THE Banished Duke: OR, THE TRAGEDY OF Infortunatus. Acted at the Theatre Royal.  
Vivitur ingenio, caetera mortis erunt.  
— Nil non mortale tenemus,  
Pectoris exceptis ingeniique bonis.  Licenced and Entered according to Order. 
LONDON, Printed for R. Baldwin, near the Oxford-Arms-Inn, in Warwick-lane; and Sold by the Booksellers of London and Westminster. MDCXC.   

Prologue.  
GReat lofty Spirits, clogged with Clouds of Air,  
Soar high in hopes, and drown in deep despair:  
Whilst discontented they turn, by disdain,  
Their Theatre of Joy to Sorrow's Scene.  
For proof, we'll demonstrations to you bring,  
Of what befell a more than Popish King.  
And show you one, ambitious for a Crown,  
Aspire in Air, and in a Cloud fall down.  
We'll show you Passion, such as ne'er was seen,  
Cast up and cancelled in a Roman Queen.  
We'll treat you with a Monster, in disguise,  
Veiled with pretence; and yet not cheat your eyes.  
And if you relish not our dainty food,  
We'll fill you up a Glass of Rebel's blood;  
Blood that was shed and sacrificed to ease  
The rage of Rome, and Queen Papissa please.  
And to shut up the Feast, at last, you shall  
Have for a dish, a Christian Cannibal.  
Like Ens Rationis real, that's more rare  
Than any Show that's been in Smithfield-Fair.  
Then, for Desert, we'll bring you from the Skies,  
A Child conceived, and swaddled up in lies.  
Whose Father was, and is not, seen unknown;  
Who, like the Ostrich, doth his brood disown.  
His Mothers have supposed real, been:  
This yet unknown, that an Imperious Queen.  
And lest we Tantalise your Expectation,  
With Crabs, that set on edge this fruitful Nation,  
We'll haste the Dishes in, and feed your senses  
With Hocus pranks, and Catholic pretences.  
Then rouse your appetites above the Sphere  
Of Meat and Drink, we'll blow you up with Air:  
Air that shall make you vomit up your Dishes  
Of Transubstantiate Deities and Fishes.  
But lest your quasy Stomaches should cast up  
Your Dainties, drinking of the Roman Cup,  
We'll fill you out a Dram of Orange-juice;  
Will Antidote a Surfeit, and make Spruce  
Your drowsy Spirits: Then present your eye  
With th' end of Pride and Prodigality:  
Whose vain Results have, since the world began,  
Proved false, uncertain, and a great Trepan.  
From hence then Prudence learn, and be content  
With what you have, Distractions to prevent:  
And we will Objects, never brought to light,  
First let you see, and after bid, Good Night.   

The Names of the Actors.  


Romanus, King of Albion.  
Infortunatus, Nephew to King Romanus, Banished for pretending Right to the Crown.  
Done Alberlo, General of King Romanus' Army.  
Cancellarius, a Timist, Favourite, and Counsellor of King Romanus.  
Manlius Clericus, Chaplain in Ordinary to King Romanus.  
Oxonius, a Church-Weather cock, Mountebank of State, and King Romanus' Friend.  
Petrus Impostor, a Jesuit, and Father Confessor to Queen Papissa.  
Calamus Tremebundas, a subtle Sycophant, King Romanus' great Favourite.  
Don Ferdinando, a Banished Peer of Albion, and pretended Friend to Infortunatus.  
Belgicus, a Colonel, and Favourite of Infortunatus.  
Ingenioso, Secretary, and Counsellor to Infortunatus, Banished by King Romanus.  
Flavius, Chaplain to Infortunatus.  
Rogerus, a Clown, Knighted by Infortunatus.  
Richardus, a Country Clown, who refused to be Knighted by Infortunatus.    


Papissa, a rigid Catholic, and Queen to King Romanus.  
Poviaena, Queen Papissa's great Favourite and Counsellor.  
Form sa Catholica, a Proselyte Popish Nymph.  
Penelope, a Country Maid, in Love with Roger the Clown.  
Petrona an obscure Catholic.    
The Ghost of Antonaius Calastrophus, Mayor, Constable's, Page, Messenger's, Executioner, Midwife, Children.   

The Banished Duke: OR, THE TRAGEDY OF Infortunatus.  

ACT. I.  

The SCENE a Village in Belgium.  Enter Infortunatus, Belgicus, and Ingenioso. infortunate. 
WHat Fate doth me thus to Subjection bring?  
The Splendid Issue of a Potent King:  
I, by Exploits, in Germany and France  
My Valour showed, and Fortune did advance:  
And for this Crime, my Royal Father sent  
Me from his Face, to suffer Banishment.  
Ingrateful Cruel Romans served thus  
Brave Belisarius and Andronicus:  
Yet I (in spite of Mortals) am designed  
To live and die a Monarch in my mind.  Belgic. 
Better, Brave Prince, to live thus in Exile,  
Than be Confined within Great Albion's Isle:  
It is too small environed by the Main,  
Your swelling Orb of Greatness to contain:  
On Earth's Vast Continent then live content,  
Tho for a while you suffer Banishment.  Exit Belgicus. Enter Flavius. Flau. 
Great Prince, your Father's lately dead and gone,  
And now your Uncle does possess his Throne;  
A Popish Prince, that's neither just nor wise;  
Seduced by Fopperies, Hocus pranks, and lies.  
Doubt not the Truth of what I do Relate;  
Blame not Misfortune but submit to Fate.  Infort. 
What? Is it true? And is my Father dead?  
And now Romanus Crowned in his stead?  
Strange News! Methinks the People have more Sense,  
Than to be governed by a Roman Prince.  
Are they who (like their Prince) were always free,  
So easily Reduced to Slavery?  
Poor Souls! who from their Courage now have fell,  
May hence for ever in Repentance swell,  
To think 've lost the fit time to Rebel.  
Rebel! Is it Rebellion to Depose  
A Prince, long since, Deposed by the Laws?  
True Protestants, there, only aught to Sway,  
To whom all Subjects should Allegiance pay:  
'Tis only such that should possess that Throne;  
No Roman Successor should sit thereon:  
O Nation by Submission quite undone!  
Do they not know, if Christians once but do  
Give Gifts to Turks, they're after forced thereto;  
For once Obeying, makes Obedience due.  
What's to be done?  Flau. 
Will you live thus in Banishment, and be  
Kicked from three Kingdoms, by Conspiracy?  
Must you, who was Great Albion's Darling, now  
Unto an Outlawed Romish Sceptre bow?  
It is below your Spirit, therefore choose,  
Rather One Head than Three Crowns thus to lose.  Infort. 
I'll haste to Albion, tho' my power be small,  
I'll either stand up right, or quite down fall.  
Display my Courage, when I come ashore;  
I'll fright the Priests, and daunt the Scarlet Whore:  
I'll use no Eloquence, but plead, with Swords,  
That Right with Magnanimity affords.  Enter Don Ferdinando. Ferd. 
What? Still in Meditation! 'tis in vain;  
Better you lose your Limbs, than crack your Brain.  
Rouse up your Soul, if you your Country love,  
Or love yourself, quick into Action move.  
Do you not hear Romanus doth possess  
The Throne, whilst you Exiled live Kingdomless?  
Do you not know your great Ambition,  
Lately expressed, was to enjoy your own?  
I mean that poor, grieved and distressed Nation,  
That's now Imposed upon by Usurpation:  
To which you are true or supposed Heir.  Ingen. 
(Many have said what never One durst swear.)  Aside. Ferd. 
And (laying by your Interest) it would be  
(Since you with ease may set the Nation free)  
One of the greatest Acts of Charity.  Infort. 
Pray tell me what is't you would have me do?  
I cannot walk, nor speak, nor think, for you:  
For whether my Exercise be bad or good,  
The well-bred Ferdinando doth intrude.  Ferd. 
Call but a Council, and with them Advise;  
A Council that's both Godly, Grave, and Wise:  
To them propose whatever you think fit;  
And then let them Debate and Judge of it.  
Delay no more, Delays are ever cursed;  
And Long-Bill'd-Birds do always sing the worst.  Infor. 
I'll take Advice of those who'd Good and True,  
And Ferdinando, I put Trust in you.  Ferd. 
Let me a Cuckold be, my Wife turn Whore,  
Let me ne'er Prosper, as I've heretofore;  
Let me turn Coward, and be bathed in Sin,  
Kiss my own Sisters when my Wife lies in;  
If I on any terms whatever do  
Betray my Trust, or e'er prove False to you.  Exeunt Omnes.  

The SCENE King Romanus his Palace.  Enter Romanus and Petrus Impostor Rom. 
All my designs I cunningly have wrought,  
This stubborn Nation to subjection brought.  
I taught my Foes,  they were sick, to die;  
Now I'll profess the Art of Monarchy.  
I'll make Great Albion's Neck my Yoke to bear:  
Who will not love me, I'll compel to fear.  
I'll keep no word with Heretics, till I  
O'erthrow their Church and set up Popery.  
And all my trembling Subjects shall obey,  
Without enquiring what I do or say.  Pet. 
His Holiness of Rome still influence  
Your undertake, and be your defence.  
We'll sacrifice our Gods, and shall not fail  
To use all means to make the Church prevail,  
Which I am sure can never well be done,  
Unless you do contrive to get a Son:  
This will secure your Kingdoms and your Crown;  
And be a means to pull Usurpers down.  Rom. 
Come work this Miracle, I love the thing,  
To be the Father of a Popish King.  
If thou'lt do this, I'll certainly restore  
Rome's Revenues, which we kept back before.  
I'll make my best and greatest Subjects go  
To Rome, and kiss his Holiness' Toe.  Pet. 
Great Sir, if you the Roman Church restore,  
And make her sound, as she was once before,  
And all those wicked Heretics but bourn,  
Who to the Romish Faith refuse to turn;  
We'll send you Relics, Pardons, Holy Beads,  
Paul's Teeth a Bushel, two of Peter's Heads,  
Your venial Sins, Transgressions great and small,  
Past, Present, and to come, We'll Pardon all.  
And when you're dead, for Songs you shall not want,  
We'll canonize you, for a Holy Saint.  
And all who turn to Popery shall have Power  
To Drink and Swear, to Murder, Steal, and Whore,  Rom. 
The Devil's in that Man that would ask for more.  Enter Papissa. Pap. 
What Plots of Wit, and Stratagems of War,  
In Brains quite void of Sense, do you prepare?  
I am Great Albion's stately head, and can  
Outwit the Projects of an Ancient Man.  
Without your Aid, I quickly will pull down  
All Heretics before my Royal Crown.  
My Subjects I will to Subjection bring;  
I'm their whole Queen, and will be half their King.  
I'il wear the Royal Breeches, and I'll make  Throweth by her Gown and showeth a Pair of Scarlet Breeches. 
All Protestants to tremble and to quake.  
And if Romanus you offended be,  
I'll snatch the Sword and rule the Monarchy.  
The Roman Church in Albion I'll advance,  
I'll have but one Religion as in France:  
I'll tame my stubborn Subjects till they know  
The flaming fury of a Popish Foe.  Rom. 
Hold, hold, Papissa; for I can't allow,  
To bear the Sword and wear the Breeches too.  
You would unking and pull me from my Throne;  
But you had best make haste and get you gone.  Pap. 
How gone! I hitherto my ground have stood,  
I'm come of more than Royal, Holy Blood.  
My Uncle is the lofty Pope of Rome,  
That doth command all Kings in Christendom.  
Then by our Lady, and the Pope's Great Toe,  She pulleth him by the Cravat and Periwig. 
You put me in a rage by saying so.  Rom. 
How? Confidence, This cannot be endured:  
Call in the Guards, and let her be secured.  Enter Cancellarius. Canc. 
Great Madam, I'm ashamed to see such actions,  
Which presage more, and greater Court-distractions.  Pap. 
A King's but like another Man to me;  
Should he live Fop, I will an Empress be.  Rom. 
Was ever King Infortunate like me?  
Who Married one below my Pedigree,  
That now insults and hectors, as you see.  [Ex. Omnes.  

