THE lover's progress.  

Actus primus.  

Scaena prima  Enter Leon and Malfort. Malfort. 
AND as I told you Sir.  Leon. 
I understand you,  
Clarinda's still perverse.  Malf. 
she's worse, obdurate,  
Flinty relentless, my love-passions jeered at,  
My presents scorned.  Leon. 
'Tis strange a waiting-woman,  
In her condition apt to yield, should hold out,  
A man of your place, reverend beard and shape,  
Besieging her.  Mal. 
You might add too my wealth,  
Which she contemns, five hundred Crowns per annum,  
For which I have ventured hard, my conscience knows it,  
Not thought upon, though offered for a Jointure:  
This Chain which my Lords Peasants worship, stouted;  
My solemn hums and has, the servants quake at,  
No Rhetoric with her; every hour she hangs out  
Some new flag of defiance to torment me:  
Last Lent my Lady called me her poor John,  
But now I am grown a walking Skeleton,  
You may see through and through me.  Leon. 
Indeed you are much fall'n away.  Malf. 
I am a kind of nothing,  
As she hath made me: love's a terrible glister,  
And if some Cordial of her favours help not,  
I shall like an Italian die backward,  
And breathe my last the wrong way.  Leo. 
As I live you have my pity; but this is cold comfort,  
And in a friend lip-physic; and now I think on't,  
I should do more, and will, so you deny not  
yourself the means of comfort.  Malf. 
I'll be hanged first: one dram of't I beseech you.  Leo. 
You are not jealous of any man's access to her?  Mal. 
I would not receive the Dor, but as a bosom friend  
You shall direct me, still provided that  
I understand who is the man, and what  
His purpose that pleads for me.  Leon. 
By all means.  
First, for the undertaker I am he:  
The means that I will practise, thus—  Mal. 
Pray you forward,  Leon. 
You know your Lady chaste Caliste loves her.  Malf. 
Too well, that makes her proud.  Leon. 
Nay, give me leave.  
This beauteous Lady, I may style her so,  
(Being the paragon of France for feature)  
Is not alone contented in herself  
To seem, and be good, but desires to make  
All such as have dependence on her like her;  
For this Clarinda's liberty is restrained;  
And though her kinsman the gate's shut against me;  
Now if you please to make yourself the door,  
For my conveyance to her, though you run  
The hazard of a check for't, 'tis no matter.  Malf. 
It being for mine own ends.  Leo. 
I'll give it o'er,  
If that you make the least doubt otherwise:  
Studying upon't? good morrow.  Malf. 
Pray you stay sir;  
You are my friend: yet as the Proverb says,  
When love puts in, friendship is gone: suppose  
You should yourself affect her?  Leon. 
Do you think I'll commit Incest; for it is no less,  
She being my cousin Germane. Fare you well sir.  Malf. 
I had forgot that; for this once forgive me.  
Only to ease the throbbing of my heart,  
(For I do feel strange pangs) instruct me what  
You will say for me.  Leon. 
First, I'll tell her that  
She hath so far besotted you, that you have  
Almost forgot to cast account.  Malf. 
Mere truth sir.  Leon. 
That of a wise and provident Steward,  
You are turned stark Ass.  Malf. 
Urge that point home, I am so.  Leon. 
That you adore the ground she treads upon,  
And kiss her footsteps.  Mal. 
As I do when I find their print in the Snow.  Leon. 
A loving fool I know it,  
By your bloodless-frosty lips: then having related  
How much you suffer for her, and how well  
You do deserve it—  Malf. 
How? to suffer?  Leon. 
No sir, to have your love returned.  Malf. 
That's good, I thank you.  Leon. 
I will deliver her an Inventory  
Of your good parts: as this your precious nose,  
Dropping affection: your high-forehead, reaching  
Almost to the crown of your head; your slender waste,  
And a back not like a thresher's, but a bending  
And Courtlike back, and so forth, for your body.  
But when I touch your mind, for that must take her,  
(Since your outside promises little) I'll enlarge it,  
(Though ne'er so narrow) as your Arts to thrive,  
Your composition with the Cook, and Butler,  
Fory Coney-skins and Chippings, and half a share  
With all the under-officers of the house,  
In stranger's bounties, that she shall have all,  
And you as 'twere her Bailiff.  Malf. 
As I will be.  Leon. 
As you shall, so I'll promise. Then your qualities.  
As playing on a Gittern, or Jew's Trump.  Malf. 
A little too on the Vial.  Leon. 
I care you nothing.  
Then singing her asleep with curious catches  
Of your own making: for as I have heard,  
You are Poetical.  Mal. 
Something given that way.  
Yet my works seldom thrive: and the main reason  
The Poets urge for't, is, because I am not  
As poor as they are.  Leon. 
Very likely: fetch her,  
While I am in the vain.  Mal. 
'Tis an apt time, my Lady being at her prayers.  Leon. 
Let her pray on.  
Nay go, and if upon my intercession  
She do you not some favour, I'll disclaim her;  
I'll ruminate on't the while.  Malf. 
A hundred Crowns is your reward.  Leo. 
Without 'em— nay, no trifling. Ex. Malf.  
That this dull clod of ignorance should know  
How to get money, yet want eyes to see  
How grossly he's abused, and wrought upon,  
When he should make his will, the rogues turned rampant,  
As he had renewed his youth: A handsome wench  
Love one a spittle-whore would run away from?  
Well Master Steward, I will plead for you  
In such a Method, as it shall appear  
You are fit to be a property.  Enter Malfort and Clarinda. Mal. 
Yonder he walks  
That knows my worth and value, though you scorn it.  Clar. 
If my Lady know not this—  Mal. 
I'll answer it:  
If you were a Nun, I hope your cousin German  
Might talk with you through a grate, but you are none,  
And therefore may come closer: ne'er hang off,  
As I live you shall bill: you may salute as strangers,  
Custom allows it. Now, now, come upon her  
With all your Oratory, tickle her to the quick,  
As a young advocate should, and leave no virtue  
Of mine unmentioned, I'll stand sentinel;  
Nay keep the door myself. Exit.  Clar. 
How have you worked  
This piece of motley to your ends?  Leon. 
Of that at leisure, Mistress. Kissing.  Clar. 
Lower, you are too loud,  
Though the fool be deaf some of the house may hear you.  Leon. 
Suppose they should, I am a gentleman,  
And held your kinsman, under that I hope  
I may be free.  Clar. 
I grant it, but with caution;  
But be not seen to talk with me familiarly,  
But at fit distance, or not seen at all,  
It were the better: you know my Lady's humour,  
She is all honour, and composed of goodness,  
(As she pretends) and you having no business,  
How jealous may she grow?  Leon. 
I will be ruled.  
But you have promised, and I must enjoy you.  Clar. 
We shall find time for that; you are too hasty:  
Make yourself fit, and I shall make occasion,  
Deliberation makes best in that business,  
And contents every way.  Leon. 
But you must feed  
This foolish Steward with some shadow of  
A future favour, that we may preserve him  
To be our instrument.  Clar. 
Hang him.  Leon. 
For my sake sweet,  
I undertook to speak for him, any bauble,  
Or slight employment in the way of service,  
Will feed him fat.  Clar. 
Leave him to me, Enter Malfort.  Malf. 
She comes. My Lady.  Clar. 
I will satisfy her.  Mal. 
How far have you prevailed?  Leon. 
Observe.  Clar. 
monsieur Malfort.  
I must be brief, my cousin hath spoke much  
In your behalf, and to give you some proof,  
I entertain you as my servant,  
You shall have the grace.  Leon 
Upon your knee receive it,  Clar. 
And take it a special favour from me,  
To tie my shoe.  Malf. 
I am o'erjoyed.  Leon. 
Good reason.  Clar. 
You may come higher in time.  Leon. 
No more, the Lady. Enter Calista.  Malf. 
She frowns.  Clar. 
I thank you for this visit cousin,  
But without leave hereafter from my Lady,  
I dare not change discourse with you.  Malf. 
Pray you take your morning's draught.  Leon. 
I thank you: Exeunt Leon. Malfort.  
Happiness attend your honour.  Calist. 
Who gave warrant to this private parley?  Clar. 
My innocence; I hope  
My conference with a kinsman cannot call  
Your anger on me.  Calist. 
Kinsman? Let me have  
No more of this, as you desire you may continue mine.  Clar. 
Why Madam (under pardon)  
Suppose him otherwise: yet coming in  
A lawful way it is excusable.  Calist. 
How's this?  Clar. 
I grant you are made of pureness,  
And that your tenderness of honour holds  
The sovereignty o'er your passions. Yet you have  
A noble Husband, with allowed embraces,  
To quench lascivious fires, should such flame in you,  
As I must ne'er believe. Were I the wife  
Of one that could but zany brave Cleander,  
Even in his least perfections, (excuse  
My o'erbold inference) I should desire  
To meet no other object.  Cal. 
You grow saucy. Do I look further?  Clar. 
No, dear Madam: and  
It is my wonder or astonishment rather,  
You could deny the service of Lisander;  
A man without a rival: one the King  
And Kingdom gazes on with admiration,  
For all the excellencies a mother could  
Wish in her only son.  Cal. 
Did not mine honour  
And Obligation to Cleander, force me  
To be deaf to his complaints?  Clar. 
'Tis true; but yet  
Your rigor to command him from your presence,  
Argued but small compassion; the Groves  
Witness his grievous sufferings, your fair name  
Upon the rind of every gentle Poplar,  
And amorous Myrtle, (trees to Venus sacred)  
With adoration carved, and kneeled unto,  
This you (unseen of him) both saw and heard  
Without compassion, and what received he  
For his true sorrows? but the heavy knowledge,  
That 'twas your peremptory will and pleasure,  
( howe'er my Lord lived in him) he should quit  
Your sight and house for ever.  Cal. 
I confess I gave him a strong potion to work  
Upon his hot blood, and I hope 'twill cure him:  
Yet I could wish the cause had concerned others,  
I might have met his sorrows with more pity;  
At least have lent some counsel to his miseries,  
Though now for honour's sake, I must forget him,  
And never know the name more of Lisander:  
Yet in my justice I am bound to grant him,  
(Laying his love aside) most truly noble.  
But mention him no more, this instant hour  
My brother Lydian, new returned from travail,  
And his brave friend Clarange, long since rivals  
For fair and rich Olinda, are to hear  
Her absolute determination, whom  
She pleases to elect: see all things ready  
To entertain 'em: and on my displeasure  
No more words of Lisander.  Clar. 
She endures to hear him named by no tongue but her own:  
howe'er she carries it, I know she loves him. Exit.  Cal. 
Hard nature: hard condition of poor women!  
That where we are most sued too, we must fly most.  
The trees grow up, and mix together freely,  
The Oak not envious of the sailing Cedart  
The lusty Vine not jealous of the Ivy  
Because she clips the Elm; the flowers shoot up,  
And wantonly kiss one another hourly,  
This blossom glorying in the other's beauty,  
And yet they smell as sweet, and look as lovely:  
But we are tied to grow alone. O honour,  
Thou hard Law to our lives, chain to our freedoms;  
He that invented thee had many curses;  
How is my soul divided? O Cleander,  
My best deserving husband! O Lisander!  
The truest lover that e'er sacrificed  
To Cupid against Hymen: O mine honour;  
A Tyrant, yet to be obeyed, and 'tis  
But justice we should thy strict Laws endure,  
Since our obedience to thee keeps us pure. Exit.  Enter Cleander, Lydian, and Clarange. Clean. 
How insupportable the difference  
Of dear friends is, the sorrow that I feel  
For my lisander's absence, one that stamps  
A reverend print on friendship, does assure me  
You are rivals for a Lady, a fair Lady,  
And in the acquisition of her favours,  
Hazard the cutting of that gordian knot  
From your first childhood to this present hour,  
By all the ties of love and amity fastened,  
I am blessed in a wife (heaven make me thankful)  
Inferior to none (sans pride I speak it)  
Yet if I were a freeman, and could purchase  
At any rate the certainty to enjoy  
lisander's conversation while I lived,  
Forgive me my Caliste and the Sex,  
I never would seek change.  Lid. 
My Lord and brother,  
I dare not blame your choice, lisander's worth,  
Being a Mistress to be ever courted;  
Nor shall our equal suit to fair Olinda  
Weaken, but add strength to our true affection,  
With zeal so long continued.  Claran. 
When we know  
Whom she prefers, as she can choose but one,  
By our so long tried friendship we have vowed  
The other shall desist.  Clea. 
'Tis yet your purpose,  
But how this resolution will hold  
In him that is refused, is not alone  
Doubtful, but dangerous.  Enter Malfort. Malf. 
The rich heir is come sir.  Cleand. 
Madam Olinda.  Malf. 
Yes sir, and makes choice,  
After some little conference with my Lady,  
Of this room to give answer to her suitors.  Cle. 
Already both look pale, between your hopes  
To win the prize, and your despair to lose  
What you contended for.  Lid. 
No sir, I am armed.  Clar. 
I confident of my interest.  Cle. 
I'll believe ye when you have endured the test.  Enter Caliste, Olinda, and Clarinda. Malf. 
Is not your garter  
Untied? you promised that I should grow higher  
In doing you service.  Clar. 
Fall off or you lose me. Exit Malf.  Cle. 
Nay take your place, no Paris now sits judge  
On the contending goddesses. You are  
The Deity that must make cursed or happy,  
One of your languishing servants.  Ol. 
I thus look with equal eyes on both, either deserves  
A fairer fortune than they can in reason  
Hope for from me; from Lydian I expect,  
When I have made him mine, all pleasures that  
The sweetness of his manners, youth, and virtues  
Can give assurance of: but turning this way  
To brave Clarange, in his face appears  
A kind of majesty which should command,  
Not sue for favour. If the fairest Lady  
Of France, set forth with nature's best endowments  
Nay should I add a Princess of the blood,  
Did now lay claim to either for a husband,  
So vehement my affection is to both,  
My envy at her happiness would kill me.  Cle. 
The strangest love I ever heard.  Cal. 
You can enjoy but one.  Clar. 
The more I say the merrier.  Olin. 
Witness these tears I love both, as I know  
You burn with equal flames, and so affect me;  
Abundance makes me poor; such is the hard  
Condition of my fortune; be your own judges;  
If I should favour both, 'twill taint my honour,  
And that before my life I must prefer,  
If one I lean to, the other is disvalued;  
You are fiery both, and love will make you warmer,  Clar. 
The warmer still the fitter. You are a fool Lady.  Oli. 
To what may love, and the devil jealousy spur you  
Is too apparent: my name's called in question:  
Your swords fly out, your angers range at large:  
Then what a murder of my modesty follows?  Clar. 
Take heed of that by any means: O innocent,  
That will deny a blessing when 'tis offered,  
Would I were murdered so, I would thank my modesty.  Cle. 
What pause you on?  Oli. 
It is at length resolved.  Clara. 
We are on the Rack, uncertain expectation,  
The greatest torture.  Lidian. 
Command what you please,  
And you shall see how willingly we will execute.  Olinda 
Then hear what for your satisfaction,  
And to preserve your friendship I resolve  
Against myself, and 'tis not to be altered:  
You are both brave gentlemen, I'll still profess it,  
Both noble servants, for whose gentle offers,  
The undeserving, and the poor Olinda  
Is ever bound; you love both, fair, and virtuously;  
Would I could be so happy to content both:  
Which since I cannot, take this resolute answer;  
Go from me both contentedly, and he  
That last makes his return, and comes to visit,  
Comes to my bed. You know my will: farewell;  
My heart's too big to utter more: come friend.  Cal. 
