Loves Victory: A tragicomedy.  
BY WILLIAM Chamberlain Of Shaftsbury in the County of Dorset.  

— Odiumque perit,  
Cum jussit amor, veteres cedunt  
Ignibus irae—   
LONDON; Printed by E. Cotes, and are to be sold by Robert Clavell at the Stags-head near St. Gregory's Church in St. Pauls-church-yard. 1658.   

To the Right Worshipful Sir WILLIAM PORTMAN, Baronet.  
SIR,  
ERe diverted by more serious Studies, which the benefit of an excellent Education espoused to a natural ingenuity, will soon render the rathe-ripe fruits of Your pregnant Wit, I hope it will in me appear no unbecoming boldness, whilst your youth claims the privilege of Recreations, to present you with this, which though trivial in itself, improved by your acceptance, may become worthy the view of others; who beholding your Name beautify its front, may give it as fair an esteem as if they saw it adorned with all the advantages of the public Stage; which since this rigid Age hath silenced,( if I may be so happy to obtain) I shall value your single acceptance beyond the loud applause of a theatre. If the Reading afford you but as many minutes as the Composure did me hours of retired content, I shall think these low delights of youthful fancy worthy the esteem of my maturer thoughts, to which the burdens of employment ha● now added( if not more Judgement▪ yet more Solidity. Nor shall I repent to have roused it from its so long lying dormant, it being then in the embryo, when with us, War first made the present Age unhappy, so may have something to excuse the roughness of its style▪ its production being whilst I sacrifice to Minerva in the Temple of Mars Deities, which we have fair prognostics may be both propitio 〈…〉 future Achievements; for which, together with an affluence of all other perfections, shall ever be sacrificed the hearty prayers of  
SIR, Your Devoted Servant William Chamberlain.   

To the Reader.  

SInce by this active ageed hath been thought best  
With their grave earnest to crush Plots in jest;  
The mourning Stage being silent, justly I  
May change a Prologue to apology;  
That so in private each Spectator may  
Singly receive his welcome to a Play.   

But here expect no parasite, that sin  
Justly condemned the Stage, though since't hath been  
Hugged by pretence with such hot zeal, as pickles  
Mad Sectaries for midnight Conventicles.  
Yet though I bring no Opiate to allay  
Thy feverish guilt, nor tune my Muse to play  
Thy soul into a lethargy, here lies  
No satire, less, hid in some sins disguise,  
Which shouldst thou but seem startled at, 'twould be  
An argument of some affinity  
Betwixt thy thoughts and that. They foolish hate  
That rails at those, raised by whatever fate  
Above their wishes, doth but vainly show  
By their own wounds what they intend their foe;  
Whilst graver wits, who by afflictions thrive,  
Make Balm of what was meant a corrosive.   

That sickly genius whom no lines can please  
But those that rail their Author to disease,  
May still frown here; For know, I durst not write  
An age's ruin in an hours delight.  
Though this imperfect embryo was begot  
Whilst Clamorous wars wild fury was so hot  
It dried up Helicon, and in distress  
Forced the sad Muses to a wilderness,  
Which enraged man( that worst of Beasts) had made  
A Scene of blood, where guilty hands invade  
Poor trembling innocence, 'twas brought to light  
Unlike that ghastly Parent, since none fight  
Within these lists, but such as only prove  
Their Valour where the Victory is Love.    

A Catalogue of the Actors.  

The King of Sicilia.  
Oroandes General of his Army.  
Zannazarro a young Lord in Rebellion.  
Arratus an old Courtier.  
Carlo a rich Citizen.  
Vanlore a Noble Gentleman, but of a low fortune.  
Buffonie a simple Clown, Nephew to Arratus.  
Gudgeon his man.  
Creon and Lewcippus two cheats.  
Heroina Princess of Regium Mistress to the King.  
Glorianda Princess of Cyprus Mistress to Zannazarro.  
Eurione Sister to Zannazarro Mistress to Oroandes.  
Theocrine Daughter Carlo Mistress to Van lore.  
The Father and Mother 〈◊〉 Buffonie, Priests, soldiers, and Attendants.    

Loves Victory.  

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.  A Funeral march: A Goffin born over the Stage. Oroandes and his followers in mourning. Ex. Enter Cleon and Lewcippus. Cre. 
THis is the place, is't not Lewcippus?  Lew. 
The same, nor will our under-officer delay us long.  Cre. 
If this Goose prove not well feathered, our hopes  
Are blown up: our only happiness is, we have our  
Limbs to help us, whilst others must halt out their  
Wants in a Hospital.  Lew. 
Yes, and have their pensions paid them in rotten  
Tobacco, and carved bonelace sticks for bread.  Cre. 
Thou art in the right, for the better rewards are  
Reserved for the decaled sons o'th' shop, or decaled  
Placket squires, fellows that dare not not look in a glas●  
For fear they they should be frighted with the ruins  
Of a nose.  Lew. 
Well, it was our wisdom not to fancy this  
Grinning honour, in the mean time I would sell  
My forged Commission for a bankrupts bill of exchange.  Cre. 
And I my buff coat for a freeze jerkin, and all  
My airy honours for the greasy steam of a cook's shop.  Lew. 
Here he comes Enter a sergeant and Buffonie.  
Like the captive Knight of the golden Image;  
Don dell P●oebo— welcome.  Ser. 
Fie— Fie— A soldier and tears!  Buf. 
Dost lie— that dost, I'm no Zodier,  
Cha been better bred then so.  Lew. 
'Twas thy own proffer friend.  Buf. 
Yes, but when I wonder? when chad took a pot too much at market, and was a little tox●cated.  Cre. 
Thou shalt have a sober time of repentance:  
S. death! what's here? Enter Buf mother followed by her husband and Gudgeon.  
An Incubus●  Lew. 
Or else a fury frighted out of her wits.  Cre. 
She wants but a periwig of Snakes to lead the dance of Hobgoblins.  Mot. 
Why Whore, be these Rogues here? I have been  
Frighted out of my naked bed to follow them:  
What dost thou amongst these Varlets?  
Come home— come home you whoreson lout.  Hus. 
Nay wife, good wife, do not anger the worshipful Captains.  Mot. 
Pew, you dotard, dost think I will be frighted out of my Boy, ti● sign thou hast but small share in the begetting of him, that thou canst so willingly part with him—  Cre. 
Sergeant away with him, how vermin d'ye bark?  Lew. 
To the guard with him, and lay him neck and heels; S. death— affronted!  Fa. 
Captain— I beseech your honourable worship.  Lew. 
What sayst old Cropshin?  Cre. 
Go hire thy Beldame a house in a Churchyard,  
That when she hath bequeathed her garments to a Pape 〈…〉  
She may walk there to fright Sextons.  Fa. 
Good Sir bear with her, for when she is up she is  
A devil in Carrion, but I will disburse here;  
Here is vorty old Angels, and a good vitty fellow  
For a supply—  Mot. 
How!— part with thy gold! why the palsy hath shaken thy wit out at thy nostrils: must Angels fly to fetch him back? I'll do't without, or I'll scratch their eyes out.  Cre. 
Peace good matron, and go water the furrows of thy cheeks in ●●ars, 'twill look most religiously.  Lew. 
Thou hast been so long hung to roof, th' 〈…〉  
O●herwise thou wilt choke the worms,  
And in the next age be sold for mummy.  Bu. 
I took my Mother to be good for nothing.  Lew. 
Old fellow we incline to pity thee, but the supply looks something wretchedly, there must be some additional advance.  Fa. 
We will not stumble at that.  Cre. 
Didst ever handle arms friend? Sergeant, try him.  Gud. 
Chwas ne'er thus hampered before, I'm afeard tont come ofe.  Ser. 
Come, handle your arms.  Gud. 
Ich amt well skilled in these guns, chave seen them at monster set it a vier with the end of a cord, sure these snipper snappers be a new fashion, beant they?  Cre. 
Ne'er fear, there's no hurt. The powd●r fi●ing he 〈◊〉.  Enter Vanlore disguised. Van. 
Save you Gentlemen;  
Lives there one Cosmo Buffonie here?  Fa. 
I am the man you spy for friend, vor want of a better.  Buf. 
Look Gudgeon— what spark is that?  Van. 
I have a letter from the Lord Arratus;  
What it concerns, the contents will inform you.  Fat. 
Pray master Captain read it, we beant book learned.  Mot. 
No— whose fault was that you old knave, the Boy had dossety enough and thou wouldst ha put him too't.  Lew. 
He here sends you word how he desires to have his Nephew your Son sent forthwith to Syracuse, for he intend● to adopt him his Heir.  Mot. 
How! why than we are made for ever? Gudgeon thou goest too.  Van. 
Creon and Lewcippus, the city cheats. Van. aside.  Cre. 
But hear, you friends, you first must disengage from us.  Van. 
How stands he Sir engaged to you?  Lew. 
How— fellow, go meddle with your horse comb saucy groom: Serjeant— away with him.  Fat. 
Nay— worshipful Captain— I will disburse.  Van. 
For what? keep up your money, who dares touch him?  Cre. 
So bold, my livery creature? Il● make thee know thou'lt't not i'th' stable, where thou command'st o'er horse boys; Unhand him, or by heaven—  Van. 
What will you do Sir? do' think I fear plundered Coats and big looks? Strikes up his heels and disarms him whilst Creo  Lew. 
Devils and fiends,  
Shall I endure this!  Van. 
Yes, and this too. Kicks kin  Van. 
Come, your ransom is paid.  Fa. 
Blessings on your heart, come son Buff.  Exeunt, Om. A volley of shot within, the mourners enter, a trumpet sounds, a herald reads Oroandes Com. Om. 
Heaven's crown the actions with success!  Oro. 

My gratitude divides  
Itself amongst you all, the only mean  
Of recompense, until some welcome beam  
Of opportunity shall light my wishes  
To a requital of your early loves.   

But now the minutes languish in sad haste,  
And from the sad performance of these duties  
To our deceased General we must  
Remain griefs debtors, whilst we sati●fie  
Importunate revenge. You dismal badges  
Of their despair, tell us we have an enemy  
Whose resolutions are as high and bloody,  
As their condition sad, if they refuse  
This last act of an injured Princes mercy.   A parley sounded: Enter as on the walls Zannazarro and attendants. Zan. 
What means this hasty summons? is your anger  
So swift in motion, that it not admits  
Due rites unto the dead? The doleful hours  
In which we mourned our father's funerals  
Hath scarce left seals on the records of time.  
Yet though the grief sit heavy on our souls,  
It's not of kin to fear, we dare to draw  
Our swords ere we have wiped our eyes, and in  
A peal of Canons, more harmonious than  
The solemn Bell, thunder his funeral peal.  Oro. 

'tis pity a resolve thus fortified  
With valour, should unravel all its glory  
In an unlawful cause. This desperation  
Valours blind hieroglyphic, wherein nought  
Appears but monsters only, serves to fright  
Deluded fancy from supreme commands.   

Oh do not then precipitate a family  
Which may outlive approaching ruin, to  
Stand the supporters of this State, when those  
That prop it now, are sunk with weight of age.   

Nobility, like heavens bright Planets, waits  
Upon the Sun of Majesty, whilst none  
But Comets drop from their usurped spheres.   

Then rectify your reason, and let's now  
Conclude this war without a greater flux  
Of blood than is already spent, that so  
Rebellion may not add more sables to  
What mercy yet may pierce.   Zan. 

You might have spared this labour, though we lost  
The strongest citadel of all our hopes  
In our dear father's death, those high resolves▪  
He dying left as legacies to us  
Are so much cherished, that should I consent  
To stifle those brave flames, his angry ghost  
Roused from the silence of a dormitory,  
Would reassume its seat to chide my floath.   

drop reg've only with me those few wounded men  
Which from the last loud stroke of war escaped  
With life, not health, to serve me; yet though their arms  
Grown weak with the late frequent loss of blood,  
Sell not our lives at honour's highest rate,  
We'll fall no humble sacrifice to death.   Oro. 
I'm sorry Sir,  
That my advice, proceeding from the love  
I bear your worth, hath missed its wished for ends.  
— farewell— All happiness  
But that which waits on victory attend you.  Zan. 
The like to thee brave soul, since part we must;  
When next we meet, 'twill be in blood and dust.  Ex. from below: an Alarm within, at which Ex. hastily from above. Whilst the battle continues, the stage hung with lights and pictures represents a Temple. Enter Eurione, a book in her hand, she having kneeled a while, Ent. a Lady hastily. Lady. 
— Oh Madam!— whither will you fly?  
The day is lost, your noble brother taken,  
Wars furious goddess, fierce Enyo stands  
Over your battered gates, and wheeling round  
A dropping pine about her bloody tresses  
●ends with its dismal light an entrance to  
The ministers of death, the unclaspt power  
Of the rude soldier, like a deluge broke  
O'er a rich field, the last and fatal blow  
Is giving, all our dying hopes. Th' battlements  
Sweat oft in flames, whilst loud confusion fills  
The enlightened air with outcries, and our shricks  
Choked in the embryo of our prayers can find  
No way to angry heaven: the infant dies  
Whilst in the po●ch of life, and nature's webs  
Decayed by age, are rent from out the the looms.  
Immaculate Virgins to each touch betrayed  
Lie in a tembling agony, their beauties  
Like a rich Mine lavished to vulgar hands,  
The injured prize of every impious slave.  Eur. 
Weep not my dear companion, thou that hast sha●'d  
A like with me in every change of fortune,  
If fate ordains this the Catastrophe  
Of all those tragic scenes, which these late wars  
Made us unwilling, though sad actors in,  
To us our virgin innocence shall be  
Protection safer than the united swords  
Of earth's most powerful monarchs.  Outcries within. Lad. 
Oh they are entering, let's fly dear Madam.  Eur. 
Whither? when slaughter runs through all  
What place can give protection unto us? Ex. Lad.  En. Oroandes wounded, a Surgeon. Oro. 
To thy charge, my hurt's but slight.  Sur. 
Yet will deserve your care Sir. Ex. Sur.  Oro. 
Ha! what place is this!  
Hung round with stately pictures, starred with lights!  
With what an awful majesty it looks!  
— sure it enshrines some deity— what's she?  
— with such a face  
Troy's tutelary angel looked, when all  
Her crown of turrets dropped their flaming heads.  Eur. knelt to the altar. Eur. 
If those blessed spirits, which freed from all the crimes  
Cast on them by mortality, and made  
Fit for celestial palaces, retain  
A thought of us, as else our faith deceives us,  
Oh let the white soul of some sainted Virgin  
Descend for my protection.  She speaks. He draws nearer. She rising from the Altar knelt to him. Eu. 
What ere thou art that in this dreadful shape  
Com'st to profane this hallowed place with blood,  
If in your breast there dwell a human thought  
Telling you that a woman was your mother,  
For her sake pity a distressed Virgin.  
Not for my life I beg, but only that  
My honour kept unblemished you would ease  
Me of that tedious burden.  Oroandes stands a while silent, let's fall his sword. Oro. 
A chilling frost unnerves my joints, sure this is  
Divinity or magic that hath thus  
Deposed my reason to let rebel passion  
Triumph i'th' injured throne— Rise Lady  
— there's a religious ice about my heart  
That chains up all my fury— I shall rather  
Slight the commands of an injured Prince,  
Then violate aught which the dictates of  
My soul proclaims for sacred.  Eur. 
Oh lead me then to some polluted place  
That's grown drunk with blood, and there let mine  
Increase the purple deluge rather than  
Let life add yet more burdens to my soul.  
— I shall not always be protected by  
This places sanctity; or if I were,  
Find few of so much virtue to be with  
Religious reverence awed.  Oro. 
Do not, dear soul,  
Mistrust the gentle smiles of fate, my power  
Secures you from all future violence  
Which in the loudest storm of fury can  
Fall from the steepest precipice of rage.  Zannazarro retreating, soldier▪ laying at him. Eur. 
Oh my dear brother.  Soul. 
Kill— kill the gaudy whore.  Oro. 

Hold— I command you hold:  
This is a place too sacred to be made  
A scene for such a bloody act, and would  
Style what our cause calls justice sacrilege,  
Heaven being itself profaned in the abuse  
Of what its power for sanctity devotes.   

His wounds seem large enough already to  
Let life fly out through all the guards of nature;  
Or if they are not, to preserve him will  
Be but the glimmering of a Taper ere  
Blown out by the formalities of Law.  
— Hear— search his wounds, and let it be your charge  
To use all diligence in their recovery.   

Sound a retreat, and you, that bear command  
See the rude soldier's violence be drawn  
Within the bounds of mercy. Victories stained  
With too much blood are blessings but profaned.   Ex. Zanna. and soldiers, ma. Oroan. and Eur. 

Do not my dear too much afflict thyself,  
Each tear you shed drops from my heart in blood.  
— I'm conquered in this victory, and become  
A captive to my prisoner. Come Lady, dare you trust  
Yourself to my protection, your guardian Angel  
Robbed in virginity, is not whiter than  
Those thoughts which clothe my soul when they reflect  
On so much suffering virtue. Were my lust  
Hot as the womb of Aetna, yet there lies  
A secret magic in this touch to cool  
Those most intemperate fires. The morning pearls  
Dropped in the lilies spotless bosom, are  
Less chastely cool, ere the meridian Sun  
Hath kissed them into heat; yet since the ice  
Of Anchorites by religious flames may be  
Warmed into holy Calentures, Oh give  
My passions leave to move within the orb  
Of your celestial beauty, whilst no line  
Tends 〈◊〉 the centre of a thought unchaste.   Eur. 

