ERMINIA OR, The fair and virtuous Lady. A Tragicomedy.  
Written by Rich. Flecknoe.  
Gratior— In pulchro corpore virtus.  Virg. 
LONDON, Printed for the Author, MDCLXI.   

To the Fair and Virtuous Lady, the Lady Southcot.  
Madam,  
I Profess to all the world, that Erminia is more yours then mine. From you I took the pattern of the Plot; from you the spirit of writing it; nor am I ever more Poet, then when I am with you at Mestham. There, free from the Distractions of the Town, my mind is recollected: there, 'tis at Repose, free from trouble and molestation: and there 'tis cheered and delighted, with cheerful and delightsom company. Your green Walks are my Parnassus; the Spring or Fountainhead, my Helicon: Nor could all the Muses together, more inspire me, than you alone.  
I am most glad then, that amongst my other Heroic Portraits, I made not yours before, that I might do it in a more particular manner now, in that of the Fair and Virtuous Erminia: And more particularly declare, how much I honour you; and how much I am,  
Madam, Your most devoted Servant, Rich. Flecknoe.   

THE PREFACE, To the only few, The Best and Noblest.  
I Promised you a Play, and to avoid farther importunity) behold it here. I cod not promise you it should be Acted, (for having no interest in the Stage, I leave that to those who have;) you may think it a preposterous way to Print it before it be Acted; but Printing it as I do, (to pass to private hands, not to the public) may no more prejudice it, than the first days Acting does the second; which if good, commends it but the more. It will want much of the grace and ornament of the Stage; but though thêre it be better seen, yet here 'tis better understood; mean while, a lively fancy may imagine he sees it Acted: and to help the imagination, I have set down the Scenes, the Habits, and Names of the Actors, who though I chiefly entitle, to the right of acting it, yet I intent not to depart with the Poets right of directing how it should be Acted. To conclude, I hope it may no ways prejudice it in opinion, to have him for Author who may say without vanity, that none knows more of the English Stage than he, nor has seen more of the Latin, French, Spanish and Italian; nor may it prejudice him to be the Author of it, (whatsoever the ignorant and envious say) of the same Profession with Petre Ronsard in France; Lopes the Vega in Spain; and the best and famousest Poets in Italy.   

The names of the Persons, The Actors names. The Duke of Missena, T. Bird, Cartwright. The Prince his Son, C. Hart. Cleander his General, M. Moon. Amynter his friend, Burt. 

Antenor  
Leontius   Courtilers of Missena & Argos 

R. Shatterel.  
Winterton.   Dimagoras a Soldier.  

Clinias,  
Cleobulo,   Two of Cleander's slaves. 

Wat. Clun.  
Lacy.   Aurindo, alias Cyrena, Princess of Argos Mrs. Win. Marshal. The Duchess, Mrs. Marg. Rutter. Erminia, Cleander's Lady, Mrs. Weaver. Althaea her woman, Mrs. Michael. 

Cleora,  
Olinda,   The Duchess' women.  Servant, Guards, etc.   
The Scene. Missena in Greece.  
The Habits, the ancient Military Attire, for the more Heroic parts: for the rest, the Toga, or Civil Vest, wide sleeved, and loosely flowing to the knees, silvered Buskins, etc. far more graceful and becoming then Querpo, especially for Cyrena represented in man's Attire.   

The Prologue for the Stage.  
You'd have new Plays, & when you have them, you  
Do by them, as Children by their Trifles do,  
'Slight and dislike them, and then cry for more,  
And use them just as you did those before:  
And this you think fine sport now, so don't they,  
(I tell ye Gentlemen) who make the Play.  
Notwithstanding, our Author gives you one  
this once, and comes with resolution,  
To try whether or no, t' be a Disease  
That reigns amongst you, no new Plays can please.  
And if he find it so, he bid me say,  
All th' harm they'll do him who condemn his Play;  
They'll bring him off o'th' Stage, into the Pit,  
To judge with them, of others Plays and wit  

Additions for the Court  
To others this. But to Your Majesty,  
Our Author here with all humility,  
Offers his Labours: chiefly he ' underwent,  
Most Royal Sir, for Your Divertisement.  
Counting it highest Happiness can be fall,  
To delight Him, who's the Delight of all.    

ERMINIA.  

ACTUS, 1. SCENA, 1.  Antenor, Leontius. The Scene the front of Erminia's Palace. Anth. 
NOble Leontius, once more you're kindly welcome to Missena. The many civilities and courtesies I received from you at Argos, obliges me to all the fair offices and services I can do you here.  Leon. 
Gentle Antenor, all I cod do to oblige a person of your worth, was abundantly rewarded in the doing it, and if you'd oblige me speak no more of it: let's talk of somewhat else.— We hear Cleander your noble General in the Attic War, with victory leading him, and fortune following him, goes on like lightning consuming all before him, and 'tis much wondered that employment, was not rather conferred upon the Prince, who wants nor years, nor experience in the wars, to make him fit for action; but necessity of state (it seems) required an older, and more experienced Soldier.  Anth. 
Betwixt you and I I'll tell you, those who not only look upon the outside of Prince's actions, but boldly pry into their insides too, say, 'twas not so much necessity of state that sent the brave Cleander to the wars, as more to facilitate the Duke's access unto his Lady the admired Erminia—. But how does your fair Princess Cyrena? that we may freely talk of; 'twas our hope the Prince at's being at Argos should have married her, but the destinies of marriage were not pleased it seems to make us so happy.  Leon. 
It was our hopes too, and we indeed wondered as much as you he should so suddenly leave her, but much more, she should so suddenly after leave her country, since when none knows, nor can imagine, what's become of her.  Anth. 
You amaze me with your news!  Leon. 
Mean time whilst others several ways address themselves in search of her, I'm come to Missena here, well knowing their former loves and the attraction of mutual hearts, when once theyare touched with the adamant of love  Ant. 
Alas, I fear you'll hardly find so much as her memory with him now, who only minds the fair Erminia, about whose palace restlessly day and night like some pale ghost he wanders, carefully seeking opportunity of seeing her, whilst she as carefully avoids his sight.  Leon. 
This than made him it seems with so little difficulty quit his place abroad to Cleander, in hope to enjoy his place at home.— And now I see among the many possibility of things, ne'er were, nor are, nor e'er are like to be; we well may reckon Lovers constancy.   

SCENA. 2.  Aurindo musing. Leontius, Antenor 
But what Youth's this, so fair and lovely, as curious Nature doubtful which sex to make, at last, i'th' framing him seems to have made one, who of either all perfections had.  Ant. 
Oh! 'tis Aurindo the Prince's page, much loved and favoured by him, but much more by the Duchess, who to avoid the Duke's jealousy preferred him to the Prince.  Leo. 
He muses on somewhat, and there is a solemn sadness in his face, excellently becomes him.  Ant. 
He is always sad and musing, what e'er's the matter: but I must leave you, and beseech you whilst you make your residence here, I may have honour to serve you. Exit.  Leo. 
You too much honour your servant, Sir.  Au. 
Now I perceive 'tis not the change of place but change of mind, brings lover's rest, else 'tis but just like sickmen's turning them in their beds, who sinde rest no where, 'cause they carry still their sicknesses and unrest along with them.  Leo. 
Sure I should know that face.  Aur. 
Leontius! I must hide me from him, and avoid his sight as I'd avoid my sears.  Leo. 
'Tis she I know for certain now by her care not to be known:— Hark you fair Youth, a word with you I pray.  Au. 
With me Sir! pardon me, I know you not.  Le. 
It rather besits me ask your pardon for knowing you. But fear not, I shall call you Aurindo still, or whatsoever name in public you please to be known by, so you'll give me leave in private to know you for my Princess.  Aur. 
Leontius though you might well perceive I desired not to be known, and therefore 'twas a bold curiosity; yet since I'm well assured you did it with no undutiful intent, I pardon you. But I command you let this secret pass no further, neither inquire the reason of my disguise. Whilst I am here (which I hope shall not be long) in private you may know me; but in public I charge you take no notice of me, neither be seen with me lest you discover me; for your court eyes are piercing ones, and there are many spies,— and hark I hear some coming, go, begone and leave me. Exit Leontius.   

SCENA, 3.  Althaea, Aurindo. 
What is't only she! this is Althaea Erminia's woman, who I know not for what sins of mine, unless for loving too much, is fearfully in love with me; deliver me from her, for love in aged veins, as fire in dry timber, burns always most terribly. I'd fain avoid her, she persecutes me worse than frosts do flowers, they blast, or Ivy, trees, they kill, with their embraces!  Alt. 
Gentle Aurindo! happily met, 'tis so long since I saw you last I might well expect the courtesy of a salute from you.  Aur. 
Oh— I were discourteous else: good Althaea I'm glad to see you well.  Alt. 
What no more! and that so coldly too.  Aur. 
What would you have? I know no other salutes.  Alt. 
You are not so ignorant as you'd seem, I'm sure, to know no better what salutes belongs to a Gentlewoman.  Aur. 
You would not have me make you a curtsy would you? that's your woman's salute, for mens I know no other.  Alt. 
Pity his ignorance; I'll teach you if you know not; sie, where have you been bred I wonder! you're so bashful! I must embolden you: this bashfulness in you, shows worse than impudence in woman; how nice and coy he is? 'twill cost me more pains and labour I fear to train him up to womens' businesses, then to break a wild unruly Colt unto the manage: come, come, pray sit down.  Au. 
Pardon me, I'm in haste and cannot stay.  Al. 
Always in haste! but tarry a little and I'll tell you all my Lady's secrets.  Au. 
I'm not curious.  Alt. 
Look you what's here— nor liquorish neither? h'as nothing of the Page in him.  Aur. 
Pray let me go, you have not seen my Lord the Prince?  Alt. 
Yes but I have though.  Aur. 
And where I pray?  Alt. 
Where you're not like to see him, let that suffice.  Aur. 
Nay, if you can tell me no more news of him, I must go seek out those that can, and so farewell. Exit.  Alt. 
Gone? well, I pity him he's such a backward thing, and pity the Prince who's as forward on t'other side; and one of these sighing lovers who sigh & sigh like dry pumps, or broken-winded bellows, for their Mistresses; and to hear them, you would never wonder at Lapland witches selling winds so cheap, and imbrakt (as he is) in my Lady love; I've sold him as much as comes to a little hope, send him a good voyage of it— but see my Lady, pray heaven my plot take, I've ventured hard to give the Prince entrance, and opportunity to speak with her.   