I'll wait on you to your Coach.  Exeunt Olinda, Caliste, Clarinda. Clean. 
You both look blank, I cannot blame you.  Lid. 
We have our dispatches.  Clara. 
I'll home.  Lid. 
And I'll abroad again, Farewell. Exit Clarange and Lydian.  Clara. 
Farewell to ye.  Clean. 
Their blunted departure troubles me: I fear  
A sudden and a dangerous division  
Of their long love will follow: have you took  
Your leave of fair Olinda? Enter Caliste with a purse.  Cal. 
She is gone sir.  Cle. 
Had you brought news Lisander were returned too,  
I were most happy.  Cal. 
Still upon Lisander?  Cle. 
I know he loves me, as he loves his health:  
And heaven knows I love him.  Cal. 
I find it so:  
For me you have forgot, and what I am to you.  Cle. 
O think not so If you had lost a sister,  
You locked all your delights in, it would grieve you:  
A little you would wander from the fondness,  
You owed your husband: I have lost a friend,  
A noble friend, all that was excellent  
In man, or mankind, was contained within him.  
That lost my wife—  Enter Malfort. Malf. 
Madam, your noble Father—  
A fee for my good news.  Cal. 
Why? what of him sir?  Mal. 
Is lighted at the door, and longs to see you.  Calist. 
Attend him hither.  Clean. 
O my dear Lisander.  
But I'll be merry: let's meet him my Caliste.  Cal 
I hope Lasander's love will now be buried:  
My father will bring joy enough for one month,  
To put him out of his memory.  Enter Dorilaus, his arm in a scarf. Dor. 
How do you son?  
Bless my fair child, I am come to visit ye,  
To see what house you keep, they say you are bountiful,  
I like the noise well, and I come to try it.  
ne'er a great belly yet? how have you trifled?  
If I had done so (son) I should have heard on't  
On both sides by Saint Denis.  Clean. 
You are nobly welcome sir:  
We have time enough for that.  Dorilaus. 
See how she blushes:  
'Tis a good sign you'll mend your fault, how dost thou,  
My good Caliste?  Cal. 
Well, now I see you sir;  
I hope you bring a fruitfulness along with ye.  Dor. 
Good luck, I never miss, I was ever good at it:  
Your mother groaned for't wench, so did some other,  
But I durst never tell.  Cal. 
How does your arm sir?  Clean. 
Have you been let blood of late?  Dor. 
Against my will sir.  Cal. 
A fall dear father?  Dor. 
No, a Gun, dear daughter;  
Two or three Guns; I have one herein my buttock,  
'Twould trouble a surgeon's teeth to pull it out.  Cal. 
O me! O me!  Dor. 
Nay, if you fall to fainting,  
'Tis time for me to trudge: art such a coward,  
At the mere name of hurt to change thy colour?  
I have been shot that men might see clean through me  
And yet I fainted not: besides myself,  
Here are an hospital of hurt men for ye.  Enter Servants wounded in several places. Cloan. 
What should this wonder be?  Cal. 
I am amazed at it.  Dor. 
What think ye of these? they are every one hurt soundly,  
Hurt to the proof, they are through, & through I assure ye;  
And that's good game, they scorn your puling scratches.  Cal. 
Who did this sir?  Dor. 
Leave crying, and I'll tell you,  
And get your plasters, and your warm stupes ready:  
Have you ne'er a Shepherd that can tarre us over?  
'Twill prove a business else, we are so many.  
Coming to see you, I was set upon,  
I and my men, as we were singing frolickly,  
Not dreaming of an ambush of base rogues,  
Set on i'th' forest, I have forgot the name—  Cle. 
'Twixt this, and Fountaine-Bleiu?  
In the wild Forest?  Dor. 
The same, the same, in that accursed Forest,  
Set on by villains, that make boot of all men.  
The Peers of France are pillage there, they shot at us,  
Hurt us, unhorsed us, came to the sword, there plied us,  
Oppressed us with fresh multitudes, fresh shot still,  
Rogues that would hang themselves for a fresh doublet,  
And for a Scarlet cassock kill their fathers.  Cle. 
Lighted you among these?  Dor. 
Among these murderers,  
Our poor bloods were engaged: yet we struck bravely,  
And more than once or twice we made them shun us,  
And shrink their rugged heads: but we were hurt all.  Cle. 
How came you off? for I even long to hear that.  Dor. 
After our prayers made to heaven to help us,  
Or to be merciful unto our souls,  
So near we were. Alas poor wench, wipe, wipe.  
See heaven sends remedy.  Cal. 
I am glad 'tis come sir,  
My heart was even a bleeding in my body.  Dor. 
A curled hair gentleman stepped in, a stranger,  
As he rod by, belike he heard our bickering,  
Saw our distresses, drew his sword, and proved  
He came to execute, and not to argue.  
Lord what a lightning methought flew about him,  
When he once tossed his blade; in face Adonis,  
While peace inhabited between his eyebrows:  
But when his noble anger stirred his mettle,  
And blew his fiery parts into a flame,  
Like Pallas, when she sits between two armies,  
Viewing with horrid brows their sad events,  
Such then he looked: and as her shield had armed him.  Cal. 
This man sir were a friend to give an age for.  
This gentleman I must love naturally:  
Nothing can keep me off; I pray you go on sir.  Dor. 
I will, for now you please me: this brave youth,  
This bud of Mars, for yet he is no riper,  
When once he had drawn blood, and fleshed his sword,  
Fitted his manly mettle to his spirit,  
How he bestirred him? what a lane he made?  
And through their fiery Bullets thrust securely:  
The hardened villains wondering at his confidence,  
Lame as I was I followed, and admired too,  
And stirred, and laid about me with new spirit,  
My men too with new hearts thrust into action,  
And down the rogues went.  Cle. 
I am struck with wonder.  Dor. 
Remember but the story of strong Hector,  
When like to lightning he broke through his vanguard,  
How the Greeks frighted ran away by Troops,  
And trod down Troops to save their lives: so this man,  
Dispersed these slaves: had they been more and mightier,  
He had come off the greater, and more wonder.  Cle. 
Where is the man, good sir, that we may honour him?  Cal. 
That we may fall in superstition to him.  Dor. 
I know not that, from me he late departed,  
But not without that pious care to see safe  
Me, and my weak men lodged, and dressed; I urged him  
First hither, that I might more freely thank him:  
He told me he had business craved my pardon,  
Business of much import.  Clean. 
Know you his name?  Dor. 
That he denied me too: a vow had bar him.  Cal. 
In that he was not noble to be nameless.  Dor. 
Daughter you must remember him when I am dead,  
And in a noble sort requite his piety,  
'Twas his desire to dedicate this service  
To your fair thoughts.  Cal. 
He knows me then?  Dor. 
I named you,  
And named you mine: I think that's all his knowledge.  Cle. 
No name, no being?  Cal. 
Now I am mad to know him:  
Saving mine honour, any thing I had now  
But to enjoy his sight, but his bare picture;  
Make me his Saint, I must needs honour him.  Serv. 
I know his name.  Cal. 
There's thy reward for't; speak it.  Ser. 
His man told me, but he desired my silence.  Cal. 
O Jasper speak, 'tis thy good Master's cause too:  
We all are bound ingratitude to compel thee.  Serv 
Lisander, Yes, I am sure it was Lisander.  Cal. 
Lisander? 'twas Lisander.  Cle. 
'Tis Lisander. O my base thoughts? my wicked?  
To make question this act could be another man's:  
'Tis Lisander, a handsome timbered man.  Serv. 
Yes.  Cle. 
My Lisander! was this friend's absence to be mourned?  Cal. 
I grant it:  
I'll mourn his going now, and mourn it seriously:  
When you weep for him, sir, I'll bear you company.  
That so much honour, so much honesty  
Should be in one man, to do things thus bravely,  
Make me his Saint, to me give this brave service:  
What may I do to recompense his goodness?  
I cannot tell.  Cle. 
Come sir, I know you are sickly, so are your men.  Dor. 
I must confess I am weak,  
And fitter for a bed then long discourses.  Cle. 
You shall hear tomorrow, tomorrow provide Surgeons.  Dor. 
Lisander—  Cal. 
What new fire is this? Lisander— Exeunt.    

Actus Secundus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Lisander, and Lancelot. Lis. 
Prithee good Lancelot remember that  
Thy Master's life is in thy trust, and therefore  
Be very careful.  Lance. 
I will lose mine own, rather than hazard yours.  Lis. 
Take what disguise  
You in your own discretion shall think fittest,  
To keep yourself unknown.  * Lanc. 
I warrant ye;  
'Tis not the first time I have gone invisible:  
I am as fine a Fairy in a business  
Concerning nightwork—  Lis. 
Leave your vanities:  
With this purse (which delivered,  
You may spare your Oratory) convey this Letter to  
Caliste's woman.  Lanc. 
'Tis a handsome girl, Mistress Clarinda.  Lis. 
I have made her mine. You know your work.  Lanc. 
And if I sweat not in it,  
At my return discard me. Exit.  Lisand. 
O Caliste! the fairest! cruelest!  Enter Clarange. Clar. 
So early stirring? a good day to you.  Lis. 
I was viewing sir,  
The site of your house, and the handsomeness about it:  
Believe me it stands healthfully and sweetly.  Clara. 
The house and master of it really  
Are ever at your service.  Lis. 
I return it:  
Now if you please go forward in your story  
Of your dear friend and Mistress.  Clara. 
I will tell it,  
And tell it short, because 'tis breakfast time,  
(And love a tedious thing to a quick stomach)  
You eat not yesternight.  Lis. 
I shall endure sir.  Clara. 
myself (and as I then delivered to you)  
A gentleman of noble hope, one Lydian,  
Both brought up from our infancy together,  
One company, one friendship, and one exercise,  
Ever affecting, one bed holding us,  
One grief, and one joy parted still between us,  
More than companions, twins in all our actions,  
We grew up till we were men, held one heart still:  
Time called us on to Arms, we were one soldier,  
Alike we sought our dangers and our honours,  
Gloried alike one in another's nobleness:  
When Arms had made us fit, we were one lover,  
We loved one woman, loved without division,  
And wooed a long time with one fair affection;  
And she, as it appears, loves us alike too.  
At length considering what our love must grow to,  
And covet in the end, this one was parted,  
Rivals and honours make men stand at distance.  
We then wooed with advantage, but were friends still,  
Saluted fairly, kept the peace of love,  
We could not both enjoy the Lady's favour,  
Without some scandal to her reputation,  
We put it to her choice, this was her sentence,  
To part both from her, and the last returning  
Should be her Lord; we obeyed, and now you know it;  
And for my part, (so truly I am touched with't)  
I will go far enough, and be the last too,  
Or ne'er return:  Lisand. 
A sentence of much cruelty;  
But mild, compared with what's pronounced on me.  
Our loving youth is borne to many miseries.  
What is that Lydian pray ye?  Claran. 
Caliste's brother, if ever you have heard of that fair Lady.  Lisan. 
I have seen her sir.  Claran. 
Then you have seen a wonder.  Lisan. 
I do confess: of what years is this Lydian?  Clara. 
About my years: there is not much between us.  Lisan. 
I long to know him.  Clara. 
'Tis a virtuous longing,  
As many hopes hang on his noble head,  
As blossoms on a bough in May, and sweet ones.  Lis. 
Ye are a fair story of your friend.  Clar. 
Of truth sir: now, what's the matter?  Enter a Servant. Serv. 
There is a gentleman  
At door, would speak with you on private business.  Clara. 
With me?  Serv. 
He says so, and brings haste about him.  Clara. 
Wait on him in. Exit Serv.  Lisan. 
I will retire the while, to the next room.  Clar. 
We shall not long disturb you. Ent. Alcidon.  Alc. 
Save ye sir.  Clara. 
The like to you fair sir: pray you come near.  Alc. 
Pray you instruct me for I know you not.  
With Monsieur Clarange I would speak.  Clar. 
I am he sir:  
Ye are nobly welcome; I wait your business.  Alcid. 
This will inform you.  Clara. 
Will you please to sit down? Reads.  
He shall command me sir, I'll wait upon him  
Within this hour.  Alcid. 
You're a noble gentleman,  
will't please you bring a friend? we are two of us,  
And pity either sir should be unfurnished.  Clara. 
I have none now, and the time is set so short,  
'Twill not be possible.  Alc. 
Do me the honour:  
I know you are so full of brave acquaintance,  
And worthy friends, you cannot want a partner:  
I would be loath to stand still sir; besides,  
You know the custom, and the vantage of it,  
If you come in alone.  Clar. 
And I must meet it.  Alc. 
Send, we'll defer an hour, let us be equal:  
Games won and lost on equal terms show fairest.  Clar. 
'Tis to no purpose to send any whither,  
Unless men be at home by Revelation:  
So please you breathe a while; when I have done with him  
You may be exercised too: I'll trouble no man.  Enter Lisander. Lis. 
They are very loud. Now what's the news?  Clara. 
I must leave you,  
Leave you a while, two hours hence I'll return friend.  Lisan. 
Why, what's the matter?  Clar. 
A little business.  Lis. 
an't be but a little, you may take me with ye.  Clar. 
'Twill be a trouble to you.  Lis. 
No indeed, to do you service, I account a pleasure.  Clar. 
I must alone.  Lisan. 
Why?  Clarang. 
'Tis necessity—  
Before you pass the walks, and back again,  
I will be with ye.  Lis. 
If it be not unmannerly  
To press you, I would go.  Claran. 
I'll tell you true sir,  
This gentleman and I upon appointment,  
Are going to visit a Lady.  Lisond. 
I am no Capuchin, why should not I go?  Alc. 
Take the gentleman,  
Come he may see the gentlewoman too,  
And be most welcome, I do beseech you take him.  Lisan. 
By any means, I love to see a gentlewoman,  
A pretty wench too.  Clar. 
Well sir, we'll meet you,  
And at the place: My service to the Lady.  Alc. 
I kiss your hand. Exit.  Clara. 
Prithee read o'er her Letter.  Lisander reads. 
Monsieur,  
I Know you have considered the dark sentence Olinda gave us, and that (however she disguised it) it pointed more at our swords edges then our bodies banishments; the last must enjoy her: if we retire, our youths are lost in wandering; in emulation we shall grow old men, and feeble, Which is the scorn of love, and rust of honour, and so return more fit to wed our Sepulchers, than the Saint we aim at; let us therefore make our journey short, and our hearts ready, and with our swords in our hands put it to fortune, which shall be worthy to receive that blessing, I'll stay you on the mountain, our old hunting place, this gentleman alone runs the hazard with me, and so I kiss your hand.  
Your servant Lydian.  
Is this your wench? you'll find her a sharp Mistress.  
What have I thrust myself into? is this that Lydian  
You told me of?  Clara. 
The same.  Lisan. 
My Lady's brother?  
No cause to heave my sword against but his?  
To save the father yesterday, and this morning,  
To help to kill the son? this is most courteous?  
The only way to make the daughter  on me.  Clara. 
Why do you muse? would ye go off?  Lis. 
No, no, I must on now; this will be kindly taken;  
No life to sacrifice, but part of hers?  
Do you fight straight?  Clara. 
Yes, presently.  Lis. 
