THE Marriage Night.  
WRITTEN By the LORD Viscount FAWLKLAND.  
Scientia non habet Inimicum, Praeter Ignorantiam.  
LONDON. Printed by W. G. for R. Crofts at the Crown in Chancery-Lane under Sergeants-Inne. 1664.   

CASTILLE.  

The King.  


De Castro.  
Dessandro.   Count's Brothers.  
De Flame. A Count  


Pirez.  
Sampayo.   Two Lords.  


De Loom.  
La Gittern.   Attendants to the Duke.  
Silliman, Steward to the Duchess.  
Two Judges.  
Claudilla, A Duchess.  
De Bereo, A Duke, Brother to the King.  
Cleara, Sister to De Flame.  


Torguina.  
De Prate.   Ladies to the Duchess.  
Attendants.    

Licenced,  
Octob. 16. 1663. Roger L'Estrange.   

THE Marriage Night.  
Actus primus, Scena prima.  Enter Pirez and Sampayo. Pirez. 
POssible?— Dessandro quit from his Command o'th' Citadel? so sharply too? Brushing times, my Lord: Pray, by virtue of what offence?  Sampayo. 
It may be treason to ask their wisdoms that; But the huge Mountebank, the vulgar Rout quarrelled with's Religion, 'cause 'tis not in the smallest Print: And the King was to say nothing.  Pirez 
Good King: I could wish something, and heartily if I durst: Well, from grave hypocrisy and beardless wisdom, good heaven deliver us: Nothing in his great Father's Memory, to hold him worthy of his place?  Sampayo. 
That makes him taste it to the extremity of Sense and Anger.  Pirez▪ 
Let us but slight some Gull, or his gay dress (whose Clothes▪ and Folly, are his sense of honour) how it will conjure up his blood, and bend his Brow? And can Dessandro want a just and valiant anger to feel the merits of so brave a Father, and his own (kept at a noble height) rendered disgraced and fullied? he may believe a' has deserved better, both in his father and himself: But how does his Resolution take it?  Sampayo. 
As Fire and Air compressed, when struggling they break forth in Thunders; or the vexed wind amongst a Grove of Trees, spending his Scorn and Rage.  Pirez. 
Men of his Soul and Constitution cannot play with their Passions; and stroke 'um tame, so provoked.  Enter Duke de Bereo, passing over the Stage, De Castro whispering with him: De Loom; Lafoy Gittern, and other Attendants. 
The Duke.  Duke. 
Let him be confident of me, in something more worthy of himself, than the Command he has lost; and bid him use my Promise.  De Castro. 
We are the Creatures of your Favour, and but own our lives to acknowledge it.—  [Exeunt.] Pirez. 
Here's State embroidery:— but pray, what holiday things be they that spread so in his Train? I don't remember I left such faces in the Court.  Sampayo. 
The first of them stalks in a knighthood, like A Boy in a Dutch Burghers doublet; and 'tis as much too wide for him; a' his travelled, and speaks Languages, as a Barber's Boy plays o'th' Gittern; And those gay Clouts Sir came out on's Father's Shop.  Pirez. 
His Remnants: the Other: that looks like the Age to come, which must be worse than this.  Sampayo. 
His Fortune and Industry has preferred him to be Barber and Pimp; Two men's places, till of late our Noblemen, growing frugal, do find one may do both the Employments.  Pirez. 
It is both thriving and gentile.  Samp. 
Gentile indeed; for they have produced Knights, and made Statesmen of broken Citizens (with the help of a Wife) But he whose youth and sorrow shows him like a fair day, set in a Cloudy Evening is—  Pirez. 
The Lord De Castro; I know him, and me thinks some sparks of his Father, great Valesco's Character, shines in this young man, through all the darkness of his Fate.  Samp. 
That Name alone, has glory enough to make him a brave presage to us: Duke's Fathers Character was derived and circled in himself; And a full age of Men shall rarely show another of so much great and balanced Man in't.  Pirez. 
They are all Court Fancies: Pageants of State, and want allowance both of Brain and Soul to make their Blood and Titles weight.  Samp. 
He was strangely shuffled to the Block.  Pirez. 
That Blow did bleed Castille too weak, and left us in a faint and sickly pang.  Samp. 
The Pulse, Sir, of Castille beats in another temper then when you left it.  Pirez. 
I find it: The City wears a Cap, and looks as if all were not right there.  Samp. 
Except their Wives.  Pirez. 
The Court me thinks has strangely changed Complexion too.  Samp. 
Those that deride us say—  
The Clergy has catched the Falling Sickness;  
The Court, a deep Consumption; and that  
The Commons have the Spleen.  Pirez. 
I know not what disease the Court has; but the Lords look as if they had over sat themselves at Play, and lost odds; so scurvily.  Samp. 
How does your Lordship find the Ladies?  Pirez. 
I ha' not been amongst 'em yet, to take up my Arrears; only had the Court happiness to kiss her hand, who in herself, contracts them all for Grace and Lustre, the Widow Duchess Claudilla.  Samp. 
Why there my admiration leaves you; I Grant her a brave and Courtly Girl: has trim and dazzle enough of white and red, to attract the eye, like an indifferent Copy, Flourished with Golden trails; but place your Judgement nearer, it retreats and Cries you mercy for the mistake: At distances, she is a Goodly Landscape.  Pir. 
Alas, her blooming beauties yet languish and Pine o'er her Husband's Hearse, like Roses scattered from the Morning's brow, into the days Parched Lap.  Samp. 
Their Spring will shine again, Grow Glorious and Fruitful in the Arms of her De Flame; It is my hearty wish to their Affections; That Count does bear an honoured Character from all that knows him.  Pir. 
A brave young man, and one that is more Honour to his Title than it to him; But when must their Hymenial Tapers flame? and she offer her Turtle Pantings at the Altar, Purpling the Morn with Blushes as she goes and scatter such Bright Rays, as the Sun may dress his Beams with for that day's Glory.  Samp. 
After he has Celebrated his Sister to Dessandros' hand, he will not defer those Minutes Long, and he thinks himself behind in some expression of their Frienpship, until the knot meet there.  Pir. 
Cleara is a Lady of a sweet and honoured Fame.  Samp. 
All other of her Sex are dull and sullied imitations, Pale Glimmerings, set by her: What e'er the modest fictions of sweetened Pens has meant, she is their Moral.  Pir. 
You speak like one that knows what Virtue is, and can love it.  Enter De Castro, and Dessandro to them. Dess. 
I thank the Duke, he has a Right Soul; But, Prithee no more of these sad Consolations, they hang upon my heart like ponderous weights at trembling wires: Or like the dull Labouring of that Clock which groaned our dear Father's Fatal minute.  De Cast 
I have done.  Dess. 
I could chide this tame and phlegmy vapour from my blood: Our Passions melt into soft Murmurs, like hollow Springs:— the Manhood of cold hinds would not be tempted to this sense, but leap with rage in their eyes; Brother, it would; and wake 'em into Tempests; A wretched Fly, would show its spleen.  De Cast 
This Anger will but show men where you bleed and keep the wound still Green.  Dess. 
The Scar will stick for ever:— Oh; the dark Hypocrisy and Juggling of our Times? Great Men are Slaves to Slaves, and we are theirs: The Law's a Tame Wolf, Cowards and Fools may stroke with Giving hands, while he shall Couchant lie, and wag the Tail; but show his Fangs at you and I: A Noble wish is dangerous; is't not my Lord?  Pir. 
What Dessandro?  Dess. 
The Vulgar's a Kennel of black mouthed dogs that worry men's deserts and Fame: my Curse fester in their Temples.  De Cast 
Prithee Dessandro, collect these Scattered thoughts.  Dess. 
I'll hollow them through all the world, and say't again; Worth and Honour now are Crimes, and Giants 'gainst the State: My Lords; shall's be merry and talk something the Hangman may thank us for?  Pir. 
Treason? I vow Dessandro, I speak the worst ex tempore, of any man living.  Samp. 
I could mutter it well enough; but I'm to marry A City Widow, and buy a Place at Court.  Pir. 
When I have sold my Land we'll venture on A Merry Catch, and ever subscribe your Servant Noble Dessandro.  Dess. 
I shall find a Time and Place to pay your Lordship the Account of my engagements.  De Cast 
Brother, my Attendance calls me to the King; I'll wait upon your Lordship, if y' are for the Court.  Pir. 
Your Lordship's Servant thither.—  [Exeunt.] Dess. 
So streams divide and Ruffle by their banks; My Brother's of a safe contracted bosom; Can strangle his labouring Rages in their thought; When they do tug like poisons at my breast, until I give them Air: But I'll observe and Creep into men's Souls: Hugg my dear Anger to myself, until it gnaw my Entrails through, that men may Court my patience, and discourse, As now they shun it. And when black night has stretched her Gloomy limbs, and laid her head upon some Mountain Top (bound up in foggy Mists) then keep my haunts by some dull groaning stream with screeching Owls, and Bats, there pay my broken thoughts unto thy Ghost Valesco: Echo shall wake and midnight, to help me Curse their souls that thrust thee to thy grave, whilst I will hang about Night's neck until the Moon do wake to Rescue her.  Enter the Duke. Duke. 
Dessandro? You must not be angry my Power came short— of my desires to serve you; We'll try some other way: You see by what Engines the Times move; The King refers all to his Council; and though they do not tie his hands, they hold 'em by a strange Courtesy: I'm but a single Looker on: Perhaps they may take notice of me for his Brother; that's when they please too: But this came nearest to me, upon the engagement of my honour to deny my friend, and one whose single Faith had been enough for all the Kingdom's safety, the holding of such a Trifle as the Citadel.  Dessandro. 
It has recompensed me in part to know where that Close annoy lay which wounded me i'th' dark: I shall now collect myself against it, and know My Lord, where my poor life and powers are to be prostrate: Could I enlarge them to my wish they might appear Sir, to your Highness' use.  Duke. 
