THE Roman Generals: OR THE DISTRESSED LADIES.  
By J. D. of Grayes-Inn, Gent.  
Quis Martem Tunica tectum adamantina Dignè scripserit?  Horat. Ode 6. 
LICENCED,  
Novemb. 7. 1667.  
Roger L'Estrange.  
LONDON, Printed for Samuel Herrick, and are to be sold at his Shop at Grayes-Inn-Gate in Holborn. 1667.   

To the Right Honourable ROBERT Lord BROOK, Baron Brook of Beauchamp-Court, Lord Lieutenant of Staffordshire.  
My Lord,  
THE Roman Generals humbly beg, that They may walk abroad under Your Honourable Protection; It being as dangerous for a Poem to appear in Public without a good Patron, as it would be for a Ship richly fraught, to sail among Pirates without a Convoy. The Critics of Our Times pouring in, whole Broadsides of Censure, before They Know, whether the thing may prove Prize or not. They are Ingenious in Other men's Books, but seldom in Their Own, and think every Imprimatur, gives them Licence to become Ridiculous: Like the Bear they think their own Issue most beautiful; and therefore, whatsoever the Product of their Brains be, they think may pass, without any Elaborations of Art to lick it into fashion. For My Part, I can scarce without a Blush, christian this Infant of My Fancy, with the Name of a POEM, since I am conscious of its want of Merit. But if Your Lordship vouchsafe to find to it, Your Acceptance may raise it to that Title: For as Led, or some such inferior Metals, though They have but little worth in Themselves, yet from Their Stamp, They receive Value and Estimation. The Story is Heroic, and in that, as far above a Common Patronage, as it is unworthy of Yours. I have neither altogether followed, nor yet declined History, lest by the One, My Play might be took for a Piece translated out of Livy or Lucan, or by the Other, for an Idle Romance; but like the Traveler, for Delight, sometimes I follow, and sometimes I quit My Road. Your Lordship may blame Me, that I spent My time in Writing of a Play, when I might have improved Myself in the Study of the Law; truly, I made it My Diversion, not my Study; for after I had read a Sect or two in Littleton, I then to divert Myself, took Caesar's Commentaries, or read the Lives of My Roman Generals, out of Plutarch. I Know the Common Fate of a Play, it seldom Lives more days than the Word has Letters in't, unless some more than Common Influence preserve it longer. So that 'tis alone Your Lordship's favourable Acceptance, which can preserve Mine to a longer Date, which is already confident of Your Protection, since Your Early Services for Your Country, have allied You to the Glory of the Roman Generals.  
My Lord, I am the Admirer of Your Honour, and the obliged Servant of Your Lordship's Goodness. J. DOVER.   

PROLOGUE.  

THE Poet had designed His Play should be,  
Bestowed on Both the Houses Nursery.  
His modest Judgement, deemed it most fit,  
In Nurseries to plant Young twigs of Wit.  
Thinking to shun A Public Censure, since  
They count Ten People There, an Audience.  
Thus A Dull Sermon may be took for good,  
Preached before few, where 'tis not understood.  
So He would shun the Censure of this Age,  
Where Poets for Their Plays are brought o'th' Stage.  
But new Resolves did tell Him, that 'twas worse,  
To set the Roman Generals out to Nurse,  
Then to expose Them to the World; since They,  
Are Champions able to defend His Play.  
As for the Ladies which are in Distress,  
The Author does presume, You can't do less,  
Then entertain Them, which Acceptance will,  
Render Them happy, and Him grateful still.    

Dramatis Personae.  

I. Caesar.  
His two Generals. 

M. Valerius.  
Curio.    
Pompey.  
Consuls.  
Senators.  
Crassus' his Ghost.  
Uxama. A Spanish Lord, in Love with Selania.  
Selania: A Sardinian Lady.  
Astragia and her Sister: Two Distressed Ladies.  
Parmeno. Servant to Uxama taken Prisoner, with Six other Spaniards.  
An Augur.  
Soldiers.    

THE Roman Generals: OR THE Distressed Ladies.  

ACTUS I. SCENA PRIMA.  Caesar's Tents as in Gallia. J. Caesar, Valerius, Curio, Soldiers. Caesar. 
THE Enterprise as I would wish succeeds,  
And the Proud City trembles at Our Deeds.  
Who aims at Greatness, or at public fame,  
By some great Action must advance His Name.  
I look not on My Birth, but what I've done,  
Can Glory be entailed upon the Son?  
Fortune and Resolution both intent  
This great beginning, for some glorious End.  
Whilst Valiant Crassus, does in Asia stay,  
Pompey in Spain, and I in Gallia,  
We to the World shall give Decrees; and Rome,  
Proud Rome Herself must in subjection come.  Enter a Messenger, He presents a Letter to Caesar, which He reads in private. Valer. 
He, who His Country serves, with Justice may  
Challenge, nay force Rewards, if None will pay.  
It is a grief distracts a Generous Mind,  
When more to Chance, than Merit is assigned.  
Merits more great than Caesar, who can plead?  
What He hath done for Rome Respect should breed.  Curio. 
Who ever saved a Town by His Defence,  
And did expect the Town for Recompense?  
What though Great Caesar, hath in Battle stood,  
For to maintain Rome's Interest with His blood?  
'Tis but a Debt that's due. Let that suffice,  
Must She Herself, become Her Champion's Prize?  Valer. 
But if such Acts meet envy for Return,  
It Kindles Passion, and it makes us burn.  
When Senators repay such Deeds with spite,  
As Our Own Carvers, We Ourselves requite;  
And than Our public Power We reduce,  
To private Ends, and to peculiar Use.  Caesar having read the Letter, seems troubled. Curio. 
What Cloud of Fortune Sir, invades the Light,  
And masks those beams, with which You shone so bright?  
Strange Intervenes of Chance, that can molest  
A Mind where Glory has the Interest.  Caesar. 
Crassus is slain; Two only Left behind,  
To run that race of Glory, We have designed.  
Myself and Pompey, Who grow greater thus  
When as His part too, must be shared by Us.  
Though He be fell, yet Thou shalt find O Rome,  
That I and Pompey, will pronounce Thy Doom.  
He should have shared Thy Greatness, but since dead,  
we'll part the Stake, and humble Thy Proud Head.  
How fell the Roman?—  Messeng. 
— Sir till fresh supplies  
Of Parthian Arrows darkened all the Skies,  
Whose poisoned Heads, joined with unequal force,  
Killed Our Brave General, and beat Our Horse,  
Till then Hope led Us on; for Victory  
Upon a Doubtful Wing, did seem to fly.  
Crassus' fought still; as Lion's scorn to yield.  
But 'gainst unequal Dogs maintain the Field:  
Not by their Valour overcome, but force,  
We rallied up some of Our scattered Horse.  
Crassus' with These retreats to th' Asian Shore,  
And like the Sea, foams that He can't do more.  
Blocked up by Asian Horse; at last He rides,  
Into the Sea, like Neptune on the Tides.  
Expecting in that Field no Enemy,  
Unless like Him, He had resolved to die.  
At last the gallant Parthian General,  
Both to partake His glory, and His fall,  
Followed Brave Crassus: whilst th' Insulting Waves,  
Present at Once Their Triumphs, and Their Graves.  
Their mutual wounds gave tincture to the flood,  
And purled the Sea, with Clarrets of Their blood.  
When the Barbarians saw Their Gen'ral die,  
They made strange Outcries, and began to fly.  
It may seem strange, but yet Great Sir, 'tis true,  
We were O'ercome, even whilst we did pursue.  
They used their Bows in flight, and in short space,  
Killed more, than when They fought Us face to face.  
Thus fell Our Fortune—  Caesar. 
— 'Tis but just We should  
Who share His Glory, recompense His blood.  Enter another Messenger. Messeng. 
Pompey's returned with Victory from Spain,  
But Crassus by the Parthian Arms is slain.  Caesar. 
Ill News like a Contagion spreads too fast,  
And in its slowest pace, makes too much haste.  Messeng. 
Neither Marcellus Sir, nor Cato Now,  
Envy the Laurels, which do crown Your Brow.  
Each face is crowned with smiles, and All concur,  
By gen'ral Vote, to choose You Consul Sir.  
But first Great Sir, You must Your Troops disband.  Caesar. 
No Man's secure, if He unarmed stand.  
Your Message friend, suspicion does create,  
Their Love I fear's but Vizard to Their Hate.  
They fain would have Me, to disband My Men,  
That so I might become a Prey to Them.  Curio. 
First with Your Army march to Rome, and then,  
If You think fit, You may disband Your Men.  
This Sirs Your safest Way, and by this Course,  
What They refuse to give, 've Power to force.  
If We lay down Our Arms, We do as They,  
Who some officious Constable obey,  
Who in the King's Name, does command Their Swords,  
And then presumes to give Them saucy Words.  Valerius. 
Although They urge it was the Ancient way,  
To come unarmed, Yet pray You Sir disobey.  
From These Our Swords, We safety may expect,  
And from Their malice, may Ourselves protect.  
Whilst in Our Ensigns conquering Eagles fly,  
All Birds of Lesser Prey must quit the Sky.  Curio. 
Our Ancestors, Who Candidates did stand,  
For Consulships, or other high Command.  
To be chose Senators, or so; still first,  
Laid down Their Arms, and did the Senate trust.  
But 'tis not safe for You; We rather may,  
Pervert such Customs, than ourselves betray.  Valerius. 
Greatness till Now, might but a Shrub's height own,  
Which Now in You, Great Sir, a Cedar's grown.  
And hence, They do repine at Your bright Fame,  
And by Their hatred, would Eclipse Your Name.  
Your Greatness Sir, strikes Their Ambitious Head,  
The Lion which They fear, They'd trample, dead.  
A Will They have, but 'tis the Power They want,  
If you lay down Your Arms, That Power You grant.  Caesar. 
My Lords! Your sober Councils I approve,  
The senate's hate I fear not, but Their Love.  
Pretending Love, they think to gain their Ends,  
For so disguised, we know not foes from friends.  
Dogs that intent to by't, do seldom Bark,  
But with their silent Chaps, they wound their Mark.  
Love they pretend, but Envy they design,  
Castles we cannot scale, we undermine.  
But let them still pretend; in vain they set  
Lime-twigs for Caesar's hands; in vain the Net.  
In vain such Serpents show a painted skin,  
That think to tempt my fingers to their sting.  
For by your Councils, being thus forewarned,  
we'll keep ourselves secure, whilst thus forearmed.  
Cato and proud Marcellus I defy,  
At abject Preys eagle's disdain to fly.  
Fortune my Name above their Pride, has born,  
And as they envy me, so them I scorn.  
Give Order for the Armies March. That Fate  Exe. Valer. & Curio. 
Which France hath felt. I'll make Rome tremble at.  
Her Senators and Consuls too, shall stand  
As thunderstruck, when I do lift my hand.  
If they refuse to do what I think Just,  
I'll lay Rome's stately Towners' in the Dust.  
Break up her Treasure, and myself requite,  
For all the Service I have done in fight.  
Her Borders with the noise of Drums I'll fill,  
And strike Convulsions, in her seven top't Hill.  Enter Valerius & Curio, Colours flying, the Drums beat a March. 
Those Eagles have brought Conquest on their wing,  
And to us yet, this Sword victorious been,  
Over the greater part o'th' world. And now,  
Proud Rome shall know, what Roman hands can do.  Exeunt Omnes, the Drums beating a March. The Scene is a Tempestuous Sea. Two Ladies are discovered as cast on Shoar on a Planck. 1. Lady. 
What Shoar is this, that we are cast upon?  2. Lad. 
Alas! some foreign Coast to us unknown.  1. Lad. 
Let's humbly Kiss it, what so e'er it be,  
Since from devour'ing Seas, it sets us free.  2. Lad. 
Here we perchance may spend our Days in grief,  
Strangers in foreign Lands, find cold relief.  
And when grief spins our time, we cannot say  
We Live, but rather die our time away.  1. Lady. 
But yet our Sex, sure will some pity move,  
Or else our Beauty will procure some Love.  
Have Storms been so Injurious as to plough,  
Furrows on ours, as on the Ocean's Brow?  
We want our Glasses to consult, let's spy  
Our forms i'th' Mirrhors of each other's Eye.  
Is all our Beauty gone, and all our Arts,  
Our Charms and Graces, which did conquer hearts?  
Cannot these Quivers yield one Dart, may prove,  
To wound with Pity, or to wound with Love?  2. Lad. 
Alas! that Power is gone: We hope in vain,  
That such mild Basilisks can Conquest gain.  
'Tis not the Martial but the Amorous Crew,  
That Women conquer, and that Eyes subdue.  
This Land perhaps contains a Race of Men,  
With hearts of Stone; what Weapons have we then?  
When all our sighs and tears have no more force,  
Then drops on Marbles, and meet no Remorse.  1. Lad. 
Were this the Land, where cruel Scythians dwell,  
Or were it some inhospitable Cell.  
If once the fire of Love, did warm their mind,  
'Twould make the Scythians Courteous, Tigers kind.  
Why since in every Breast, Love does control,  
A●d warm the North, as well as Southern Pole,  
Should we despair, or fear our fate, although,  
These people in their Breasts, had Alps of Snow?  2. Lad. 
I am for going back to Sea again,  
we'll float, to seek new fortune on the Main.  
Perhaps the Planck, as well may us restore,  
Unto our Native, as a foreign Shoar.  1. Lad. 
No. Being safe, let us not trust the waves,  
Let we our Country seeking, find our graves.  
Hark how the Winds do blow, and Seas do roar,  
I fear this Country, but I fear them more.  2. Lad. 
The Sea seems troubled at our fate; and moans,  
Weeping in waves, whilst Rocks do Echo groans.  
The Winds do murmur, at our shipwrecked fate,  
And chide the Seas, till they new storms create.  1. Lad. 
No more I'll trust the Sea, though she should smile,  
Then I would do the weeping Crocodile.  
If we return again, we do as they,  
Who fly one Bear, to be another's Prey.  
we'll try our Fortune here at Land. We may  
Hope better Chance, Night ushers in the Day.  2. Lad. 
May the kind Gods, whose eyes with just respect  
Look down, obnoxious Innocents' protect.  Exeunt hand in hand. The Scene is an Italian Plain, Where an Augur is discovered as amongst Sheep. A Nymph passeth by, scornfully, He Sings. THE SONG, Augur. 
NYmph why so coy? you hope in vain,  
To cool my Bosom with disdain.  
Scorn can no more my heat assuage,  
Then Payls of Oil a fire's Rage.  
If you would quench my hot desire,  
Contribute fuel to the fire,  
For nought my Breast can satisfy,  
Unless You burn, as will as I.  The Nymph Answers, Nymph 
I'll never burn in flames again,  
But pay your falsehood with disdain.  
If Scorn cannot assuage your beat,  
Nor make you from my Love retreat.  
My absence shall put out the fire,  
When it wants fuel 'twill expire.  
I will remove the scornful guest,  
And thus I'll satisfy your Breast.  The Augur Answers, Augur. 
If that your Rebel thoughts foreknew,  
Or thought your Absence could subdue  
My Love. You than would use that Art,  
To make a Conquest of my heart.  
But you a Conquest hope in vain,  
Whilst you the Fortress do maintain,  
I'll never raise the Siege, but swore,  
To make an everlasting War.  The Nymph Answers. Nymph. 
When I beleaguered you with Love,  
You in the Siege did constant prove.  
And seemed as much to scorn the Foe,  
As now, your falsehood, makes me do.  
From your Example I am grown,  
So wise as to maintain my own,  
With useless Troops of Words be gone,  
Invade not my Dominion.  Exit Nymp. He follows her hastily, and returns solus. Augur. 
The day is overcast, methinks I see,  
Laborious Aunts and the Industrious Bee.  
Aunts to their Hillocks travel with their Packs,  
Bees flying to their Hives, with thighs of Wax.  
These do foretell some Rain; besides the Sheep  
Feeding so fast, I know the heavens will weep.  
But let it rain, I'll to you Shepherd's Bower,  
And sing, whilst spongy Clouds weep down the Shower.  He is going off. Enter Fairies. Fair. 
Stay! stay! What makest thou on our Fairy ground?  
Seest thou not here a Ring, where we dance round?  
Pinch him, till blood come, nothing shall suffice,  They pinch him Aug. 
Accept Lamb's blood then for a Sacrifice.  He cries out. Fair. 
Nought can suffice for coming on our ground,  
Unless like us, thou knewest to dance a Round.  Aug. 
I cannot dance, but I can Pipe at need,  
Pan ne'er in all his Life had better Reed.  Fair. 
Sat down, and with thy Pipe begin a strain,  
It shall suffice. we'll trip it o'er the Plain.  The Augur sits down, the Fairies dance an Antic Measure round him, singing as they dance. Fairies sing and dance. 

