WITS Led by the Nose; OR, A POET'S REVENGE: A Tragicomedy, As it is Acted at the Theatre Royal.  
LONDON, Printed for William Crook, at the Green Dragon without Temple Barr, 1678.   

Licenced August 16. 1677. ROGER L'ESTRANGE.   

PROLOGUE, Intended to be spoke by Sir Simon Credulous, Written by F. W. Gent.  A Play Bill discovered upon the Door, Enter like a Country Gentleman. 
WHat's here? never Acted before, Heyday!  
This certainly is some insipid Play.  
Wits lead by the Nose, I Gad I'd best retire,  
They'll find me out to be some Country Squire;  
And then for certain though I'm not a Wit,  
They'll thrust me 'mongst my Brethren in the Pit;  
Where with Debauches, Noise, and little Miss,  
I shall be Martyred worse than Poet is,  
And be obliged for Company to hiss.  
To shun the Danger of th' admiring Crew  
B'w'y Miss, Boy, House, and Brethren all Adieu.  Offers to go, but returns. 
Gad should I stay, they'd cheat me with pretence  
Of a new Play called Country Innocence,  
Or what was worst of all, the Devil take her,  
A Debauched Chambermaid forsooth turned Quaker.  
These little Tricks, so often put on Wits,  
Made me forswear to come in either Pits.  
Midnight's Intrigues, and Conjerer de France,  
Insipid fribling and unruly dance  
So turned my stomach—  
I talk, as if concerned at what they do,  
I Gad Dear Brethren 'tis for none but you.  
It grieves my heart to see you yawn i'th' Pit,  
As if you came for sleep, and not for Wit.  
Another Crew, with good diverting Play,  
Passes the tedious hours of Show away,  
Pumping for wit to manage him next day.  
Gad what with that, ill nature, and worse, W—  
The Actors are quite Acted out of Doors.  
Disease, Impotence, and endless Rage,  
Have been the ruin of this noble Stage.  
I shunned the danger, Gad with much ado,  
To be a Country Wit like some of you.  
The Civil Wars betwixt the Blue, and Red,  
Was but a spice of Pride stolen from the head:  
In Imitation of such growing men,  
They've got the Knack to be undone again:  
Ruins Triumphant, and in Masquerade  
Appears in every Corner to invade  
The easy natured fools, and spoil the trade.  
And will you hear how 'tis? The house is grown  
So out of date to th' ruling Fops o'th' Town,  
That in a Month, I Gad, you scarcely come  
T' applaud, but to debauch i'th' tiring Room;  
Where having whispered your Harmonious Miss,  
You creep into the Pit, and frame a Hiss.  
You think new Plays, such as can please the Age,  
Are not the work of this, but t'other Stage:  
Let us provide even the best we can,  
Here they'll scarce please a Country Gentleman;  
Much less those Huffing Wits, who sans remorse,  
Make down right railing here their common course,  
And Jockie-like, dam the best running Horse.  
In former Ages you came here for Wit,  
Gleaned what best pleased, and then forsook the Pit:  
You think us Barren, and to other's steer,  
And gape for Wit, but find no more than here.  
'Sdeath, not to Plays but Puppet shows you run,  
Sure you're in Love with dear Mrs. such a one,  
And court her shadow ere the Play's begun.  
When you're come here, as Gad 'tis very rare,  
You serve us like the Monsters of the Fair;  
Hiss without reason, dam without control,  
As if you meant to Sacrifice the Soul.  
This strange unkindness has our Stage undone,  
And all that you thought Actor's faith are gone:  
The men to Misses, Places, or Estates,  
The Women to their kind and welcome Fates;  
Thus both at once retiring from the Stage,  
Have left us here the Objects of your Rage.  
To court your kindness were alas but vain,  
You must be Damning though you Dam in pain.  
'Mongst the hard hearted, I good natures spy,  
And kindness dancing in each Lady's eye;  
They to commiserate, not hate, were born,  
I know you are too kind and fair to scorn;  
Your blushing Cheeks good Nature doth betray,  
It lies on you to save, or Dam the Play;  
Our unlearned Author to your doom submits,  
Desirous to be tried by Female Wits:  
If you applaud him all his pains are crowned,  
And he'll defy the huffing Critics round.   


Actor's Names.  
ANtellus, King of Sicilia  
Oroandes, General of his Army  
Zannazarro, a young Lord in Rebellion  
Arratus, an old Courtier  
Vanlore, a Gentleman fallen to decay  
Sir Simon Credulous  
Sir Jasper Sympleton  
Jack maintainer, Servant to Credulous  
Dick Slywit, Servant to Sympleton  
A Shepherd  
A Servant, and a Messenger  
Mr. Goodman.  
Mr. Lydell.  
Mr. Perrin.  
Mr. Watson.  
Mr. Pour.  
Mr. Haynes.  
Mr. Stiles.  
Mr. Nathaniel Q.  
Mr. Coysh.   

Women.  
HEroina, Princses of Regium  
Glorianda, Princess of Cyprus  
Amasia, Sister to Zannazarro  
Theocrine, Daughter to Arratus  
Julia, Theocrines Maid—  
Mrs. Baker, Jun.  
Mrs. Bowtell.  
Mrs. Baker.  
Mrs. F.   
Attendants, Priests, Guards, Spirits, B. n letties, Shepherds and Shepherdesses.  
Scene SICILIA.   

WITS Led by the Nose.  

ACT I.  

SCENE Arratus Lodgings.  Enter Arratus with a Letter in his hand, Sir Simon and Slywit as from Travelling. Arr. 
SIR Simon, without this Letter yourself had been most welcome, and I am bound in honour to your Father (besides the great Engagement of your presence) to do whatever he commands me.  Sym. 
Sir, I cannot but thank you, our English way admits of but few Compliments, and those are grown so tedious to me since I left the Clime, I purpose to forget 'em.  Arr. 
Plain down right deal's the Sicilian fashion, and that I count the best too. But dear Sir Simon make me happy in the knowledge why you left your Nation.  Sym. 
A toy— a frolic— a mere trick I Gad, a vain desire to see this other World, and know what difference is between the Natures of such different Kingdoms.  Arr. 
Your Curiosity ought Sir to be commended and encouraged; but sure some other Reason urged you to Travel, Love, Love, I'll warrant you?  Sym. 
I Gad Love is the only thing I hate, 'tis more offensive to my Constitution, than Arsenic to an Ague. I Gad we are cloyed with it in England; and that which makes me hate it more▪ is, my last Amoretta in the very height of her Embraces not only pick my Pocket, but dealt unkindly by me, and all that. Love, oh out upon't, 'tis the greatest Monster Sir in Nature.  Arr. 
I'm sorry you are so averse to what we count a pleasure; and more since the great hopes I had in such a noble Son, are blasted in their early spring.  Sym. 
I find by my hand, and all that; this old man intends to push a fortune on me.— aside.  
It is my fate Sir, at first I loved like Plato, then like all the World, that is every pretty yielding Beauty; at last by too many enjoyments—  
Pox on 'em I may say— aside.  
I grew so dull, so wearied and so senseless, I Gad I resolved never to love again.  Arr. 
'Tis very strange.  Sym. 
Nor never will, unless Sir to oblige my best of friends, your noble self.  Arr. 
I rest engaged to you. I must confess Sir I have a Daughter, and one whom Nature has rather been prodigal then backward in bestowing Graces. My mind ever designed her (Sir) for you, and to complete what I so long had wished, even from both your Infancies, I let your Father know my whole design, whose heart with mine did willingly agree; there wanting nothing but your riper years, which Heaven bestowing on you both, your Father according to his promise, and my great desire, has sent in you the Centre of my hopes.  Sym. 
I find myself betrayed, betrayed to love I Gad, and whealed already into the bonds of Matrimony, and that's a dangerous task for a Gallant of the times to undertake, especially for one who hath been caught by that religious cheat of Wedlock at least fifteen times; but the best is, the Sicillian and our Laws differ as much as their Constitutions, and for those facts committed there a Gentleman in honour cannot suffer here.— aside. Sir you honour me too much in thus bestowing upon me so great a prize, as your lovely Daughter, who maybe as ugly as the Devil for aught I know. aside.  Arr. 
Had not the great deserts Sir of your Father, besides equality of birth, and friendship, translated to my Soul your noble virtues, this first encounter would have given me sufficient satisfaction of your merits.  Sym. 
My Lord, your praises rise to Ostentation; and to requite you for this noble kindness, if recommencing love will aught oblige you, you may command your Servant.  Arr. 
You make me happy; this grant of yours, pulls back some years from age; my Daughter will be overjoyed at such a Husband, and meet you with the best respects of Love.  Sym. 
Let her be swift in granting, for I Gad if she holds out long, my affections will melt away, and turn into down right hatred, mere slight, neglect, scorn, and so forth.  Arr. 
She's half prepared already, there wants nothing but the grant, the word, I Love, and then the deed is done.  Sym. 
I but that word I have known extended to such a length, that it was impossible to find an end of the resolve. I since my fit of Love's returned, hate all but yielding Females, and to those I fly with as much vigour, as a Novice in the Art of Courtship to his new gained Mistress.  
Let her be pliant, and my fit will last;  
If not—  
As it came swiftly on, it flies as fast.  Arr. 
Come Son, for so I'll call you now; after your tedious journey, rest is needful, than you shall see the only joy I have,  
And from her eyes receive so sweet a fate,  
You'll bless that power, which first did Love create.  Exeunt  

SCENE a City.  Enter Oroandes, two Captains and Soldiers. Oro. 
My King's Commission gives me not only orders to dethrone brave Zannazarro, but to demolish all, to burn his factious Town, and in its Ruins bury the thoughts of Usurpation.  Omnes. 
Heaven crown the action with success.  Oroa. 
My gratitude divides itself amongst you all; the only way of recompense, until some happy beam of opportunity shall light my wishes to a requital of your early loves.— Summon the Rebel. They sound a parl.  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? and though our griefs sit heavy on our Souls, 'tis not of Kin to fear, but we dare draw our Swords ere we have wiped our eyes, and in a peal of Cannon, thunder his Funeral.  Oroa. 
'Tis pity a resolve thus fortified, should unravel all its glory, in an unlawful cause.  Zan. 
Oroandes, you may spare your labour, though we have lost the strongest Citadel of all our hopes, in our dear Father's death, yet we will sell our Lives, at honour's dearest rate, and not fall an humble Sacrifice to death.  Oroa. 
I am sorry Sir, that my advice, proceeding from the love I bear your worth, has missed its wished for ends: Farewell, all happiness but that which waits on victory attend you.  Exeunt below. Zan. 
The like to thee brave Soul, since part we must;  
When next we meet, 'twill be in blood and dust.  Exeunt above. An alarm and fighting within. Enter as in flight Zannazarro and Soldiers, Enter aft er't 'em fighting the first Captain, and Soldiers, they follow Zannazarro and Soldiers off, and then return, Enter to them Oroandes and Soldiers. Oroa. 
Where's Zannazarro?  1 Cap. 
Received into the Town, in spite of all our Force.  Oroa. 
'Sdeath, their Army beaten, and cannot he be Conquered? scale the Walls, kill and burn all, till death be tired with Conquering.  Scene the Walls of the Town, Zannazarro and Soldiers appear upon 'em, Alarm, Oroandes and Soldiers scale the Walls, beat off Zannazarro and Soldiers, and enter the Town, Alarm still, a shout, and then the Scene changes to a Town afire, a noise of shrieks and fighting for a while, and then the Scene changes to a Temple, in which is discovered Amasia kneeling at the Altar with two or three Ladies. Enter a Messenger all bloody. Mess. 
Fly dearest Lady, fly, the day is lost, your noble Brother taken, Wars furious Goddess, fierce Enyo stands over your battered Gates, a dropping pine about her Tresses lends with its dismal light an entrance to the Messengers of Death, the Battlements sweat all in flames, whilst loud confusion fills th' enlightened air.  The Ladies weep. Ama. 
Weep not my dear companions, you have shared alike with me in every change of fortune, if fate ordains this the Catastrophe of all those Tragic Scenes; to us our Virgin innocence shall be protection, safer than th' united Swords of Earth's most powerful Monarchs. Outcries within.  1 Lad. 
Oh they are entering, entering, le's fly dear Madam.  Ama. 
Whether? When slaughter runs through all, where can we find protection?  Enter Oroandes and Soldiers. Oroa. 
Ha!— what place is this?— with what an awful Majesty it looks!— sure it enshrines Deity— what's she?— spies Amasia. with such a face Troy's tutelary Angel looked, when all her Crown of Turrets dropped their flaming heads.  Amasia kneels to Oroandes. Ama. 
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.  Oroandes stands amazed, le's fall his Sword. Oroa. 
A chilling frost unnerves my joints, sure 'tis 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 a much injured Prince, then violate aught which the dictates of my Soul proclaims for sacred.  Ama. 
Oh lead me then to some polluted place that's grown drunk with blood, and there let mine increase the purple deluge; I shall not always be protected by this place's sanctity, or if I were, find few of so much virtue, to be with a Religious reverence awed.  Oroa. 
Do not dear Soul too much afflict yourself, my Power secures you from all future violence, each tear you shed drops from my heart in blood, I'm conquered in this victory, and become a Captive to my prisoner: fear nothing Madam, for your Guardian Angel robed in virginity is not whiter than those thoughts which cloth my Soul, when they reflect on so much suffering virtue: Oh give my passions leave to move within the Orb of your Celestial Beauty, while no line— tends to the Centre of a thought unchaste.  Ama. 
Alas my Lord, this is no time to play with Love, when War and Death sit by and hold the stakes.  Oroa. 
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 redeems you from these cruel frowns of fate, you would with pity then on my afflictions look.  Ama. 
I were ungrateful else, noble Sir; I so much prize your virtues, that if ere my frowning stars smile on my fate again, their powerful influence shall reflect on you, in so much thankful gratitude, you shall acknowledge it the eldest Child of Love.  Oroa. 
My joys grow equal with my wishes;  
Banish all fear since fate so kind doth prove,  
Thus to reward Wars mighty toils with Love.  Exeunt.  