Alas my Lord— this is  
No time to play with Love( that child of peace)  
When war and death fit by and hold the stakes.   

The impious mirth of the bold Atheist, that  
Riots at funerals, and undaunted sits  
Whilst heaven in plagues drops vengeance round about him,  
Unvests his soul of no more modesty  
Than such wild love would mine, whose growth must needs  
Be fatal when sown in a field of blood.  
— Yet I confess—  
If heaven did ere lend balm to cure a grief  
So vast as mine, even whilst the orifice  
Was warm with blood, this cordial favour would  
Perform the cure: but I am lost to all  
The future hopes of dull mortality;  
The habitation of my soul is grown  
Too great a burden, since so often wet  
With miseries ere to be born with ease.   Oro. 
If all my service to my Prince hath merited  
Aught worth requital, he must show it in  
Mercy to you, or by a blacker doom  
Shake my obedience off. But only grant  
Me thus much satisfaction, that when time  
Hath purged your griefs malignity, and for  
These thorns strewed the soft roses of content  
Within your Virgin bosom, that you would  
With pity then on my afflictions look.  Eur. 
I were ungrateful else: Know noble Sir,  
I so much prize your virtues, that if ere  
My frowning stars smile on my fate again,  
Their powerfulest influence shall reflect on you  
In so much thankful gratitude, you shall  
Acknowledge it the eldest child of love.  Oro. 
My joy grows equal with my wishes; Come Let's in my dear, and see thy wounded brother.  Ex. Oro. and yew Ent. Vanlore alone. Van. 

My plot hath thrived thus far, I have discovered  
A rival in my love to Theocrine— but such a one  
That nature in such haste did huddle up,  
She gave him scarce the Characters of man.   

How purblind is the world, that such a monster  
In a few dirty acres swaddled, must  
Be mounted in opinions empty scale,  
Above the noblest virtues that adorn●  
Souls that make worth their centre, and to that  
Draw all the lines of action! Worn with age  
And wounds to a neglected skeleton  
The noble soldier sits, whilst in his Cell  
The Scholar stews his Catholic brains for food.  
The Traveller returned, and poor may go  
A second pilgrimage to farmer's doors, or end  
His journey in a Hospital: few being  
So generous to relieve where virtue doth  
Necessitate to crave. Harsh poverty,  
That moth which frets the sacred robe of wit,  
Thousands of noble spirits blunts, that else  
Had spun rich threads of fancy from their brain.   

But they are souls too much sublimed to thrive  
Amongst those crudities of men, that fill  
The nauseous stomach of the times with flesh  
Unsalted with the active souls of men.   

But I'm no satire, rather now possessed  
With Loves more gentle spirit, which hath charmed  
Me into strangs attempts; assist me Fate;  
Few days will ruin or advance my state. Ex.   Soldiers pass the Stage, Creon and Lew. dragging in Buff. and Gud. in new clothes. Cre. 
Nay, now you are hampered Rogues: disobey authority!  Bu. 
— Oh Gudgeon— they wool dirt our new clothers.  Lew. 
Lie close you vermin. They bind them.  Gud. 
I ha not known hop Monday at this time o'th' year.  Bu. 
Stand upon thy guard page. They gag them.  Cre. 
Gape Gudgeon— so, now do not talk  
Yourselves hoarse, this heavy carriage  
Shall not trouble you. Pick their pockets.  Lew. 
Farewell— farewel— do not defile your lodging. Ex.  Enter some straggling soldiers with Wenches. Wen. 
— A prize— a prize my lads;  
How came you hither Sirrah— ha?  Bu. 
Oh— Oh— Oh!  Wen. 
What canst not speak, the rogues are gagged.  1. Sou. 
Alas poor fellows— help unbind them  Wen. 
Hang them vagabond rogues, they are some rich boars I'll warrant them, that have abused poor soldiers:— here puny— change thy hat and thy sword.  2. Sou. 
These are some relics of their grandfather's  
Blades that have been tried in the first Punic war;  
Here, shalt have mine in exchange— and liberty to boot.  Wen. 
Nay, no haste to be gone Sir, this Coat will sell  
To the next country Landlord— yet again,  
These Boots will serve an honester man.  1. Sou. 
Nay, thou art unmerciful—  Wen. 
Marry gip you milksop fool, thou wert best  
Go barefoot so thy conscience wear socks; why man,  
This is the farmers eldest whelp, coupled with  
A carter, they know how to swaddle their legs  
In straw— do you not boobies—  Buf. 
Yes— forsooth Mistress.  Wen. 
Nay, I should teach you manners, had I the tutoring of you. Ex. soldiers and Wenches.  Enter Zannazarro and Eurione. Eur. 
Do not, Brother, venture too boldly on this piercing air.  Surg. 
It's dangerous; Sir, and may recall your fever.  Zan. 

I thank your care, but owe so much unto  
Your art, that my recovered spirits tell me  
They are strong enough to struggle with disease,  
Yet I'll not long tempt danger, only a while  
Sit and behold you greedy flames convert  
My father's palace to his funeral pile.   

— Oh Eurione, Ex. Surg.  
To what sad period drives our hasty fate!  
We— we of all our house remain to be  
The mockery of fortune. Poor girl— we must  
Ere long be led to grace the triumphs of  
A lawreled conqueror, thorough the throng  
Of the insulting multitude, whose mirth  
Our miseries will be, from thence be haled  
To ignominious death, and far removed  
From the famed urns of our dead ancestors,  
With thieves and murderers mix our injured dust.   

In all their Annals, our wronged names shall be  
Branded with ignominious Epithets.   

Our guardian Angels vainly did protect us  
Beyond the ruins of our family;  
That shower of blood dropped precious balm, compared  
With those prodigious ills that fall in this.   

— Why did I suffer all those channels to  
Be stopped that drained the crimson sea of life?  
Were not my hands chained in my love to thee,  
I would again rend open each orifice  
And set those conduits going, which are now  
Locked in restrictive medicines.   Eur. 

Do not Brother  
Unthrone thy soul with this unmanly passion,  
Prop with disdain, that falling pyramid  
Which in the lowest ebb of fortune may  
Sit high as Sceptred Kings, and by the strength  
Of passive fortitude repel the beams  
Of our malignant stars, though darted down  
With barbed vengeance on us. Those calm souls  
Feel not the war of fierce affliction, which  
Preserves heaven's peace within their quiet breasts.  
The bitterest pills earth steeps in gall, are but  
That healthful physic, which the sickly mind  
Distastes, but languishes without into  
A swift consumption of its former virtues.   

I know thy breast filled with too great a spirit  
To let in such ignoble guests as fear.  
And shouldest thou nurse a meaner thought of me,  
'Twould strike a blush upon the ashes of  
Our noble Mother, which could ne'er conceive  
So mean a thing in great Z●ranzas bed.   Zan. 
Now thou art sister to the noblest thoughts  
My soul extracts from weak humanity.  
—▪ This balm hath cured all mine internal wounds.  Eur. 
Then prithee take a care not to offend thy other.  Zan. 
My honoured guardian— Enter Oroan.  Oro. 
Brave Zannazarro, I'm glad to see the blood  
Sit in such healthful symptoms on thy cheeks,  
My Prince's mandates now enforcing me  
Unto a swift removal— Fair Eurione  
I have more offerings here to pay, but yes  
Am too unsanctified.  Eur. 
Those vows, my Lord, my death will soon discharge.  Oro. 
I am commanded by a power above me;  
But should my victory dip her laurels in  
Your bloods, my own should wash the ●incture off,  
And with your Cypress wreathe their withered branches.  
But fairer hopes in my thoughts busy wars,  
Support the ruins of my falling stars.   

Actus Secundus.  Enter Creon and Lewcippus, one in the habit of a soldier, the other of a Dancing master. Cre. 
'Sdeath! thou lookest as if thou wert newly unfettered Lewcippus, since thou skipest into this Dancing suit, but methinks thy legs are hardly fine enough for thy profession. Canst caper?— Let's see.  Lew. 
As well as thou canst toss a pike my  
Valiant Hector— thou walkest in such state  
As if thou comest crowned from Olympus;  
Or for a reward of thy va●or wert to be  
Elected King of the Romans.  Cro. 
No, a Knight of Malta would serve the turn▪  
And that if our design prosper, I may bid fair for.  Lew. 
We shall no more need to march in back-lanes to shun catchpoles— hist— here comes the old Courtier and new Lord—  Enter Arratus Ar. 
Save you noble Gallants, and my very Good Friends.  Cre. 
That he never saw before.  Ar. 
Let the word of a Gentleman confirm you welcome.  Lew. 
We had rather have the deeds.  Ar. 

You shall be both respectively entertained.  
In your several functions.  
For thou my nimble Lad—  
We'll dance levaltoes lighter than the air  
When it cuts capers from the mountains tops.  
My Nephew's hours of mirthful recreation  
Shall by thy lighter genius be dispo●'d.   

But there is valour in the Boy that will  
I doubt disdain the sport, I know his humour  
If he be of the right blood of the Buffonies,  
He will be all for tournaments, and fighting duels  
— I will seem not to like it, but it was my  
Own humour when I was young, I believe the  
Country hath bestowed education on him in that kind▪  
According to his natural worth—  
— Wherefore— my noble Corydon—   Cre. 
I am no Shepherd Sir.  Ar. 
I cry thee mercy, my brave Herculean soul,  
I mean, what d'ye call them▪— the followers of  
The sullen▪ Greek that would not fight for the loss of his wench.  Lew. 
Achilles' and his Myrmidons.  Ar. 
Thou hast hit it— thou hast hit it  
My single soled Rascal, I mean the Myrmidons:  
Pox on't! I forget these hard names; truth is,  
I hold it beneath a man of quality to spend  
His time among moth-eaten books, and leave the  
More generous recreation of Dogs and hawks; some  
Shreds of Poetry picked up among the scoundrel  
Players are all that I make use of;  
Yet I honour men of Art and Gallantry.  Cre. 
'tis not my use to boast my own perfections,  
drop reg've seen some petty portions of the world,  
Served under Caesar in the British wars,  
Assisted Crassus in the Parthian Conquest,  
Been with Porsenna at the siege of Rome,  
With Xerxes when his Army swallowed Greece,  
And fought for Pompey in Pharsalla's field,  
But my last piece of service was to fight  
For brave Adrastus in the Theban war.  Ar. 
Now by my soul a noble warrior;  
But how met you with this man of art?  Cre. 
In my travels— and I protest stangely;  
As I was passing over the Lybian deserts, I lighted upon the Grand signior's Court, and being invited by him into the Seraglio to see his Concubines, there skipped into this gentleman's acquaintance, he being one of those rare Artists kept to edify the doxies.  Ar. 
Now by my honour a strange encounter:  
— What are these— Ent. Buf. and Gud.  Ser. 
Your Nephew Sir A Servant.  
And his attendant—  Ar. 
How, are you son to Carlo Buffonie?  Bu. 
I am the young Gentleman Sir, and as simple  
As I stand here, chad better clothers'  
When's come from home.  Ar. 
And how came you to lose them cozen?  Bu. 
We met with some vermin Zodiars that plundered us▪  Ar. 
Alas poor cousin! and who furnished you  
With these new fashioned Boots?  Gu. 
They are the workmanship of my own hands.  Bu. 
My man Gudgeon is right, a man of knowledge  
Nunckell ●●e warrant you.  Gu. 
I will serve your worship in the same kind  
Upon any occasion, I have not been a servant  
To your brother honest Gotfer Carlo so long for nothing.  Ar. 
Thou sayest well friend, I shall employ thee.  
My noble friends, I shall refer my kinsman to  
Your care, call for what money you shall see  
Occasion of to furnish him with all the gallantry  
He is yet capable of; I could wish he had  
Been better prepared for tutors so ingenious,  
But hope to see the sudden effects of your skill.  Lew. 
Sir, we shall do our best endeavours—  
Come my ill clad gallants, we will change your  
Rusty Swords for glittering Rapiers,  
Your Russets into Scarlet, and feed  
Your horses with your boots.  Buf. 
What becomes of our breeches then Gudgeon?  Gu. 
We will send them home to old Master,  
They will serve for a change. Ex. Om.  Enter the King, an Ambassador as from Cyprus. Kin. 
How full of fatal changes are our lives!  
What is't to be a Monarch, and yet live  
Trembling at every blast of passion thus!  
When all my thoughts in the fair hopes were calmed  
Of Heroina's safe arrival, than  
Even then to have them smothered in this cloud  
Of cur'st▪ intelligence— Oh Glorianda!  
Each star is dropped out of my heaven of joy;  
All our intended triumphs must convert  
To funeral obsequies, our laurels be  
Wreathed o'er with Cypress, and the Tyrian robe  
Strike all its splendour to an Ebon vail.  Glo. 
Your grief is yet but weak suspicions birtch,  
And happily may prove abortive, Sir.  Kin. 

Poor girl!  
Thou fain wouldst into comfort flatter us,  
But the malignity of sorrow can  
Admit no cordials, when its meager fist  
In all her functions grasps the struggling soul.   

Hear him unravel the black clew that led  
Me into this dark labyrinth of grief,  
And tell me then where I have ever lest  
Hopes to escape the Minotaur of pastions.   Glo. 
Shall I my Lord  
burden you with the weight of this sad story.  Emb. 

Your will commands each motion of my soul,  
Though to a sad obedience— Know then fair Princess  
When first our full spread sails were pregnant grown  
With prosperous gales of wind, and all our hopes  
Swelled equal to their full stretched wombs, and we  
With joy beheld proud Aetna's gloomy top  
And slighting Neptune did begin to pray  
To our domestic Lar, even than  
A spiteful storm streched on the wings of all  
The clamorous winds, proclaims a combat, and  
Chooses our latitude the fatal lists.   