I know how far you can, bravest Man; your worth has taken fire here, where I'll preserve it in a Noble Flame.— My greatest thirst of Fame is my expression to Men of your Merit, who cannot want A friend whilst I have power to be one: But I am scanted and weakened in my desires, else Famed Valesco had not yet slept in his dust to please the Common hangman, nor Men of glorious Parts live shrouded in obscute homes, like pamphlets out of date.  Dess. 
You are the Patron of our honoured Actions, and all their Glory meets and Circles in your Fame.  Duke. 
I will disengage you from this forced compliment; It keeps me at too great a distance from that bosom, where I would Lodge a friend, Dessandro: I must take't unkindly too, that in the Scroll of all your Friends, I stand dashed out a stranger to your Joys.  Dess. 
My Lord?  Duke. 
But you shall not steal the Day so: I'll be one at the Ceremony, though the Bride tell me in a blush, I came unwisht for.  Dess. 
'Tis but the busy voice, that like the Nightmare rides men; And can find strange Shapes and prodigies. i'th' Clouds: I must Confess, Cleara has the engagement of all Her virtues and a Brothers on me; When it concerns me nearer, it must not be A Secret to your Highness, to whom all thit's derived to my Poor life and Fortune is a Just debt.  Duke. 
You know the way unto a Friend, If you can think I have power enough to make me so.  Dess. 
Sir I was only showed to the world to be talked on: Fortune (I thank her) has given me many knacks to play with in her mood, but taken 'em away again scurvily, to tell me, I was not born to any real Purpose, And I wish nothing she can give me.  Duke. 
She will acknowledge her mistake, and Put on her smiles to Court your merits. La Gittern? Is the King come from's sport?  [La Gittern waits.] La Gitt. 
He dines abroad, my Lord.  Duke. 
Colonel, this Day you shall bestow on me: I owe the Dutchels Claudilla a visit; Make ready straight; we'll spend a dinner time there, and the afternoon at Tennis.  [Exeunt.] A SONG. That done, Claudilla and De Flame discovered sitting in a rich Couch; at each end a Lady waiting. De Flame. 
This does but find our Melancholy out and cast it in a Minute's Trance; when one soft Accent from Claudilla's voice leaves nought that's earth about me. My Souls in her Elysium and every Sense immortal, dilated into joys: Heaven becomes attentive, and the soft Winds put on their perfumed Wings to hover near those Lips: That Blush does show the Sparkles of some incensed thought; My poor expressions Rob ye; But I appeal to this white hand for pardon.  Cla. 
Sir, my thoughts are all acknowledgements of that delight I hear and see you with, what dress so ere you please to send your Courtship in to try 'em: We have outlived those Arts, and Common Charms, and need not seek our hearts in scattered Flames, as those, whose Lesson yet, is at the hand or eye; our hearts have read Loves deep Divinity, and all his amorous Volumes over; We must write Stories of our Love, my Lord.  De Flame. 
And chaste ones, Madam: How glorious the Frontispiece would show with great Claudilla's Name, tied in a true Love's knot to her De Flames: Though the great distance of your shining Attributes both of Blood and Virtue, considered in the poverty of mine, would draw squint eyes, and Envy to my stars; but speak your Name Create as the example of your goodness, and make it worth the imitation of all Noble minds that shall but read your Love and sweetness; which (most excellent of your Sex) Condescended unto me, who else had Languished in a heap of Ashes.  Claudilla. 
My Lord; you have found an easy way into my heart, and won me from myself ere I could call my thoughts to resistance; Such strength brought your Deserts: But now I hope, nay can be Confident (best Sir) they are treasured in a Breast, whose Virtues will preserve them with themselves.  De Flame. 
Oh Madam!  Claudilla. 
It may be some Discourse, that when first I entertained your Love, I had not yet given the world, and my dead Husband's Earth, a full account of sorrow, or paid his memory a years just rent of Tears: But I appeal to my own heart; and you my Lord can say—  De Flame. 
Your heart has been but too Severe unto itself, And I can say, I have not seen a beam, break from those eyes, but through dark Clouds and showers; Or like the Sun, drenched in the swelling Main; Nor a Look with the least Comfort of a Smile in't; Nay, Divinest Madam; Now you do but Chide Heaven in your Tears; and cannot Raise the dead.  Claudilla. 
True Sir.  De Flame. 
Tears are but shallow murmurs of our Grief. I envy not his Grave a Tear, but owe all Noble mention to't; yet Madam, I did hope You had discharged the smart and Cruelty of Grief from your soft breast: And would call your beauties to their Natural springs:— Look on yourself (rare Lady) in this change With what high Flame and Rapture it becomes you: So breaks the Morning forth of a crystal Cloud; And so the Sun ascends his glittering Chair, And from his burnished Locks shakes day about; The Summer puts not on more delights and various Glory, than shines in bright Claudilla; And shall the Grave exhaust their pride and Youth?—  Enter Torguina. Torguina. 
Madam, the King's Brother gives you a visit.  De Flame. 
Who's with 'em?  Torg. 
The Colonel, your Lordship calls Friend.  De Flame. 
Dessandro?  Claudilla. 
Let's meet 'em Sir.—  [Exeunt.]  

Actus Secundus, Scena Prima.  Enter the Duke, Duchess, Cleara, De Flame, Dessandro, Attendants. Duke. 
I'm in Arrears yet unto your Grace.  Claud. 
A Widow's entertainment Sir, you please to honour.  Duke. 
I wish the hours but short that brings the Night you are to lose that Name in; And then, to what Length your own desires wooed spin 'em: Widow, Madam? there's disconsonancy in the Name, me thinks: Claudilla Widow? Duchess, and still Widow (like a Cypress cast o'er a bed of Lilies) darkens your other Titles; 'Tis a weed in your Garden, and will spoil the Youth and beauty it grows nigh: A word of Mortality, or a Memento Mori, to all Young Ladies: And a Passing Bell to Old ones: Indeed, it is a mere Privation; and all Widows are in the state of Outlaws, till Married again.  Claudilla. 
Your Highness holds a merry opinion of us Poor Widows.  De Flame. 
I say Virgins are the Ore; Widows the Gold tried, and Refined.  Duke. 
A Fair young Lady and Widow, is A rich piece of Stuff Rumpled: An Old one's A blotting Paper: A Man shall never write any thing on, she sinks so. Dessandro? your Comment.  De Flame. 
Friend, you are dull o'th' sudden.  Cleara. 
He is not well.  Claudilla. 
Not well, Sir?  Dessandro. 
Not well Madam.  Duke. 
Dull? Shall's to Tennis? I have sore Pissollets will pay your borrowed time, Dessandro.  Dessandro. 
Your Pardon Sir; I am unfit to wait on you; My life hangs in a Dew upon me; And I have drunk Poison.  De Flame. 
Ha? A Physician with all speed; Dessandro?  Cleara. 
Dear Sir?  Dessandro. 
Cleara? Lend me thy hand— So— I'm struck upon a Rock.—  [Sounds.] Cleara. 
He's dead; I shall not overtake him.  Duke. 
Look to the Lady.  Claud. 
He swells like a stopped Torrent, or a Teeming Cloud; Have I no Servants there?—  [Carry him off.] De Flame. 
What a sudden storm is fallen?  Duke. 
How fares the Lady?  Claudilla. 
Madam?  Cleara. 
As you are tender Natured, let no hand Close his eyes but mine: I am come back thus far to take my farewell on his cold Lip.  [De Flame returns] De Flame. 
Sister, Let thy warm blood flow back: Thy Dessandro lives, my Girl.  Cleara. 
Oh! may I not see him?  De Flame. 
You shall.  [Exeunt.] Duke. 
Give me leave to make this opportunity happy on your hand: How? Not vouchsafe it?  [Duchess goes off.] 
What a Tyranny shot from her scornful eye? Where have I lost myself and her? There's a cross, and Peevish Genius haunts my Hopes; A Black and envious Cloud; and I must get above it; Not kiss your hand? Is your blood surfeited? I'll quit this scorn: Indeed, I will, Coy Madam: Thou, that art Lord of my proud Horoscope; Great Soul of Mysteries; kindle my brain with thy immortal fires— That if I fall, my Name may Rise Divine, So Casar's Glory set, and so set Mine.—  [Exit.] Enter Silliman, a Bottle tied in a Ribbon to his Pocket. Silliman. 
Brave Canary; Intelligent Canary, that does refresh our weak and mortal bodies; I will have thee Canonised Saint Canary, at my own Charge: And call my eldest Son Canary: Yet for a man to love thee at his own Cost is damnable, very Damnable, and I defy it— And Siss is the blithest Lass in our Town For she sells Ale by the Pound and the Dozen; Ale? hang Ale.  Enter a Messenger. Messenger. 
By your Worship's leave, I would speak with Seign'or Silliman, the Duchess Steward, an't like ye.  Silli. 
Would you speak with Signior Silliman, an't like ye?  Messenger. 
Please God, and your Worship, an't like ye.  Sill. 
In what Language would you speak with him—  [hum.] Messenger. 
Yes verily, I would speak with him, an't like ye.  Silliman. 
At what Posture?  Messenger. 
Marry from a friend, an't like ye.  Silliman. 
Very good, my friend: Didst ever say thy  [drinks 
Prayers in the Canary tongue?  Mess. 
My Prayers, an't like ye? Your Worship's disposed to be merry: I have a Wife and seven small Children, an't like ye, to wind, and turn, as they say, simple as your Worship sees me here, an't like ye.  Silliman. 
Pox a Wives; I'll not give a Gazet for thy wife; she's tough, and too much Powdered: Fetch me thy Daughter, thy youngest Daughter, Sirrah, If the Creature be a Virgin and desirable: Look ye! There's money to buy her Clean Linen: I'll have a Bath of rich Carnary, and Venus' milk, where we will bathe, and swim together, like so many Swans, and then be Called Signior Jupiter Sillimano. But is she Man's meat? I have a tender Appetite, and can scarcely digest one in her Teens.  Mes. 