SCENA, 4.  The Sense, the Palace within. Erminia, Althaea. Er. 
Althaea are all the doors shut?  Al. 
They are Madam.  Er. 
And have you given order they let none enter?  Al. 
I have.  Er. 
'Tis well. So should wives live, honourable wives, solitary & retired when their husbands are away, always apprehending what will the people say; for 'tis not now with women as 'twas i'th' days of Innocence, when none imagined harm, 'cause none did any; but now if we admit men's visits, they presently speak ill of it; if womens' ill too, ill of every thing: & though public rumour be but a breath 'tis true, yet fame and honour is so pure a thing, as like crystal mirrors 'tis blemished with every breath, and more pure, more subject to blemishing.  Al. 
The more's the pity.  Er. 
Then if they stir abroad, the world's so foul and dirty, how nicely one must go, and step by step pick out their way, not to defile their Ermine purity?  Al. 
Lo there? and I go dash, dash, thorough thick and thin. that's my way now.  Er. 
Besides, how softly and warily must they tread, not to awaken rumour and calumny, which once fastening on our fames and honours, oh how they tear them with their poisonous teeth?  Al. 
What a terrible bandog does she make of it which other Ladies play with, as familiarly as with their little Shocks or Bononia Dogs?  Er. 
In fine, this fame's a hard lesson, and one must study it well.—  Al. 
Faith 'tis so hard as I despair Aside. ever to learn it. I must put her out of this study, or she's a lost woman. And why this retirement and solitude, Madam? most wives have never better days, then in absence of their husbands. What's a husband but a man? and there are men enough in the world besides.  Er. 
Is the wench mad?  Al. 
No, but we should think that woman so should pine away, and starve herself in her husband's absence; & this is just your case: uds bodkin before I'd torment myself so for want of a husband, I'd have twenty so I would.  Er. 
Peace Althaea, peace for shame, and cease thy idle talk.  Al. 
Pardon me, Madam, I am left in charge of your health, and must speak.  Er. 
Speak modestly then, for I am left in charge of my honour too, and must do that, it obliges me to do: nor shall Cleander purchase more honour abroad, then Erminia shall at home.  Al. 
That man never gets honour (nor woman that's never tried: what made Penelope (neither) so famous (I pray) in her husband's absence, but her entertaining so many Gallants as she did? there was a valiant woman now. Let them come as many as they would, she feared them not, she knew she cod deal with them all. And you to lock up yourself (a this manner) for fear of them! there's wise valour indeed!  Er. 
As though there were not as much valour, in Passive Fortitude, and holding out a siege, against the enemy, as in the Active one, of fighting them in the field. The one is Cleander's honour, the other shall be mine. In either we'll declare ourselves invincible.  Al. 
I grant you a man's honour chiefly consists in sighting, and a woman's in defending her chastity; but there's discretion in all things; a man may fight and fight, and yet be counted a quarrelsome Coxcomb for his pains: and a woman proud and peevish, in defending her chastity: give me a fair conditioned man or woman along as you live; & one, that understands reason. I cannot blame young maids to have always for burden of their song, a husband, a husband, for they never tried, and therefore may long perhaps; but for married wives to be always in that tone, and crying out for their husbands, like fools and children for their baubles, shows a kind of incontinence, and insatiate desire in them.  Er. 
Cleander was my first love, & shall be the last and only one I'll ever have.  Al. 
That shows your ignorance now; for as that man should never be a great scholar who never read but in onebook, so should she never be a wise woman, who never knew but one man. Variety is good in every thing; and use in that, as in all things else makes perfectness.  Er. 
Well Althaea, I know you say this by way of argument now, and only to try your wit; but take heed, 'tis dangerous disputing against known verities; and Atheism in Religion, Rebellion in States, and dissolution in life and manners, had all their rise at first from knowing the best, and arguing for the worst.  Al. 
Well then, since you will needs be so far out of fashion of other wives, to remember your husband in's absence; how can you better do't then by recommending him in your Orisons to the Gods? and my Lord Cleander being now exposed to the dangerous chance of war, towhom can you better recommend him, then to the God of war?  Er. 
Now thou advisest well.  Mars' Statue discovered, Erminia kneels. 
Great Mars, thou whose potent Arm does wield  
The deadly pointed Lance, and mighty Shield,  
Fight for my dear Cleander with the one,  
And with the other, O defend him from  
His enemies abroad, and grant that he  
May safely but return with victory:  
So shall I ever honour thee, ever pay  
My vows unto thee; and on thy Altars lay  
The purest offerings the world ere cod get,  
Or e'er were laid upon thy Altars yet.  
Hear me great Mars.   

SCENA, 5.  The Prince in form of Mars' Statue, Erminia, Althaea. Pr. 
I do.  Er. 
Prodigious! the Statue speaks!  Pr. 
'Tis you, fairest, have animated it.  Al. 
A good beginning, if it hold on as well.  Er. 
Cold horror seizes me! and I'm become by wondrous metamorphose, of living, a dead statue, as that of dead's become a living one.— And see it moves too! descends from his base.  Pr. 
'Tis your beauty, fairest, has given me life and motion; and if in the cold veins of frozen marble 'thas the virtuous force to inspire and infuse such spirit and vital heat, imagine in my bosom what it must needs beget. discovers himself  Er. 
Ha! my Lord the Prince!  Pr. 
The Prince your servant, dearest, for you metamorphosed into statue thus, for you, thus changed into myself again.  Al. 
Stay Madam, whither go you? he will not hurt you.  Er. 
Gods and my better Angels defend me! how came you here?  Pr. 
Your powerful charms, sweetest, did bring me hither.  Al. 
That's well answered, I was afraid he would have said 'twas I Aside.  Er. 
And what would you here?  Pr. 
Only that you would please to hear me speak.  Er. 
Though I might well deny you, coming as you do, yet on condition you speak nothing but what is honourable, nothing but what besits both you to say, and me to hear, I am content.  Al. 
Shame on this Honour, I'm afeared he'll hardly speed. Exit.  Pr. 
What can be more honourable? or how can I honour you more? then to come here with no less devotion, then to the Temple of the Immortal Gods, to offer my vows and orisons at your shrine.  Er. 
That's an Idolatry I cannot admit without a crime, an honour too too great and too divine for me.  Pr. 
To come to that which is more humane then, I come to beg your help for one that's sick, your pity for a miserable wretch, burns, languishes, and consumes away, for love of you.  Er. 
Nay, if you talk of love once, I'm gone.  Pr. 
And if you go I die:— of what should I talk but of love to you? who are all lovely? Cruel as you are, can ye behold my sufferings and never pity me! should Heaven be so pitiless, always to look upon the Earth with cruel Canicular eyes, we soon should see all bourn, languish, and consume like me.  Er. 
You call me cruel, and you yourself are far more cruel to yourself than I; for what remedy for one, will needs be sick? or what means to quench their fires will needs Nero-like, be their own incendaries? But now, to let you see I'm not so pitiless as you imagine me, If't be my sight occasions your malady, and inflames you so, I'll instantly be gone and leave you.  Pr. 
Ah do not, do not go; that were a remedy worse than the disease. Think not, think not excellents of your sex to quench the fire you've kindled in my breast by taking away the Torch that kindled it; that were to mock my flame and me. No, no, your Eyes have double virtue, to wound and cure me too.  Ere 
'Tis vice not virtue to kindle unlawful fires. Know Sir, I am another's: and as 'twere crime in me to give away what's none of mine, so 'tis no less in you to covet what's none of yours.  Pr. 
'Tis crime in Cleander rather to appropriate to himself an universal good, and injustice in you to consent unto th' impoverishing the world to enrich Cleander's bed.  Er. 
And you would steal me from him. Is this noble? this Princelike? do you not see one may as well bereave you of your principality.  Pr. 
I may taste the fruit and yet not be proprietary of the Tree.  Er. 
Without theft you cannot, unless the owner will; and I'm so absolutely Cleander's, he cannot alienate me though he would, nor relinquish his right of me. Enter Althaea hastily.  Al. 
O Madam, Madam!  Er. 
Ha! what's the matter?  Al. 
My Lord the Duke.  Er. 
What shall we do then? My Lord, you see what dishonour you're like to bring upon my house and me, if you be seen here.  Al. 
To your disguise my Lord; be a statue again, and all will be well: nay quickly, quickly, so.   

SCENA, 6.  The Duke, Erminia, Althaea, the Prince. Duk. 
What's here? silence; where Fame's loudest tongue proclaims all Excellency? and solitude, where she is, who with fames of her excellence fills all the world? leave, leave this sadness Madam: I come to bring you joyful news. Cleander your noble husband has finished the wars, and only attends dispatch of a few affairs, to return and bring us peace, and you the joy and happiness of seeing him.  Er. 
Your Highness too much honours your humblest servant, to be messenger of this yourself. Propitious heaven has heard my prayers for the public safety than I see, if Cleander but return with victory.  Duke. 
And I hope You'll have some care of my private safety too, fair cruel Mistress, and not suffer me to perish here at home, whilst Cleander so nobly abroad, preserves us all from perishing.  Er. 
Can you remember that my Lord, and be so unjust and ungrateful to him, to seek to dishonour him, who honours you so much; and tempt me to so vild ingratitude?  D. 
Dishonour is but the blasting of public breath let us be private only in what we do, and there's no fear of that.  Er. 
Whilst there is heaven and conscience, there ' no privacy for sin.  Du. 
there is no greater sin than uncharitableness and want of love, and of that you're highly guilty Erminia. Think on't, and though it be Empire to be beautiful, yet Majesty and Beauty share Empire equally betwixt them, and remember I'm your Prince.  Er. 
I do my Lord, and would your Highness did but remember't too, and the mighty obligation Princes have to be good & virtuous; who are to give example of goodness, and virtue unto all. Princes are public fountains, from whose manners all others are derived; & if they be infected once, a general infection necessarily follows:— and is this the example you give the Prince your Son?  Duk. 
Pho! he sees it not, and hears not of it.  Er. 
But statues, have ears, and eyes.  Pr. 
Will she discover me?  Alt. 
What will become of this? I must find out some means to send him hence, or he'll mar all. Exit.  Duke. 
Come, now we are alone, I must tell you, modesty's a habit Ladies wear in public, & it becomes them well: but in private they always lay't aside, & so should you. And if you'd know the difference 'twixt the modest and immodest, 'tis only this; t'one puts off their modesties with their clothes, t'other before, that's all.  Er. 
I'll tell you my Lord another difference yet, the modest stop their ears 'gainst such immodest purposes as these, and can't endure to be where they are spoke.  Duke. 
Stay, you will not leave me, I hope.  Er. 
I hope you will not force me? should you offer it, the very statues here (I'm sure) would stand up in my defence. The statue moves.  Duke. 
Ha!  Er. 
And see the God of War, in just resentment of the injury you offer to the best of Warriors, begins to stir in it. Enter Althaea hastily again.  Alt. 
Oh, Madam, Madam!  Er. 
What news!  Alt. 
My Lords ' returned.  Er. 
Is't possible?  Du. 
How! without my privity, and unknown it cannot be.  Er. 
Beseech you my Lord be gone. to me Cleander loves me more than his life I know, but his honour more than me. Imagine then what storms and tempests the clouds of jealousy to see you here must raise in his noble mind.  Du. 
I'm so confounded I know not what to say, nor what to do. Exit.  Alt. 
So, let him go to's Duchess to cure his love-sick fever; she's young & handsome and having so good remedy at home, what needs he seek abroad? But for the Prince, the poor Prince, who's wholly unprovided, in truth 'twere charity to help him.  Er. 
Well remembered help, help him away before my Lord comes, by any means.  Alt. 
There's no fear of that: his coming was only a story feigned by me to send the Duke away.  Er. 
Nothing else?  Pr. 
Excellent Wench, than I may be myself again. Leaps down. A noise of sighting within.  Er. 
Hark, what noise is this! clashing of weapons? louder and louder still? there is some fighting. Althaea shut the doors and call up all our servants. Exit.  Alt. 
What? hoa, Clinias, Cleobulo. Exit.  Pr. 
What should this be? the noise comes from the Garden door where I commanded my followers to attend me, and let none enter, but make good that passage till my return. I'll out and see what 'tis.  Draws, and Exit.  

SCENA, 7.  Enter one running meeting Clinias, Cleobulo. I. 
O Clinias! run, run.  Clin. 
What to do?  I. 
No matter for that: run, run I say,  Clin. 
But whither?  I. 
More interrogations! no matter for that neither; run, run, as you will answer it. Exit.  Clin. 
Hurry, hurry, hurry, these fellows think no business can be done without noise and bustle; and I must make a noise and bustle too, They'll think I'm idle else. Who, who, who.  Enter Cleobulo with hands in his Pocket. Clin. 
Come come what haste you make now? and all the house is in an uproar.  Cle. 
Therefore I make no more haste, I do not love these uproars and hurlyburlies, I; but what's the matter can you tell?  Clin. 
Nay hang me if I know, or much care either; only if't be any fighting matter, fight who's list for me, I have no mind unto't.  Cle. 
Faith nor I neither; wherefore an't sayst the word, let's to the cellar, for that's a Sanctuary; & for reverence of god Bacchus I hope they will respect it accordingly.  Cli. 
Content, but let's make haste then, for I hear some coming.   