The sun's fair mirror curls her even brow,  
Whilst white armed waves catch at the clouds, and fall  
Like liquid Mountains on our sinking Ships,  
Our rent sails hang on tops of rocks, our cords  
Crack like the fibers of a dying heart,  
The frighted sailor more distracted than  
The elements into confusion startles,  
The Master vainly calls for help, till by  
An angry wave washed off, he loses all  
His hopes i'th' Seas unfathomed womb. Whilst in  
These full mouthed oaths natures intemperate son  
Swore our destruction, a calm gales soft breath  
Fans off despair, we now behold none but  
Pacific Seas, but in this new born light  
No beam of comfort dwelled we by it seeing  
Nought but the scattered ruins of our Fleet  
Which dressed the flood in funeral pomp, but wha 〈…〉  
Struck most amaze, that Vessel where we had  
Treasured our hopes, the Princess ship was lost.   Glo. 
A sad relation.  Kin. 
Oh but too true, too true my Glorianda,  
Dev●uring Seas have cozened our embraces.  
— But shall I lose her thus? go gather all  
Those Ships that owe obedience to this I'll  
And let their squadrons cloud the Sea, until  
You find her out, or else, by all that's good,  
Thy life, though an unworthy sacrifice,  
Shall fall an offering to her father's loss.  Emb. 
I go— though in despair to speed. Ex Emb.  Enter Oroandes, Zannazarro, Eurione. Oroandes kneeling, presents the prisoners. Oro. 
Thus only may your enemies encounter  
Those beams of sacred majesty that shine  
Through you from the Sicilian diadem.  Kin. 
Rise noble soldier, high in our love as wonder  
— Thus joy encounters grief, but is to weak  
For such a foe— are these thy victorious trophies?  
There's something in their looks that argues worth,  
Were it not clouded in Rebellions mask.  
But that's a sin whose black infection strikes  
Damps to the heart of monarchy, and cannot  
Be nursed within a States ejecting womb  
Without distempering every vital part.  
It was thy mercy when the obstructed sword  
Like lightning fled, and left their lives untouched,  
And now our justice must perfome that task.  Glo. 
I more than doubt poor Zannazarros safety,  
Some of loves old ingredients yet remain.  Kin. 
— Why so much woman, Glorianda?  
Thou but mispendest thy pity, foolish girl,  
Upon an object, which if not removed  
Would soon eclipse the brightness of our stars.  
— Go call the Priests of Mars and Pallas hither.  Oro. 
At what wild fury reaches this discourse?  
If at his anger hell lights torches to  
Lead them into destruction, there must fall  
Some showers of blood to quench them.  Enter Priests. Kin. 
Here take the prisoners to your charge, and let  
Those ceremonies be performed, by which  
The tainted blood of sacrifices are  
Made incense for the gods; see them prepared  
Ere the next morning gilds the earth, delay  
Shall pluck no feathers from the wings of vengeance.  
— 'sdeath! what does't curd your bloods? go bear them off,  
That brow that dares contract itself into  
A frown had better meet a thunderbold.  Glo. 
O they are lost, for ever lost! Ex. Zan. Eurio.  Oro. 
Is't grief, or reverence that unnerves me thus?  
— Oh my soul— thou art too weak— too faintly weak  
To move beneath the Chaos of these woes!  Kin. 
Now Oroandes I have time to embrace thee,  
And hug this cabinet of virtue, which  
Contains those jewels by whose sovereign price  
Our safety was redeemed. But I have not  
In all thy absence let thy goodness drop  
Out of my thoughts, witness this Lady, in  
Whose virgin breast drop reg've strove to plant thy worth,  
Until her sympathising virtue might  
Nursed to maturity, which to improve, I'll leave  
You to Loves fair Elysium, privacy.  Oro. 
I am— your vassal Sir, but cannot pay  
Oblations due to so immense a love. Ex. King.  Glo. 
Whither starts my degenerate spirits!— I was born  
Of Parentage high as Sicily's King;  
And though their death made him my guardian, yet  
May be allowed the freedom of my choice.  
The conversation of our youth had nursed  
A Cupid in each eye, ere Zannazarro  
Forced by a father's high aspiring pride  
Forsook's obedience to the Crown, and then  
A mutual love mixed our souls currents in  
One silver stream of joy, and shall I now  
Buy it with pride, 'cause his dejected state  
Unvested of its gaudy honour stands?  
— No— let his titles sacrifices fall  
Unto his guilt, so I may him in joy.  Oro. 
— She weeps— sure there is more in this  
Then yet my thoughts can fathom:  
If it be love to Zannazarro, perhaps we may  
Prevail by our united prayers— Pardon Lady  
My unbecoming rudeness, I have sorrows  
That like my evil Genius on my soul,  
Sit clothed in sables that obscure the light  
Of beauty's rays▪  Glo. 
You need no mask to walk i'th'▪ Moonlight Sir,  
But were there flames to quench you, I should shed▪  
Tears large enough to quench the rising fire.  Oro. 
We are not like to thrive in love that plant▪  
The sprightly fruit in such a watery soil.  Glo. 
Yet our affections are perhaps of kin,  
Did we discover their original.  
— Let's both disvellop truth my Lord, I blush not  
To let you know these tears are only shed  
To mollify those stubborn deities  
That sway brave Zannazarroes' fate— And think  
Yours sympathize in a relation near  
As is 'twixt him and fair Eurione.  Oro. 
Oraculous truth!— Dear Lady, let me kiss  
This hand the index to so brave a heart,  
And on it seal allegiance to your heart.  
Our souls could ne'er have met a nearer way▪  
But in the road of wedlock, this hath clasped  
All the black lines of our affections in.  
One volume, though by nature's hand transcribed  
In different chara 〈…〉 but oh! it lies not  
In our united pra 〈…〉 for to release  
The objects of our love from those strict bands  
Our Prince's rage ●etters their safety in.  Glo. 
All violence would wear the ugly brand▪  
Of sacrilege, else I would try the power  
Of all my Kingdom to support their fates.  
R●egium holds many active spirits that would  
Bear his proud anger with as high a flame,  
Should I but stir what now conceals their hate.  Oro. 
— I have an Army too  
Not yet disbanded, which would gladly kindle▪  
Their discontents at the least beam of mine,  
The airy weight of a few would set  
The fatal engine going; but my blood  
Shrinks to its centre at rebellion's name,  
And as if tainted with the thought from thence  
Scatters an ague through my limbs. If all  
Our prayers, when mounted on the wings of love,  
Cannot prevail, let's mix our blood with theirs,  
And Martyrs die to our adored saints.  Glo. 
I shall do something too, something that may  
Preserve my name in sanguine characters.  
But first let's visit him, perhaps those engines  
That batter heaven, may shake his marble breast.  Oro. 
My prayers shall wait on yours; and if denied,  
A lover die, not live a regicide. Ex. om.  Enter a tailor with a new suit, a Hatter, shoemaker, Spurrier, with other Tradesmen. 1. Tra. 
Come neighbours, shall's crack each one's our can before the Gentleman comes.  2. Tra. 
Our khans, hang the muddle horsedrench,  
Let's drink each of us our groat square off  
Brisk sack, this foreign liquor but  
Adulterates our bloods.  3. Tra. 
As many of your wives does your beds.  1. Tra. 
How this coxcombly boy p 〈…〉  
Because he hath ne'er a one of his owe 〈…〉  
We shall shortly have him buy the fee 〈…〉  
Of a piece of land, that hath been broke  
Up to his hand in the country.  3. Tra. 
Did your easy entrance inform you,  
Your own was such?  2. Tra. 
Go to Sirrah, you are a saucy boy  
To prate thus to ancient men and thy betters.  
I tell thee, both my neighbour and  
Myself are town-born children,  
And have born offices,  
And before thy head was hot to some of us.  3. Tra. 
But not before your own was horned Sir.  1. Tra. 
How you impudent rascal! a little more would make me lay my yard about your ears.  3. Tra. 
But take heed you do not break him; for I have heard though you are double yarded, your wife wants her full measure.  1. Tra. 
I protest I will complain to the officer and make him prove it.  2. Tra. 
Hist— you prating coxcomb— here comes the Gentleman.  Enter Lewcippus. 1. Tra. 
God save your good worship.  2. Tra. 
We are glad to see your worship well.  Lew. 
Come— what have you brought here?— let's see your bills, thou shouldst be a man of might by the largeness of thy weapon, but without help of thy shears I will pare off half— there, nay take it without grudging, and set thy hand to the receipt.  1. Tra. 
Nay, I beseech your good worship to consider a poor Tradesman, our taxations are heavy.  Lew. 
Tush! you were born to be made slaves off, come, thy hand.  1. Tra. 
To the whole bill Sir?  Lew. 
'Sdeath! you cross legged cur, d'ye snarl? thou wert better eat thy pressing iron then reply another word— come you with the ta●●aty face, thy blue apron ●its not methodically friend— I protest thy conscience is made of sarsenet, pure and tender as thy wives new blanched cheeks— hast thou set thy hand to the bill?— how! my money will not hold out— but I will send anon— that satisfies.  2. Tra. 
Most abundantly, an't please your worship▪  Lew. 
My jolly C●ispin, thou must grant the same courtesy.  3. 
Oh Lord Sir, your worship may command.  Lew. 
Thou deservest to be heir apparent to Sir Hue, and to have thy apron a perpetual winding sheet to his bones; come along with me, and transport your commodities, 'tis your India's.  Ex. om. Enter Arratus, Carlo, Creon. Arr. 
Signior, you are welcome.  Car. 
I thank your Lordship— intruth so shall your Nephew be to my house— and to my daughter too— or she and I shall square, but I would fain see the sprightly gallant,— as ●ame as I am, I have walked thus far on purpose.  Arr. 
He will not long be absent Sir, but is that wild head Vanlore dead?  Car. 
This Gentleman can best inform you.  Cre. 
It was my fortune to close his dying eyes.  Car. 
Captain, not a word of our bargain. Car. aside.  Cre. 
'Swounds! d'ye think my neck itches for a halter?  
Poor Vanlore— he was a Gentleman whose memory  
My love to worth engages me to honour.  
Was this not well dissembled old boy? Aside.  Car. 
Rarely— thou mayst be secretary to the Devil.  Arr. 
My Nephew— Sir—  Enter Buff. Lew. Gudgeon. Car. 
God save you noble Sir— you're happily encountered.  Buf. 
Would the old fellow beg something Tutor?  
We will give him Gudgeons old clothers, they are better than his.  Lew. 
Not too loud— this must be your father— law.  Arr. 
Nephew, take notice of this Gentleman, you may hereafter call him father.  Gud. 
He should ha better clothers first and I were as my Master— he had as good a father as this at home.  Buf. 
Peace fool and let your Master talk— how likest this Cloak— and sword— and boot old boy— ha!  Lew. 
You are too rude— observe his gravity.  Buf. 
Why, no matter as long as I talk loud enough;  
Dost keep any dogs old boy? I'll course my father's  
Crop-●ar'd bitch with thee for forty groat●.  Lew. 
Fie— fie, you must lay no wagers under pounds.  Buf. 
Why then pounds let it be— or we have a▪ fore-horse of our own breed shall draw with ere a horse in Syracuse.  Lew. 
Fie, this is discourse too vulgar.  Buff. 
Why, did you not tell me 'twas Gentleman like  
To talk of nothing but Dogs and Horses?  Gud. 
Yes, and Whores too Master.  Buf. 
Thanks good memory— I'll begin.  Lew. 
— Not for a world before your uncle Aside.  
That is discourse for Taverns— betwixt the drinking scenes,  
Whilst men take breath to throw away estates;  
There you may vie obscenity, and lard  
Your dry discourse with oaths— but must be civil here.  Car. 
His Tutor's giving him good counsel.  Arr. 
He is a Gentleman I'm wondrous happy in, for wholesome precepts.  Car. 
Will you not give him leave to visit my poor house?  
My Lord— his company will be precious,  Arr. 
Sir I intended he should wait on you home.  
Captain it is our pleasure, you attend him.  
The city's full of swaggerers, and he something rash.  
— Nephew— we'll leave you to attend this Gentleman;  
Bring me wored how thou likest fair Theocrine. Ex.  Car. 
Come Signior, will you walk?  Buf. 
Nay pray Sir go before. Ex. om.  Enter Oroandes alone. Oro. 
All yet is silent, dark and secret, as if  
The powers of night did favour my intent.  
Pardon you Gods that have a residence  
Within this sacred roof, if I profane,  
You are the authors of it, if you own  
Affections clothed in robes immaculate  
As martyred Saints embrace their sufferings in,  
Such sure are mine, witness that blood— which when  
Warmed with the pride of victory did grow  
Too cold to hatch the embryoes of a sin,  
Though there were flame 〈…〉 beauty large enough  
To thaw an Anchorite. Pity me then, just powers,  
And spare your guiltless sacrifice. This hour,  
This dismal silent hour, is near the time  
In which the Priest, with hidden mysteries  
To purge his offering from all the stains  
Of secret thoughts, into this Temple comes— I do not know  
What earthquakes cold divinity may breed  
Within my breast, but sure he must be more  
Than man that b 〈…〉 her hence, unless he wears  
My life upon his sword— But I am vain,  
Nought but the Gods armed with destructive thunder  
Are guardians of this place, which if this act  
Be black and sinful, will, when purpled in  
The guilt on' 〈◊〉 hurl me into hell▪ if not  
Protect my bold endeavours— They come  He withdraws. Enter Eurione led by the Priest of Minerva, in his hand a Censer burning, at which having lighted the tapors he unveils her. Pri. 
Hail noble Virgin— more to be adored  
Than she whom our fond superstition makes  
Our commonwealth's protectress.  Eur. 
What language do I hear?— are you her Priest,  
And dare profane your own Miverna thus?  Pri. 
I would not have your judgement Lady look  
On us with much deluded eyes, to think  
We pay a private adoration to  
This gilded marble, only deified  
By some unperfect souls unworthy fear  
Whose reason darkened, flew to fancy for  
Relief, and from those vain ideas framed  
Those tutelary powers, which wiser men  
Pretend devotion ●o, only to awe  
Irregular humanity into  
A dull obedience to their power, which were  
Mad to adore those deities they make.  Eur. 

Oh horrid blasphemy!  
Are these the hallowed mysteries you use  
To sanctify your offerings with, or is't  
Your Cruelty now I am near the steep  
And dangerous precipice of death to stagger  
A feeble woman's faith, that so your mortal  
May pass to an eternal punishment?   

Had I no drop of blood but what had been  
Fi 〈…〉 d with a fever of hot lusts, the grave 〈…〉  
Cold damps unfettered by your Prince's doom  
Had long ere this extinguished them. My soul  
The warm embraces of her flesh is now▪  
Even now forsaking, this frail body 〈…〉  
Like a lost feather fall from off the wing  
Of vanity, ere many minutes lie  
A lump of loathed corruption, foul enough  
Without being with so black a sin deformed.   Pr. 
Deluded innocence! think you that fate should rob  
Me of the glorious treasure of your beauty,  
Soon as I had enjoyed it? What though you are  
With your heroic Brother destined to  
Confirm a simple Prince's zeal; I know  
Ways to evade it that shall make him tremble  
To touch this sacred beauty, with a reverence  
Holy as that he pays unto the Gods,  
Whilst you( though now) ordained to die a Martyr  
Shall live a Saint among the sacred number  
That in this temple spend their happy hours  
In silent close delights, such as do make  
The amorous soul spring in the womb of fancy:  
Here every hour that links the chain of life  
We fill with pleasures, yet ne'er feel their surfeits,  
Degenerate to that pale disease of fear  
The ignorant world calls Conscience.  Eur. 
How strangely lies the ●evill here disguized  
Within the mask of age and holiness?  Pr. 

Of age!— look here Eurione,   Throws off his ornaments. 

Is this a face to be despised?— be not amazed,  
The holy reverence which the people bear  
Unto my office, keeps me so much stranger  
Unto their knowledge, that I still may be  
Secure within the shade of a disguise,  
Pleasing the sprightly Vestals, which my youth  
Knows better how to do then feeble age.   

Had not that excellence of beauty which  
Appears in you bright as men fancy Angels,  
I had not stooped to this discovery, but  
With the severity of my office led  
You to inevitable death, which now  
My love redeems yo 〈…〉 am, if with a fair  
Consent you meet the vigour of my passion.   Eu. 

Witness you Gods that see my soul disvelloped  
From every thought of earth, how much more willingly  
I would submit myself to the embraces  
Of crawling worms, the cold inhabitants  
Of silent dormitories, then to have  
My dying hopes warmed into life again  
By those wild fires of thy prodigious lusts.   

No impious villain— when ghastly horror makes  
A giddy circle round thy deathbed— and  
Thy sins like Furies all appear to fright  
Thy trembling soul from her last stage of life,  
When thou shall curse thy birthday, and implore  
Eternal darkness to obscure thee from  
Heavens all discerning eye, this sin shall not  
Make up a link o'●h everlasting chain.   Pr. 
Must I be then denied, fond girl!— thou hast  
Precipitated all the hopes of life  
By this abortive virtue, unless thou canst  
Command a guard of those imaginary  
And helpless deities to circle thee  
In forms more dreadful than the night, or death  
Presents them to our sears, no power shall save thee,  
Thy prayers are sown on unrelenting rocks  
Mixed with a wilderness of air— through which  
Thou'lt never find them in their wished effects.  
Tush! this weak resistance is in vain  
The Virgin goddess stirs not.  She flies to the Altar. Eu. 
Oh hear— hear me you sacred powers,  
And from your thrones look on an injured maid.  Pr. 
Poor fool— they're deaf to thunder.  Eu. 
Some pitying God protect me.  Oroandes discovers himself and drawing his sword, runs at him. Oro. 
— Hold— hold,  
There's thy reward— missed thee!  
Sure there's no god protects thee.  
— Impious Devil!—  
Canst thou ere hope to shun me?  Eu. 
Oh gods!— why was I waked to life again  
To see the ruin of my honour?  
— My Oroandes!—  
Or hath some pitying deity  
Possessed thy shape to rescue me?  Oro. 
Eurione— my hallowed Eurione,  
I'm too profane to touch thee yet, until  
Cleansed in this villain's scalding blood, which must  
Be shed an offering to thy injured virtue.  Offers at him, he false on his knees. Eu. 
Oh hold my Oroandes,  
o not defile thy hands in human blood  
Before such sacred witnesses as these,  
Let his worse punishment be to survive  
An act so wicked, till the dictates of  
His conscience doth anticipate his hell.  Pr. 
My guilt amazes me, nor do I know.  
Whether with greater confidence to beg.  
Pardon from heaven, or you; so black, so foul  
Are my attempts against both: but if confession  
May be the harbinger of penitence  
Although deformed with sin, I shall dis●obe  
The blackest secrets of my soul, these flames  
Of lust, whose dreadful blazes light me to  
Future destruction, may perhaps conduct  
You to a throne of safety. Hoping to  
Obtain my black desires, when fear of death  
Should be my moving advocate, I had  
laid counterplots for to prevent the fall  
Of the intended stroke. If you make use  
Of these contaminated robes, which I  
Have more abused, you'll find their operation  
In wonders seeming ominous, as those  
Which drive men to devotions last retreat.  
Not that I wish for life, but fear to die  
Ith' youthful vigour of my sins, before  
Repentance hath inseebled them, I beg  
Life from your mercy, which shall never be  
Lavished in pleasures more, removed from all  
The noise and business of the world, I'll live  
Attended only with my sorrow, where  
My private sorrow may no object find  
But my own gangrened sins to work upon.  Oro. 
The gods are pitiful, and thou mayst live to merit life eternally.  
Canst thou( my dear Eurione) forget thy wrong?  Eu. 
I else should fear to go where's fate conducting me.  Oro. 
Farewell— mayst thou acquaint thy soul with heaven.  Takes up the Priestsrobes. 
Come my fair sacrifice, these robes can be  
Never profaned, worn to deliver thee.  Ex. om. 
The end of the Second Act.   