Does your worship think I would be a Judas, an't like ye? She's as neat a Girl, and as Tite at her business as the back of your hand, an't like ye: But Heaven bless ye, and Cry ye mercy: If you be his Worship here's a Letter from the Lady De Prate, an't like ye.  Silliman. 
The Lady De Prate (mark me Sirrah) is a Noble Lady; we say so.—  [reads a letter.] 
I never knew what Bondage was till now, I fear the Gilded Hart you sent me was enchanted— (oh— oh) I long to see you—— (hum— hum) therefore let me have the happiness to know the Place and Time— (even so) as you love her that blushes to write this— Yes, yes, I'll Enchant ye: I'll Time and Place ye: Surely, there's something more about me, than I can perceive: Grant that I may bear my Fate discreetly: I never knew what Bondage was—  [reads.] 
till now: Well; 'Tis Heaven's Goodness: For what am I silly wretch, to such a Lady as she that writes so pitifully unto me: It would overcome e'en a heart  [weeps.] 
of Flint: Good Gentlewoman— As you love her that blushes to write this—  [reads.] 
hum— yes, yes; she knows I love her: It will work— I can't contain my good nature.—  [drinks & weeps Enter La Gittern, and De Loom. De Loom. 
Here he is, and stands like a Map of sundry Countries.  La Gittern. 
One would take him for some foreign beast, and that Fellow to show him; how the Gander Ruffles and Prunes himself, as if he would tread the Goose by him?  De Loom. 
'Tis a pure Goat.  La Gitt. 
And will clamber a Pyramid in scent of's Female.  De Loom. 
The Wenches swore he kisses like a Giant still, and will ride his heats as Cleanly, as a dieted Gelding: Let's fall in: Signior Silliman! My best wishes kiss your hand.  La Gitt. 
Continue me worthy the Title of your Servant Sir.  Silliman. 
I am very glad to see you well, and hope you are in good health, and sound Gentlemen.  La Gittern. 
And when shall's draw Cuts again for a Wench, Signior, hah?  Silliman. 
Your pleasure to say so.  De Loom. 
The Slave's rose drunk, o' my life.  Sill. 
Please you to take Notice of my worthy Friend here.  De Loom. 
Your Admirer, Sir.  [salutes Messenger.] La Gittern. 
Slave to your Sedan, Sir.  Mess. 
God bless the good Duchess, and all that love the King, I say Gentlemen, an't like ye.  De Loom. 
Pray Sir, what News abroad, or at Court?  Messenger. 
News, quoth a? Indeed Sir, the truth is, I am a Shoemaker by my Trade; My Name is Latchet; And I work to some Ladies in the House here, though I say't myself; And yet the Times were never harder, nor Leather dearer.  De Loom. 
This winter will make amends; you shall have horse hides cheap; horse hides, dog cheap.  Latchet. 
Cheap? quoth a; Why Sir, I'll tell you (for you look like a very honest Gentleman) I am put to find a Pike myself; and must, the Parish swears, or lose all the Shoes in my Shop.  De Loom. 
'Tis very brave: Why you look like a Champion And have a Face, the Parish may Confide in.  Latchet. 
Fide? quoth a; Sir; be Judge yourself, if ever you knew the like: I have been at the Trade this forty years, off and on: and those children's shoes I have sold for six pence, or a groat, upon some occasion, we now sell for twelve pence, as they say.  De Loom. 
Then the misery is, you get the more.  Latchet. 
More? quoth a; Pray Sir a word? you are a Courtier, if I may be so bold: They say we must all be fain to shut up shop, and mortgage our Wives to the Soldiers: D' ye hear any such talk, Sir?  De Loom. 
Some buzzing: but the blades will not accept'um without special articles, and a stock of money, and plate to keep the babies they shall beget valiant.  Latchet. 
Valiant? quoth a; Truly Sir, I'll tell ye, on the truth of a poor man: My Lady De Prates foot is but of the sixes; and yet we pay five Pistols A Dicker.  Silliman. 
My Lady's foot but o'th' sixes? you lie Sirrah; By Saint Hugh, there's never a Lady i'th' Land has a Prettier Foot and Leg, if you ha' not spoiled 'em with your Calf's skin, Sirrah.  La Gitt. 
Why? the sixes is a good han'som size for a Lady.  Latchet. 
Lady? quoth a; my life for hers, there's few Ladies i'th' Court goes more upright: Nor pays better, I'll say that.  Silliman. 
You say that? Foh; I scorn to wear an inch of leather thy Nasty flesh shall handle.  De Loom 
Oh, your worthy friend, Signior; and an elder in's parish; A Pikeman too, for the Republic: Come, come, A shall be Shoemaker to us all: Canst trust?  Latchet. 
Trust? quoth a; My Name's Latchet, Sir, I served Eleven years to my Vocation, before I could be free: and have drank many a good bowl of Beerith ' duchess's Cellar, since that.  De Loom. 
I like a man can answer so punctually to a thing,  Latchet. 
Thing? quoth a; It is our Trade, Sir.  De Loom. 
Spoke like the Warden of the Company.  [Exeunt. Enter Claudilla, and Dessandro in a Night Gown. Claudilla. 
I am at extremity of wonder.  Dessandro. 
The story may deserve it Lady, when you shall Cast your thoughts upon the Man it Treats on, the Circumstances, and progress of my Love: Nay, it may raise your Anger bigher than your wonder, and work the modest pantings of your breast into a Hectic Rage: I saw this tempest gathered in a Cloud dismal and black, ready to break its womb in storms upon me: And I have cast my Soul on every Frown and horror you can arm your passion with: I have held conflict with the wilder Guilt and tremblings of my blood to rescue it: But Heaven, and my angry Fate, has thrown me grovelling at your feet: And I want soul to break the Charm.  Claudilla. 
This is a strange Mystery, to betray my virtue with your own, and I shall sin to hear it.  Dessandro. 
If pity be a sin, lock up those beauties from the view of men, or they will damn all the eyes that look upon you.  Claud. 
Has your blood lost all the virtue it should inherit? And think you by this treacherous siege to take my Honour in? Let me shun you, or you will talk me Leprous.  Dessandro. 
Do Madam— Tear up the wounds your eyes have made— I'll keep them bleeding Sacrifices to your Cruelty; And when cold death has cast his gloomy shade o'er this dust, perhaps you may bestow one gentle sigh to hauling it; when you shall know The height of my desires was but to die worthy of your pardon, without the ambition of a bolder thought; And still had scorched, and smothered here without a Tongue, only to beg your mercy to my Grave.  Claudil. 
Play not yourself into a shame will rust your brightest worths, and hide your Dust in Curses, and black Fame: I now shall think your valour Flattered, that can sink it to such effeminate and Love sick Crafts for our stale Women to mollify the Usher with. Dessandro has a Fame, high and active as the voice it Flies on: And could you wander from your religious self in such a Dream as this? Cleara's virtue has an Interest near your heart should wake you to your first man again.  Dess. 
Cleara still is here in the first Sculpture of her virtues, and I their honourer.  Claudilla. 
No more!— My grief and shame are passionate to find so much bad man, got near your heart, and show this sick Complexion in your honour, more tainted than the Face of your Imposture— you have played the excellent counterfeit, and your skill does make you proud, you cannot blush.—  [Exit.] Dessandro. 
She's gone;— A Star shot from her eye, and lightened through my blood: I must provide for Thunder, and thy Revenge De Flame, as horrid as thought can shape it.  Enter Cleara. Cleara. 
Sir?  Dessandro. 
Proud Love? I'll meet thee with burning sighs and bleeding Turtles at thy shrine.  Cleara. 
This is too bold a hazard for your health, which yet sits wan and troubled on your Cheek.  Dessandro. 
Madam?  Cleara. 
Indeed I'll chide ye.  Dessandro. 
Oh, Cry ye mercy;— some retired meditations.  Cleara. 
I shall observe 'em, Let me but leave you with the Joy to know I stand not in the hazard of that Frown.  Dessandro. 
We'll kiss next time.  Cleara. 
Sir?  Dessandro. 
Or never.  Cleara. 
Ha? d'ye know me?  Dessandro. 
So well, me thinks we should not part so soon: our hearts have been more ceremonious, and hung in panting sighs upon our Lips to bid adieu: one kiss must now sum up all, and seal their General Release: I know Cleara more constant to her virtue, and brave mind, then to ask heaven idle questions— 'Tis Fate, not Will—  [Exit.] Cleara. 
So— I feel thy Marble hand lie here: 'Tis cold and heavy: how my poor heart throbs under it, and struggles to find Air? Not one kind sigh lend thee a gale for yonder haven?— It's gone— Quite vanished— beshrew me, it was a most horrible apparition, I would not see it again in such a cruel look for all my hopes; yet it held me gently by the hand, and left a warm farewell there, as my Dessandro used: As my Dessandro? said I? oh! how fain my hopes would mock my apprehension; and that my sorrow? I'll woo thy pity with my Groans kind earth, and lay my throbbing breast to thine until I am dissolved into a Spring, whose Murmurs shall eternally repeat this Minute's story.  Enter De Flame. De Flame. 
Ha?—  Cleara 
drowned in her own Tears? Sister? Cleara?  Cleara 
I had a gentle slumber; and all the world (me thought) was in ● midnight Calm.  De Flame. 
Dear Girl. 〈◊〉 up those sad eyes & my cold doubts. Prithee tell me, is our Dessandro dead?  Cleara. 
Heaven defend.  De Flame. 
Not? what then in all the volumes of black destiny and nature, can throw you into this posture?— Unkind Cleara; why dost dissemble it? I see him breathless on thy Cheek, and lost.  Cleara. 
Lost for ever.  De Flame. 