SCENA 8.  The Scene, Erminia's Garden-wall, terminated by the prospect of her Palace. Cleander, Amynter, with their Swords drawn, taking off their false Beards. Am. 
That sure was the Duke who first went hence, but who those other were, denied us passage; or he who last came out disguised, and so fiercely assaulted us, I do not know.  Cle. 
But I had known, or searched his heart for it, had they not rescued him. and is this the so renowned Ermenia? for solitude, in my absence! she sat like solitary Turtle in absence of its mate: no Anchoress more enclosed, no Recluse more retired! to whom there's more resort, than ever was to Corinth in ancient time, when Thais and Phrine were in their prime, those famous prostitutes; prostituting her Fame and honour, if not herself.— Thanks to my disguise for this discovery, in which I thought to have ta'en her by surprise to our greater joy; but now to my greater grief I'm more surprised myself.  Am. 
Indeed 'tis passing strange.  Cle. 
But from the witness of these eyes of mine I might not have believed it. Why this is right Courtesan like: Bravoes disposed at door to let in Customers, keep their pleasure free and undisturbed; the door's open to all, only debarred to me, her Husband.  Am. 
Nay now you go too far with your suspicions.  Cl. 
I'll go farther yet, none knows of my arrival but only you; you shall conceal me, and present me to her as a present sent from me in some disguise, may gain me not only access into the house, but into her bosom too.  Am. 
Had you not better discover you presently, I do not like this seeking that we should be loath to find, and hunting with our own curiosities, but our own disquiets.  Cle. 
Our quiets rather, for so knowing for certain what now I but suspect, my mind will be at rest, imagine else how miserable I should be, to have the marriage bed poisoned with jealousy, and all its sweets imbittered with the thought that she is false? no, I like not this gentle handling wounds, which till theyare thoroughly searched, can never be throughly cured: I am resolved to try. What e'er may chance, of all evils the worst is ignorance.  Am. 
Pray Heavens you find not jealousy a worser yet, for ignorance though't be a dull disease, yet 'tis not painful; 'tis a Lethargy of mind, benumbs us so, as though we're sick, we know not how sick we are: but jealousy like the Wolf, or Viper's brood knaws and tears out their very bowels, who breed it, and give it food.  Cle. 
'Tis not to be jealous, but free from jealousy I undertake this trial, and to take myself off the painful rack of doubt.  Am. 
They make themselves more miserable than they were, who fall from what they doubt to what they fear  C. 
Dispute it no more, I am resolved to try her; and as I find her faith and Loyalty, away she goes, or else my Jealousy.   
Finis Actus primi.   

ACTUS, 2.  

SCENA, I.  The Scene, a Garden. Aurindo. 
FIe on these men, let never woman trust them more, for my sake, for they all are false, as is this Prince, this most perfidious Prince, and all glory in deceiving them, as he, false as he is, glories in deceiving me. What a lost thing am I? without a name and being; neither what I was, nor what I am, Cyrena nor Aurindo: my very thoughts are lost too i'th' Labyrinth of myself with thinking on it.— Here by this fountain side I'll lay me down and try whenever I can sleep. if wearied slaves whose bodies are oppressed with heavy burdens, would be glad to rest; much more would lovers, whose minds bear about a heavier weight within, than they without.   

SCENA, 2.  A Song, after which the Duchess appears above in her Window, and spies Aurindo sleeping. Duch. 
There there he sleeps, and there does take his rest, for whom I restlessly do wake; Such was Narcissus, only this more wise, not to behold himself in mirror of that liquid Crystal Fountain, shuts his eyes. Sleep, sleep fair youth, for so, I do not see those murdering eyes, that kill me with their sight yet wake, wake too, for whilst you sleep you take from me the delight I have in seeing them, and your repose is my tormenting; but that which most of all torments me, is the strife betwixt desire and shame to let him know my love, like struggling twins tearing the womb that bears them: nor do I know yet whether's the greater pain, either to lose my love, or lose my shame,— I must find out some way to secure both. Aurindo, Aurindo.  Aur. 
Ha! who calls?  Duc. 
'Tis I.  Au. 
The Duchess! your pleasure Madam?  Duc. 
Look in that same Fountain, see if thou canst find the portrait there of one I dearly love.  Au. 
I see nothing Madam.  Du. 
Thou canst not be so blind; or as thou resemblest Cupid the god of Love in all things else, thou art ambitious perhaps to resemble him in blindness too; look look well, I see it hither to.  Au. 
I see nothing but myself.  Duc. 
And is that nothing Fool? I must come down myself I see, or thou wilt never find it.  Au. 
Now I know what portrait, 'tis she means, but 'tis not fit she know it, to save her shame; from which if you but take away restraint of modesty once, all other restraints are vain: is there no end? no mean of thy persecution love? but I must be thus persecuted both actively and passively, thy Quiver and Arrows both?   

SCENA, 3.  The Duchess Aurindo below. Duc. 
Now have you found it yet?  Au. 
No Madam, yet I have sought and sought.  D. 
well, you may cease your search, no matter for the portrait, now the original is so nigh.  Au. 
Where is't? I see't not.  Du. 
No! run presently to my apartment, fetch my mirror here, and I'll convince thee to thy face thou dost.  Au. 
How crafty and cunning she's, to conceal her love, and to declare it too?  Duc. 
Yet you may stay too, I'll be that glass this once, Look in mine eyes, and thou shalt find it there; look in my face, see if I do not blush.  Au. 
Madam I see no other blushes there, but such as Aurora, such as the blushing Rose, or Beauty's self would wear.  Du. 
'Tis very good, I am glad you are so courtly yet.— Ay me! what can be secret in a Lover, when their own blushes, their own loves discover? learn learn Aurindo, if yet thou dost not know, when ever thou hear'st one sighing so, or seest them blush, 'tis only for Love.  Au. 
What's that? nothing but affected ignorance can secure me. Aside.  Duc. 
Nay, if thou know'st not, thou canst not imagine how delicious a thing it is to love, and be beloved; nor yet how great a pain it is to love, and not be loved again.  Au. 
I know it alas! but too too well unto my grief. How she goes driving me Aside. farther and farther still into the toils will inextricably entangle us both, and how to avoid it I do not know.   

SCENA, 4.  The Duke enters and starts back seeing them together. Duk. 
Ha!  Au. 
Madam my Lord the Duke.  Duc. 
He here!  Au. 
Never was poor condemned wretch awaiting every hour his execution, more glad of his reprieve, than I am now of mine.  Duc. 
That he should come when I'd half past the shame, which now is wholly to begin again?— He looks as he were jealous too, to see us here together.  Duke. 
I like not this privacy, but the liberty of reprehensions lost, when we ourselves are guilty once, of that we'd reprehend in others.  Duc. 
My Lord I know not whether I should more wonder or rejoice, to see you returned so soon; you said you went a hunting, and what sudden accident has made you leave the Chase so soon?  Duke. 
Nothing, nothing, Enter Prince only I cod find no Game.  Prince. 
'Tis true, and I'm glad you were frustrated as well as I. Aside. Enter Antenor and Leontius.  Duc. 
I must dissemble O my dearest delight of my delight, joy of my joy, how do I love your sight? how jealous? how fearful I am of every thing? the ground's too hard (me thinks) you tread upon, the air not soft enough you breathe; and as oft as any one looks on you, me thinks they usurp a right and privilege belongs to me alone,— I mean thee Aurindo. looking towards him.  Duke 
This is dissembling, and I must dissemble too; Aside. and I my dearest when thouart absent die, to think what happiness, what felicity they enjoy, enjoy thy presence; and what delight theyare deprived of, are deprived of thy sight.  Enter Cleora and Olinda. Pr. 
He means Erminia I'm sure.  Leo. 
Hei day! here's brave courtship now; where shall you find a married couple, and married so long too, so kind and complimental? this in a Gallant to his Mistress, would show handsomely now; but in a husband to his wife, looks as ridiculously as to compliment with ones self.  Ant. 
ay, but there's more in it then so; 'tis all dissembling, rank dissembling, not only pieces it out with the Fox's tail, but is all Fox, and stinks; you may see it plain, for dissimulation whilst 'tis solicitous to do enough, most commonly over does; and through its care to conceal its self, but discovers itself the more.  Pr. 
Pray who was this Duchess before he married her?  Ant. 
Why, a Lady he married in second nuptials only for her beauty, the frailer part of woman. and that which men are soonest cloyed with, which yet she cunningly seasons so, she keeps him always in fresh appetite; and there's nothing but my dearest, and my dearest with them.  Leo. 
See, see, how the Lady's flock about the Page?  Ant. 
ay, this young and handsome is a bait catches women as fast as nux vomica does crows, and intoxicate them much alike too. The modester sort of them, use men as they do Lions, play with them when they are young, but grown old once, theyare afeard of them: and if the Page be modest too, let him look to himself, for they'll try what mettle he's made of.  Leo. 
Marry, heaven defend! Aside. for they'll soon find him a counterfeit  Cleo. 
Fie, fie, you must learn more boldness, this modesty's virtue i'th' Country, but vice i'th' Court; come to our Chambers we'll read you a Lecture of it, 'tis here, one of the Liberal Sciences.  Ant. 
A my conscience he's a Maid still, you may see by's blushing.   

SCENA, 5.  Amynter, Duke, Duchess, Prince, etc. Duk. 
Amynter! welcome, welcome brave Soldier, 'twas rumoured Cleander was returned; and now I see 'twas but half false, since you t'one half, of him are here, and where's your other half?  Am. 
Great Sir yet he's not come, but will be shortly here; mean time by these he kisses your Highness hands, with full information o'th' state of your affairs.  Duke. 
We're glad to hear from him, and should be much more glad to see him  Prin. 
I'm sure you would not, nor I neither. Aside.  Duke. 
And how does our valiant General  Am. 
As he does always Sir in time of war, sowing you battles, and reaping you victories, which now the war's past, and glorious harvest done, he's binding up in sheaves to bring you home.  Duk. 
Let's see what he writes. The Duke reads.  Duc. 
Amynter you're welcome home. Am. kisses the Duchess hand, than the Prin.  Pr. 
And take my welcome too.  Duc. 
Tyrannous honour! cruel greatness! as if we were great only to be miserable, and put on state, but to put off ourselves; they may converse freely with Aurindo now, without all fear of this man's talk, and that man's jealousy, no honour lost: whilst I with all my greatness dare to do that the least I wish the most.— Cleora, Olinda, come hither, you were courting Aurindo there, I saw it well enough: go too, I must, have you more modest, d'ye see  Cleo. 
She's jealous, Aside. and forbids us Aurindo's company, as severe Mrs. forbid their maids eating those dainties they reserve for their own tooth and palate.  Duc. 
And how d'ye find him, ha!  Cli. 
A little bashful Madam, and nothing so bold as Pages are at Court.  Duc. 
You'll soon make him bold enough, if he frequent your company; he has some secret outlet I fear for his affection, makes him no fuller of it, that usually overflows in those of his age; for curiosity Cleora observe his haunts, and let me know, d'ye hear?  Cle. 
I shall Madam.  Duc. 
I as much suspect the Dukes over kindness as his want of it; nor is't so strange in nature, that so different effects should from the same causes grow.  Duke. 
Cleander like a valiant Soldier here recounting his noble actions, writes modestly of himself, and shuns boast the Coward's valour.  Am. 
h'as learned that lesson (sir) i'th' school of war, no language better becomes a soldier's mouth, than silence of their own praises, who when they once are their own trumpets, have never that of fames to found them forth; and when from their high and glorious achievements once they fall so low as boast, the glory of all their actions is lost.  Duke. 
And have you visited Erminia yet?  Am. 
My duty first performed unto yonr Highness, next is to visit her.  Duke, 
Y'ave Letters and commends from Cleander to her?  Am. 
I have my Lord, and amongst the rest am to commend unto her more freedom & courtship; Cleander does not like her sad and sullen retirement and solitude.  Duk. 
He's wife in't, it shows him not jealous, which men would else suspect; besides it more secures him of her: for women commonly most long for that theyare most debarred of, and take the restrain away, their longing ceases. Go, remember me to her, and tell her we shall shortly visit her.  Am. 
I shall my Lord,— that's it the train was laid for. Exit.  Duke. 
Still eyeing the boy? of such light sparks as those your fires are kindled, unextinguishably inflame the marriage bed with jealousy. Hark you Antenor, do you observe our Duchess, not that we suspect her, but only to preserve her from suspect; you're wise I know▪ and understand.  Ant. 
So I've got an office now; sure his Highness takes me to have more wit or less honestly than I have, that he employs me in spyery, but I must stretch both a little now, to serve him.  Duke. 
Come my dearest, thus by short intervals we rise from feasts, only to return with greater appetite, let me glut mine eyes with pleasure once, gen and in full draughts take down the sight of thee▪ whilst I can never accord satiety and fruition together. Exeunt omnes. manent.   