Tomorrow then,  
The baleful tidings of this day will break out,  
And this night's Sun will set in blood; I am troubled:  
If I am killed, I am happy.  Clara. 
will you go friend?  Lis. 
I am ready sir, fortune thou hast made me monstrous. Exeunt.  Enter Malfort and Clarinda. Malf. 
Your cousin, and my true friend, lusty Leon,  
Shall know how you use me.  Clar. 
Be more temperate,  
Or I will never use, nor know you more  
i'th' way of a servant: all the house takes notice  
Of your ridiculous foppery; I have no sooner  
Performed my duties in my Lady's chamber,  
And she scarce down the stairs, but you appear  
Like my evil spirit to me.  Mal. 
Can the fish live out of the water, or the Salamander  
Out of the fire? or I live warm, but in  
The frying-pan of your favour?  Cla. 
Pray you forget  
Your curious comparisons, borrowed from  
The pond, and kitchen, and remember what  
My Lady's pleasure is forth 'entertainment  
Of her noble father.  Ma 
I would learn the art of memory in your table book.  Cla. 
Very good sir, no more but up and ride, I apprehend  
Your meaning, soft fire makes sweet malt sir:  
I'll answer you in a Proverb,  Mal. 
But one kiss from thy honey lip.  Cla. 
You sight too high, my hand is  
A fair ascent from my foot, his slavering kisses  
Spoil me more gloves,— enough for once, you'll surfeit  
With too much grace.  Mal. 
Have you no employment for me?  Cla. 
Yes, yes, go send for Leon, and convey him  
Into the private Arbour, from his mouth  
I hear your praises with more faith.  Ma. 
I am gone-yet one thing ere I go, there's at the door  
The rarest Fortune-teller, he hath told me  
The strangest things; he knows ye are my Mistress,  
And under seal delivered how many children  
I shall beget on you, pray you give him hearing,  
He'll make it good to you.  Gla. 
A cunning man  
Of your own making, howsoe'er I'll hear him  
At your entreaty.  Mal. 
Now I perceive ye love me,  
At my entreaty, come in friend— remember  
To speak as I directed, he knows his lesson,  
And the right way to please her; this it is  
To have a head-piece. Exit.  Enter Lancelot like a Fortune-teller, with a Purse, and two Letters in it. Cla. 
'Tis said you can tell Fortunes to come.  Lan. 
Yes Mistress, and what's past;  
Unglove your hand, by this straight line, I see  
You have lain crooked.  Cla. 
How? lain crooked?  Lan. 
Yes; and in that posture played at the old game,  
( nobody hears me, and I'll be no blab)  
And at it lost your maidenhead.  Cla. 
A shrewd fellow;  
'Tis truth, but not to be confessed; in this  
Your palmistry deceives you, some thing else sir.  Lan. 
Ye are a great woman with your Lady, and  
Acquainted with her counsels.  Cla. 
Still more strange.  Lan. 
There is a noble Knight Lisander loves her,  
Whom she regards not and the destinies  
With whom I am familiar, have delivered  
That by your means alone, he must enjoy her.  
Your hand again, Yes, yes; you have already  
Promised him your assistance, and what's more,  
Tasted his bounty, for which, from the sky  
There are 200. crowns dropped in a Purse,  
Look back, you'll find it true; nay, open it,  
'Tis good Gold I assure you.  Cla. 
How, two Letters? the first endorsed to me? this to my Lady?  
Subscribed Lisander.  Lan. 
And the fortune-teller, his servant Lancelot.  Cla. 
How had I lost my eyes,  
That I could not know thee? not a word of the loss  
Of my virginity.  Lanc. 
Nor who I am.  Cla. 
I'll use all speedy means for your dispatch,  
With a welcome answer, but till you receive it,  
Continue thus disguised, monsieur Malfort  
(You know the way to humour him) shall provide  
A lodging for you, and good entertainment;  
Nay, since we trade both one way, thou shalt have  
Some feeling with me, take that.  Lan. 
Bountiful wench may'st thou ne'er want employment.  Cla. 
Nor such pay boy. Exeunt.  Enter Lydian, Alcidon, (at one door) Lisander, Clarange, (at another.) Lid. 
You're welcome.  Alc. 
Let us do our office first,  
And then make choice of a new piece of ground  
To try our fortunes.  Lis. 
All's fair here.  Alc. 
And here, their swords are equal.  Lis. 
If there be any odds in mine, we will exchange.  Alc. 
we'll talk of that  
When we are farther off, farewell.  Lis. 
Farewell friend. Ex. Lisand. and Alcid  Lid. 
Come let us not be idle?  Cla. 
I will find you employment, fear not.  Lid. 
You know sir, the cause that brings us hither  Cla. 
There needs no more discoursing,  
No time, nor place for repetition now.  Lid. 
Let our Swords argue, and I wish Clarange,  
The proud Olinda saw us.  Cla. 
Would she did;  
whatever estimation she holds of me,  
She should behold me like a man fight for her.  Lid. 
'Tis nobly said; set on love; and my fortune—  Cla. 
The same for me, come home brave Lydian,  
'Twas manly thrust, this token to the Lady,  
Ye have it sir, deliver it, take breath,  
I see ye bleed apace, ye shall have fair play.  Enter Lisander. Lis. 
You must lie there a while, I cannot help you,  Lid. 
Nay, than my fortunes gone, I know I must die:  
Yet dearly will I sell my love, come on both,  
And use your fortunes, I expect no favour;  
Weak as I am, my confidence shall meet ye.  Cla. 
Yield up your cause and live.  Lid. 
What dost thou hold me?  
A recreant, that prefers life before credit?  
Though I bleed hard, my honour finds no Issue,  
That's constant to my heart.  Cla. 
Have at your life then.  Lis. 
Hold, or I'll turn, and bend my sword against ye;  
My cause Clarange too, view this brave Gentleman,  
That yet may live to kill you, he stands nobly,  
And has as great a promise of the day  
As you can tie unto yourself, he's ready,  
His Sword as sharp, view him with that remembrance,  
That you delivered him to me Clarange:  
And with those eyes, that clearness will become ye:  
View him, as you reported him; survey him,  
Fix on your friendship sir, I know you are noble,  
And step but Inward to your old affection,  
Examine but that soul grew to your bosom,  
And try then if your Sword will bite, it cannot,  
The edge will turn again, ashamed, and blunted;  
Lydian, you are the pattern of fair friendship,  
Exampled for your Love, and imitated,  
The Temple of true hearts, stored with affections,  
For sweetness of your spirit made a Saint,  
Can you decline this nobleness to anger?  
To mortal anger? 'gainst the man ye love most?  
Have ye the name of virtuous, not the nature?  Lid. 
I will sit down.  Clarin. 
And I'll sit by you Lydian.  Lis. 
And I'll go on, can heaven be pleased with these things?  
To see two hearts that have been twined together  
Married in friendship to the world, to wonder,  
Of one growth, of one nourishment, one health,  
Thus mortally divorced for one weak woman?  
Can love be pleased? love is a gentle spirit,  
The wind that blows the April flowers, not softer;  
She is drawn with doves to show her peacefulness,  
Lions and bloody Pards are Mars's servants;  
Would ye serve love? do it with humbleness,  
Without a noise, with still prayers, and soft murmurs;  
Upon her Altars offer your obedience,  
And not your brawls; she's won with tears, not terrors:  
That fire ye kindle to her deity,  
Is only grateful when it blows with sighs,  
And holy Incense flung with white hand-innocence;  
Ye wound her now; ye are too superstitious,  
No sacrifice of blood, or death she longs for:  Lid. 
Came he from heaven?  Clarin. 
He tells us truth good Lydian.  Lis. 
That part of Noble love which is most sweet,  
And gives eternal being to fair beauty,  
Honour. You hack a pieces with your swords,  
And that ye fight to crown, ye kill fair credit.  Clara. 
Thus we embrace, no more fight, but all friendship,  
And where love pleases to bestow his benefits,  
Let us not argue.  Lid. 
Nay brave sir, come in too;  
You may love also, and may hope, If he do,  
And not rewarded for't, there is no justice;  
Farewell friend, here let's part upon our pilgrimage,  
It must be so, Cupid draws on our sorrows.  
And where the lot lights—  Claran. 
I shall count it happiness,  
Farewell dear friend.  Lis. 
First, let's relieve the Gentleman  
That lies hurt in your cause, and bring him off,  
And take some cure for your hurts, than I will part too,  
A third unfortunate, and willing wanderer. Exeunt.  Enter Olinda, and Caliste. Olin. 
My fears foresaw't would come to this.  Cal. 
I would your sentence had been milder.  Olin. 
'Tis past help now.  Cal. 
I share in your despair, and yet my hopes  
Have not quite left me, since all possible means  
Are practised to prevent the mischief following  
Their mortal meeting, my Lord is coasted one way,  
My father, though his hurts forbade his travel,  
Hath took another, my brother in Law Beronte,  
A third, and every minute we must look for  
The certain knowledge, which we must endure  
With that calm patience heaven shall please to lend us.  Enter Dorilaus, and Cleander, severally. Dor. 
Dead both?  Clea. 
Such is the rumour, and 'tis general.  Olin. 
I hear my passing-bell.  Cal. 
I am in a .  Clea. 
They say their seconds too; but what they are,  
Is not known yet, some worthy fellows certain.  Dor. 
Where had you knowledge?  Clea. 
Of the Country people, 'tis spoken everywhere.  Dor. 
I heard it so too;  
And 'tis so common, I do half believe it,  
You have lost a brother wench, he loved you well,  
And might have lived to have done his country service,  
But he is gone, thou feld'st untimely Lydian,  
But by a valiant hand, that's some small comfort,  
And took him with thee too, thou lov'st brave company,  
Weeping will do no good, you lost a servant,  
He might have lived to have been your Master Lady,  
But you feared that.  Olind. 
Good sir, be tender to me,  
The news is bad enough, you need not press it.  
I loved him well, I loved 'em both.  Dor. 
It seems so.  
How many more have you to love so Lady?  
They were both fools to fight for such a Fiddle;  
Certain there was a dearth of noble anger,  
When a slight woman was thought worth a quarrel.  Olin. 
Pray you think nobler.  Do. 
I'll tell thee what I think, the plague, war, famine,  
Nay put in dice and drunkenness, and those  
You'll grant are pretty helps, kill not so many  
(I mean so many noble) as your loves do,  
Rather your lewdness, I crave your mercy women.  
Be not offended if I anger ye.  
I am sure ye have touched me deep, I came to be merry,  
And with my children, but to see one ruined  
By this fell accident— are they all dead?  
If they be, speak?  Clean. 
What news?  Enter Beronte, Alcidon, Clarinda, following with a letter, Ber. 
What dead? ye pose me;  
I understand you not.  Clea. 
My brother Lydian, Clarange, and their seconds.  Ber. 
Here is one of 'em, and sure this Gentleman's alive.  Alc. 
I hope so, so is your son sir, so is brave Clarange:  
They fought indeed, and they were hurt sufficiently;  
We were all hurt, that bred the general rumour,  
But friends again all, and like friends we parted.  Clea. 
Heard ye of Lisander?  Ber. 
Yes, and missed him narrowly:  
He was one of the combatants, fought with this Gentleman,  
Second against your brother, by his wisdom  
(For certainly good fortune follows him)  
All was made peace, I'll tell you the rest at dinner,  
For we are hungry.  Alc. 
I before I eat  
Must pay a vow I am sworn to; my life Madam  
Was at Lisander's mercy, I live by it;  
And for the noble favour, he desired me  
To kiss your fair hand for him, offering  
This second service as a Sacrifice  
At the Altar of your virtues.  Dor. 
Come, joy on all sides;  
Heaven will not suffer honest men to perish.  Clean. 
Be proud of such a friend.  Dor. 
Forgive me Madam,  
It was a grief might have concerned you near too.  Clea. 
No work of excellence but still Lisander,  
Go thy ways worthy.  Olin. 
we'll be merry too,  
Were I to speak again, I would be wiser. Ex. Manet. Cal. Clarin. stays Calist.  Cal. 
Too much of this rare cordial makes me sick,  
However I obey you.  Clarin. 
Now or never is an apt time to move her, Madam.  Cal 
Who's that?  Clari. 
Your servant, I would speak with your Ladyship.  Cal. 
Why dost thou look about?  Clarin. 
I have private business  
That none must hear but you. Lisander—  Cal. 
Where?  Clarin. 
Nay, is not here, but would entreat this favour,  
Some of your balsam from your own hand given,  
For he is much hurt, and that he thinks would cure him.  Cal. 
He shall have all, my prayers too.  Clarind. 
But conceive, me,  
It must be from yourself immediately,  
Pity so brave a Gentleman should perish,  
He is superstitious, and he holds your hand  
Of infinite power: I would not urge this Madam,  
But only in a man's extremes, to help him.  Cal. 
Let him come (good wench) 'tis that I wish, I am happy in't,  
My husband his true friend, my noble father,  
The fair Olinda, all desire to see him;  
He shall have many hands.  Clarind. 
That he desires not,  
Nor eyes, but yours to look upon his miseries,  
For then he thinks 'twould be no perfect cure (Madam)  
He would come private.  Cal. 
How can that be here?  
I shall do wrong unto all those that honour him,  
Besides my credit.  Clarin. 
Dare ye not trust a hurt man?  
Not strain a courtesy to save a Gentleman?  
To save his life that has saved all your family?  
A man that comes like a poor mortified Pilgrim;  
Only to beg a blessing, and depart again?  
He would but see you, that he thinks would cure him.  
But since you find fit reasons to the contrary,  
And that it cannot stand with your clear honour,  
Though you best know how well he has deserved of ye:  
I'll send him word back, though I grieve to do it,  
Grieve at my soul, for certainly 'twill kill him,  
What your will is.  Cal. 
Stay, I will think upon't; where is he wench?  Clarin. 
If you desire to see him,  
Let not that trouble you, he shall be with ye,  
And in that time, that no man shall suspect ye;  
Your honour Madam, is in your own free keeping;  
Your care in me, in him all honesty;  
If ye desire him not, let him pass by ye:  
And all this business reckon but a dream.  Cal. 
Go in, and counsel me, I would fain see him,  
And willingly comfort him.  Clarin. 
'Tis in your power.  
And if you dare trust me, you shall do it safely,  
Read that, and let that tell you, how he honours you.  Exeunt.   

Actus Tertius.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Clarinda, with a Key, and Leon. Leon. 
THis happy night. Kisses her.  Clarin. 
Preserve this eagerness  
Till we meet nearer, there is something done  
Will give us opportunity.  Leon. 
Witty girl, the plot?  Clarind, 
You shall hear that at leisure,  
The whole house reels with joy at the report  
Of lidian's safety, and that joy increased  
From their affection to the brave Lisander,  
In being made the happy instrument to compound  
The bloody difference.  Leon. 
They will hear shortly that  
Will turn their mirth to mourning, he was then  
The principal means to save two lives, but since  
There are two fall'n, and by his single hand,  
For which his life must answer, if the King,  
Whose arm is long, can reach him.  Cla. 
We have now no spare time to hear stories, take this key,  
'Twill make your passage to the banquetting house  
I' the garden free.  Leon. 
You will not fail to come?  Cla. 
For mine own sake ne'er doubt it? now for Lisander. Exit.  Enter Dorilaus, Cleander, Servants with lights. Dor. 
To bed, to bed, 'tis very late.  Clea. 
To bed all, I have drunk a health too much,  Dor. 