Actus Tertius.  Officers belonging to the Temple set forth an Altar, others prepare a Throne, loud music. Enter the King crowned, Glorianda and attendants, the King ascends the Throne, the rest place themselves. Kin. 
THou lookest too sadly Glorianda,  
Though funerals do attend the day we're not  
To wear the sables of our souls, whilst we  
With sacrifices feast the deities.  Glo. 
My sadness is not grief Sir, only fear  
How my frall temper may endure a sight  
So full of horror—  Kin. 
We will support thee, here now only wants  
Sick Oroandes, I hope it is not love that troubles him.  Glo. 
He is too wise Sir, inconsiderate women  
Are greatest sufferers in that tyranny.  Kin. 
Yet let it not afflict thee girl,  
He will do well again—  Loud music, the Priest of Mars enters 〈◊〉 one side of the Altar leading Zannazarro, his arms bound in a crimson scarf, crowned with bays, after him two boys with Censers and sacrificing instruments. Softer music, at which enter Oroandes dressed like the Priest of Pallas, leading in Eurione, her robe crimson, her arms bound with a white scarf, Virgins in white bearing Censers. Kin. 
My rage begins to melt, I could even wish  
They might survive the rigour of their doom.  Glo. 
Must I see this and live?  
No Zannazarro— here is my convoy to thee.  Draws a poniard. The Priests lead the sacrifices above the Altar, where unbinding their arms, they give them liberty of mutual embraces. Zan. 
So— now we have ended, my Eurione,  
All our employments on the earth— this is  
The last of all our mortal interviews.  
The wheels of time worn on the road of age,  
Will lose their motion, ere we shall again  
Meet in the robes of flesh, which must ere that  
Change to a thousand shapes its varied dust:  
Yet still(— dear girl) our souls unseparable  
Shall walk together to eternity.  Eur. 
Farewell dear Brother— if thy soul do take  
Its flight ere mine— stay for me in the clouds.  They are bound and led to the Altar, where whilst they kneel a Song from within, the Chorus by the attendants to the Priests, who light the fire for the sacrifice. 

The SONG.  

See, each wind leaves civil Wars,  
The gods approve your Sacrifice,  
And to behold it, all the Stars  
look through the curtains of the skies.  
Peace reigns through every element, Chorus.  
Whilst this fair pair to heaven are sent.   

Sparta's dear Iphigenia died  
A spotted sacrifice to this  
Bright Nymph compared, whose Virgin pride  
Says nature nought hath done amiss.  
And yet this flower so choicely made Cho.  
By death's untimely stroke must fade.   

Rome's honoured Decii might have fought  
Under this youth's command, yet been  
More famed than when their valour brought  
The blood of foes, t' embalm it in.  
Yet this brave soul must fall before Cho.  
With age's frost he's tinseled o'er,   

What's falling now shall rise more pure,  
The fatal stroke but sinks the Mine,  
Whose oar this flaming calenture  
Shall only for heaven's Mint refine.  
Go then and live where time shall be Cho.  
Confounded in eternity.   

Prepare, prepare the fatal stroke  
Which their fair threads must separate:  
Goodness may pity, not revoke  
The inevitable doom of fate.  
What their crimes were, let men forget, Cho.  
No letters but heaven's alphabet,  
When mortals are from virtue fell,  
Their vices should in censure spell.    The Song ended, the Priests prepare to strike. A clap of thunder, groans, and shrieks throughout the Temple, the priest's robes dropped over with blood, the Images of the gods reversed. Kin. 
What horrid prodigies are these?  
The gods are sure grown angry with our prayers.  Pri. 
I have been long attendant on those powers  
Within this place adored, yet never saw  
The gods thus moved before. We have profaned  
Something their knowledge calls Angelical.  Kin. 
Be gone these gaudy trappings of my pride,  
This lowly dust looks lovelier than a throne.  
Lies here no charm Throws off his crown and robe.  
To release our fears?  The Priest unties their scarves, at which soft music from above, both the images turning again. Pri. 
Here— here lies the guilt of our impiety,  
The gods are pleased again, and those whom we  
Intended Martyrs must our Saints survive.  Oroandes throws off his robes and discovers himself. Kin. 
Ha— Oroandes— what damned imposture's this!  Glo. 
To what extent of miracle grows this!  Oro. 
The arguments of mercy from the gods  
Embolden me to seek the like from you.  
My violent passions forced my love into  
Strange labyrinths of attempts. But what I first  
Trembling with guilt did undertake, these miracles  
Have proved legitimate. Armed with a high  
But inconsiderate heat of fury, when  
Eurione into the inmost room  
Was of the temple brought, resolved to bear  
Her from the rigour of her doom, I had  
Thither in private first conveyed myself  
Attending on the hour in which the Priest  
With his sad charge should enter, which arrived  
I that come there to offer sacrilege  
Unto that holy function, saw myself  
Ordained the instrument of heaven to free  
Her from the hands of a foul ravisher,  
The hallowed lights being only kindled to  
Make way to th' injured object of his lust,  
His prayers to blasphemies, his sacred unction  
To profanations more obscene than those  
That revel in the sinks of sin were turned.  
The badges of a reverend age—( these robes  
The sacred livery of heaven) thrown off  
Appears a sprightly gallant, fit for  
A champion to the stews, than servant of  
The injured gods, whose violence had not  
My presence rescued her, had cozened heaven  
Of your intended sacrifice to please  
His own exuberate lust.  Kin. 
This dreadful story  
Strikes trembling earthquakes through all my veins.  
To what vast monster will our sins unchained  
From fear of vengeance grow!  Oro. 
That this is true, witness those powers which owned  
That cause which I( though rashly) undertook.  Kin. 
Pardon me you diviner powers— I have  
Been too neglective of the charge you gave me,  
But will redeem it in my future zeal.  
That villain's blood forced out by torments shall  
Begin the purple deluge— For you fair souls  
I must forget those crimes heaven hath been pleased  
Thus freely to forgive— rise higher in  
Our favour then was that exalted story  
From whence your father fell.  Oro. 
Mountains of grief fall from my burdened soul  
In their delivery: but your sovereign mercy  
Must either with one cordial more relieve  
My sickly hopes, or I am lost for ever  Kin. 
Thy actions speak thy wishes— here Oroandes  
Take from my hand this gift of heaven— she's thine  
By their decree. Gives him Eurione.  Glorianda knelt. Glo. 
Ere your extended mercy shall contract  
Its liberal hand, let me be happy in  
The full fruition of my joys— My love  
To Zannazarro, though long smothered in  
His fate's obscurity, must now break out  
In cataracts of prayers, until you make  
Me so much sharer of the blessings of  
This happy day to meet my hopes in him:  Kin. 
Thy thoughts arrive clothed in the robes of joy.  
Here Zannazarro— embrace in her thy happiness.  Zan. 
With such a trembling pleasure bodies shall  
Encounter with their separated souls.  Kin. 
Now all your seas are calmed— only my bark  
Still digs her wings beneath a tempests weight;  
Yet will I struggle with my griefs to show  
How much we to this day's delivery owe.  Ex. om. Enter Theocrine and her maid. The. 
Good wench no more, thou'st ti●'d me with this story.  Mai. 
But had you seen it Mistress you could never have been weary, it was the sump●uousest sight that ever eyes beheld, the King's good grace( God bless him) is a brave man— by my troth my thought it did me good to see him, but we were all overjoyed when the sacrifices were released.  The. 

Prithee no more— the sacrifice released,  
Happy are they— but I must die a sacrifice to love,  
No helpful Angel will vouchsafe to look  
From his blessed throne on me; my Vanlore's ghost  
Is now triumphing 'mongst the Saints, and sees  
Or else regards not mine afflections here.   

A cruel Father first divorced what now  
A harsher fate eternally divides.  
But know my dear, where e'er thy wand'ring spirit  
Roves unappeased with sacred funeral rites;  
Thy Theocrine lives but to pay her tears  
Oblations to thy memory, and will  
Ne'er put off sorrows sable robe until  
The mourning wreath shall knit my winding sheet.  
— These were the bands wherewith we once confirmed   Pulls off a bracelet. 