SCENA, 6.  Antenor, Leontius, Cleora after. Leo. 
Again at his compliments?  Ant. 
I and again at his dissembling, mean time theyare either of them as jealous as neighbouring States, and jealousy of all vices in old men's is the greatest; for 'tis not only jealousy, but envy too.— And what difference i'faith betwixt a Bawd and Spy now?  Leo. 
Why theyare i'th' contrary extremes, t'one hinders love matters, t'other furthers them; besides a, Spy is a State Bawd, and a Bawd a womanspy.  Ant. 
Nay, if that be all, Enter Cleora. I shall love my employments the better for it, & go about it with more cheerfulness & alacrity; but see Cleora, she tarries for somewhat: and as women always imagine there's some ill in all men say, so we to be quit with them always imagine there's some ill in all they do.— I'll to her,— sweet Cleora if there be any thing wherein I may serve you, know.—  Cleo. 
What do I know? that you're more troublesome and importune, then Flies and Wasps in summer: and for your service yed best set up a Bill, or go to the office of Address, to tell what a serviceable man you are, and amongst your other good qualities be sure you put in your short neck like a roasted Pig, your smirking and fleering, as much as to say, who'll laugh at me? and your stubble beard for kissing costs us more Pomatum.— I'd as lief kiss thorough a hair sive.  Ant. 
I there 'tis now, your smooth faced boys carry it clearly away from us bearded men; and 'tis with kissing as 'tis with bowling, they love not rough grounds for fear of rubs, but in a smooth Alley they trundle it away, and so I will too, for I've enough of her.  Exit with Leontius. Cleo. 
My Lady sets me to watch Aurindo now, and though this playing the spy in love matters be no hard task, yet 'tis a ticklish one; and I imagine to find as much pleasure and delight in it as they, who look upon the Game whilst others play.   

SCENA, 7.  The Prince, Aurindo, Cleora. 
See where he comes and the Prince with him, I'll stand here and stretch mine ears upon the tenters this once to overhear them.  Aur. 
It grieves me to see him so sad and pensive, and I'd fain comfort him, and try whether I can do that for him, I have more need another should do for me.— If't mayn't appear too great a boldness to ask your Highness, I should desire to know, why you're so sad and pensive; sure my Lord it can be nothing but love that makes you so, the gentle companion of every gentle breast.  Prin. 
thouart in the right boy, and since thou hast seen so far into me; I'll make no difficulty to declare unto thee all the rest, and tell thee who 'tis I love too.  Aur. 
God of desire, now grant it may be I. Aside,  Pri. 
Thou knowest the fair Erminia I'm sure, she who as far outshines all other beauties, as the Sun all other lights, 'tis she I love.  Aur. 
Disloyal and perfidious. Aside. can I hear this, and not hate him for it?— and pray my Lord did you never love before?  Pri. 
Yes a little at Argos once for fashion sake, but that now is quite forgot, and my heart by love's fire tempered to a delicate softness, has of late received another impression has quite effaced that.  Aur. 
Learn, learn all ye deceived, Virgins learn what temper false men's hearts are made of, and how you're deceived by them.— And does she give ear unto your suit?  Pr. 
Oh no! but is as deaf unto't, Ulysses to the Sirens cod be no more, against whose charms he obstinately stopped his ear, and none hear worse than those who will not hear.  Aur. 
Heaven then is just I see, and punishes him for's falsehood unto me.  Pr. 
But methinks thou art sad and pensive too, now I consider it better, and by thy own rule, I should guests thou wert in love too.—  Au. 
Who I? I can assure your Highness, if I have any love 'tis only love of you.  Pr. 
Thanks gentle Boy, I've always experienced thee loving and trusty; and to repay thy trust, I'll not only make thee confident of my love, but advocate too to plead for it unto Erminia.  Aur. 
Cruel office; and is't not enough to be undone, but I must be made instrument myself of my own undoing? and if this be the reward of my faith and love, how would he reward my hate and disloyalty?  Pr. 
Thou shalt to Erminia then, Speaking this, removing nearer Cleora. Althaea will introduce thee, give her but this jewel from me, and hark thee.—  Cle. 
All I can o'erhear of their discourse, is, Aurindo is going to Erminia, and Althaea's to introduce him; 'tis enough of intelligence for once, this goes unto the Duchess. Exit.  Prin. 
Go, and make me ever happy. Exit.  Aur. 
And myself ever unhappy by it, what shall I do? but what a question's that? those who deliberate have some will of their own, but I have none; with resolution great as is my love then, I'll go and plead for him against myself; and though my heart disavow all my tongue says, yet it shall say it, or I'll disavow it to be mine: no matter for the pain I suffer, who truly love do know.  
" no pleasure, no contentment is above  
" the delightful pain we suffer for those we love.  
Finis Actus secundi.    

ACTUS 3.  

SCENA I.  Cleander like an Ethiope, Amynter. The Scene, Erminia's Palace. Cleander. 
You're sure the Duke will visit her.  Am. 
I'm sure, if he love her he'll rather die then fail; and if he fails, 'tis sign he loves her not.  Cle. 
'Tis well, make haste to present me to her then, I would be present at their parley and interview; and what d'ye think? am I sufficiently disguised?  Am. 
Disguised! you're changed, and are no more Cleander; Proteus was never so transformed: I, who know you even doubt whether it be you, & were your thoughts but changed as all the rest, yourself would doubt whether 'twere yourself or no.  Cle. 
Then do you tell her I'm both deaf and dumb, that so having provided for all without, that nothing from within may issue forth to betray me, I'll shut up the port of speech, and my thoughts shall hold no intelligence with my tongue.  Am. 
Peace, here comes some of the house, you'll see how they'll wonder to see me here.   

SCENA, 2.  Althaea to them, than Erminia, Clinias, Cleobulo. Alt. 
How Amynter! my Lords inseparable companion & bosom friend! O madam, madam, who's here d'ye think? Enter Erminia, Clinias, Cleobulo after.  Fr. 
Ha, Amynter! was it instinct or prophecy in thee, to say my Lord was come?  Alt. 
I know not, I'm sure I meant it for a lie; and if it should prove true now, what should I say, but I've good luck with lying.  Er. 
Amynter, to me who never joyed since Cleander went, 'tis twilight of joy to see you; and such a promise of seeing Cleander here, as is Aurora of seeing the day: and where is he, I see him not?  Am. 
Madam, he sends you all health and happiness, with the assurance he'll shortly be here.  Er. 
Shortly! how shortly? all time seems too long, an hour a day, a day a year, a week an age, until I see him; and there is no health nor happiness for me without him.  Clea. 
Dissembler. Aside.  Am. 
Mean time by these he kisses your fair hands, and by me presents you with this Ethiope here, Emblem of his affection, whose colour can never change.  Er. 
And I'll keep him as emblem of mine, what qualities has he?  Am. 
A more trusty servant no where lives than he, more valiant, nor more intelligent, although both deaf and dumb.  Er. 
What means he now? you understand his signs.  Am. 
With all humility he dedicates himself and service t'ye, and vows perpetual faith. He bows, kisses his hands, and lists them up to heaven.  Er. 
And now!  Am. 
He solemnly protests he'll fight and die for you. He draws his sword, in action of fighting, then sets it to his breast.  Er. 
A goodly personage,— but let me read my Letters,  Alt. 
Hum! deaf and dumb! pretty qualities to sit in the chimney corner: let's see for's dumbness, I like that well enough, he won't tell tales; and for his deafness too, 'tis no great matter, men naturally understand what women would have them do; were he blind too, he'd make the better husband, only I like not his colour: But for that all men are black in the dark, and I may chance to try him one of these nights.  Cli. 
And art not thou glad now my Lord is coming home?  Cleo. 
Why should we be glad fool? we shall be only Clinias and Cleobulo, a couple of poor slaves still; but what a fellow servant has he sent us here? both deaf & dumb! what shall we do with him?  Cli. 
Why, we'll be sure to put all th' work of the house upon him, let him put it off again as well as he can; best is we may use him as we lift, he can't complain of us.  Cleo. 
But is he not too gallant to work dost think?  Cli. 
We'll make him do it, for all his Gallantry.  Cle. 
D'ye think he'll suffer it? he seems a sturdy piece.  Cli. 
We'll make him suffer it too, for all his sturdiness, I'll warrant you.  Cleo. 
Content then  Er. 
How's this? he writes me here, he'd have me quit my sadness and solitude, and be more free and courtly. If this be his pleasure, he has strangely changed his mind; but I am all obedience, and am not to dispute but to obey his will: and how has he his health well?  Am. 
Passing well. all his malady is only want of you.  Er. 
And why is he not his own Physician then? no wounds I hope?  Am. 
None dangerous, all he had are now converted to honourable scars.  Er. 
But that I fear to trouble you with my questions, I should never cease questioning you.  Alt. 
Madam the Duke.  Cleo. 
Now, now.   