The SCENE Infortunatus 's Chamber: Enter Infortunatus, Belgicus, Ferdinando, Flavius, and Ingenioso.  Infor. 

The Members of my Council are but few,  
Yet hope they're Worthy, Valiant, Wise and True.   

You know my Father's lately dead and gone,  
And now Romanus doth possess his Throne,  
He was the Man that did undo us all,  
Who Banished me, and did contrive my Fall.  
But I'm resolved with all the speed I can,  
To go for Albion and list every Man  
That will prove Faithful to my Cause and me;  
And set oppressed wretched Albion free.  
Yet I would know your mind;  we go hence,  
In a design of so great consequence.   Belg. 
Brave Sir, a clearer case was never known,  
Than for a Prince to plead to have his own:  
We'll hast to Sea, both Men and Arms prepare,  
Your cause is just, if you be Lawful Heir.  
You shall have all the aid I can afford,  
I'll be the first Man that shall go on Board.  Ferd. 
There's no necessity, at such a time,  
To clear our cause of any forged Crime,  
Or to excuse ourselves of Treason, since  
Romanus ever was a Popish Prince.  
Tho' Timists should be guilty, and refuse  
Assistance to our Forces, let them choose;  
Yet no true Protestants can aid deny,  
Unless Self-Interest give their Souls the lie.  
Then rouse, Brave Prince, assure yourself that we  
In all designs victorious will be.  
The great Temptations that we do endure,  
May drive us to so desperate a Cure;  
We're Banished, Broke, of all our Friends deprived,  
Of Wives and Children too: And now arrived  
In a strange Country, of another Tongue,  
 we'll live so, our Foes shall eat their dung:  [in great Passion. 
We'll unthrone Kings, the Popish Priests o'erthrow,  
And make the Pope himself subjection know.  
We'll drown Candaula, in a Scarlet Flood,  
I'll die my Sword in Babylonian Blood.  
I long until I land on Albion's Shore,  
To raise a Tempest of Blood, Wounds, and Gore.  Flau. 
Doubt not your success but put all your trust  
In Providence, and in a Cause so just.  
I'll preach and pray the Heavens to influence  
Your Expedition, and be your defence.  
I will stir up all Protestants to fight  
For you, who strives to keep them in their right.  
I'll raise my voice above the beat of Drum,  
And whether Men will or not, I'll make them come.  Ingen. 
Hold Gentlemen, I am not of your mind,  
You waste your courage in a cloud of Wind.  
Romanus now is Albion's great defence;  
Who covers all his projects with Pretence:  
And Tongues of popish Princes are set out  
With guilded words, but poisoned at the Root:  
His Subjects will believe him for a while,  
And all accost him with a grateful Smile;  
But e'er a year go round, they'll find that he  
Will prove perfidious, false like Popery.  
Then all Religious Subjects will combine  
To bring you home, and forward your design.  
Therefore forbear, distractions to prevent,  
And live another Year in Banishment.  Infort. 
'Tis strange to see Men of politic wit  
Nibble at all, and yet at nothing hit;  
'Tis not observable what any says,  
As long's a Council drives contrary ways.  
Call in some Conjurer, that I may know  
If we shall Albion's Monarch overthrow.  Enter Conjurer, in a prodigious dress, and with a formidable aspect, staring Infortunatus in the Face. Conjur. 
Great Prince, I am come here, at your command,  
To answer you whatever you demand.  Infort. 
Tell me (thou Son of Satan) if I shall,  
By force of Arms, make Albion's Monarch fall?  Conjur. 
Leo ascends, and looks unto the Moon,  After he had looked on an Almanac or Conjuring Book. 
He roars and threatens to pull Taurus down:  
And so I know, by this, your Planet's good:  
You'll conquer Albion without shedding Blood.  Infort. 
This Astronomick Fool Nonsense doth prate,  
But cannot tell our Fortunes, nor our Fate.  
Old Antoninus could discover more  
Than all th' Enchanters of the Scarlet Whore.  
Canst thou not in the twinkling of an Eye  
Bring here the Ghost of old Calastrophy?  Conjur. 
— I'll try.  The Conjurer goes under a Hanging, and maketh an hideous noise through a Reed or speaking Trumpet, in these or such Words. 
Rabbi David Eliazer, cumque Nicolosa Vinsamor, mnmus, absumus, abchaos, abdemor Gorgon.  Enter Ghost in a White Shroud. Infort. 
Advance pale Ghost, that's in a Surplice, come  
From Styx, or Lethe, or Elysium.  
Fill up a Glass of State-Politick Wine;  [Taketh up a Drinking Glass. 
I'll drink my Service to this grim Divine.  
Old Gentleman, that looks so pale and green,  
Good Health to all our Friends where you have been.  Ghost. 
What wicked Madness doth possess your Brain?  
To bring me from my residence again?  
In Life you brought in danger my grey Head,  
Now you molest me after I am dead.  Infort. 
Hold, hold, Old Man; And why a Wheedler still?  
I'll make you serve me now against your Will:  
I'm half a Monarch, and desire to know,  
If I shall King Romanus overthrow.  
My Father's Dead, and he doth wear his Crown,  
A Popish Prince, therefore would pull him down.  Ghost. 
Are there no Men alive could let you know,  
If your Designs would take effect or no?  
Go, go, and prosper, whilst your Head is hot,  
Though all will prove but like the former Plot;  
Yet in a few days space you shall with me,  
In silent Grave, a Residenter be.  Flau. 
Old Friend, Why dost thou thus possess our Ears,  
With Ghostly Maggots, Jealousies, and Fears?  
As tho' we knew not what and how to do,  
In great Exploits of War as well as you.  
He is invited o'er with sighs and smiles,  
By all the People within Albion's Isles,  
And is assured, as soons he comes to Land,  
To have both Gold and Money at command.  
There have been several Messengers here sent  
For him, the Kingdom's ruin to prevent;  
For Popish Kings serve but to ruin Nations;  
They keep no Word for Mental Reservations.  
Let your Prediction then be smooth and good,  
Without effusion of a Sea of Blood,  
That our great want of Armour now may be,  
Supplied by you, in Magnanimity;  
And we may boldly fight in such a Cause,  
Lives, Church and State, Religion, and our Laws.  Ghost. 
Leave off to talk, for I will speak no more  
Of your Design, than I have done before.  Infort. 
Thou Church-Hobgobling, Mountebank of State,  
Time's Weathercock, confounder of my Fate,  
I thee adjure, by Earth and by the Sea,  
And all the dark Intrigues 'twixt thee and me.  
By that broad Beard, and by thy Triple Name,  
By Babel's Whore, and thy immortal Fame,  
To tell me if to Albion I shall go,  
And whether it will prove my overthrow?  Ghost. 
Go, go in haste, and Sail the swelling Main,  
I'll tell you more when you return again.  Infort. 
Hence, get thee gone, Impostor of the Age,  
And act no more on this inferior Stage;  
But that I know thou art already Dead,  
I would cut off thy old Politic Head.  [Draws his Sword and strikes, whilst the Ghost evanisheth. 
Sure I can worst a Babylonian ELF,  [The Pope of Rome. 
When I can frighten thus Grim Mars himself.  Enter Messenger from Albion. Messeng. 
Brave Prince, I'm come from Albion to declare,  
That you're reputed there our Lawful Heir;  
And though your Uncle doth possess the Crown,  
His Subjects do not love him; pull him down:  
A Roman Catholic who never sticks  
To falsify his Word to Heretics.  
His Queen's an Empress, and in spite of Fate,  
She'll steer the Helm of Kingdom, Church and State.  
She wears the Royal Breeches, yet must do  
What e'er the Pope of Rome commands her to.  
And though her Crimes and Wickedness abound,  
(To spot the Skies, and Albion confound)  
His Holiness (as all her Priests do tell)  
Can save her Soul, and sing her out of Hell.  
She doth protest and swear by all that's good,  
Taking her Oath in Sacraments of Blood,  
That Albion's Church shall suddenly fall down,  
And kneel before the Pope's great Triple Crown.  
Our Bleeding Nation thus relief defers,  
Whilst Church and State turn your Petitioners.  
We'll rather choose before your feet to fall,  
Than be a Foot stool to a Cannibal;  
That Cannibal which in subjection brings,  
All Powers on Earth, Deposing mighty Kings.  
Our case the object of your pity make,  
Since we, and all we have, do lie at stake.  
Come o'er then, come, let not your Heart be faint,  
You neither shall for Men nor Money want.  
Ne'er fear your Fate, nor what Rome's rage can do,  
We serve ourselves in standing close to you;  
You still have been the object of our eye,  
Our confidence whereon we do rely.  
Now Peers and People solemnly do vow,  
To rise and fall, to live and die with you;  
Yea, Nodnol-City, can and will alone,  
Secure your Right, and set you on the Throne.  Infort. 
My Fleet is Rigged, I'll quickly go to Sea,  
This Sword of mine shall set three Nations free.  Ingen. 
Forbear, brave Sir, for what wise Prince relies,  
Without assurance, on uncertainties?  
Great Words, blown up with promises of Air,  
Delude the Mind, but vanish in Despair.  
Should you but go to Albion, and then find  
Your expectation blasted by the Wind,  
You would yourself undo, three Nations bring  
In greater Slavery to a Popish King.  Infort. 
If you prate more, this Sword shall run you thorough,  
But all prepare to go on Board to morrow.  [Exeunt omnes.  

The SCENE Petrus Impostor's Chamber.  Enter Petrus Impostor, in a Ghostly Popish Dress, with Formosa, a Proselyte Popish Maid. Formos'. 
My Ghostly Father, I'm come to confess  
My Youthful Sins, and Wanton Wickedness.  Petr. 
Come let us have near converse with another,  [He proffereth to take her under the Hanging: 
And then I'll pardon all your sins together.  Formos'. 
I keep my Lent, and justly can deny,  
With Ghostly Fathers in a Bed to lie.  Petr. 
Then let me—  
So small a matter will not turn you Whore.  Formos'. 
It is a Sin.  Petr. 
It is no sin at all,  
For Fornication is but Venial.  
But know you not that I can Pardon Sin?  Formos'. 
'Tis not the right way that you do begin  Petr. 
If you be so straitlaced, and will not do,  
I'll have ten pound for Pardoning of you.  Formos'. 
Than be a Whore, I'll twenty pay in Gold:  
But how can Pardons thus be bought and sold?  Petr. 
I am a Journy-man, and 'tis my Trade  
To spend my Lungs to gain my Daily Bread;  
But, if you love yourself, with speed, confess  
Your Mortal Sins, and all your Wickedness.  [She muttereth and confesseth. Petr. 
O these are heinous sins, and there is none  
That can forgive them, but the Pope alone.  Formos'. 
What can be done then, in so great a straight,  
Since to confess. my sins is now too late?  Petr. 
The Queen of Heaven doth hang upon this Pin,  [Pointing at the Virgin Mary 's Picture. 
And with a wink can pardon all your Sin.  
If she a tear drop from her gracious eye,  
You're happy then to all Eternity;  
If not, you are undone, then go and Pray,  
And Ave-maries' to our Lady say.  She muttereth and maketh Mouths on the V Mary's Picture, whilst he goeth behind the Hanging, and squirteth water through its Eye, which she perceiveth, and in passion, sayeth, Formos'. 
Can this your Holy Church commit such things,  
That doth Depose and set up Mighty Kings?  
Is this one of the Miracles of Rome,  
That to the World gives Laws and passeth Doom?  
If this be your Religion, I will choose,  
Rather than be of it, my life to lose.  
Farewell, Fare-ill, Impostor, I'll be gone;  
Of Proselited Papists I'll be none.  [He proffereth to detain her, but she will not. Exit, he following.   

ACT II.  