The obligations of our love— but now  
Are seals of my affliction— sent me back  
As messengers of his untimely fate.   Enter Carlo, and Vanlore disguized like a Mountibanck. Car. 
Look yonder she is, in one of her fits I protest:  
I doubt she is crazed, good Doctor behold her.  Van. 
Love— love— I see it by the beating of her pulse.  Ca. 
Why how now daughter, never out of these quandaries?  
Thou wilt spoil a good face with this puling.  Van. 
Your tres humble servitor Madam.  Car. 
Nay do not look so slightly on him,  
He hath promised me to cure thee wench,  
He is a man of art— come forth of a strange country,  
And knows more than a thousand of our dull islanders.  Van. 
Foh— they are buffoons— horseleeches,  
Know nothing more den the Farrier, how to give  
A great drench— pig enough to break de horse  
Belly— begar mere pisse-prophets,  
De very spawn of de white which, fellows  
Dat use no medicine but what day pick out  
Ofde hedge— not so virtuous as madam's  
Old book of receipts—  The. 
Sir did you bring this fellow here to rail?  Car. 
'tis but his humour, Theocrine, give him way.  Van. 
Me scorn de stinking drugist, have no use of his horse, loads of trash— Mine be de pure extract— de spirit of de Mineral, here be de chemical pill, here de quintessence of balsam— that which cures all solution of continuity though in de ventricles of de heart— but here be de grand elixir, the sovereign medicine— that cured the great Mogul when he had been seven year sick of a Lethargy.  Car. 
Doctor— I'll leave her to your care.  Van. 
Me warrant dat shall cure her— come Madam  
Begar you but dissemble— dis is no inveterate  
Disease— me see no symptoms of it in your face,  
Dear is no giddy rolling of the eye— no swelling  
Of de veins about de forehead— nor does the  
Pulse inform me but the systole and diastole  
Keep due time— dis love to Vanlore be but a  
Pretence, to free yourself from him, you hate  
The more deserving Buffonie.  The. 
If grief for him be my disease— thy honesty  
Is as recoverable, now practice hath  
Made the malignity inveterate,  
Keep thy strange terms of injured art to fright  
The Ague or a toothache off— My griefs  
Are grown beyond imaginary cures.  Van. 
Pishaw— suppose you did once love him,  
He be dead, and dear be better men that seek your love,  
I have encountered with dat Vanlore in my  
Peregrination, and found him to be a kickshaw  
— A man of no worth.  The. 
Thou art a villain to abuse the dead,  
Had his deserts crauled on the earth like thine,  
'tis baseness to depress them now he is  
Above or else beneath all mortal hate;  
But were he living, thy invectives might  
Sully the Sun as soon as spot his fame.  
Go then, and let the wondering multitude  
Admire thee on a stage, come here no more  
To scare away my private thoughts, the worst  
Of which more pleases then thy company.  Van. 
You will be of de oder mind, when I have freed You of all de grief for Vanlore.  The. 
It must be by some speedy means to cast  
This flesh into the grave that mould of death,  
There to be modelled for eternity,  
Within whose everlasting springs we shall  
Meet with those joys whose blasted embryos were.  
Here made Abortive. If thou hast a poison  
Subtle as that the eyes of Basilisks  
Shoots forth destruction in, with more delight  
●●e take't then ere a fainting Patient did  
Receive thy promised Cordials.  Van. 
What stronger confirmation needs then this? aside.  
She's constanter than times vicissitudes.  
— Yet I'll make good my word, Throws off his disguise.  
— Receive my Theocrine  
The promised cordial, and approve my art.  The. 
My Vanlore!— may I believe my eyes intelligence,  
Or is this joy deluded fancies birth?  Van. 
Real as our affections, when we first  
Assimilated souls in sacred vows.  The. 
My joy hath almost rarified my spirits  
Into a substance volatile as that▪  
Which souls begin their separation in.  
Support me, friend, with the relation of  
Thy fatal story, or this surfeit will  
Be near as dangerous as the dearth of hope.  Van. 
For fear thy father should prevent our story,  
I must shrink under this dark vail again.  Puts on his disguise. 
'tis a relation, Theocrine, will raise  
Thy virtue in a blush— thy Father, Love—  
— Thy cruel Father.  The. 
I always doubted 'twas his wretched spirit  
That raised this dangerous storm.  Van. 
It was— and by a means so full of wickedness  
I tremble to relate it— whilst I lay  
Ith' Leaguer at Ardenna, he corrupts  
Creon and Lewcippus, two mercenary slaves,  
To do what he too long expected had  
From the wars doubtful fortune, but those villains  
By his gifts thawed from their poverty,  
Let forth in streams of luxury their sins  
Wild cataracts, until the channel grew  
So big it bore the boys of reason down,  
And lets this secret in their midnight cups  
Flow undescreetly out, which by a friend  
Of mine informed of, from their poison I  
Received my antidote, and knowing where  
They had designed the place to steal my life,  
Thither prepared for my defence repair.  
The place was clothed in privacy enough  
To warrant them a safe retreat, if in  
Their black design successful, hoping to  
Surprise me unawares; they here being hid  
Attempt my life, but finding me prepared,  
Had with a guilty baseness fled if not  
Inforc'● by me, first to unravel all  
This knot of villainy, confessing how  
Corrupted by thy father's gold, they had  
Sworn my destruction, which repenting, now  
To merit mercy, they engage as far  
Towards my assistance, vowing to obey  
What ever I commanded; and to show  
Their faith's example, this dear relic of  Shows a Bracelet. 
Our first affections give me, which received  
With those strict bonds of base souled cowards( threats)  
Chaining up their obedience to my will.  
I then instruct them with what message they  
Should cheat thy father's willing faith, thy token  
Although the choicest jewel of my soul  
Trusting them with to strengthen impudence  
At their return, which done, I left the Army.  The. 
But wert unkind,  
Thus long to let me languish in despair.  Van. 
That only cast a cloud on the design,  
Those villains lavishing the time until  
Detected vice made them forsake the Army,  
Whilst I to live unknown repaired unto  
A troop of wild Bandets, 'mongst whom I have  
( Though honoured with their captain's title) lived  
Till weary of their sins, yet keep them still  
Friends to protect me when with thee I make  
A safe retreat unto those desert haunts.  The. 
Teach me the way my Vanlore, though it lie  
Through dangers greater than the midnight fears  
Of sickly brains sully their fancies with,  
Through all I'll follow thee.  Van. 
Then my good angels cannot stay behind,  
Thou must, my dear, pretend to love this fool,  
Nay more, consent to marry him.  The. 
How!— do not run dangerous hazards.  Van. 
We must or else lie still at anchor here.  
When thy consent ripens thy father's joy▪  
Ours will grow near maturity— this disguise  
Will furnish me with means enough to know  
The night-walks of his thoughts— by which we may  
Proportion all our actions— he comes  
This kiss, and bid thy Vanlore then farewell.  Enter Carlo. Car. 
A skilful man I protest, what store of implements he hath? Galley pots, Glasses, and Ventosses, I hope he hath done the wench good— save you Doctor; how thrives your endeavour?—  Van. 
Brave— brave— better than we expected;  
But me scorn to pipe forth mine own praises.  
Madam speak for yourself, and inform de ●old  
Mounsieur your vader—  Car. 
— How is it Theocrine?— ha!—  The. 
Well Sir— as the harmonious music of the spirits  
Supplied with air sprung from well tempered blood,  
Composes all the organs of the soul.  
Only in this calm sea of health I find  
Some pleasing spirits hover 'bout my heart,  
Things that till now I was not sensible  
Of, since I first did love forgotten Vanlore.  Van. 
Now de magical potion begins to work.  The. 
Forgive my disobedience Sir, She knelt.  
My hate unto that worthy Gentleman  
Your wisdom had provided for me, shall  
Pay for redemption all the powers of love,  
So you'll not punish it in the denying  
That blessing which till now I called a curse.  
Shall your consent tell me I'm pardoned Sir?  Car. 
With as much pleasure as I got thee girl.  
Now thou hast reconciled my thoughts, my gold  
Is not more cordial than this blessed change,  
Now I shall live to see thee happy in  
Possession of a vast estate.  The. 
The man is unto me more pleasing Sir.  Car. 
So I would have him as long as he hath an  
Estate to boot, I do not like when love grows  
Daring, and encounter poverty, because they  
Imagine the threedbare suit adorned with a few  
Needless virtues.  Van. 
Vat dinke you now signior?  Car. 
That thou'rt a man of art incomparable,  
As Aeseulapius sell— 'twas a cure easily done,  
And therefore I hope will not stand me in much.  
— My good word shall be ready.  Van. 
Me be not mercenary, de generous Artist  
Scorns all reward but what comes willingly.  Car. 
Sayst thou so? then thou art for my turn,  
I like when men will not exact— Come, we will  
Dine together, and then go visit the Lord Arratus  
Sprightly kinsman— Come my girl.  Enter Creon, Lewcippus, Buffonie, Gudgeon, Wenches, Servants, a Bawd. Cre. 
Come grannum, are they fresh and wholesome, such as may be tilted at and not endanger the head of the Lance?  Baw. 
Away you wag, d'ye think I would furnish Customers with ware that should not be for their turn? I protest they came to town but yesterday. Since I dealt in the fleshly occupation I have not had better.  Buf. 
Thou shall be paid well for them Punk,  
There's gold— and here's more left yet.  Baw. 
This is a Boy of mettle.  1. We. 
Let us alone to melt it mother, Come sir, you are sad.  
If any service— of mine might please you, I will  
Strive to show activity in your content, let me lead  
You to the private lists of Venus, where  
We'll make the blood dance measures through our veins  
Till warmed with the delicious sport it glews  
Our wreathed embraces in extracted balm.  2. Wen 
We'll kiss you into ecstasies, and make  
Our breasts the pillows to repose your head.  1 Wen 
We'll please each sense with some delight. Your eyes  
With unveiled beauties whiter than the Alps,  
Your touch with skins like polished Ivory smooth,  
Your taste shall surfeit on the balm of lips,  
For Indian gums, the fruitful valley that  
Lies underneath fair Venus' mount shall send  
Far more delightful perfumes, and when tired  
With these delicious sports, we will sing  
Your wearied spirits into rest.  2. Wen. 
And whilst you sleep our nimble fancies shall  
Study some undiscovered passage through  
The coral banked straits of love, with which  
We'll entertain your naked innocence.  1. Wen. 
Our Banquets shall be all on Cordials, sauced  
With strong provocatives, whose sprightly power  
Each minute shall create new appetites.  Lew. 
The Wenches have ravished him.  Buf. 
Who would not spend Estates upon these Ladies?  
But have you ne'er an ordinary bit for my man Gudgeon?  
I would not have him sit idle.  Baw. 
Rather than he shall want employment, I will  
Venture myself to give him a heat;  
But he hath more mind to a country dance  
I see he is putting his feet in measure.  Gud. 
I woued we had a fiddler here, I could foot it, I saith.  Baw. 
shall's have a dance Gentlemen, I have an old Stallion within that can play.  Buf. 
Call him good Grannum, and let's to't, can you dance Ladies?  Wen. 
We will do any thing that tends to your delight Sir.  Ent. Fidler. Baw. 
Come twist thy guts up old squeaker.  Fid. 
Couple yourselves, I am in tune.  Lew. 
Wilt dance Creon?  Cre. 
Not I, the sport's too light, let Gudgeon supply my place.  Baw. 
Come Gudgeon— thou and I— Play the shaking of the sheets.  They dance. Knock within. 
Within— Ho— house— ho— what, all asleep!  Baw. 
Hark the colonel, and the rest of the Blades  
Are come— shall I call them hither?  Cre. 
No, we will wait on them, come Pupil,  
We will acquaint you with the City Gallants.  Ex. om. Enter three Bandeets, three sailors meeting them. 1. Sai. 
Save you Gallants— where's our Captain?  
Here is a prize for him worth a boarding.  1. Ban. 
— A lovely beauty— 'sdeath! how came you by her?  2. Sai. 
Where we found store of other treasure, nay our  
Trade at Sea will prove better than yours at Land.  
But is not our Captain to be spoke withal?  2. Ban. 
Not now, he is employed, but where we know not.  3. Ban. 
We expect his speedy return, but till than I am his Viceroy in our commonwealth.  3. Sai. 
Then take charge of this Lady, but let her be  
Preserved untouched for him— and hark you Sir,  
Be careful of it— if her complaints inform  
Him otherwise, you'll dearly suffer for it. Whispers.  Hero. 
What dreadful precipice of misery are  
My sullen sates descending— Can I hope  
My honour's safety, whilst my body is  
Commanded by these that no Law controls?  1. Ban. 
Come Lady, you must now be a wild inhabitant  
Of these dark woods with us, yet do not weep,  
Though our profession seem to promise none,  
Here you may find civility.  Her. 
Pray heaven I may, my journey hither hath.  
Been full of strange misfortunes— I have found  
Crowned expectations for captivity  
Unhappily exchanged.  Sai. 
Valiant Bandeets farewell— look to your charge.  3. Ban. 
With as much care as we would strive to keep  
Jewels, whose loss would ruin all our hopes. Ex. Sai.,  3. Ban. 
Come noble Lady— if your birth hath clothed  
Honour in higher attributes, forgive  
Our rudeness, since the child of ignorance.  Her. 
Alas! what ere my birth hath been, I'm now,  
A slave to you, and must forget those vain  
Airs of ambitious honour, so I may  
But find civility enough to be  
Protectress of my Virgin honour, all  
My others will most willingly be spared,  
Yet they are such that were I known I might  
Perhaps repair these broken fortunes which  
Thus makes you run the hazard of the Law.  1. Ban. 
We wish this curtain of your fate may be  
Swiftly withdrawn, till then, let all our vows  
Prevent your fears, the rudeness of our lives  
May be your trouble, but shall never grow  
To a disease more dangerous.  Her. 
I live in hopes to gain ability  
Of an extent so large as recompense. Ex. om.  Enter three Blades, Buff. and Gndgeon drunk, Drawers with Wine. 1. Bla. 
Stand up brother— come, our brains are not warm enough yet— fill out— here noble brother.  Buf. 
Thanks brother colonel— I will pledge thee were it a Tub full— and pay for't too— here's gold enough.  2. Bla. 
Here— a health to my Lord Arratus.  Buf. 
Come to my nuncle— there lies my hat.  3. Bla. 
Here Gudgeon, thou must have it too.  Gud. 
I ha more already than I can carry upright.  1. Bla. 
Round with another health— here  
To my brother Buffonies' Lady.  Buff. 
That's the two young Gentlewomen of the house—  
These be Gallants Gudgeon— sons of fame.  Gud. 
She blew them from her breech.  2. Blad. 
House— more Wine. here, where be these Vermin?  Buf. 
What will they not hear?— let's break down the doors Brother,  
Or fire the house— nay I am valiant too.  Knocks, a Wench looks out a the window. Wen. 
Why, what d'ye mean there Gentlemen to beat my mother's doors down?  Buf. 
Some Wine and Wenches you Cockatrice.  Wen. 
You have too much already Sir, to sleep—  1. Bla. 
Why you harpy, dost think we'll be confined to the Lobby.  Wen. 
You will have the greater benefit of the air Sir.  2. Bla. 
'Swounds we'll not be baffled thus.  Buf. 
No that we will not brother, I feel the spirit of Wine in my brains, and will not be baffled.  1. Bla. 
We'll scale your windows you Whores.  Buf. 
Brother— let's— brother colonel— I'll in first.  2. Bla. 
We will not put you on a matter of such danger Sir.  Buff. 
Danger— I scorn the word— I fear it not brother, I'll do it— I and my valiant sword-bearer.  Gud. 
I'll not creep in at windows, not I, amongst Whores to have my eyes scratched out— not I.  Buff. 
How— not venture? why thou wilt not turn coward and fear scratching?— shall not be said but we country boys are as valiant as the best of them.  3. Bla. 
But the window is narrow, and will spoil your new suit.  Buff. 
Come, come— prepare— help me and I'll put them off.  2. Bla. 
Valiant brother, thou shall have the honour to enter first.  Buff. 
I and my squire will enter this enchanted Castle,  
And relieve the imprisoned Ladies.  
Gudgeon let's untruss and prepare for the combat.  1. Bla. 
I'll help my brother whilst you prepare Gudgeon.  
— Now for the boots.  Buff. 
My foot is at thy service noble brother,  
Nay off with my breeches too— I have drawers on.  2. Bla. 
Hast thou drawers too Gudgeon?  Gud. 
Ay, but I had as leave a been hanged as ha come to this.  Buf. 
Come now, your helping hands, I'll scale the walls,  
Attendant be at hand with my weapon.  1. Bla. 
We'll second thee immediately venturous brother.  
Come Gudgeon follow thy Master.  Put them in at the window. Outcries within. Buf. 
Oh— oh— help us brother colonel,  
Draw up thy forces.  1. Bla. 
The conflict is begun— we'll leave them to the mercy of the Wenches, and now the gulls are uncased make use of their feathers— here's a prize lads.  2. Blad. 
The Golden fleece was but stinking sheepskin to't.  3. Blad. 
Come let's be gone, the bloodhounds will pursue.  Ex. om. Enter Creon and Lewcippus. Cre. 
Pox on the slaves they're gone.  Lew. 
This devil Lust hath undone us.  Cre. 
'tis no now time to dispute it;  
Let's rather bethink ourselves of some course  
To preserve our credit with his uncle.  Lew. 
There's it, and I am deceived, if I have not found it out; thou knowest the opinion he hath of his valour: I will home, and possess him that he privately withdrew as we fear to fight, and that thou were in quest of him whilst I come to inform his doting Lordship.  Cre. 
Blessed be thy pregnant brain,  
Be gone and thrive, I will return upon my cue. Ex. om.  Enter Buffonie and Gudgeon in their shirts— both bloody, wenches following. Baw. 
Out of my doors you Rogues.  Buf. 
Good reverend Matron— we heartily repent— Gudgeon our clothes— what's become of our brother colonel, and the rest of the Blades?  1. Wen. 
Faith even sheathed in your scabards by this time, you ignorant Rogues to come to abuse a civil house and be cozened of your clothes.  Gud. 
Oh we shall die with cold.  Buf. 
Good Gentlewomen give us some slender garments, my nuncle shall give satisfaction— Oh Gudgeon my Hat and all my fine Ribbons, and my Sword— all's gone.  Gud. 
I wilt we had our old ones here.  1 Wen. 
But faith 'tis pity to turn them off thus,  
The puppies will catch the pip— have you no old breeches?  Baw. 
By my faith nothing that belongs to man, but an old armour that a beggarly soldier pawned— and that I'll fetch.  2. Wen. 
And I'll lend the page an old petticoat and waistcoat.  Bring forth an Armour and clothes. Buf. 
We shall be bound to pray for you.  1. Wen. 
Go arm the Knight whist I prepare the Lady of the lake.  Put the armour on Buffonie, the petticoat and waistcoat on Gud. Gud. 
I doubt we shall not pass the street for the scoundrel boys.  Buf. 
Put it on Gudgeon, and be thankful.  
Any thing to hide thy nakedness, good Gudgeon.  Gud. 
I have played maid Marian ere now.  1. Wen. 
So now you are provided, my honoured Don.  Buf. 
We kindly thank your good Ladyships, we shall be bound to pray for you— 'tis not so cold as 'twas.  2. Wen. 
Come, march my valiant Hector.  1. Wen. 
Nay faith here is each of them an old pair of slippers too.  Buf. 
Good-be-wy my honourable young Ladies.  Ex. Buf. and Gud. Baw. 
So now let's in and share. Ex. om.  Enter Arratus, Carlo, Theocrine, and Lewcippus. Arr. 
I wonder at this— when saw you him last?  Lew. 
Some three hours since, when leaving him at a Play, whilst we went to dispatch some business in the City, at our return we missed him— I perceived some difference betwixt him and a blade o'th' town, and doubt the sword hath disputed it.  Car. 
'tis most like that's it, he is resolute.  The. 
Must I then be so unhappy when I first began to cherish love to lose its wished for object?  Arr. 
Grieve not Lady— I hope all is well.  The. 
I doubt his valour will betray him to  
Some desperate quarrel, in whose fury all  
My hopes of him may perish.  Car. 
I will go send my servants abroad,  
We cannot be too careful of his safety.  Arr. 
Trouble not yourself Sir— I have took order.  Enter Buff. and Gud. Buf. 
— Ah— ah— ready to die with cold.  Arr. 
What have we here? a prologue to the mask of Witches?  Car. 
Some intended sport without question,  
Which now will come out of season.  Buf. 
Ha! forgot me nuncle— I am your poor kinsman.  Arr. 
Thou art my shame, and mak'st me grieve that ever  
I entertained a thought of raising thee  
So much beyond the pitch of thy deserts.  The. 
Let not your anger Sir  
Add weights to his unhappiness.  Arr. 
Sure she is bewitched— you are a moving advocate,  
But so it render him not lost within  
The place he did in your affections hold,  
I shall be easily wrought to pardon him.  The. 
That were a love too much depending on  
The accidents of fortune to be thought  
Worthy of him— I on this armour look  
As spoils got from some conquered enemy,  
His garments lost by stealth, not from him took  
By any force of man.  Buf. 
She is in the right nuncle, my brother colonel stole them, whilst my squire and I scaled the walls.  The. 
I thought 'twas some such desperate attempt;  
Let me disarm thee love, and see thy wounds.  Car. 
Rare Artists! this Philter works wonders.  Arr. 
He hath met with some cheat for Knights,  
And the nails of whores for steel.  The. 
Let me wipe off the blood, and thy poor servants too.  Gud. 
I will not trouble you Mistress, I use to heal such slight wounds as this by washing them in mine own water.  Buf. 
I had rather go in out of the cold.  Arr. 
Thou makest me blush unmannered fool:  
Why dost not with more thankfulness embrace  
The tender of her love?— Lewcippus have them  
In, and see them once more clothed.  
I can impute as much to youth's irregularity  
As others can: but if he leave not this,  
My hate may ruin what my love hath built.  The. 
I hope your wisdom Sir will look on this  
But as an error, which correcting age  
May easily reform.  Car. 
— This is an ill sign— I doubt he will spend all.  Arr. 

I shall do much for your sake Lady.   

— Let's in and see him, though 'twere amiss,  
To make him mend, it is to laugh at this.   Ex. om.  