SCENA, 3.  The Duke, Erminia, Cleander, Amynter, the rest retire. Am. 
I will observe them. stands concealed  Du. 
why now the clouds of sadness are overblown y' appear like yourself the bright Erminia: So beauty should appear, cheerful and gay, nature's best ornament, only the wise know how to wear, the foolish mar i'th' wearing. And now you've elevated again your fair and long dejected eyes, with hope to see Cleander shortly here; whilst you cast them every ways about to look for him, I hope a glance at least may light on me.  Er. 
Your Highness is not to be looked upon so slightly.  Clea. 
Now, now it begins.  Er. 
I look upon you as my Sovereign Lord and Prince.  Duk. 
That's at too great a distance, look on me as one who admires and honours you, and your lover rather.  Clea. 
ay, there 'tis.  Er. 
That my Lord were too great presumption, and no less impudence, in one already married.  Cleo. 
She cunningly holds off to draw him on.  Duk. 
Think not of that: marriage of its self is a tie straight enough, we need not straiten it more with superfluous nicety; but let's talk no more of it,— I've somewhat to say in private t'ye, but send that Slave away.  Er. 
He's both deaf and dumb my Lord, and's presence can be no hindrance to what you have to say,  Duk. 
But he can see though; and 'tis not fit what we do in private should be seen by every one.  Er. 
'Tis fit for those have care of their fames and honours; and for me, I will do nothing but what I cared not, though all the world did see.  Clea. 
I like that answer well, 'tis discreet and modest.— If I should be deceived in her, never was man more glad to find his hopes true, than I should be to find my fears were false.  Duk. 
You talk of honour, know Princes are the fountains of it; and there's none but what does flow from them, all's honourable they do, so is my love.  Er. 
Nothing is honourable, that is not virtuous too; make your love so then; else you might as well call Vice, Virtue; and Hell, Heaven; as Lust, Love; and Dishonour, Honour; as you do. Know my Lord, the acts of marriage are such, as matrimony itself (holy as it is) can scarcely make honourable and lawful; but imagine how dishonourable and unlawful they must needs be without it then.  Clea. 
What a wretch and villain I was ever to suspect her?  Duk. 
Come you think you do a high act of justice now, to be true unto Cleander; but alas you are deceived, justice consists in equality, and equality there's none; you should be true to him, that's false to you.  Er. 
Should any but your Highness tell me so, I'd say he lied, most basely lied: Cleander false? the Gods, Truth itself ' would as soon be false as he.  Clea. 
My own dear dear wife.  Duke. 
Ha, ha, ha, I pity you, to see you so abused, and to disabuse you; know Cleander has another Mistress in Attica he warms with's embraces, whilst Erminia in her cold bed freezes here: why should he tarry so long away else think you, the wars now at an end?  Er. 
And is that all your argument? how ill you argue Sir, as if gold by th' touchstone should be rendered false, or men guilty by tiral of their innocence: absence is the only touchstone and trial of our loves; in it we but repeat by heart that lesson, which in presence we learned before. And as in presence of those we love we are all eyes, so in absence we are all thought of them; as I am of Cleander, and I'm sure he is of me.  Clea. 
My dearest dearest wife still.  Er. 
And was it for this you sent him to the wars. to overthrow your enemies abroad, at price thus of my overthrow at home? he's much obliged t'ye sure, and now I see 'twas not to honour him, but dishonour me.  Duk. 
This will not do, I must try some other way.— Aside. Come, I would not force what I might obtain by gentleness.  Er. 
You would not? you cannot Sir;— talk to me of force! should you but offer it, I'd sooner kill myself then suffer it: Draws her knife. unhand me as you love my life my Lord, as you love your own life do; do you not see him look there as he'd kill you presently, lest you desist.  Duke. 
Ha! the villain looks terribly indeed, and I'm afeard of him: Gods and fiends I think conspire to defend her from me, and hinder my pursuit, I'm resolved yet to go on, spite of them.— Farewell, your Bravo has saved you this once, make much of him, but I shall find a time.— Exit.  Er. 
Althaea, where's this woman? Enter Althaea.  Alth. 
Here Madam.  Er. 
And why not here? you must be always leaving me alone; either wait closer, or I shall provide me of those who will.  Alth. 
Pardon me Madam, when a Lord and Lady are together, 'tis good manners in the waiting-woman, and part of their breeding (I take it) to leave them alone.  Er. 
Is't so? go too, you're grown so impudent of late, (whatsoere's the matter) you're quite marred again; or mend it, or you and I must part,— look to't. Exit.  Alt. 
ay, say you so? then 'tis time to look to't indeed. Exit.   

SCENA, 4.  Cleander, Amynter. Cle. 
O friend was ever man more happy in a wife than I am in Erminia? didst observe (for thou heardst all I know) how she answered the Duke? how she confounded him? and made even impudence itself to blush, whilst chastity like a Phoenix burnt in her eyes with anger and indignation at his unchaste purposes, & darted lightning at him. Oh ye Gods! Erminia is as white I see as is her name or innocence itself, and I'm o'erjoyed with it.  Am. 
I joy you've found her so.  Clea. 
You would not have had me jealous now, and see what's come on't, without my jealousy I'd never known thus much.  Am. 
I am most glad you've so good issue of it, and that jealousy its parent's dead that gave it life; and what will ye do now?  Cle. 
What! but instantly cast off my disguise, and discover me unto her— but stay! who's this? more visitants!   

SCENA 5.  Aurindo meeting Althaea, Cleander, Amynter. Am. 
Althaea, happily encountered, I was just seeking you.  Al. 
And I'm glad of it, for I was just thinking on you; and see how one's thoughts will come to pass! well what's your business? whatsoever it be, you're like to speed, I can tell you that.  Au. 
Take heed Althaea. that whatsoever has a large extent, and she who promises that denies nothing, not so much as herself.  Alt. 
Well concluded I promise you, you've studied Grammar and Logic too I see, and want not Rhetoric neither for a need I'll warrant you.  Au. 
Indeed and I have need to use my Rhetoric; please you to help me but to speech of your Lady.  Alt. 
Marry come up here, no wonder indeed you're grown so dainty! will no body but my Lady serve your turn? am not I good enough for you I pray? she's for your Master, would you should well know.  Au. 
And 'tis from him I desire to speak with her who recommends him to you by this jewel.  Al. 
A noble Prince he is, I'll say that for him, and bounteous and liberal withal, you've few such Princes now adays: he was in a great fright (so were we all) when he was last with my Lady.— Well, did my Lord but know how I labour for him.—  Clea. 
He knows it, and thou shalt know he does too. Aside.  Au. 
Well hark then!  Clea. 
Hell and confusion! d'ye hear how she's been visited? I'm just like a mariner newly escaped one storm, and even arrived unto the port, when by another, he's driven to sea again, in greater danger than ever he was before: the Prince visit her, and handsome boys? to be rid of my jealousy, O th'Duke is nothing; for what avails it one h'as many thorns prick him, for easing of his pain to have one plucked out, and all the rest remain.— I'm as jealous as ere I was before. Exit.  Al. 
Well, though my Lady be in ill humour now, and very staunch of her visits (as they say) for the Prince's sake yet, I'll try what I can do; and for yourself, though I've partly made a vow never to marry, I know not yet how I should be tempted, should you offer to marry me.  Au. 
But I'll never tempt you I'll promise you. yet for my Lord's sake I must humour her; Aside. and dear Althaea, for my part I promise you, if ever I marry any woman it shall be you.  Alt. 
That's some comfort yet, I'd fain have somewhat in hand though, to be doing with; but come I'll bring you to my Lady.   

SCENA, 6.  The Duchess Cleora, Althaea after. Duc. 
And are you sure he went to Erminia's?  Cle. 
Sure Madam 'twas so appointed, and Althaea was to have the introducing him.  Duc. 
Did I not tell you he had some secret haunt? I knew it I, there's no deceiving me.— See this dissembling boy, you shall sooner find Spring without flowers, and Autumn without fruit, then without loving thoughts, a youthful mind, 'tis the proper fruit, and flowers of the season.  Enter Althaea. Al. 
So I have brought him to my Lady, who was nothing nigh so much offended and surprised with it as I imagined.— Who's here the Duchess?  Duc. 
And Althaea too must be their Bawd! that old Hag, that Witch, go seek her out, and bring her hither straight; if she conceal their secret meetings, tortures shall enforce it from her.  Alt. 
Ha! she has heard it seems of the Duke's visiting my Lady, I'd best confess it e'er she put me to the torture; I'm melancholy enough to lie in bed alone, and apprehend this lying on the rack a far more melancholy business; besides I know not how my bones will hold out, beshrew me.  Cleo. 
She's here Madam.  Al. 
Indeed I must confess, speak this trembling. an't like your Highness he visits my Lady sometimes.  Duc. 
Oh does he so!  Alt. 
But I can't help it, there's no keeping him out.  Duc. 
Is he so hot upon it?  Alt. 
But this I can assure your Highness, 'tis much against my will and against my Ladies too.  Duc. 
Worse and worser, I cod pardon him to prefer her love to mine; but to prefer even her neglect unto my love, is such an indignity, such a neglect of me I never shall forgive.   

SCENA, 7.  The Duke Antenor, Duchess, etc. Duke. 
Gone after him d'ye say?  Ant. 
I can assure your Highness,  Duke. 
Why this is fine, very fine,— but see she's here.  Duc. 
I'm glad I've found his haunts yet, now I see he goes to Erminia's still, when he makes such haste from me.  Duke. 
How comes she to know that? I'd best make no secret then of what she knows already, lest she suspect some farther secret in't, more than she knows.— Well, what if I visit Erminia sometimes? 'tis but to comfort her in her solitude and sadness in her husband's absence.  Duc. 
Ha! this is a discovery I looked not for;— Aside. 'tis well my Lord you're very charitable to other men's wives in their absence, & give me example what to do when you are absent with other womens' husbands too; and is this your going a hunting? I'm glad I faith I know what Game it is you chase. Exit.  Duke. 
What have I done? betrayed myself? this is this foolish conscience makes us do such poor ignoble things, a noble spirit would be ashamed of; she's gone enraged, and rage that in petty bosoms, as winds in narrow brooks, makes small commotion; in mighty ones raises as fearful storms, as boisterous winds in the vast Ocean: no matter, let her go, if Erminia's name can raise a tempest, I have an exorcism of Aurindoes can allay it again; nor will I desist— the bold and resolute, when checked and reprehended for their faults, grow more licentious, and devoid of shame, only the weak and timorous refrain. Exit. manner Althaea.  Al. 
I'm glad she's gone, and I safe here, I was in a terrible fright;— for her calling me Bawd it never angered me, it's no disgrace to a waiting woman; but to call me old Hag!—   

SCENA, 8.  Erminia, Aurindo, Althaea, Cleander, Amynter. Er. 
Prithee good boy no more, pity so much handsomeness, should be so unhandsomely employed; and so much good language and eloquence cast away upon so bad a cause; find out somewhat wherein I may do thee good, and I shall gladly do it; but I should do thee harm, to make thee complice of another's ill.  Au. 
She instructs me excellently, & her kindness invites me to discover myself unto her; & somewhat here bids me accept the invitation: who knows? she may be so nobly generous to help me in my love, hinder me I'm sure she cannot. I'll try, 'tis but my blushes lost, and in a better cause I cannot lose my shame.— Noblest of Ladies, whilst I discover t'ye a secret you'll sooner wonder at, then believe, to take from your wonder, and add to your belief, be pleased to behold this Portrait here. Gives her her Portrait.  Er. 
What's this?  Clea. 
How! taking presents? nay then sh'as sold herself, and is no longer mine; and whispering! womens' shames go always with their whispers: how close they are, as he were pouring out himself into her ear, as she inclines her ear, as she were careful nothing should be lost:— now h'as told her somewhat that tickles her;— now she looks on's present, now on him again, as she were begetting babies in his eyes, Preludiums, and images in little of procreation. 'Tis good, 'tis very good, I see you, but you see not the revenge I'll take for it.  Er. 
Is't possible! comparing what I hear, with what I see, I can no ways doubt the truth of what you say; I've seen your Portrait formerly, and wonder, comparing it with you now, I knew you not before.  Au. 
You see Madam how your sweet goodness has emboldened me to the discovery of a secret to you I should have concealed even from mine own bosom, if it had been possible.  Er. 
And I shall keep it as safe as your own bosom, sweet Cyrena assure yourself.  Cle. 
See, she even embraces him by heaven!  Au. 
Beseech you Madam call me Aurindo still, and show some kindness to the Prince, when next he visits you; lest he suspect I have neglected his commands, and had more care of mine own concern, than his.  Er. 
For your sake I'll do any thing, I may in honour do; and I hope sweet friend e'er long to let you see you not deceived yourself, in trusting me.  Au. 
Dearest Madam, my ravishment is so great, my joy must needs burst forth in some expression, or I shall burst myself: here then before I go I make a solemn league of friendship with ye, and seal it with my breast.  They embrace, and depart severally.  

SCENA, 9  The Duchess enters, and sees them embracing. Cleander Amynter. Cl. 
By heaven I'll kill them both. offers to draw.  Am. 
Fie fie, be more advised and temperate. Closes with him, and leads him out.  Duc. 
Unparallelled impudence! embrace in public! the very action of coupling! no strumpet lost to shame and abandoned to infamy, would e'er have done't: I burn no less with rage and jealousy, than they with lust; and the fire of my love is quite extinguished by't, as greater fires extinguish lesser ones. I'll be revenged on both, for her I now do loath her worse than a Toad or Snake; and for him, ungrateful as he is, I'll let him see since he would not have me for a friend, what 'tis to have me for an enemy.  
Finis Actus tertii.    

ACTUS, 4.  