The SCENE Limia, a Town, in the West of Albion.  Enter Infortunatus, with his Forces from Sea, in a Gorgeous Scarlet Garb, and a Feather in his Hat. Infort. 
NOW we are passed the dangers of the Main,  
And safe arrived to Albion again:  
Now is the time of Honour and Renown,  
Then have at all, my Head against a Crown.  
And tho' my present Forces be but small  
My Valour's great, and I shall Conquer all;  
Go then provide Men, Ammunition, Arms,  
Surprise this sleeping Island with Alarms.  
Let Trumpets sound, Drum's beaten, and Cannons roar,  
To tell the Kingdom that I'm come ashore;  
And set my Standard up, that I may know  
who'll come or stay; who's Friend, and who is Foe.  Belg. 
We have no Standards, they were lost at Sea,  
With all the Train of our Artillery.  Infort. 
That's bad indeed.  Ferdin. 
But we may quickly take  
Some Lady's Petticoat, and Colours make.  Ingen. 
Sure, from that Standard, we shall never fly,  
Whilst Mars and Venus are before our eye.  Enter Richardus and Rogerus, in a Country Dress, leading Penelope a Country Maid, wearing a Scarlet Petticoat, gazing on Infortunatus. Infort. 
What people's those who boldly do intrude,  
Within the Limits of my Latitude?  Roger. 
We, and this Maid, are only come to see  
Your Grace, and wish you all prosperity.  Infort. 
I thought that you in my designs did pry,  
And might surprise me with some Treachery.  Penelop. 
I am a Maid, and have respect for you,  
And if a Man, would gladly serve you too.  Infort. 
Fair Nymph, I have a suit, deny me not,  
Lend me a while your Scarlet Petticoat;  
And when the Wars are o'er, I'll do to you,  
A greater favour, and requite you too.  Penelop. 
I'll give you it, the Complement's but small,  
If you will have my Gown you likeways shall.  [Giveth her Scarlet Petticoat to Ferdinando. Ferd. 
To think of Maids now is a deadly crime,  
But may accost you at another time.  Enter Mayor with a Mace carried before him, Guarded by the Constable and his Long Staff. Mayor. 
Great Mighty Prince, we heard you was come o'er,  
From Belgium, and Landed on our Shore;  
Therefore we're humbly come, that we may do  
You humble service, and attend you too.  
Then let us know what is your Sacred Will,  
I am the City's Mayor, he Constable.  Infort. 
Go soon proclaim me Albion's King, that I  
May it restore again to Liberty;  
(For I'm resolved to make all Papists quake,  
And rescue Church and State, which lie at stake)  
And then invite my Subjects to come in,  
To fight with me against the Man of Sin.  Mayor. 
We will proclaim you King, and Forces raise,  
And sing Encomiums to your worthy praise;  
We'll hazard all we have to fight with you,  
Our Wives and Children, Lives and Fortunes too:  
And we'll extol your Valour, if you die,  
With Monuments of Magnanimity.  Exeunt Mayor and Constab. The Trumpet soundeth without, Infortunatus is proclaimed King, with several Huzza's and Plaudities. Infort. 
I'm Albion's King, and would, at first, embrace  
My Loving Subjects by my Acts of Grace.  
I'd rather they should love me for my Good,  
Than fear and tremble for my shedding Blood.  
And fair Nymph, if you have a friend or two,  
But bring them here, I'll Knight them both for you.  Pointeth at Penelope, and Exit. Penel. 
You Dick and Roger, objects of my love,  
Respect to you, my passion now doth move:  
I'll beg the King to Knight you for my sake,  
And afterwards both Officers to make.  Richard. 
I am as much a Knight as he is King,  
Till he this Nation to Subjection bring:  
But if he'll Knight, and give me an Estate,  
I'll love and serve him then, at any rate;  
But till he give me fifty pounds per annm,  
I'll rather hold the Plough, and serve my Grannum.  Rog. 
I'll have no Honour, for a Landless Knight,  
Is like a Lantern that can give no light:  
I'll rather drive my Cart, and be invited  
To far that's course and mean, than so be slighted  
For Gentlemen, who have not, must not work  
For Honour's sake, but fight against the Turk.  Pene. 
Roger if you'll not Knighted be, I vow  
I'll neither love nor married be to you;  
But if you'll Knighted be, we'll quickly wed,  
And both (in State) go to our Marriagebed:  
Whilst we're advanced above our Pedigree,  
I shall be MADAM, you HIS HONOUR be.  Rog. 
Rather than lose my Love, I'll bid good night  
To Cart and Plough, and turn a begging Knight.  Pen. 
Your Honour will afford you every thing,  
And we'll live great in presence of a King.  Enter Infortunatus. Infort. 
What is the Reason of so long a stay?  
We do but trifle here our time away.  Pen. 
Great Sir, these are my Friends, whom here I bring,  
To be advanced to Knighthood by their KING.  
This is my Sweetheart, and that is my Brother;  
Although we do not favour one another.  Pointeth at Roger & Richard. Infort. 
Madam, I will do any thing for you,  
I'll give them Honour and Preferment too.  ROGER kisseth the King's hand, falleth on his Knee, and is Knighted by King INFORTUNATUS. Infort. 
Rise up Sir Roger, Henceforth ever be  
A Knight of Honour, Loyal unto me.  
And when I'm settled on my Royal Throne,  
You of my Privy Council shall be one.  Rog. 
I'll prove a Loyal Subject till I die,  
I'll fight with Courage for your Majesty.  Infort. 
A country Clown, if Knighted, may advance  
As far in Battle as the King of France.  
Take here this Hat, and Coat, laid o'er with Gold,  
And prove a warlike Champion, brisk and bold,  
That I may be convinced that there can  
Be Courage in a Clown and countryman:  
As for your Friend, if he will draw but nigh,  
With equal Honour, I'll him dignify.  Rich. 
I'll be no Knight, I'll rather Chimneys sweep,  
If I work hard, at night I'll sound sleep,  
I'll rather be contented in my mind,  
Than be a Knight, and go beyond my Kind;  
For Knights, without a competent Estate,  
Must learn to beg, and curse their rigid Fate.  Infort. 
Base Slave, dost thou my Favours thus deny?  
And all my Royal proffers vilify?  
But that thou art so much a Fop and Clown,  
This Sword of Honour should dispatch thee soon.  
No prudent Prince can think, in any case,  
To gain a Rebel by an Act of Grace.  
Hence then Impostor, from my presence fly,  
Less than the shadow of Nonentity.  Exit Richardus. Ferdin. 
Great Sir, your Army waiteth till you come,  
I hear the Trumpets sound, and beat of Drum.  Trumpet soundeth, and Drums beat without. Infort. 
We'll march with all our Military Force,  
We'll muster every man, both Foot and Horse.  Exeunt.  

The SCENE Alba Aula Regalis, King Romanus 's Palace.  Enter King Romanus, with his Privy Counselors Alberlo, Cancellarius, Petrus, Manlius, Calamus. Roman. 
You are my Privy Counsellors, and I  
Am your bright Sun of Sovereign Majesty;  
You are Great Britain's Wise and Watchmen now,  
And under me the Kingdom's safeguard too.  
Now I intent, if I possess my Crown,  
To pull all Protestants in Albion down;  
Then give me Counsel, that is grave and wise,  
To proseucte so brave an enterprise.  Petr. 
Command all English Heretics to turn,  
And such as will not, I will cause to burn;  
We cannot think their ruin to prevent,  
Who never eat God in the Sacrament.  Calam. 
Hold, base Impostor, thou dost boldly lie,  
No man can make a Blessed Deity:  
For God's but One, from all Eternity.  Pet. 
How Q— W— dost thou think that a Crime?  
I have made Twenty thousand in my time,  
And, as some Creatures their own Brood do eat,  
I have devoured them up like other meat.  Calam. 
Blasphemous wretch, deprived of all that's good,  
That dost pretend to eat such Flesh and Blood.  
Confounder of the Kingdom, and that's worse,  
Of Christendom the blemish, stain, and curse;  
Persuade not thus thy Prince to any thing,  
That will him quickly to subjection bring.  
No King, nor Court e'er peaceable will be,  
That is frequented by such Ghosts as thee.  Rom. 
Did we come here to hector, scold or dance?  
Or speak of things of greater importance?  
Be silent then, and be contented so;  
Or else I'll make you both to prison go.  
But Calame give Council if you can,  
Since you are known to be a Subtle man.  Calam. 
If you would have the Church of Albion fall,  
Grant Liberty of Conscience to all.  
Then when Lord Bishop, Jack, and others fight,  
The Pope of Rome comes in to plead his Right,  
And then the weakest side will, out of doubt,  
Join with the party that can bear it out.  
Thus all your Clergymen like Fox and Geese,  
Will rather driven be, than lose their Fleece.  Pet. 
The Church of Albion is but near a Kin  
To Mother Church, which they call Man of Sin.  
Therefore it will be found an easy thing,  
The Daughter with the Mother yet to bring  
In favour; that the Romish Clergy may  
Stop from the World, all means to read and pray.  Canc. 
You are mistaken, Sir, there are great odds,  
'Twixt England's Church, and Popish Wooden-Gods,  
As in those Controversies which we know,  
You are run down, and daily find it so.  Cal. 
You speak it all, for Priests can swear and vow,  
And Hector out, how much they'll act and do;  
But if they will accomplish their desire,  
It must not be by Learning, but by Fire.  Pet. 
You're but the Spawn of Papists, and the Brood  
Of Jesuits, that now would suck your Blood;  
They sent you out, at first, to make a Rent  
In Albion, without Word or Sacrament.  
Thus your Religion is a Popish Lie,  
Grown up and swaddled in State-policy,  
Hoodwinked, a Pilgrim of Apostasy.  Cal. 
Thou wicked Monster of the Man of Sin,  
Comparest with me that's Lucifyed within?  
Religion must to Loyalty submit,  
And Conscience give pre-eminence to Wit:  
I would discover else thy Popish Mass,  
And then make bare the Romish Nakedness.  Enter Messenger in haste. Mess. 
Frighted with warlike noise and beat of Drum,  
I from the West of Albion am come,  
To tell your Majesty an horrid plot,  
Deep, dangerous, and super-treason, hot.  
Which Duke Infortunatus, in a Cell,  
In shady Groves, and Dungeons dark as Hell,  
Hath long contrived, and's likely to undo  
The Roman Interest, and your Greatness too.  
He's come from Belgium, landed on our shore,  
With all the Grandeur that he had before.  
The Forces were but few which he did bring,  
Now he's grown Great, and is proclaimed King:  
He values not your Guards (he says) a pin;  
Whilst Volunteers, in Companies, come in.  Rom. 
And are you sure he's landed on our Shore?  Mess. 
I saw himself, ane heard his Cannons roar:  
The Drums did beat, the Trumpets made a sound,  
As if they would the Universe confound.  
He in a printed paper doth declare,  
Although a Bastard, that he's Albion's Heir:  
And speaketh more disgracefully of you,  
Concerning Subdus and Fraternus too.  Rom. 
I kicked the Bastard once quite out of doors,  
Made him as low as other Sons of Whores:  
Now he's returned to pull his Uncle down,  
To wrestle with me once more for the Crown.  
I value not the Venom of his Gall,  
But hope in time to make the Traitor fall.  Alb. 
How can he term himself the lawful Heir,  
Of Albion? whilst his Father did declare,  
Before his Death, that he had never been  
Wedded to any but his present Queen.  Alb. 
Great Sir, then grant me Liberty to go  
T'oppose his Force, and prove his mortal Foe.  Rom. 
When Albion once before was in distress,  
Your Father did restore its Happiness:  
Now I'll intrust his Son to save that Crown  
From him who strives t'Eclipse and pull it down.  
Take all my Foot-guard-Forces, great and small,  
Along with you, and be their General.  
Confine the swelling multitude, till I,  
In Horse and Foot, afford you more supply:  
I'll send you Gallus, Thorpius, and Stirk,  
And these three Champions will do the work;  
With them I'll send ten thousand Men in arms,  
To fright the Rebels with their fresh Alarms.  Alber. 
Great Sir, I'll prove Magnanimous and true,  
And Loyal; as my Father was to you:  
If killed, I'll bid your Majesty adieu.  Exit Alberlo. Enter Papissa, in Passion. Pap. 
Infortunatus now returned again?  
I take both Name and Person in disdain:  
Shall he a Bastard born, an empty Clown,  
Be Heir to France and wear Great Albion's Crown?  
Base born, ill bred, and base till in his Tomb;  
Base as his Mothers  
How can he for a Lawful Right now plead?  
Cast, Outlawed, and condemned to lose his Head.  
I can out of this Pillow which you see  
Produce a Royal Prince as good as he  
Which may as soon, by Transubstantation,  
Be made his Highness, in this fruitful Nation.  She pulleth a Pillow from under her Gown & throweth it among them. Man. 
Rather than he shall wear Great Albion's Crown,  
I'll burn my Surplice, and throw by my Gown,  
Renounce the Clergy, cut the Church asunder,  
And turn Bonarges, or a Son of Thunder:  
Tho old, I'll be a Gospel-Granadeer,  
And roar in smoke, like Babel's Cannoneer.  
I, with the carnal Sword, my Flock shall feed;  
And preach such Doctrine, as shall make them bleed:  
Whilst every word, Granado-like, shall smell  
Of Fire and Brimstone, that came up from Hell.  Calam. 
Don Ferdinando, that's cunning in deceit,  
Declared a Rebel both to Church and State,  
Is with th' Usurper, and commands his Horse;  
And bears the rule of all his warlike Force:  
Send him a Pardon of his former crimes,  
Committed now, and at all other times,  
He will betray the Traitor, with these few  
Deluded Myrmidons, that trouble you:  
Thus you will save much blood from being spilt,  
Until you hang the Rebels for their Gild.  Rom. 
I do approve your Council, and I'll go  
With speed, and serve the Grand Usurper so.  Exeunt omnes.  