Actus Quartus. Scena Secunda.  Enter the King in a night gown, two Pages with lights, one bearing uhe picture of Heroina, the other of Eurione, set down the light and pictures, and ex. Pages. Kin. 
Be gone, and let me gaze myself to marble here.  
Oh I have lost the quiet of my soul,  
All peaceful harmony. My eyes have sucked  
A subtle poison, and dispersed it through  
My souls oreflowing rivulet. Oh Heroina  
I have defiled those noble thoughts in which  
I should have clothed the memory of this  
— Fain would I smother this proud flame—  
— But vainly strive—  
It hath laid hold on reasons battlements.  
— This is Heroina's— Looks on her picture.  
The same whose fair Idea until now,  
I only entertained within my thoughts—  
And must I let this glorious angel fly  
From the polluted temple?— I must  
— Here lies a spell that charms me Oopens Eurione's picture.  
— What did I say—  
Pardon thou fair commandress of my soul,  
I did blaspheme— this sacred beauty is  
Fit for loves highest Altar, where my heart  
If sacrificed dies in Enthean fire,  
Pure as the Elements, when quintesseneed  
Into perfection shall communicate  
To bodies glorified—  
— These bloodless shadows hold no symmetry  
In their proportion, this interior orb  
Sits like a smaller Planet near the Sun.  
— I should not thus sharpen a scorpion's sting,  
If not already basilisked to death.  
— But I like Atlas vainly struggle to  
O'●ethrow a world of fancy— I'm resolved.  Knocks, enter Page, takes him a Letter. 
Convey this speedily to Oroandes.  
The cure is dangerous, but where the sharp disease  
Breathes nought but desperation, 'tis in vain  
Through reason's Limbeck to extract our thoughts.  
Mufied in clouds of sin and shame I go  
To grope for light, or sink in endless woe. Ex. King.  Enter Vanlore leading in Theocrine. The. 
Be not too confident my Vanlore,  
They're desperate gamesters  
That throw their whole stock at one trembling cast.  
If in this morning's progress we are masked,  
Time ne'er will lend a beam to light us forth  
Of sorrows subtle labyrinth— should thy plot  
Cramped with prevention halt behind thy hopes,  
And I be married to this wretch— we may  
Go then aside, and sacrifice our tears,  
Our fruitless tears unto those Gods for whom  
We have prepared our holy vows— but never  
Must meet in warm embraces.  Van. 
Do not doubt  
The powerful influence of our stars— should what  
I have prepared to combat their design,  
Be by some sullen spy betrayed,— I have  
Fitted a friend ordained for action in  
This comic Scene, whose sword hath glistered 'mongst  
A throng of braver enemies than they;  
By whose assistance, if they durst oppose,  
He cut the cordage of that hand although  
Before the Altar, that lays hold on thee.  The. 
I would not have that silver feathered dove,  
On whose pure wings we first raised our affection,  
Her yet immaculate pinnions dip in blood.  Van. 
Yet must we not  
Tamely let Vultures prey upon our hearts.  
I hear thy Father, Ceugh within.  
And must betake myself to canting.  Enter Carlo, servant leading him. Car. 
Oh— oh— oh!  
Help me good Doctor:  
Oh this tormenting Gout, my joints are racked.  Van. 
Mark you Mounsieur— you must be— paesant till my me-di-cine can operate.  Car. 
Oh I can hold no longer, set me down softly Geafery.  Van. 
And lay up de leg Sh-free—  
Here on de Cushoone— so— no, easy now.  Car. 
Not much— not much— how now girl?  
Hast thou sent to invite thy guests?  The. 
I have Sir, but doubt your want of health will much obstruct their mirth.  Car. 
We'll have the fewer girl, 'twill save charges.  
I do not like these costly feasts,  
They but undo young couples— Oh my joints!  
Doctor, we shall have your company.  Van. 
Me be very sorry, me cannot be your servant,  
But de number of de patients that call upon me.  The. 
We shall excuse you Sir, but could your time permit, you should be ranged with the best of our friends.  Van. 
Me humbly thank you Madam.  The. 
We will be free, though my husband be not Courtly.  Car. 
Not Courtly sayst, marry the better wench, it puts me in hope I shall not live to see thee want, the swaggering Gallant goes out like a snuff, when the constant housekeeper gives the best light at last— Oh— oh— oh! my pain is intolerable—  
I would not have him hearken to this paltry poetry, nor visit ●●arlotry playhouses. Let his employments be to read the Statutes.— oh— 'twill do him good— the knavery of a Lawyer, or the cunning of a bankrupt shall never undo him.  Van. 
And tose as I have heard be diseases Epidemical— but be de law de special antidote.  Car. 
'Tis our last refuge, but in these parts not thoroughly prosecuted, I have now at the least fifty suits depending, and many of them I know to be poor rascals and not able to pay— oh now— now— And yet I can have no further recompense then throwing them in gaol— Oh my knee!— where they shall lie till they rot, if they pay not.  Enter a servant. Ser. 
Some Tradesmen Mris. Theocrine  
Desire to speak with you. Ex. The.  Car. 
Do not buy thy garments too gaudy,  
Gold is better in thy purse then on thy back.  
Take example by thy aged father, Theocrine.  
Oh now it tugs again— now— now!  Van. 
Be of good comfort, it is but de acerbity of de humour— I will to my poison mixers, and prepare de richest ingredients.  Car. 
I think an ointment of good Foot oil were good,  
It is cheap and easily got, I would not  
Be at too much charges— lead me in  
Geofry— oh!— farewell good Doctor— oh!  
This double charges will undo me.  Van. 
Thou ne'er wilt be so happy, wretched Miser,  
To have that file polish thy cankered soul.  
The generous spirits punishment would be  
To thee the effects of mercy. Is Theocrine,  
My virtuous Theocrine, descended from  
So vile a Father? Sure her Mother was  
Some angel clothed in flesh, that could not be  
Corrupted with th' affinity of vice;  
Else had the rudeness of his nature planted  
Some thorns within that Paradise, which now  
The amorous Myrtles tender branches dress  
In such soft lovely robes, her passions are  
Sharpened with anger, but like thorns placed  
To guard those roses Virgin modesty.  
Nor can pale fear in her more refuge seek,  
Then to improve the lilies on her cheek.  Enter Theocrine. The. 
Come follow me Vanlore,  
I have prepared thy habit— let's hasten. Ex. om.  Enter Buff. Godg. Creon, Lewcip. Cre. 
Fie, fie!  
Not ready yet, and to be a Bridegroom ere break of day?  Buf. 
I cannot tie my bond-strings.  Lew. 
Assist him Gudgeon— 'sdeath! what dost gape for?  Gud. 
Chamed thoroughly awaked yet, chad rather  
Be at whom again, a keeping of Sheep,  
There chad time to fetch out my full sleep,  
Here I'm tottered up all hours of the night.  Cre. 
Why, thou dost not grumble rascal, give me— come, p●x on thy gouty fingers, they are fit to tie sacks—  Gud. 
'Tis no matter for your frumps:  
Choned be thus abused long, I'll get me home, and be a paltry Servingman no longer, to lick trenchers and live upon scraps.  Lew. 
Why, how now slave, wert thou ever thus fine before?  Gud. 
Yes in a pranked suit, 'tis much credit sure, e'en as much as the slit in our hawked Bullocks ear, or a mark in the side of a Sheep.  Buff. 
Come Tutor, now come help me truss my points, Chwas never thus troubled with harnessing myself before, and this be the fruit of marriage, I will marry no more yet in haste. If my nuncle had been a man as other men be, he might ha married her his self, and ha saved me this labour, but no matter Gudgeon, we'll have about at trull-me-dems when the Parson hath done.  Enter Arratus. Arr. 
I to my grief have heard all this.  
Unmanered slave! are these the fruits of all  
My ill bestowed expenses? I see it lies not  
I'th' power of art to polish thee, I have  
Ransacked the City for the choicest wits,  
They racked invention to improve thy knowledge,  
And yet thou still remainest a senseless block.  
— Pox on your ugly looks— you sleepish clown,  
Pull up thy spirits— or by heaven— Kicks him.  Gud 
Master, give the testy old fool a clout o'th' car.  Arr. 
What, art thou barking counsel to him?  
Never were there such a couple of whelps  
Harled together, hell take you both for muddy slaves;  
He rather leave my revenues in the walls of a hospital,  
Or build Temples for the next Faction to pull down,  
Then bestow it on such a puppy.  Cre. 
It will become your discretion, Sir, to smother  
Your anger for the present, let this day's  
Business be past over ere you nourish the flame;  
Then if you see no reformation, we shall not  
Counsel to ought your judgement approves not of.  Lew. 
Should you so untimely withdraw your love,  
His disgrace would reflect on your reputation.  Arr. 
You shall prevail for this once, come Sirrah  
— See thy behaviour redeem thy credit  
— Or thou art lost—  Gud. 
— Lost! hay— 'tis no matter and we were  
Both lost, so we could find some of our old  
Mates again— Ich can't abide these Courtnowles. Ex. om.  Enter Zanna. leading Glori. Oroandes Eurione. Zan. 
Must we part here?  Glo. 
Yes there are some ceremonies yet to come  
— Ere you enter farther—  Oro. 
— To morrow night  
No Cherubin will guard the gates that lead  
Unto our blissful thrones, these Ivory temples  
Will dedicated both to Janus stand  
Open in all the civil wars of love.  Eur. 
How Oroandes— thou art wanton friend,  
We yet are clothed in thoughts as pure and white  
As new create Vestals, such discourse  
Will not be harmony— when fettered in  
Your bridal beds, we willing captives lie.  Oro. 
Nor discord my Eurione— the modest blush  
Corals the Virgin cheek no longer than  
The treacherous light betrays her to the view  
Of the delighted Paranymphs.  
The curtained bed presents unknown delights  
Clothed in unpractised nature, which improved  
By loves assimilating virtue warms  
The unformed embryo into full blown joy.  Eur. 
What shall I call this, experimental or imaginary?  Oro. 
Thy virtue best knows what—  Glo. 
I see my Lord the active wars afford  
Sometime to melt in passive thoughts, your steel  
Soft love may polish to a looking glass.  Eur. 
Yes, and work the waving plume into a fan.  Glo. 
The stubborn helmet into lawn, and strew  
Bodkins and pins for rapiers round their beds.  Zan. 
Why, Ladies— though we have been  
Immured in steel, we are no Cyclopes yet,  
Our joints are supple, though not weak as those  
Whose knees are oftener to his Mistress bowed  
Then to his God, who measures out his life  
In wanton Galliards, and a fiddlestick  
Knows better how to handle then a sword,  
No stand of pikes their bristled squadrons place  
About our chins, nor are our lips hedged in  
With quickset beards which thatch a Scythians face.  
The soldier when he's'th stewed his bowels in  
The blood, and sweat of enemies, is then  
Most fit to kiss the balmy lips of peace;  
His fresh and lusty appetite digests  
What glutted Courtiers surfeit on, and makes  
They labour his refreshing exercise.  Glo. 
We cannot doubt the softness your limbs,  
As long as flints will break on feather beds.  Zan. 
Thy active wit my Glorianda sports  
In our rude fancies deserts.  Oro. 
Let her friend, to morrow night she must  
Impaled within the narrow circle of  
Thy arms bebarred that liberty, and then  
Her world of Virgin thoughts will all conclude  
In the possession of Elysium,  
Her lilies and thy laurel both will be  
O'ertopped by Cupid's Myrtles. The Phoenix  
And warlike Eagle to a wilderness  
Untrod by fancies future steps may fly,  
Whilst Venus D●ves are harboured in your breasts.  Enter a Page. Pag. 
— My Lord—  Oro. 
To me!— thy business. Gives him a Letter.  
From his Majesty.  
It nought contains but what must be obeyed.  Pag. 
I shall return that answer Sir. Ex Pag.  Oro. 
They must not see this, it may contain  
News that may ruffle all their calm delights.  Eur. 
What was this fellow's business Oroandes?  Oro. 
The King hath sent for me. Go virgin friends,  
This night lie shivering in your native ice,  
The blooming spring approaches, which must change  
Your snow to beds of roses— good-night  
— blessed Angels clasp their wings about your beds.  Ex. Oro. Zan. 
Come— I'll only wait you to your Chamber door,  
And there— leave my best wishes to attend you further.  Ex severally. Enter the Priest of Hymen, two Maids leading Buffonie, Creon and Lewcippus leading Theocrine, Carlo born in a chair, Arratus with lights and attendants. Car. 
Carry me gently— oh that my pain should so vex me at this good time!  Being come to the middle of the Stage, the candles begin to wax out, flashes of light within the curtain, Vanlore in manner of a ghost appears, and suddenly draws back within the curtain. Pri. 
What prodigies are these?  ( Arr.) 
The light appears again.  Car. 
It is some spectrum.  ( Buf.) 
I hope the devil will not forbid the banes.  He appears again, at which the bearers letting fall Carlo's chair, run hastily forth all but Carlo, who lies sprawling on the ground, to him enters one disguized in a dreadful shape representing the devil. Dev. 
— Prepare— prepare  
I come to bear  
Thy body where  
No eye shall e'er  
Behold thee more, but those that share  
With thee in everlasting care.  Car. 
— Oh!— Oh!— I cannot rise,  
Some good body save me from the spirit.  Dev. 
Come— come away,  
Hell hates delay,  
I sent the day,  
And dare not stay,  
Lest light my ugly form betray,  
Ghosts may not see what mortals may.  Theocrine above. 
Be gone foul fiend, there are some saving drops  
Of mercy yet hang over him and stops  
Thy eager haste.  Dev. 
Oh do not wast  
Thy time i'th' air, heaven his eternal doom  
Hath sealed with orphans blood, but will no room  
For such damn souls admit,  
Thou art called up to sit  
circled with glory 'mongst the blissful thrones,  
But he cast down, down, where in hollow groans  
His sins shall still complain.  The. 
Tears will wash off their stain,  
There needs no flames to purge them Live— live then  
But only to repent on earth— which when  
Performed, come rest with me.  Car. 
Where art? oh let me see.  The. 
That is not in my power to grant— to thin  
Unbodied air I am resolved, which in  
This region only hovers  
Till time and fate discovers  
What will become of thee.  Dev 
What but to go  
with me where floods of flaming sulphur flow,  
Through dark and souty caves,  
Where endless madness raves,  
Where living flame in everlasting night  
Still dying burns, but burning gives no light?  
The busy Furies there  
His restless bed prepare  
Of molten gold spread o'er with burning flakes,  
Curtained with horror, and begirt with Snakes.  
Then cease, and hast unto  
Those white souls that have flew  
Above my reach, which I have only power  
To envy not to hurt.  The. 
But can the hour  
Not be a while prolonged?  Dev. 
Then destiny were wronged.  Shaking his chains he runs towards him, at which enter the Priest in his pontifical ornaments, as he begins to read, the devil roaring runs forth. Pri. 
I thought thou durst not stand-to encounter with So brave an enemy as this.  A noise within, at which Carlo rising runs halting forth. Ex. Priest. Enter Vanlore, Theocrine, and two Bandeets. Van. 
They're gone— and too much frighted to return in haste.  The. 
Our plot hath equal to our wishes thrived.  Van. 
I am indebted— brave Bandeets to you,  
But will requite it in the like attempt  
When e'er occasion shall require my aid.  1 Ban. 
We are so much your creatures Sir, that 'tis  
The child of duty, when our gratitude  
Offers all service to so loved a master.  Van. 
Time will admit but small commerce of words,  
My actions still shall speak me yours—  The. 
Dear Vanlore let's be gone;  
They will pursue as soon as they've collected  
Their yet unrallied spirits.  Van. 
Thou art the loadstone Theocrine, by whose  
Attractive power the compass of my thoughts  
Directed by thy wit, their Needle, steers  
My almost shipwrecked hopes, into a safe  
And quiet harbour of content. Ex. om.  Enter Oroandes alone reading a note. Oro. 

— The hour five— the place the plain beneath the  
Hermit's rock.  
I have not missed in either circumstance,  
Unless my haste anticipated time— it yet is not full five  
— The morning hath not lost her virgin blush  
Nor step, but mine soiled the earths tinseled robe.  
— How full of heaven this solitude appears,  
This healthful comfort of the happy swain,  
Who from his hard, but peaceful bed roused up  
In's morning exercise saluted is  
By a full choir of feathered Choristers  
Wedding their notes to the enamoured air.   