You'll sleep the better,  
My usual physic that way.  Clean. 
Where's your Mistress?  Clarin. 
She is above, but very ill and aguish:  
The late fright of her brother, has much troubled her;  
She would entreat to lie alone.  Clea. 
Her pleasure.  Do. 
Commend my love to her, and my prayers for her health,  
I'll see her ere I go. Ex. Manet Clarin.  Clarin. 
All good rest to ye:  
Now to my watch for Lisander, when he's furnished,  
For mine own friend, since I stand sentinel,  
I love to laugh i'th' evenings too, and may,  
The privilege of my place will warrant it. Exit.  Enter Lisander, and Lancelot. Lis. 
You have done well hitherto; where are we now?  Lan. 
Not far from the house, I hear by th'owls,  
There are many of your Welsh falconers about it;  
Here were a night to choose to run away with  
Another man's wife, and do the feat.  Lis. 
Peace knave,  
The house is here before us, and some may hear us;  
The candles are all out.  Lanc. 
But one i'the parlour,  
I see it simper hither, pray come this way.  Lis. 
Step to the garden door, and feel and 't be open.  Lan. 
I am going, luck deliver me from the saw pits,  
Or I am buried quick: I hear a dog,  
No, 'tis a cricket, ha? here's a cuckold buried,  
Take heed of his horns sir, here's the door, 'tis open.  Clarinda at the door. 
whose's there?  Lisan. 
Friend.  Cla. 
Sir, Lisander?  Lis. 
I.  Clarin. 
Ye are welcome, follow me, and make no noise.  Lis. 
Go to your horse, and keep your watch with care, sirrah  
And be sure ye sleep not. Ex. Lisan. Clarin.  Lanc. 
Send me out the dairy-maid  
To play at trump with me, and keep me waking,  
My fellow horse, and I now must discourse  
Like two learned Almanac-makers, of the stars,  
And tell what a plentiful year 'twill prove of drunkards,  
If I had but a pottle of Sack, like a sharp prickle,  
To knock my nose against when I am nodding,  
I should sing like a Nightingale, but I must  
Keep watch without it, I am apt to dance,  
Good fortune guide me from the fairs circles. Exit.  Enter Clarinda with a Taper, and Lisander with a Pistol, two Chairs set out. Clarin. 
Come near, Caliste sitting behind a Curtain.  
I'll leave ye now, draw but that Curtain,  
And have your wish; now Leon I am for thee.  
We that are servants must make use of stolen hours,  
And be glad of snatched occasions. Exit.  Lisand. 
she is asleep,  
Fierce love hath closed his lights, I may look on her,  
Within her eyes 'has locked his graces up,  
I may behold and live; how sweet she breathes?  
The orient morning breaking out in odours,  
Is not so full of perfumes, as her breath is;  
She is the abstract of all excellence, and scorns a parallel.  Cal. 
Who's there?  Lis. 
Your servant, your most obedient slave (adored Lady)  
That comes but to behold those eyes again,  
And pay some vows I have to sacred beauty,  
And so pass by; I am blind as ignorance,  
And know not where I wander, how I live,  
Till I receive from their bright influence  
Light to direct me, for devotions sake,  
You are the Saint I tread these holy steps to.  
And holy Saints are all relenting sweetness;  
Be not enraged nor be not angry with me;  
The greatest attribute of heaven is mercy;  
And 'tis the crown of justice, and the glory  
Where it may kill with right, to save with pity.  Cal. 
Why do you kneel, I know you come to mock me,  
T' upbraid me with the benefits you have given me,  
Which are too many, and too mighty sir,  
For my return; and I confess 'tis justice,  
That for my cruelty you should despise me,  
And I expect however you are calm now,  
A foil you strive to set your cause upon,  
It will break out; Caliste is unworthy,  
Coy, proud, disdain full, I acknowledge all,  
Colder of comfort than the frozen North is,  
And more a stranger to lisander's worth,  
His youth and faith then it becomes her gratitude,  
I blush to grant it, yet take this along,  
A sovereign medicine to allay displeasure,  
May be an argument to bring me off too;  
She is married, and she is chaste; how sweet that sounds?  
How it perfumes all air 'tis spoken in?  
O dear Lisander, would you break this union?  Lis. 
No, I adore it: let me kiss your hand,  
And seal the fair faith of a Gentleman on it.  Cal. 
You are truly valiant, would it not afflict you  
To have the horrid name of coward touch you?  
Such is the whore to me.  Lis. 
I nobly thank ye;  
And may I be the same when I dishonour ye;  
This I may do again. Kissing her hand.  Cal. 
Ye may, and worthily;  
Such comforts maids may grant with modesty,  
And neither make her poor, nor wrong her bounty;  
Noble Lisander, how fond now am I of ye?  
I heard you were hurt.  Lis. 
You dare not heal me Lady?  
I am hurt here; how sweetly now she blushes?  
Excellent objects kill our sight, she blinds me;  
The roses in the pride of May show pale to her;  
O tyrant custom! and O coward honour!  
How ye compel me to put on mine own chains?  
May I not kiss ye now in superstition?  
For you appear a thing that I would kneel to:  
Let me err that way. Kisses her.  Cal. 
Ye shall err for once, I have a kind of noble pity on you,  
Among your manly sufferings, make this most,  
To err no farther in desire, for then sir,  
Ye add unto the gratitudes I owe you;  
And after death, your dear friends soul shall bless you.  Lis. 
I am wondrous honest.  Cal. 
I dare try. Kisses.  Lis. 
I have tasted a blessedness too great for dull mortality  
Once more and let me die.  Cal. 
I dare not murder,  
How will maids curse me if I kill with kisses?  
And young men fly th' embraces of fair virgins?  
Come pray sit down, but let's talk temperately.  Lis. 
Is my dear friend a-bed?  Cal. 
Yes, and asleep;  
Secure asleep, 'tis midnight too Lisander,  
Speak not so loud.  Lis. 
You see I am a Statue,  
I could not stand else as I had eaten Ice,  
Or took into my blood a drowsy poison,  
And nature's noblest, brightest flame burn in me;  
Midnight? and I stand quietly to behold so?  
The alarm rung, and I sleep like a coward?  
I am worn away, my faith, and dull obedience  
Like crutches, carry my decayed body  
Down to the grave, I have no youth within me,  
Yet happily you love too.  Cal. 
Love with honour.  Lis. 
Honour? what's that? 'tis but a specious title  
We should not prize too high.  Cal. 
Dearer than life.  Lis. 
The value of it, is as time has made it,  
And time and custom have too far insulted,  
We are no Gods, to be always tied to strictness,  
'Tis a presumption to show too like 'em;  
March but an hour or two under loves ensigns,  
We have examples of great memories—  Cal. 
But foul ones too, that greatness cannot cover;  
That wife that by example sins, sins double,  
And pulls the curtain open to her shame too;  
methinks to enjoy you thus—  Lis. 
'Tis no joy Lady,  
A longing bride if she stop here, would cry,  
The Bridegroom too, and with just cause curse Hymen;  
But yield a little, be one hour a woman,  
(I do not speak this to compel you Lady)  
And give your will but motion, let it stir  
But in the taste of that weak fears call evil,  
Try it to understand it, we'll do no thing,  
You'll never come to know pure good else.  Cal. 
Fie sir.  Lis. 
I have found a way, let's slip into this error  
As Innocents, that know not what we did;  
As we were dreaming both let us embrace;  
The sin is none of ours then, but our fancies;  
What have I said? what blasphemy to honour?  
O my base thoughts! pray ye take this and shoot me.  
My villain thoughts? Noise within.  Cal. 
I weep your misery, and would to heaven-what noise?  Lis. 
It comes on louder.  
Kill me, and save yourself; save your fair honour,  
And lay the fault on me, let my life perish,  
My base lascivious life, shoot quickly Lady,  Cal. 
Not for the world, retire behind the hangings,  
And there stand close— my husband, close Lisander.  Clean. 
Dearest, are you well? Enter Cleander with a Taper.  Cal. 
O my sad heart; my head, my head.  Clea. 
Alas poor soul! what do you out of your bed?  
You take cold my Caliste: how do ye?  Cal. 
Not so well sir to lie by ye, my brother's fright—  Clea. 
I had a frightful dream too,  
A very frightful dream my best Caliste:  
methought there came a Dragon to your Chamber,  
A furious Dragon (wife) I yet shake at it:  
Are all things well?  Lis. 
Shall I shoot him?  Cal. 
No. All well Sir.  
'T was but your care of me, your loving care,  
Which always watches.  Clean. 
And methought he came  
As if he had risen thus out of his den,  
As I do from these hangings.  Lis. 
Dead.  Cal. 
Hold good Sir.  Clea. 
And forced ye in his arms thus.  Cal. 
'Twas but fancy  
That troubled ye, here's nothing to disturb me,  
Good sir to rest again, and I am now drowsy,  
And will to bed; make no noise dear husband,  
But let me sleep: before you can call anybody I am a-bed.  Clea. 
This, and sweet rest dwell with ye. Exit.  Cal. 
Come out again, and as you love Lisander,  
Make haste away, you see his mind is troubled:  
Do you know the door ye came at?  Lis. 
Well sweet Lady.  Cal. 
And can ye hit it readily?  Lis. 
I warrant ye;  
And must I go? must here end all my happiness?  
Here in a dream, as if it had no substance?  Cal. 
For this time friend, or here begin our ruins;  
We are both miserable.  Lis. 
This is some comfort  
In my afflictions; they are so full already,  
They can find no increase.  Cal. 
Dear speak no more.  Lis. 
You must be silent then.  Cal. 
Farewell Lisander, thou joy of man farewell.  Lis. 
Farewell bright Lady,  
Honour of womankind, a heavenly blessing.  Cal. 
Be ever honest.  Lis. 
I will be a dog else;  
The virtues of your mind I'll make my library,  
In which I'll study the celestial beauty:  
Your constancy, my armour that I'll fight in:  
And on my sword your chastity shall sit,  
Terror to rebel blood.  Cal. 
Once more farewell: Noise within.  
O that my modesty could hold you still sir,— he comes again.  Lis. 
Heaven keep my hand from murder,  
Murder of him I love.  Cal. 
Away dear friend,  
Down to the garden stairs, that way Lisander,  
We are betrayed else. Ent. Clea.  Lis. 
Honour guard the Innocent. Exit. Lis.  Clean. 
Still up? I feared your health.  Cal. 
'Has missed him happily;  
I am going now: I have done my meditations,  
My heart's almost at peace.  Clea. 
To my warm bed then.  Cal. 
I will pray ye lead. A Pistol shot within  Clean. 
A Pistol shot i'th' house?  
At these hours? sure some thief, some murderer:  
Rise ho, rise all, I am betrayed.  Cal. 
O fortune!  
O giddy thing! he has met some opposition,  
And killed; I am confounded, lost for ever. Enter Dorilaus  Dor. 
Now, what's the matter?  Clea. 
Thieves, my noble father, villains, and Rogues.  Dor. 
Indeed, I heard a Pistol, let's search about.  Enter Malfort, Clarinda, and Servants. Mal. 
To bed again, they are gone sir,  
I will not bid you thank my valour for't;  
Gone at the garden door; there were a dozen,  
And bravely armed, I saw 'em.  Clarin. 
I am glad, glad at the heart.  Ser. 
One shot at me, and missed me.  Mal. 
No, 'twas at me, the bullet flew close by me,  
Close by my ear; another had a huge Sword,  
Flourished it thus; but at the point I met him,  
But the Rogue taking me to be your Lordship,  
(As sure your name is terrible, and we  
Not much unlike in the dark) roared out aloud,  
'Tis the kill cow Dorilaus, and away  
They ran as they had flown: now you must love me,  
Or fear me for my courage wench.  Clarin. 
O Rogue?  
O lying Rogue, Lisander stumbled Madam,  
At the stair's head, and in the fall the shot went off;  
Was gone before they rose.  Cal. 
I thank heaven for't.  Clari. 
I was frighted too, it spoiled my game with Leon.  Cle. 
You must sit up; and they had come to your Chamber  
What pranks would they have played: how came the door open?  Ma. 
I heard 'em when they forced it; up I rose,  
Took Durindana in my hand; and like  
Orlando, issued forth.  Clarin. 
I know you are valiant.  Clean. 
To bed again.  
And be you henceforth provident, at sunrising  
We must part for a while.  Dor. 
When you are a-bed,  
Take leave of her, there 'twill be worth the taking;  
Here 'tis but a cold ceremony, ere long  
we'll find Lisander, or we have ill fortune.  Clea. 
Lock all the doors fast.  Mal. 
Though they all stood open,  
My name writ on the door, they dare not enter. Exeunt.  Enter Claran, friar with a Letter. Claran. 
Turned Hermit?  Fri. 
Yes, and a devout one too: I heard him preach.  Claran. 
That lessens my belief,  
For though I grant my Lydian a scholar  
As far as fits a Gentleman, he hath studied  
Humanity, and in that he is a Master;  
Civility of manners, courtship, Arms;  
But never aimed at (as I could perceive)  
The deep points of divinity.  Fri. 
That confirms his  
Devotion to be real, no way tainted  
With ostentation, or hypocrisy,  
The cankers of Religion; his sermon  
So full of gravity and with such sweetness  
Delivered, that it drew the admiration  
Of all the hearers on him; his own letters  
To you, which witness he will leave the world,  
And these to fair Olinda, his late Mistress,  
In which he hath with all the moving language  
That ever expressed Rhetoric, solicited  
The Lady to forget him, and make you  
Blessed in her embraces, may remove  
All scrupulous doubts.  Claran. 
It strikes a sadness in me,  
I know not what to think of't.  Fri. 
Ere he entered  
His solitary cell, he penned a ditty,  
His long and last farewell to love, and women,  
So feelingly, that I confess however  
It stands not with my order to be taken  
With such Poetical raptures; I was moved,  
And strangely with it.  Claran. 
Have you the copy?  Fri. 
Yes sir:  
My Novice too can sing it, if you please  
To give him hearing.  Claran. 
And it will come timely,  
For I am full of melancholy thoughts,  
Against which I have heard with reason Music  
To be the speediest cure, pray you apply it.  
A Song by the Novice.  
ADieu fond love farewell you wanton powers,  
I am free again;  
Thou dull disease of blood and Idle hours.  
Bewitching pain,  
Fly to the fools that sigh away their time.  
My nobler love to heaven clime,  
And there behold beauty still young,  
That time can ne'er corrupt, nor death destroy;  
Immortal sweetness by fair Angels sung,  
And honoured by eternity and joy:  
There lives my love, thither my hopes aspire;  
Fond love declines, this heavenly love grows higher.  Fri. 
How do ye approve it?  Claran. 
To its due desert,  
It is a heavenly Hymn, no ditty father,  
It passes through my ears unto my soul,  
And works divinely on it; give me leave  
A little to consider; shall I be  
Out done in all things? nor good of myself.  
Nor by example? shall my loose hopes still,  
The viands of a fond affection, feed me  
As I were a sensual beast, spiritual food  
Refused by my sick ? 'tis resolved.  
How far off father, doth this new made Hermit  
Make his abode?  Fri. 
Some two days' journey son.  Claran. 
Having revealed my fair intentions to ye,  
I hope your piety will not deny me  
Your aides to further 'em?  Fri. 
That were against a good man's charity.  Claran. 
My first request is,  
You would some time, for reasons I will show you,  
Defer delivery of lidian's Letters  
To fair Olinda.  Fri. 