SCENE Arratus Lodgings.  Enter at one door Arratus and Theocrine, at the other Sir Simon and maintainer, Sir Simon dressed Gallantly. Arr. 
Son, you're most nobly welcome, my Daughter I thank my Stars accepts the proffer, and no doubt but both parties will be agreed.  Sym. 
I hope so too Sir, for as I said before I hate a tedious Courtship.  Arr. 
Daughter this is the Gentleman I spoke of, is he not in every thing complete to my description?  Theo. 
Yes Sir,— If gaudy clothes, Powder and Paint can make a Lover, this Monster wants no Graces. aside.  Sym. 
Madam, having the honour to be introduced into your noble company, I hope I shall not appear rude in thus presuming to kiss your hand, and all that. [I Gad, she is very handsome, and hath conquered my heart at this first entervieu.— aside.] Lady I hope your Father hath made you sensible of my Amours, and withal the way and manner of my Courtship, for I Gad and all that, I love damnably, and hate monstrously.  Theo. 
'Tis strange Sir you can admit at once of love and hate.  Sym. 
In their degrees Lady, but sometimes they are inseparable, for I can at once hate and love, love and hate, and all that, but the present cause which may be easily avoided is a tedious Courtship.  Theo. 
I'm glad I know your mind Sir, and shall strive to please in expedition.  Sym. 
I vow to Gad and all that, you are the sweetest lovingest Lady, and so forth, in all Europe.  Arr. 
I told you Son she would be all obedience, and to preserve your Love's entire for ever, prepare against to morrow for the Wedding.  Theo. 
To morrow Sir?  Arr. 
Yes Daughter, so I've said, a days loss begets an age of sorrow, to morrow is the ultimate.  Theo. 
The warning Sirs too short, I cannot in one night consent, to the great loss that fatal day will bring; defer it Sir a week.  Sym. 
By Heaven, I shall forget to love by that time, alas Madam my love comes on by fits, and if you refuse me while it reigns upon me, I Gad and all that you may go seek your Husband.  Arr. 
Dispute no more, to morrow is the day, till than I give you leave to think upon't.  
He must be taken in the height of love,  
Or else th' effects in pallid fear will move:  
Delayed affection many ills produce,  
And love may lose its power for want of use.  Exeunt. As they are going off, Enter Sir Jasper and Slywit, Sir Jasper seeing them, stands still. Jas. 
Ha! that's more than I expected, this is sure a Rival, and one of the newest stamp, pox on this love I say, a man is never free from one danger or other; now am I in a great Quandary, whether I had best go forward or backward, if I go forward there's a Rival, if backward there goes a Coward, and to stand still is worst of all.  Sly. 
Sir what do you mean? Did you come out with an intent to see your Mistress, and stand disputing what you'd best to do.  Jas. 
Do, why what you would have me do? Did you not see a Rival with my Lady, and let me tell you there's danger in those Creatures, pox on 'em they are as common as Cuckolds, but not half so loving.  Sly. 
That's as they're used, if they discover the least spark of fear, they're valiant then as Lions, but if you bear up Briskly, swear Neatly, and huff Completely, they sneak away, just like insipid Asses.  Jas. 
Nay if swearing and huffing would overcome, I think none dare pretend to have any courage but myself.  Sly. 
As for example, suppose you were my Rival, thus I come to you, Umh, Umh, Umh, Damn me Sir, you are an Insipid, Excommunicated, Rascullian Son of a Whore, and my Rival.  Gives Sir Jasper a slap on the face, retreats, and draws his Sword. Jas. 
Pox on your Rival ship, if this be the fruits on't, you may keep your Lady and be damned; was that Alamode to make fire fly out of both the eyes of a Gentleman?  Sly. 
I used you kindly in't, you should in answer to the affront, have drawn your Sword, and—  Jas. 
Run away I'll warrant you.  Sly. 
No Sir, fought him Gently, and with a decent thrust pushed his Soul into another World.  Jas. 
I marry Sir, that's a good way to be hanged, and all that  Sly. 
Phu, I am ashamed of you, and your conversation, a Gentleman and be hanged, 'twas never heard of, I knew a Squire after he Cowardly had killed a Score, had leave to make't up Forty, and you being a Knight, I hope you may have more power.  Jas. 
Say you so, nay if I may kill Cum privilegio, woe be to the next I meet, my anger's up, and murder will ensue; but to our business, suppose you were my Rival, thus I come up to you, Umh, Umh, Umh, Damn me Sir, you are an Insipid, Excommunicated, Rascallian Son of a Whore, and my Rival.  striketh Sly. Runs back to draw his Sword, and then returns. Sly. 
So this was well done, and like a lover.  Jas. 
Nay let me alone for huffing. Enter an old Woman. here comes something, now courage for me.  Sly. 
What mean you Sir?  Jas. 
Nothing, but to kill that Monster, I have sworn, and a Gentleman should not break his word.  Sly. 
But that's a woman Sir, a very old woman.  Jas. 
If she were a very old Devil I would kill her, my angers up, and murder will ensue. Goes to kill the old Woman.  Old W. 
Oh Lord Sir hold, put up your Sword Sir, I have not seen a naked thing of that length this forty years, help, help, murder, murder. Runs up and down the Stage, crying murder, at length falls down, and Jasper in running after falls too, the old Woman gets up and runs away crying murder.  Jas. 
Pox of her old bones, could she not stand to be killed decently.  Sly. 
She thought 'twas better living Sir; but le's begone, her mumbling chaps will raise the streets upon us.  Jas. 
Withal my heart.  
Since want of Huff and Dinging, makes a Cully,  
I'll Rant, Roar, Swear, and Curse to be a Bully.  Exeunt.   

ACT II.  

SCENE the City.  Enter Jasper Sympleton, Slywit, Musicianers and Dancers. Jas. 
FOllow your Leader Rascals, this is the House, undermine it first with a noise of vocal Music, and then blow it up with a whirlwind of Fiddling.  


SONG:  
THus like a Spark and a Bully o'th' Town,  
I Ramble i'th' Streets, and Roam up and down.  
No Lover so decently ere made approach,  
But first he debauched his dear self in a Coach;  
The act being done, to his Miss with a noise  
Of scraping dull Rascals, and rabble of boys,  
In Nonsense he chatters the height of his joys.   

2.  
But your Knight Alamode, your man of pretence,  
Who comes armed all over wtth nothing but sense;  
With gaudy rich clothes, Perfume, Patch, and Paint;  
Can't such a Lover be less than a Saint?  
For they dressed all Airy, and Purity prove,  
No blessing so great, so great as your Love.   

3.  
Your Love, that chief bliss of our Mortal Estate,  
Though oftentimes Clouded with envy and hate,  
We Slaves must admire, and gladly pursue,  
Yhough we lose both our senses, our pleasures, and you.  
What man that's a Lover, and boldly dare move,  
But durst for enjoyment, forsake all above,  
Though that minute he's damned, and damned for his Love.    A Serenade, and then a Dance; all the while they Sing and Dance Theocrine and Julia are seen in the Balconee. Enter Sir Simon Credulous and Drayner. Theocrine and Julia, Exit above. Sly. 
Sir, there's your Rival.  Jas. 
Damn me Sir, you are an Insipid, Excommunicated, Rascallian Son of a Whore, and my Rival.  Strikes Sir Simon, runs back and draws his Sword, Sir Simon doth the same, and coming towards one another they know each other. Sym. 
What my Quondam friend and noble acquaintance Sir Jasper Sympleton.  Jas. 
My Right Worshipful, and Pomathematical Bully, Sir Simon Credulous. They Embrace.  Sly. 
Cully maintainer.  Dra. 
Bully Slywit. They Embrace.  Sym. 
And how, and how is't? I Gad who thought to have seen you here? the last time we saw each other, I pawned you at the Rose for a Guinny, that little Debauch made a Divorce betwixt us, and have I met thee here?— Embrace again. but a Pox of your Ceremonious way of Greeting Bully, that slap was very severe to a friend.  Jas. 
A slight way of Compliment to a Rival, but dear Rogue let me kiss thee,— I Gad I joy to see you.—  Embrace again. Sym. 
This is a Rival by his fawning, for I believe a Sicilian Rival, and an English Cuckold, are much of a Nature, both loving the man that most injures them.— aside. But Bully Sympleton what made you here so early, been upon the Ramble I'll warrant you, and so came and paid your devoires to the Lady of your best affections.  Jas. 
Rot me, if I'm in love with any body but my Landress; these are only some of my flashes of Gallantry, to let the City know my merits; but what made you here Bully Credulous? To Court a Lady I dare swear.  Sym. 
By my honour no, an unlucky Horse of mine as I was riding to view the Country, stood still with me seven miles together, which forced me to be beholding to the Gentleman of this House for a night's Lodging; This will do or nothing.— aside. But if ever I ride a tired Horse again, post me for a Cully.  Jas. 
This may be, but I Gad 'tis very impossible.  Enter Theocrine and Julia. Sym. 
Zounds here comes my Lady, now dare I as well be hanged as speak to her, for fear of having my threat cut.— aside.  Jas. 
What a pox shall I do now? if I speak, I discover my affections, and create a Rival; and if I say nothing, I lose my Mistress. Oh valour, oh valour, what's become of you?— aside.  Sly. 
Sir, why do you not speak to the Lady, she expects you.— aside to Jasper.  Jas. 
She may expect me if she pleases, but I think I shan't speak to her.— to Slywit.  Dra. 
Sir, are you not ashamed to stand gaping as if you had lost your speech? to Simon.  Sym. 
I Gad I had better lose my speech, then lose my life: for if I speak to her, he'll speak to me, and above all things I hate an angry Rival. to maintainer.  Sly. 
Good Sir recollect yourself, your Rival is an errand Coward, and dares not own before your face his love to Theocrine, and should you refuse to Court her now, she's lost for ever,— aside to Jasper. forward Sir, forward, for shame.— bushes Jasper forward.  Sym. 
I Gad I'll venture too, maintainer get your Sword ready, and if my Rival offers to draw, dispatch him decently.  Speaks this aside to maintainer, and then goes towards Theocrine, Jasper doth the same. Jas. 
Honourable Madam.  Sym. 
Lovely Lady. Get your Sword ready maintainer.  Jas. 
Most Aromatic Beauty.  Sym. 
Divine, Celestial, and Odoriferous Venus.  Jas. 
The glory of your presence, makes me stoop thus low to kiss your hand.— Kisses her hand.  Sym. 
The glory of your presence makes me bold to kiss your L— and so forth.— Offers to kiss her.  Theo. 
What mean you Sir?—  Jas. 
Ay▪ what mean you Sir?  Sym. 
Nay, nay, no huffing Bully, no harm upon my honour Madam.  Theo. 
You're bold Sir, and intrude too far upon the privilege my Father gave you; but that you are a stranger and a Gentleman, I should chastise the Insolence.  Jas. 
I would not lose the honour for a Kingdom, he's my Rival, and that's sufficient, hum, hum.— After a Huffing Proud manner. Bully Credulous you are my friend,— aside to him. Give me your hand, meet me within this minute— Aloud, after the foregoing manner. at the Tavern.— aside as before.  Sym. 
Agreed.— aloud as before.  Jas. 
Madam your Servant, such saucy actions must and shall be punished, farewell. aloud as before.  Exit. Sir Jasper and Slywit. Sym. 
Your Servant Madam; if I fall, say you lost one who loved.— After the same manner to Theocrine.  Exit. Sir Simon with maintainer. Theo. 
The Coxcombs will not fight sure?  Jul. 
You need not fear it Madam, their Spirits are too dull for such brave Actions.  Theo. 
I do not much, yet something troubles me, and what it is I know not.  Jul. 
Love for Vanlore Madam; 'tis true, his virtues merit all your noble thoughts, but his mean fortunes so enrage your Father, I fear you'll ne'er enjoy him.  Theo. 
Father's are Cruel when they think they're Kind, and more disturb our rest by forcing Love, then when they rob us of the Author of it.  Enter a Servant. Seru. 
Madam, a Messenger from Ardenna desires to speak with you.  Theo. 
Some news from Vanlore, now Heaven I hope is kind.  Exeunt.  