The SCENE Infortunatus' Quarters.  Enter Infortunatus, Ferdinando, Flavius, and Ingenioso. Infort. 
I've called you here in haste, to know if I  
Shall still go on, or my design lay by.  
You see those Peers and Nobles that did vow  
To aid me with their Lives and Money too,  
Have proved perfidious, been but Traps and Snares,  
To draw me in a Labyrinth of Cares.  
If I fly back again to whence I came,  
The Roman rage will flourish to a flame;  
If I resolve the Romanists to fight,  
And should be beat, and put unto the flight,  
Then all those poor men now that follow me,  
To Queen Papissa sacrificed will be.  
Alberlo rampant to resist me's come,  
With men well disciplined by beat Drum:  
Whilst all my Forces (plainly to confess)  
Are raw, unarmed, and I am moneyless.  
From sorrow's Scene I do contemplate now  
What base deceituful people's brought me to.  Ferd. 
Are you (who was the Champion of the Nation,  
The Kingdom's Boast, and Europe's Admiration,  
Whose warlike Sword made Germany to bleed,  
And all King David's worthies did exceed)  
So soon cast down? and thus compelled to be  
Void of your wont Magnanimity?  
This Sword of mine, with irresistless blows,  
Shall gain the day, and dissipate our Foes.  Ferg. 
A man's but one, and every Musket Ball,  
If shot with care, can make a Captain fall.  
But there's no fear but we shall gain the Day,  
If you'll prove true, and do half what you say.  Ingen. 
You with Alberlo once was sworn Brother,  
To aid, to live and die with one another;  
Now is the time to try if he'll be true,  
By bringing all his Forces o'er to you.  
Send him a Letter then, and I shall find  
A way to send it, and to pump his mind.  Infort. 
What you do say I greatly do approve  
I'll mind Alberlo of his former love.  Ferd. 
I'll write a more than pressing Letter too,  
To see what Wit and Loyalty can do.  Infort. 
With speed and care then write as I command,  
And I to what you writ will put my hand.  Exit Ferdinando. Enter Belgicus Belg. 
I came to tell your Majesty that I  
Have fought a Party of the Enemy.  
We went to forage in a little Town,  
And from our Horses as we lighted down,  
Some Rebels rampant came in great disdain,  
But run the Gauntlet backward through the Lane.  
We were but sixty, and they eighty strong,  
The brush was hot, but scarce an half hour long:  
We killed Six, and they to us one man,  
Then valiantly with whip and spur they ran.  Infort. 
The News is good, may it be ever so  
Until I work Romanus overthrow:  
But soon return unto the Camp, and I  
Will keep in mind your Magnanimity.  Exit Belgicus. Enter Ferdinando. Ferd. 
I've written a Letter of transcendent sense,  
As rich in Loyalty as Eloquence:  
Great Sir, be pleased, but once to read it o'er,  
And then, as you think fit, make less or more.  Infortunatus readeth the Letter. 
Entirely Beloved Cousin,  
The Experience of your former Respects prompteth me, at present, to write to you with the greater assurance of your Loving Acceptance, and put you in Remembrance of our former favours, upon the account of which, I earnestly request you (for the respect you own to Church and State, and the particular Interest of every honest man) to assist me with your best advice, how to behave myself in so great an Undertaking, and to come over and join your Forces with ours; that we may settle every thing on a right Base, and the Kingdom may be freed from the vengeance of Popery, which hangeth over the Head of these three Languishing Nations. Which if you will be pleased to do, you will not only make yourself Famous to all succeeding Ages, in rescuing this Nation from the flaming rage of Popery, but also promote yourself above the power and revenge of your greatest Enemies, and infinitely oblige me to be  
Your Everlasting Friend, etc.  Infort. 
With speed and privacy, as I command,  To Ingenioso. 
Convey this Letter to Alberlo's hand:  
If he will grant me what I now require,  
I'll grant in Greatness what he can desire.  Ferd. 
Send likewise this, wherein with deepest sense,  
I do accost his Grace, and Excellence:  
Persuading him to join both Foot and Horse,  
To our Religious Military Force:  
If he my earnest suit slight or deny,  
This Sword of mine shall make Alberlo die.  Exit Ferdin. Ingen. 
I'll send them both in haste, and none shall know  
From whence they come, or whether they do go.  Flau. 
I'm jealous of what Ferdinando said;  
Pray let his Letter be in public read.  Infort. 
Then quickly read it o'er, that I may know  
If he will prove a counterfeit or no.  Flavius breaketh open, and readeth the Letter. 
May it please your Excellence,  
I thought it convenient to accost, and humbly acquaint you with the condition of King Infortunatus' Army; the number whereof is but few, and those badly disciplined and armed, so that it will be no hard matter to overthrow him and his weak Forces: But if you will persuade King Romanus (to whom I own my Allegiance) to pardon me all my former Crimes, Treasons and Conspiracies whereof I am guilty, against him and his late Brother, and for which I am cast, outlawed, and condemned; I will soon crush the power of our new King, and save the Nation the trouble and expense of a bloody War. Therefore (with all speed and privacy) communicate your mind to  
Your Excellency's Faithful Friend, and Humble Servant, etc.  Infort. 
Is Ferdinando (whom, for Truth and Zeal  
And mighty words, no Age could parellel)  
Become a Rogue? and turned my mortal Foe?  
Who's been my Sharer both in Weal and Woe.  
Go bring him back; for this perfidious Plot,  Pointeth at Ingen. 
I'll see the Rascal in my presence shot.  Exit Ingenioso. Flau. 
In whom can Kings put confidence? since he,  
Pretending to so much Fidelity,  
Brought to the Test, is found a timorous Slave,  
A Timist, Traitor, and a Turncoat Knave?  Infort. 
His Death shall to succeeding Ages be  
Esteemed a Monument of Treachery.  
That all who curse, with a vindictive hate,  
May wish their Foes to meet with such a Fate.  Enter Ingenioso with Ferdinando guarded with Soldiers, and his hands tied behind him. Infort. 
Monster of men, thou Judas in disguise,  
Thou Devil veiled with Perjuries and Lies;  
Perfidious wretch, how dared thou once design  
Me to betray, and ruin all that's mine?  
I never thought thee ill, but ever good,  
And in thy quarrel ofttimes spent my Blood;  
And dost thou thus require me, who for thee,  
Have run such hazards, both by Land and Sea?  
Come tie him to the Stake, and let him know  
The fury of a Friend turned to a Foe:  
I'll see him shot to death, that Traitors all  
May take example from his Tragic fall.  Two Soldiers tie him, and make ready their Muskets to shoot him. Ferd. 
Mercy, O mercy, I for mercy cry,  
You need no shots here, I for fear shall die.  Infort. 
Forbear awhile, your Muskets both lay by,  
Until we hear the Traitor's Legacy.  The Soldiers lay by their Muskets. Ferd. 
Some pity on me for your Goodness take,  
Forgive me for my Wife and children's sake:  
I swear by all that's good, I'll prove to you,  
Henceforth, a Subject faithful, good and true.  
This is the first beginning of your Reign;  
Slain not your hands with this poor blood of mine:  
I have been still partaker of your losses,  
And born the burden of your Royal crosses:  
Now let your Candour and your Innocence  
Blot out my crime, and cover my offence.  Infort. 
I know you have been sharer in my Fate,  
Also the object of my Uncle's hate:  
But how could you like Judas go astray,  
And proffer me so-basely to betray?  
To Popish hands that ne'er did Albion good,  
But loved to shed and suck the Subjects Blood.  Ferd. 
This is the first time that I went astray,  
Yet never did intent you to betray:  
I with Alberlo seemingly combined,  
Only to know the secrets of his mind;  
Which suddenly I would have brought to you,  
To be resolved the better what do.  Infort. 
That's more indeed, than hitherto I knew.  Ferd. 
You may believe what I affirm is true:  Infort. 
Then lose my Ferdinando; let him be  
A faithful Friend and Counsellor to me.  Flau. 
Where is the Sword of Justice? such a King  
Is like a Honey-Bee without a Sting.  
I'd seldom save a Law-Condemned Man,  
For sure the Rogue will hang me if he can.  Enter Belgicus. Belg. 
Alberlo's Men are quartered here hard by;  
By Two's and Three, in Villages they lie.  
Come, let us go, in silence of the Night,  
We'll either kill, or put them all to Flight.  Infort. 
Your News is good, and your Advice is better,  
Than all the Wit in Ferdinando's Letter.  
I ne'er was bred a Coward, nor can kill  
Poor Men asleep, that never did me ill.  Belg. 
There is another thing that we may do;  
(For Soldiers should be Wise and Valiant too)  
We may surprise them in their Beds asleep,  
And afterwards them in close Prison keep,  
As Hostages; which may, in time, augment  
Our Number; and our Enemies prevent  
From being cruel, 'gainst our men, which they  
May Captives take, and in their fury slay.  Flau. 
In policy it were a deadly a crime,  
To slip th' occasion of so fit a time,  
Wherein we may our Enemies o'ercome,  
Without the noise of Trumpet or of Drum.  Inge. 
Then let us go, and with a Warlike 'Slight,  
Confound our Foes, which rob us of our Right.  
'Tis fit we them sleeping Captives take,  
Than that they Hang us up when we're awake.  Ferd. 
I will not condescend to any thing,  
That stains the Reputation of my King;  
It is below His Majesty to be  
Tainted with such Pusillanimity.  
We'll fight them fairly in the open field;  
For, on our side, I'm sure no man will yield.  Infort. 
Let it be so, your counsel I advance;  
I'll let them see some stratagems of France:  
I'll show them Conduct both and Courage too,  
And what Great Spirits, if provoked, can do.  Exeunt Infortunatus, Belgicus, and Flavius. Ingen. 
Thou wicked wretch, that dost contrive our fall, To Ferd.  
Thy cruel counsel will undo us all:  
Thy heart doth always give thy tongue the lie;  
Thou'rt void of Courage, Wit, and Honesty.  
Come, draw that bloody Sword, wherewith you boast  
To Conquer all, and kill Alberlo's Host:  
I'll try your Valour, tho' you seem to be  
A Great Goliath in respect of me.  Ferd. 
I'll neither fight, nor yet contrive your fall,  
But find a way how to outwit you all.  Ingen. 
Pretending Coward, bane of Church and State,  
Because thou wilt not fight, I'll break thy pate:  Striketh him several blows over the head, till the blood runneth down. 
Thou weathercock, thy base deceitful Head  
Will make thy name stink, after thou art dead.  Ferdin. 
Murder, O murder, hold your Sword, else I  
Shall be uncivil, and for fear will die.  Enter Infortunatus and Belgicus in haste. Infort. 
What noise was this I heard?  Ingen. 
No noise at all,  
My Friend did only act the General.  Enter Messenger from Alberlo. Messeng. 
Here I am from Alberlo come to bring  
A Letter to your late Proclaimed King.  Infort. 
Come hither then, for I am he whom you  
Received command to give the Letter too.  He taketh and readeth the Letter. 
Since you are but an Ape of Majesty, I know not by what Title to accost you, being neither King nor Subject: But in short, notwithstanling all our former ties of Friendship, I will not be induced to betray my Trust, and undeserve that Confidence which King Romanus hath placed in me; neither is it proper for me (though it were not too late) to give you any advice, but it had been better for you to have stayed where you was, than to have come over here to put the Nation both to expense and trouble, and work your own overthrow, with the ruin of those poor Men who have joined with you in so desperate an Adventure; who will be reputed and suffer as Traitors, for prosecuting your Treasonable Designs, which really is both the grief and regret of  
Your once real Friend, etc.  Infort. 
And doth Alberlo thus requite me now,  
For all my service done and favours too?  
I was his Friend still in my Father's time,  
To fight now for three Kingdoms is a crime.  
I'll make him feel my Rage, and likewise know,  
That hence I'll prove his everlasting Foe.  
I'll give him Battle soon, in open field,  
And make him feel the Sword that ne'er did yield.  
Go tell your Master, in Segeia plain,  To the Messenger 
I'll give him Battle, though I should be slain:  
To morrow morning,  it be high noon,  
I'll gain or lose great Albion's Royal Crown.  
Go Ferdinando, muster all our Force,  
I shall command the Foot, and you the Horse.  Ferdin. 
I'm set on edge to hear Alberlo boast,  
He talks as we were ruined and lost:  
His saucy Letter either tear or burn,  Execunt Infort. Belgicus, and Flavius. 
In clouds of smoke we'll send him a return.  Messeng. 
Are you Don Ferdinando?  Ferdin. 
I am the Man.  Messeng. 
Then I have here to you,  
A Letter, and a private Paper too,  
I brought them from Alberlo in my Shooe.  Taketh the Letter out of his Shooe. Ferdinando taketh the Letter, and private Paper, and readeth them in haste, and then speaketh to the Messenger. Ferdin. 
Go quickly, tell your Master that I'm still  
His real Friend, and will obey his will.  
Let him draw up his Forces one, and all,  
And meet us, though his army should be small.  
I can find out a Thousand pretty things,  
That will undo and ruin Petty Kings.  
I will do more, not by my Sword but Wit,  
Than I to Ink and Paper will commit.  
Only go tell Alberlo that I will,  
Prove his true Friend, and humble Servant still.  Exit Messen.  