Well sir.  Claran. 
For what follows,  
You shall direct me; something I will do,  
A new borne zeal, and friendship prompts me to. Ex.  Enter Dorilaus, Cleander, Chamberlaine, Table, Tapers, and three stools. Clea. 
We have supped well friend; let our beds be ready,  
We must be stirring early,  Cham. 
They are made sir.  Dor. 
I cannot sleep yet, where's the jovial host  
You told me of? 'thas been my custom ever  
To parley with mine host.  Clea. 
He's a good fellow,  
And such a one I know you love to laugh with;  
Go call your Master up.  Cham. 
He cannot come sir.  Dor. 
Is he a-bed with his wife?  Cham. 
No certainly.  Dor. 
Or with some other guests?  Cham. 
Neither and 't like ye.  Clea. 
Why then he shall come by your leave my friend,  
I'll fetch him up myself.  Cham. 
Indeed you'll fail sir.  Dor. 
Is he i'th' house?  Cham. 
No, but he is hard by sir;  
He is fast in's grave, he has been dead these three weeks.  Dor. 
Then o' my conscience he will come but lamely,  
And discourse worse.  Clean. 
Farewell mine honest Host then,  
Mine honest merry Host; will you to bed yet?  Dor. 
No, not this hour, I prithee sit and chat by me.  Clean. 
Give us a quart of wine then, we'll be merry.  Dor. 
A match my son; pray let your wine be living,  
Or lay it by your Master.  Cham. 
It shall be quick sir. Exit.  Dor. 
Has not mine Host a wife?  Clean. 
A good old woman.  Dor. 
Another coffin, that is not so handsome;  
Your Hostesses in inns should be blithe things,  
Pretty, and young to draw in passengers;  
She'll never fill her beds well, if she be not beauteous.  Clean. 
And courteous too. Enter Chamberlain with wine.  Dor. 
ay, ay, and a good fellow,  
That will mistake sometimes a Gentleman  
For her good man; well done; here's to Lisander.  Clean. 
My full love meets it; make fire in our lodgings,  
we'll trouble thee no farther; to your Son. Ex. Cham.  Dor. 
Put in Clarange too; off with't, I thank ye;  
This wine drinks merrier still, O for mine Host now,  
Were he alive again, and well disposed,  
I would so claw his pate.  Clean. 
You're a hard drinker.  Dor. 
I love to make mine Host drunk, he will lie then  
The rarest, and the roundest, of his friends,  
His quarrels, and his guests, and they are the best bawds too  
Take 'em in that tune.  Clean. 
You know all.  Dor. 
I did son, but time, and arms have worn me out  Clea. 
'Tis late sir, I hear none stirring. A lute is struck.  Dor. 
Hark, what's that, a Lute?  
'Tis at the door I think.  Clean. 
The doors are shut fast.  Dor. 
'Tis morning sure, the Fiddlers are got up  
To fright men's sleeps, have we ne'er a pisspot ready?  Clea. 
Now I remember, I have heard mine Host that's dead,  
Touch a lute rarely, and as rarely sing too,  
A brave still mean.  Dor. 
I would give a brace of French Crowns  
To see him rise and Fiddle.  
A Song.  
'tIs late and cold, stir up the fire;  
Sit close, and draw the Table nigher;  
Be merry, and drink wine that's old,  
A hearty medicine 'gainst a cold.  
Your beds of want on down the best,  
Where you shall tumble to your rest;  
I could wish you wenches too,  
But I am dead and cannot do;  
Call for the best the house may ring,  
Sack, White, and Claret let them bring,  
And drink apace while breath you have,  
You'll find but cold drink in the grave;  
Plover, partridge for your dinner,  
And a Capon for the sinner,  
You shall find ready when you are up,  
And your horse shall have his sup:  
Welcome shall fly round,  
And I shall smile though under ground.  Clean. 
Hark, a Song, now as I live, it is his voice.  Dor. 
He sings well, the devil has a pleasant pipe.  Clea. 
The fellow lied sure, Enter Host.  
He is not dead, he's here: how pale he looks?  Dor. 
Is this he?  Clean. 
Yes.  Host. 
You are welcome noble Gentlemen,  
My brave old guest most welcome.  Clean. 
Lying knaves,  
To tell us you were dead, come sit down by us,  
We thank ye for your Song.  Host. 
Would 't had been better.  Dor. 
Speak, are ye dead?  Host. 
Yes indeed am I Gentlemen,  
I have been dead these three weeks.  Dor. 
Then here's to ye, to comfort your cold body.  Clean. 
What do ye mean? stand further off.  Dor. 
I will stand nearer to him,  
Shall he come out on's coffin to bear us company,  
And we not bid him welcome? come mine Host,  
Mine honest Host, here's to ye.  Host. 
spirit's sir, drink not?  Clea. 
Why do ye appear?  Host. 
To wait upon ye Gentlemen,  
'thas been my duty living, now my farewell;  
I fear ye are not used accordingly.  Dor. 
I could wish you warmer company mine Host,  
however we are used?  Host. 
Next to entreat a courtesy,  
And then I go to peace.  Clea. 
Is't in our power?  Host. 
Yes and 'tis this, to see my body buried  
In holy ground, for now I lie unhallowed,  
By the clerks fault; let my new grave be made  
Amongst good fellows, that have died before me,  
And merry Hosts of my kind.  Clea. 
It shall be done.  Dor. 
And forty stoops of wine drank at thy funeral.  Clea. 
Do you know our travel?  Host. 
Yes, to seek your friends,  
That in afflictions wander now.  Clean. 
Alas!  Host. 
Seek 'em no farther, but be confident  
They shall return in peace.  Dor. 
There's comfort yet.  Clea. 
Pray ye one word more, is't in your power mine Host,  
Answer me softly, some hours before my death,  
To give me warning?  Host. 
I cannot tell ye truly,  
But if I can, so much alive I loved ye,  
I will appear again, adieu. Exit.  Dor. 
Adieu sir.  Clean. 
I am troubled; these strange apparitions are  
For the most part fatal.  Dor. 
This if told, will not  
Find credit, the light breaks apace, let's lie down  
And take some little rest, an hour or two,  
Then do mine hosts desire, and so return,  
I do believe him.  Clean. 
So do I, to rest sir. Exeunt.  Enter Caliste, and Clarinda. Cal. 
Clarinda?  Clarin. 
Madam.  Cal. 
Is the house well ordered?  
The doors looked to now in your Master's absence?  
Your care, and diligence amongst the Servants?  Clarin. 
I am stirring Madam.  Cal. 
So thou art Clarinda,  
More than thou ought'st I am sure, why dost thou blush?  Clarin. 
I do not blush.  Cal. 
Why dost thou hang thy head wench?  Clarin. 
Madam, ye are deceived, I look upright,  
I understand ye not: she has spied Leon, aside.  
Shame of his want of caution.  Cal. 
Look on me; what, blush again?  Clarin. 
'Tis more than I know Madam;  
I have no cause that I find yet.  Cal. 
Examine then.  Clarin. 
Your Ladyship is set I think to shame me.  Cal. 
Do not deserve't. who lay with you last night?  
What bedfellow had ye? none of the maids came near ye.  Clarin. 
Madam they did.  Cal. 
'Twas one in your Cousin's clothes then,  
And wore a sword; and sure I keep no Amazons;  
Wench do not lie, 'twill but proclaim thee guilty;  
Lies hide our sins like nets; like perspectives,  
They draw offences nearer still, and greater:  
Come tell the truth.  Clarin. 
You are the strangest Lady  
To have these doubts of me; how have I lived Madam?  
And which of all my careful services deserves these shames?  Cal. 
Leave facing? 'twill not serve ye,  
This impudence becomes thee worse than lying?  
I thought ye had lived well, and I was proud of't;  
But you are pleased to abuse my thoughts; who was't?  
Honest repentance yet will make the fault less.  Clarin. 
Do ye compel me? do you stand so strict too?  
Nay, then have at ye; I shall rub that sore Madam▪  
(Since ye provoke me) will but vex your Ladyship;  
Let me alone.  Cal. 
I will know.  Clarin. 
For your own peace,  
The peace of your own conscience ask no farther;  
Walk in, and let me alone.  Cal. 
No, I will know all.  Clarin. 
Why, then I'll tell ye, 't was a man I lay with,  
Never admire, 'tis easy to be done, Madam,  
And usual too, a proper man I lay with;  
Why should you vex at that? young as Lisander,  
And able too; I grudge not at your pleasure,  
Why should you stir at mine? I steal none from ye,  Cal. 
And dost thou glory in this sin?  Clarin. 
I am glad on't, to glory in't is for a mighty Lady That may command.  Cal. 
Why didst thou name Lisander?  Clarin. 
Does it anger ye? does it a little gall ye?  
I know it does, why would ye urge me Lady?  
Why would ye be so curious to compel me?  
I named Lisander as my precedent,  
The rule I erred by, you love him, I know it,  
I grudged not at it, but am pleased it is so;  
And by my care and diligence you enjoyed him.  
Shall I for keeping counsel, have no comfort?  
Will you have all yourself? engross all pleasure?  
Are ye so hard hearted? why do ye blush now Madam?  Cal. 
My anger blushes, not my shame base woman.  Clari. 
I'll make your shame blush, since you put me to't  
Who lay with you tother night?  Cal. 
With me? ye monster.  Clarin. 
Whose sweet embraces circled ye? not your husbands;  
I wonder ye dare touch me in this point Madam?  
Stir her against ye in whose hand your life lies?  
More than your life your honour? what smug Amazon  
Was that I brought you? that maid had ne'er a petticoat?  Cal. 
She'll half persuade me anon, I am a beast too,  
And I mistrust myself, though I am honest  
For giving her the Helm, thou knowest Clarinda,  
(e'en in thy conscience) I was ever virtuous;  
As far from lust in meeting with Lisander  
As the pure wind in welcoming the morning;  
In all the conversation I had with him,  
As free, and innocent, as you'd fare heaven;  
Didst not thou persuade me too?  Clarin. 
Yes, I had reason for't,  
And now you are persuaded I'll make use on't.  Cal. 
If I had sinned thus, and my youth enticed me,  
The nobleness and beauty of his person,  
Beside the mighty benefits I am bound to,  
Is this sufficient warrant for thy weakness?  
If I had been a whore, and craved thy counsel  
In the conveyance of my fault, and faithfulness,  
Thy secrecy, and truth in hiding of it;  
Is it thy justice to repay me thus?  
To be the Master sinner to compel me?  
And build thy lust's security on mine honour?  Clarin. 
They that love this sin, love their security;  
Prevention Madam is the nail I knocked at,  
And I have hit it home, and so I'll hold it,  
And you must pardon me, and be silent too,  
And suffer what ye see, and suffer patiently;  
I shall do worse else.  Cal. 
Thou canst not touch my credit,  
Truth will not suffer me to be abused thus.  Clarin. 
Do not you stick to truth, she is seldom heard Madam,  
A poor weak tongue she has, and that is hoarse too  
With pleading at the bars, none understands her,  
Or if you had her, what can she say for ye?  
Must she not swear he came at midnight to ye,  
The door left open, and your husband cozened  
With a feigned sickness?  Cal. 
But by my soul I was honest, thou know'st I was honest.  Clarin. 
That's all one what I know,  
What I will testify is that shall vex ye;  
Trust not a guilty rage with likelihoods,  
And on apparent proof, take heed of that Madam;  
If you were innocent (as it may be ye are)  
I do not know, I leave it to your conscience,  
It were the weakest and the poorest part of ye,  
Men being so willing to believe the worst,  
So open eyed in this age to all infamy,  
To put your fame in this weak bark to the venture.  Cal. 
What do I suffer? O my precious honour,  
Into what box of evils have I locked thee?  
Yet rather than be thus outbraved, and by  
My drudge, my footstool, one that sued to be so;  
Perish both life, and honour, devil thus  
I dare thy worst, defy thee, spit at thee,  
And in my virtuous rage, thus trample on thee;  
Awe me thy Mistress, whore, to be thy bawd?  
Out of my house, proclaim all that thou knowest,  
Or malice can invent, fetch jealousy  
From hell, and like a fury breath it in  
The bosom of my Lord; and to thy utmost  
Blast my fair fame, yet thou shalt feel with horror  
To thy seared conscience, my truth is built  
On such a firm base, that if e'er it can  
Be forced, or undermined by thy base scandals,  
Heaven keeps no guard on Innocence. Exit.  Clarin. 
I am lost,  
In my own hopes forsaken, and must fall  
The greatest torment to a guilty woman  
Without revenge, till I can fashion it  
I must submit, at least appear as if  
I did repent, and would offend no farther.  
Monsieur Beronte my Lord's brother is  
Obliged unto me for a private favour;  
'Tis he must mediate for me; but when time  
And opportunity bids me strike, my wreak  
Shall pour itself on her nice chastity  
Like to a torrent, deeds, not words shall speak me. Exit.    

Actus Quartus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Alcidon, and Beronte severally. Alc. 
YE are opportunely met.  Ber. 
Your countenance expresses haste mixed with some fear.  Alc. 
You'll share with me in both, as soon as you are made  
Acquainted with the cause, if you love virtue,  
In danger not secure; I have no time  
For circumstance, instruct me if Lisander  
Be in your father's house?  Ber. 
Upon my knowledge he is not there.  Alc. 
I am glad on't.  Ber. 
Why good sir?  
(Without offence I speak it) there's no place  
In which he is more honoured, or more safe,  
Then with his friend Cleander.  Alc. 
In your votes  
I grant it true, but as it now stands with him,  
I can give reason to make satisfaction  
For what I speak; you cannot but remember  
The ancient difference between Lisander  
And Cloridon, a man in grace at Court?  Beront. 
I do; and the foul plot of cloridon's kinsmen  
Upon lisander's life, for a fall given to Cloridon  
'Fore the King, as they encountered at a solemn tilting.  Alcid. 
It is now revenged;  
In brief a challenge was brought to Lisander  
By one Chrysantes; and as far as valour  
Would give him leave, declined by bold Lisander:  
But peace refused, and braves, on braves heaped on him,  
Alone he met the opposites, ending the quarrel  
With both their lives.  Ber. 
I am truly sorry for't.  Alc. 
The King incensed for his favourites death,  
Hath set a price upon lisander's head,  
As a reward to any man that brings it  
Alive, or dead; to gain this, everywhere  
He is pursued, and laid for, and the friendship  
Between him and your noble brother known,  
His house in reason cannot pass unsearched,  
And that's the principal cause that drew me hither,  
To hasten his remove, if he had chosen  
This Castle for his sanctuary.  Ber. 
'Twas done nobly,  
And you most welcome; this night pray you take  
A lodging with us; and at my entreaty  
Conceal this from my brother, he is grown  
Exceeding sad of late; and the hard fortune  
Of one he values at so high a rate,  
Will much increase his melancholy.  Alc. 
I am tutored: pray you lead the way.  Ber. 
To serve you I will show it. Exeunt.  Enter Cleander with a book. Cle. 
Nothing more certain than to die, but when  
Is most uncertain: if so, every hour  
We should prepare us for the journey, which  
Is not to be put off. I must submit  
To the divine decree, not argue it,  
And cheerfully I welcome it: I have  
Disposed of my estate, confessed my sins,  
And have remission from my Ghostly Father,  
Being at peace too here: the apparition  
Proceeded not from fancy, Dorilaus  
Saw it, and heard it with me, it made answer  
To our demands, and promised, if 'twere not  
Denied to him by fate, he would fore warn me  
Of my approaching end, I feel no symptom  
Of sickness, yet I know not how a dulness  
Invades me all over. Ha? Enter Host.  Host. 