SCENE Chamber Royal.  Enter Antellus, Glorianda, Guards, two Sea Captains, and Attendants, Antellus Reading a Letter. King. 
The Letter.  
WHen first our full spread sails were Pregnant grown, and all our hopes grew equal to our wishes, a spiteful Storm stretched on the wings of all the Clamorous Winds, scattered our Fleet, whose Ruined sails hang on the top of Rocks, the darkened Sky proclaims a dissolution, and the angry Waves assault our sinking Ships: Some hours this Tempest held, and on a sudden the face of the Heaven was clear, the Seas grew Calm, and light appeared, just like a new born day, that we might see the dreadful Ruins of our scattered Fleet, and what bred most distraction, the Prince's Ship was lost.  King. 
How full of fatal changes are our Lives, what is't to be a Monarch, and yet live to be a trembling at every breath of passion? thus when all my thoughts in the fair hopes were calmed of Heroina's safe Arrival, then, even then to have 'em smothered in this Cloud of cursed Intelligence.  Glo. 
Your grief is yet but weak suspicions birth, and happily may prove abortive Sir.  King. 
Oh Glorianda, thou fain wouldst flatter me to comfort, but the malignity of sorrow can admit no Cordials; there, there, giveth Glorianda the Letter, she peruses it. unravel the black clew that led me into this dark Labyrinth of grief; and tell me then, if I have ever left hopes to escape this growing storm of Passion. Glorianda having perused the Letter, returns it.  Glo. 
Sir th'information is most sad, if true.  King. 
Oh, 'tis too true, too true my Glorianda, devouring Seas have cous'ned our Embraces; but shall I lose her thus? Go gather all those Ships that owe obedience to this life; and let their Squadrons scour the Seas until you find her out, or else by all that's good, your lives, though an unworthy Sacrifice, shall fall an offering to her Father's loss. Exit. the Sea Captains.  Shouts within, Enter Oroandes, Zannazarro and Amasia Guarded. Oroandes kneels, and presents the Prisoners. Oro. 
Thus only may your Enemies Encounter those Beams of sacred Majesty, that shine through you from the Sicilian Diadem.  King. 
Rise Oroandes, high in our love as wonder; thus joy encounters grief, but is too weak for such a foe.  Glo. 
I more than doubt poor Zannarro's safety.  
Love's secret flames, teach me the way to fear,  
And when he moves from life, my death draws near.  Weeps. King. 
Why so much woman Glorianda? Thou but mispendest thy pity on an object, which if not removed, will soon Eclipse the brightness of our Stars.—  
Go call the Priests of Mars and Pallas hither. Exit a Guard.  Oro. 
What might this Rage Portend?  Enter the Guards, and two Priests. King. 
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 'em prepared ere the next Morning guilds the Earth.  
— Delay  
Shall pluck no feathers from the wings of Day,  
Ere vengeance meet the Rebels.  Exeunt Priests, and Prisoners. Glo. 
Oh they are lost, for ever lost.  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.  King. 
Now Oroandes I have time left to Embrace thee, and hug this Cabinet of virtues yet, I have not in all thy absence let thy goodness slide out of my thoughts, witness this Lady, in whose virgin breast, I've strove to plant thy worth.  
Fight like a noble Soldier, and so move,  
Till noble virtue Conquer Glorious Love.  Exit King and Attendants. Glo. 
Whither starts my degenerate Spirits? I was born free as Sicily's King, and though he is my Brother, sure I may be allowed the freedom of my Choice.— Weeps.  Oro. 
She weeps.  
There's more in this then yet my thoughts can fathom, pardon Lady my unbecoming rudeness, I have sorrows which like an evil Genius on my Soul sit clothed in sables, and obscure the light of your bright Glories.  Glo. 
This is no time to flatter Sir, or move  
In these disorders towards the Throne of Love:  
A gen'ral sweetness should about us wait,  
And not the surly frowns of angry fate.  
To quench those flames so newly are begun,  
I'll weep down floods, and drown the rising Sun.  Oro. 
To Court your tears, argues a fatal end,  
And love thus planted, never can extend.  
In Glorious paths of mutual happiness  
We treat the fancy, and expect success;  
But when before the heart is gone astray,  
Our Monarch's gifts doth but our lives betray;  
And to refuse what he so kindly gave,  
Were but to Ruin what we hoped to save.  Glo. 
Though our affections variously do move,  
In different forms of Gratitude and Love;  
Yet they're perhaps of kin, did you but know  
From whence th' Original of Grief doth grow.  
My Lord I blush not to relate, these eyes  
Drop tears to mollify the Deities,  
Those stubborn Gods which sway the reeling State  
Of Zannazarro, and Amasia's Fate.  
For him my cares, for her your fears are strong,  
Yet they must suffer for their Father's wrong.  Oro. 
Oraculously spoken, her great Charms,  
Have bound me in the Circle of her Arms:  
In height of Conquest they surprised my Soul,  
Her Glories all my Laurels did control;  
My growing fortune stopped at her bright eyes,  
And she commanded all my victories:  
To her great Charms my Conquest soon did bow,  
And Lilies sat triumphant on her brow.  
The Warlike Eagle, and the Phoenix may  
Fly to a Wilderness and shun the day:  
While she invested in the Robes of Love,  
Darts fiercer Beams, as she to th' East doth move.  Glo. 
And can you then see so much goodness fall?  
Rather turn Rebel, to save them lose all.  Oro. 
I have an Army yet, 'tis true, but when  
I think on Treason they will shun me then.  
My blood shrinks to its Centre at a Rebel's name,  
Scattering a deathlike Ague through each vein;  
My Nerves shrink back at any thing that's ill:  
We damn ourselves when we a Monarch kill.  
If all our prayers cannot satisfy  
An angry King, we'll both Love's Martyrs die.  Glo. 
I will do something too, something that may  
Preserve my fame as glorious as the day.  
Perhaps Sir, our united prayers may move  
Heaven to Compassion, and the King to Love.  Oro. 
My prayers shall wait on yours, and if denied,  
Dying for love with them shall be my pride. Exeunt.   

SCENE a Tavern.  Sir Jasper Sympleton, Sir Simon Credulous, maintainer and Sly wit, are discovered Drinking. Jas. 
Pox this is better than fighting: What should a man of honour that hath an Estate, and so forth, venture his life for? 'tis enough for poor pitiful little inconsiderate Rascals, that have no other dependency, but Murder and Hanging.  Sym. 
True Bully, Pox of fighting I say, there's no sport in it, whoring and drinking I am for, but I hate fighting.  Jas. 
Come le's sit down then, Sirrah, some Wine, here's a health to my Lady, Madam Theocrine.  Sym. 
Done, I'll pledge it, and begin another; here's a health to my Lady, Madam Theocrine.  Jas. 
Is she your Lady then?  Sym. 
My Mistress Sir or so, if her Father may be believed, I thank him he has confired that honour on me.  Jas. 
Why Bully, she is my Mistress too, herself I thank her, confired that honour on me.—  Sym. 
Herself Sir?  Jas. 
Yes Sir, so I said, herself.  Sym. 
Nay Pox on't be not angry Bully, give me thy hand, let's drink away sorrow, and a Pox of Quarrelling.  Jas. 
Quarrelling Sir, I scorn quarrelling as much as any man, but I hate to be abused.  Sym. 
Abused, and so do I, my Mistress is my Mistress, and so forth, and no Rival shall get her from me, I will fight for her in Verse.  Jas. 
And so will I, and I think for Poetry no man can outdo me. They sit down to write.  Dra. 
Was ever seen two such inconsiderable Asses, men that have no more sense of honour then a Woodcock; for my part though I as much abhor fighting as either, yet the fault in them appears so odious, I hate myself for being such a Coward.  Sly. 
In London I durst be a Bully, when incompased with an host of Hector's, who have no more honour than courage, yet impudence enough to keep a man out of the honourable path of fighting; grinning Honour is as loathsome to 'em as a grinning Bailiff, and they had rather kill themselves with Nautious Physic, then hazard the breathing of a vein in a just Quarrel.  Dra. 
It becomes neither you nor I to rail at Cowards, having so great a share in Cowardice, but rather to be patient and bear our sufferings (I mean our beatings) without noise, that the World may think us men of Wit and Prudence.  Sly. 
Since we came hither, Sir Jasper with his insufferable Impertinence, and his unreclaimable Arrogance, has brought me into at least sixteen Quarrels, of which the least had made us Mortal, had not I by my fawning and extreme art in wheadling got clear, which makes me cry Pox of fighting, the very thought on't proclaims me Mortus est.  Dra. 
I fear my life's at stake too, for my quarrelling Coward like a true Bully, Tanndy, always sneaks away and leaves me to Capitulate with the Enemy, or else Engage to fight, which neither of us have any stomach to.  Sly. 
For my part I commonly swear a Quarrel out, not fight it; or take a beating, though with an Oaken Cudgel. This tilting is more dangerous than Morbus Gallicus a dose of Mercury is; Heaven to the point of a Sword.  While Sly and Drayner discourse, Jasper and Credulous write, drink, walk, and use all the Antic Postures of Poets; maintainer and Sly having done talking, Jasper and Credulous rise, both being near drunk. Jas. 
By my Father's Soul I've done, and without Ostentation, to as great a height, as— When the Sons of the Muses grew Numerous and loud, and so forth.  Sym. 
And by your favour I think I have done to a mighty height, and to a greater height than a Lampoon; I have done to the height of Allebabbela su, and so forth.  Jas. 
Thou hast a notable Paw for Scribbling; but for Lampoon, Joak, Jest, Jeer, and so forth, I have the Brain.  Sym. 
And I have a Brain too, but let that pass; to the verses, to the verses, come Bully le's hear the verses.  Jas. 
Divine— Reads.  Sym. [Laughing,] 
— He has made an Angel of her already. Divine,— Oh horrid, there's an Epithte for a Lady, pray when did you hear that a Divine was a Lady, or of a divine Lady? ha, ha, ha.  Jas. 
Sir, 'tis a flight, and a great deal better than diabolical.  Reads affectedly. 
Divine, Celestial, and Soul Charming fair,  
Why were't thou made so glorious and so rare,  
Only to run us Mortals to despair?  
How dost like 'em Bully?  Sym. 
They are very rare, monstrous fair, and damnable despairing verses indeed, but is here all?  Jas. 
Yes and enough too, a man that writes sense should not write above three lines a day. Give me Premeditation, I say Premeditation, for that's the staff of Poetry.  Sym. 
But by your favour I think my Song here without Premeditation, is as good as your Divine Celestial and Soul Charming business. Bully, your Judgement.  


SONG.  
THE joys of Debauch in the Night are most sweet,  
When Passion and Guinnies with a Doxy we meet;  
Though she plies up and down  
Like a Miss of the Town,  
To oblige every Cully will give her a Crown,  
Yet I Gad she'll be kind to him she approves,  
And deposit her dust to the man that she loves.   