Here Nature in her unaffected dress,  
Plaited with valleys and embossed with hills,  
Enchased with silver streams, and fringed with woods,  
Sits lovely in her native russet, whilst  
Lame Art to hide her known deformity  
With painting surfeits each discerning eye.   Enter the King disguized. Oro. 
'Tis he, but strangely changed.  Kin. 
Oroandes, you're now a loyal Subject.  Oro. 
All my ambition ne'er flew higher Sir,  
Then in that region of your thoughts to thrive.  Kin. 
There it was grown to full maturity  
Ere thou wrotest man, my Oroandes, but I must  
Like wanton Nero either ruin all  
The glorious structure of thy hopes, or live  
Imprisoned in thy loyalty, thy life  
Till now my strongest fortress is become  
The fatal engine of my ruin.  Oro. 
— Heaven— what have I done to merit this?  Kin. 
Nothing but been too virtuous, and by that  
Centred affections, which I must remove  
Or shake thee into Chaos.  Oro. 
This language blasts me, sure I have no sin  
Ponderous enough to boy your vengeance up  
Unto this dangerous height. Did I but think  
One Viper lodged in my remotest thought,  
I'd tear each fiber of my heart to find  
The monster forth, and in my blood imbalmed  
Throw it as far as life's short span can reach.  
But heaven my witness is, no flame of zeal  
But hath been yours i'th' second magnitude,  
My vows of kin to those I paid the gods,  
My prayers, but love, and duty, fired into  
A holy Calenture. Yet if all this  
Like a small Stars kind influence governed by  
A regal Planets cross aspects, must drop  
Its fading beams into that house of death  
Your fierce destructive anger, let me show  
The latitude of my obedience, in  
Dying at the command of him for whom  
I only wish to live. Did all my friends  
Look on the object through their tears, the ghost  
Of my dead Mother, capable of grief  
As of eternity, and yet clothed in  
humanity's most frail affections, all  
Those rivulets of sorrow should not wash  
The sanguine stain of my resolves, so they  
If executed could procure a calm  
In this high tempest of your soul.  Kin. 
Thy virtue fathoms not my depth of guilt,  
Such a prevention of my anger would  
Only exchange the active passion for  
Sorrow as insupportable; those characters  
Which must unfold the sables of my soul  
Are in dark hieroglyphics hid, through which  
Thy strength of judgement cannot pierce.  Oro. 
You speak in misty wonders, Sir, such as lead  
My apprehension into wild Meanders.  Kin. 
This will unriddle all our doubts— draw.  Oro. 
Against my sovereign! an act so wicked would  
Re●ort the guilty steel into my breast.  
Fear never yet marbled a coward's blood  
More than obedience mine, that breath hath locked  
In ice the panting channels of my heart,  
No spirits dare from their cold centre move.  Kin. 
Will you deny— when I command?  Oro. 
Pardon me royal Sir; had such a voice  
Legitimated my attempts, I had  
Not paused at the encounter of a danger  
Horrid as all the wars o'th' elements,  
When ruffled into storms could present;  
I would bestride a cloud with lightning charged,  
In's full career affront a thunderboult,  
Leap through the clefts of earthquakes, or attempt  
To prop the ruins of a falling rock,  
Yet count all this my happiness, so I  
Met death in the white robes of loyalty.  
But to encounter such a ghastly foe  
In the black shadow of Rebellion, shakes  
The strongest pillars of my soul. You are my King,  
My King— whose frowns should be  
More dreadful to me, then oraculous truths  
When threatening sudden ruin; your sacred person  
Is circled with divinity, which without reverence  
To touch is sacrilege, to look on sin  
Unless each glance is ushered with a prayer.  
King's are but living/ temples, wherein is  
As in the Nations centre, the chief seat  
Of their protecting God, and shall I then  
Pollute my hands in blood, whose every drop  
Would swell my country's tears into a flood?  Kin. 
Are my attempts prized at so cheap a rate?  
Wears not my sword a danger on its point  
As well as thine?— draw— or I shall conclude  
'Tis fear, not loyalty, that charms thy hand.  Oro. 
This stirs my blood— were you a private man  
That only had his better genius to  
Protect him, though allied to me by all  
The ties of Nature and of friendship, yet  
Being thus far urged, our Swords long since should have  
Made known whose Stars the brighter influence had.  Kin. 
I have unfettered all those legal bonds— draw,  
For thy denying now but sleights my power.  Oro. 
Then— since there's no evasion, Or. draws.  
Witness ye Gods— my innocence is wronged.  
— But gracious Sir— Knelt.  
Before I fall— or stand, less fortunate  
To see you overthrow, oh let me know  
What fate,— what cruel fate hath robbed me of  
The treasures of your love: I never yet  
Sullied my soul with any thought that might  
Deserve your hate, heaven is my faithful witness  
I harbour none of you, but such as are  
More full of zeal than those pure orisons,  
Which martyred Saints mix with their dying groans.  Kin. 
And must such goodness die!— know noble youth,  
I am so far from calling it desert  
In thee, that hath unsheathed my sword, that in  
This midnight storm of fancy, I can shed  
Some drops of pity too, pity to change  
So true a subject for a treacherous guest.  
I come not rashly to attempt thy life,  
But long have struggled with my hot desires,  
Stood fiery trials of temptations, which  
Have sublimated reason till it's grown  
Too volatile to be contained within  
My brain, that overheated Crucible.  
I am diseased, and know no way to health  
But through a deluge of thy blood.  Oro. 
There needs not then this storm to break down  
The bays that verge the crimson sea— this stroke  
Shall open all the sluices of my blood.  Kin. 
Hold— or else thou rob'st me of my fixed resolves.  
— There is a cause—  
Commands me die in the attempt, or kill thee.  Gro. 
Dear Sir, reveal it—  
That ere I fall my penitential tears  
May from that leprous crime expunge my soul.  Kin. 
Alas brave youth, thy innocence needs not  
The layer of a tear, thy candid thoughts  
White as the robes of Angels are, but mine  
The dress of Devils, I that should protect  
Am come to rob my best of subjects, to rob  
Thee of thy dearest treasure; I know thy love  
To fair Eurione inseparable  
As goodness from a deity— yet must  
Deprive thee of this darling of thy soul.  Oro. 
With pardon, royal Sir, I cannot think  
The Cyprian Princess is so soon forgot,  
With whom compared, my poor Eurione  
Though bright to me, to more discerning eyes  
Shine dim as the pale Moon when she lets fall  
Through a dark grove her melancholy beams.  Kin. 
Dorst thou affect her, yet dispraise a beauty  
That in its orb contracts divinity?  
This profanation, what had else been sin  
Will render meritorious— guard thyself.  They fight, Antellus wounded. Oro. 
— Ha— thou bleedest.  Kin. 
Oh but too slowly— if your wound admits  
No other medicine, this will near be balm.  Fight again, the King wound. Oro. 
I doubt that thrust—  Kin. 
It was a gentle one, and hath concluded  
The business that we met for.  
Now we are friends again; friends till death. Fals.  Oro. 
Oh do not faint,  
Call up your spirits Sir, there yet is hopes of life.  Kin. 
None— my vital powers fail— they're heavy leads,  
My eyes are bowing to eternal night,  
My heart beats thick alarms, yet can rally  
No troops of scattered spirits— oh— oh!— I faint.  Oro. 
And I grow wild with horror, wilder than  
A flame provoked by angry winds.  
— What shall I do? or whither fly,  
To leave behind me this pursuing guilt?  A noise within. Kin. 
— Oh— oh— be gone— be gone Oroandes.  
Some company draws near.  
Mayst thou live long and happy in the embraces  
Of her, whom I unjustly strove to have.  
My dying wishes waits upon your joys.  Oro. 
Angels attend your latest hour, I go  
From hence, but to my everlasting woe. Ex. Oroandes.  Enter four Bandeets. 1. Ban. 
'Sdeath! I'll not lose my share.  2. Ban. 
Nor I, by heaven, although I search  
For what's my own through my opposers blood.  3. Ban. 
'Swounds! what d'ye quarrel for trifles?  
Pox on you for covetous Rascals, take all mine.  4. Ban. 
And mine too, so you will be content.  1. Ban. 
Another prize, the spoil of this will reconcile us.  2. Ban. 
He bleeds— Sh-ho— he stirs not, let's strip him.  3. Ban. 
There's life in him— let's bear him off.  
I have heard the captive Lady speak of a precious Cordial she hath, if it recover him, his ransom may be better worth than these gaudy clothes—  4. Ban. 
Here, lend your hands.  They lay the body on a cloak, and ex. Enter Buff. and Gudg. Buf. 
Oh Gudgeon we are undone, there is no recovering of her— what shall I do for another wife?  Gud. 
Shall I let her cry Master?  Buff. 
Ah, do good careful servant, some of these honest people may chance to know of her, aloud good Gudgeon.  Mounts on a stool. Gud. 
— Oh yes— oh yes— oh yes  
If any man— in City— Town— or country,  
Can tell any tidings of a strayed Lady.  Enter Arratus and Carlo. Arr. 
What's this? A hobby-horse dance?  Buff. 
Oh no Sir— good nuncle be quiet—  
My man Gudgeon is only making known my loss.  Arr. 
Is this thy grief, unpolished clown?  Buff. 
Why should I cry myself as long as I had a man?  Arr. 
Thou art a scandal which will ever stick  
Like a corroding cancer on my name  
— Be gone— Kicks him.  
Back to thy rustic father, and there spend  
Thy time 'mongst beasts less savage than thyself.  Buff. 
Why then farewel, a turd for all such nuncles.  
Come Gudgeon we'll e'en go home to plow again.  Gud. 
Ay, and whistle better tunes then ere we learned at Court. Ex. Buff. and Gudg.  Enter a Messenger. Car. 
Oh save me brother,  
Here comes the ghost.  Mess. 
My Lord Arratus, you are suddenly expected at the Court.  Arr. 
Why good friend?— what's the matter?  Mess. 
The King and my Lord Oroandes are missing.  Car. 
How! lost!— I hope my daughter's messenger hath not transported them, was it a ghost carried them away friend? speak man— I hear them still.  Mess. 
I come not to jest Sir, my Lord, are you ready?  Arr 
I will follow thee— how am I perplexed?  
Come brother I will see you to your Chamber.  Car. 
We will not go through the Gallery,  
The place smells of Brimstone. Ex. om.  Enter Zannazarro, Glorianda, and Eurione. Zan 
How sad a change is this! this morning was  
Appointed for more joyful enter views.  Glo. 
When last night's slumbers robbed our wakeful hopes  
Of the delicious births of fancy, 'twas  
With fairer promises, else our closed eyes  
Had not been then made floudgates to these tears.  
— Poor Eurione, I fain would comfort thee,  
But my own griefs make me a stranger to  
— That balmy language.  Zan. 
Dear Sister— thy passions are too violent,  
The messengers are not yet all returned,  
Not have we spoke with Arratus, some of which  
— May happily bring news of them.  Glo. 
They may Eurione, stifle thy passions until then.  Enter Arratus. Zan. 
My Lord, you either come to share in grief  
With us, or ease ours by some blessed discovery.  
— You've heard what royal mineral let fly this damp.  Arr. 
Our sovereign's lost.  Glo. 
Too sad a truth.  Arr. 
My largest intelligence lies within the walls of the  
City, and there he hath not been yet heard of.  
Is none with him my Lord?.—  Zan. 
Yes, Oroandes—  Arrr. 
I will go have the City searched.  Eur. 
That hath already proved a fruitless labour.  
Vain as the glimmerings of our hope, they're gone  
Beyond the reach of our industrious care,  
Some cruel fate hath laid an ambush to  
Betray the strength of all our joys in them.  Enter a Messenger. Zan. 
Here comes our last of hopes, speak thy success.  Mess. 
Not good my Lord, we've traversed all the fields  
That circle lofty Erix, and yet seen  
No cheerful beam of wished intelligence,  
We left no traveller unasked, no Cottage lay  
So unfrequented but we found it out,  
And into strict examination took  
Its rustic honour. Yet our journey was  
Oft by the dangerous excursions of  
Troops of Bandeets obstructed, safe from whom  
Our speed not strength conveyed us, all we found  
Worthy to fix an observation, was  
A place beneath the hermit's rock, which stained  
With store of blood, did by that blush confess  
So late a guilt, no cloud had since 'twas shed  
Dropped tears enough to wash it off, we searched,  
The purple grass, but no vestigia found,  
‛ Less this may do it, to inform us whence it came.  Shows a bloody handkerchief which they find to be the Kings. Eur. 
Oh my Prophettique fears!  Zan. 
Our Sorrows are confirmed.  Glo. 
They are, in bloody characters.  Arr. 
I will go and secure the citadel, and cry treason▪  Ex. Arratus. Zan. 
— Sorrow outgrowes all my resolves.  Eur. 
And my heart rends with this divided grief.  Zan. 
This is an act of these untamed Bandeets,  
These plagues of Sicily, but if the force  
Of Syracuse can bay their power, we'll have  
Their heads to build a temple o'er his grave.  
The end of the fourth Act.   

Actus Quintus.  The King led in by a bandit, Heroina preparing to dress him. Kin. 
drop reg've now got strength enough to render thanks  
Unto the fair preserver of my life.  
— Were is she Sir?  Her. 
Here, ready to second my first weak endeavours.  Kin. 
They then were strengthened by some power above  
The common reach of art, my weakness else  
Had yet confined me to my sickly bed.  He sits whilst she dresses him. Ban. 
Let me assist you Lady—  Her. 
Your change of colour argues faintness Sir,  
This will recall your spirits— Gives him a Cordial.  
D'ye feel no alteration?  Kin. 
Yes my spirits stir, as if they would shake off  
The sluggish weight of weakness, I am grown  
Active as if the vigorous strength of youth  
And health were wedded in my heart, my blood  
Runs as it scorned to be confined within  
The channels of my veins, yet is allayed  
By th'even temper of my soul. Sure this  
Rare cordial was some deities rich gift.  Her. 
The fit to be given to those they love,  
For such you are, else my poor medicines had  
Ne'er thus effected miracles.  Ban. 
Am I no longer useful here? if not,  
My business calls me hence.  Kin. 
Sir I should wrong your courtesy to draw  
You from the front of time, if aught that may  
Concern yourself commands you hence.  Ban. 
Then I will take my leave.  Kin. 
My thanks attend you Sir. Ex. Band.  Her. 
How much in every turning of the ●ie  
Doth he resemble my heroic love? Aside.  Kin. 
You're sad sweet Lady.  Her. 
I have a cause, and such a one that did  
You know, your goodness would commiserate  
My wretched fortune.  Kin. 
Reveal it Lady, I perhaps may be  
Enabled then to give your Cordials back  
In some such courtesy as may deserve  
To be a thankful handmaid unto yours.  Her. 
I was resolved to weep away my time  
In private sorrow, but discovery can  
Not aggravate my woe, besides I may  
Venture to lodge a secret, where I have found  
Such temperate virtues the souls portals bar,  
I'll only with this question usher in  
My own discovery, ●s Sicily your place  
Of birth or not?  Kin. 
It is, and breeding both.  Her. 
I'll not demand what were the Parentage  
Where I find virtues plant Nobility,  
Yet would be loath to a Plebeian breast  
To trust what I must now divulge.  Kin. 
You may be confident, I am a Gentleman  
As well by birth as education Lady.  Her. 
I do presume it Sir, and therefore wish,  
Of all I now remain amongst to be  
Known unto you alone—  
You never had relation to the Court?  Kin. 
There was my breeding.  Her. 
Near the person of the King?  Kin. 
One of his bedchamber, and 'tis no boast  
To say as well beloved of him as any,  
There being in the opinion of the Court  
A near resemblance of our looks.  Her. 
Then sure my name is not a stranger to you,  
Have you not heard of the Cyprian Princess?  Kin. 
The beauteous Heroina.  Her. 
The wretched Heroina, such I'm sure  
Is my condition in my present state.  Kin 
Pardon this child of ignorance, my rude Kneels.  
And unbecoming boldness.  Her. 
Rise Sir, we are companions yet,  
And hope we shall be, till your royal Master  
Possess, what was long since intended his;  
By what disaster I was cast upon  
This dreadful precipice of danger, as  
We are withdrawing I'll relate, but not  
To tempt a danger stay you longer here.  Kin. 
Your care can have no satisfaction but  
A loyal servants prayers. Ex. om.  Enter Oroandes and a Surgeon. Gro. 
Not find the body sayst?—  Sur. 
No Sir— yet by the large effusion of his blood  
Had a too sad assurance of the place,  
Some Mountaineers have certainly c●nveyed  
His body thence to burial; those bloody characters  
Are arguments of no less ill than death.  Oro. 
— Then I am lost eternally— lost to all  
That bears a show of goodness, heaven, and earth  
Will both strive to forget they ever knew  
A soul desormed with wickedness like mine.  
— My feverish sins dry up the dews of mercy  
In their descent, and blast all virtue that  
Approaches near me, I shall never find  
A Saint in heaven, or Fiend on earth but will,  
As a dire prodigy, created to  
Scatter infection through the world, forsake  
My ha●ed company, as fit to mix  
With none but the society of Devils.  Sur. 
Sir I wish I in aught flie could serve you.  Oro. 
I thank thee friend— Ex Surgeon.  
— Heaven—  
What an unwieldy monster am I grown  
Since by this act swelled to a regicide—  
— Oh my accursed stars that only lent  
Your influence to light me to damnation,  
Not all my penitential tears will e'er  
Wash off the spots from my stained soul, this gangrene  
Is cured by no Lixivium but of blood.  
My heart is lodged within a bed of Snakes  
Such as old fancies armed the Furies with.  
Conscience waits on me like the frighting shades  
Of ghosts when ghastly messengers of death.  
My thoughts are but the enforced retreats  
Of tortuted reason to a troubled fancy.  
— ha!— am I surprised—  Enter Surgeon. Sur. 
Sir not by me, I only finding that  
You were much troubled at this accident,  
Am come to lend you my assistance in  
Concealing of your person, until by  
The mediation of your friends you may  
Open these harsh obstructions of your fate.  Oro. 
This is a courtesy I never merited  
Either from heaven, or thee their messenger.  
My hopes are yet not wholly ruined, I will  
Along with thee, and in some dark disguise  
Expect the clouded rays of better things.  Ex. Sur. and Oroandes. Enter Vanlore, Theocrine, and Bandeets. Van. 
Now Theocrine I boldly may engage  
My promise for thy safety, we are past  
All habitable places—  The. 
Were not thy company my best security,  
This deserts wild inhabitants would fright  
Me more than all my father's Scouts, to whom  
Without a blush my innocence would dare  
Disrobe my actions, now I fear no fate  
So sad as the preventing my desires.  Van. 

Thou art the joy and comfort of my life;  
More cheerful than the sun's society  
To winter starved Scythians;— Come my Love  
This bed of Violets courts us to repose.  
Now,— now within the circle of my arms  
I grasp a gem, by me more prized than all  
The worlds five zones embraces, now we live  
I'●h' upper sphere of fancy, and spin out  
The evenest threads of all our mortal web.  
These are the sugared minutes of our lives,  
The balmy drops that cure the minds sad wounds.   

Since man lost Paradise, he knew no place  
To emblem heaven, but in a woman's face.   The. 
Why thou art wanton friend, this is discourse  
For Love that hath not out-grown infancy,  
Ours now is too mature—  Van. 
Nor ever will, when we are both grown old,  
Thy polished ivory furrowed over with age  
In silver robes on beauties ruins placed  
Our mutual wonder still shall last, but I  
Must bind up all the gaudy flowers of love  
In threads of admiration, no epithets  
Such fragrant virtues separated from  
The general name of good, can e'er again  
Pick out and bind them in due praises up.  The. 
I can be well content to hear thee talk  
On any argument, but a less pleasing  
Thou couldst not well have taken. Enter a bandit.  Ban. 
'Sdeath! Captain, what d'ye mean?  
This is no place of safety, the ways are all beset  
With troops of horse, our Scouts beat in from all parts  
Wounded and bloody, if we all betake not ourselves  
To our arms we are lost in an instant.  The. 
Oh prithee Vanlore hasten hence.  Van. 
I only fear thy safety. Ex. om.  Enter two Bandeets wounded. 1. Ban. 
S death! we must be gone.  2. Ban. 
'tis not our use to run.  1. Ban. 
Pox on't, the odds is unreasonable.  2. Ban. 
'Swounds, I think they have horsed all the Carters in the country, the thick skined rogues my Rapier could hardly pierce them.  2. Ban. 
But theirs pierced us, I have a wound here yawns like a Dragon— let's hasten to a Surgeon.  Enter a bandit bleeding and false. 3. Ban. 
Hell perish all the slaves,  
I'm killed by a rustic dog.  
And what torments me most, fall unrevenged.  1. Ban. 
Poor Brother we would help thee, but want it ourselves.  3. Ban. 
Yet bear me from the villains, and if your time  
Permits, bury me like a soldier, I was born  
Of noble parentage, but drove by want  
To these unlawful courses, and have this,  
This for my punishment— One hollows within.  2. Ban. 
Hark— 'swounds, we shall be surprised  
Here right ere long—  They bear off him that fell, and ex. om. Enter Heroina alone. Her. 
What desperate wretches do I live amongst?  
Terror alarms them from every side,  
Their Scouts bring no intelligence but death  
Approaching at their backs, and yet  
They bathe in riot, and with bloody oaths  
Stab heaven betwixt each word they speak, their prayers  
Are only for damnation, though they breathe  
Their souls forth with that fearful wish.  Enter a bandit drunk. 1. Ban. 
— Damn me— A short life and a merry.  
'Swounds if we die— we die— let's be  
Merry whilst we live—  Her. 
I tremble at this villain's sight. Offers to go forth.  1. Ban. 
Whether now doxy— 'sdeath! you  
Whore come hither— Pox on your squeamish face,  
Lie down— or I'll cut thy throat.  Her. 
You will not offer to abuse me thus.  1. Ban. 
Damn me, I'll do'c, and thou wert my sister,  
Thy puling shall not save thee.  Her. 
Upon my knees I beg thee not to touch me.  1. Ban. 
Thou wilt be heard better lying upon thy back.  Her. 
Thou knowest not whom thou injurest;  
— I am a Princess.  1. Ban. 
The better, than the boy I beget will be noble  
By the mother's side— 'swounds, will you not bend?  Her. 
Is none more civil near?  Enter the King. Kin. 
What villainy is this,—  
Forbear unhallowed slave, Snatches forth the Bandeets sword.  
This weapon shall revenge her if thou durst  
Abuse her with the least uncivil touch.  Enter two Bandeets. 1. Ban. 
'Swounds, help me here,  
This rascal hath got my sword.  2. Ban. 
Dares the thawed snake to sting?  
Deliver him his sword—  Kin. 
I will, so you will promise he shall use  
It not to force resistless women's honour,  
As late he did attempt this noble Virgins,  
And if by me not timely rescued had  
Made it the prize of his oremastering strength.  3. Ban. 
Must you Sir make conditions? They both draw and lay at him.  Whilst they are fighting, enter Vanlore and Theocrine. Van. 
What is the cause of this?  
Sheath your Swords, that man  
That dares proffer another blow,  
Forfeits his life for tribute to my sword.  Her. 
This was a timely rescue, and hath by  
The fair redemption of my honour, more  
Than satisfied all those arrears, your life  
Deed stand engaged in to my useful art.  Kin. 
The brightest stars that rule my fate did light  
Me to the blessed employment, but had all  
Set ere their influence had attained its end,  
Had not this gentleman's assistance lent  
New vigour to their fading beams.  Her. 
I must confess a debt of thanks to him,  
Which if irregular opinion prove  
No enemy to his own safety, shall  
Be suddenly discharged— You may perceive Sir  
How black a storm waits on the lives of all  
Your wild associates, wherefore if you have  
An overswaying power amongst them, choose  
The now presented opportunity  
To free you from all future fears, which thus  
I'll light you to, draw up your company,  
And let those persecutors of my honour be  
My convoy to the Court, you'll find a Prince  
To be entreated, when your advocate  
Bears Heroinaes' name.  Vanlore knelt. Van. 
Pardon me best of women, and impute  
My rudeness, to my ignorance,  
If any service can extenuate  
Crimes of such monstrous growth, our bloods shall pay  
The forfeit of our disobedience, in  
The not performing it.  Her. 
Your hopes of safety prompts me to believe.  
— Come Sir— you shall attend us to the Court.  Kin. 
I am your vassal Madam, proud to have  
Such a command to usher my desires. Ex. om.  Enter Oroandes alone in the habit of a forester. Oro. 