WE dance an Antic Round,  
Blue Rings on the Ground,  
Shall always be found,  
Where we keep Rendezvous.  
We love the kind Swains,  
Who delight on the Plains,  
At night comes their gains,  
When we think on their Shoes.   

Pinch the next, pinch him round,  
Until there be found,  
Like the stains on our ground,  
Blue spots in his Arms.  
we'll dance and we'll sing,  
Whilst we always do bring,  
In our fingers our Sting,  
And rejoice at his Harms.   Exeunt. The Augur rises and speaks. Aug. 
I've been a Piper made indeed I'm sure,  
This wind, these water Music did procure.  
The rain I did foresee, fell from mine Eyes,  
Here lies the Shower in Tears, and these the Skies.  
These Fairies were the Aunts and Bees, which bring,  
Not in their tails like them, but thus their sting.  
But Night draws on, and heavens resplendent Eye,  
Winks as 'twould say, Sister approach the Sky.  Enter Valerius, Attendants. Valer. 
Are you an Augur?—  Aug. 
— Yes.  Valer. 
— I'm hither sent.  
By Caesar, for to bring you, to his Tent.  Aug. 
Sir, I must beg this Night to be at home,  
And in the Morn, I'll tell him things to come.  Exeunt severally. The Scene is a Grove. Enter the two former Ladies. 1. Lad. 
We have wandered all this Day, within this Grove,  
we'll lodge to Night, that we may dream of Love.  
And so delude the tedious time away;  
Night locking up our griefs, till break of Day.  2. Lad. 
The day grief's Term time is, but then Night brings  
A short Vacation, on her sable wings.  
Let us lie down to sleep, grief hidden Lies,  
Whilst slumber shuts the Casements of our Eyes.  They lie down, Flagilets' play, a Flourish within the Grove, to the Tunes of Birds. Both rise. 1. Lad. 
'Tis Philomela, who by her warbling Lay,  
Bids a good Night to''th' Planet of the Day.  2. Lad. 
The Birds are gone to roost, the Laurels nod,  They seem to listen. 
As Daphne slept, or started at the God.  
The Sun's to Thetis gone, to take his rest,  
Betwixt the Azure Pillows of her Breast.  
Under these Courteous shades, we'll lodge to Night,  
Till on her scarlet Wings, Morn brings the Light.  Exeunt hand in hand into the Grove.  