2.  
Oh the pleasant Harang of a Citizen's Wife,  
Who loves to oblige a dear Spark with her life,  
Her Husband poor Cully,  
For fear of the Bully  
Sits Mumping at home,  
While abroad she doth Roam.  
At Night being Cloyed by Debauch and its Charms,  
She's asleep when the Cuecold should melt in her Arms.    
I think if Wit, Sense and Judgement, be commendable in an Author without Premeditation, I have it to excess.  Jas. 
But where's the business?  Sym. 
What business?  Jas. 
Why the Lady.  Sym. 
Pox of business and the Lady too, do I look like a man of business?  Jas. 
Then by my Father's Soul you're a dull senseless Rascal, and have no more Wit, than a Poetical Thief, for your Song is mere Nonsense.  Sym. 
I Gad who can help it? if it is Nonsense, it is Nonsense; but in my mind 'tis admirable good sense, you shall hear it again.  Offers to Read it, Jasper snatches it out of his hand, and tears it. Jas. 
I'll have no more Reading of Songs, dull witless Songs, that have no more sense in 'em than I have.  Sym. 
Now has he spoiled a Copy of the hopefullest Verses in Europe, and an Original too.  Jas. 
Here, here, are the lines, these are the moving lines, and so forth. Credulous snatches the Paper, tears it, and flings the pieces away.  Sym. 
Yes they are moving lines, see how they flutter.  Jas. 
Villain you have abused Poetry itself, and I will be revenged, I will have a Session of Poets shall dam thee Ibraimattically, lead thee to School by the Nose and Chastise thy Insolence.  Sym. 
And I will have— your obliging and faithful Servant to command, and so forth.  Dra. 
You are not going Sir, are you?  Sym. 
Yes to Challenge him, we Poets dare not fight, do you hear Bully, I hate to be abused, and so forth, meet me to morrow.  Jas. 
Where?  Sym. 
Any where.  Jas. 
What hour?  Sym. 
Any hour.  Jas. 
The weapon?  Sym. 
What weapon you will.  Jas. 
I shall not fail.  Sym. 
Farewell.— Exit Sym. and maintainer.  Jas. 
Is he gone?  Sly. 
Yes, and hath left you to pay the Reckoning,  Jas. 
'Tis no matter, it shall be the last I'll warrant you; to morrow is the day,  
Yill then rich Wine shall my dull brains inspire,  
Cowards are valiant when the head's all fire.  Exeunt.  

SCENE the Temple.  Enter Oroandes with Amasia, his Sword drawn, and a Priests Robes in his hand. Oro. 
This fair Amasia was a happy hour.  
To Rescue thee from such a Villains power.  
Lust in these Robes so dreadful did appear,  
Beyond an Army's strength it made me fear.  Ama. 
The Impious Villain in such Crimes did move,  
Striving to force what he at first called Love;  
That I almost mistrusted Heaven, who gave  
Such saucy Boldness to th' injurious Slave,  
Till you my chief Protector came with aid,  
And th' injurious Mass of sin displayed.  Oro. 
Under this Masque of Heaven, and Silver age,  
The impious Rebel 'mongst his sins did rage.  
The blooming beauty of a fragrant flower,  
To crop, and kill, while it was in his power.  
The Slave's confession may perhaps engage  
Our King in Clemency to cease his rage.  
Those Counterplots laid to prevent your fall,  
Though seeming Ominous, may save us all.  
These Robes which he has so abused, shall prove  
The Guardian Angel to preserve my love.  Ama. 
Run not such dangerous hazards for her sake,  
Who knows no way to pay your favours back.  
By the King, Vow and Laws, I'm doomed to die,  
A minute cuts off my Mortality;  
And than my Gratitude and Debts remain  
Too Great and Vast, ere to pay back again.  Oro. 
All the return I ask for, or desire,  
Is but your equal love, and equal fire:  
Grant I in death may so much comfort meet,  
To fall a Lover at Amasia's feet.  Ama. 
You had my word before, and if ere Fate  
Changes my doom for a serener fate,  
Before the Gods and you, I vow, that hour  
Amasia▪ shall submit to your great power.  
Your Chains I'll wear, and give up Victory,  
The toils of War, for brave Captivity.  
To be o'ercome by one, so truly brave,  
Makes a most Glorious Captive of your Slave.  Oro. 
Those noble Chains I'll wear, and triumph more  
Then ere I did in Conquering before.  
To be your Slave is such a pleasing fate,  
The mighty blessing doth my fears rebate.  
In Life, or Death, or smooth faced Victory,  
No pleasures like this sweet Captivity.  Ama. 
We soon must part with all those joys and breath,  
How e'er I shall be happy in my death.  
If Life with you be bliss, Death must be more,  
Since real happiness is there in store  
For all who do a true Love's fate deplore.  Oro. 
Think not of death, first see Oroandes fall,  
And let a sigh attend his Funeral:  
For whilst I live, no force shall reach thy heart.  
When I am wounded in each mortal part,  
And bleeding death about my Soul doth wait,  
Prepare Amasia to receive thy fate:  
Till than my power and this disguise believe  
Either of these may bring a safe repreive.  Ama. 
Thus to profane the holy Robes, will be  
A greater trouble than the loss of me.  
Heaven will be angry at your strange pretence,  Oro. 
Heaven cannot frown to save such innocence;  
They what we Sacrifice injustice call,  
Else virtue would be banished from us all.  
Virtue expatiates to blot out Vice,  
Reaching her Glorious Arms to Paradise:  
And if we root that Angel from the Earth,  
Our weak humanity is out of breath:  
For that conducted by the Powers above,  
Teaches the way to Duty and to Love.  
Come my fair Sacrifice, these Robes can be  
Never profaned, worn to deliver thee. Exeunt.    

ACT III.  

SCENE the Court.  Enter Antellus, Glorianda and Guards. King. 
URge me no more, the Gods have so decreed,  
Amasia and her Brother both must bleed.  Glo. 
Consider Sir the Nature of the Crime,  
And for my sake withdraw your Rage this time;  
Look on Amasia's Charms, and then declare,  
If Zeal and Beauty are not both at War.  
The Cruel Tyrant to secure his own,  
Usurps this beauty to enrich his Throne.  King. 
You sue in vain for what must be denied,  
The Gods prescribed this way to scourge their pride.  Glo. 
Call not that Pride which was Revenge alone,  
Nor is it Justice Sir to Kill the Son.  
Your vengeance scourged the Rebels as they flew,  
And every factious man your Valour slew:  
You strong Rebellion hunted out of breath,  
Which Sir expired in brave Zoranzo's death.  King. 
The father's fall did but foment him more,  
Proving a greater Rebel than before;  
Still he grew on and in Rebellion moved,  Glo. 
Yourself Sir by a Son would be beloved:  
His Father's Death new vengeance did implore,  
Could he do less for one had sought before:  
Rebellious Nature did the faction head,  
And he fought only to revenge the Dead:  
His Army weak, wounded on every part,  
Fought not to Conquer, but Revenge their smart.  King. 
Why for the bold Usurper do you move,  
I shall grow angry, and believe you love.  Glo. 
You gave me leave, and made a worthy choice,  
Brave Oroandes had my Brother's voice;  
But he, as well as I, preserves a flame  
For dead Zoranzo's Issue.  King. 
— Dare you name  
An Act so base, to love your Country's foe,  
He die, and never shall your pashions know.  
The Gods expect their Sacrifice with care,  
And 'cause you shall not languish in despair,  
Against to morrow for their Deaths prepare.  Glo. 
What have I said that should your anger move?  
If you will save his Life, I will not love;  
Let him but live, and I'll forget the wrong,  
Though love is grown too powerful and too strong  
With ease to be removed; in youth when first  
Kind conversation in each eye had nursed  
A gentle Cupid, and our hearts though poor,  
Wanting th' effects of love could love no more;  
Down with content we by each other sat,  
Weeping to think upon our Childish fate,  
Till he, forced by a Father's pride did fly  
From me, and honour to your Enemy:  
Though then he lost obedience to the Crown,  
A mutual love did our Soul's Current drown  
Within one Silver stream; and shall I now  
Cause his dejected state to fate doth bow  
Kill him with pride, whose noble growth would be  
A joyful Harvest of felicity?  
No, let his Titles Sacrifices fall  
To his first Guilt, his Virtue merits all.  King. 
Call Treason Virtue, and the Traitor just:  
Rebellion's a desire to Rule, and Lust  
Of Empire makes 'em break their trust.  
ill Acts committed, by success made good,  
And Nations staggering for want of blood  
Drawn out by Civil strifes and unjust fears,  
Are only debts to Nature in Arrears:  
You know my Vow which I will ne'er evade.  Glo. 
Heaven blushes when that bloody Vow is paid:  
If he must fall, the worthiest of men,  
Heaven will be pleased with Sacrifices then;  
My blood and his shall mount up to the Skies,  
And feed the Nostrils of our Deities,  
Till they in Rage to see such goodness fall,  
Rain down our blood on vengeance on ye all:  
Amasia's Charms shall with such swiftness move  
The Gods out of mere pity from above  
Shall plague you all, when 'tis too late, with Love.  Exit Glorianda. King. 
Amasia 's Charms shall with such swiftness move  
The Gods out of mere pity from above  
Shall plague you all, when 'tis too late, with Love.  
What can she mean? 'Twas spoke as she did spy  
The little Tyrant dancing in my eye.  
Something unruly doth about me wait,  
Like hidden Charms my anger to rebate;  
The surly motion tells me I do ill,  
Can I pretend to be a King and kill?  
Amasia was no Rebel to the State,  
Why therefore should she share a Brother's Fate?  
'Tis true, her life did from that spring take head,  
And she may own those factions which they bred;  
How ere—  
If she can love she lives, if not she dies,  
Bring then a Rebel fit for Sacrifice,  
Call in Amasia,— though her Charms appear  Exit some Guards. 
So uncontrolled, they must submit to fear,  
Fearful to try what joy or bliss would be  
Found while they're strangers in Eternity. Enter Amasia.  
Having considered Madam your Estate,  
And how each Title now submits to Fate,  
I could not choose but rob the Gods of one,  
One only fit for Siracusia's Throne.  Ama. 
To say I've no desire to live, would prove  
A Barren Gratitude for Royal Love;  
Death though a debt, which is to Nature due,  
We all would fain prolong, and so would you:  
But how I am thus blessed, being so nigh  
The welcome brink of Immortality,  
Staggers my Faith and strikes my Reason blind.  King. 
You'll make all perfect by your being kind.  Ama. 
I know so well you love that Conqueror,  
Who made us Captive to your mighty Power;  
You'd not deny, might it with safety be  
My Brother's Life, my Love and Liberty.  King. 
Your Liberty without dispute I grant,  
Yet all those Graces must your Brother want;  
His Life must be to Heaven a Sacrifice,  
Your own is Ransomed by your Charming eyes.  Ama. 
What have I heard, shall Zannazarro find  
His Sister proved so weak to stay behind?  
Must he alone stoop to the Cruelty?  
I was a Rebel Sir as well as he.  King. 
In acts of Love you but a Rebel prove,  
Conquering the Conqueror, yet scorn to Love:  
He—  
Wading through blood to Massacre did run,  
Outdid the Father, to undo the Son.  Ama. 
My Father's Crimes he never did partake,  
Kill me, and spare him then for Honour's sake:  
Nature can never consent to stay behind,  
He is my Brother, and in that I find  
Some secret motion, though my love be strong,  
Which tells me that I needs must go along:  
Thus Love and Nature struggle in desires,  King. 
Consider Madam who it is admires,  
And the vast gift I give to quench my fires.  Ama. 
You give me life which I would gladly take,  
(Might he live too) for brave Or'andes sake:  
Affections 'twixt the Victor and the Slave  
So strong are knit, they both will share one Grave;  
Then if he die, Or'andes too must fall,  
And Heaven will blush to see the Funeral:  
The Gods made drunk with such a vast expense  
Of Royal blood, will pardon us from thence.  King. 
You love Or'andes then, and for his sake,  
This tedious Pilgrimage of Death will take;  
Charmed by your Charms, I gave Reprieve for life,  
In hopes you would consent to be my Wife;  
But since to him your faith's already given,  
This day you keep your Nuptial feast in Heaven;  
You by the Law must fall a Sacrifice;  
He only out of duty to your eyes,  
May if he please translate himself from hence,  
Death will confirm what now is but pretence.  
Guards bring this Prisoner to the Temple straight,  
My Love shall end when she receives her Fate.  Exit King and attendants. Enter Glorianda. Glo. 
Go Cruel Brother, who at once withstood  
His Friend, his Sister, and his Country's good,  
And all to satisfy the Gods with blood.  
You weep Amasia, and those pearly tears  
Confirm my Brother's rage, and my own fears;  
His Cruel heart will no impression take  
From bended Knees, kind Words, or Nature's sake.  Ama. 
Yes he is kind, too kind alas for me,  
He generously gave me Liberty,  
Urging, my Crime so little did appear,  
Heaven could not see't, and he'd forget it here;  
But then the recompense I was to give,  
Proved so severe, my Justice could not live.  
Brave Oroandes I must dispossess,  
And make him rich in my unhappiness,  
Which once denied, he than my Death decreed.  Glo. 
The chaste Amasia not alone shall bleed,  
For Zannazarro I, Oroandes You,  
Dying together will proclaim us true;  
He in our fall shall so much virtue see,  
When we're extracted from humanity,  
As Heaven shall turn to smooth felicity.  Ama. 
My Cares are many for your noble life,  
Since you ought not to suffer in the strife,  
Earth will be robbed when so much goodness dies,  
And Heaven be too much stored with Sacrifice.  
Live and be happy in a second choice,  
Or'andes once has had your Brother's voice;  
Let him possess in Zannazarro's stead,  
All the enjoyments of a Nuptial Bed;  
I can resign that blessing up to you,  
And I am sure you're satisfied he's true.  Glo. 
In Life and Death so generous you prove,  
In Heaven you'll be rewarded for your Love.  
Know fair Amasia, though you did resign  
Your interest, I can never remove mine;  
Death's but a toy, a moment's fear, and then  
We Launch into a World of Bliss again.  Ama. 
I for that World must instantly prepare,  
And how to know you there shall be my care.  
Shrouded in Clouds of glorious innocence,  
And Angels waiting on each petty sense,  
Shall draw our Souls through Clouds of bliss from hence.   