My fears did prompt me so; For ever?— there's horror and amazement in the thought: See Cleara; my eyes can overtake thee: Gone at so short a farewell friend? Death, thou art the murderer of all our joys and hopes.  Cleara. 
Sir, Dessandro's well; very well; we parted even but now.  De Flame. 
What?  Cleara. 
Oh Brother? I have lost a jewel that he gave me and I shall vex my eyes out.  De Flame. 
Beshrew this serious folly: you have vexed my blood into a sullen fit.  Cleara. 
You shall not chide me— Tell me? didst ever in thy life meet with a Grief that made thy poor heart sick, and did divide thy sleeps and hours into groans and sighs?  De Flame. 
Never; thank my indifferent Fate.  Cleara. 
Nor in the Legend of some Injured Maid that made thine eye to pause, and with a Tear bedew it.  De Flame. 
I cannot untie Ridled knots, Cleara.  Cleara. 
Come; I'll but dry mine eyes, and tell you a story that shall deserve a groan.—  [Exeunt.]  

Actus Tertius; Scena Prima.  Enter De Castro, and Dessandro. Dess. 
TUsh— They had only tongue & malice; and that great Zeal the seemed to owe to Rome, was unto themselves, and their own Estates; what were they, but wranglers in Schools and Law? and studied words to make men guilty. They lived at ease; and slept in purples and warm furs; But bold minded Catiline, threatened their wise sleeps.  De Castro. 
There was too much attempt and fact in't.  Dessandro. 
'Twas fact then to look sour on a Gown-man: they were mere Citizens: Jealous of their Wives, and Daughters: That Condemned 'em too:—  De Castro! 
there's a Lethargy in our blood: We sleep and dream away our Lives. If such wore purple for well talking, what shall he merit that Cures the wounds and smart his Country groans with?  De Cast 
The People shall enshrine his Name with Reverence, and fill their Temples with his Statues: 'Tis the great end we are all born to.  Dessandro. 
Which can't be, whilst by-respect shall closely wound the bosom of our Laws and Freedom: For what was't Less, that took our Father's life?  De Castro. 
In whose blow, the heads of all brave men were threatened.  Dessandro. 
Then if we dare not do a general good, yet let us secure our own dear lives and honours.  De Castro. 
The State is full of dangerous whispers.  Dessandro. 
There's an Impostume swells it.  De Castro. 
Would 'twere lanced.  Dessandro. 
Spoken with the soul of Cassius; we have the cure, and may do it with a little stir: But then we must deal like true Physicians of State, And where we find it ulcered, though in ourselves, friends, and allies, not lay soft effeminate hands on't: Nature has made us nearest to ourselves: And I would pay the last warm drop of blood from all these veins to see the hopes and honours of our blood (that's now benightned in our Father's fate) dawn on De Castro's youth again.  De Castro. 
No Dessandro; Those hopes are lost upon a high and angry sea: And I must see fools and stale Parasites (whose Progeny ne'er bled one drop, nor had a valiant thought to serve their Country) begin A spurious Issue on my birthright, that will, on Tiptoes Colossus like, bestride us and grasp our Fate.  Dessandro. 
Take me into thy bosom, brave man; we meet Like Amorous streams, and as we ought; our honour, life, and fortunes, have but one heart: Give me thy hand De Castro; This Sword—  [draws.] 
our Father hath oft made Glorious in the blood of De Castro's foes: And I'll not doubt, how much it prompts thy valiant soul: Oh Brother! Tears, and some sad discourse is all that we have paid him yet: Strangers can be far braver in their sense unto his Fame: The tears we ought to shed, aught to be blood, De Castro; Blood, warm from their veins, that made us weep in streams, and mingle it with the dust of vulgar feet, as they did his. Swear by all the Glorious acts of our great Ancestry, their hallowed Urns, our Father's injured memory, and all the hopes and honour we derive from them, to pay his blood a sad account in some revenge, worthy his Ghost, and our bold hands.  De Castro. 
All which religiously, I vow to.  Dess. 
And I: So; Now we are Brothers by as strong Divinity as Nature: I'll not break open the design, till we shall hear't confirmed by higher warrant: Anon, meet at the Duchess Dowager's.  De Castro. 
Claudilla's?  Dessandro. 
Yes, where you shall hear something worthy the encouragement of our Father's spirit in thee: I am now to wait upon the Duke; he that keeps us what we are.  De Castro. 
The Duke?— I have the Game in view, and now discern, what I must pay him for my Place.  Dessandro. 
You are full of thoughts, my Lord.  De Castro. 
Brother, our Lives are on the Cast: But 'tis not that does interpose 'em: There's something in my fears still presents Cleara; Take heed Dessandro— A Virgin's tears leave sad and Fatal prints.  Dessandro. 
Your wishes are a brothers: but those dreams chill not my sleeps: Think on that concerns us near And be Active.  De Castro. 
I shall not fail ye: Farewell.—  [Exit De Cast] Enter Pirez. Pirez. 
Colonel Dessandro?  Dessandro. 
Your Lordship's pardon: Which way walk you?  Pirez. 
As you please to dipose me: My business now designs it so: 'Tis there in short—  [gives a paper which Dessandro reads.] 
I love his gallant mastery of a man's self: I looked his temper would a flamed about my ears: Not a sparkle in his brow, nor the least change of blood. Strange! I have seen him ruffled into a storm, and all fury: Now, not a frown nor smile.  Dessandro. 
De Flame?— well— My Lord, this is a down flat Challenge.  Pirez. 
I brought it for one.  Dess. 
I accept it, with thanks to your Lordship, and shall be ready to serve you in any power I have.  Pirez. 
'Tis not worth it, Colonel.  Dess 
The Lord De Flame's angry, it seems that fortune should give me right without his hand in't, h'as turned his style high and strangely on me: But I shall coolly respite that, till we have room to argue it. That he is far more worthy his expectation in the Duchess, I can Confess: that's no assent Sir to my quarrel; nor yet a law to her: For those whom her thoughts please to think most worthy, are so to her.  Pirez. 
But does not bind the opinion of another.  Dessandro. 
Nor that opinion her Freedom.  Pirez. 
Yet there be rules in virtue, from which all noble Judgements should take their Level, even in love itself.  Dessandro. 
If it be thought she's too partial in her grace to me, I shall dispute it, as 'tis questioned.  Pirez. 
I come not to add exceptions or to make any.  Dessandro. 
I stand not in so cheap a Rank, but that her favour may make my services as meritorious as his Lordships: And can engage as much blood and Fame for't.  Pirez. 
You know him of a Noble breast, and one that will not slatter weak pretences into Truths, nor let 'em work with such impressions on his Soul, did not his Honour bleed in't? Sir, I come as one that ever honoured your great parts, and wish that you could think on't o'er again: Think how black you must expect that morn to rise upon your wishes, When you lead her to the Altars; where the faint Lights with blue and Ghastly Flames, will receive ye; And all the things of Holy Ceremony Present pale Glim'rings to your eyes, to fright your Bride back unto her first vows: And then, me thinks, each Tear and Groan the Fair Cleara lends to overtake ye, should show a speaking Fury to untwine your trembling hands.  Dess. 
No; Nor all the squadrons hell can spare, to aid them: though her Brother led them on, and you brought up the Rear.  Pirez. 
Sir?  Dessandro. 
Pish— The meanest thought Claudilla pleases to bestow here (under this humble Guard) must be without the affright (my Lord) of all the dangers in his Muster: Stare they like Giants on me, and in Armies: As for Cleara, If she held flattering glasses to her thoughts which rendered 'em wide and Airy, they must not forfeit me: you may deserve her better: I'll not start Sir a scruple from his demands, and yours, expect it, and so farewell.—  [going off.] Pirez. 
Farewell?— The Time?  Dessandro. 
I shall think on't.  Pirez. 
Shall?— It must not so tamely be thought on.  Dessandro. 
How?  Pirez. 
I spoke it, Sir.  Dessandro. 
Are your scent to own the Quarrel?  Pirez. 
No; but look on't with so much Soul, as I think't as honour to wear a Sword in't.  Dessandro. 
Go; Go hang it in your mistress's Chamber, It stink▪ Sir of Perfume.  Pirez. 
It may Sir (for Destiny has many ways to the wood) Cut your throat; And then I'll give't your Footboy.  Dessandro. 
My throat, Pirez? that saucy thought has ruined thee.—  [Fight.] Enter Sampayo and De Loom. Sampayo. 
Hold, hold, Colonel.  De Loom. 
My Lord, you're hurt.  Pirez. 
I must owe him this fort't.  Dessandro. 
Canst talk yet?  Samp. 
Command your passion: See how the Common herd come Gazing in: do not become their talk and wonder: Noble Dessandro? Put up my Lord:— thank ye—  De Loom. 
Sir, my Lord Duke sent me to tell ye he expects your Company.  Dessandro. 
I wait on him— bid the Ladies tear their clean smocks to wrap you in.  Pirez. 
Insolent Man.  Sampayo. 
Again?—  [Exeunt.] Enter 3 Townsmen as Watch. 1. 
Was not I about to tell you so? they would be afraid of True men when we came.  2. 
by'r Lady, but that must not serve their Turns; For we must know flatly which was Plantain, & which Defendam or we shall discharge but a sorry Conscience to the King's Justice.  1. 
I'll take my Oath upon the Corporal Bible, I saw two glittering Swords run a Tilt, and two to that, if need be.  2. 
Neighbours, I cannot tell; we are old men, or should be at least; some of us have lived threescore years and upwards in a Parish, as they say, I name no body; and therefore it is good to be sure, & make all our tales bonum fidrum▪ For we are not all one man's Children: And yet, if I be not mistaken, I am sure I saw three more, and Glittering ones indeed, as you call them: God bless every good man and woman from the like: they e'en earned my heart, and yet by my Fay, I am a hundred and two, come the time.  3. 