The SCENE Alberlo's Quarters.  Enter Alberlo, and Manlius. Alber. 
I'm vexed that King Infortunatus thought  
That I for Gold, or Greatness would be bought.  
I value not Promotion, whilst I  
Am Great enough, unstained in Loyalty.  
And though Religion now doth lie at stake,  
I'll take no notice, for Romanus sake.  Man. 
By George, and by this Py-bald coat of mine.  His Surpless. 
I rather be a Duke, than a Divine.  
You're great enough, indeed, but by my Mitre,  
I'll prove, in time of War, as good a fighter.  Alb. 
You're a courageous Rampant Churchman here,  
And will on Service fight but in the Rear;  
And scold at distance, as a Cannoneer.  Enter Messenger in haste. Mess. 
I've done your message, and in haste do bring,  
You back another from the startup King,  
To morrow morning,  it be high Noon,  
He'll give you Battle, gain or lose his Crown.  
His Forces are but few, all torn and rend,  
Ill disciplined, his Ammunition's spent.  
But he speaks Great, and will, unless he lie,  
Romanus power, and all his force defy;  
And make your Army like the Dust to fly.  Alb. 
But what did old Don Ferdinando say?  Mess. 
He vows, that he his Master will betray.  Alber. 
May he prove true to me, false to his King.  Manl. 
A Traitor is a necessary thing.  
But once a Knave, Rogue, and a great Trapan,  
Can ne'er be trusted, like an honest man.  Alber. 
If he be Rogue enough, I will him bring,  
Once more in Favour with Romanus King.  
And if his, Treason take a good Effect,  
I from the Hangman's hands shall save his neck.  
But will to morrow,  it be quite light,  
Have all my men in readiness to fight.    

ACT III.  

The SCENE Segeia Plain.  Enter Infortunatus, with Officers and Soldiers, and draw up in one side of the Scene, in Battle array, Armed and ready to fight, Drums beating, Trumpet's sounding, etc. every one having a small green Bough for a Sign. Infort. 
NOW Brother Soldiers, let us rather die  
Upon the spot, than from our Standard fly.  
I fight my Head against a Royal Crown;  
You fight for Greatness, Honour and Renown.  
Since time began, ne'er was a juster cause;  
Than Lives, Religion, Liberty and Laws;  
We fight for Heaven, our Kingdom, Church and State,  
Submitting all we have to Divine Fate.  
Better we stand, and gain the Victory,  
Than run, and by the Hands of Papists die,  
Even those, who to accomplish their Desire,  
Did burn our Ancestors in Smithfield Fire.  
Then let us fight with Courage, Heart and Hand,  
And none give o'er whilst he hath strength to stand.  Enter Alberlo with his Forces, and draw up against Infortunatus 's: every one having a white Handkerchief in his Hat, for a Sign. Alber. 
Now Gentlemen, you see your fatal Doom,  
Either to die, or gain the cause of Rome,  
The Pope, your King Romanus, and his Queen  
(As good a Roman Saint as e'er was seen)  
Will lose their Right, both to our Church and State,  
And be the Object of the Nations hate.  
Rome's cause is lame (I cannot well deny)  
But what it wants, in Money, we'll supply.  
Then, with a brazen Confidence, outdo  
Those men, who (if not slain) will conquer you.  Since whole Files will be troublesome and inconvenient, and several Advancing, Firing, and Fall back, but superfluous, three in a File (the Muskets lined with Pikes) may be enough to show an Emblem of War, and demonstrate, to the curious Spectators, the result of a bloody Fight. Infortun. and Alberlo. 
Make ready.  Both at close Order. 
Kneel, stoop, and stand.  
Present.  
Give Fire.  They on both sides flash their Pans. 
Recover your Arms.  
Fall on, fall on, fall on.  Here the Soldiers on both sides club their Muskets, and present their Pikes, and come to a close Fight. Flavius and Manlius, two warlike Divines, firing the Cannon. Whilst Infortunatus driveth all before him. Romanus 's Guards give ground, whilst others come in to assist them. The Body of Infortunatus 's Army, after a sharp dispute, is broke, several being killed. Infort. 
Where is deceitful Ferdinando now?  
A Rogue, a Coward and Perfidious too.  Infortunatus with his Forces, being beat, marcheth of, making good the Rear: Whilst Alberlo pursueth.  

The SCENE Alba Aula Regalis.  Enter Romanus, Cancellarius, Calamus. Rom. 
I long to hear what news 've from the West,  
I must raise men and send them there in haste:  
I hear Alberlo's beat, and all his Force  
Is put unto the rout, both Foot and Horse.  Calam, 
If it be so, the News will quickly fly,  
But I suppose the Rumour's but a Lie,  
May it prove so, else I shall quickly die.  Enter Messenger in Haste. Mess. 
Great Sir, the Deed is done, the worst is past;  
We have o'ercome your Enemies at last.  
That Myrmidonian Crew is brought to nought,  
Which your Undoing and Confusion sought.  Rom. 
And is it so indeed?  Mess. 
Yes truly so.  Rom. 
And what's become of my late Mortal Foe.  Mess. 
He's fled, but where he is, there's none doth know.  Rom. 
Tho he be fled, he shall be quickly found,  
Dead or alive, if he be on the ground;  
And he that finds him have five thousand pound.  
But for your News, which you have brought me now,  
I will requite, and likewise Knight you too.  Both rewardeth and Knighteth him. Enter Manlius. Manl. 
Great Sir, I'm come in haste, the News to bring,  
That we have beat, and took the Western King,  
With Ferdinando, he in haste did fly  
Into a Field, where both asleep did lie,  
Where they were found, secured and will be here.  Rom. 
Your News was always welcome to mine ear.  
Their Lives are forfeit, they're already Dead;  
And King Infortunate, shall lose his Head.  Manl. 
Don Ferdinando did your Foes betray,  
Through his Deceit Alberlo gained the day.  Roman. 
Then let the Guard that brings the Traitors in,  
Let him escape, a Monument of Sin.  
But how behaved my Soldiers?  Manl. 
Such Men as they no Age could parallel;  
How can those equalled be who all excel?  
Yet not the Red alone Exploits can do,  
This long Black Gown hath done good service too.  
I fired the Ordinance, so that downright,  
Some were cut off, the rest soon put to flight.  Roman. 
I shall not be forgetful to requite,  
Those Loyalists that served me in the fight.  Enter Infortunatus Guarded, his hands bound. Roman. 
Was't you who lately made the World admire  
All your Achievements? then, huffed with desire  
Of Greatness, 'gainst my Person did conspire?  To Infortunatus. 
Was't you who from Mankind such Friendship got?  
Great Credit, Fame and Honour, and what not?  
Invincible! (for you was termed so)  
Tho' now like some mean Beast to th' Axe you go;  
Just as the Lark, that flew so high before,  
That she fell down, and never risen up more.  Infort. 
I am the Man that lately was admired,  
And ' against your Popish Person have conspired;  
Lose but my hands, and you shall quickly see  
The last Exploit of Magnanimity.  Roman. 
I'll see your last breath first, your Person dead,  
I'll deal with you when shorter by the head;  
Take him away, let him in Prison lie,  
Till I appoint the day when he shall die.  Infort. 
Thou Popish Prince, thinkest thou that ever I  
Was daunted? Or that I'm afraid to die?  
I'd rather fall by any Hangman's hand,  
Than live a Subject under thy command.  
I'll die with courage, tho' my Death's unjust;  
Thus the admired Phoenix one day must,  
Drop to her Nest, and there turn into Dust.  The Guards carry him to Prison. Roman. 
I'm grieved to see such Spirits, in their prime,  
Cut down and drop, before the Harvest time.  
I rather he in Battle had been slain,  
Than be exposed now to such disdain:  
I gladly could prolong his wretched Life,  
Were it not for my importuning Wife.  Calam. 
Keep him in Prison, and some pity take  
Upon his person, for great Caesar's sake.  Cancel. 
A King that pardons such a one as he,  
Opens the door to all Conspiracy.  
Your Sacred person never will be safe,  
If you to him a Pardon do vouchsafe.  Manl. 
With expedition, order off his Head;  
Grant him a Pardon after he is dead.  Enter two Ladies, who fall on their knees. Lad. 
Great Sir, we're come, laden with grief and tears,  
To beg admittance to your sacred ears;  
And supplicate your Goodness, that you will  
Forbear Infortunatus' Blood to spill.  
The pearl of Mercy is a precious thing,  
And much to be desired in a King.  
If you grant this, it will renown you more  
Than all the Acts of Grace e'er done before.  
Of all your Subjects you will gain such love,  
That never one will hence a Traitor prove.  Roman. 
What can be done?  Enter Papissa in passion, with a stern countenance. Papis. 
What beg these whining Whores?  Manl. They beg the King 
A suit of wonders, and a monstrous thing:  
To spare the Traitor, but himself is dead,  
If he forgive him, till he lose his Head.  Papis. 
Be gone you Whores: You both deserve to be  
Lashed at the Cart, and pay a Bridewell-fee.  Exeunt Ladies. 
To morrow,  it be quite Twelve a Clock,  
The traitor's Head shall be laid on the Block,  
Where he shall pay for all his former guilt;  
A Rebel's blood is never too soon spilt.  
He shall not have a day more to repent,  
And that's the way his pardon to prevent;  
I'll neither eat, nor drink, nor sleep, nor lie,  
Until the Traitor for his Treason die.  Exeunt omnes.  