ACTUS II. SCENA PRIMA.  Caesar is discovered asleep in his Pavilion, a Page playing on a Lute, and two Soldiers standing Sentinel. Enter the Augur. Caesar ariseth and come on the Stage. Caesar. 
HOw now? Can you foretell Events to come,  
Or do you know, what is decreed of Rome?  Aug. 
Command your Men away, the things you'll hear,  
Should not divulged be, to every Ear,  Caesar Nods. Exeunt. The Augur circles with his Wand, and speaks. Birds appear, Eagles, and Vultures. 
Whether to the Left or Right,  
The winged Troops do take their flight.  
If to the Left, it does portend,  
Some Evil will accrue i'th' End.  
If to the Right it does presage,  
Prosperity will crown the Age.  Caesar. 
What mean those Vultures, and yond Eagles?  Aug. 
— Bloody War,  
And more than them, yond Blazing-Star,  
Which in the Eastern quarter shines,  
Men speak by Words, the Gods by Signs.  
Strange Omens in a time so short,  
Predicting Birds do now report,  
Tarquin's Lust did End the Kings,  
And two men's Pride Rome's Ruin brings.  
She by one blow shall lose far more,  
Then many Battles gained before.  
Great Sir, in sybil's Books 'tis said,  
Till by a Prince her Bands be lead,  
Rome o'er the Parthians can't prevail,  
And Sibyl's Books do seldom fail.  
The Parthians do our Power disdain,  
Remember Crassus there was slain,  
Vengeance for his death pursue.  Caesar. 
I have Foes at home, that I must first subdue.  Aug. 
Behold a Dismal sight, see where  
The Ghost of Crassus does appear.  Crassus passes by the Pavilion. Caesar stands as frighted. Ghost. 
If thou dost fear, I will away.  Caesar. 
Can Caesar fear? stay Crassus' stay,  Ghost. 
The Senate mask their fatal harms,  
As Circe once her poisonous charms.  
Come not on the Icy ground,  
The Senate would thy Power confound.  
Perfidious Pompey broken hath,  
Those Vows by which, we sealed our faith,  
When we did combine of late,  
For to share the Roman State.  
Since Julia's and my Death, I know,  
He does contrive thine Overthrow.  
Thy safety in thine Army lies,  
Boldly thou may'st his Power despise.  
He shall be overthrown by thee,  
But then Great Caesar, think on me.  Caesar. 
The Augur tells me, sybil's Books have said,  
That by a Prince the Romans must be led,  
Before the Parthians can be conquered.  Ghost. 
True. But when thou art a Prince, say,  
Wilt thou then March to Asia,  
For to revenge my death?—  Caesar. 
— If e'er I come,  
To sway the Sceptre, as the Prince of Rome,  
I will.—  Ghost. 
— Enough. I must away,  
The Morn does usher in the Day.  
My Ghost hastes to the Asian Flood.  Exit. Caesar. 
I'll pacify thy Ghost with Parthian Blood.  Exit. The Scene is the Laurel Grove. Enter the two Ladies as from out the Grove. 1. Lad. 
The Stars start from their Dreams, and seem to say,  
We must unto our Mansions float away.  
Lest staying here, heavens resplendent Eye,  
Should put us out, as Glow-worm's of the Sky.  
For now the Champion of the day does rise,  
And routs those Common Link-bois from the Skies.  A Flourish from Flagilets within. Both. 
Hark, Hark.—  2. Lad. 
'Tis Philomela, whose warbles seem to say,  
Make Room there, for the Planet of the Day.  1. Lad. 
Would Night again begloomed this glorious place,  
Whose winged Tenants mock us to our Face.  
Might an Eternal sleep our Sense delude,  
Who late were Inmates to that Solitude.  
That we might find like them who Opium take,  
Our Souls i'th' other world, when as we wake.  
My sorrow whilst I speak my Tears exacts,  
And turns my weeping Eyes to Cataracts.  She weeps. 2. Lad. 
Why weep'st Secreta? come discharge your Mind,  
Sorrow when 'tis declared, relief may find.  1. Lad. 
'Tis most unjust my sorrow to reveal,  2. Lad. 
'Tis most unkind your sorrow to conceal,  
Your Shipwrecked fortune I did share at Sea,  
Let me at Land in grief your sharer be.  1. Lad. 
If in my grief you should a sharer be,  
The Shipwreck would be worse, then that at Sea.  2. Lad. 
Not knowing of your sorrow, whilst you cry,  
I'm Shipwrecked by the Tempests in your Eye.  1. Lad. 
If in mine Eyes such Tempests you do find,  
You'll find far greater Tempests in my Mind.  2. Lad. 
Come speak your Mind, that I at last may prove,  
Myself your friend, and manifest my Love.  
For in your grief I'll share, 'tis some redress,  
To have Companions when we're in Distress.  1. Lad. 
You force my tears and tongue. First Madam know,  
That to Sardinia I my Birthright owe.  
My Name's Selania; I to Spain did come,  
When bloody War called brave Uxama home,  2. Lad. 
You called yourself Secreta.—  Selania. 
— 'Tis not shame,  
If Love be all the fault, to change one's Name.  
My Name's Selania, when yerst while in Spain,  
Thousands by Pompey's bloody Sword were slain,  
The Brave Uxama taken Prisoner,  
And carr'd to Rome, to grace his Triumphs there.  
I went in hopes to find him out at last,  
But with you, on this unknown Shoar am cast.  
Uxama gone, I could not longer stay,  
Shadows pursue the substance every way.  
But like an Amazon did take up Arms,  
Such is the power of Love's forcing Charms.  
Nor was it more than just, that I should be,  
Disguised for him, who was disguised for me.  
He called himself Oranges or our Isle,  
And stamped his Fortune from my frown or smile. She weeps.  Lady. 
I pity your hard fate, nor is mine less,  
Though not in Tears, I'm Rival in distress.  
Grief's like a River which does silent creep,  
And makes but little Noise if it be deep.  
Spare fruitless Tears, in vain you do deplore,  
What once being lost, you never can find more.  Selania. 
Who from so small a Tribute, can refrain,  
As Tears, although the tribute be in vain?  
We weep dead friends, although each Tear that's shed,  
Prove but a needless payment to the dead.  
Merchant's may mourn their Loss, though tears they spill,  
Do with more water drown the Treasure still.  
My dear Uxama who conceal'dst thy Name,  
And called'st thyself Or anges.— She weeps.  Lady. 
— You're too blame.  
To yield to passion, and give way to tears,  
Cast away sorrow and subdue your fears.  
I'd fain divert you from your grief; I'll sing  
And see if music may diversion bring.  Selan. 
Madam,  
I wish whilst for my grief you seek a Cure.  
You may a Balsam for your own procure.  Exit as into the Grove. Music and Voices. 