You tawke like sucking Infants: Neighbours, I'll be sworn If I were to take my oath before the best man living, High or low, there was twenty drawn swords, little and great; I'm sure, I might ha' seen 'em, like a fool, had I been worth my head; but my little boy Jack did.  1. 
Lafoy there; And that same's a murrain wise boy, if you mark him; and will see a thing, I warrant you, as soon as the wisest of us all, were he twice as old again.  3. 
I could a seen too at his bigness, for all I'm Lame now, God help us; you remember the Powder Plot.  2. 
Powder Plot? quoth a; I shall not forget while the world stands.  1. 
Nor I, were I to die a thousand deaths.  3. 
That very day was I working in our Garret.  2. 
Say you so?  1. 
Nay, Neighbours beshrew me this may be true, for I have known this man here, able to do as tight a day's work by noon, as the tallest fellow the King keeps (God bless him) take him from top to toe.  3. 
All's one for that; mark me; There has not been a glass-window there, time out of mind, since I came, nor after: And I tell you truly (I'm a false Liar else) I smelled the Powder as hot as if it had been done the next day.  1. 
See, see, the wind; the wind neighbours is much God bless us.  3. 
Go too; I am no made fool, though a born fool my Masters; True, the wind may be something as you say: but if there had not been something else, I would not give a fart for't: I did not work at Court with a Master Carpenter, for nothing, my boys; and see the King's Grace fasting and full  
as I did, to a hairs breadth, as they say: Let me alone for Casting my Cards, give me but ground enough; And yet I can neither write nor read, Heaven make me thankful.  2. 
Heaven make us all thankful; I have seen the King too, in my Prime, and gave him a beck upon his milk-white Steed, as near as one should say what's this, and all his Royal Lords and Ladies sporting.  1. 
ay, I, those were the days (peace be with 'em) a poor man's tale might be heard at Court: There is some Lords and Ladies now, were lousy then.  3. 
Go thy ways, by the Rood; Nay, he'll have his old tawk, for all the world, up and down.  1. 
It was ever my condition; I care not who knows it; And yet I never scathed the least sucking Child that begs his bread: but little does another man know where the King's shoe wrings him, but those that wear it, as my Mother would often say, and she lived long enough to know it.  3. 
Nay that's certain; The King's but a Man, as we three are; No more is the Queen, if you go to that: Did you never hear of my Uncle's observations? he's but a poor knave (as they call him) but such a knave as Cares neither for King nor Kaesar, the Least on 'em.  1. 
Then he may be hanged, Neighbour Palmer.  3. 
If he be, he's not the first that has been hanged for Treason, I hope.  [Exeunt.] Enter the Duke, and Claudilla. Duke. 
That frown was shot with pretty tyranny from your brow; but this kiss shall sacrifice me to my Claudilla's bosom.  Claud. 
You'll sully your honour in't: widows are but rumpled stuff.  Duke. 
That again? by all my hopes, and by thyself, the next and greatest—  Claudilla. 
Your Brother's Crown's betwixt us.  Duke. 
I did it but to sharp De Flame, into some expression of his Wit and Love.  Claudilla. 
Alas! he sighs all.  Duke. 
And like some Crude Chaplain, spits most of his mind.  Claudilla. 
Yet the Tame Dove can Tire me sometimes with penned speeches, when we're alone, and flatter; I'm resolved to bestow him on my woman.  Duke. 
Now he can come to hand:— ha, ha▪ thinking men never Love heartily, unless they be dank Powder.  Claudilla. 
His Courtship is like thick Embroidery upon slight stuff. I must confess, I never loved the man; only as a Rich Gown out of Fashion, for a days change sometimes at home when I take Physic.  Duke. 
You may wear him as you please, and to what purpose; his honest nature was meant you so: but Dessandro is the Man of Men (I must confess) that I could wish most near you now.  Claudilla. 
Dessandro!  Duke. 
And suddenly, before your honour blush too palpably: I have discovered him, and his devotions.  Claudilla. 
Then your brains was in his Plot.  Duke. 
'Twas his own.  Claudilla. 
Stolen from some Romance or Play, but for De Flame.  Duke. 
One wheel will move another to the Period.  Claudilla. 
Methinks his soft and easy spirit should be the fitter Engine, and more pliant to your Aim.  Duke. 
He has too much of Venus in his mixture; all his desires would be at home still, in the circle of those eyes: the other is all Fire and thinks that Fame too cheap that's found so near; And there will want such men abroad.  Claudilla. 
But, where's my honour, Duke?  Duke. 
Locked in my heart and Cares: the King must die Claudilla, to smooth the way, and lift us to our wishes.  Claudilla. 
That still is talked on.  Duke. 
His last Glass is now turned, and runs apace: He gives thee to Dessandro; and is your Guest: and that Night receives eternal thanks for't: Then (my Fair) Dessandro cannot want lustre and honour for your bed: Nor thy commands what all Castille can give.  Claudilla. 
I understand not, Sir.  Duke. 
Thou shalt in time; oh my Claudilla! my best and nearest Joy, our Loves have been entire as a flame: one Centre to our thoughts and wishes, and Crown our bosoms with delight and safety— but they are come—  Enter De Castro and Dessandro. Claudilla. 
I have not known so little of his Fame— to be a stranger to his worth: Sir I honour it: Nor am I so proud and dark in my opinion, to think I stand upon myself, but stoop in honour to one of his deserts and blood: This is the way, my Lord, I ever summed up Man, and sets his Titles down but for Ciphers.  De Castro. 
Observe.  Duke. 
Which will most clearly show his merits, and heighten them in value to you: For, Madam, look on him in the Spring of his deserts, and you'll say, Titles are but narrow Spheres: And if honoured actions be the soul and breath, he's then above them and stands in the First Rank of men.  Dessandro. 
I shall want life to pay this debt.  Claudilla. 
But with your Grace's favour, I must be tender here, For I stand a tall Mark to Voice and Censure, and need not tell your Highness with what strong expectation the Count De Flame hath long time visited me.  Duke. 
If you will stand engaged, Madam— I am silent.  Claudilla. 
No Sir— But—  Duke. 
You expect honour, and Fortune to your Bed: I know Castille owns not a Subject (I'll not except myself, and had I another's Freedom, I should not speak my wishes in a second person) that Looks not with Ambition on you: But Madam, weigh them all: Take but off their Grains of fortune he shall hoist them into the air: And to my wish, he's come— Dessandro, your name was mentioned happily, I hope— Let me present his value, to your Grace's hand: And to a Sister, Madam, I would say, her bosom.  De Castro. 
You purchase our poor Lives too highly, Sir  Duke. 
I would have rich Jewels set to their worth, and shall be proud to give any advantage unto his: The Duchess shall not slight me in't: I will be heard against the proudest Courtship that shall charm her. Come my Lord, what sport will you win some ducats at?  De Castro. 
I will lose some at any your Grace pleases.  Duke. 
My Brother has got a fortunate hand of late 'gainst all the Court: I cannot rise at even terms from him.  De Castro. 
I saw him draw deep from your Grace, last night.  Duke. 
Two thousand ducats; but I expect 'em with interest again.  Dessandro. 
I cannot pawn myself to the unworthy ends of Flattery and Compliment: but this honour out-bids value of a thousand Lives: what this poor glimpse of expression can show me in: Saints, are not more unfeigned in their prayers, than I to serve you.  Claudilla. 
I shall not doubt how much I may be indebted to your Noble wishes: but let me add, Sir, He that Lays out for me without my warrant, shall scarcely put it on my account for thanks, much less, Debt.  Dessandro. 
Not good devotions?  Claudilla. 
Them I desire, and shall repay.  Dessandro. 
Then pay back mine.  Claudilla. 
I'm not to learn my prayers, Sir.  Dessandro. 
Teach me yours, that I may turn the virtue of their charms back to your bosom.  Claudilla. 
Colonel, mine would hardly please you: I never pray for wars.  Duke. 
You have back-friends, my Lord.  De Castro. 
That some malignant cloud does interpose the King's cheerful Favour, I am most sensible.  Duke. 
It would spread to me too, if they durst.  De Castro. 
Had they but so much virtue left, they durst own their names by, I should make pale envy blush.  Duke. 
Come, we'll to Cards; and leave them to parl.  [Exeunt.] Dessandro. 
Madam, but mean it in a smile.  Claudilla. 
What?  Dessandro. 
Love.  Claudilla. 
Fie.  Dessandro. 
Yet stay; The air has busy wings: but give the thought Consent: and I will take it in soft whispers from your Lip.  Claudilla. 
You will.  Dessandro. 
I feel it creep in Flames through all my blood.  Enter De Flame. Claudilla. 
Sir, the Count De Flame.  Dessandro. 
With a black Evening in his face.  De Flame. 
Oh! my faithful Achilles, I came to give you Joy.  Claudilla. 
Who? me, Sir!  De Flame. 
My virtuous friend, and you.  Claudilla, 
Of what?  De Fl. 
Of your entertainment under him: you've a brave Commander and he a— I cannot be angry enough to tell you what.  Claudilia. 
I begin to doubt his Wits, he looks so Ghastly.  De Flame. 
Yes; I see a Devil in those eyes that makes my hair. stare upward, False woman: My love durst scarce doubt before, what now I find, and tremble at. But Heaven has wrath in Ambush, and Scorpions stings.  Claudilla. 
For what? my Lord.  De Flame. 
Duchess, thy Perjury, and warm engagements to this— this huge Impostor.  Claudilla. 
Sir, a has Cracked his brains with Poetry— pray forgive him—  Dess. 
Count? you know what privilege this Roof can give you, on my Anger; or else, I should make your Frenzy Tongueless: Don't requite it barbarously on her that gives you leave to live by it: gather your scattered wits up: Go home Sir, and Repent.  De Flame. 
Privilege?— I'll, meet thee in a Ring of flames, or on the Tempest of some billow, upon whose back the raging North wind strides: Yet I'd not ha' thee lose one spark of thy full man in Noise and Air: that when next we greet, I may find thee worthy my Revenge. This Frailty, now protects thee.  Claudilla. 