I come sir,  
To keep my promise; and as far as spirits  
Are sensible of sorrow for the living,  
I grieve to be the messenger to tell you,  
Ere many hours pass, you must resolve  
To fill a grave.  Cle. 
And feast the worms?  Host. 
Even so sir.  Clean. 
I hear it like a man.  Host. 
It well becomes you, there's no evading it.  Clean. 
Can you discover by whose means I must die?  Host. 
That is denied me:  
But my prediction is too sure; prepare  
To make your peace with heaven. So farewell sir, Ex.  Cle. 
I see no enemy near; and yet I tremble  
Like a pale Coward: my sad doom pronounced  
By this aerial voice, as in a glass  
Shows me my death in its most dreadful shape.  
What rampire can my humane frailty raise  
Against the assault of fate? I do begin  
To fear myself, my inward strengths forsake me,  
I must call out for help. Within there? haste,  
And break in to my rescue.  Enter Dorilaus, Caliste, Olinda, Beronte, Alcidon, Servants and Clarinda at several doors. Dor. 
Rescue? where? show me your danger.  Cal. 
I will interpose  
My loyal breast between you and all hazard.  Ber. 
Your brother's sword secures you.  Alc. 
A true friend will die in your defence.  Clean. 
I thank ye,  
To all my thanks. Encompassed thus with friends  
How can I fear? and yet I do, I am wounded,  
Mortally wounded: nay it is within,  
I am hurt in my mind: One word—  Dor. 
A thousand.  Cle. 
I shall not live to speak so many to you.  Dor. 
Why? what forbids you?  Cle. 
But even now the spirit  
Of my dead Host appeared, and told me, that  
This night I should be with him: did you not meet it?  
It went out at that door.  Dor. 
A vain chimaera  
Of your imagination: can you think  
Mine Host would not as well have spoke to me now,  
As he did in the Inn? these waking dreams  
Not alone trouble you, but strike a strange  
Distraction in your family: see the tears  
Of my poor daughter, fair Olinda's sadness,  
Your brothers and your friend's grief, servant's sorrow.  
Good son bear up, you have many years to live  
A comfort to us all: let's in to supper;  
Ghosts never walk till after midnight, if  
I may believe my Grannam. We will wash  
These thoughts away with wine, spite of Hobgoblins.  Cle. 
You reprehend me justly: gentle Madam,  
And all the rest, forgive me, I'll endeavour  
To be merry with you.  Dor. 
That's well said.  Beron. 
I have procured your pardon.  Cal. 
Once more I receive you  
Into my service: but take special care  
You fall no further.  Clar. 
Never Madam: sir,  
When you shall find fit time to call me to it,  
I will make good what I have said.  Ber. 
Till when, upon your life be silent.  Dor. 
We will have a health unto Lisander.  Cle. 
His name sir  
Somewhat revives me; but his sight would cure me.  
however let's to supper.  Olin. 
Would Clarange  
And Lydian were here too, as they should be,  
If wishes could prevail.  Cal. 
They are fruitless Madam. Ex. Enter Leon.  Leon. 
If that report speak truth, Clarinda is  
Discharged her Lady's service, and what burden,  
I then have drawn upon me is apparent,  
The crop she reaped from her attendance was  
Her best Revenue, and my principal means  
Clarinda's bounty, though I laboured hard for't,  
A younger brother's fortune: Must I now  
Have sour sauce after sweet meats? and be driven  
To leavy half a Crown a week, besides  
Clouts, soap, and candles, for my heir apparent,  
If she prove, as she swears she is with child;  
Such as live this way, find like me, though wenching  
Hath a fair face, there's a Dragon in the tail of't  
That stings toth' quick. I must skulk here, until  
I am resolved: how my heart pants between  
My hopes and fears? she's come; are we in the Port?  
If not, let's sink together.  Enter Clarinda. Clar. 
Things go better  
Than you deserve; you carry things so openly,  
I must bear every way, I am once more  
In my Lady's grace.  Leon. 
And I in yours.  Clar. 
It may be; but I have sworn unto my Lady never  
To sin again.  Leon. 
To be surprised— the sin  
Is in itself excusable; to be taken  
Is a crime, as the Poet writes.  Clar. 
You know my weakness,  
And that makes you so confident. You have got  
A fair sword; was it not Lisander's?  Leon. 
Yes wench,  
And I grown valiant by the wearing of it:  
It hath been the death of two. With this Lisander  
Slew Cloridon, and Chrysanthes. I took it up,  
Broken in the handle, but that is reformed,  
And now in my possession; the late Master  
Dares never come to challenge it: this sword,  
And all the weapons that I have, are ever  
Devoted to thy service: Shall we bill?  
I am very gamesome.  Clar. 
I must first dispose of  
The fool Malfort; he hath smoked you, and is not,  
But by some new device to be kept from me:  
I have it here shall fit him: you know where  
You must expect me, with all possible silence  
Get thither.  Leon. 
You will follow?  Clar. 
will I live?  
She that is forfeited to lust must die,  
That humour being unfed; begone, here comes Exit Le.  
My champion in Armour. Ent. Malf. in Armour.  Malf. 
What adventure  
I am bound upon I know not, but it is  
My Mistress pleasure that I should appear thus.  
I may perhaps be terrible to others,  
But as I am, I am sure my shadow frights me,  
The clashing of my Armour in my ears,  
Sounds like a passing-bell; and my Buckler, puts me  
In mind of a Beer; this my broad sword a pickax  
To dig my grave: O love, abominable love,  
What Monsters issue from thy dismal den,  
Clarinda's placket, which I must encounter,  
Or never hope to enter?  Clar. 
Here's a Knight errant, Monsieur Malfort.  Malf. 
Stand, stand, or I'll fall for ye.  Clar. 
Know ye not my voice?  Malf. 
Yes, 'twas at that I trembled.  
But were my false friend Leon here—  Clar. 
'tis he.  Malf. 
Where? where  Clar. 
He is not come yet.  Malf. 
'Tis well for him,  
I am so full of wrath.  Clar. 
Or fear— This Leon,  
How 'ere my kinsman, hath abused you grossly,  
And this night vows to take me hence perforce,  
And marry me to another: 'twas for this,  
(Presuming on your love) I did entreat you  
To put your armour on, that with more safety  
You might defend me.  Mal. 
And I'll do it bravely.  Clar. 
You must stand here to beat him off, and suffer  
No humane thing to pass you, though it appear  
In my Lord's shape, or Ladies: be not cozened  
With a disguise.  Mal. 
I have been fooled already, but now I am wise.  Car. 
You must swear not to stir hence.  Malf. 
Upon these lips.  Clar. 
Nor move until I call you?  Malf. 
I'll grow here rather.  Clar. 
This night's task well ended,  
I am yours tomorrow. Keep sure guard. Exit Clar.  Malf. 
Adieu;  
My honeycomb how sweet thou art, did not  
A nest of Hornets keep it? what impossibilities  
Love makes me undertake? I know myself  
A natural coward, and should Leon come,  
Though this were Cannon proof, I should deliver  
The wench before he asked her. I hear some footing:  
'Tis he; where shall I hide myself? that is  
My best defence.  Enter Cleander. Cle. 
I cannot sleep, strange visions  
Make this poor life, I feared of late to lose,  
A toy that I grow weary of.  Malf. 
'Tis Leon.  Clean. 
What's that?  Mal. 
If you are come sir for Clarinda;  
I am glad I have her for you; I resign  
My interest; you'll find her in her chamber,  
I did stay up to tell you so.  Clean. 
Clarinda, and Leon!  
There is something more in this  
Then I can stay to ask. Exit.  Malf. 
What a cold pickle,  
(And that none of the sweetest) do I find  
My poor self in?  Clean. 
speaks within. Yield villain.  Enter Clarinda and Leon, running. Cleander following. Clar. 
'Tis my Lord,  
Shift for yourself.  Leon. 
His life  
Shall first make answer Kills Cleander.  
For this intrusion.  Malf. 
I am going away,  
I am gone already. Falls in a swoon.  Clean. 
Heaven take mercy on  
My soul; too true presaging Host.  Clar. 
he's dead,  
And this wretch little better:  
Do you stare upon your  
Handiwork?  Leon. 
I am amazed.  Clar. 
Get o'er the garden Wall, fly for your life,  
But leave your sword behind; inquire not why:  
I'll fashion something out of it, though I perish,  
Shall make way for revenge.  Leon. 
These are the fruits  
Of lust Clarinda.  Clar. 
Hence repenting Milksop. Ex. Leon.  
Now 'tis too late. lisander's sword, I that, Puts the sword in Malf. hand.  
That is the base I'll build on. So. I'll raise  
The house. Help, murder, a most horrid  
Murder. Monsieur Beronte, noble Dorilaus,  
All buried in sleep? ay me a murder:  
A most unheard-of murder.  Enter Dorilaus as from bed. Dor. 
More lights knaves;  
Beronte, Alcidon; more lights.  Enter Beronte, Alcidon, and Servants, with lights Clar. 
By this I see too much.  Dor. 
My son Cleander bathing  
In his own gore. The devil to tell truth i'th' shape of  
An Host!  Ber. 
My Brother?  Malf. 
I have been  
i'th' other world, in hell I think, these devils  
With firebrands in their paws sent to torment me,  
Though I never did the deed, for my lewd purpose  
To be a whoremaster.  Dor. 
Who's that?  Alc. 
'Tis one in Armour. A bloody sword in his hand.  Dor. 
Sans question the murderer.  Malf. 
Who I? you do me wrong,  
I never had the heart to kill a Chicken;  
Nor do I know this sword.  Alc. 
I do, too well.  Ber. 
I have seen Lisander wear it.  Clar. 
This confirms  
What yesternight I whispered: let it work,  
The circumstance may make it good.  Mal. 
My Lord? and I his murderer?  Ber. 
Drag the villain hence,  
The Rack shall force a free confession from him.  Mal. 
I am struck dumb;  
You need not stop my mouth.  Ber. 
Away with him. Exit with Malf.  Enter Caliste and Olinda. Cal. 
Where is my Lord?  Dor. 
All that  
Remains of him lies there: look on this object,  
And then turn marble.  Cal. 
I am so already,  
Made fit to be his monument: but wherefore  
Do you, that have both life and motion left you,  
Stand sad spectators of his death,  
And not bring forth his murderer?  Ber. 
That lies in you: you must, and shall produce him.  Dor. 
She Beronte?  Ber. 
None else.  Dor. 
Thou liest, I'll prove it on thy head,  
Or write it on thy heart.  Alc. 
Forbear, there is  
Too much blood shed already,  Ber. 
Let not choler  
Stifle your judgement: many an honest father  
Hath got a wicked daughter. If I prove not  
With evident proofs, her hand was in the blood  
Of my dear brother, (too good a husband for her)  
Give your revenge the reins, and spur it forward.  Dor. 
In any circumstance but show her guilty,  
I'll strike the first stroke at her.  Ber. 
Let me ask  
A question calmly: do you know this sword?  
Have you not seen Lisander often wear it.  Dor. 
The same with which he rescued me.  Cal. 
I do, What inference from this to make me guilty?  Ber. 
Was he not with you in the house tonight?  Cal. 
No on my soul.  Ber. 
Nor ever heretofore  
In private with you, when you feigned a sickness,  
To keep your husband absent?  Cal. 
Never sir, to a dishonest end.  Ber. 
Was not this woman  
Your instrument? her silence does confess it:  
Here lies Cleander dead, and here the sword  
Of false Lisander, too long covered with  
A mask of seeming truth.  Dor. 
And is this all  
The proof you can allege? Lisander guilty,  
Or my poor daughter an adulteress?  
Suppose that she had changed discourse with one  
To whom she owed much more?  Cal. 
Thou hast thy ends, wicked Clarinda. She falls.  Oli. 
Help, the Lady sinks, malice hath killed her.  Dor. 
I would have her live,  
Since I dare swear she's innocent: 'tis no time  
Or place to argue now: this cause must be  
Decided by the Judge; and though a Father,  
I will deliver her into the hands  
Of Justice. If she prove true gold when tried,  
she's mine: if not, with curses I'll disclaim her:  
Take up your part of sorrow, mine shall be  
Ready to answer with her life the fact  
That she is charged with.  Ber. 
Sir, I look upon you as on a father.  Dor. 
With the eyes of sorrow  
I see you as a brother: let your witnesses  
Be ready.  Ber. 
'Tis my care.  Alc. 
I am for Lydian.  
This accident no doubt will draw him from  
His Hermit's life.  Clar. 
Things yet go right, persist sir. Exeunt.  Enter Lisander, and Lancelot. Lis. 
Are the horses dead?  Lanc. 
Outright. If you ride at this rate,  
You must resolve to kill your two a day,  
And that's a large proportion.  Lis. 
Will you please  
At any price, and speedily, to get fresh ones.  
You know my danger, and the penalty  
That follows it, should I be apprehended.  
Your duty in obeying my commands,  
Will in a better language speak your service,  
Than your unnecessary, and untimely care of my expense.  Lanc. 
I am gone sir. Exit.  Lisan. 
In this thicket  
I will expect you: Here yet I have leisure  
To call myself to a strict account  
For my passed life, how vainly spent: I would  
I stood no farther guilty: but I have  
A heavier reckoning to make: This hand  
Of late as white as innocence, and unspotted,  
Now wears a purple colour, died in gore,  
My soul of the same tincture; purblind passion,  
With flattering hopes, would keep me from despair,  
Pleading I was provoked to it; but my reason  
Breaking such thin and weak defences, tells me  
I have done a double murder; and for what?  
Was it in service of the King? his Edicts  
Command the contrary: or for my Country?  
Her Genius, like a mourning mother, answers  
In Cloridon and Chrysanthes she hath lost  
Two hopeful sons, that might have done their parts,  
To guard her from Invasion: for what cause then?  
To keep th'opinion of my valour upright,  
i'th' popular breath, a sandy ground to build on;  
Bought with the king's displeasure, as the breach  
Of heavens decrees, the loss of my true comforts,  
In Parents, Kinsmen, friends, as the fruition  
Of all that I was borne to, and that sits  
Like to a hill of Lead here, in my exile,  
(Never to be repealed, if I escape so)  
I have cut off all hopes ever to look on  Enter Lydian, like a Hermit. 
Divine Caliste, from her fight, and converse,  
For ever banished.  Lid. 
I should know this voice,  
His naming too my sister, whom Lisander  
Honoured, but in a noble way, assures me  
That it can be no other: I stand bound  
To comfort any man I find distressed:  
But to aid him that saved my life, Religion  
And Thankfulness commands, and it may be  
High providence for this good end hath brought him  
Into my solitary walk. Lisander, noble Lisander.  Lis. 
Whatsoever thou art,  
That honourable attribute thou giv'st me,  
I can pretend no right to: come not near me,  
I am infectious, the sanctity  
Of thy profession (for thou appearest  
A reverend Hermit) if thou fly not from me,  
As from the plague or leprosy, cannot keep thee  
From being polluted.  Lid. 
With good counsel sir,  
And holy prayers to boot I may cure you,  
Though both ways so infected. You look wildly,  
Peace to your conscience sir, and stare upon me,  
As if you never saw me: hath my habit  
Altered my face so much, that yet you know not  
Your servant Lydian?  Lis. 