THE SONG.  
THou God of Love, whose Quivers hold  
Shafts of Heat, and shafts of Cold.  
When hot we do Love's flame endure,  
When cold they do disdain procure.  
Whose points are sharp and strong enough,  
To pierce through Mail or coats of Buff.  
Which can from hearts of flint strike fire,  
To catch the tinder of Desire.  
Then dive the Seas, and there create,  
In Neptune flame, in Fish's heat.  
Then mount the Skies, and with new fire,  
Snatched from the Spheres the Gods inspire.  
That Jove himself becomes the prize,  
Being shot with darts from Danae's Eyes.  
Such power has the God of Love,  
He Empires greater rules than Jove.  
Though the cold Zone should gird with Art,  
Or ribs of Ice immure a heart,  
Yet ribs of Ice would thaw with Love,  
And the cold Zone would torrid prove.   Enter the Lady, and with her another Lady in the habit of a Shepherdess. Lady. 
Madam. I've met with a kind Shepherdess,  
Who vows she will take part in our distress.  Selan. 
Kind Maid I would not have thee change thy state,  
And for our sakes become unfortunate,  Shepherdess. 
Madam,  
Please you to give me leave, I will attend  
Your fate, till happiness does crown the end.  Selania and the other Lady whisper. 
I find they know me not; and this disguise  
Does hid distressed Astragia from their eyes.  
I need not ask for to attend their fate,  
When as mine own makes me unfortunate.  
Though we were shipwrackt all, yet now I find,  
The gods in this our meeting do prove kind.  
My Sister's Loved by one, whom I do Love,  
I will her Faith, and his Affection prove,  
I'll try if she Love him; and then I'll know,  
Whether he Loves Astragia, or No.  Enter Uxama disguised, like a Shepherd, with a Hook in his hand. Uxama. 
What are you? are you Stars fell from the Skies?  
Or Apparitions which deinde mine eyes?  
Speak if like me, you be of humane Race.  
What make you all thus early at this place?  Lady. 
Coming along last night, we lost our way,  
And waited here the conduct of the day.  Uxama. 
Please you sweer Ladies to accept of mine?  
Where lies the place, for which you do design?  Selan. 
In Italy. I fear weare far from thence.  Uxama. 
Th'Imperial City's not far distant hence.  Selania seems transported. Selan. 
Thanks you tempestuous Seas. How things succeed  
When shipwrecks are so fortunate decreed. Aside.  
Chance hath preferred my wishes, and I'm come,  
Where I shall see Oranges now at Bonee.  Uxama. 
What's that! Oranges! do you know that name?  Selan. 
That name adds a new fuel to my flame. Aside.  Uxama. 
A Prisoner called Oranges as 'tis said,  
Must put the Garland on great Pompey's head,  
But then must die. For Pompey thinks it good,  
Two of the Ensigns should be steeped in's blood.  Selania swoons, the others help her. 
Then hung in Janus' Temple, for to be  
The bloody Trophies of his Victory.  Lady. 
Help, Help, the Lady Swoons.—  Exit Shepherdess. Uxama helps Enter a Soldier. Sould. 
— Hold Ravisher.  Vxama. 
It is this Lady not thy sword I fear.  Sould. 
What didst thou think of two to make a Rape,  
And that just Heaven would wink at thy escape?  
Thou payest thy life for injured innocence.  Vxama. 
Lend here thy help, o prithee get thee hence.  Sould. 
Defend thyself, or else submit to death.  Vxama. 
Poor Criminals tamely may resign their breath;  
The justice of my cause does bid me stand  
In opposition to the Hector's hand. They fight.  Enter the Shepherdess. Shepherdess. 
Hold Hold,—  
Can pity be a crime? he brought relief,  
Unto a Lady almost dead with grief.  They fight on, The Shepherdess takes an Arrow out of the Lady's Quiver, and throws at the Soldier, at which Uxama runs in and disarms him. The Shepherdess receives a small wound. Lady. 
The wound's not deep I hope.—  Vxama. 
— Now thy own Blade  
Sends thy black Soul to the infernal Shade.  
But 'twere a crime, if hasty passion should  
Before her blood's wiped off, let out thy blood. He wipes the sword.  
Will you inflict his death or else shall I? The Soldier claps behind the Lady.  Sould. 
You shall this armour pierce before I die.  Lady 
Hold, Hold. Let him not die at all for us. Vxama passeth at him.  Sould. 
Thanks to my Armour which defends me thus.  Vxama. 
Will you save him who sought to ruin us?  Selania. 
Hold Hold. Give him his sword— passeth at him.  Vxama. 
— Here Soldier take  
Your Sword, thank them, and blame your rash mistake.  Gives him his Sword, he lets go the Lady, and speaks to the Shepherdess. Sould. 
I humbly thank your mercy, but I crave  
You'd take away that Life, which you now save.  
For since I spilt your blood, you justly may,  
Let out all mine, and then those drops repay. He proffers his sword.  Shepherdess. 
Mercy prevails with me, it is not good  
That drops should be repaid with streams of blood.  Sould. 
Have I when Pompey yerst did Spain invade,  
Cut through the Spanish Squadrons with my Blade?  
Have I of times through bloody dangers run,  
Outfaced grim-War, and valiant actions done?  
Contemning death, I always did engage,  
Where war, and slaughter seemed most to rage.  
Knowing that conquest yields but little honour,  
If bloody dangers do not wait upon her.  
Well.  
It never shall be said I lost the Day,  
And conquered by a Shepherd went away.  
For here I vow, I'll not my shame outlive,  
But do refuse that life, which you would give.  He goes to fall on his Sword, Uxama with his book, strikes the sword from under him, the Soldier takes the Dart, strikes himself, and falls. 
What weapon was more fit than this? since I  
Gave you a wound with mine, by yours I die.  A Parchment and Keys fall from him Which are taken up by Uxama. Selan. 
What generous spirits these brave Romans have,  
Their lives once blurred with shame, they will not save.  
Who like these gallant Romans, thus dare die,  
May brave their Fate, and fortune may defy.  Uxama opens the Parchment and reads. 
These are to satisfy all, whom it may concern, that M. Rivulus hath leave to be absent from the Army for the space of a Month, during which time he is appointed by the order of Pompey the Great, to oversee and take into his Custody the Spanish Prisoners; and moreover he shall order every Prisoner to bear a Branch of Laurel, upon the day of the celebration of Pompey 's Triumphs, in all subjection before the Conqueror.  
M. Afranius.  
Those are belike the Keys o'th' Prison Gate.  Selan. 
Now my distress may make me fortunate. Aside.  Uxama. 
M. Afranius!  
Afranius, one of Pompey's Generals, who  
In the late Spanish war did bravely do.  
Who still with Varro and Petreius stays,  
And bloody Ensigns now in Spain displays.  
Ah my poor Country, by a fatal stroke,  
Brought in subjection to the Roman Yoke.  
If 'twere within my power to regain  
My country's Pristin freedom: then O Spain  
My life I would most willingly forego,  
That from my death, thou mightst Victorious grow.  Selan. 
Grant O kind Heaven this Shepherd prove my friend,  
For by his help I may attain my End.  
The Soldier's habit, and that Parchment may,  
Unto my Dear Vxama make the way. Aside.  
Those Keys if they unlock the Prison Gate,  
May set him free, and may prevent his fate,  
And then Selania will be fortunate.  
I'll try him.—  
Kind Swain, I'd beg a favour at your hand.  Uxama. 
Madam. You need not beg, but may command.  Selan. 
If to your Country you such kindness own,  
Now free the Spaniards, and that kindness show.  Uxama. 
My love to Spain, with honour must agree.  
Honour says No. Though love would set them free.  
The chance of War hath made them so.  Selan. 
— What then  
Chance gives you means to set them free again.  Vxama. 
Ah Madam! Should I say that I do lie  
Bound with your Hair, and fettered by your Eye;  
Or should I tell you that I do become,  
A greater Prisoner here than they at Rome.  
Would you vouchsafe to set me free? Alone  
From you, I must my freedom have or none.  
Just so it fares with them. They Prisoners be,  
Till he who made them so, does set them free.  Selan. 
Those chains you talked of first, with greatest ease,  
May be put on and off, as Prisoners please,  
Witchcraft hath Spells like these; what one does chain,  
A nobler Beauty can release again.  
But now your power's absolute alone  
From you they must have freedom, or from none.  Uxama. 
Madam!  
I bring my Life in question, but for you,  
I'll venture both my life and fortune too.  
Would you have all released or only one?  Selan. 
I'm most inclined for him, whom yerst you said,  
Must put the Garland on great Pompey's head,  
But then must die. I only wish him free,  
Though Death's more welcome, than Captivity.  
Propose your own reward.—  Uxama. 
— If that I may,  
Your smiles I'll only covet for my pay.  Uxama and Selania whisper. She gives him a Letter. Lady. 
This Shepherd sure is sprung from noble Race,  
What sweet behaviour, does his person grace!  Shepherdess. 
No matter how descended from his Birth,  
The purest gold itself was once but earth.  
They wear the badge of honour, who are known,  
Not by their Father's actions, but their own.  Selan. 
Mistake in them, will the design prefer,  
And your admittance get to th'Prisoner.  
That done, you by those Keys may set him free.  Uxam. 
I'll be the author of his liberty.  
I find his Fate her pity much doth move,  
I call it pity, but I know 'tis love. Aside. Exit.  Selan. 
Assist the Act you gods, who always prize  
Mercy before the bleeding Sacrifice.  
Spare but Orange's Hecatombs I'll slay,  
And heaps of Incense on your Altars lay.  
But if such meaner Offerings you despise,  
Spare him, and let me be the Sacrifice. Exeunt omnes.  Uxama returns and speaks. Solus. Uxama. 
Since my Selania's death, I ne'er could find  
So rare a beauty, such a matchless mind.  
But in this Lady, both have took such place,  
Her virtuous mind seems Rival to her face.  
In all so like Selania, I must own,  
Souls surely have a Transmigration.  
Pardon Selania, if I love in her,  
Those virtues which in thee I did prefer.  
Did not the Adriatic Sea entomb  
Thy Beauty, where the sportive Fish do come,  
Not to devour, but unto Kisses bend.  
And from thy Lips receive their nourishment.  
I should have thought thee here, but 'tis I find  
Thy Picture, may it like thyself prove kind.  
Had not a generous Youth observed the waves.  
How eagerly they oped their liquid graves,  
As if ambitiously the waves were bend,  
Each strived to be thy weeping Monument.  
Had not he seen thee drowned, who must thank  
Kind Heaven for his safety on a Plank,  
I should have vowed thee living; but I find  
thou'rt gone; but yet in her thou'rt left behind.  
But why think I of Love? when I must be  
The Author, of her Lover's Liberty.  
These Keys must set him free, or else he dies.  
Suppose I suffer it, it may suffice,  
If I pretend I came too late, or say,  
Strong Guards of Soldiers, at the Gates did slay.  
But can I thus resolve, and think I love?  
When I not faithful, but perfidious prove.  
Or think that love, can like the Phoenix rise,  
From out her Lover's Ashes, when he dies!  
Ah love all thy suggestions are in vain,  
What love commands, my honour does restrain.  
I'll go and set him free, although I be,  
The Author of mine own Captivity. Exit.  The Scene is Rome. Enter two Senators in Gowns. 1 Sen. 
Sure of this City there can come no good,  
Whose new built walls were bathed with humane blood.  
Inhuman Founder, must thy Brother die?  
Thou from a Wolf didst suck the Cruelty.  2 Sen. 
I fear those Twins nursed by a Wolf portend,  
Some homeborn Wolf will spoil her in the end.  1 Sen. 
Caesar they say and Crassus did combine,  
And Pompey too in a most high design,  
To share the Roman Greatness, but the death  
Of Crassus and of Julia give her breath.  
She, being Caesar's Daughter, He, his friend,  
Do by their deaths, give the design an end.  
Whilst Julia lived she did debar all strife  
Betwixt them two, one's Daughter, tother's Wife.  
Those Twins of Fame, than which the World affords,  
None more ambitious, none more potent Lords.  2 Sen. 
Caesar and Pompey both do strive I know,  
Like neighbouring Cedars which shall highest grow;  
Whose lofty tops, when shaken with the Wind,  
Fall foul upon each other; thus you'll find  
Whilst for vain glory equally they strive,  
The one the other's Ruin will contrive.  
But Heavens prevent; the props once took away,  
The Building soon does run into decay. Exeunt.  The Scene continueth. Enter the Shepherdess in man's Apparel. Shep. 
I've tried my Sister's Lover, and I find,  
That he affects her with a constant mind.  
And now in this Disguise, I mean to try,  
Her love to him, and prove her Constancy.  
And if I find she do inconstant prove,  
Her falsehood I will expiate by my love.  
I then will tell him that I love; and he,  
What he once sought in her, shall find in me.  
Astragia Loves, but will suppress her flame,  
Unless my Sister first resign her Claim.  
Selania and my Sister saved, I find,  
The gods seemed cruel, to appear more kind.  
No sooner I arrived, but lo I found  
An armed man, lie sleeping on the ground.  
I humbly kissed the Shoar, and Heavens did thank,  
For my protection, on a floating Plank.  
The Soldier waked, and sighing oft did say.  
Have you not heard of one Selania?  
I said in short, I saw her cast away.  
He tore his hair, with passion so possessed,  
The Sea seemed calm, to th' Tempest in his breast.  
Sure it was raised from Love. When Windmills go,  
'Tis only Wind that can transport them so.  
Would I could meet him that I might excuse  
The rash report, and tell him better news.  
Selania lives.—  
— On Planks we safely find,  
When gods are Pilots, and their breath the wind.  
Finis Actus Secundi.   