SCENE a Wood  Enter Sir Simon Credulous Armed Cap a Pe, with him Slywit. Sly. 
Believe me Sir, 'tis true.  Sym. 
I fear him not, I am intolerable, this case of Steel makes me as free from wound, as if enchanted.  Sly. 
Yet Sir there is a greater danger near, the Wood is lined with men in Arms, whom he hath hired, if you should be the Victor, to cut your throat; if he survive, to drag your Body to the Sea, and there entomb it, that your name and actions may be lost to future ages.  Sym. 
How! is he so great a Villain?  Sly. 
He Killed his Father, Ravished his Sister, poisoned the Great Turk, and has committed outrages innumerable.  Sym. 
Then I think it fit to forbear the honourable employment of fighting for this time, and go home, rather than stay to meet with these unavoidable dangers.  Sly. 
Sir I love you, and I cannot see so much virtue perish, fight him in spite of all, and at convenient time fall down; Sir Jasper imagining you are dead, will fly; behind the Castle waits your Father with Officers to seize him, and hurry him to Prison, to give you the more privilege and uncontrolled freeness to Marry his Daughter.  Sym. 
Can this be true?  Sly. 
Upon my honour Sir, my love to you forced me to be a Traitor to my Master, and relate this secret.  Sym. 
It shan't go unrewarded.  Sly. 
You won't walk long before my Mistress meet you, farewell.  Exeunt severally. Enter Sir Jasper Armed Cap a pe, with him maintainer. Dra. 
Nay he has vowed to kill you; your Armour were it more impregnable, the Mambrosia's Helmet, his Sword will find a passage through.  Jas. 
Tell Sir Simon I am Armed all over: if Wine, Steel, and Impudence, are not enough t'oppose one single Hector, Rot me for a Widgeon; I am come with a fighting Resolution, and will not be appeased, tell this thy Master.  Dra. 
I'm sorry Sir you will not take my Counsel. Farewell.  Exit maintainer. Jas. 
Counsel when a man is come to fight for honour! here is the only counsel a Knight Errand ought to take— Pulls out a Bottle. A resolution thus fortified need not fear th' opposition of a single Arm. Drinks.  Enter Sir Simon and Sly. Sym. 
How in Armour, Zounds this is hard, he is walled in as well as I am, and the Devil cannot kill him, drinking too, nay then Valour assist me. Offers to fall on.  Jas. 
Hold Sir, hold, a fair Capitulation before fighting is as good as Tent and Eggs before Matrimony. Are you disposed to fight?  Sym. 
Yes.  Jas. 
Then Sir begin.  Sym. 
You'll take the Law then, for most Cowards when they think they cannot overcome, either take that for Sanctuary, or pretend your Enemy is not Gentele enough to fight with a man of honour, and thus you Cowardly shun the danger of a fight.  Jas. 
Sir your affront's unsufferable, prepare.  Here they fight at a distance, moving by degrees till they meet; after a short dispute, Simon falls, as soon as he is down Sly runs off crying Murder. Jas. 
Ha dead, nay then 'tis time to prepare for safety.  A noise within of follow follow, Enter Sly. Sly. 
Fly Sir, fly, the Officers and Guards o'th' City, like bloodhounds bend their Course this way, therefore begone or else expect to meet a shameful Death.  Jas. 
If this be honour, the Devil take fighting for me, grinning honour I defy thee.— Within follow follow. Let me but escape this time, and if ever you find me in the Bed of honour, the Field of danger again, hang me for a Woodcock.  Exit Jasper. Sly. 
So, thou art safe, now for the other. Stands aside.  Simon raises himself, and looks about him. Sym. 
I am not dead yet, thanks to my Case of Steel; how like an Ass Sympleton will look when he shall hear I have Married Madam Theocrine, ha, ha, ha,— Laughs within, follow follow. ha, follow, follow, what means this?  Enter Sly Running. Sly. 
Fly, fly Sir Simon, my Master's men are eager to find your Body, search up and down the Wood, under pretence of following the Murder, that they without the least suspicion may convey it to the Sea.  Sym. 
Zounds I'm not dead yet, what's to be done in this case.  Sly. 
Fly to the City Sir with expedition, there for a time shelter yourself, till the noise of this fight be over, and Sir Jasper imprisoned; then break out like the Sun slipping from behind a Cloud, and Comfort your Dear Lady.  Sym. 
Was ever Conquest easier gained, or Conqueror thus treated? Exit Sir Simon.  Sly. 
Now both shift for yourselves, this noise has raised the Town, and 'twill be hard to 'scape the Inquisition. Exit Sly.   

SCENE a Tavern.  Four or Five Citizens are discovered drinking. Enter Sir Jasper Sympleton in his Armour as affrighted, a noise of follow, follow, still. Jasp. 
Follow, follow, follow, now the Devil follow you, cannot a man Conquer decently, but he must have those blood Hounds after him. Where am I? Spies the Company. Ha, in a Tavern, and amongst these grave Citizens, nay then without a great deal of impudence, I am lost for ever; that virtue now assist me, Stalks up to the Table, and snatches a Bottle of Wine, the Company seeing him, start up and run away, as frighted, crying a Devil, a Devil, a Devil. So this is well, I'm taken for a Devil, and I hope I shall be, till I get home to my Lodging: Ha what's here?— Spies the figure in the Scene. the figure of a man in Armour, then I'll make another, perhaps that way I may escape the search: by your leave Monster I must imitate you. Stands upon a Pedestal, and imitates the posture of the figure.  Enter Sir Simon in his Armour running, within follow. Sym. 
Confusion take you all for me, can a man of no honour be safe? this 'tis to pretend to fighting; I see there's more safety in being a Cowardly Gentleman, then to be an honourable Commander, A noise within as of a Rabble. Ha! they are there, at the door, the very door by Heaven, and I shall be in salve Custodius presently, what's here, Spying the figure, and Sir Jasper. two in Armour, I Gad I'll make a third, that way or none I may escape the Inquisition. Stands upon the other Pedestal imitating Sir Jasper.  Enter a Drawer. Draw. 
What's the matter here I wonder, these Citizens are afraid of their own shadows, one runs this way crying a Devil, a Devil, a Devil, a second this, a third, a fourth, and a fifth this way, all running and roaring as if they were possessed with a Devil indeed, a company of Cowardly Rascals, had they no more money than valour I might properly say, they were Beggarly Cowards; ha there's a brace of Devils indeed,— in the name of— the Devil, the Devil, the Devil.— Exit running.  Enter Constable and Watchmen, Sly dressed like a Constable. Con. 
Search the House, here they went in for certain, leave not one Room unlooked in, while my Brother and I solace ourselves with a Bottle of Wine,— Exit Watchmen. Come Brother, you and I, as we have participated in several Nocturnal Dangers, and also shared the Profits, will steal so much time to share a Bottle, or so. They sit down, and lean their staves against the Arms of Jasper and Simon which are extended.  Sly. 
Withal my heart, and see how fortune blesses us, here is plenty of the thing we ask for: Brother a health to our happy success in finding out the Murderer.  Con. 
Agreed. They drink and fling the remainder in Sir jasper's and Sir Symon's faces.  Sly. 
Another health to the Gold which perhaps they will give us to blind our eyes.  Con. 
Agreed. They drink, and fling the remainder as before. And now here is another health to— As they are going to drink, Simon and Jasper break the Glasses. by my Staff of Office, what saucy Rogue was that? he deserves punishment from the hands of Justice, but 'tis no matter, we will drink each a Bottle, and that shall be to Majesty itself.  While they are drinking, Jasper and Simon with their feet fling down the Table, the Constables start up. Sly. 
Ha what means this, we are Enchanted sure.  Jasper and Simon jump down from the Pedestals, and dance up to the Constables, who run off, crying, begone, stand off, we are the King's Officers, etc. Jasper and Simon still dance up and down, both performing the same Antic postures, till meeting face to face, they stand gazing upon each other. Sym. 
What, Bully Sympleton?  Jas. 
What Bully Credulous? are you alive still?  Sym. 
Yes, as sure as we are both Cowards; I see 'tis more dangerous for Gentlemen to fight, then for Churchwardens to rob the poor; we may be hanged yet if we are taken.  Jas. 
For that trick, to avoid trouble, I'll go home, 'tis dark enough to keep suspicion off.  Sym. 
And so will I,  
From hence forth, honour I'll no more pursue  
Then she doth Cowards, that's both I and you.  Jas. 
Had we been valiant we had been no more,  
Death saved our lives, that we might save a score. Exeunt.   

SCENE the Temple.  Antellus, Glorianda, Arratus, Theocrine and Guards are discovered. King. 
Thou look'st too sadly Glorianda; though Funerals do attend the day, we're not to wear the sables on our Souls.  Glo. 
My sadness Sir only proceeds from fear, how my frail temper may endure a sight so full of horror.  Loud Music, Enter at one door the Priests of Mars leading Zannazarro bound, followed by Priests in white, with Censors and Sacrificing Instruments; at the other, Oroandes dressed like a Priest of Pallas, leading Amasia bound, Virgins in white following with Censors and Sacrificing Instruments. King. 
My Rage begins to melt, I could e'en wish they might survive the rigour of their doom.  Glo. 
Must I see this and live? No Zannazarro, here's my Convoy to thee. Draws a Dagger.  The Priests lead 'em to the Altar, where unbinding their Arms, they give 'em liberty to embrace each other. Zan· 
So now Amasia, we have ended all our employments on the Earth: the wheels of Time worn on the road of Age, will lose their motions, ere we shall again meet in the Robes of flesh: Farewell,  
Though in a Moment here our Bodies die,  
Our Souls shall meet in vast Eternity;  
Inseparably in the Clouds we both shall move,  
Treading on Air teaching the Gods to love;  
There walking hand in hand such tales we'll tell,  
As shall Immortalize our joys— Farewell.  Ama. 
Farewell dear Brother; if thy Soul do move,  
And take thy flight ere mine to dwell above,  
Stay for me in the thin unmoulded Air,  
For fear your loss should kill me with despair.  Zannazarro and Amasia are led to the Altar, where whilst they kneel this Song is sung. 


SONG:  
SEE each wind leaves Civil Wars,  
And Heaven approves the Sacrifice;  
Whilst to behold it all the Stars  
Glitter to light the Deities.  
Cho. Peace reigns through every Element,  
Whilst this blessed pair to Heaven are sent.   