Uncivil man! know the way back, or I shall let that Justice loose upon ye, you deserve.  De Fl. 
Your Centaur there, you mean; he must stare bigger to move a hair of mine.  Claudilla. 
Ye sha' not stir, Sir: As you love me do not: Let him die Mad.  De Flame. 
Do; kiss him; and clap his Cheek.  Claudilla. 
And circled him in my Arms from your Pale envy; does that make you some— Look ye—  [Kisses Dessandro.] De Flame. 
He shall not blossom there.  Claudilla. 
A shall, though thou dost bribe the Fairies with thy soul.  Dess. 
Madam, your Commands will hold me till I scorch away; I am in Flames, and Torment: And there's not so much mercy under heaven, but your own, would let him use that Tongue a minute longer. Thou hast seen this Sword reeking from Hilt to Point, and sweating showers of Blood o'er thy head, whilst I bestrid thy life and Rescued it 'gainst many gallant Foes, And durst thou tempt it to thine own throat now? Prithee begone; And let's meet no more There's something in thy youth I still can love; and will forget to call thee to account for this; be wise unto thyself; And ask this Lady Pardon.  De Flame. 
Oh my Blood! must I bear this? I am more cold than Marble sure.  Claudilla. 
Within there? where's his Grace?  Servant. 
At Cards, Madam.  De Fla. 
Oh cry ye mercy; your baked meats sha'not cool for me; I only wish that they may choke ye: That paper Sir I sent, would be worth your noble Answer.  Dessandro. 
'Tis there again, and has stopped the use I took it for.  De Flame. 
Ha?— I'll make thy Name a boys Play, and kill thee on the threshold of thy door.  Dessandro. 
Go, go, and take your Rest: when you are recovered, I may own you.  De Fl. 
Thou hast not Blood enough to answer this—  [Exeunt.] Enter Pirez and Sampayo. Sampayo. 
You tell me strange ones.  Pirez. 
But true ones.  Sampayo. 
Nice windings.  Pirez. 
This Duke can strangely back his purposes where they like him: 'Tis a fair lift to Dessandro's fortune: his stars shined.  Sampayo. 
True; sh'has a spacious Fortune; But I shall tell your Lordship, what perhaps you know not.  Pirez. 
You may.  Sampayo. 
She has no blood: From her first, an honest Tradesman's wife, who left her very rich and handsome: The Duke (as he still keeps a kennel for that purpose) had her presented to him for his Game: Removed her from the Cucko'os nest into another Sphere, but with all Caution, and private slight: And you must Imagine, now she spreads a larger wing stirs not abroad, but studded like the Night, with Flames: And at length becomes the Court's discourse and wonder; but still kept the Country her retiring place.  Pirez. 
Unknown?  Sampayo. 
Or unsuspected, as the Duke's Instruments dealt it: And the young Henriques being in those parts with our King's brother for sport, casually (as 'twas plotted) visits her house: Falls in love and married her: This is the Epitome.  Pirez. 
I hope the Duke Bereo, had no dull hand in't.  Sampayo. 
'Tis thought (only by me Sir) keeps his acquaintance to this day.  Pirez. 
It must be Fatally answered some where; heaven has a Justice.  Sampayo. 
The Preparation makes huge Noise.  Pirez. 
'Tis well the King's a Guest; Their Triumph might miscarry else.  Sampayo: 
The King gives her in Church: Methinks the Count De Flame, must needs be all Flame at it; And I believe Sir, your affront bleeds freshly in him.  Pirez. 
It must be put to an Account somewhere.  Sampayo. 
To return his Challenge and honour with such a scorn must work such a spirit to high extremes.  Pirez. 
The saddest story is his Sister.  Sampayo. 
A Rose new Blown, and flung aside to wither in her sweets; Poor Innocence; That has much changed my opinion of Dessandro.  Pirez. 
His Resolution, and Ambition, are like vast Trees whose spreading tops hide their own Roots from the kind Sun.  Sampayo. 
Let out unto so vast a Pride, as shades all his natural virtues, or makes 'em grow up rank and sour: The event will tell us all.  Pi. 
I wish it without blood. Your Lordships for the Solemnity?  Sampayo. 
My Attendance ties me to his Majesty's Person.  Pirez. 
My best wishes to your Lordship.  [Exeunt.]  

Actus Quartus, Scena Prima.  LOUD MUSIC. Enter the King, Cardinal, Duke, Duchess, Dessandro, De Castro, Sampayo, Ladies bearing up her Train, Voices, Lutes, they pass over, Manet De Loom and La Gittern. De Loom. 
SO: By this time the confines Ring of our great Solemnity.  La Get. 
She became his hand bravely, & with so skilful a brow, as if the first Fruits of her honour, were to be gathered yet.  De Loom. 
Our Duke will lick his Lips at this night's sport.  La Gitternt. 
And wind her up for him, 'twill go hard else.  De Loom. 
That shall not hinder our sport, I hope.  La Get. 
Expect the Steward and his Bottles, I'll warrant you  De Loom. 
The Ladies too? we shall not tickle heartily else.  La Gittern. 
When the great ones are bedded.  De Loom. 
I'th' old Place?  La Gittern. 
It's Corner Lobby.  Enter De Flame and Cleara disguised. De Flame. 
You belong to the Duke De Bereo Sir?  De Loom. 
Who told you so?  De Flame. 
A Friend that would commend me with a poor suit unto you Sir, if you be Signior De Loom.  De Loom. 
But this is no year for suit; Sir.  De Flame. 
Mine brings thanks ready told Sir, Look ye? All double Pistolets, Signior.  De Loom. 
Sir, I shall try my Power, and be ready in any service te'e, for my friend's sake.  De Flame. 
d'ye know who 'tis?  De Loom. 
Hum— No matter; I'll undertake your business.  De Flame. 
Sir, can you please to pardon some light Gold?  De Loom. 
You shall find me a Gentleman in any thing for my friend's sake.  De Flame. 
Nay Sir, It weighs a hundred pound at all Peradventures.  De Loom. 
And I'll tell you one thing of myself Sir, more than perhaps my friend remembered; I am very honest where I take; and every man is not to be trusted with matters of such Consequence: A very Fair purse, I assure you.  De Flame. 
Nest and Birds are all your own.  De Loom. 
Your business is done, believe't Sir: Please you to kiss the King's hand into the bargain?  De Flame. 
At fitter opportunity, let me be ambitious of your offer: but I shall woe your Courtesy to be only a looker on now.  De Loom. 
Any thing Sir, you can make worthy your request Nay-I hope you do not wish me forfeit  [Compliment for the door] 
good manners— As I'm virtuous—  De Fl. 
I am a stranger to the way: Gentlemen? know yourselves, I beseech you.  La Gittern. 
To obey you Signior.  De Loom. 
Sir you need not speak on't to this man: he's but my Lord's Barber: Since you command it so—  [Exeunt De Loom & La Gittern.] De Flame. 
Light, light Revenge! heave up thy gloomy Tapers that thou may'st see thy smeered Altar shine in blood: Come my Cleara; my better soul, whose gallant mind will leave thy Name in the first place of Women, And raise thee Temples (bravest of thy Sex:) I could expire on thy Cheek, and pay thee reverence my most excellent Sister.  Cleara. 
Just heaven, and your brave virtue (my dearest brother) has wakened my dull breast and trembling Sex: I do not feel one Pale or Coward thought: but all high, and active to my wish.  De Flame. 
I see it Lovely in thy brow, like the Gleaming dawnings of the morn when day first kindles; yet our Presage is fair.  Enter Duke whispering with De Castro. Cleara. 
The Duke—  De Flame. 
Now Innocence, guard thyself, the wolf is up: see how mischief teems and quickens on their brow: some black thing is spawning: Night must be Midwife to't: If we stay, my Poniard will break loose.  [Exeunt.] Duke. 
Who's that?  De Castro. 
Some of the Duchess Servants, I believe Sir.  Duke. 
Your hand will lay a new foundation to a Kingdom; And I am busy how to divide it with thee, when we can call it ours.  De Castro. 
'Tis his last night with Mankind: The Poison Sir will do't so subtly: whilst he but holds the Knife, the least warmth attracts, and so dispreads  
itself through his blood and spirits. Not any struggling fort with nature: his life steals from him in a gentle slumber.  Duke. 
Grow in my bosom; till you spread to the first honours of your wish: My fortune is too narrow for your merits to whom I owe it, & all my Power, brave friend  [Exeunt. Enter Steward, Butler, Cook, and Maids. Steward. 
Come my Masters; The great ones shall not have all to themselves: we'll have a Civil bout or two, to get us a stomach to Bedward, my sweet hearts.  Cook. 
Noble Mr. Steward!  Butler. 
Brave Mr. Steward!  Cook 
The Fire of my respects shall ne'er go out unto you.  Butler. 
Nor mine be Quenched.  Steward. 
Here Cook? here's a bit for you to lick your Lips at And here's clean Nappery for you Butler  [gives each a wench.] 
take it—  A Dance. Ste. 
So, so; I am almost spent; every man to their Function  [Exeunt.] Enter King, Cardinal, Dessandro, Duke, Duchess, Attendants. King. 
The Night begins to frown at our uncivil stay▪ And Hymen's Tapers do burn out a pace: Good Night; you shall not stir a foot Dessandro.  Duke. 
All the wishes of a Bridal bed Crown your wishes and embraces.  Cardinal. 
And all the blessings of true Joy  Duke. 
To bed to bed.  [Exeunt.] Enter De Loom and De Flame. De Loom. 
You are as melancholy as day when Sun sets; I hope you do not doubt my promise.  De Flame. 
No.  De Loom. 