ACTUS III. SCENA PRIMA.  The Scene is Italy. Caesar, Valerius, Curio, Soldiers. Caesar and Valerius in private Conference. Caesar. 
VAlerius No. I firmly have designed,  
If favours will not, by constraint to bind.  
Curio with these shall to the Senate go,  Curio Bows. 
And give 'em notice what I mean to do.  Letters. 
When they do understand my full intent,  
Perhaps they'll them cease to be insolent.  
But if they should accept what I propose,  
You need not my intentions then disclose.  
In vain we do besiege the yielding Town.  
Who by a smile can conquer, needs not frown.  Caesar in private conference with Curio. Valer. 
I fear whilst Caesar does so high aspire,  
That his ambition will set Rome on fire.  
I know the Senate with unleveled eyes,  
Look on his greatness, through a false disguise;  
Pretending Love, when they intent to do,  
All that their hate and pride can prompt them to.  
Caesar Rome's Empire hath o'er Kingdoms spread,  
Who where he came or looked, still conquered.  
Hence springs their hate; shall Stars that shine less bright.  
Envy the Sun, whence they derive their Light?  
I wish his Letters may acceptance find,  
Or else she'll know, too soon what he'has designed.  
When he infests her, with intestine Wars,  
And Like a Viper, through Her bowels tears.  Caesar giveth Curio the Letters trimmed with Laurel. And speaks. Caesar. 
I'll have it so.—  Curio. 
— Can Civil War procure?  Caesar. 
War may make Rome less proud, me more secure.  Curio. 
We ill secure ourselves by shedding blood.  Caesar. 
We may less evils act, for greater good.  Curio. 
Yet Sir remember by this fatal strife  
You ruin her, who first did give you life.  
Rome, Who o'er Mighty Kingdoms does command.  Caesar. 
The greater part, were conquered by this hand.  
But as, when on Foundations we do lay  
Too great a weight, the building does decay:  
So Rome's own greatness for her ruin calls,  
Who under insupported Glory falls.  
Thus Sisyphus his stone, when with much pain  
Rolled up the Hill, soon tumbles down again.  
Nature a term of greatness does assign,  
Which once being past, things more and more decline.  Curio. 
Nations subdued whilst we at home do fight,  
By safe incursions may regain their right.  
As when two Lion's quarrel for the prey,  
In comes a Wolf, and carries it away.  
Sir, be advised, let it be never said  
That Rome was ruined, by the Man She bred.  
The glorious Sun, whose Rays salute the Earth,  
Until her teeming womb gives all things birth.  
Does not consume her, though she often lies,  
And does Eclipse his Glory from our eyes.  
Sir, 'Tis enough that all the world does know,  
That Rome her greatness to your hand should owe.  Caesar. 
Heavens! should own! Your spirits faint I find,  
What! thoughts of Civil War do scare your mind.  
Should owe! does she not then? if she deny,  
My Sword shall give her saucy tongue the lie.  
You did advise me to go armed: 'tis strange  
Your Council in so short a time should change.  Curio. 
Your pardon Sir, 'twas my advice 'tis true.  
But now you may a better course pursue.  
Councils like Seamen as they cause do find,  
Must tack about according to the wind.  
First Sir, for Cato and Marcellus send,  
A seeming friendship may make each your friend.  
Perhaps to your proposals they'll consent,  
Oblige the Senate, and the War prevent.  
Not that I fear a War, but shall obey,  
And follow dangers, when you lead the way  
But yet 'tis madness, if we choose to run  
Into a storm, whose fury we may shun.  Caesar. 
They'll not their safety forfeit at that rate,  
To trust themselves with me, whom they do hate.  
My Letter speaks 'em fair, if that won't do,  
I shall expect the rest be told by you.  Curio. 
— Sir, I obey your Will.  Caesar. 
— 'Tis fit,  
Since Pompey's Army, that they mine admit.  
Else I may justly think they do design,  
To side with Pompey, and my Cause decline.  
Has he done more for Rome than I have done?  
Who have proud Nations to her Empire won,  
Th' outrageous Gauls, who with their numerous swarms,  
Made Macedonians tremble at their Arms;  
Who wasting Asia, and disposing things,  
Did insolently make and unmake Kings  
This hand did Conquer; There I gave decrees,  
Then wounded Neptune's bosom with winged Trees.  
The Gauls no more presuming of their might,  
I did the World divided Britain's fight.  
The Germans from their Youth inur'd to War,  
Whilst neither Hills nor Seas my Course could bar;  
Whose Martial minds still haughty thoughts have bred,  
Yerst saw the Rhine, with their own blood run red.  
Nations where e'er I went, did trembling stand,  
Who with my Sword, carred Conquest in my hand.  
Nor did they ever think themselves secured,  
Though moted in with Seas, or Hills immured.  
Those Eagles for their prey, have Kingdoms won,  
And conquered both the Mansions of the Sun,  
Nothing could ever yet control their force,  
Nor Alps, nor Pyren Hills could stop their Course,  
Whose wings with Conquest imped, spread uncontrolled,  
Disdaining Southern heat, and Northern cold.  
The Acts that I have done, my glories raise,  
My Deeds in number do exceed my Days.  Curio. 
You by your Conquests have enlarged Rome's Bounds;  
By which they think your Power too much abounds.  Caesar. 
Who dare to lodge such thoughts within their minds?  Curio. 
They whom your bright Meridian glory blinds.  Caesar. 
They who do think my glories to suppress,  
As well may think to make the Sun shine less.  
Thou thinkest in vain proud Rome my highborn Soul,  
Will Cringe so low, as to let thee control.  
No, Rome thou dost mistake; though Jove should shroud,  
Or case thee in the bowels of a Cloud,  
Yet Giantlike, I'd heap up Hills so high,  
If he'd not yield thee up, I'd scale his Sky.  
Should he transport thee past remotest Seas,  
Or carry thee to the Antipodes,  
I'd pass those Seas, or shoot some Gulf and go,  
To scourge thy Damned ingratitude below.  
I would pursue thee every way, where force,  
Can not arrive, I'd damn thee with my Curse.  Caesar walks in a Passion. Valerius and Curio whisper. Caesar comes and speaks. Caesar. 
Valerius!  
What do you think is fittest to be done?  Valer. 
The way that's safest Sir 'tis best to run.  Caesar. 
My safety does depend upon your Swords.  Valer. 
Love greater safety than our swords affords.  Caesar. 
Nought to a Prince can more inconstant prove,  
Then strength that's builded on the people's love.  
Unhappy Monarch, whose ill founded State,  
Stands on his Subject's Love, or on their hate.  
He holds at Will the Sceptre, and must be,  
A Tenant to his Crown by Courtesy.  
His spirit's mean, Who dares not to control,  
Is made a Subject by his dastard Soul.  Valer. 
Love's a foundation that will ne'er decay.  Caesar. 
Yet oft in Ruin doth the builder lay.  
The People's love may like the Sea awhile,  
Whilst Calms salute her surface, seem to smile,  
But by the Winds saluted, by and by,  
The rough embrace, makes her invade the Sky.  
Whose foaming Billows post unto the Shore,  
And flit for fury, that they can't do more.  
Thus in affection do the Vulgar prove.  
Inconstant. There's the Weathercock of Love.  
Lend me brave Soldiers, but your Swords, and where  
Rome does deny to Love, I'll make her fear.  Val. & Curio. 
Our Swords and Lives are yours great Sir.—  Sould. 
Vivat Caesar.— Vivat Caesar.—  Caesar. 
Jove would not firmly in his Heaven stand,  
But that he holds the Thunder in his hand,  
That Idol, Greatness, which most men adore,  
Is gotten with great pains, and kept with more.  
It never can be truly kept secure,  
But by those means, which did it first procure.  
But I waste time.— Curio make haste to Rome,  
And tell the Senate that from Me you come.  
Give 'em My Letters, if they do command,  
That Pompey all his Army shall disband,  
I to the same conditions than will stand,  
And Mine dismiss, if not, I think it Just,  
Since they to His, I to my Army trust.  
And then, what they refuse, I'll force, and Might  
Shall be the Arbitrator of my Right.  
And when by Pompey's Army, I'm withstood,  
I'll march to Rome, through reeking fields of blood.  
Thus what a Torrent's force impeaches, more,  
Swells th' uncontrolled streams, and makes them roar.  
When Pyramids do burn, whose tops aspire,  
Engines are useless, and can't reach the fire.  Excunt, Caesar, Valerius, and Soldiers at one door. Curio at the other. The Scene lies in Italy. Enter Astragia habited as before leading her sister. Ast. 
I cannot in my Language periods find,  
For to express the Virtues of your Mind.  
Rhet'rick's too scant; all Metaphors in one,  
Speaking of You, are diminution.  
Hyperboles no figure, and in this  
Auxesis too is but a Miosis.  
My tongue mine Admiration can't impart,  
Accept mine eyes, as Agents for my heart.  
Madam 'tis just you should accept the same,  
Since from your eyes mine admiration came.  Lady. 
I can't with dumb Ambassadors confer,  
Fond Youth thine eyes want an Interpreter.  Ast. 
Madam the Language may be understood,  
As easy, as a dumb Man's Signs for food.  
And as to him you'd charitable prove,  
So let me now experience your love.  Lady. 
Canst thou love one, thou never saw'st till now?  Ast. 
Like motion, Love does in an instant grow.  
I cannot doubt your virtues since I know,  
Distress and virtue, both together go.  Lady. 
I am distressed upon the score of Love.  Ast. 
Upon that score, I would distressed prove.  
But Madam can distress from Love arise,  
When as all blessings Centre in your eyes?  
Your Lover's absence can you count distress,  
When you may tread new ways to happiness?  Lady. 
Who do new Lovers before old prefer,  
Walking new paths of Love may chance to err.  
And whilst they quit the Course, they steered before,  
May leave the Indies, for a Barren Shore.  Ast. 
Pursuing Love you cannot go astray,  
When virtue guides your beauty in the way.  
Who'd go to th' Indies, if at home they could  
Find Pearls of equal price, and mines of Gold?  
So that Love's progress now may ended be,  
If what you sought in him, you find in me.  Lady. 
Much more sweet youth, unto thy virtue's due.  
I blush to tell thee, that I Love thee too.  Ast. 
But may I hope that you Love me alone?  
For Love resents a Rival in his Throne.  Lady. 
Ah! Generous Youth, thou art the only guest,  
That I admit to lodge within my Breast.  Ast. 
Say, Madam, have you ever Loved before?  Lady. 
Not on my own, but on my Sister's score.  
Distressed Astragia, where so  thou art,  
Thy Sister means to give away thy heart.  
I know thou Lov'st the man, who once Loved me,  
But in thy Love, he may more happy be.  
I therefore do resign all claim; that she  
In him, may happy prove; and I in thee.  Astragia weeps. 
But why these tears sweet Boy? You must not cry,  
Unless you mean to drown me in your eye.  Ast. 
How can I choose but weep, to think I should,  
Deceive a Sister, which does prove so good.  
Ah Madam I have cause to weep, you'll say,  
When you do know I am Astragia.  Pulls off her Peruke. Lady. 
Propitious Gods with blessings don't destroy,  
We wept for sorrow once, but now for Joy.  
How quickly my affection thou hadst won,  
Thy virtue's strong, that could subdue so soon.  
What greater blessing could there be, than this?  
She, who my Lover was, My Sister is.  Ast. 
Whilst others leave self interest to control,  
Honour the Bias was, that lead thy Soul.  
For what could cause thee to resign thy claim?  Lady. 
Because I knew, yours was the nobler flame.  
Your Love exceeded mine: 'twas therefore fit,  
That to the strong, the weaker should submit.  Ast. 
Can you all this for poor Astragia do?  Lady. 
Dear Sister can I do too much for you?  
Not doing this, I should unworthy prove,  
'Tis fit that honour should give Laws to Love.  Exeunt. The Scene is Rome. Enter the two former Senators. 1 Sen. 
The time yields nothing but distracting care,  
And gives a prospect only to despair.  
Since Julia's death, Pompey aspires so high,  
Admits no Rival, nor Equality  
And Caesar is so great a Conqueror,  
He'll ne'er admit of a Superior.  
And this I fear will cause Domestic Jars.  2 Sen. 
Their Armies are engaged in foreign Wars.  
Part of great Pompey's Army does remain,  
Under the Valiant Afranius in Spain.  
Caesar's in Gallia, sure they'll never come,  
And thence remove the Wars, to bring 'em home.  1 Sen. 
Pray Heavens Amen. I wish they never may,  
I would not live to see that fatal Day.  
But shall I fear? Who with Ambition thirst,  
Imbibe the poison, till at last they burst.  
And with their ruin draw on thousands more,  
And make it universal, on that score.  Enter to them Uxama. A Boy bearing Laurels after him, and Garlands. 
Is this a Time for Triumphs? when we may  
Rather expect this Empire should decay.  
Ah Rome, Thy greatness, does draw on thy Fate,  
What Atlas can support thy tottering State?  2 Sen. 
How goes Report?—  Uxama. 
— Grave Senators! I hear  
News, which with terror, will invade your ear.  
Curio's Just now arrived, 'tis Thought that he,  
From Caesar brings some dreadful Embassy.  
Whilst Caesar with his Army as they say,  
A day's march distant from the Town does stay,  
Expecting his return from Rome; I fear,  
He'll turn your Triumphs to a bloody War.  1 Sen. 
Wise Cato told the Senate as a friend,  
To what all Caesar's deeds would turn i'th' end.  
If that his Pride were not controlled in time,  
Made great by Conquests, He too high would climb.  
But Pride's best Curbed, still by as proud a one,  
A Diamond must cut a Diamond, or none.  
Therefore I think we wisely did admit  
Great Pompey's Army.—  2 Sen. 
Ne'er think that Caesar will to force submit.  
He has an Army, and may come secure,  
And force by foul, what fair means won't procure.  
And when his force, by Pompey's is withstood,  
Our Eagles then will pray on Roman blood.  
Lo, when two Clouds of Fire and Water meet,  
They kiss in Lightning, and in Thunder greet.  Exeunt Senators Uxama stays. Vxama. 
What are these troubles in the State? When I  
Reflect on those, which in my Bosom lie?  
No Civil War, like that within my Breast,  
Where love and honour equally contest.  
Honour comes armed with Glory in her hand,  
And thus methinks she speaks: Vxama stand.  
What must Love's passions thus distract thy mind?  
And must my Mansion, be to Love resigned?  
Can Love preserve thy Name? 'tis I that must,  
Like to the Phoenix spring from out thy dust.  
Love with thy body dies, but I control,  
And keep thy name immortal like thy Soul,  
But now comes love, and thus methinks does say,  
Dost thou refuse bold Rebel to obey?  
Who take my Weapons from her eyes, and own  
The Twist unto her hair which strings my Bow.  Enter Selania undiscovered. 
Eagles which build aloft, shall teach their Young,  
To try their Eyes at hers, and not the Sun.  
June still resides upon her Cheeks, and owes  
Unto her Breath, the perfumes of each Rose.  He discovers her. 
I must confess, I'm conuered by surprise,  
Love does pursue too fast, when honour flies.  Selan. 
Have you released the Prisoner?—  Uxam. 
— Madam, he  
Has Liberty; but you have fettered me.  Aside. Selan. 
Did you appoint him, for to meet me here?  Vxam. 
I thought the place not safe, the Prison's near.  
But in a Pilgrim's habit sent him,—  Selan. 
— Whither?  Uxam. 
Unto you Plains.—  Selan. 
— Will you conduct me thither?  Vxam. 
Madam I wait upon you.—  Selan. 
— Since you prove  
Thus generous, Let that express my Love.  Gives him a Purse. Uxama. 
I prise your favours, but refuse the gold,  
The service done for you should not be sold.  
The name of servant when't relates to you,  
Both pays the service, and giveth honour too.  Exeunt. The Scene is some Italian Plain. Enter Astragia and her Sister. A Pilgrim is discovered asleep. Lady. 
Ha.  
A weary Pilgrim sleeping on the ground,  
Thy quiet breast is with contentment crowned.  
These fresh and fragrant Plains, thy Eyelids close,  
With a secure, and undisturbed repose.  
Here wand'ring Streams do in soft murmurs fly,  
And Court sweet sleep, to lodge within thine eye.  Ast. 
Let's wake him.—  Lady. 
— Pilgrim awake, arise. Stamps with her foot.  
Chase away drowsy slumber from thine eyes.  Enter Selania and Uxama. The Pilgrim rises. Selan. 
Did you most holy Sir, a stranger see?  Uxama. 
If that you mean the Prisoner, this is Herald  Selan. 
You have mistake.—  Orang. 
— There's no mistake in it.  
Oranges never was in fetters yet.  
Unless you count the man in fetters lies,  
Whom you have captived by your powerful eyes.  
Madam he lives, is free, and kept secure,  
By a Disguise, I did for him procure.  Selan. 
Be blest good man for ever, since that breath  
Calls back my soul, both from despair and death.  
And does Oranges live, you Powers divine,  
Your Altars daily shall with Incense shine.  Vxam. 
What Labyrinth is this? things seem to me  
Riddles in love, and all a Mystery.  Orang. 
I hear his Voice.—  Selan, 
— You fancy that you hear,  
I wish his happy Voice would bless my ear.  Orang. 
But for a little time subdue your fears,  
His sight shall bless your eyes, his voice your ears.  
Provide to meet him, at you Laurel Grove.  Selan. 
I shall not fail appointments made by love.  Orang. 
Thither I'll bring him to you.—  Selan. 
— May'st thou be  
Ever as happy, as thou'lt then make me. Exeunt.  Uxam. 
Poor Semel, I now must try thy Fate,  
And burn in flames which I would shun too late.  
I by this Goddess ruined, thou by Jove,  
The one by Lightning, and the other by Love. Exit.  
Finis Actus Tertii.   