The SCENE a Place of Execution.  Enter Infortunatus Guarded, the Executioner following with the Axe. Infort. 
Is this my Funeral Day, wherein I must  
Submit to crawling Worms, and turn to Dust?  
I am more happy in my fatal Doom,  
Than those who live in slavery unto Rome;  
King Romanus cannot shun a fall,  
When God writes MENE TEKEL on the Wall.  Enter Manlius. Man. 
Talk no more Treason, but jay by your hate;  
Confess your Crimes, and then submit to Fate.  Infort. 
What Crimes? Vainglorious Man, dost thou  
With vain pretences, come to plague me now?  
Be gone base Slave, and from my Scaffold fly,  
I'll not be taught by you the way to die;  
If you prate more, I by my Axe of Steel,  
Will make your Face my dying Passion feel.  Man. 
I do persuade you only, if I can,  
To die a Penitent good Christian.  Infort. 
He that doth Preach Death from a Cannon's mouth,  
Doth never cure, and seldom speaks the Truth.  
He that designed to kill me with a Ball,  
Will never raise me up, but make me fall.  
If I have left my Peace to make till now,  
It were a work too hard for me to do.  The Scene openeth, and all the Instruments of Death, with a black Coffin appear. Manl. 
By King Romanus I was hither sent  
Your long delays, and uproars to prevent;  
And see that longed-for Blow, that will divide  
Your Head and Body, and all feuds decide.  Infort. 
Since you to suck my Blood have such desire,  
I'll quickly grant you what you do require.  
Make ready Executioner, for I  
Shall soon be in a readiness to die.  Execut. 
Forgive me that which I must undertake,  
Your Death doth make my panting heart to quake.  Infort. 
And why so much a Coward? 'Tis your place.  Execut. 
I'd rather die than butcher up your Grace.  Infort. 
I do forgive you freely, therefore do  
That which the Laws of Catholics allow.  
Come shed my Blood, and take this for your trouble:  
All Men are Dust, their Life's but a Bubble.  giveth him some reward. Here he stoppeth a little. 
I had the Love of all, of none the Hate,  
Dandled upon the knees of Church and State,  
Now must submit myself to Divine Fate.  Layeth down his Head to the Block. Stoppeth again. 
Forbear your Blow, till my mind fixed be  To the Executioner. 
On Heaven above, and long Eternity.  After a short meditation, he giveth the Executioner a sign, who immediately, instead of his Neck, striketh him in the Shoulder. Execut. 
O cruel stroke! O thrice unhappy Day!  
My trembling hand mistakes the bloody way.  At the next blow the Executioner divideth his Head from his Body, and the Corpse being put in a Coffin are carried away; all present mourning and bewailing his Fate and Tragic end.   

ACT. IU.  

The SCENE Alba Aula Regalis.  Enter King Romanus, Papissa, Cancellarius, and Calamus. Roman. 
THis blow has struck Rebellion dead, and I  
Shall Reign Great Albion's Monarch till I die.  
My Foes are all evanished like a Cloud,  
Dissolved in Air, and perished in their Blood.  
Now, lest my Kingdoms kick, and grudge to be,  
Subjected to my Yoke of Popery,  
I'll keep a standing Army that will bring  
Them to obey me, tho' a Popish King.  
Yet here I'll stop the Current of my rage,  
And bring no Rebels more, upon the Stage.  Calam. 
By force of Arms a King may soon subdue  
A weak, unarmed, untrained, rebellious Crew;  
And afterwards compel them to inherit  
The just reward of their Deserts and Merit.  
Yet tho' the Sword of Justice be a thing,  
That's much to be desired in a King:  
Better his Subjects love him for his Good,  
Than tremble at his shedding Seas of Blood.  
Then pardon those deluded Men that risen  
Against their King, and sided with his Foes.  Rom. 
I'll take your Counsel, for 'tis wise and good,  
I'll live in Peace, and shed no Subjects Blood.  
Yet will in Spite of all my Subjects Noses,  
Promote the Pope, whoever it opposes.  Pap. 
Think you, a drop of base rebellious Blood,  
Can quench my Rage, that doth require a Flood?  
And will incense the Universe, and Sky,  
Unless the Western Country Rebels die.  
No, no, Revenge my Passion doth recruit,  
And every Tree shall hang with human Fruit.  
Go Cancellarius, soon, and imp your Rage  
With all the Furies of this stubborn Age,  
Fly to the West, let your Revenge be hot,  
Disgorge out Halters from your fiery Throat;  
Hang up those Traitors of the Western King,  
And every Rebel to Subjection bring:  
No pity take, but pass a lawless Doom  
On all who did not own the cause of Rome;  
Let Widows tears, and Orphans cries prevail  
No more with you, than Toveser with his Tail;  
Of Human Bodies, Sinews, Blood, and Bone,  
I'll Beacons build as high as Babylon.  Canc. 
I'll smoak in Fury, and perform your Will,  
Whatever you command, be't good or ill:  
I'll take no pity, but possess their Wealth,  
And hang themselves up to the King's Good Health.  Rom. 
Since she must have it so, pray get you gone:  
I'm sure e'er long, she'll pull me from my Throne.  Calam. 
Great Queen, 'tis neither , nor wise,  
To prosecute so bad an Enterprise.  
'Tis strange, to see you in your Fury strive,  
To make your Foes your Greatness to survive.  Pap. 
I'll have my Will, and make the Traitor's fall,  
I'll reign and rule, I'm one against them all.  Exit Canc. Enter Don Ferdinando, and falleth on his Knees. Ferd. 
I'm come to beg Forgiveness of my Crimes,  
That's lately done, and that of older Times,  
If that your Majesty, will pardon me,  
I'll henceforth still a Loyal Subject be.  Rom. 
Hence get thee gone, Thou author of Mischief,  
Thou mad'st the Breach, and cured it to my Grief.  
Go live in shame, no punishment of Time,  
Can equalise a Turncoat Traitor's Crime:  Ferd. 
I am the Man that kept you on your Throne,  
And now you slight, and bid get me gone,  
Your foes I did outwit on your account,  
And this is all to which it doth amount:  
I do deserve to be promoted high,  
And be your greatest Subject till I die.  Rom. 
A Traitor once, will be a Traitor still,  
Turns with the Times, t' accomplish all his Will.  
Hence then thou Villain, Bane of Church and State;  
I love the Treason, but the Traitor hate.  Exeunt Omnes.  

The SCENE Villa Rasa Occidentalis.  Enter Cancellarius, with Four Constables. Canc. 
By King Romanus, I was hither sent,  
Treasons and Insurrections to prevent,  
And to reward those Rebels, who of late,  
Strove to subvert both Kingdom, Church, and State.  Const. 
We in Obedience to our King did seize  
Such Rebels as (their Fancy fond to please)  
Did in Rebellion, rise to overthrow,  
The Government, with King Romanus Foe.  
Speak but the word, we'll bring them here to you,  
That you may judge them, and condemn them too.  Canc. 
We'll hang them first, and then to Trial bring  
Such Traitors as risen up against their King;  
They shall be hurried hence, that others may  
Be made more wary, what to do or say:  
I'll take no pity, nor prolong the time,  
But every one shall suffer for his crime.  
Then bring them here that I may quickly ease  
Papissa's Fury, and Romanus please.  Exeunt Three Constables. Enter Country-maid, in a straw Hat, and falleth upon her knees before Cancellarius. Maid. 
Thrice noble Sir, grave Judge, that's just and true,  
With mournful Tears, I do petition you.  Canc. 
Speak on fair Maid, for certainly I will  
Grant your Request, and your Desire fulfil.  Maid. 
My Sweetheart went to see the Rebel's Host,  
And was imprisoned there till all was lost.  
Now since he was detained by warlike Force,  
And neither served as Soldier, Foot nor Horse,  
Forgive his crime, preserve him safe and sound,  
And you shall have in Gold, Three Hundred pound.  Canc. 
Give me your Gold, and I shall save his Life,  
I hope you'll prove to him a loving Wife.  Maid. 
Here is the Gold, I freely give it you,  Giveth him a Bag of Guineas. 
As you have spoke, I hope you'll likewise do.  Canc. 
Let me be hanged, or else in Prison lie,  
To my last Breath, if your Sweetheart shall die.  Enter Lady Penelope, in an old torn Gown, a Page holding up her Train, in a sorrowful manner, and presenteth a Petition to Cancellarius, which he readeth thus. 
To the Right Honourable, etc.  
The Humble Petition of Sir Roger Ringwode, Knight. Shows,  
THat at the earnest request of my Sweetheart, who is now my Wife, and the Bearer hereof, I was made a Knight of Honour, by King Infortunatus (of Blessed Memory) whom I faithfully served all the time he was in the West, and therefore think it contrary to the nature of Law and Chivalry, to try a Person of Quality with the ordinary Rabble, or hang an honest man with the common crew: Therefore, thought it convenient to advise you to let me have the judgement and sentence of a free Parliament. But if, without any delay, you will be pleased to set me at Liberty, my Lady will give you five pound which is more than what we are worth in the world.  
Which of you do, your Petitioner will be always willing to serve you.  
Sir R. R. Knight.  Canc. 
Where are those pounds that are in number five?  
For which I must preserve a Knight alive.  She giveth him a Bag with Five Pound. 
I'll take the money, for 'tis none of yours,  
And make you an Example to all Whores.  
Your Life is forfeit, and your Husbands too,  
With all the Necks of the Rebellious Crew;  
Which, with Infortunatus did combine,  
To prosecute his desperate design.  
Your name's Penelope, I heard of you,  
And all your pranks of Treason you did do:  
You gave your King a Petticoat of Scarlet,  
To be a Standard, like a boldfaced Harlot.  
Take her away, in Prison let her lie,  The Constable layeth hold on her. 
For Treason she shall with Sir Roger die.  Pen. 
What aid could I to any Host afford,  
Who never could endure to touch a Sword?  
'Tis true I to Infortunatus sold  
A Petticoat, which he repaid in Gold:  
But how can this so great a crime set forth,  
To sell a thing for more than thrice the worth.  Const. 
Pray spare the woman's Life, and let her be  
From her Confinement set at Liberty.  Canc. 
If I her life preserve, I'll make her dance,  
Another Jig than she can learn in France.  Constable leadeth Penelope to the Door, where he leaveth her, and returneth. Enter three Constables, with several Prisoners chained; Sir Roger, in a torn Red Coat, walking foremost: with two women, and the Hangman following after, with his Ropes. Canc. 
Rebels advance, receive your final doom,  
For kicking at the Pope, and Church of Rome:  
And striving to depose your lawful King,  
And these three Nations to confusion bring.  
Come hang them up, we have no need to stay,  
To waste our time in judging such as they.  
Unto the King's good Health hang up a score;  
And to the Queens promote a hundred more.  Maid. 
Did you not take three hundred pounds to save  
My Sweethearts life, and keep him from his Grave.  Caneell. 
I mind no promises; come, hang them all:  
We'll save Expense, make but one Funeral.  
But since, fair Maid. you would preserve his life,  
In hopes to be the young man's wedded Wife;  
When dead, you shall receive, at my command,  
Of his that which you love best, in your hand.  
You Executioner, be sure so do,  
Since I have laid my strict commands on you.  Maid. 
Is this the Judge, by King Romanus sent,  
To do the Nation justice; and prevent  
All Insurrections, and again restore,  
And mend the breach, as it hath been before?  
May Justice seize such Judges; for he lies,  
That calls him just, or good, or grave, or wise.  Kisseth her Sweetheart in Chains, and Exit weeping. Cancel. 
Talk what you will, till you yourself confound,  
I'll bear a little for three hundred pound.  Sir Roger. 
I am a Knight of Honour, and deny  
With this mad Rabble in a Rope to die.  
Come try me first, and after pass my doom;  
And do not hang me for the Cause of Rome.  
Can I come at him, I th' old Rogue would kill;  
And, should I longer live, oppose him still.  Cancel. 
You are a ragged Knight, of Rogues the worst,  
We'll honour you, by hanging you up first:  
You're obstinate, mischievous in your mind,  
And have some wicked enterprise designed.  
We must dispatch you soon with all the Crew,  
Who suddenly shall bid the World adieu.  Sir Rog. 
Shall we not have some time before we die,  
To fit ourselves for long Eternity?  Canc. 
No not one Minute more, for die you shall,  
Now instantly, and none prevent your fall.  
Come hang them up.  Const. 
What shall be done, to these two Women here?  
They say they're guiltless, and from Treason clear.  Canc. 
I say they're guilty whores, already dead:  
This shall be burnt, and that shall lose her Head.  Wom. 
I gave a Man, whom I took for a Saint,  
Money to buy those things which he did want;  
Who proved on Trial, to be one of those  
Whom you repute to be your Mortal Foes:  
And this is all my Crime, for which I must  
Be burnt to ashes, and dissolved in dust.  
Yet rather suffer Death for Charity,  
Than to a Saint a Widow's mite deny.  2 Wom. 
I lodged two Strangers in my House all night,  
And am convinced that it was just and right.  
You term them Rogues, and Rebels of the West,  
Who did the Kingdom, Church and State molest.  
What's that to me? I questioned not at all,  
Their Business, my Kindness was so small.  
Now innocent, to please you I must die,  
Whilst all my crime is Hospitality.  Canc. 
I have no patience, nor can I delay  
Justice, to hear what tattling Traitors say.  
Hang up Sir Roger first, that I may see  
Three Kingdoms from his Treachery set free:  
And after him the common crew shall die,  
Within the twinkling of the Hangman's eye.  
As for these women, after all the Males,  
Are put to Death, than they must low their Sails.  
Make haste, I'll to Romanus drink a Cup,  
Whilst these base Rebels are a hanging up.  The Constables carry the Prisoners, under the Hang, whence a Gibbet turneth out, like a crane, or yards Arm, with a great many men Hanging on't. Enter Widows mourning, and Orphans crying. Canc. 
This prospect doth rejoice my Soul, and I  
Am overjoyed to see those Rebels die,  
I hope that henceforth we shall live at ease;  
Only our Lusts and Appetites to please.  Widows. 
Sad sight to see our Husbands and our Sons  
Hanged up, to please a crew of Friars and of Nuns:  
Hell take them all, and you among the rest,  Pointeth at Canc. 
You're all so bad that none can know the best.  
May King Romanus from his Kingdom fly,  The Gibbet turneth in again, and Exeunt omnes. 
And end his Life within a Monastery.    