I am amazed!  
So young, and so religious?  Lid. 
I purpose (heaven make me thankful for't) to leave the world:  
I have made some trial of my strengths in this  
My solitary life; and yet I find not  
A faintness to go on.  Lis. 
Above belief: do you inhabit here?  Lid. 
Mine own free choice sir:  
I live here poorly, but contentedly,  
Because I find enough to feed my fortunes;  
Indeed too much: these wild fields are my gardens,  
The Crystal Rivers they afford their waters,  
And grudge not their sweet streams to quench afflictions;  
The hollow rocks their beds, which though they are hard,  
(The Emblems of a doting lovers fortune)  
Yet they are quiet; and the weary slumbers  
The eyes catch there, softer than beds of Down friend;  
The Birds my Bell to call me to devotions;  
My Book the story of my wandering life,  
In which I find more hours due to repentance  
Than time hath told me yet.  Lis. 
Answer me truly.  Lid. 
I will do that without a conjuration.  Lis. 
i'th' depth of meditation do you not  
Sometimes think of Olinda?  Lid. 
I endeavour  
To raze her from my memory, as I wish  
You would do the whole Sex, for know Lisander,  
The greatest curse brave man can labour under,  
Is the strong witchcraft of a woman's eyes;  
Where I find men I preach this doctrine to 'em:  
As you are a Scholar, knowledge make your Mistress,  
The hidden beauties of the heavens your study;  
There shall you find fit wonder for your faith,  
And for your eye in imitable objects:  
As you are a professed soldier, court your honour,  
Though she be stern, she is honest, a brave Mistress;  
The greater danger you oppose to win her,  
She shows the sweeter, and rewards the nobler;  
Women's best loves to hers mere shadows be,  
For after death she weds your memory.  
These are my contemplations.  Lis. 
Heavenly ones;  
And in a young man more remarkable.  
But wherefore do I envy, and not tread in  
This blessed tract? here's in the heart no falsehood  
To a vowed friend, no quarrels seconded  
With Challenges, which answered in defence  
Of the word Reputation, murder follows.  
A man may here repent his sins, and though  
His hand like mine be stained in blood, it may be  
With penitence and true contrition washed off;  
You have proved it Lydian.  Lid. 
And you'll find it true, if you persevere.  Lis. 
Here then ends my flight,  
And here the fury of the King shall find me  
Prepared for heaven, if I am marked to die;  
For that I truly grieve for.  Enter Friar: and Clarange in friar's habit. friar. 
Keep yourself concealed, I am instructed.  Clar. 
How the sight  
Of my dear friend confirms me?  Lis. 
What are these?  Lid. 
Two reverend Friars, one I know.  Fri. 
To you  
This journey is devoted.  Lid. 
Welcome Father.  Fri. 
I know your resolution so well grounded,  
And your adieu unto the world so constant,  
That though I am th'unwilling messenger  
Of a strange accident to try your temper,  
It cannot shake you. You had once a friend,  
A noble friend, Clarange.  Lid. 
And have still, I hope good father.  Fri. 
Your false hopes deceive you,  
he's dead.  Lis. 
Clarange dead?  Fri. 
I buried him.  
Some said he died of melancholy, some of love,  
And of that fondness perished.  Lid. 
O Clarange.  Clar. 
Hast thou so much brave nature, noble Lydian,  
So tenderly to love thy rivals memory?  
The bold Lisander weeps too.  Fri. 
I expected that you would bear this better.  Lid. 
I am a man sir, and my great loss weighed duly—  Fri. 
His last words were  
After Confession, live long dear Lydian,  
Possessed of all thy wishes; and of me  
He did desire, bathing my hand with tears,  
That with my best care, I should seek and find you.  
And from his dying mouth prevail so with you,  
That you a while should leave your hermit's strictness,  
And on his monument pay a tear, or two,  
To witness how you loved him.  Lid. 
O my heart! to witness how I loved him? would he had not  
Led me unto his grave, but sacrificed  
His sorrows upon mine, he was my friend,  
My noble friend, I will bewail his ashes,  
His fortunes and poor mine were born together,  
And I will weep 'em both: I will kneel by him,  
And on his hallowed earth do my last duties.  
I'll gather all the pride of spring to deck him,  
woodbines shall grow upon his honoured grave;  
And as they prosper clasp to show our friendship,  
And when they wither I'll die too.  Clar. 
Who would not  
Desire to die, to be bewailed thus nobly?  Fri. 
There is a Legacy he hath bequeathed you;  
But of what value I must not discover,  
Until those Rites and pious Ceremonies  
Are duly tendered.  Lid. 
I am too full of sorrow to be inquisitive  Lis. 
To think of his  
I do forget mine own woes.  Enter Alcidon. Alc. 
Graze thy fill, now  
Thou hast done thy business; ha? who have we here?  
Lisander, Lydian? and two reverend Friars?  
What a strange Scene of sorrow is expressed  
In different postures, in their looks and station?  
A common Painter eyeing these, to help  
His dull invention, might draw to the life  
The living sons of Priam, as they stood  
On the pale walls of Troy, when Hector fell  
Under Achilles' Spear: I come too late,  
My horse, though good and strong, moved like a Tortoise:  
Ill news had wings, and hath got here before me.  
All Pythagoreans? not a word?  Lid. 
O Alcidon—  
Deep rivers with soft murmurs glide along  
The shallow roar: Clarange!  Lis. 
Cloridon? Chrysanthes? spare my grief, and apprehend  
What I should speak.  Alc. 
Their fates I have long since  
For your sake mourned; Clarange's death, for so  
Your silence doth confirm, till now I heard not:  
Are these the bounds that are prescribed unto  
The swelling seas of sorrow?  Lis. 
The bounds Alcidon?  
Can all the winds of mischief from all quarters,  
Euphrates, Ganges, Tigris, Volga, Po,  
Paying at once their tribute to this Ocean,  
Make it swell higher? I am a murderer,  
Banished, proscribed, is there ought else that can  
Be added to it?  Lid. 
I have lost a friend,  
prized dearer than my being, and he dead  
My misery's at the height contemn the worst  
Of fortune's malice.  Alc. 
How our humane weakness,  
Grown desperate from small disasters makes us  
Imagine them a period to our sorrows,  
When the first syllable of greater woes  
Is not yet written.  Lid. 
How?  Lis. 
Speak it at large,  
Since grief must break my heart, I am ambitious  
It should be exquisite.  Alc. 
It must be told,  
Yet ere you hear it, with all care put on  
The surest Armour anviled in the shop  
Of passive fortitude; the good Cleander  
Your friend is murdered.  Lis. 
'Tis a terrible pang,  
And yet it will not do, I live yet, act not  
The torturer's part; if that there be a blow  
Beyond this, give it, and at once dispatch me.  Alc. 
Your sword died in his heart blood was found near him  
Your private conference at midnight urged  
With fair Caliste; which by her whose pure truth  
Would never learn to tell a lie, being granted,  
She by enraged Beronte is accused  
Of murder and adultery, and you  
(However I dare swear it false) concluded  
Her principal agent.  Lid. 
Wave upon wave roll o'er me.  
My sister? my dear sister?  Clar. 
Hold great heart.  Fri. 
Tear open his Doublet.  Lis. 
Is this wound too narrow  
For my life to get out at? Bring me to  
A Cannon loaded, and some pitying friend  
Give fire unto it, while I nail my breast  
Unto his thundering mouth, that in the instant,  
I may be piecemeal torn, and blown so far,  
As not one joint of my dismembered limbs  
May ever be by search of man found out.  
Cleander! Yet why name I him? however  
His fall deserved an earthquake, if compared  
With what true honour in Caliste suffers,  
Is of no moment; my good Angel keep me  
From blasphemy, and strike me dumb before  
In th' agony of my spirit, I do accuse  
The powers above, for their unjust permission  
Of virtue, innocent virtue, to be branded  
With the least vicious mark.  Clar. 
I never saw a man so far transported.  Alc. 
Give it way, 'tis now no time to stop it.  Lanc. 
Sir, I have bought Enter Lancelot.  
Fresh horses; and as you respect your life  
Speedily back 'em; the Archers of the king's guard,  
Are everywhere in quest of you.  Lis. 
My life?  
Perish all such with thee that wish it longer Strikes Lancelot.  
Let it but clear Caliste's innocence,  
And Nestor's age to mine was youth, I'll fly  
To meet the rage of my incensed King,  
And wish his favourites ghost appeared in flames,  
To urge him to revenge, let all the tortures  
That tyranny ever found out circle me,  
Provided justice set Caliste free. Ex. Lisander, Alcidon & Lancelot.  Alc. 
I'll follow him.  Lid. 
I am rooted here  Fri. 
Remember your dear friends last request, your sister's dangers,  
With the aides that you may lend her.  Lid. 
Pray you support me,  
My legs deny their office.  Clar. 
I grow still  
Farther engaged unto his matchless virtues,  
And I am dead indeed, until I pay  
The debt I owe him in a noble way. Exeunt.    

Actus Quintus.  

Scaena Prima.  Enter Dorilaus, and Servant. Dor. 
THou hast him safe?  Serv. 
As fast as locks can make him:  
He must break through three doors, and cut the throats  
Of ten tall fellows, if that he scape us:  
Besides, as far as I can apprehend,  
He hath no such invention, for his looks  
Are full of penitence.  Dor. 
Trust not a knave's looks,  
They are like a whore's oaths;  
How does my poor daughter  
Brook her restraint?  Serv. 
With such a resolution  
As well becomes your Lordship's child. Knock within.  Dor. 
Who's that?  Serv. 
Monsieur Lemure. Enter Lemur.  Dor. 
This is a special favour,  
And may stand an example in the court  
For courtesy: It is the Client's duty  
To wait upon his patron; you prevent me,  
That am your humble suitor.  King. 
My near place  
About the King, though it swell others, cannot  
Make me forget your worth and age, which may  
Challenge much more respect; and I am sorry  
That my endeavours for you have not met with  
The good success I wished; I moved the King  
With my best advantage both of time and place,  
i'th' favour of your daughter.  Dor. 
How do you find his Majesty affected?  Lem. 
Not to be  
Swayed from the rigour of the Law: yet so far  
The rarity of the cause hath won upon him,  
That he resolves to have in his own person  
The hearing of it; her trial will be noble,  
And to my utmost strength, where I may serve her,  
My aids shall not be wanting.  Dor. 
I am your servant.  Lem. 
One word more: if you love lisander's life,  
Advise him as he tenders it to keep  
Out of the way: if he be apprehended,  
This City cannot ransom him; so good morrow. Ex.  Dor. 
All happiness attend you: go thy ways,  
Thou hast a clear and noble soul: for thy sake  
I'll hold that man mine enemy, who dares mutter,  
The court is not the sphere where virtue moves Enter Serv.  
Humanity and nobleness waiting on her  Serv. 
Two gentlemen (but what they are I know not,  
Their faces are so muffled) press to see you,  
And will not be denied.  Dor. 
whate'er they are, I am too old to fear.  Serv. 
They need no usher, they make their own way.  Enter Lisander, Alcidon. Dor. 
Take you yours. Lisander! Exit. Serv.  
My Joy to see you, and my sorrow for  
The danger you are in, contend so here,  
Though different passions, nay opposed in nature,  
I know not which to entertain.  Lis. 
Your hate should win the victory from both, with justice,  
You may look on me as a Homicide,  
A man whose life is forfeited to the Law,  
But if( howe'er I stand accused) in thought  
I sinned against cleander's life, or live  
Guilty of the dishonour of your daughter,  
May all the miseries that can fall on man  
Here, or hereafter circle me.  Dor. 
To me this protestation's useless, I embrace you,  
As the preserver of my life, the man  
To whom my son owes his, with life, his honour,  
And howsoever your affection  
To my unhappy daughter, though it were  
(For I have sifted her) in a noble way,  
Hath printed some taint on her fame, and brought  
Her life in question, yet I would not purchase  
The wished recovery of her reputation,  
With strong assurance of her innocence  
Before the King her Judge, with certain loss  
Of my Lisander, for whose life, if found,  
There's no redemption; my excess of love,  
(Though to enjoy you one short day would lengthen  
My life a dozen years) boldly commands me,  
Upon my knees, which yet were never bent,  
But to the King and heaven, to entreat you  
To fly hence with all possible speed, and leave  
Caliste to her fortune.  Lis. 
O blessed Saints, forsake her in affliction? can you  
Be so unnatural to your own blood,  
To one so well deserving, as to value  
My safety before hers? shall innocence  
In her be branded, and my guilt escape  
Unpunished? does she suffer so much for me,  
For me unworthy, and shall I decline  
(Eating the bitter bread of banishment)  
The course of justice to draw out a life?  
(A life? I style it false, a living death)  
Which being uncompelled laid down will clear her,  
And write her name anew in the fair legend  
Of the best women? seek not to dissuade me.  
I will not, like a careless Poet, spoil  
The last act of my Play, till now applauded,  
By giving the world just cause to say I feared  
Death more than loss of honour,  Dor. 
But suppose heaven hath designed some  
Other saving means for her deliverance?  Lis. 
Other means? that is  
A mischief above all I have groaned under:  
Shall any other pay my debt, while I  
Write myself bankrupt? or Caliste owe  
The least beholdingness for that which she  
On all the bonds of gratitude I have sealed to,  
May challenge from me to be freely tendered?  
Avert it mercy! I will go to my grave,  
Without the curses of my creditors;  
I'll vindicate her fair name, and so cancel  
My obligation to her, to the King,  
To whom I stand accountable for the loss  
Of two of his loved subjects' lives, I'll offer  
Mine own in satisfaction, to heaven  
I'll pay my true repentance, to the times  
Present, and future, I'll be registered  
A memorable precedent to admonish  
Others, however valiant, not to trust  
To their abilities to dare, and do,  
And much less for the aery words of honour,  
And false stamped reputation to shake off  
The chains of their religion, and allegiance,  
The principal means appointed to prefer  
Societies and Kingdoms. Exit.  Dor. 
Let's not leave him; his mind's much troubled.  Alc. 
Were your daughter free,  
Since from her dangers his distraction rises  
His cause is not so desperate for the slaughter  
Of Cloridon and Chrysanthes, but it may  
Find passage to the mercy of the King,  
The motives urged in his defence, that forced him  
To act that bloody Scene.  Dor. 
Heaven can send aids,  
When they are least expected, let us walk,  
The hour of trial draws near.  Alc. 
May it end well. Exeunt.  Enter Olinda and Lydian. Ol. 
That for my love you should turn Hermit Lydian,  
As much amazes me, as your report Clarange's dead.  Lid. 
He is so, and all comforts  
My youth can hope for, Madam, with him buried;  
Nor had I ever left my cell, but that  
He did enjoin me at his death to shed  
Some tears of friendship on his Monument,  
And those last Rites performed, he did bequeath you  
As the best legacy a friend could give,  
Or I indeed could wish to my embraces.  Ol. 
'Tis still more strange, is there no foul play in it?  
I must confess I am not sorry sir  
For your fair fortune; yet 'tis fit I grieve  
The most untimely death of such a Gentleman,  
He was my worthy servant.  Lid. 
And for this acknowledgement, if I could prize you at  
A higher rate I should, he was my friend:  
My dearest friend.  Ol. 