2.  
Sparta's fair Ephigenia died  
A spotted Sacrifice to this,  
Bright Nymph compared, whose Virgin pride  
Says Nature nought hath done amiss.  
Cho. Yet she must live where Time shall be  
Confounded in Eternity.   

3.  
Prepare, prepare, the fatal stroke  
Which Life and Soul must separate,  
Goodness may pity not revoke  
The firm Decrees of certain fate.  
Cho. They come, they come, their ways prepare,  
And lead 'em through the pathless Air,  
Lead 'em to live where Time shall be  
Confounded in Eternity.    The Priests offer to strike, but are hindered by Oroandes; a clap of Thunder, Groans and Shrieks throughout the Temple, the Priest's Robes are spotted with blood, the Images of the Gods drop down. King. 
What horrid Prodigies are these? The Gods are sure grown angry with our Prayers.  Oro. 
I have been long attendant on these Powers, yet never saw the Gods thus moved before.  King. 
They're sure displeased with Offerings so Pure, or else some hidden Charms unknown to us hath wrought this Miracle.  Oro. 
Here, here lies the guilt of our impieties; 'tis I deserve the utmost of your rage. Oroandes discovers himself.  King. 
Ha! Oroandes what damned Imposture's this?  Soft Music from above, the Images are raised again. Oro. 
The argument of Mercy from the Gods emboldens 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. When Amasia 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 when the Priest with his sad charge should enter, which arrived, I that came there to offer Sacrilege saw myself ordained the Instrument of Heaven, to free her from the hands of a fowl Ravisher.  King. 
This dreadful story strikes trembling Earthquakes throughout all my Limbs.  Oro. 
That this is true, witness those Powers which owned that cause, which I (though rashly) undertook.  King. 
Pardon me ye Diviner Powers,— I have been too neglective of the charge you gave me, but will redeem it in my future Zeal: that Villains blood forced out by Tortures, shall begin the Purple Deluge. To Zannazarro and Amasia who kneel. I must forget those Crimes, Heaven hath been pleased freely to forgive; rise higher in our favour then was that exalted Story from whence your Father fell. They rise.  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.  King. 
Thy actions speak thy wishes— Here Oroandes take from my hand this gift from Heaven, she's thine by their decree.  Gives him Amasia, Zannazarro kneels. Zan. 
Ere your extended Mercy shall contract it's liberal hand, let me be happy in the full fruition of my joys; my love to Glorianda, though long smothered in my fate's security, must now break out.  King. 
Thy thoughts arrive clothed in the Robes of joy: Rise Zannazarro— Embrace in her thy happiness. Zannazarro rises, the King giveth him Glorianda. Now all your Seas are calmed, only my Bark still stands in opposition 'gainst the wave,  
And it shall struggle with the Storm to show  
To show how much we to this days deliv'ry owe. Exeunt.    

ACT IU.  

SCENE the Sicilian Plains.  Enter Vanlore like a Shepherd leading in Heroina wet as from a wreck, Shepherds and Shepherdesses. Van. 
COme Lady, you must now inhabit here  
In silent shades and solitary Groves,  
Where Rustic sweetness makes us void of fear,  
And harmless Nature teacheth harmless Loves.  
The Morning Dew drawn up by Sols strong Charms,  
Is not more safe when locked within his Arms,  
Than you protected by our Innocence.  Her. 
Sir, if these words prove not a bare pretence,  
I shall have cause to thank your care, and be  
Happy 'mongst you, though clothed in misery.  Van. 
Time will wear out the thoughts of dangers past,  
And you may be released from griefs at last;  
Though in the Storm you left Estates behind,  
Your life secures the safety of your mind:  
A troubled fancy Robs the Soul of rest;  
That man may be secured, but never blessed,  
For they who do within such Wars maintain,  
Distract their Reason to secure their Pain.  Her. 
But pains like mine do seize on every part,  
Ensnares the Soul to Captivate the Heart;  
My many troubles like a Clouded Sky,  
Declare some sudden Storm of dangers nigh.  Van. 
You but suspect those ills you need not fear,  
And danger Madam's unacquainted here.  Her. 
Wealth I have none to lose, or to bestow,  
My Gratitude is all, and that I'll owe;  
Which may in time to such a greatness rise,  
I shall return those thanks you'll not despise.  Van. 
I wish the Curtain of your Fate may be  
Drawn from the face of smooth felicity:  
Wounds are not cured by Grief, nor Fate made less  
Or more by hopes of harms or happiness:  
Let Madam all our Vows disperse your fears,  
Time lost can't be pulled back by sighs or tears.  Her. 
Yet silent Griefs a troubled heart may ease,  
And Passion vented mitigates disease. Exeunt.   

SCENE Arratus Lodgings.  Enter Slywit, Theocrine in man's clothes, and a Shepherd. Sly. 
Sir, to your charge I do commit the Fare:  
Be her safe conduct, she'll reward your care.  Shep. 
For Valore's sake my duty I'll express,  
Nor Madam for your own could I do less.  Theo. 
I can but thank you, yet in time I may  
Find out a means your services to pay;  
My Gratitude till then you shall employ,  
Take that, and lead me to a World of joy.  Exeunt. manet Sly. Sly. 
So thus far I'm right, and all my plots thrive equal with my wishes; I have persuaded Sir Simon, Sir Jasper's in Prison, and that I have got Theocrines consent to Celebrate the Marriage this Morning; a Bride I have provided, and such a one as (Heaven knows) are too common in this Age, a debauched Chambermaid, one as fit for Sir Jasper's humour, as a Tailor for a Cowcumber; he promised to meet me here, but has not kept his word, I hope he has not found the cheat, but here he comes. Enter Sir Jasper. Hast haste to the Temple Sir, you'll lose your Mistress else; within a Room behind the Altar waits a Priest, and all things are in readiness.  Jas. 
But—  Sly. 
But me no Butts, but get you gone I say; delay a minute and you're undone for ever. bushes him off. So he's gone▪ and I within this hour shall be revenged at full: how sweet those actions are, when we project for Guinnies. By this time Drayner's ready with his Mask to entertain'em; and if that and Sir Jasper's Wife make not Matrimony odious, I'll never plot again.  
Wives just like Fools, are only kept to please,  
Delight dull Appetites, and bring us ease;  
Their various ways to Pleasure we adore,  
Which once seen over, we admire no more.  
Things oft repeated, though they pleasant prove;  
Nautiate and dull the stomach like fond Love.  
Things in extremes are ills to every sense,  
And though a while they please us with pretence,  
Both once enjoyed the prudent banish hence.  Exit.  

SCENE the Temple.  Enter a Priest of Hymen, then Arratus, and then Sir Simon leading Julia dressed like Theocrine. Arra. 
This is the day, Son, makes us happy, you in the hopes of such a virtuous Wife, and I to see both Married. And Daughter (since your duty speaks you so) I hope this joyful day will Crown your Loves, and add Eternal Comforts to your Lives. Lead to the Altar. As they go up to the Altar the supposed Ghost of Vanlore appears, Julia and the Priest shriek and run off severally, Arratus falls down, Sir Simon offers to run out, but is stopped at every entrance by a Spirit.  

SONG. By the Spirits.  

1 Spi. MAke haste, make haste,  
The time doth waste  
And flies too fast.  
Cho. Therefore Remove  
These sinners from their bliss Above,  
For they must share  
With us in Everlasting Care.   

2.  
2 Spi. Remember old man, and ye sprightly young Blade,  
The Lover, the Lover, to death was betrayed;  
At Ardenna by you he was strangely removed,  
Because he too fondly pursued what he loved.  
3 Spi. For which you shall be  
Tormented by me,  
For ever, for ever, by him, and by me.  
Cho. For which, etc.   

3.  
1 Spi. Come let's remove.  
2 Spi. Come let's remove.  
4 Spi. This lump of Diseases and scandal of Love,  
Let's bear'em from hence to their Torments below,  
Where Lavishing Souls are wrapped up in woe;  
There to Tortures they shall for their mischiefs be sent,  
Yet never, Oh never, Oh never Repent.  
Cho. There to, etc. The Song being ended, the four Spirits drive Sir Simon into the middle of the Stage, and Dance; the Dance being ended, they hurry him away. Arratus raises himself and looks about him.    Arra. 
Are they gone? Rises. Was ever Marriage so crossed, they're all gone, and have left me nothing to keep me Company, but a guilty Conscience; Oh the horror of it strikes me dead; Murder is the sin Committed, and I the only Actor! Oh Vanlore, could I recall thy Soul, I willingly would give my Daughter to you to satisfy the injuries I did you, but 'tis in vain, the Bloody deed is done, I shall grow mad, my Son and Daughter and my Wits are lost, lost past Redemption,  
Howe'er I'll spin my Life out, though my Grief  
Burden my Soul till it is past Relief.  Exit.  

SCENE a Plane.  Enter Oroandes Reading a Letter. Oro. 
Meet me at Nine behind the Hermit's Rock. I have not missed in either Circumstance, unless my haste Anticipated Time— Looks on his Watch. It yet is not full Nine. Enter Antellus.  King. 
Oroandes you are now a Loyal Subject.  Oro. 
All my Ambitions ne'er flew higher, Sir, then in that Region of your thoughts to thrive.  King. 
There it was grown to full Maturity: 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?  King. 
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 buoy your Vengeance up. Did I but think one Viper Lodged in my remotest part, I'd tear each Fiber of my heart, to find the Monster out, and in my blood Embalmed throw it as far as Life's short span can reach. But Heaven my witness is no flame of Zeal, but has 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.  King. 
Thy Virtue fathoms not my debt of Guilt; such a prevention of my Anger, would only change the active passion for sorrow as insupportable: those Characters which must uphold 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.  King. 
This will unriddle all our doubts,— draw. King draws.  Oro. 
Against my Sovereign! an Act so wicked would retort the guilty steel into my breast: fear never yet Marbled a Coward's heart more than Obedience mine.  King. 
Will you deny when I Command?  Oro. 
Pardon me Royal Sir, I would bestride a Cloud with Lightning Charged in's full Career, affront a Thunderbolt, leap into 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.  King. 
Are my attempts prized at so weak 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, which speaks thy Soul a Traitor.  Oro. 
This stirs my blood, were you a private man that only had his better Genius to defend him, and though Allied to me by all the ties of Nature, and of Friendship, yet being thus far urged, our Swords long since had shown whose Stars had brightest Influence.  King. 
I have unfettered all those legal bonds. Draw— for thy denying now but slights my power.  Oro. 
Then since there's no Evasion,— Oroandes draws.  
Witness ye Gods my Innocence is wronged.  
But Gracious Sir,— Oroandes kneels.  
Before I fall, or stand less fortunate, to see you overthrew, Oh let me know what Fate, what Cruel Fate has robbed me of the Treasure of your Love.  King. 
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. I come not rashly to attempt thy life, but long have struggled with my hot desires, stood fiery Trials of temptations. I am diseased, and know no way to health but through a deluge of thy blood,— there is a cause.  Oro. 
Dear Sir reveal it, that e'er I fall, my penitential tears may cleanse my Soul from such a Leprous Crime.  King. 
Alas brave Youth, thy thought's white as the Robes of Angels are, I know thy Love to fair Amasia inseparable, as goodness from a Deity, yet I 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 Amasia Sir compared is nothing.  King. 
Dar'st thou affect her, yet dispraise a Beauty that in its Orb contracts Divinity? This Profanation what had else been sin will render Meritorious,— Guard thy Life.  They fight, the King is wounded. Oro. 
What have I done?  King. 
The Business that we met for, now we are friends again, friends until Death. The King staggers and falls.  Oro. 
Oh do not faint, call up your spirits Sir, there's hopes of Life.  King. 
My Vital Powers fail, my Eyes are bowing to Eternal night.  Oro. 
And I grow wild with Horror,— milder than a Flame provoked by angry Winds; what shall I do, or whither shall I fly, to leave behind me this pursuing Guilt? A noise within.  King. 
Oh, Oh,— be gone, be gone my Oroandes, some Company draws near. Mayst thou live long and happily in the Embraces of her whom I unjustly strove to have: my dying wishes wait upon your joys.  Oro. 
Angels attend your latest hour, I go  
From hence to meet my Everlasting woe. Exit.  Enter Heroina, Vanlore, Shepherds, and Shepherdesses. Hero. 
I thought I heard th' unruly noise of Swords,  
And Clashing Murmurs of unfriendly words,  
Besides the Echo of a hollow Groan.  Van 
I heard the dismal noise, and fear th' event,  
These wild Bandits live by spoils alone,  
Run on in sin, and fear no punishment.  King. 
Oh, Oh, Oh.  Hero. 
— What noise is that?  Van. 
— Some newly Slain  
By these untamed Bandits of the Plain.  Hero. 
And here lies one breathing his latest breath,  
His face is cold, and all appears like Death;  
Let's Bear him off  
Within for his Recovery all means I'll try,  
For something prompts me, that he must not die.  They take him up, and Exeunt. Enter Theocrine and the Shepherd, the Shepherd brings back Vanlore. Van. 
My dearest Theocrine, in all, you prove  
Your Honour great, as is your Real Love.  The. 
My Vanlore, sure I may believe my eyes,  
Or doth the sudden Joy my sense surprise;  
The Cruel pleasures steal so sweetly on,  
Makes me mistrust the Bliss I run upon.  Van. 
Your Bliss is Real, and my Joys Complete,  
Heaven could not give a happiness more great.  The. 
Through doubts and fears I have attained my will,  
But 'twas unkind to let me Languish still.  Van. 
That only cast a Cloud on the design,  
That with more ease you might to Love incline.  
And I to live alone retired with pain,  
Expecting still this happiness to gain;  
Which thus possessed, more perfect Bliss I find,  
Then in the various pleasures of the mind.  The. 
Love like the wind oft shifts and seems to cease,  
As if each minute lulled it into peace;  
Sweetly it breathes upon the flowery Plain,  
And yet a moment pulls it back again.  
From Calms to Storms th' unruly Gust doth rise,  
And scatters all the Clouds about the Skies;  
So we neglectful, now our Bliss is near,  
By staying, threaten dangers we should fear:  
My Lover's Anger, and my Father's Age,  
With Thunder will pursue us in his Rage.  Van. 
Thou art the Loadstone, and my Soul shall be  
Directed only by thy Charms and thee.  
'Mongst harmless Sheep, and solitary Bowers,  
We'll waste the tedious Time in pleasant Hours▪  
There Love and Pleasure we'll at once possess;  
Who wades through Crosses meets true Happiness. Exeunt.   