SCENA, 1.  The Prince, Aurindo; several ways. Prince. 
AUrindo welcome, I have awaited thee just as the trembling prisoner at the bar suspended 'twixt hope and fear, awaits his doom, and what is't ha'? dost bring me life or death?  Au. 
Life, life, assure yourself my Lord, or else I should not live to tell it you; had rather die myself a hundred times than bring you death.  Pri. 
Thanks gentle Aurindo. I know thou lovest me.  Au. 
You know nothing yet compared to what I hope you'll know e'er long.  Prin. 
Well haste ' been there?  Au. 
I have my Lord.  Pri. 
And how didst find her, ha?  Au. 
Beyond expectation kind, she harkened to me, and that is half consent, and th'other half you're to expect e'er long: well I say nothing but there are those in Missena here, who love you, dearly love you; I can tell you that my Lord, though I am sworn yet not to tell their names.  Pr. 
Come prithee tell me.  Au. 
Let it suffice 'tis one you'd least imagine, one you'll shortly know, and I hope be happy in her knowledge too.  Pr. 
Enough, enough, I know than it is she, for there's none else in nature can make me happy, but Erminia. O my dear Aurindo how thou obligest me, with thy joyful news!  Au. 
Happy conjuncture! Embraces him. blessed moment! that it would always last, or that the heart did but go now with th' hands that thus embrace me. Aside.  Pr. 
Never was Prince more happy in a Page, than I in thee.  Au. 
I hope your Highness e'er long will find it so indeed.  Pr. 
More, more I prithee, more of Erminia.  Au. 
See here comes company.  Pri. 
Let's withdraw then to my apartment, and there I'll take th' Ambrosrek food into mine ear.   

SCENA, 2.  Cleora, Olinda. Cleo. 
Tell me Olinda, wert thou ever in love.  Olin. 
Yes faith a little once for fashion sake, as much as came to jest, and methought 'twas pretty sport; but never in earnest I, to make me whine and cry, leave my meat, break my sleep, and be melancholy and mad as my Lady is.  Cle. 
Thou wert the wiser; for love indeed is but a sort of madness: and as you have several sorts of mad folks, so you have of Lovers; some sad, some merry, some mild and gentle, some raving and furious again; and for these, the Pazzorello was well invented, whither shortly my Lady must be sent I think; for she's mad, outrageous mad against Aurindo, and has accused him to the Duke, for offering to ravish us.  Ol. 
I would he had faith.  Cle. 
And see she comes, and the Duke with her.   

SCENA, 3.  The Duke, Duchess, Leontius, Antenor, etc. Duc. 
Beseech you my Lord, banish him the Court.  Duke. 
Well we shall think upon't.  Duke. 
It is a shame to suffer him here, is not content to deboish himself, but seeks to deboish the Prince too.  Duk. 
Well, well.  Duc. 
Nay what's more, h'as not only attempted the honour of my women here, but even attempts the honour of Erminia too.  Duk. 
Ha! does he so? nay then we will not only banish him the Court, but City and Country too; let it be straight proclaimed.  Ant. 
D'ye mark how that heats him, he was cold before?  Leo. 
I do.  Duc. 
I will not tell you how insolent he was to tempt even me myself, not to expose his life to danger, and my honour too; that he should dare to do it, and hope to live.  Leo. 
His life thirsted after too, nay then I see nothing's more insatiate than women in their love, or in their hate.  Duk. 
Though for's insolency I confess he deserves to die, yet in regard of's tender years so thou my dearest be'st content, I am content to spare his life.  Duc. 
Our sex is soft and gentle, as it becomes us to be merciful; but think my Lord whe'red becomes you or no, an't mayn't appear in you, too great neglect both of my honour and your own.  Leo. 
Then I see no Tigress, nor Lioness, nor Aspic trod on, is more fell and cruel, then cruel women.  Duk. 
Content thyself dearest with his banishment, we would not kill, where we might safely spare.  Duc. 
Mistaken clemency! misplaced goodness! who spare the guilty are cruel to th' innocent; best tarry till h'ave left nothing in the Court inviolate, even to the Royal bed; nay till his lust like a violent spreading torrent overflows and involves Erminia ' honour too, gaining her the dishonourable repute of a foul Strumpet, and base Prostitute.  Ant. 
That's a killing blow put home, guard thee well Aurindo, or thouart but dead.  Duk. 
Oh, how I love this zeal of justice in you, and you, for it? you have prevailed it is resolved he die: let him be apprehended straight.  Le. 
This must be prevented. Exit hastily.  Duke. 
Now my dearest art thou satisfied? If thou be'st, appease thy anger, serenate thy mind, and in thy cabinet expect thine own desires and wishes always to attend thee.— Leads her to the door. Now to the rest of our affairs, where's that shipwrecked soldier lately returned from Attica, call him to us straight, we'll take the scruple of marriage out of Erminia's breast, that we're resolved come what will of the rest.   

SCENA, 4.  Leontius, Aurindo. Leo. 
Fly, sly Madam, all the Court is up in search of you, and busy danger threatens and surrounds you on every side, just like the hunted Dear when th' hounds are uncoupled, & the hunt is up: for heavens Love haste, I've told you what you stand accused of.  Au. 
And if I would compound with danger, I easily cod clear my innocence, but I'll keep that now for my last reserve; mean time I'll to Erminia's, and shelter there, to whom can I better owe my life then her; to whom I hope shortly to owe all my joy of living?  Leo. 
Quickly, quickly then, and as secretly as you can.   

SCENA, 5.  Clinias, Cleobulo. Cle. 
Well Clinias, and how d'ye like the Moor our fellow servant?  Cli. 
Why, as thou wouldst ha' rusty jade, would not stir a foot for thee; and when thou spur'st him, and puts him to't, capers, rears an end, throws thee, and breaks thy neck. ud's so, we were deceived in him; we thought to put all the work of the house on him, and we may do't ourselves for aught I see, and thank you too. You may command a post as well as him, and he's so sturdy too, a post will stir as soon as he.  Cle. 
He does not understand you perhaps.  Cli. 
I know not, but I'm sure I understand him but too well: I gave him a broom to day, and pointed him where he should sweep, (this now was plain enough one would imagine) and what did he, but 'stead of sweeping, lay me over the pate with it, and so he served me with a fire shovel another time; he'll carry no coals I can tell you.  Cle. 
Will he not? But I'll make him, and he'd as good eat them too as refuse to do what I command him; such as he like Nettles, handle them gently, and they sting you; but you shall see how I'll handle him, like a good Water Spaniel I'll make him obey my beck, & fetch & carry when I'd have him, & make him do tricks like an Ape ere I have done with him: & see here he comes, like your baboons & drills, he won't speak, because he will not work: but 't shall not serve his turn.— mark.   

SCENA. 6.  Cleander, Clinias, Cleobulo, Amynter to them. Cli. 
D'ye mark? there's all I can get of him; He points Cleander one way, & he points him the other. you may command, and do it yourself for him.  Cleo. 
But I'll make him do it, if he will not.— How now Sirrah?— O Clinias Clinias, Takes him by the shoulder, and Clean▪ takes him by the throat. help me: plague on him he gripped me worse than a Hawk does his Quarry, and I'd as lief fall into a Lion's claws as his.  Cli. 
What think you now? like a good Water Spaniel he obeys your beck, and does tricks like an Ape for you, 'tis only you know how to handle him now.—  Cle. 
The Devil shall Enter Amynter. handle him for me if he be such an one.  Am. 
How now, what's here to do?  Cli. 
Nothing, nothing my Lord.  Am. 
You have been vexing the Moor I see by him.  Cleo. 
No indeed forsooth, h'as rather been vexing us.  Am. 
Go too, leave him, & about your business, or your Lady knows of it. Exeunt Clin. & Cle. Now friend, how goes affairs?  Clea. 
Oh worse and worse!  Am. 
I hope you have discovered no other haunts?  Clea. 
No no, and of the Dukes I am secured too; but the Prince's, the Prince's still depends, and that boy, that villain boy!— Oh friend! the chafed sea baited by all the winds, till it be all a tempest and a foam, was never in more trouble and agitation, then is my breast; and that may return to its former calm again, but never I unto my former rest.  Am. 
What will you do then?  Clea. 
Nay if I knew that, my mind would be at ease, but this is your fault now, put me off the resolution of killing them, who now am just like one has so long differed cure of a desperate ill, till the danger grows greater, and cure more desperate.   

SCENA, 7.  Erminia, Aurindo, Cleander, Amynter. Er. 
Fear not Aurindo, here you are more safe, then in your innocence, for that I see may be violated, but my cabinet shall never be I hope; there you may securely rest yourself, till the danger's o'er; and whilst you rest you there, all my business shall be to think, how to remedy your Love as well as fear.  Aur. 
Blessings, such as Saints, in their ecstasies do wish, and pray for, (Madam) reward you for your excellent goodness.  Er. 
" Good deeds besides themselves need no reward." I will not trust my woman, but for your more security will lock you up myself.  Aur. 
You are my Angel-guardian, & as I fear no danger so long as I am here, so I hope all good from your protection.  Clea. 
So there's provision of lust now stored up for night; but I may chance mar their banquet.—   

SCENA, 8.  The Duke, Dimagoras, Erminia, Cleander, Amynter. Duk. 
There, there she is, do as I've commanded you, and expect our favour and reward: I must not be seen in it. Exit.  Er. 
Who's this, does any know?  Dim. 
Pardon Madam my bold intrusion, I'm a soldier lately returned from Attica; have had the honour long to serve i'th' wars under Cleander, our noble General.  Er. 
Do you know him Amynter?  Am. 
I have often seen him i'th' Army Madam.  Er. 
Then you're welcome Sir, you can tell me news of my Lord perhaps.  Dim. 
Alas Madam 'twill be but unwelcome news that I can tell you.—  Er. 
O my divining soul! what is't?  Dim. 
I cod wish I had a tongue in thousand infoldments of sugared speech cod wrap up my bitter news;— or whilst I wounded you with grief of it, with oily words cod cure the wounds I made; or rather indeed I had no tongue at all to tell you Cleander's dead.  Er. 
Dead!  Dim. 
Drowned in his return from Attica.  Clea. 
How's this? this is pretty!  Er. 
Cleander drowned! my Lord and husband drowned! tell me, Oh tell me quickly how! and let thy fatal tongue finish the deadly work it has begun, and kill me quite.  Dim. 
The treacherous winds with flattering gales enticed him first from shore into the midst of the vast Egean Sea, ere they declared their treacherous intents of drowning him; when first in soft whispers, then loud murmurs, they conspired to raise a furious storm: the abyss, the seas and skies, all mixed in one dismal Chaos, and horrid confusion, surrounded with all these horrors, the fear of death, far worse than death itself; only Cleander fearlessly did stand, beholding death with the same countenance at sea, he was wont to behold it on the land; till long struggling against the storm in vain, at last loudly invoking Erminia's name, he and the Bark perished together: would I had done so too, rather than to have been preserved alone, whilst all else perished, to bring this news I do.  Er. 
Ay me! then I have lived too long. 'sounds  Am. 
Help, help.  Clea. 
Ha, ha, ha, leave her, and she'll soon leave her swooning, no woman e'er swooned when she was alone.  Exit. Am. 
Why Madam, Madam, what mean you? to die for a false report: Cleander lives, upon my life he does.  Er. 
ay, in the other world, whither I'll soon follow him.  Am. 
Nay in this; and if I show you him not here alive before next sun, let my life and honour or whatsoever else I hold most dear pay for my abusing you.  Dim. 
Would I had had no tongue rather then t'have been author of this false report  Er. 
Don't you delude my grief now, and flatter me into hope?  Am. 
As I hope for life myself, I tell you true. and this soldier shall confess as much.— I had some glimmering of the Duke, and suspect his hand in this.— Hark ye Dimagoras, (for so as I remember you are called) I know this news is false, and straightways cod disprove it if I would; I know too you were hired to't by the Duke, confess the truth, do like those better witches, who undo the harms th'ave done; you see her life's in danger, which you by timely discovery may save, and gain far more reward for't, than you have.  Dim. 
But should the Duke know it.—  Am. 
Which he shall never do.  Dim, 
Besides mine honour.—  Am. 
The very thought of that should prompt you to it.  Dim. 
Then with your pardon Madam, I confess Cleander lives, & I was hired by the Duke to report him dead, I know not for what intent.  Er. 
Neither becomes it you to examine it, only know it becomes a Soldier to do nothing dishonourably, and nothing can be more, then basely lie; but you have well repented, and there's for your confession of the truth, so honour ever guide you.  Dim. 
As it shall to speak all honour of you. Exit.  Al. 
Oh me! my Lord, my Lord, Enter Althaea. what shall I do? what shall I do?  Am. 
Why, prithee hold thy peace, and leave thy howling and caterwauling, thou criest only for fashion sake now I know, & would thou hadst but a glass to see how ill it becomes thee.  Alt. 
Would you should well know, I can cry as well as e'er a woman in Missena, so I can.  Am. 
Thou must hold thy water well beforehand then, but prithee don't change thy crying into scolding now.  Alt. 
Scold, who scolds? I scorn it so I do.  Am. 
Wilt thou hold thy peace then?  Alt. 
Why mayn't one speak I pray?  Am. 
Again? twenty Pies and Jays taken in lime-twigs, keep not such a noise and chattering, as one woman when she sets upon it once.  Er. 
The Duke put such tricks on me! I'm glad I know it yet.  Am. 
And see he's here Madam.  Er. 
I am prepared for him.   