Ye sha' not: I'll not leave you till the Grant be yours be Confident; And that's more than a Courtier is bound to by his oath. Sir, where are you? why you were living but e'en now; could speak, and sense too: ha' you seen any thing against nature, or stomach? hum— Sweet heart, has thy Master any fits o'th' Mother?  [too Clea. 
or Falling-sickness? Pretty knave; 'tis pity this face was made for breeches.  De Flame. 
Ha?  De Loom. 
I am glad you are come to yourself again.  De Flame. 
You are pleasant.  De Loom. 
I would ha'you so: I have provided some mirth and good company for you: Please you but spare an idle hour from your sleep, we'll allow't again in the total of your business (I must not lose his money) If you can smile you sha'not want a subject: besides, we shall have the wit of a handsome Lady or two, and hear their voices.  Enter Steward, and a Man with bottles. 
Look ye Sir! here's the Imprimis of the house Mr. Steward himself, whose Company may be worth your observation— Signior Silliman, this Gentleman is a friend of my Lord Dukes; pray let him know he's welcome.  Steward. 
I am but the duchess's poor Steward Sir, but my place is at your Command, Sir: you sha'not have me Claim kindred of her for all that: yet— Sir Thomas De Loom here, can say something if he please, Sir.  De Flame. 
Thank ye Sir.  Steward. 
Look ye Sir Thomas! I never fail; here be the perquisites of life and good Company: There's that will elevate voices; come, disburden thyself, in that Lobby, my honest rational Camel; Is this Gentleman dumb? he can say nothing but Thank you Sir.  De Loom. 
I fear he's Planet-struck.  Steward. 
'Tis great pity: yet he makes very gentle signs.  De Flame. 
I'm got into a dark and slippery Labyrinth, and grope but by a spark, whilst every pause is fatal— No. It had miscarried; and the King's presence was a sacred guard: now to break in upon them, were to betray our lives to nothing: sure Heaven will not lose the glory of such a Justice, and by a hand so justly engaged.  Enter Lafoy Gittern, Torguina, and La Prate. De Loom. 
The Ladies; Good Girls; this deserves a double thanks— Here's a Gentleman whose merits may invite him to your acquaintance, Ladies.  Torguina. 
I shall ever study that due honour, by all the Ambitiousness of your humble Servant, Sir.  La Prate. 
You may please to pardon her, whose demerits makes her modest in their expressions to honour you Noble Sir.  De Flame. 
You engage a poor Life to your virtue.  De Loom. 
What, Ladies? have you put 'em together for a brave Boy to night?  La Prate. 
That's as the Dice run, Sir.  La Gitt. 
The Colonel will find a piece of service on't to night  La Prate. 
If he put her to the worst, 'twill be worth her pardon being so tried a Soldier.  Torguina. 
If his valour should be short-breathed, a retreat may be honourable sometimes.  La Prate. 
If he fight not flat Coward, and made it in policy.  Torguina. 
Sir, we have read over Aristotle's Politics and Polybius, to that purpose.  La Prate. 
Who calls Policy the very breath of all war.  Torguina. 
And so by your Ladyships good licence, in all Battalions, leaguers, skirmishes, sieges, invasions, parleys, treaties, truces, and other cessations.  De Flame. 
Excellent Ladies.  De Loom. 
For the Theoric.  La Prate. 
We can say some thing to the practic too, Signior.  Torguina. 
Both concerning your postures and motions, as which may be necessary for service: her Ladyship has written a small tract for her private experience to show how they may be reduced, and a Man exercised with far less trouble, but with as much Activity, and proportion of comfort.  La Prate. 
For body▪ and service, Madam?  Torguina. 
I mean so: I warrant you this Gentleman understands me.  De Flame. 
And will not your goodness bestow it on the public? It would rank your Name amongst the illustrious benefactors of the general Cause.  La Prate. 
I know not what I may Sir, when the Press is fit for a woman of my Quality: Is this Gentleman a Soldier?  De Flame. 
That ambition has grown with me from the Cradle, Madam.  La Prate. 
I shall render myself with more endeerment to your worth, and ever subscribe to Soldiers as the bravest Men.  De Loom. 
The Duchess, I hope will use of your opinion; But Madam, had I the use of that key for an hour or two, I would take some notes in shorthand behind the hangings.  La Prate. 
You would?  De Loom. 
Yes indeed, my precious wit, I should.  De Flame. 
That Key?  Torguina. 
Signior? pleaseth you to think our humble invitation, worthy the grant of your society.  De Flame. 
I could wish the trouble of ten lives more, to be accepted in your Command, Fairest of Ladies,  La Prate. 
Were all our days multiplied into years, and those years to lives, 'twere but a span of time to study our thanks in▪—  [Exeunt.] Silliman. 
Madam? Lady?—  [manet Silliman and La Prate.] 
I never knew what Bondage was until now— I fear the Golden heart you sent me, was enchanted: I long to see you—  Lafoy Prate. 
What d'ye mean Sir?  Silliman. 
Ha, ha, ha: hum— Nothing, Madam, but there be them that love a good nature with all their heart: that have Four hundred pounds a year, and money in their purse, to be Knighted, if need be.  La Prate. 
Wit and opportunity assist me— The Thing will make an excellent husband for the times: And Four hundred pounds a year is a Considerable fortune to boot: I must take him at his bound, or perhaps die in the Lift of stale Chambermaids, A Court plague for a misspent youth and service.  Silli. 
I am a Gentleman already, else the Heralds took my money for nothing: And methinks Madam, you and I might—  Lafoy Prate. 
What Signior?  Silliman. 
Be as wise as our Forefathers.  La Prate. 
You and I?  Silliman. 
Yes; what say ye to you and I? is not you and I good Spanish? Why Madam, I am able to warm my own sheets, and get Children without the help of a Doctor, and can kiss as warm and Close— And you shall swear my breath is sweet.  La Prate. 
You're merry Sir, beyond my apprehension  Silliman. 
Pardon me Lady if I be: I mean no harm I protest.  La Prate. 
very witty.  Silli. 
I am, what I am: but I was never beholding to any living thing for thus— much wit: I might a been an arrant younger brother, but for my mother; thereby hangs a tale Madam: And yet I cud a danced my Cinque pace in Greek at a dozen: Alpha, Beta, Gama, Delta, cost me five shillings: can you believe me Lady? By this Light you shall wear this Diamond: There; shalt; shalt ha''t; shalt, shalt: shalt have't,  La Prate. 
There is such sorcery in your words.  Silliman. 
No: No: No: Troth love me: come; thou shalt; by this— nay never sigh, my dear, they are all orient, sweet wench: thou art worth all Spain for a good disposition—  Lafoy Prate. 
You will undo me Mr. Steward.  Silliman. 
Pish: who I undo thee? My life, thou dost wrong me: canst find in thy heart to think so? away away.  La Prate, 
But is this profession, honourable Sir?  Silliman. 
I scorn to deal upon dishonourable terms: Do I kiss like a man that would Propound dishonourable conditions?  La Prate 
Men are so nice and cunning.  Silliman. 
Dost think me a Jew? swear me to any thing.  La Prate. 
Well, you have taken a Poor heart at advantage and make me blush to confess it.  Silliman. 
Kiss me; here's my hand till death us do part: Thine more than mine own, Signior Bouche overte, Sillimano: Sealed, and delivered: but I hope Lady, there is no Quit rent to be paid out of this Copyhold.  La Prate. 
Not for your life Sir.  Silliman. 
Lawful possession then, and thouart mine own  [Exeunt.] Enter De Flame and Cleara. De Flame. 
So; let 'em drench their souls in Laughter: Kindle thy Noble heart into a Flame, my Sister: Fate cannot give, nor we ask more unto our cause: All things conspire and Prompt us to't: Just, and Divine revenge; I'll strew thy midnight haunts with Cypress wreaths, and wear thee in rich Medals: Propitious Goddess: This night thy wan, and meager Cheek shall blush and smile with warm and wanton blood: Night grows heavy eyed and droops her slumbering head in her dark bosom: And now their Rage and Lust, will make them ripe to bleed: Let us embrace, and interchange a sigh or two, Cleara: what ere become of me, thou wilt wear Chaplets in Elysium.  Cl. 
My hopes and Joys are yours (dear Sir)  [unlocks the door and discovers them.] 
And heaven I hope will not divide them.  De Fl. 
See what a modest blush, sleep has cast o'er their Guilt.  Cleara. 
Here is a look Tyrants would bashfully gaze at and fear to think it mortal: Glorious hypocrisy! virtue is at wonder in herself, and looks pale, to own what she has given.  De Flame. 
I should mock heavens Justice, to let 'em dream their souls away in such a calm: we'll startle them into horror of their sin, and then let 'em see the vengeance they deserve.  Cleara. 
Ye chaster powers, to whom I and my Virginity groans; May every drop breath incense to your Justice, whilst thus I break their springs open.  [Stabs Claudilla.] Claudilla. 
Oh:— Dessandro?— oh— whose hand's that?  Cleara. 
Cleara's, Cleara's, carry that name in thy last breath down to the shades of Lust and Perjury.  De Flame. 
So quick, and brave Cleara?  Claudilla. 
Oh!  [Expirat.] Dessan. Cleara: 
Madam, Madam, your sleeps are troubled— whose's there, De Flame?  De Flame. 
Raise not thy voice an accent: If thou dost, by my eternal hopes and soul, this strikes it back unto thy heart: Seest thou revenge sit Pale upon the Point? 'Tis steeled with Virgin's curses, and shall fly like lightning through thy blood: And it is a Justice thy vast pride hath lost thee to.  Dessandro. 
Oh! what hast thou done? A deed that Flinty Scythians and curled Ethiopes would hide their eyes from.  De Flame. 
Our Revenge shall wear a Glorious title: Know'st thou that injured face? It is Cleara's, injured Cleara's.  Dessandro. 
Cleara?  De Flame. 
What seest thou on that brow?  Dessandro. 
Murder!  De Flame. 