SCENE the Court.  Enter Zannazarro, Glorianda, and Amasia. Zan. 
How sad a change is this! This morning was appointed for more joyful interviews.  Glo. 
When last night's slumber robbed our wakeful hopes of the delicious births of fancy, 'twas with fairer promises: Amasia, I fain would comfort thee, but my own griefs make me a stranger to that balmy Language.  Ama. 
Dear Sister, thy Passions are too violent; the Messengers are not yet all returned, nor have we seen Arratus. Enter Arratus.  Glo. 
And here he comes.  Zan. 
My Lord, you either come to share in Grief with us, or ease ours by some blessed discovery.  Arr. 
My Lord, my Son, my Daughter, and my—  Zan. 
Peace, no more, mix not theirs with a Sov'raigns' loss, whose least drop of Blood is worth a Thousand Lives, speak thy intelligence.  Arr. 
My Largest lies within the City walls, and there he has not yet been heard of; is none with him?  Zan. 
Yes, Oroandes, Enter a Messenger. here comes our last hopes, speak thy success.  Mess. 
Not good my Lord, we've travest all the Fields that Circles lofty Erix, and yet see no beam of blessed Intelligence; all we found worthy to fix an Observation on, was a place beneath the Hermit's Rock all stained with store of Blood, and near the foot this token of our Grief. Gives a bloody Handkerchief which was the Kings.  Zan. 
Oh my Prophetic fears!  Ama. 
Our sorrows are confirmed!  Glor. 
They are in Bloody Characters!  Arr. 
I'll go and secure the Citadel, and cry Treason.  Exit. Arratus. Zan. 
Sorrow out-grows all my Resolves, this is an Act so full of Horror 'tis terrible to name it; but if the Force of Syracuse can scourge the Traitors,  
— We'll have  
Their Heads to build a Temple o'er his Grave.  Exeunt   

ACT V.  

SCENE the Plains.  Enter the King lead by two Shepherds and Heroina. King. 
I'VE now got strength enough to render to you the fair preserver of my Life; my Spirits stir, as if they would shake off the sluggish weight of weakness.  Hero. 
How much in every twinkling of the eye doth he resemble my Heroic Love. Aside.  King. 
You're sad sweet Lady.  Hero. 
I have a Cause, and such a one, that did you know, your Goodness would Commiserate my wretched Fortune.  King. 
Reveal it Lady, I perhaps may be enabled then to dissipate your Griefs.  Hero. 
I was resolved to weep away my Time in private sorrow; but discovery cannot aggravate my woe; besides I may venture to lodge a secret, where I have found such temperate virtues. I'll only with this Question Usher in my own discovery; is Sicily your place of Birth, or not?  King. 
It is, and Breeding both.  Hero. 
I will not ask what were the Parentage, where I find Virtue's plant Nobility, yet would be loath to a Plebeian breast to trust what I must now divulge.  King. 
You may be confident I am a Gentleman, as well by Birth as Education, Lady.  Hero. 
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?  King. 
There was my Breeding Lady.  Hero. 
Near the Person of the King?  King. 
One of his Bedchamber, and 'tis no boast to say, as well beloved by him as any, there being in th' opinion of the Court, a near Resemblance of our looks.  Hero. 
Then sure my name is not a stranger to you, have you not heard Sir of the Cyprian Princess.  King. 
The Beauteous Heroina.  Hero. 
The wretched Heroina, such I'm sure is my condition in my present State.  King. 
Pardon the Child of Ignorance, my wild, and unbecoming Rudeness. Kneels.  Hero. 
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 walking I'll Relate. Enter two Bandits.  I Ban. 
A prize, a prize, a noble prize, seize you upon that pretty Shepherdess, while I dispatch the Guardian. Draws.  King. 
'Tis not so quickly done, and though as yet unable to defend, hither I'll fly for Rescue. Snatches the Bandit's Sword, who is going to seize Heroina. Now I'm prepared to scourge your saucy Insolence.  Fights with the first Bandetty and wounds him, the second leaves Heroina, and offers to seize the King; Enter Vanlore and Theocrine, Vanlore Draws, and drives the second Bandetty off; the first that was wounded by the King stays. Hero. 
This was a timely Rescue, and has by the fair Redemption of my Honour bound me to give you thanks.  King. 
I merit none; my Duty urged me to preserve that Life which they strove thus to Ravish. The brightest Stars that Ruled my Fate, did light me to this 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.  Hero. 
I must confess a debt of thanks to him, which if Irregular Humanity prove no Rebel to my safety, shall be suddenly discharged: Let this Villain attend us to the Court, there you'll find a Prince to be entreated, when your Advocate bears Heroina's name. I can forgive, and so I hope can you, although his Crimes merit a lasting punishment.  1 Ban. 
Pardon me best of Women, and impute Kneels. my Rudeness to my Ignorance. If any Service can Extenuate Crimes of such Monstrous Growth, my Blood shall pay the forfeit of my disobedience.  Hero. 
Your hopes of safety prompts me to believe you: Come Sir, you and that Gentleman shall attend me to the Court.  Van. 
We are your Vassals Madam, proud to have such a Command to Usher our desires.  Hero. 
And you Sir.  
There I'll complete that cure so well begun,  
And raise your fading hopes for what you've done.  Exeunt.  