SCENA, 9  The Duke, Erminia, Amynter, Althaea, etc. Duk. 
So now this punctilio of marriage ta'en away, I hope to find her no more so scrupulous.— Aside. Understanding of your misfortune Madam, and the general misfortne of us all, I'm come to comfort you for Cleander's loss, and to assure you, you shall find in me all you have lost in him; I'll be in place of husband to you.—  Am. 
I believe you would. Aside.  Duke. 
Cease mourning then, and reckon your loss among those remediless misfortunes can never be remedied with mourning.  Er. 
Your Highness highly honours me; but comfort (my Lord) 's a work of time: first we must grieve, ere we be comforted; there are certain decencies of widowhood, which for widows to neglect, is to neglect their fame: many a shower of tears must fall first, and many a gust of sighs blow over, ere it clear up again. In fine, comfort's the physic of grief and sorrow, and no feverish body in Crisis of their Fever takes physic: that once over, all the comfort becomes or me to take, or you to give, I willingly shall admit; mean time I leave you, and humbly beseech your Highness to leave me to my grief.  Duk. 
Peace to your thoughts Erminia, nor shall I ever take that peace away by any act of mine; so recommending to you a moderation of your grief and sorrow, I take my leave,— this is some comfort yet. Exit.  Er. 
He's gone, and I but dally with my grief, fancying Cleander not dead, whilst no other difference is 'twixt death and absence, but only this; t'one's a short death, t'other a long absence; so he whilst absent for the time is dead to me; and absence for the time zanies death, and imitates it so, t'one can do nothing that t'other does not do.   

SCENA, 10.  The Prince, Cleander following him, Erminia, Amynter. Er. 
The Prince here too? deluded by this news, he comes I know, only to bring me fresh molestation; and to serve Cyrena's end, I'll let him go on in the delusion.  Am. 
Here comes Cleander too, he knows not she knows he is alive, and I'll leave him in his ignorance, & so perplex him, & strew his way with thorns; I'll make him weary of it, and glad at last, when he can't go forwards to return back again.  Pri. 
Dearest Madam, if at such a time, when other widow's griefs are at the height, I come to persuade you, let yours fall, and take comfort i'th' place on't: I hope you'll pardon me, when you shall see, I bring you a full comfort, not an empty one of words only, whilst in lieu of your dead husband, I come to offer you a living one; and such an one, 'tmay be no boast to say, (add but your esteem to't) does every way equal Cleander. I mean myself.  Er. 
This falls out happily to my desire;— Aside. my Lord, although you might justly wonder I should so soon be comforted, and so far forget my first Lord, to accept a second; whilst other widow; strictness is so great, first days of their widowhood, they scarce admit so much as the light itself to comfort them, (the general comforter of all the world) yet coming in so honourable a way as marriage, I know not what to say; but were I assured your Highness' intents were but as honourable and real.—  Pri. 
The words and actions of dying men are not more real I swear.  Er. 
There are those who love you, dearly love you (I can tell you that) though their shames won't suffer them to declare so much.  Pr. 
And why so?  Er. 
To hide their shames then, come but i'th' dark to night unto my chamber.—  Pr. 
Enough.  Er. 
And there after the holy vows of marriage.—  Pri. 
I understand.  Er. 
You shall enjoy her for your wife.—  Pr. 
Oh me most happy! you overjoy me Madam.  Er. 
Go then, and do not fail.  Pr. 
Which if I do, may I fail to live. Exit.  Er. 
Now for Cyrena, she shall change habits, and veiled appear like me: pardon me sacred truth, if in so good a cause I transgress a little, 'tis not to violate thy laws, but preserve them from greater violation. Exit.  Cle. 
Why, she's married already.  Am. 
Can you blame her? believing you dead, and you letting her go on in the belief.  Cle. 
No matter, let her go on her way, I'll go mine.—  Am. 
And lose yourself.  Cle. 
And trace her through all her ways.  Am. 
And err in all, don't you see; you are just like one, who entering a Labyrinth, farther he goes, the farther still he strays; or one puzzled with tying a Gordian knot, which he can ne'er untie.  Cle. 
How you're deceived! I do but as Hunters now, who following the Chase, mind not so much their way, nor pains they take, as taking of the prey; and for the Gordian knot you speak of, I know how to cut that which I can't untie.  Am. 
Had you not better discover yourself now, and do that with ease, you can't do else, without much toil and pain,  Cle. 
Have patience a little. there are farther mysteries yet I must reveal, ere I reveal myself, especially that of the boy's concealment.  Am. 
Of that I'll say nothing, 'cause I know not what to say; but for the rest I dare engage my life, and should die martyr in so good a cause; she is all honourable, and honour & she are twins, and so alike 'twere no mistake to say, Erminia is honour, and honour Erminia.  Am. 
Well, to night we shall know all, mean time leaving you in your belief, leave me in mine. Exeunt several ways.  
Finis Actus quarti.    

ACTUS, 5.  

SCENA, I.  Clinias, Cleobulo. Clin. 
WHy, this Moor's a devil, and now I know the reason why they paint the devil black of his colour; he makes no more of beating us, than Squirrels do of cracking nuts; 'tis his ordinary exercise before meals to get him an appetite, and afterwards to help digestion: we are never quiet for him, but when we sleep, and shortly I fear he'll fall upon us like a night mare in our sleeps too.  Cle. 
I'd compound with him for a limb with all my heart, and let him choose any he pleased except my neck.  Cli. 
Would I were certain to escape with that, but you are well enough served now, why would you offer to beat him?  Cleo. 
Why, because I thought he would not beat me again, else I'd have seen him hanged e'er I'd have meddled with him: well, we must hold together, there is no remedy, he's too hard for either of us alone; but Hercules himself (they say) is not strong enough for two.  Cli. 
ay, but if he should prove stronger than Hercules, what then? that old saying would do us but little ' light here he comes, I'm as feared of him (good:— as of a bear broke loose, and running after me, and look every moment when he'll catch me by the breech.   

SCENA, 2.  Cleander, Clinias, Clebulo. 
See see, he becons us away.  Cleo. 
But let's not stir for him;— yes I'll warrant you, when can you tell?  Cli. 
Look again.  Cleo. 
No matter, let us but hold together.  Cli. 
He comes upon us fearfully, look h'as got a staff too; now for a dry beating, I'm as sure of it.—  Cl.. 
I'll warrant you, oh oh! He yokes his staff 'cross theirs necks, & whirls them round.  Cli. 
Oh, oh, a my conscience h'as broke my neck.  Cleo. 
I think mine's broke too, and pray heaven it be no worse.  Cli. 
A vengeance on him, are these his tricks? he'll make more work for Surgeons if he hold on, than Brandee wine with Dutchmen in their Kirmesses; or Stum in Taverns with quarrelsome Englishmen, he made me spin like a top.  Cleo. 
And I imagined myself a hand-mill grinding mustard seed.  Cli. 
If he cod speak yet, and give us but a reason for his misusing us, 'twod never anger me.  Cle. 
For my part I'm glad he's dumb, for if he cod speak, I'm sure 'twould be but a word and a blow with him.  Cli. 
Away, here comes my Lady.   

SCENA, 3.  Erminia, Cleander, Althaea following. Er. 
The time draws nigh, and night approaches, I'll go unto the Princess, and see if she be dressed yet, I joy to think how happy I should be to advance her happiness;  
" and there's a secret pleasure in doing good,  
" by none but those who do it, understood.  Exit. Clea. 
She's gone unto the boy, and I unknown to Amynter will follow her, and kill them both together; he's of too mild and too relenting nature for me and my stern purposes; and what w'ar once resolved to do, wise politics count it but little wit, to confer with those may hinderth ' doing it.  Exit. Alt. 
So, this 'tis to be out of favour, I'm excluded now; and if I prove unfaithful, she has absolved my faith: nor can she complain seeing she trusts me not, that I betray her trust: all rivals jealousies help to revenge me on her, and add to those mine own revenge to boot, for threatening to turn me out of service, I'll serve her for't as she deserves, & tell the Duchess of Aurindo's concealment here, & of the Prince's marriage with her too, whilst he researcht her only by my means, and by gifts and presents sought my mediation, I loved him for it, but hate him now he seeks to marry her; my profit lost by't: & women of my quality, if they be wise, should count those only friends, who bring them gain, and when the gain ceases, count them enemies.  Exit  

SCENA, 4.  Erminia, Cyrena in Woman's Attire. Er. 
So now y'appear like yourself the bright Cyrena unclouded in all your glories, so appears the sun so glorious and so bright after a long Eclipse.  Cyr. 
Nay now you flatter me.  Er. 
I would to heaven men would believe so, 'twod acquit our sex of envy, and I should easily be acquit of flattery, for none can doubt but they must be rather envious who praise you not, than flatterers who do.  Cy. 
Nay if you hold on, you'll give me a beauty I had not, and make me blush.  Er. 
I ought rather to blush, you have so little help, but 'twas your desire for greater secrecy, and secrets lose their virtue, just like precious perfumes when once disclosed, & more theyare hid the more they conserve their pretiousness. Pray let me help you, this curse's a little too long.  Cy. 
Pardon me Madam.  Er. 
Beseech you 'tis but my duty, you are not used to these petty things, and 'tis so long since you saw yourself dressed, you and your mirror Speaks all this in dressing her. well may be to seek.  Cy. 
How much am obliged unto you dear Erminia?  Er. 
Dearest Madam, think I was only born to serve you; where was the Prince's judgement (I wonder) where were his eyes? having seen this beauty once, he cod ever look on any other?  Cy. 
He might be well excused, having seen yours once, to have quite forgotten mine.  Er. 
Mine! alas 'tis never to be seen on the same day with yours, nor ever so much as to be mentioned with it; nor do I say this out of compliment now, but merely out of consciousness of mine own defects. Stay a little more, and I have done.  Cy. 
Sweet Erminia, you make me even bankrupt with your courtesies.  Er. 
Sweetest Madam, I shall think you tax me with want of it, if you speak any more of it.   

SCENA, 6.  Cleander rushes in, Erminia, Cyrena. Er. 
What rudeness is this?  Cle. 
Now for my revenge,— ha! what's here? the boy vanished! and a woman in the place! what strange apparitions are these? what wondrous delusions of the sight? there's witchcraft in it sure! Stares wildly about, & exit. I can't believe mine eyes.  Er. 
what means this Moor, he's grown strangely jealous of me of late, (whatsoere's the matter) and I begin to fear him.  Cy. 
I was afeard he'd come to apprehend me.  Er. 
Pardon me Madam, I'm ashamed you should find such rudeness here, but trust to't, you shall be put no more to these affrights.— Come pray be merry, if the Prince should chance to sleep in your arms to night instead of mine, I hope your Highness would not be offended at the mistake.  Cy. 
Imagine sweet Erminia by yourself, whether you'd be offended Cleander should do the like by you.  Er. 
I fear my happiness is not yet so nigh, though I wish yours may, so now all here's prepared, I'll go and put all in prepare without for the Prince's reception, & leave you the while to the entertainment of your better thoughts. Exit.  Cy. 
As those who walk over fearful precipices avert their eyes not to behold their danger, so I avert my thoughts from thinking on mine, only this I find too clear." love's a solicitous thing, and full of fear. Exit.   