But how should I be assured sir  
(For slow belief is the best friend of truth)  
Of this Gentleman's death? if I should credit it,  
And afterward it fall out contrary,  
How am I shamed? how is your virtue tainted?  Lid. 
There is a Friar that came along with me.  
His business to deliver you a Letter  
From dead Clarange: You shall hear his testimony.  
Father, my reverend Father, look upon him,  
Such holy men are Authors of no Fables.  Enter Clarange (with a Letter writ out) and friar. Ol. 
They should not be, their lives and their opinions,  
Like brightest purest flames should still burn upwards,  
To me sir? (delivers the Letter.  Clar. 
If you are the fair Olinda—  Friar. 
I do not like these cross points.  Clar. 
Give me leave, I am nearest to myself. What I have plotted  
Shall be pursued: you must not overrule me.  Ol. 
Do you put the first hand to your own undoing?  
Play to betray your game? Mark but this letter.  
Lady I am come to claim your noble promise, Reads.  
If you be Mistress of your word, ye are mine,  
I am last returned: your riddle is dissolved,  
And I attend your faith. Your humble servant Clarange.  
Is this the Friar that saw him dead?  Lid. 
'Tis he.  
Clarange on my life: I am defeated:  
Such reverend habits juggle? my true sorrow  
For a false friend not worth a tear derided?  Fri. 
You have abused my trust.  Ol. 
It is not well, nor like a gentleman.  Clar. 
All stratagems  
In love, and that the sharpest war, are lawful,  
By your example I did change my habit,  
Caught you in your own toil, and triumph in it,  
And what by policy's got, I will maintain  
With valour; no Lisander shall come in again to fetch you off.  Lid. 
His honoured name  
Pronounced by such a treacherous tongue is tainted,  
Maintain thy treason with thy sword? With what  
Contempt I hear it; in a Wilderness  
I durst encounter it, and would, but that  
In my retired hours, not counterfeited  
As thy religious shape was, I have learned  
When Justice may determine such a cause,  
And of such weight as this fair Lady is,  
Must not be put to fortune, I appeal  
Unto the King, and he whose wisdom knows  
To do his subjects right in their estates,  
As graciously with judgement will determine  
In points of honour.  Olin. 
I'll steer the same course with you.  Claran 
I'll stand the trial.  Fri. 
What have you done? or what intend you?  Claran. 
Ask not; I'll come off with honour. Exeunt.  Enter Beronte, Clarinda, Malfort, a bar set forth, Officers. Ber. 
Be constant in your proofs: should you shrink back now,  
Your life must answer it, nor am I safe,  
My honour being engaged to make that good  
Which you affirm.  Clarin. 
I am confident, so dearly  
I honoured my dead Lord, that no respect,  
Or of my lady's bounties (which were great ones  
I must confess) nor of her former life,  
For while that she was chaste, indeed I loved her,  
Shall hinder me from lending my assistance  
Unto your just revenge— mine own I mean, aside.  
If Leon keep far off enough, all's secure:  
Lisander dares not come in, modest blushes  
Parted with me long since, and impudence  
Armed with my hate, unto her innocence shall be  
The weapon I will fight with now  Ber. 
The rack  
Being presented to you, you'll roar out  
What you conceal yet,  Mal. 
Conceal? I know nothing  
But that I shall be hanged, and that I look for,  
It is my destiny, I ever had  
A hanging look; and a wise woman told me,  
Though I had not the heart to do a deed  
Worthy the halter, in my youth or age,  
I should take a turn with a wry mouth and now  
'Tis come about: I have penned mine own ballad  
Before my condemnation, in fear  
Some rimer should prevent me: here's my Lady?  
Would I were in heaven, or a thousand miles hence,  
That I might not blush to look on her.  Enter Dorilaus, Caliste, Olinda. Dor. 
You behold this preparation, and the enemies  
Who are to fight against your life, yet if  
You bring no witness here, that may convince ye  
Of breach of faith to your Lords bed, and hold up  
Unspotted hands before the King, this trial  
You are to undergo, will but refine,  
And not consume your honour.  Cal, 
How confirmed  
I am here, whatsoever Fate falls on me,  
You shall have ample testimony; till the death  
Of my dear Lord, to whose sad memory  
I pay a mourning widows tears, I lived  
Too happy in my holiday trim of glory,  
And courted with felicity, that drew on me,  
With other helps of nature, as of fortune,  
The envy, not the love of most that knew me,  
This made me to presume too much, perhaps  
Too proud; but I am humbled; and if now  
I do make it apparent, I can bear  
Adversity with such a constant patience  
As will set off my innocence, I hope sir,  
In your declining age, when I should live  
A comfort to you, you shall have no cause,  
howe'er I stand accused, to hold your honour  
Shipwrecked in such a daughter.  Ol. 
O best friend, my honour's at the stake too, for—  Dor. 
Be silent; the King.  Enter King, Lemure, and Attendants. Lem. 
Sir, if you please to look upon  
The Prisoner, and the many services  
Her Father hath done for you—  King. 
We must look on  
The cause, and not the persons. Yet beholding  
With an impartial eye, th' excelling beauties  
Of this fair Lady, which we did believe  
Upon report, but till now never saw 'em,  
It moves a strange kind of compassion in me;  
Let us survey you nearer, she's a book  
To be with care perused; and 'tis my wonder,  
If such misshapen guests, as lust and murder,  
At any price should ever find a lodging  
In such a beauteous Inn! mistake us not,  
Though we admire the outward structure, if  
The rooms be foul within, expect no favour.  
I were no man, if I could look on beauty  
Distressed, without some pity; but no King,  
If any superficial gloss of feature  
Could work me to decline the course of Justice.  
But to the cause, Cleander's death, what proofs  
Can you produce against her?  Ber. 
Royal sir, touching that point my brother's death,  
We build on suppositions.  King. 
Suppositions? how? Is such a Lady sir to be condemned  
On suppositions?  Ber. 
They are well grounded sir:  
And if we make it evident she is guilty  
Of the first crime we charge her with, Adultery,  
That being the parent, it may find belief,  
That murder was the issue.  King. 
We allow  
It may be so; but that it may be, must not  
Infer a necessary consequence  
To cast away a Lady's life. What witnesses  
To make this good?  Ber. 
The principal, this woman,  
For many years her servant; she hath taken  
Her oath in Court. Come forward.  King. 
By my Crown a lying face.  Clar. 
I swore sir for the King:  
And if you are the party, as I do  
Believe you are, for you have a good face,  
however mine appears, swearing for you sir,  
I ought to have my oath pass.  King. 
Impudent too? well, what have you sworn?  Clar. 
That this Lady was  
A goodly tempting Lady, as she is:  
How thinks your Majesty? and I her servant,  
Her officer as one would say, and trusted  
With her closest Chamber-service; that Lisander  
Was a fine timbered gentleman, and active,  
That he could do fine gambols  
To make a Lady merry; that this pair,  
A very loving couple, mutually  
Affected one another: so much for them sir.  
That I, a simple waiting-woman, having taken  
My bodily oath, the first night of admittance  
Into her ladyship's service, on her slippers,  
(That was the book) to serve her will in all things,  
And to know no Religion but her pleasure,  
'Tis not yet out of fashion with some Ladies;  
That I, as the premises show, being commanded  
To do my function, in conveyance of  
Lisander to her chamber, (my Lord absent,  
On a pretended sickness) did the feat,  
(It cannot be denied) and at dead midnight  
Left 'em together: what they did, some here  
Can easily imagine? I have said, sir.  Dor. 
The devils Oratrix.  King. 
Then you confess you were her Bawd?  Clar. 
That's course, her agent sir.  King. 
So goody agent? and you think there is  
No punishment due for your agentship?  Clar. 
Let her suffer first,  
Being my better, for adultery,  
And I'll endure the Mulct imposed on Bawds,  
Call it by the worst name.  Cal. 
Live I to hear this?  King. 
Take her aside. Your answer to this Lady?  Cal. 
Heaven grant me patience: to be thus confronted,  
(O pardon Royal sir a woman's passion)  
By one, and this the worst of my misfortunes,  
That was my slave, but never to such ends sir,  
Would give a statue motion into fury:  
Let my passed life, my actions, nay intentions,  
Be by my grand accuser justly censured,  
(For her I scorn to answer) and if they  
Yield any probability of truth  
In that she urges, and I will confess  
A guilty cause; the people's voice, which is  
The voice of truth, my husband's tenderness  
In his affection to me, that no dotage  
But a reward of humbleness, the friendship  
Echoed through France between him and Lisander,  
All make against her; for him, in his absence,  
( whatever imputation it draw on me)  
I must take leave to speak: 'tis true, he loved me,  
But not in such a wanton way, his reason  
Mastered his passions: I grant I had  
At midnight conference with him; but if he  
Ever received a farther favour from me,  
Then what a sister might give to a brother,  
May I sink quick: and thus much, did he know  
The shame I suffer for him, with the loss  
Of his life for appearing, on my soul  
He would maintain. Enter Lisander, and Alcidon.  Lis. 
And will, thou clear example of women's pureness.  King. 
Though we hold her such,  
Thou hast expressed thyself a desperate fool,  
To thrust thy head into the lion's jaws,  
The justice of thy King.  Lis. 
I came prepared for't,  
And offer up a guilty life to clear  
Her innocence; the oath she took, I swear to;  
And for cleander's death, to purge myself  
From any colour malice can paint on me,  
Or that she had a hand in't, I can prove  
That fatal night when he in his own house fell,  
And many days before, I was distant from it  
A long day's journey.  Clarin. 
I am caught.  Ber. 
If so,  
How came your Sword into this Steward's hands? stand forth.  Mal. 
I have heard nothing that you spoke;  
I know I must die, and what kind of death  
Pray you resolve me, I shall go away else  
In a qualm; I am very faint.  Enter Leon, Servants, and Guard King 
Carry him off, his fear will kill him. Ex. with Mal.  Dor. 
Sir, 'twas my ambition,  
My daughter's reputation being wounded  
I'th' general opinion, to have it  
Cured by a public trial; I had else  
Forborn your Majesty's trouble: I'll bring forth  
cleander's murderer, in a wood I heard him  
As I rod sadly by, unto himself  
With some compunction, though this devil had none,  
Lament what he had done, cursing her lust,  
That drew him to that bloody fact.  Leon. 
To lessen  
The foulness of it, for which I know justly  
I am to suffer, and with my last breath  
To free these Innocents, I do confess all;  
This wicked woman only guilty with me.  Clari. 
Is't come to this? thou puling Rogue, die thou  
With prayers in thy mouth; I'll curse the laws  
By which I suffer, all I grieve for is,  
That I die unrevenged.  Leon. 
But one word mote sir,  
And I have done; I was by accident where  
Lisander met with Cloridon, and Crysanthes,  
Was an ear witness when he sought for peace,  
Nay, begged it upon colder terms then can  
Almost find credit, his past deeds considered,  
But they deaf to his reasons, severally  
Assaulted him, but such was his good fortune,  
That both fell under it; upon my death  
I take it uncompelled, that they were guilty  
Of their own violent ends; and he against  
His will, the Instrument.  Alc. 
This I will swear too, for I was not far off.  Dor. 
They have alleged  
As much to wake your sleeping mercy sir,  
As all the Advocates of France can plead  
In his defence.  King. 
The criminal judge shall sentence  
These to their merits— with mine own hand Lady  
I take you from the bar, and do myself  
Pronounce you innocent. Ex. with Leon, and Clarin.  All. 
Long live the King.  King 
And to confirm you stand high in our favour,  
And as some recompense for what you have  
With too much rigour in your trial suffered;  
Ask what you please, becoming me to grant,  
And be possessed of't.  Cal. 
Sir, I dare not doubt  
Your royal promise, in a King it is  
A strong assurance, that emboldens me  
Upon my humble knees to make my boon  
lisander's pardon.  Dor. 
My good Genius did prompt her to it.  Lem. 
At your feet thus prostrate, I second her petition.  Alc. 
Never King  
Poured forth his mercy on a worthier subject.  Ber. 
To witness my repentance for the wrong  
In my unjust suspicion I did both;  
I join in the same suit.  Lis. 
The life you give,  
Still ready to lay down for your service.  
Shall be against your enemies employed,  
Not hazarded in brawls.  All. 
Mercy dread sir.  King. 
So many pressing me, and with such reason's  
Moving compassion, I hope it will not  
Be censured levity in me though I borrow  
In this from justice to relieve my mercy;  
I grant his pardon at your intercession,  
But still on this condition; you Lisander,  
In expiation of your guilt, shall build  
A monument for my Cloridon, and Crysanthes:  
And never henceforth draw a Sword, but when  
By us you are commanded, in defence of  
The Flower de Luce and after one years' sorrow  
For your dear friend, cleander's wretched fate,  
Marry Caliste. Ent. Lydian.  Lis. 
On your sacred hand, I vow to do it seriously.  Lid. 
Great sir stay,  
Leave not your seat of justice, till you have  
Given sentence in a cause as much important  
As this you have determined.  King. 
Lydian? Enter Clarange, and friar  Lid. 
He sir, your humbled subject, I accuse Clarange  
Of falsehood in true friendship at the height;  
We both were suitors to this Lady, both  
Enjoined one penance.  Clara. 
Trouble not the King  
With an unnecessary repetition  
Of what the Court's familiar with already.  King. 
Clarange?  Dor. 
With a shaven crown?  Olin. 
Most strange,  Claran. 
Look on thy rival, your late servant Madam,  
But now devoted to a better Mistress,  
The Church, whose orders I have took upon me:  
I here deliver up my interest to her;  
And what was got with cunning as you thought,  
I simply thus surrender: heretofore,  
You did outstrip me in the race of friendship,  
I am your equal now.  Dor. 
A suit soon ended.  Claran. 
And joining thus your hands, I know both willing,  
I may do in the Church my friar's Office  
In marrying you.  Lid. 
The victory is yours sir.  King. 
It is a glorious one, and well set's of  
Our Scene of mercy; to the dead we tender  
Our sorrow, to the living ample wishes  
Of future happiness: 'tis a king's duty  
To prove himself a father to his Subjects:  
And I shall hold it if this well succeed,  
A meritorious, and praise worthy deed. Exeunt.     

Prologue.  
A Story, and a known one, long since writ,  
Truth must take place, and by an able wit,  
Foul mouthed detraction daring not deny  
To give so much to Fletcher's memory;  
If so, some may object, why then do you  
Present an old piece to us for a new?  
Or wherefore will your professed writer be  
(Not taxed of theft before) a Plagary?  
To this he answers in his just defence,  
And to maintain to all our Innocence,  
Thus much, though he hath travelled the same way,  
Demanding, and receiving too the pay  
For a new Poem, you may find it due,  
He having neither cheated us, nor you;  
He vows, and deeply, that he did not spare  
The utmost of his strengths, and his best care  
In the reviving it, and though his powers  
Could not as he desired, in three short hours  
Contract the Subject, and much less express  
The changes, and the various passages  
That will he looked for, you may hear this day  
Some Scenes that will confirm it is a play,  
He being ambitious that it should be known  
What's good was Fletcher's, and what ill his own.   

Epilogue.  
STill doubtful, and perplexed too, whether he  
Hath done Fletcher right in this History,  
The Poet sits within, since he must known it,  
He with respect, desires that you would show it  
By some accustomed sign, if from our action,  
Or his endeavours you meet satisfaction,  
With ours he hath his ends, we hope the best,  
To make that certainty in you doth rest.  
FINIS.