ACT V.  

The SCENE Alba Aula Regalis.  Enter Papissa, big Bellied, conveyed by Povicena, and Petrus Impostor. Papissa. 
THE Tempest of my Fury is o'erpast,  
And now my Rage is quenched by this last  
Blast of Revenge, which hath dispersed the Cloud  
Of my Confusion, which fell out in Blood;  
Wherein I swim, yet do not fear to sink;  
More pleased with such a Sea than Meat and Drink.  Povi. 
Came think no more of Rebels, but of things  
Concerning Princes, Emperors, and Kings,  
The time draws nigh, wherein you must prepare,  
To furnish Albion with a Lawful Heir.  Pap. 
I've bore this Pillow, six months on my Womb,  
And must do so, for three Months yet to come:  
And since my Time of Labour doth draw nigh,  
I must augment, and set the Pillow high;  
Rip up the Prince, and put some Cotton in,  
He will not cry although you prick his Skin.  Pulleth the Pillow, from her Womb, and giveth it to the Lady, who stuffeth it with a pound of Cotton. Pointing at Petrus. 
Call in the Midwife, and Petrona too,  
I'll take advice of them how I shall do.  Pou. 
This greasy Pillow is a nasty thing,  
It ne'er will be a good Prince nor a King.  Pap. 
Leave off to jest, 'tis not a fitting time  
Of that which known, would prove a deadly crime.  Enter Midwife, Petrona big with Child, and Petrus Impostor. Pap. 
You know Petrona that I do design,  
To add an Heir unto the Royal line;  
Which must be done by Hocus means, when I  
Shall counterfeit a Labour, and Outcry,  
You must be there, and privately convey  
Your child to me if that it be a Boy,  
When you are brought to Bed; and till you be,  
I'll grunt and groan, that none may question me.  
You are of my Religion you know how,  
That this will all the Heretics o'erthrow;  
That live in Albun, For their Prince shall be,  
Prought up at Rome, and trained in Popery.  
Now what shall I give for your Child, if it  
Should prove a Boy, and all my projects hit.  Pet. 
Five thousand pound the matter will decide,  
My Child's a Boy, it lies in the right side.  Pap. 
Five thousand pound to make your Son a King!  
This is a more than ordinary thing;  
But will not stand what you have said to do,  
If to a constant secrecy you'll vow.  Petron. 
I, by our Lady's Girdle and her Garter,  
Rather than speak one word will die a Martyr.  Petrus. 
That will not do; but whispering to prevent,  
On what you say, you's take the Sacrament.  Papissa. 
Let it be so; for then we'll have some ground,  
Without delay, to pay five thousand Pound.  Pet. 
But what if it should prove a Girl, when she  
Hath got the Sum of Money? where are we?  Pap. 
Tho it prove so, I shall have others there,  
And surely one will serve me for an Heir.  
There is no need the Money to restore;  
For Albion shall supply me still with more,  
'Tis for the use of it, I lay it out,  
And it shall buy me too a Baby-clout,  Povi. 
Here is your Prince, whom you so much adore,  
'Tis weightier by a pound, than 'twas before,  Povioena giveth back the Pillow to the Queen. Queen Papissa taketh the pillow, and layeth it on her Belly, from whence she had taken it. Midw. 
It is too low,  Petro. 
Make it like mine.  Petrus. 
Set it higher, thus.  Midw. 
Now it is too high.  Pou. 
Pull it a little to the right side.  Petrus. 
Let it be so,  Pap. 
Now it is right.  
I hope in time, to bring forth this my Son,  
And end my Labour,  it be begun.  Enter Romanus. Rom. 
What Intrigues here of self-confounding Wit,  
That's good for all, and yet for nothing fit.  Pap. 
Rouse up old Boy, although thy vigour fails,  
I will present thee with a—  Clappeth her hand on her Belly. Rom. 
That Prince will be my more than mor tall Foe,  
And prove  many years my overthrow.  
For when the project is found out I shall,  
With Shame, receive a sad and dismal Fall.  Pap. 
He shall be your adopted Son, and Reign  
As much as he had been by Nature mine:  
He is your artificial Child, and shall,  
In spite of all opposers, have the Wall.  Pet. 
I have a Son, my Husband never got,  
Yet he's he the Father, for he doubts it not:  
Believe he's yours, and your Son that's bought,  
Will have, for whom, in Bed, you never wrought.  Rom. 
To give three Kingdoms, one was never known,  
Unto a Beggar's Child to cheat his own.  Pap. 
I'll have it so, and if you dare deny;  
My Will's a Law, and none shall ask me why.  Petrus. 
Great Sir, You promised once to restore  
The Church of Rome, as she hath been before.  
This is the way, and only this will do,  
A Popish Prince will make three Nations bow.  Rom. 
Monster of Dragons, must I turn, and be  
An ancient Fop of Inhumanity:  
Let it be so, you shall have my consent,  
But blame me not, when after you repent.  Pet. 
You must appoint a solemn day of thanks,  
To pray to Heaven, to cover all our pranks;  
And writ to Rome, to save us from the Lurch,  
To sing Te Deum, in St. Marry's Church.  Pap. 
Were I with Child, I should fear, that the prayer  
Of Protestants, should make me lose mine Heir.  
But now Papissa all their power defies,  
Let them mock Heaven, to blind their own eyes.  Rom. 
I'll call the Clergy, and appoint a Day  
Of Fast, whereon the Heretics may pray,  
That you may not miscarry, but enjoy  
A Popish Prince, their Pulpits to destroy.  Exit Roman. Pap. 
Now I am pleased, for 'tis a famous thing,  
To be the mother of a potent King.  
Come let us a play a Game at Cards for I,  
Am not afraid that I'll in Childbirth die.  Pap. 
We'll play at Beast, for by our wit we shall,  
Confound our Foes, and make them all to fall:  
Persuading old Romanus to a thing,  
That's far below the Candour of a King.  Petr. 
What shall we play for?  Pap. 
Fifty pound a Game.  Petr. 
My Deuce against your Ace.  Pap. 
Out fie shame,  
That you, who must forgive me all my Sin,  
Should proffer thus my Gravity to win.  He shuffleth and dealeth the Cards, and turneth up a Pick Trump. Petrus. 
Come, Picks are Trumph.  Pap. 
Here is a Royal King.  She playeth the King of Hearts. Pet. 
Here I'm above him.  Petrus playeth the Knave above him. Pap. 
That's an unjust thing.  
A royal Prince of his right to bereave,  Papissa stoppeth him from taking the Trick. 
Eclipsed by any Varlet, Clown, or Knave.  
It will not do, but here am I myself.  [playeth the Q. of Diamonds. Petr. 
And here am I above you.  Petrus playeth the Knave above the Queen. Pap. 
This is a thing that I will not allow,  
I tried the Trick, and know it will not do.  
Here is my Ace of Clubs.  Pet. 
Sure I'll have that.  Pap. 
Pray hold your hand, and tell me first for what.  Stoppeth him from taking the Trick. Pet. 
Here is my Trea of Picks, and that is Trumpets.  Pap. 
Pray take it then.  Enter Povioena in haste, and whispereth Queen Papissa in the ear, 
telling her that Six of the Nine women with Child, were in Labour,  
desiring her, in all haste, to take her Labour too, and  
make choice of a Prince, or Royal Heir. Exeunt Papissa & Povioena.  Pet. 
I am the wit of Europe, and what's more,  (aside) 
The man that must the Church of Rome restore:  
I can outwit the wise, in every thing,  
And by the Nose I lead Great Albion's King.  
My policy the Queen with Child begot,  
Now I'm a hatching of a Powder-plot,  
That will destroy the Heretics, and those  
That strive the Roman Interest to oppose.  Enter Romanus, Alberlo, Cancellarius, and Calamus. Cal. 
How now? dost thou thus talk unto thyself?  
Like some Hob-Gobbling Ghost or Fairy-Elf.  
Dost thou invoke the Furies, from below,  
To work thy King Romanus overthrow?  Pet. 
The Queen cries out; and I but pray that she,  
The Mother of a Royal Prince may be;  
A Prince that may on Heretics pass Doom,  
And make the Universe submit to Rome.  Rom. 
Cry out! how so? methinks you're mad indeed,  
Such foolish Fancies in your Brains to breed:  
I am ashamed such idle talk to hear,  
For 'tis too soon, I'm sure by half a year.  Pet. 
She is in Labour, for I heard her cry,  Wipeth his eyes as he were crying. 
And I'm afraid that Queen Papissa die.  Cal. 
Good time, with easy Labour, like a Nun,  
May she enjoy, and for her pains a Son.  Canc. 
A Son that may this stubborn Nation bring  
In more subjection, to a potent King.  The cry of a woman in Labour is heard without. Alb. 
I heard a cry, and judge that it may be,  
The Queen in Labour—  All harken, but hear nothing. Enter Two Bishops in Surplices. Rom. 
Pray who comes here? Two Bishops? get you gone,  
I'm busy now, but you may come anon.  Bish. 
We hear the Queen's in Labour, therefore we  
Should in her privy Chamber present be,  
That if she have a Son we may declare,  
Him Albion's Royal, True and Lawful Heir.  Rom. 
Seditious Apes, you Trumpeters of Treason,  
Be gone, or else I'll send you both to Prison.  
What's your concernment? what should you declare?  
I'm old enough to look to my true Heir.  Exeunt Bishops. Enter Midwife, bearing a Basket, with a naked Baby in it. Midwife. 
Great Sir, I'm come before your eyes to bring,  
A Royal Prince, that may in time, be King  [To King Romanus, whilst Alberlo standeth at a distance. 
Of these three Nations, pious, wise and just;  
After you're Dead, and are dissolved in dust.  
Come welcome him into the world, and see  
If e'er you knew a finer Child than he.  Presenteth her Basket. Rom. 
It is a pretty Child, take him away.  Midw. 
There never was a finer made of clay.  Canc. 
It is a Girl, I vow, pray Midwife look.  Midw. 
I from the number, have the wrong Child took,  
But will bring in another.  Rom. 
Pray thee do.  Midw. 
I can another, and another too:  [Exit Midwife. Cal. 
These foolish women are for nothing fit,  
They will betray the projects of our wit.  Pet. 
I'd rather give ten thousand pound, in Gold,  
Than it were known, the Child were bought and sold.  Alb. 
Your words are dark, I know not what you mean.  
Be bought and sold, and children of the Queen.  Canc. 
He only talks of things, he knows not what,  
Of Monks and Friars, and Nuns, and this and that.  Rom. 
Alberlo, prithee for an hour be gone,  
We have a private project to be done.  Alb. 
How e'er so private, you may tell it me,  