ACTUS IV. SCENA PRIMA.  The Scene is the Capitol. Music Plays a soft Strain. Enter Lictor's bearing bundles of Rods and Axes, before the two Consuls, who hold a Garland of Laurel betwixt them, after whom, Pompey bareheaded, in a Triumphant Gown, Next Senators. They ascend the Degrees, Six Spanish Prisoners, each bearing a bough of Laurel, and a Garland of Grass, ushered in by two bearing Ensigns, Crying out, Subacta Hispania twice. All placed, the Consuls rise and put the Garland on Pompey 's head. Cons. 
TRiumphant Laurels we place on thy head,  
Who to our Empire Spain hast conquered.  
Music Plays as before.  
Two prisoner's come out, and Cry Io Triumph, twice.  
They lay down their Garlands and speak.  Both. 
Garlands of Grass We offer for to show,  
That Land was conquered, where this Grass did grow.  
Music Plays as before.  
Two more Cry Io Triumph, twice, and do as the former.  Both. 
These mighty Sir, we at your feet do lay,  
And all Subjection, to our Conqueror pay.  
The Last come out and do as before. Crying out Io Triumph, twice:  Both. 
Vouchsafe dread Conqueror to cast down your eye,  
Upon these Emblems of your Victory.  
They take their places.  
The Music Plays aloud.  The Prisoners run into the Measure of a Dance. After a while, are interrupted by Fame, who comes winged, with a Trump in her hand, and thus speaks to them, then to Pompey. Fame. 
No more.— No more.—  
I am resolved, that I myself will sing  
Great Pompey's Triumphs, and upon my Wing,  
Upon these golden Plumes, thy Fame shall Fly  
Unto both Poles, those limits of the Sky.  
I Goddess Fame, will with thy Trumpet sound,  
Each Accent of thy Name, where World is found.  
I'll rescue thee from Time.—  Time winged, bald, etc. interrupts Fame. Time. 
Fame Thou mistak'st, thou dost not know my Power,  
I Marble Monuments, and Brass devour.  
I see proud Cities often as I fly,  
Founded so strong, they might my power defy.  
But when perhaps, I next take wing that way,  
Those Cities then, are run into decay.  
The aged Nestor when compared with me,  
The Infant Boy died in Minority.  
The Thread of Life by Lachesis is spun;  
And all things die, their fatal Glass once run.  
I to decay, the strongest things do fend,  
Eagles and Ravens have one common End.  
The long lived Stagg, and Oak, do both at last,  
Reach to those Points of Time, which ne'er are past.  
Though strength and years should in one thing combine,  
Yet time will come, when they must both resign.  
Now Fame; What think you, do you think I've Power,  
And that in time, I can his Name devour.  Fame pauseth and speaks. Fame. 
No, for the gods that power to me give,  
That though men die, by me their names may live.  
What's mortal in that man, I leave to thee,  
But what's immortal, I do take to me. Exit Fame.  Envy appears seeming to have Snakes For her Tresses, interrupts Time. Time. 
From me and Envy.—  Envy. 
Speak for yourself bald pated fool, I will  
Let's Arm cast up Hills unto the Sky,  
To be the Trophies of his Victory,  
Let him build Pyramids, or Temples raise,  
Or carve his Acts in Mausolean Brass.  
I'll scratch those Hills to Dust, that Winds again  
May blow'um, till they're levelled with the Plain.  
Those Pyramids and Temples I'll Erase,  
My Aqua fortis Teeth shall eat the Brass.  Time. 
Envy be gone, the gods thy Power restrain,  
Mad dogs may rage's, which cannot break their chain. Exit Envy.  
From Both of Us, thou hast redeemed thy Name, To Pompey.  
And by thy Actions got immortal Fame.  
If such thy Morning glory be, what when,  
Thou shalt arrive at thy Meridian? Exit Time.  All come down upon the Stage. Enter Curio with Letters in his hand trimmed with Laurel, and a Dart at his Girdle. Curio. 
I do in order Sir to my command, Gives a Letter to a Consul.  
These letters humbly offer to your hand.  
This Letter is to You.— Gives it to a Senator.  Sen. 
— To Me, from whom?  Curio. 
This Sir, and that do both from Caesar come.  Consul. 
Curio your Master does too high aspire,  
He thinks to force us sure, to his desire.  
But he mistakes, first tell him, that he must  
Disband his Army, and the Senate trust.  
Who would be Consul, must not take the course,  
Of an ambitious man in Power, Force.  
He must lay down his Arms.—  Curio. 
— He thinks it fit,  
Since Pompey's Army, that you his admit.  
Else he may justly think, you do design,  
To side with Pompey, and his Cause decline.  2 Consul. 
Curio not so, for though we were most strong,  
We would not use our Power to do Wrong.  
We keep his Army to defend our Right,  
And to protect us from injurious Might.  Curio. 
I wish you Pompey's Army would disband.  Pompey. 
That wish is high Presumption Sir in you,  
Will you advise the Consuls what to do.  
Wish that your Master would his Troops disband,  
By mine it is that we secure do stand.  
Which if the Consuls should disband, we may  
For aught I know become your Master's prey.  Curio. 
If that this Plea be just, great Sir, than too  
My Master may suspect the same from you.  Pompey. 
'Tis fit, we Caesar's Pride control in time,  
Lest through Ambition he too high should climb.  Curio. 
Great Caesar with yourself, takes it on trust,  
All he attempts to make him great, is Just.  Curio taketh Pompey aside. 
Can you tax him with pride, and think of late,  
How you combined to share the Roman State?  
Who by ambition than was lead? can you,  
Charge him, when you yourself are guilty too?  
And whilst from that design you thus retreat,  
I know you study means to grow more great.  
But don't his Ruin, as the Means, contrive,  
For can his fall, rise to your glory give?  Pompey. 
I'll hear no more.—  
The Consuls have decreed, he ne'er shall come  
In Arms, unless he force his way to Rome.  Curio. 
Since 'tis denied, I promised to declare,  
What Caesar did Command. A Civil Warr. Throws down his Dart.  
Great Caesar is resolved to take this course,  
What you deny him in, he means to force.  
The highest in the Heavens, who know events,  
Know that constrained I come from Caesar's Tents,  
As an unwilling Herald to proclaim,  
A War must be Rome's ruin, and her shame,  
A War which all true Romans must bemoan,  
And when our hands do wound, our hearts must groan.  Exit Curio. 1 Consul. 
The World is but a Tennis-Court, where Fate,  
Tosses the men for Balls, and plays the State.  
Bandied about, they rise and do descend,  
Whose glories hazard oft their fatal end.  
Hath Caesar by his Conquests made Rome great,  
That he at once in her, might's Wars repeat?  
Or that those Kingdoms to her Empire lain,  
In fight her, might be fought o'er again?  
Or did he Nations to this end subdue,  
That all in her, might at one time accrue?  
No. We must stop his Pride, lest we endure,  
What our delay, may put beyond our cure.  
Let's sit in Council, and with speed conclude,  
What course is fittest for to be pursued.  Pompey. 
Since you my Army did admit, I'll do,  
What honour and your safety bind me to.  
His fury I'll withstand, and for Rome's good,  
Like the kind Pelican, I'll spend my blood.  Enter a Messenger hastily, a Perspective in his hand.] Consul. 
What is thy message, that thou seem'st afraid?  Mess. 
I fear great Sir, that we are all betrayed  
I through this glass did distant objects spy,  
When Lo an Army marched in mine eye.  
I stood a while, in which they drew so near,  
That Sir by this, I fear they're almost here.  a Other Messenger hastily. 2 Mes. 
On the Tarpean Hill I stood, which yields  
A fair prospect to the Italian fields,  
Where Caesar's Army marched, and where it came,  
Towns still burst forth with a most dismal flame.  
Horror and Outcries posted through the Sky,  
Resolve to conquer, or resolve to die.  Cons. 
To Arms. To Arms.—  Pompey. 
Command that Crimber with his utmost force,  
Charge the right Wing, with my Italian horse.  
You the left Wing, You in the Rear fall on't,  
With my Thessalian horse, I'll charge the Front.  
If he be beat, Or by our Power be slain,  
Italia by his Death, her peace will gain,  
But if we lose the fortune of this day,  
We next will fight him at Pharsalia.  
Caesar beware, lest whilst thou soar'st too high,  
I pull thy Towering Eagles from the Sky. Exeunt Omnes.  The Scene is the Grove. Enter Vxama. Solus. Uxama. 
This is the fatal Place, to which Both tend,  
She for to meet her Lover; He his end.  
His Glass of life, or mine, is almost run,  
One of us two, sets with this Evening Sun.  
Both can't enjoy; Loves individuum  
Makes it a Blessing, which belongs to one.  
Men ne'er were partners yet to an Estate,  
Let him take all, who does survive his fate.  
The fire of Love like to the common fire,  
The fuel being gone, does straight expire;  
Or like sight, which, Philosophers do say,  
Would cease to be, were objects took away.  
So that his death alone, I find can prove,  
The only means that's left to gain her Love.  
Die then; And teach all Lovers a new Art,  
That Love which wades through blood must reach the heart.  Kisses his Sword. Exit. 
Finis Actus Quarti.   