SCENE a Tavern. A Table, Pen Ink and Paper in it.  Enter Led by the Nose, Sir Jasper Sympleton by maintainer, and Sir Simon Credulous by Slywit, disguised. Dra. 
Come, come along Sir, is't not enough to kill an honourable Gentleman, but you must Lampoon him when you've done, and wound his fame in Verse.  Jas. 
Damn if ever I writ a Verse in my Life, or any thing like it, alas I have no more wit than a Goose, and writings as disagreeable to my Nature, as Hanging: I must confess I have often had an Itching mind to Poetry, but could never obtain it.  Sly. 
And what makes your name Sir, crowded on the Title Page of several Plays in splendid Characters, as if that Ostentation did proclaim thee a man of wit and merit?  Sym. 
I see you are Ignorant of the English Customs; their men of Wit and Sense inclined to Poetry, have such a little share in the World's Treasure, their works and them alike go both a begging, and scarce a morning but we Easie-men (who rather then our lives would be accounted the Zanies of the Age) are troubled with their Visits, where for a Guinny we purchase the Labour of three Months, and then by our Authority, with the Acting Females (who do at upon us Gallants of the Times) the Play in our name's Acted, and by Consequence, 'cause all the World should be acquainted with our Folly (which we think Wit) some Greedy Bookseller pays dear for the Copy, and by his means 'tis Ushered into th' World; those Dedications writ by us (small Critics) never are honoured by a Noble Patroness, tending to down right railing at the Age, or finding fault perhaps with the best Poets.  Sly. 
This makes you Guilty of the last Lampoon, in which you have not only abused him who never was a Poet, but all the Poets of the Age; and therefore if you give us not (in the behalf of our dead Friend) sufficient satisfaction, you die immediately.  Sym. 
This 'tis to pretend to Poetry in a strange Country: I Gad in London, a man of Nonsense is as safe (amongst the Crew of Critics) as in a Holland's Leaguer, for they are more given to the Spirit of Contradiction, then that of Fighting. Aside.  Dra. 
Come Sir, dispatch, we are in haste.  Jas. 
So am I to be gone. Aside.  Sly. 
Swear Sir.  Sym. 
Swear what?  Sly. 
Either you did, or did not write the Verses.  Sym. 
I vow to Gad, and all that, I am Innocent.  Sly. 
That's but a weak Oath, and shows too must of Cowardice to gain belief, swear me a full mouthed Oath like a true Englishman.  Sym. 
Then on the Virtue of a Gentleman, and Honour of Sir Simon Credulous, I am not Guilty.  Sly. 
Honour and Virtue are two mighty strangers to an Ignoble breast; I cannot in the least Imagine they are lodged in yours. Come Gentlemen, here's Pen Ink and Paper, write every Letter that we shall command you, or die in disobeying.  Sym. 
Was ever poor Pretended led by the Nose before? Honour begone, to save my Life I'll do it; we are ready Sir.  Sir Jasper and Sir Simon go to the Table, and prepare to write. Sly. 
Write this then,— I am a Coward.  Sym. 
All the World knows that already, it needs no publication.  Sly. 
Write I Command you.  Both. 
I am a Coward.— Write.  Sly. 
An Errand stinking Coward.  Both. 
An Errand stinking Coward.— Write.  Dra. 
A Poetical Thief.  Jas. 
Not I by Heaven.  Dra. 
Write I say.  Both. 
A— Write.  Sly. 
And a damned Son of a Whore, if ever I writ these Verses.  Both. 
And a— Write.  Jas. 
All this I Gad is true Gentlemen, have you done?  Dra. 
Not yet Sir, one word more, and I do here promise to receive into my Arms, the Lady yesterday Married, to have and to hold, for better for worse, and so forth, with a promise to make her a Jointure of Three Hundred a Year; to keep (and never to part with) her, as being a Match only fit for me— Jasper Sympleton.  Jas. 
Withal my heart. Jasper writes.  
Now Sir Simon I think I am even with you. Aside.  
Here Sir I deliver this to you as my Act and Deed.  Gives maintainer the Paper. Dra. 
So this is well. And now Gentlemen, 'cause you shall be eased of all your fears and miseries, all disputations 'twixt you two must cease; the Lady, the Beauteous Lady Theocrine by Nuptial tie is yours, and as your Wife receive her.  Enter Julia. Jas. 
Withal my heart, now you have played the part of honest men, welcome into my Arms.  Dra. 
Pray Heaven you find us so, do you know me Sir?  Discovers himself. Jas. 
What maintainer, Servant to my Rival Sir Simon Credulous, nay then I fear the worst.  Dra. 
I am the honest man you talk of Sir, and 'cause you shall not dwell in Ignorance too long, behold whom you have Married.  Discovers Julia. Jas. 
Cheated, Guled, abused by Heaven; have I Married this Chambermaid?  Jul. 
This Chamber-woman you have Sir, I was a Maid until you made me otherwise; and afterwards you would persuade me to have been as false as Dunkirk, and in one hour have received English, Dutch, French, and abused them all; but you see the Fates decreed it otherwise, I am now your Wife.  Jas. 
The Devil shall be mine as soon; go home to your old Office, keep the Door, and let in every paltry Knight or Squire, that gives a Guinny and a Kiss for Entrance, who being slighted by your Peevish Lady, falls foul on you, as being loath to lose th' Imagination of Enjoyment, though with her meanest Servants.  Sym. 
Good Bully Sympleton, how like an Ass you look now, I must confess you have such a smart way of Courtship, such taking Charms, such sweet Devices, no Woman can hold out. Wish you much Joy Sir. Gad maintainer let's serenade him with the second part to the same Tune.  Sings Ridiculously. 
I had a Miss, a Dainty, Dainty Miss,  
Who could at once, Dissemble, Cog, and Kiss;  
This Miss I Gad grew weary of the Life,  
Jilted Sir Jasper, and became a Wife.  
How do you like it Bully, Ha?  Dra. 
Come, come Sir, be patient, you are now a Knight Alamode, a Courtier of the Fashion, for scarce one of them but Marry some Debauched Lady or other, and count it happiness if but three Nations have enjoyed her; and this Pastry is of your own Cutting up, and no doubt will prove a Virtuous Wife.  Jas. 
A Virtuous Devil she may: Pox of the Sex in general, and in particular thee: farewell Wife, farewell Bully; mayst thou Love on, till thou Reelst like a Drunken Dutchman, and in that Humour Commit Adultery with some Goatish Citizen, till the hot Pestilence of Pleasure sink thee into another World.  Offers to go, but is hindered by maintainer. Dra. 
Stay Sir, stay, I have your hand here to confirm a Contract, which I give up to Julia, and here I vow by all those Plagues you heaped upon her head, to kill you instantly, unless you take her to your Arms.  Jas. 
Why this to your friend maintainer? Pox 're'r a man of Wit, and Merit, and I know have more discretion, then to Bubble your Obliging Friend and Servant.  Dra. 
I am resolved nothing shall stop my fury; take her, or—  Jas. 
Pox on ye, come, had I Courage enough to die, I would be hanged before I'd have a Chambermaid.  Sym. 
A Chambermaid, Ha, Ha, Ha; give me thy hand Sympleton, give you much joy, a Chambermaid, Ha.  Jas. 
Well, well Sir, let nothing trouble you, my Chambermaid may be a Lady as soon as your Lordship.  Sym. 
Give you much joy, I say no more Bully, but now I hope I may Court my Mistress without the trouble of Poetising, Drinking, or Whoring, Ha, Bully Sympleton.  Sly. 
You may Sir, but she's Married.  Sym. 
The Devil she is, to whom?  Sly. 
A Shepherd Sir, one poor but honest, and such a one as Nature only made equal in Graces to compare with her, won by her prayers and tears; I stole her hence, and gave her to a faithful Shepherd, who was her Conduct to him.  Sym. 
'Sdeath am I gold by Shepherds? the base Slaves shall die: who was the Principal?  Sly. 
One though unfortunate, may boast himself a Soldier and a Gentleman, one whom she thought was Dead, the worthy Vinbore.  Sym. 
A very honest fellow I Gad, and one I love extremely, though I never saw him; he shall enjoy her, my blessing wait upon him, that is, continual Love, and want of Women Kind, light on him.  Enter a Constable▪ and Watchmen. Con. 
There, there are the Murderers, seize on 'em all; if they refuse, knock'em down, we have the Law on our sides.  They offer to seize 'em. Sly. 
Draw Gentlemen, they b●●e the sight of a Sword.  Sym. 
Not I by Heaven.  Jas. 
Not I by Jove; what Draw against a Constable?  Sly. 
What Brother Constable, are you here?  Con. 
Keep off Sir, how came you to be my Brother?  Sly. 
When you were hot upon the search for my Master, this Gentleman's Murderer, I to secure his Person which might casually fall into your hands, and to create a Jest, disguised myself into the shape of an Officer, and coming into your Company, I carried you to the Tavern, where both the Murderer and Murdered stood like Images, and to maintain the Jest, I appeared as fearful as your Worship, giving the first start at what I knew so well, Sir Simon Credulous in Armour. Discovers himself.  Jas. 
What Sly, my subtle servingman?  Sly. 
The same Sir, born to bring you out of these dangerous troubles.  Con. 
Was there no Ghost in the Tavern then?  Sly. 
None I assure you, unless these Gentlemen are Devils.  Con. 
Oh dishonour to our Office, and stain to this staff of Dignity, seize upon 'em all, I'll teach you to abuse Authority, you are as wicked as Players, who make no more of a Constable, then of a Cobbler.  Sly. 
The Cause you seize us for's so means we scorn to stand against it,— here we all yield ourselves, do what you can, or dare. All deliver their Swords.  Con. 
Nay now you are Civil Gentlemen, and were't not that I have another Warrant, which is too great to disobey, I'd give you all your Liberties; the King is lost, and 'tis to be supposed Murdered, upon which I have Order to secure every suspicious Person▪  Dra. 
How the King lost?  Sly. 
And Murdered!  Jas. 
Oh Horror!  Sym. 
Nay now we may be hanged indeed, but sure the King had more wit then to die of his own accord, 'tis mear Treason by Jove.  Con. 
It can't be less, therefore Gentlemen till news comes of our Sovereign, this Tavern shall be your Goal, to no worse place I'll carry you.  Sym. 
I Gad thou art the merriest Constable in Europe; come along Brother Traitors, Madam Sympleton you are a Conspirator too, come along Boys:  
When sparkish Bacchanalians Traitors turn,  
We'll swim through Fire, and in Canary burn.  Exeunt. Manet Sly and Drayner. Sly. 
So now we are Revenged, and Profits grow  
More great, then ere this Fops has to bestow,  
When Profit and Revenge together meet;  
Each hour successes Crowned fall at our feet:  
How bright each Motion to that Bliss doth prove!  
Revenge once Compassed, tastes more sweet then Love. Exeunt.   

SCENE the Court.  Enter the King and Vanlore, leading Heroina, attended by Theocrine Shepherds, and Shepherdesses, at one door; at the other, Zannazarro, Glorianda, and Amasia, all in Mourning, attended by the King's Guard, Zannazarro kneels, and having kissed Heroina's hand, Roses. Zan. 
The best of welcomes this sad place affords wait on your Grace's Entertainment.  Her. 
I thank you Sir, but must first Employ your service in declaring, what these silent Emblems of a sorrow means?  Zan. 
Wilt please you Madam, lend your attention to the saddest Story that e'er did yet Seicilia's Annals Blot; The Scene draws, and discovers the Picture of the King. Behold great Princess, all but the memory of the living fame of Syracusias' Monarch. Heroina swoons.  Glo. 
Help, help the Princess.  Ama. 
Madam, dear Madam.  Her. 
Oh, Oh, Oh.  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 mind of my deceased Lord. Why stand you thus amazed? Enter Oroandes, Zannazarro, and the rest seem amazed.  Zan. 
Pardon us Madam; had the united dust of some dead friend, whose memories ne'er forgot, visited Earth in his own shape again, our wonder could not have arrived unto a higher Pitch. Let me Embrace thee friend.  Oro. 
Stand off, yet farther off,— you know not what you touch; you safer far may grapple with a flame; or in his midnight walks, affront a friend armed with full Vials of destructive wrath: the Graves Inhabitants, when folded in Corruption, are not more defiled then I.  Zan. 
What tends this Language to?  Oro. 
Destruction, Zannazarro.  Ama. 
How hast thou lost thy Temper Oroandes, prithee look on me friend, am I grown a stranger to thy knowledge?  Oro. 
Leave me Amasia, thou art of kin unto those hollowed Angels that did once attend my Actions, and must now with them a stranger to thy Oroandes grow.  Hero. 
You are to me a stranger Sir, yet in your looks something I read, that may concern your absent Prince.  Oro. 
I do, and would Relate it, but that it hath a sound so full of horror, I tremble to Relate it; yet I must, no other way can lead my Soul out of this wilderness of flesh; he's Murdered.  Zan. 
How?  Glo. 
By whom?  Oro. 
By me, do ve start? 'twas I, 'twas I, that when your blooming hope 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 Land 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? Offers to Draw.  Ama. 
Oh hold, believe him not, he Raves.  Oro. 
Thou hast but injured me Amasia, in staying their just fury.  Glo. 
Oh Brother if this be true, thou hast undone us all.  Oro. 
True, do not think this any Natural Distemper, that spreads this Malignant Vapour through my Veins, which nought but the Poison of my Guilt Corrupts; yes 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. Flings Zannazarro a Note. And now I've done my Business on the Earth, I'll give the first stroke to Revenge, and here open a passage for your Swords to Enter. Draws his Sword, and offers to kill himself; is stayed by the King. What bold hand is that?  King. 
One that here may claim a privilege. Discovers himself, all kneel by Heroina. Rise thou true Mirror of all Royalty, ne'er higher in our favour.  Zan. 
Our Gracious Sovereign!  Omnes. 
Welcome, Oh welcome Royal Sir.  King. 
You are all my much loved Subjects, such in whom never was King more Blessed; Madam your presence Crowns our Joys, now I stand Exalted in the Zenith of my Fate; who would not pass a Stormy Night, to be thus Courted by a Glorious Day? You all are sharers in my heart, but thou my Love To Heroina. the chief Commandress of that Royal Fort.  Hero. 
My Joys are now Completed, and I find a Sea of Pleasure Crowns my Dangers past; what those were, at your leisure I'll Relate.  
Now Joy and Thanks alike my Breast possess,  
Which leads me to a World of Happiness.  King. 
Hymen shall light us to that World of Joy,  
Which once possessed, shall all our Cares destroy.  Arratus. 
I should chide you, but 'tis no time to wear an angry brow, although the Crime was monstrous,, to higher two wicked Slaves to Murder Vanlore, who then lay Leaguer at Ardenna, but by Miracle preserved, to save mine and Heroina's Life, for which all he desires, is your free Consent to Marry Theocrine.  Vanlore and Theocrine kneels. Arr. 
My Lord he has it and I Joy to hear his Life was saved to Act 〈◊〉 brave a ●●eed, Rise and receive my Blessing, you are a worthy Son.  King. 
To add a Title to that Honour, I here Create him 〈◊〉 you Oroandes to a Place of greater worth, and nearer to our 〈◊〉, thy Loyal 〈◊〉 merits it.  Omnes. 
Long live Antequam and Heroina, King and Queen of Sicily.  King. 
My Debts are great to all, but must remain in full Arrears until my Offerings paid to fair Heroina give me liberty:  
Then lulled in Peace▪ and by this prize set down,  
we'll find new ways past Victories to Crown.  
The mighty Bliss about my Soul doth move  
In different forms, like unknown Joys Above,  
B'ing Crowned at once with Loyalty and Love.    
FINIS.   

EPILOGUE.  
WHAT strange unkindness doth amongst you Reign,  
Sure you will ne'er leave off this Damning strain;  
You Sans remorse, like Cruel Victors kill;  
Both Friend and Foe must suffer by your will,  
And all you do is good, though ne'er so ill;  
Your Native sweetness sure is from you fled,  
And all kind Nature is Extinct and Dead;  
Like Miss Enjoyed, you lead us to the Door,  
Quite Cloyed, you thrust us out, and Love no more,  
Leave us like her to all Ensuing harms,  
And Curse the ill, because you hate her Charms:  
By Instigation, or by Precept led,  
You that are Wits the Giddy faction head;  
And taught by them, ill Nature and their spite,  
Y' Explode what they call wrong, though ne'er so right.  
Like Massanello's our kind Judges sit,  
Cry down the Play, because they hate the Wit;  
Dam me says one, why so Satiric here,  
What means the Fop to Ramble from his sphere,  
And Carp at things, the gravest Poets fear?  
Troth 'twas Invention, though he missed the way,  
He writ, and hoped to please as well as they,  
But he mistook, and Jaded his poor Muse,  
And what he though Jocose, proved mere abuse.  
The Drudging Scribbler quakes within, for fear  
You should turn Hector's and dissect him here;  
His little frailty sure you can forgive,  
And Impudence you know deserves to live;  
You may be merciful, though you are Foes,  
Since to your Rage at once he did Expose  
All he held dear, to Led you by the Nose.