But scorn that I a burden now should be.  Exit Alber. Enter Midwife bearing two Baskets. Midw. 
Here are two Children, take your choice and see,  
Which Child is fit a royal Prince to be.  They take the two Children out of the Basket, and hand them from one to another. Canc. 
This is the fattest.  Rom. 
And the fairest too.  Pet. 
We'll seek no other, for the same will do.  Exit Midwife. 
Let every Roman Catholic now sing  
In Expectation of a Popish King,  
Who will the Church of Rome again renew,  
And all the stiffnecked Heretics subdue.  Rom. 
Call in the Bishops, now, that they may see,  
My Lawful Heir, and Royal Progeny.  Exit Calam. Pet. 
Great Sir, Will you admit them to behold  
Young Innocent? and dare they be so bold,  
With eyes and breath Heretic to profane  
The Prince that will restore our Church again:  
We of their company stand not in need,  
Much less to see, or touch the Royal Seed.  Rom. 
Impostor, should I counselled be by you,  [aside. 
I should myself and all that's mine undo;  
I might look great a while, but must confess,  
I quickly should be Crown, and Kingdomless.  
You hatched the Prince, within your fiery Brain,  
And I'm afraid the plot will prove in vain.  Canc. 
There is no danger, and you need not fear,  
If you'll conceal all from the Subjects ear.  Pet. 
The Child is yours, though Protestants should prate,  
From Clown to Prince, he's Transubstantiate.  Rom. 
I wish it prove so, and that no man may,  
My Hocus Tricks, and juggling Acts betray.  Enter two Bishops, Manlius, and Oxonius, with Calamus Tremeb. Manl. 
 please your Majesty, I hear the Queen  
Hath these two Weeks, in cruel Labour been;  
And now brought forth a Son, as we did pray,  
When we, at Christmas last, kept Holy day,  Rom. 
I have a Son that is both plump and fair,  
And hope will prove Great Albion's Lawful Heir.  Enter Papissa, Povioena, and the Midwife, bearing the young Prince. Rom. 
My wife you're welcome to the world again,  
You have not spent your Labour now in vain.  Pap. 
I was so deadly sick, I tell no story,  
That I was near the Gates of Purgatory.  The King saluteth his Queen Papissa, and every one kisseth her Hand round. 
Here is your Royal Heir which I did bring,  Taketh the Child from the Midwife, and giveth it to the King. 
From Death's dark door, to be Great Albion's King.  
Come hug and hand him all, from one another,  
I shall not run the hazard of another.  Man. 
This Birth strikes Rebels blind, turns to despair,  Manlius taketh him in his Arms. 
Their hopes of Contest for a Royal Heir.  
Sedition sinks down dead, and every Traitor  
Metamorphosed is to another creature.  
Rebellion puts on black, and sadly cries,  
And Turncoat Treason desperately dies.  Oxon. 
Then may he live, and wear his Father's Crown;  Oxonius taketh the Prince in his Arms. 
And gain his Kingdom's Honour and Renown.  
Like Solomon, for wisdom let him be,  
And good Josiah for true piety;  
Not furious, fierce, but merciful and kind;  
Like Jonathan, in constancy of mind:  
Like Moses meek, Majestic in his word,  
To sway the Sceptre, and unsheathe the Sword;  
To cherish Subjects, and promote the good,  
To cut off Rebels, and cast down the proud.  
That all his Subjects may (like Flowers in May)  
With peace and plenty, flourish in his day.  Pap. 
These are two honest Heretics, and I  
Will still be mindful of their Loyalty.  Enter Messenger in haste. Mess. 
Great Sir, I'm come in haste, to let you know,  
Of a more fierce and powerful Western Foe.  
The Golden Prince from Belgium is come o'er,  
With fifty Sail of Ships, and on our shore  
Hath landed Twenty thousand men in Arms,  
Which do surprise us with their fresh alarms.  
Your Peers and Subjects join with him apace,  
And every opposition gives him place.  
He doth affirm and solemnly declare,  
The Royal Prince to be no Lawful Heir,  
But a dark Pillow-Prince, hatched in the night  
By Popish pranks, to cheat him of his right.  
The groaning Nation, and the Subjects cries,  
The Widow's Tears, and Orphans weeping eyes,  
Your banished Subjects, Liberties, and Laws,  
And his own right make up a Lawful Cause,  
Of bloody War; Therefore he vows to fight  
Against your Popish Crew, for his own right.  
Your Soldiers, Subjects, Peers, and all accost  
His coming in, and join unto his Host,  
Which call themselves the Safeguard of the Nation;  
And to confirm all, here's his Declaration.  He giveth Romanus a paper, which he looketh a little on. Rom. 
I will make haste, to muster all my Host;  
I'll fight in person,  my Crown be lost.  
Go Messenger, in haste, and view the Force  
Of all the Prince's Army, Foot and Horse.  
And, when you have done so, return to me,  
And for your pains, you shall rewarded be,  Exit Mess. 
This is the Fruit of your confounded pranks,  Speaketh to Q. Pap. 
For which I own the old Impostor thanks,  
And must confess, not without provocation,  
That now the Prince invaded hath the Nation.  Cal. 
I oft times told thee what would be the end  
Of all the projects which thou didst intent;  
And hadst thou taken but advice of me,  
Thou of this Scene of Sorrow hadst been free;  
Which, now, is like to work thy fatal fall,  
And, in a moment, to undo us all.  Canc. 
Promotion is the Curse of men, and I  
Am so astonished that I fear to die.  Pet. 
I'm so cast down and terrified in mind,  
That I'm afraid a Remedy to find.  Pap. 
Shall I who have in so great splendour been,  
Preferred to be Great Albion's Royal Queen,  
Be forced to live in shame, and great disdain,  
And steer my course to Italy again.  
I can but wring my hands, and stamp and stare,  
And, half distracted, tear my curled hair.  Rom. 
And why so much afraid? I question not  
To serve him as I did the R—  
I'll go, with speed, an army to provide,  
Which will all quarrels with the Sword decide:  Calam. 
I will, in spite of every former Crime,  
Turn to a State Hermaphrodite of Time.  
I'll whine and wheedle, side with every thing,  
That will my projects to perfection bring:  
Yet, come what will, I shall until I die  
Be sure to serve your Sovereign Majesty.  Exit Calamus. Canc. 
I've so behaved myself, that I shall die,  
If catched; and now can neither stay or fly;  
I am so terrified and stung  Gild  
Of Villainies, and Blood that I have spilt:  
My Brains distracted, Fear doth me possess,  
My Joints do tremble for my Wickedness.  Petr. 
I will return to Rome, from whence I came,  
And strive to set all Europe in a flame,  
Yet Albion, though I should contrive a Plot,  
Will slight my Wits, and find an Antidote.  Enter Messenger in haste. Mess. 
I have surveyed and viewed the Western Host,  
And now three Kingdoms, with your Crowns, are lost.  
Your Guards, with all your Military Force,  
Of Men and Arms, of Infantry and Horse,  
Have joined themselves unto your mortal Foes,  
Whose power the Church of Rome cannot oppose.  
The War is ended,  it be begun,  
And there is now no Remedy but, Run.  Drum's beaten and Trumpet's sound without. 
The Enemy's at hand, therefore be gone,  
Preserve yourself, if you should lose your Throne.  Rom. 
He'll take the projects, which the Romish Crew  
Have, by their Conjurations, forced me to.  
Now I must steer my Course, I know not where,  
And all is long of this your Royal Heir.  Pap. 
I'll straight to Gallia, and use all my Arts,  
Wherewith I use to conquer greatest Hearts;  
I'll try them all, and see what power I have,  
To make that Generous Monarch's heart my Slave.  
And if in this the Fates will be but kind,  
As with this Prince I may such favour find,  
To grant but power sufficient to subdue  
This Fortunate, and too Victorious Foe;  
They quickly then shall my resentments see,  
And find what 'tis to injure mighty me.  
I'll bring such Monsters, as shall make a Flood  
Of English Heretics, and Rebels Blood.  Pet. 
May Heaven be kind, and your endeavours bless,  
Whilst I invoke the Gods for your success.  Rom. 
When your kind Fate to Gallia shall you bring,  
My best Respects to the Most Christian King;  
Tell him he little doth deserve that Name;  
And also what a most prodigious shame  
'Twill be, unto the Faith he doth profess,  
If he my Grievances don't soon redress:  
I, who to th' brink of wretchedneiss am come,  
And all for being true to th' Church of Rome.  
The Enemy's at hand, Papissa, go,  
And get but force to oppose this Mighty Foe,  
We'll enter Albion, and such spoil will make  
Shall cause the proudest of their hearts to ache;  
We then shall our Revenge most sweetly taste,  
We'll Ravage, Plunder, Burn, Destroy, lay Waste,  
And not a Rebel leave alive at last.  The Queen tieth the Prince on Father Petrus 's back, and all run out in great haste.   
FINIS.   

Epilogue.  
THe Banquet's o'er, and we have fed your senses  
With Blood & Wounds, & Catholic pretences.  
We show you, in this more than sumptuous Feast,  
The Rise and Downfall of the Roman Beast.  
With Dishes we your Appetite have fed,  
Such as Ashuerus Table never had,  
When Symmachus had set before his eye  
A Fish's head, affrighted, he did fly  
From it: For he did take it for the head  
Of Theodorick, whom he murdered:  
Even so this Feast, presented to your eye,  
Was Murder, Bloodshed and Phlebotomy;  
With Pride, Promotion, Madness, and what not,  
That can outdo a Super-treason Plot.  
Yet, as in Summer, every Honey-bee  
Sucks sweet from every object which they see,  
The wise and prudent may reap what is good,  
From this our Feast, and after chew the Cud;  
And attribute the end of humane things  
To Providence, and not to Powerful Kings.  
But lest your Dishes of Revenge and Spite.  
Should not have relished with each appetite,  
To please you, we a Voider did afford,  
That did remove your Dishes by the Sword;  
A Potent, Pious Prince, who by his Might,  
Restored three Kingdoms to their former Right.  
In fine then, gentlemans, you're welcome all;  
Our will is good, although the Feast be small:  
And if by chance we meet another day,  
We'll treat you with a more delicious Play.