ACTUS V SCENA PRIMA.  The Scene is the same Grove. Enter Oranges, Music following of him; he having a Paper in his hand, gives it to one of them. Orang. 
THE Song.— Go place yourselves within the Grove.  
This Evening we will dedicate to Love.  
This is the Sign. When I do stamp begin,  
First Play a strain or two, and after Sing. Stamps.  Exeunt as into the Grove. One returns hastily and speaks. Music. 
An armed man lies sleeping on the ground,  
With a drawn Sword.—  Orang. 
— Has he received no wound?  Exit as into the Grove, he returns suddenly. Orang. 
Things are arrived where I would wish, and now  
To Fortune more than to design I owe.  
His sleep suggests a course I will pursue,  
Which he will blame me for, and thank me too.  
Sleep is death's emblem, and it may be said,  
Whilst sleep locks up our senses we are dead.  
This of her Lover I'll report and say,  
That by his side his fatal Weapon lay.  
Perhaps she may despair. I know, distress  
Gives greater relish unto happiness.  
Blessings expected lose much of their rate,  
Unlooked for when they come 've estimate.  
I by this means shall try her faith, and find,  
If death can change the tenure of her mind.  
Forgive me dearest Master, what I do,  
Is but to try her constancy to you.  
I'll tell her as I came I found him lie  
All gored, thus spoke, then wished me close his eye.  Enter Selania and the associate Lady, habited as before like Amazons: They stand undiscovered. 
Most holy Father if you chance to find  
A Virgin beauty, as if heavens combined  
And joined with Nature for to make her fair,  
That with the Queen of Beauty might compare;  
For such she is, tell her that I was slain  
In seeking her, disguised like a Swain,  
Say my expiring Soul did wait a while,  
For had she come, she'd cured me with a smile.  
Tell her, her beauty hath a double skill,  
Her smiles can keep alive, her frowns can kill.  
Say that Oranges dying did bequeath,  
All Legacies of Love in his last breath.  They appear. Selania takes a Dart out of her Quiver. Selan. 
Selania will not long survive thy death.  She is prevented by the other Lady. Lady. 
Hold Madam, hold.—  Selan. 
— Do not so cruel prove,  
To hinder the last act of Constant love.  Lady. 
What you do call an act of love, would seem  
Rather despair in you, then love for him.  Selan. 
Why do you thus prolong my misery,  
And save alive, one who resolves to die?  
You by this cruel kindness seem to strive,  
My Soul being gone, to keep my corpse alive.  
Suffer this Dart to pierce my breast, that by  
My death I may confirm my Constancy,  
For I have vowed, why then is death denied?  
I'd not outlive that day on which he died.  Orang. 
Madam!  
Let not distracted thoughts disturb your Breast,  
Nor that your vow, rule with such interest.  
Orange's Lives, but is not loved by you.  Selan. 
If he were here, he'd tell you 'twere not true.  Orang. 
Can you love one that yet you never knew?  
Orange's vows he knows you not.—  Selania. 
— Can he  
Forget his solemn vows so soon, and me?  
Should this be true, 'twould more distract my mind,  
I'd rather have him dead then prove unkind.  Orang. 
Madam he loves you, but you love not him.  Selan. 
Then were I guilty of the highest sin.  
My breast is kindled with more noble fire,  
Then powder like to burn, and straight expire.  
I love Oranges so, that for his sake,  
This dangerous voyage I did undertake.  
And till I find him out, I'll spend mine Age,  
Either thus Armed, or else in Pilgrimage.  The Lady's whisper. Orang. 
Her love ' arrived at strange perfection,  
Penelope herself is now outdone.  
Since in such constancy she does excel,  
Some Vestal flame must be her Parallel.  Selan. 
You say Oranges lives?—  Orang. 
— Madam 'tis true.  
But vows to die, if not beloved by you.  
I promised he should meet you here, and bring  
His wounded heart to be your Offering.  
Which he now lays at th' Altars of your Eyes,  
Burnt by those beams to be your Sacrifice.  
And though mistaken bounty set me free,  
Reduce me not into captivity.  Pulls off the disguise. Selan. 
Are you then the Oranges that was freed.  Orang. 
Madam to me, that blessing was decreed.  
And if you love me not upon that score,  
You make my bondage worse than 'twas before.  
Fetters till now, did but my body bind,  
But your perfections captivate my mind.  
Why weep you Madam? Let your Chemic love  She weeps. 
Convert those tears to Oil, that they may prove  
Matter for some new flame, which may impart  
A warmth unto my poor despairing heart,  
Which in expectance of your sentence lies,  
Like a tame Lamb prepared for Sacrifice.  Selania. 
You bring an Offering which I must refuse.  Orang. 
If I offend in aught, let love excuse.  
I must confess what's offered at your shrine,  
Should like yourself have something that's divine.  Selan. 
It were unjust, to give another's due,  
Unto a stranger which I never knew.  Orang. 
Although a stranger, yet do not despise,  
The flame that you have kindled by your eyes.  Selan. 
I will with tears endeavour to suppress,  
The flame you talk of, and to make it less.  She weeps. Orang. 
Rivers of tears cannot suppress desire,  
Nor Seas of Water ever quench Love's fire.  
Whilst tears bedew your Cheeks, you do but more  
Enhance your beauty's lustre on that score:  
As Roses sprinkled by the drops of Dew,  
Do smell more fragrant, and more lovely show.  
Fair Maid, too late you do begin to shroud  
Those Twins of light under a watery Cloud.  
And I too late alas! forbear to look  
Upon those Stars, when I am Planet struck.  
Since I am called Oranges, let that name,  
Give me some title, to my Namesakes claim.  Selania. 
If to the Name alone, my Love were due,  
Then I might Justly pay the debt to you.  
But 'tis a debt, I must to merit pay.  Orang. 
Presumption past a pardon 'twere, to say  
Merit might reach you, or deserts might stand,  
And Love your free gift saucily command.  Selan. 
He who I love, may plead deserts to me.  Orag. 
If that in love, there might a merit be,  
Or he who loved might but deserving prove,  
I'd boldly then plead merit, since I love.  Selan. 
My love to honour and to virtue's due.  Orang. 
Though I won't say, I have 'em both, 'tis true,  
Yet I do love them both, in loving you,  Selan. 
Sir, I am preingaged, let that suffice.  Orang. 
The Antidote's too late, to him who dies.  
Too late we take the Taper from the fly,  
When he is burnt so, that he needs must die.  Selan. 
Since I have thus far gone, I'll let you know  
His name, to whom my love and vows I owe.  Orang. 
Orange's is it not?—  Selan. 
— He once did own  
That for his Name to keep himself unknown.  
His Name's Uxama, whom if I forget,  
I quit the Pearl to take the counterfeit.  Orang. 
Vxama said you? sure that generous guest,  
Only deserves to live within your Breast.  
Madam I quit my claim, and do implore  
Only your pardon, who begged love before.  
Durst I presume his Rival, Glow-worm's might  
Rival the Sun, with all his beams of light.  
I knew his love long since, and constancy,  
Turtles no more shall now love's Emblems be.  
And as I know his faith, so now I prove  
Your constancy to him, and equal love.  
This moment puts a period to distress,  
Which once being past does sweeten happiness.  He stamps. The Music Plays within. Enter the Lady Singing Selania admires. 