— Not yet— not yet at quiet— no disguise  
Is dark enough to curtain o'er my guilt,  
Pale as the ghastly looks of men condemned  
It sits upon my Conscience. I see there is  
No place affords that soul a safe retreat  
That is pursued by a sharp-sented sin.  
The prosperous murderer that hath clothed his guilt  
In royal ermines, all those furs of state  
Cannot preserve from trembling, he looks on  
Dejected wretches, as assassinate's,  
And each petition for a poniard fears.  
— Yet these are more secure than I, they may  
Pretend to merit in their wickedness,  
And call their crimes the cure of sickly states;   

But I am left no refuge, less to know  
The depth of horror can no further go.  
— Alas poor virtue, all thy white winged zeal  
Is wrought into a bed of sables, since  
Leaving thy heavenly dictates I betrayed  
Myself unto these sooty guards of hell,  
Whose black inhabitants already call  
Me one of their society;— my eyes  
Are grown more killing than the Basilisks,  
And each vein filled with poison, since these hands,  
These cursed hands were stained with royal blood.  
— ha— all this is true—  
But do I want more desperation yet?  
Are there not fiends enough now waiting on me  
To guide my trembling hand until it reach  
The centre of my life?— Draws a sword from behind the curtain.  
This fatal weapon slew my Prince  
— This was his blood that stains it,—  
The blood that warmed those brows a crown embraced  
— Let forth by me t'embalm the earth, and in  
Warm vapours spend the precious breath of life,  
Which mounting upwards sent perfumes to heaven;—  
— But now thou must be dipped in that which will  
Leave a perpetual rust upon thy steel  
More fretting than a canker.— blast all that near it grows,  
And as it cools infect the ambient air  
With blasts more deadly than the steams of hell—  
— How it pants to come forth!—   Sets the Sword to his breast. 

— Ha!— something stays my hand  
My better Angel sure hath left me quite  
— How e'er I will not do it,  
Although that every blast of air I draw  
Be more tormenting than the gasps of death.—  
— No, I will live— live till disvelloped guilt  
Makes me a public spectacle of hate— and then  
Fall with my sins about me, when each tongue  
Adds to their ponderous weight a full mouthed curse.  
— The subtle spirits, that like lightning fly  
Thorough my blood, hath yet not suffered me  
To parley with sleep since th' unhappy act,  
— I find them something calmed, and will attempt  
To reconcile them in this gentle shade.   Lies down, having lain still a while enter two Bandeets. 1. Ban. 
We have lost our company.  2. Ban. 
No matter, we shall find the way to Court,  
I fear nothing but how we shall do to live honest.  1. Ban. 
The place requires it not, at most 'twill be Enough to seem so.  2. Ban. 
Though we never used it much, I doubt not  
But hypocrisy is an art easily learned.  1. Ban. 
Come let's hasten, I would willingly see thee  
Between the King and the captive Princess.  2. Ban. 
Her captivity is like to be our redemption.  1. Bad. 
If it prove not so, we must dance off the  
Stage in a halter— What do they call her name?  2. 
Heroina— daughter to the Cyprian king,  
Betrothed to ours a long time since, when he  
Was abroad in his travels.  1. Ban. 
'Twill be a joyful meeting unto them.  2. Ban. 
Had we not had ill luck, a bandit had been his  
Taster.-.- They discover Oroandes.  
How now, what have we here  
— So ho— what art?—  1. Ban. 
Tush, some drunk forester, let him alone.  Ex. Bandeets. Oroandes rises. Oro. 
Heroina!— A Princess!  
— And carrying to the Court by Bandeets!  
It is the unhappy Lady that was betrothed  
Unto my murthered sovereign— lighted on  
In their excursions by these rennegadoes.  
— Poor Lady— I have spoilt her entertainment there;  
— But I will follow them, and with my blood  
Crimson the sables that must cloud the day. Ex. Oroan.  Enter Arratus, servants setting forth two thrones, the one richly adorned, the other covered in mourning, before the black throne a table, on which a Crown is laid on a mourniug cushion, before the other throne is placed the picture of the King. Arr. 
Come— come— see all things in order  
The Princess is at hand— fie— fie,  
This is an unexpected trouble—  
— A way you gross witted rascal— dost not see  
We strive to paint our sorrow in chequered work,  
But this 'tis when women sit at the helm of state,  
They square all Court entertainments to the fashion  
Of the last Romance they heard. Shout and acclamations within.  
Hark, they are entered the  
Palace, I hear the Cannon—  
Go off from the Forts— be gone— and make way.  Loud music, the Lord high marshal, his white rod wreathed in black ribbon, next him, the King and Vanlore leading Heroina, her train born up by Theocrine. At the other door( whilst a soft and melancholy music plays within) Zannazarro, Glorianda, and Eurione all in mourning; Zannazarro knelt, and having kissed Heroina's hand is raised by her, she saluting the other Ladies. Zan. 
The best of welcomes this sad place affords  
Waits on your grace's entertainment.  Glo. 
And we● to do what service lies within  
The verge of our endeavours—  Her. 
I thank you both sweet Ladies, and must first  
employ your service in declaring what▪  
These silent emblems of a sorrow mean.  
I have not seen grief in the like disguise,  
The laurel and the funeral Cypress here  
Have wreathed their ill met branches, and contends  
Whose leaves shall Crown the Syracusian queen.  Zan. 
wil't please you ascend your throne, and there  
Lend your attention to the saddest story  
That ere did yet Siciliaes' Annals blot?  She ascends the throne. Zannazarro draws the curtain from before it, and discovers the picture of the King. Zan. 
Behold, great Princess,  
All but the memory of his living fame  
Of Syracusiaes' Monarch. She sounds and false from the throne.  Glo. 
Oh help— help the Princess.  Eur. 
Madam— dear Madam.  Her. 
Oh— oh— God—  Arr. 
Bear her forth, and give her more air.  Her. 
Hold— I am better here— if any thing  
Revive my spirits, 'twill be this that puts  
Me in the mind of my deceased Lord.  
— Unhappy woman, first to know— then love,  
Engage thy faith, yet never to enjoy!  Enter Oroandes in his own habit. Her. 
Why stand you thus amazed 〈◊〉  Zan. 
Pardon us Maclam— had the united dust  
Of some dead friend, whose memor 〈…〉 ●ear forgot,  
Visited earth in his known shape again,  
Our wonder could not have arrived unto  
A higher pitch—  
Let me embrace thee friend▪  Eur. 
— My dearest Or 〈…〉—  Oro. 
Stand off— yet farther off;  
You know not what you touch,  
You safer far may grapple with a flame,  
Or in his midnights walk affront a fiend  
Armed with full vials of destructive wrath.  
The graves inhabitants, when folded in  
Corruption, are not more defiled than I.  Zan. 
What tends this language to?  Oro. 
Destruction— Zannazarro.  Eur. 
How hast thou lost thy temper Oroandes?  
P●ithee look on me friend, or am I grown  
A stranger to thy knowledge?—  Oro. 
Leave me Eurione, thou art of kin  
Unto those hallowed Angels that did once  
Attend my actions, and must now with them  
A stranger to thy Oroandes grow.  Eur. 
Neglected thus!— Alas— where shall I weep?  Her. 
You are to me a stranger Sir, yet in  
Your look I something read that may concern  
Your absent Prince, collect those scattered spirits  
Now roving in confusion, and relate it.  Oro. 
I would, but that it hath a sound so full  
Of trembling horror, 'twill unnerve your joints,  
— Yet I must do't, no other way can lead  
My soul from out this wilderness of flesh  
— He's murdered.  Zan. 
— By whom?—  Oro. 
This cursed hand; d'ye start?  
I thought 'twould strike the blood out of your cheeks,  
And make you paler than the act made me.  
'Twas I—'twas I, that when your blooming hopes  
Cheered with the sun of Majesty, were grown  
Big with expected favours, did eclipse  
The glorious light in a black cloud of death.  
I cut the heartstrings of the Land, and fed  
The groaning earth with blood, whose purple had  
Been by an ancient stock of ancestors  
Died into royalty.  Van. 
Ingrateful slave, why are our swords so slow  
— To execute the villain?  Eur. 
Oh hold, believe him not— he raves,  
These are the births of a distempered brain.  Oro. 
Thou hast but injured me Eurione  
In staining their just fury— farewel,  
Rest in Elizium whilst I roar in hell. Eurione fals.  Zan. 
— Oh brother, if this be true, thou hast undone us all.  Oro. 
True— do not think  
'Tis any natural distemper that  
Spreads this malignant vapour through my veins,  
Which nought but th' poison of my guilt corrupts.  
— No I have done it brother,  
And you are all bound as you love your Prince  
To see't revenged with torments, here's a note  
Will when I'm dead direct you where to find him.  
And now drop reg've done my business on the earth,  
I'll give the first stroke to revenge, and here Sets the Sword to his breast.  
Open a passage for your Swords to enter.  As he is offering to stab himself the King stays his hand. Oro. 
What bold hand is that?  Kin. 
One that here may claim a privilege, Throws off his disguise.  
— Rise thou mirror of true loyalty,  
— ne'er higher in our favour.  They all kneel. All. 
Our gracious sovereign!—  
— Welcome— oh welcome royal Sir!  Kin. 

You are all my much loved Subjects, such in whom  
Never was king more blessed— Madam  
Your presence crowns our blessings— now I stand  
Exalted in the zenith of my fate.  
Who would not pass a stormy night, to be  
Thus courted by a lovely glorious day?  
— You all are sharers in my heart,  
— But thou my Love— To Heroina.  
The great commandress of that royal fort.  
— Off with these night pieced curtains, no such vail  
Shall cloud the perfect beauty of our joys.   Pulls off the black from the throne. 

Ascend this throne, a place too humble for  
Virtues so near allied to heaven as thine.   

Now you expect the story of my fate  
In Syracus●s seeming Widowhood,  
But the full sea of pleasure cannot yet  
Contract its swelling waves, tumultuous joys  
Cannot be reconciled into discourse,  
Till Hymen's topour to possession lights  
Our just desires, that eldest child of hope.  
— I only have a promise to perform  
Before you all unto this Gentleman,  
And then will hasten to discharge the Arrears  
〈…〉 and engaged in to your loyalty.   

— Are the Prisoners ready?   Van. 
They wait at the door Sir.  Kin. 
Go fetch them in, thou must my dear Ent. 2 bandits leading Carlo.  
Meet my first known embraces, in the seat  
Of long neglected Justice, set forth the Prisoners.  
— My Lord— read the Indictment—  Reads. 
Vincentio Carlo, you are here accused of a murder committed on a Syracusian Gentleman, his name Vanlore, the act done by two soldiers whom you hired in the Camp at the siege of Ardenna: Guilty or not guilty?  Car. 
Not guilty and please your good Grace, alas I never knew the man, I!— therefore I beseech your Majesty to be good to me, I am a poor ignorant man, and full of grief for the loss of my only daughter—  Kin. 
That will be proved an act of your own,— Read on.  Reads. 
My Lord Arratus, you are here accused to be of confederacy with Signior Carlo in the murder of his daughter Theocrine.  Arr. 
Who I!— why I!— who dares?  Kin. 
Bandeets lay hold of him, where are the witnesses?  Enter two officers leading Creon and Lewcippus going lame and bound about the head. Cre. 
Oh— oh— so weak, I am hardly able to go to the Bar.  Lew. 
I doubt we shall find it a harder march  
To the gallows, but this I may thank thy villainy for.  Cre. 
Thou liest Rascal, thou promptedst me to all.  Kin. 
Read their accusations.  Reads. 
Creon and Lewcippus, you are hear accused for murdering Vanlore, at the siege of Ardenna, and being accessary to the death of Theocrine, daughter to Vincentio Carlo; Guilty or not guilty?  Cre. 
Not guilty— my Lord, I confess I was with this villain Lewcippus hired to do it, by this wretched Carlo, but had no hand in the murder, it was Lewcippus committed it.  Lew. 
I hope your Majesty will not believe him,  
For the Varlet is composed of falsehood,  
In the death of Vanlore he was as far forth  
As myself, but for the loss of Theocrine  
We neither of us had any hand in it,  
It was a plot contrived by Carlo, and my Lord  
Arratus, but for what ends we know not.  Arr. 
I hope my good service to your Majesty  
Hath merited better than to have my reputation  
To be called in question by a common Rogue.  
I protest I will sue the rascal for a slander,  
— I will slave— by mine honour I will.  Kin. 
Swear not my Lord, by what you have abused;  
Honour( that venerable title) was  
Slain when to'th law you forfeited your life,  
Bleeding to death at those unworthy wounds  
Which these low actions to high titles gave.  
— Stand all forth, and attend your doom.  Car. 
Be merciful— oh good my Liege, be merciful.  Arr. 
'Swounds! I see I shall be cheated of my head.  Kin. 
Your actions merit none, yet since it is  
The best companion of a Judge, we'll in  
Her virgin zone the sword of Justice wear.  
— Discover yourselves— Pulls off the veil from Theocrine, at which Vanlore discovers himself.  
Here are the witnesses, brought to affirm our accusation.  Car. 
Oh let me go— they are Spirits,  
Ghosts— Hobgoblins— I will not stay,  
This is some enchanted place.  1. Ban. 
Nay Sir, you are too fast to stir.  Arr. 
'Sdeath! what jugling's this?  Vanlore and Theocrine kneel to Carlo. Van 
Sir recollect your spirits— and bestow  
A blessing on us, both your children now.  Car. 
Nay it is no point of my Religion to pray for the dead.  The. 
Sir we still live, and live to want your prayers.  Car. 
I want my money more that these two Rogues have  
Cozened me of, I hope your charity will  
Make them restore it again, I am  
An old man and like to come to want,  
And every one hales what he can catch from me.  Kin. 
Cursed Miser, the Law will free thee from the fear of want;  
For though thy damned intentions did not wade  
So far as action into guilt— thy life  
Is forfeited for the intended sin. Vanlore and Theo. knelt.  The. 
If we were ever gracious in your eyes,  
Let us beg pardon for him.  Kin. 
Their lives are yours, yet justice must not be  
Robbed of all interest in them, for your sakes  
We'll miti gate their punishments. All Carloes wealth,  
That devil which did tempt him to this sin,  
Being by the Law made forfeit unto us,  
We with his daughter, the fair Theocrine,  
Wholly bestow on Vanlore.  Car. 
Oh I am undone— I am undone,  
I had better been hanged out of the way  
Then to have lived to have seen my goods  
Thus gave away before my face.  
— Oh that ever I was born!  Kin. 
For Arratus— because he valued wealth  
More than his honour, he shall ever lose  
Those glorious titles, now grown burdensome  
Unto his age, which may betake itself  
To needful rest, whilst all his places of  
High trust are by the worthier Vanlore managed.  
On whom, as but a just reward unto  
His merits, we bestow them.  Van. 
Your Majesty will by your goodness teach Me future gratitude—  Arr. 
And me perhaps repentance when too late.  Kin. 
For these two villains, the base instruments  
Unto your guilt, since we desire to have  
No blood defile this day's solemnity,  
Let them by public Edict be for ever  
Excluded our Dominions. And now we've sheathed  
The sword of Justice, let me open wide  
The arms of Friendship, unto you that have  
Been masked in this Meander of our fate.  
My debts are great to all, but must remain  
In full arrear, until my offerings paid  
To sacred Hymen, gives me liberty;  
Whose Altars now we'll all prepare to warm  
With the purest flame that ere Sicilia saw.  
Come Heroina, let's conduct them to  
The Temple, where united hands shall prove  
Our cares are conquered by Victorious Love.   
THE END.