SCENA, 6.  The Duchess, Althaea, Cleora. Duc. 
Thanks Althaea for thy intelligence, and the Duke shall thank thee too, go thou before, and wait to give us entrance, I'll but go advertise the Duke, and instantly follow thee.  Al. 
I shall Madam. Exit.  Duc. 
They shall not steal a marriage in the dark, I'll light their nuptial Tapers up, and for Aurindo I'm glad I've found him; I 〈◊〉 feared he'd fled my anger, and escaped my revenge, which now he shall find after this little stop, like violent torrents stopped, which grow but more violent after, than e'er they were before. Exit.  Cleo. 
She's gone enraged, and nothing's more impetuous than woman's rage, no battering Ram demolishingston walls to dust, nor violent thunder riving whole forests, and shivering mighty oaks like slender reeds; woe to poor Aurindo must stand the shock of it,— wood I'd some body to tell this news to now; no colic, no strangury, nor pangs of childbirth were e'er half so painful, as the retention of news, to a woman that longs to be delivered of it; and here comes some body.   

SCENA, 7.  Olindae, Cleora, Antenor, Leontius following. Cle. 
O Olindo! hast ' heard the news of Aurindo?  Ol. 
No, what is't?  Cle. 
He's at Erminia's, and just now there's order given to apprehend him.  Ol. 
Alas!  Cle. 
But you must say nothing now.  Ol. 
Pho, no avaricious body holds money faster than I do secrets you know. O Antenor have you heard the news of Aurindo? Enter Antenor.  Ant. 
No, pray what?  Ol. 
Why he's apprehended at Erm●●●'s, and presently to die; the Scaffold's already set up for him, but you must say nothing.  Aut. 
That's understood, now am I bound to tell it the next I meet.  Cle. 
You keep secrets sweetly, I'll tell you news another time; and you make it more than it is too.  Ol. 
How would you have newsmongers live else?  Ant. 
O Leontius! have you heard the news of Aurindo? Enter Leontius.  Le. 
For heaven's love, what?  Cle. 
I'll tell it.  Ol. 
No let me. They strive.  Ant. 
Will you over run me? why he's apprehended at Erminia's, and instantly to die; he's on the scaffold by this.  Cle. 
See if he have not added more unto it yet?  Le. 
Nay then, 'tis time to discover him, be th' danger what it will, I'm sure there can be no more, than there is in the concealing him.  Cle. 
Stay, stay, and take the news of the Prince along with you.  Leo. 
I thank you, I have no leisure to hear it now.  Cleo. 
I'll tell it you then.  An. 
Pardon me, I must be gone too. Exit.  Ol. 
And I'll to the Presence with my news. Exit.  Cle. 
She gone too! now am I in no less pain than I was before for some body to tell the rest of my news to; thus does she serve me still when I trust her with any, all women are leaking vessels, and can hold nothing, God help them. But of all commend me to her. Exit.   

SCENA 8.  Erminia, Althaea, the Prince following. Er. 
Althaea stay you here, and when the Prince comes, direct him into my Cabinet, but without light be sure; I'll in and see all the lights extinguished there. Exit.  Alt. 
ay, hide you, do, cast clouds of night upon your faults, and you fast as you hide them, I'll bring them unto light; and what you seek to keep secret I'll proclaim, till to all the world I've published your shame.—  Enter Prince. 
Oh my Lord, you're welcome, my Lady expects you there within, you need no light, love can find the way best in the dark.  Pr. 
With thy good directions Althaea, there's somewhat for thy pains.  Alt. 
And there's her Cabinet.  Pr. 
Now to reap the long expected fruit of all my happiness. Exit.  Alt. 
Send you a good harvest of it, I'll send you sickles enough presently to help you, and those will help too, to fetch it in for you.— Aurindo! and the Prince too! she might have left me one of them at least, but I'll fit her for it.   

SCENA, 9  Cleander, Amynter following. Clea. 
Would I'd never embarked myself upon this perilous sea, where 'tis dishonour to go back, and assured ruin to go on; to discover me now, every one would laugh at me; and to conceal me longer, I should run such desperate hazard, 'tis horror to think upon— To marry so soon a second husband, ere the funeral rites and obsequies of the first are celebrate, no blacks, no mourning, my memory like a shadow gone with myself; her grief for me not half so durable as other widow's watery coloured ones, which only a tear or two can wash away; is this her love of me? then farewell all my love of her; 'tis sign the Prince and she have lived before in close adultery, and will do so again unless she die; nor less he'd known it formerly, cod he find the way now so readily to her bed; since I am dead to her then, she shall be so to me; and the hour of her marriage shall be her hour of death; these hands shall kill her, these eyes shall see her dead, though this heart of mine burst at the sight of it, mine honour's engaged, & I'm resolved. Exiturus.  Am. 
Now friend, Enter Amynter. whither away so fast?  Cle. 
Pardon me, I have no leisure to tell you now. Exit.  Am. 
There is some mystery in this haste of his, and's great thoughts labour with some mighty birth.— On what a turbulent sea has his jealousy embarked him? and so embroiled him as without miracle he can never disimbroil himself again; and if this be the fate of marriage to be in hell, of loathing, if their wives be foul; and if fair, in purgatory of jealousy; marry who's list for me.   

SCENA, 10.  The Duchess, Duke, Althaea, Amynter, etc. Duc. 
Where's this great Commandress of all hearts? commands as absolutely as fate itself; this tyrant beauty, that needs only say, render your hearts, and all hearts must obey, I long to see her, let some seek out the boy, I'll seek out her myself. Enter Duke.  Duk. 
Where's this curious Lady? in whose nice bosom no flowers must be worn, but fresh and blooming buds; others as overblown and canker-eaten, she rejects and scorns.  Duc. 
Where is her chamber?  Alt. 
There.  Duc. 
What, hoa within there? open the door, or else we'll break it op'. knocks.  Duk. 
Where is this newly married pair? let them appear, we come to wish them joy.   

SCENA, 11.  The Prince, Cyrena veiled, Cleander the other way. Pr. 
Who's that that knocks so rudely? ha! the Duke and Duchess; no matter, fear not, fear not my Erminia, for now thouart mine.  Duc. 
Shame of thy honour, a Prince, and own a base ignoble strumpet for thy wife!  Clea. 
Now now,— how's this?  Cy. 
I am nor base, nor strumpet, Draws to kill them when she unveils. but as great a Princess as yourself, Princess of Argos. Enter Leontius.  Pr. 
Ha! Cyrena!  Duc. 
And Aurindo she! how was I deceived?  Leo. 
The Princess already discovered!  Clea. 
Now all of the boy is clear, but that the news of my death should strike her no more.—  Am. 
Thunder cod not have more struck her you saw, till I assured her 'twas false, and only invented to deceive her, when she to assist the Princess in her love turned the deceit on them.  Clea. 
Enough, enough, ' now all have cast off their visards, 'tis time to cast off mine, I'll instantly go and discover myself unto her. Exit.  Alt. 
Whither goes the Moor in such haste I wonder? I'll after him and see. Exit.  Pr. 
Wonder and amazement seizes me!  Cy. 
Wonder not Prince, nor admire your Page should turn your handmaid now, this is the least miracle that love can do; I am that Cyrena you promised marriage to at Argos, who have hither to Misseva followed you to claim your promise which now you've anew confirmed.  Pr. 
Miracle of constancy! compared with your goodness, my ill appears so great, methinks no penance can be great enough for expiating it.  Cy. 
This shall be all your penance, and this.  Embraces him. Pr. 
And this is the only one that I desire.  Duc. 
Now Madam I hope you'll pardon me, for putting you to the proof and declaration of your sex, which I suspected through your disguise,  Cy. 
There needs no pardon Madam; where the offence was to Aurindo, not to me.  Enter Althaea. Duk. 
But where's Erminia all this while, the great Architectress of all this plot?  Alt. 
For her you shall find her there within, in the Moors arms straight embraced, (my Lord) and by this time perhaps in bed together too.  Duc. 
Was ever a more lascivious strumpet?  Duk. 
Where are our Guards? go fetch her hither straight with her fair Paramour; so foul an act as this deserves a public shame and punishment, however in private done.  Cy. 
Erminia thus dishonour herself! or honour with justice is fled to heaven, and there is none on earth, or else all this is false.   

SCENA, 12.  Cleander, Erminia guarded, Amynter, Climas', Cleobulo, etc. Duk. 
Bring them away, is this the honourable Lady, nothing cod dishonour her above temptation, above suspect?— no body to serve her lust but a Moor, a slave! & one fittest she thought to conceal her shame, 'cause mute and dumb! but here are enough beside to publish it; away with her, & to the gallows with that slave.  Cli. 
Cleo. ay, hang him, hang him.  Clea. 
Stay, rather than her fame shall suffer, the mute shall speak, & more to evince the miracle and declare her innocence, the Ethiope shall turn white.  Alt. 
Cleander! Discovers himself.  Cli. 
My Lord, there's none rejoices more than my fellow & I, for this your metamorphose, we had as lief see the devil, as see your black face.  Cleo. 
We had rather a great deal have you our master then our fellow servant, you don't beat us half so much.  Duk. 
Noble Cleander I must demand your pardon for trying Erminia's constancy in your absence, assure yourself 'twas done with good intent.  Cle. 
I shall believe it, and considering the prosperous estate I've left your affairs in, I hope your Highness will easily pardon my return from Attica without your licence.  Duk. 
I do, and with you all happiness with your fair and virtuous wife.  Pri. 
And I the like.  Cle. 
I humbly thank your Highness, and desire to be no longer happy than my friend Amynter may be so with me.  Er. 
For you Althaea (another time whented mayn't appear revenge as it would now) I shall entreat you seek another service.  Alt. 
With all my heart, & I hope your Highness then will entertain me.  Duc. 
Not I; you who would be false to her, will never be true to me.  Alt. 
Well, my comfort is, though there are no services, yet there are trades enough. Exit.  Clea. 
Oh my dear Erminia! here let me ever rest.  Er. 
And as I gladly receive you here as the long parched up earth does longed for showers of rain.  Cy. 
Think not Cleander so wholly to possess your Erminia, I shall always claim a friends part in her.  Cle. 
She is all yours Madam. Embraces her. as I also, in being wholly hers.  Duk. 
Here then ends our jealousy, since Erminia's virtue renders me (I'm sure) as free from suspect as Aurindo's sex does you; but why differ we longer to celebrate these happy Nuptials that unite our States, by th' Accession of Argos to Missena, and of all Greece now makes it the happiest Land.  Clea. 
Mean time my dear Erminia thy name shall be so celebrous in the mouth of Fame, that as often as 'twod praise any one; for Beauty and Virtue it shall only say, th' are like the fair and virtuous Erminia.    

The Epilogue.  
WE do confess your curiosities  
Have purified the Stage, that otherwise  
Had been all dross ere this; and nothing there  
That might delight a curious Eye or Ear.  
And weare so far from taking of it ill,  
We thank you for it, pray be curious still:  
So shall the Poet, and the Actors too,  
In time become as curious as you.  
For just as judges by their rigidness,  
Make men more careful, and offend the less:  
So do you, us, i'th' Boxes and the Pit,  
In whose verge chiefly it lies to judge of it.  
Do then by this Play as you're wont to do  
By others, if't be bad, condemn it too:  
If good, we hope you'll give some sign, that may  
Declare your approbation of the Play.  
FINIS.