THE SONG.  
COme Hymen, come, 'tis Thou alone,  
Of these two lovers canst make one.  
Who one in heart already be,  
As when two flames unite we see.   

Thou lazy God make haste away,  
And do not thus consume the day,  
Which is beholding for supplies,  
To the bright Planets of her Eyes.   Astragia advances with a Garland on her head and a Torch in her hand, as Hymen. 
Hymen make haste prepare the Church,  
And do not stay to light thy Torch.  
Make ready the Solemnities,  
And Light thy Taper at her Eyes.  Vxama advances, to whom Orange's bows, and Uxama looks earnestly upon him. 
The Turtles on the Altars mourn,  
Hymen make haste, or I'll be sworn,  
Thou never shalt be thought Divine,  
we'll only Worship at her Shrine.  Uxama to his Servant. Uxama. 
Parmeno! The Lady's whisper.  
How cam'st thou here?—  Parmeno. 
— I came Sir to provide,  
That you might meet your Mistress like a Bride.  Uxama. 
My Mistress, ah! Parmeno she is dead.  Parmeno. 
They by her Ghost my fancy has been lead.  Parmeno goes to take off his upper Garment. 
Sir give me leave to take off your disguise,  
Then see if you are known unto those Eyes.  Vxama. 
What dost thou mean Parmeno?—  Parmeno. 
— Sir I pray  
Let me disclose you to Selenia.  Selania gazes upon him. 
Lady. Selania! Madam! cast your eyes on me,  
Her eyes are fixed with some strange Ecstasy.  Selan. 
Ye Gods, as once ye helped me in distress,  
So now support me under happiness.  
Such throngs of blessings, with Uxama come,  
That in my breast, they hardly can find room.  Vxama. 
The Persians done't with adoration run Kisses her hand.  
Greater than mine, to welcome in the Sun.  
Alas Selania, I have been misled,  
Report came to my ear, that you were dead.  
I had resolved not to survive your Fate,  
But then your sight did new resolves create.  
I strived in vain my passion to subdue,  
And lived, because she seemed to live in you.  
In this respect alone the difference lay,  
I loved but knew not 'twas Selania.  Selan. 
When from Sardinia you returned to Spain,  
Report came to my car, that you were slain.  
I straight embarked for Spain, when I came there,  
All did affirm you were took Prisoner.  
Then in this garb I firmly did decree,  
To die in the attempt, or set you free.  
I was misguided by th' assumed name,  
For the report still of Oranges came.  
It was my love that did suspect your fate,  
Knowing that you, had used that name of late.  Uxama. 
I was too blame. Parmeno why did you,  
Presume to call yourself Oranges too?  Parmeno. 
When I was boar in Fetters Sir from Spain,  
I did despair my freedom to obtain.  
Using Oranges name, the means I knew,  
You then to gain my freedom would pursue.  
Since you by mutual vows had both agreed,  
Either imprisoned, should at last be freed.  
If either Plot, or Ransom, might but be  
A means, whereby, the Captive might be free.  
But then.—  A noise of Arms within. Selan. 
— A noise of Arms invades mine ear,  Uxama. 
Your Virtue's guard you, and you need not fear.  
You may the god of War himself defy,  
He must resign to Love's Artillery.  Ceaseth. To the other Ladies. 
Where ere you look, you conquer by surprise,  
Conquest still waits on those victorious eyes.  
Caesar did take his Motto sure from you,  
Who where he came or looked, did still subdue.  
Those glances like the Cephalian Dart wound still,  
And Parthian like, whilst you do fly, you kill,  A noise of Arms again. 
Caesar and Pompey are engaged I fear,  
And by the Noise, their Armies should be near.  
Please you we'll walk awhile within the Grove,  
And there discourse the Adventures of our Love.  Exeunt omnes. Uxama leading Selania as into the Grove. The Scene is the appearance of an Army. The Army's fight o'er the Stage, Pompey retreats. Enter Pompey hastily his Sword drawn. Pomp. 
Have I in War, as many actions done,  
As that proud Eastern Conqueror the Sun,  
Of Fortune rather than of Macedon!  
The amazed World filled with astonishment,  
Made haughty Nations tremble, where I went!  
Took Mithridates King of Pontus! More  
The Iberians never conquered yet before.  
Beat the Albanians twice! to the great Sea,  
The Roman Empire spread in Lyhia!  
Spain to the Atlantic, and Albania,  
To th' utmost limits of the Hyrcanian Sea!  
Triumphed so late, and am I beat so soon?  
A Prodigy the Sun should set at Noon.  
Have I Victorious been abroad, that now,  
At home, I should receive my overthrow?  Enter one of his Generals hastily, his Sword drawn. Pompey. 
How stands our Army?—  General. 
— Sir prepared to fly,  
If you think fit, or else resolved to die.  
The field is overspread with slaughtered men,  
And bloody conquest does incline to them.  
Resolve some course, before it be too late.  Pompey. 
we'll head our men again, and try our fate.  General. 
'Twere not courageous, but 'twere desperate.  
Fly to your Army, which does now remain  
Under your valiant General's Sir in Spain.  
Fight such Odds, 'tis Just as if you came,  
And with one Bucket sought to quench a flame.  
The game of War, should not be played, nor set  
Upon the odds, but on an even bet.  Pompey. 
True valour never thinks on odds, but knows,  
In War there is a chance and boldly throws.  
Let's to the field again, and something do,  
Both for our honour, and our Country too.  Exeunt. The Scene is the former Grove. Enter Uxama leading Selania. Astragia and her Sister. Parmeno servant to Uxama. Vxama. 
Prithee go on Selania to relate,  
The manner of the Shipwreck, and your fate.  Selan. 
The Winds began to roar, and Tempests now,  
Do plough deep furrows on the Ocean's Brow.  
The dismal Clouds do curtain up the Skies.  
And mask the guides of Heaven from our Eyes.  
No light appears, but when the Thunder comes,  
And Midwife's Lightning from the Cloud dark Wombs.  
One in our Bark (as if Seas could not) tries  
To drown himself in Waters from his Eyes.  
Such were his sighing accents, that the Wind,  
Did seem a Calm, to th' Tempests in his Mind.  
We all expecting to be cast away,  
The generous youth stood up, and thus did say.  
Vouchsafe to hear ye gods of Sicily,  
If to those Vows, my lover constant be,  
Safely conduct this Bark unto the Shore,  
But if grown false, I humbly do implore  
That I may perish here, and that the Waves  
May swallow me, into their liquid Graves.  
Just now out Ship was wracked, and each one strives,  
Upon the floating Planks to save their Lives,  
The Sea was calmed and winds do blow no more,  
But what might serve, to drive the Planks on shore.  
This Lady and myself had both designed,  
For the Italian Coast, the Heavens proved kind,  
And to the wished for shore, our Plank convey,  
But sure the youth did perish in the Sea.  Parmeno. 
Madam! I'm glad that after such Distress,  
You are arrived at so much happiness.  Lady. 
Once the companion of your harder fate,  
Your better fortune I congratulate.  
And as Vxama does restore your Joy,  
So now Astragia does my grief destroy.  Astrag. 
Before your Lovers, I your love prefer,  
If that by your example I do err,  
It is but Just you should the fault excuse.  
Since that his love, for yours, I do refuse.  
And may you now in him as happy prove,  To Selania. 
As does Astragia in her Sisters Love.  Vxam. 
Things gained with ease, we do contemn; but prize  
Those blessings which from dangers do arise.  
Love like to Conquest, should be prized the more,  
If that through dangers, it was sought before,  
Since our adventures then were dangerous,  
Let it be said none loved so well as us.  A noise of Arms. Enter three or four Soldiers as flying. Uxama and Parmeno draw. Sould. 
— Plunder I'faith.  Uxama. 
— Pray Ladies do not fear,  
These Cow-hearts fly the field to meet death here.  They fight. Uxama is taken, they seize the Ladies. Ast. 
Search Ages past and Records for their fate,  
The fair have seldom proved fortunate.  Enter Julius Caesar, Valerius, Curio and Soldiers. Caesar. 
What Fugitives are these? that thus presume  
To Captive others, when Death waits on them?  They are seized by Caesar's Soldiers. 
The Day was bloody, Curio! Pompey fought,  
And the Victorious Laurels bravely sought.  Curio. 
He fought with Resolution Sir 'tis true.  
But the Victorious Laurels are your due.  Valer. 
Conquest while in equal Balance stood,  
And War took equal tribute from our blood.  Curio. 
The Scale of Conquest which stood balanced thus,  
Being by your valour turned, inclined to us.  Valer. 
What can withstand your Power? when Eagles fly,  
All Birds of lesser prey, must quit the Sky.  Caesar. 
I do suppose to Spain that Pompey's fled,  
Since by Afranius there his Troops are led.  
With dreadful Ensigns I will march to Spain,  
And though his Arms join, the War maintain.  
The Gates of Janus now must open lie,  
And ne'er shall shut till death does close his Eye.  Valer. 
March on great Caesar till your Arms control,  
As far as th' Arctic and Antarctic Pole,  Curio. 
And plant the Trophies of Victorious Arms,  
By Sea and Land where ever Titan warms.  They are going off, Selania to Caesar. Selan. 
Vouchsafe for to accept our thanks as due,  
Since we all had our freedoms Sir from you.  
Though we confess our Obligation's more,  
Then thanks can pay, and gratitude's too poor.  Caesar. 
In freeing you I have more honour gained,  
Then in the field, though conquest I obtained.  
To this day's fortune I ascribe far more,  
Than to those many fields I fought before.  
Glory in this chief redounds to me,  
Not that I Pompey beat, but set you free.  
FINIS.    

EPILOGUE.  

IF at a Feast, You should not chance to light  
Upon one Dish, unto Your Appetite,  
You would condemn the Cook; just so You'll say,  
If not one Act prove good, throughout the Play.  
I Vow I did design to have good Cheer,  
Since You are like to pay for what is here,  
Which if rejected, or approved but Course,  
I'm sure the Stationer will far the worse.  
But if the Entertainment You approve,  
He humbly begs some token of Your Love.  
The Poet, if the Play no favour meet,  
Resolves for to do Penance, in each Sheet;  
And will presume no more to be in Print,  
Since His first Coin miscarried in the Mint.  
Your Kind Acceptance may prevent My fate,  
'Tis the King's Stamp, that gives the Metal Rate.  
The Rate's enhanced, and 'tis made Currant too,  
So shall this Play, if it be stamped by You.