Horror and Guilt unto thy soul.  Dessandro. 
I'll not be tamely butchered, Coward: without there? Help help help.  De Flame. 
Whirlwinds and Earthquakes cannot do it; think on thy sin.  Cleara. 
Thy Perjury.  De Flame. 
Thy Lust.  [Cleara stabs at him.] Dessandro. 
Cleara? Oh— thou hast a skilful hand in Murder: Help, Help, Murder.  De Flame. 
So falls a wretched Statue from its haughty station: when Fate, would make it ominous and fright a state. What a thick cloud steams from his tainted blood: The Air shrinks back, and with dull wings fans it from heaven.  Enter De Loom, La Gittern, Torguina, etc. Torguina. 
Murder! Murder! 'Twas his voice.  De Loom. 
It was his voice.  Torguina. 
The Key?  La Gittern. 
Gone!  Torguina. 
Cut from my side; I am betrayed.  De Loom. 
Look search the Room: where's the stranger?  La Gittern. 
The Door is fast.  [knocks.] De Fl. 
You may come in; make up your wonder there  [op's the door Torguina. 
My Lady Murdered?  De Loom. 
You have astonished Heaven,  Torguina. 
And pulled eternal curses on your head.  De Flame. 
They'll fall like brittle shafts upon my shield.  Cleara. 
Unjust Dessandro! yet on thy Lip I'll tender my last vows, that the world may tell, I loved thee Dead— and this— and this—  [kisses him, then stabs herself.] De Flame. 
Hold; hold that cruel hand: Cleara? Sister?  De Loom. 
Cleara? This is a horrid Scene, my Lord.  De Flame. 
'Twould not be worth my Name, did it not strike Amazement through your souls, and leave a paleness on his Cheek that hears it. But here; here I could melt! Transfuse my brains through my sad eyes, till they wept blood, & dropped their Jelly forth: She was a Jewel, too rich for our dull Orb: [Enter more servants you need not multiply your fears: I am too proud of my Revenge to start from't: Let the Law frown, and fall in Tempests on me:— Cowards repent  
When valiant blood ne'er Pales at the Event.  [Exeunt.]  

Actus Quintus; Scena Prima.  Enter Pirez, and De Loom. De Loom. 
A Sad Court indeed, My Lord.  Pirez. 
As sad a Kingdom where the news is spread: men that hear it, stand struck, as if their own passing-bells did call unto them.  De Loom. 
King's Glasses are as brittle as their meanest subjects; their footings as slippery, and incertain: He was a brave Prince, and his Life will be memorable in Castille.  Pirez. 
His death is much admitted for the sudden strangeness of it: What opinion give the Physicians on't?  De Loom. 
Th'ave a hard Name for't, if I could think on't.  Pirez. 
Not suspicion of Poison?  De Loom. 
How, my Lord? by whom would ye suspect it?  Pirez. 
Nay, I dare suspect none, nor done't: but such Quirks of State I have read of, in the days of old.  De Loom. 
I never saw him discount a day with more content and freedom; his very thoughts were hearty.  Pirez. 
'Twas a fatal one, and will give a sad discourse to out Posterity; and leave it on Record, in bleeding characters.  De Lo. 
The Count's resolution had too much blood & cruelty in't.  Pirez. 
Dessandro urged as much as mortal sense could groan with.  De Loom. 
I now call to mind, still as he spoke and glanced upon Cleara's face, I had strange startlings in me.  Pirez. 
As the Times have.  De Loom. 
The Times? my Lord; For what?  Pirez. 
The King's Death, Sir.  De Loom. 
Why my Lord? the Times are not of the worst presage, though that may cloud them a little.  Pirez. 
I am no Booker, Sir, nor Lily; to prognosticate what seven years may travel with: but I could with the price of knaves may fall.  De Loom. 
Your Lordship's virtues command not a more humble and observant creature.  [Exit.] Pirez. 
This Fellow must be muzzled.  Enter Sampayo. Samp. 
Who's that?  Pirez. 
The Duke's thing; his trifle broker.  Samp. 
The King's now.  Pirez. 
Castille did never hear more news, I fear.  Samp. 
We shall now see the fine Turns and games of State.  Pirez. 
When Fools and knaves chase Trump.  Samp. 
Now Heads and Points will be the sport.  Pirez. 
The King will have the heads then, I believe.  Samp. 
Observe 'em.  Pirez. 
So near?  Enter Bereo, Nobles soliciting him with Papers. 
— Heavens bless your Majesty: he'vens keep your Majesty;  [within 
Please you to hear your most faithful Subjects?  Duke. 
Who are they that bark so?  De Loom. 
A Rout of Porters, Prentices, and Sailor's Wives; with such a spawn; who are modest Petitioners your Majesty would give'um leave to govern you in some matters of State, and humbly pray, to be admitted of your Privy Council. Here's another Sir, from the most Reverend Bags of the City, to purchase all the Churches of your Majesty, for Warehouses. And this, Sir, from the Corporation of Weavers, Cobblers, and Feltmakers; that you would please to give 'em leave to fire all Universities, and Schools of Learning, that the Profane might better see the Truth.  Duke. 
No more— Their stinking breath will stifle me: keep back their Clamour: wealth and ease has made the Rascals wanton and profane their Alligeance— My Lord, [De Castro kneels] you need not kneel in a Cause that equally concerns Us with you: the groans of your Brother's wounds echo unto our sleeps: Our Honour and the Laws bleed in them, until a Justice stop their Issues, which our own care shall take a speedy account of.—— Sampayo?—  [whispers.] Sampayo. 
I shall, my lord—  [Exit.] Duke. 
Oh! My Lords; we are circled in a Tide of Grief, where every billow threatens a Grave: but in your Loves, out hopes takes new life, which we as zealously shall sacrifice again to you, and yours— Let me be beholding t'ye for— a minute's Conference with my own sad thoughts.—  [Exeunt.] Duke. 
So— Take breath my hopes, whilst we with pride look upon the world behind us, and then Survey the Glory of our progress, and success— The print of every step is glorious; and me thinks we stand like Rome herself, in midst of all her Triumphs, when her threatened head Leaned on the spangled breast of Heaven, and justled with the Gods: From whose Imperious frown the world took all her Laws and Dooms: Yet her vast story shall look pale to mine: and Time begins his great Example here: Castille, thou now shalt blush for thy neglect: I'll print thy scorns on thy own brow, till my revenge look lovely as Rome's in her bright Flames to Nero: And Nature shall repent, that she mistook the man, Fortune meant thine. Then up my Soul, and from thy Glorious stand, see thy proud hopes and wishes Court thee: Thou hast been bashful yet, and hid in blushes— make room for thy more spacious thoughts—  
And let the Petty world know this; all things Depend upon the breath of Gods and Kings.  [Exit.] Enter two Officers. 1. 
There, there; Lay that in the place; so so; here; help to spread this Carpet: Quick, quick.  2. 
Will our new King be here to give the forked herd an oration?  1. 
An halter: Thou dost so fumble:— but what's the general voice of the King's death?— Here's the mourning for that bat.  2. 
Marry, some think he died against his will, and others that his Brother— where stands this?— will bury him very Royally—  1. 
Hum— And others think if thou wert hanged when 'tis thy due, there would be quickly a knave less; dispatch, dispatch, I hear them coming.  Enter Judges, the 2 Ladies, De Loom, La Gittern, others; De Flame stands at the Bar. Officer. 
Pray by your Leave; Make way; give back there, for shame, Sir, you press so hard upon the Judges, they scarce have liberty to breath: Clear the Bar: Peace.  1. Judge. 
My Lord— Here's none but knows you, and I believe do grieve to see you stand thus; and for a fact of such a bloody Nature; A Gentleman of your fair hopes and Fortunes, blood and spirit, and other excellent Parts, all cast upon untimely hazards by such an Act (as indeed I know not how to name it) you needs must therefore be worth our Grief: And I presume you are not now to know the Laws and Customs of this your Country, with what Religious care they look unto the safety of our Lives and our Estates, & with what strictness on Perpetrations of such a Die—  
2. Especially where innocent blood is shed: And therefore we being but the Tongues of the Law, (my Lord) may hope you will interpret the Justice of it, clearly from our Mouths—  De Flame. 
Please you, most Reverend Lords, Is there ought else but this, I am to stand Accused for?  2. Judge. 
Not that we know.  De Flame. 
Then, my good Lords, you need not labour much to find out Circumstances to condemn me: Nor do I wish or think, My Lords, to satisfy the Law, by talking in my own defence: Nor will I brand myself with such a Fear, much less hope, as to bespeak a melting Tear. That were to wish the Act undone, and rob my Justice of a Glory, I would be torn to Atoms for: No; I come to meet the Law: And if your Wisdoms can contract the spacious Volumes of it int' one doom, I sha' not startle, or divide my breast. My resolution was aboveed, when first I undertook to be my own Law and Judge—  1 Judge. 
I grieve to hear this Language from you▪ It tastes much from the man that you have seemed my Lord, stain not your Noble and Religious Fame with such an Atheism.  2. Judge. 
Look back into the deed my Lord: see what a Tide of blood pursues you, and breaks upon your soul in Angry Seas.  De Flame. 
Look back to our Fame, Grave Lords, the blood and honour of our Family: Nor think it my vain Glory to urge it here since the cause does. There has not yet in all the ages it hath served the State, one stain fallen on our Scutcheon: And although, my Lords, these honours are derived to us in a vast circle of time and blood, the passage must be still through our veins; and so are treasured here as heat in Fire; so as the least taint in us reflects a blush on the First virtue of our great ancestors, and what has man called sacred, but his honour? That dwells not in the smiles of Fortune: Nor can she place the Fool or Coward in the rank. And can your wisdoms think ours so cheap as to become the scorn of such?  2. Judge. 
My Lord, 'twould better satisfy all those that know you to hear your Grief, than Passion.  De Flame. 
Oh? Cry ye mercy: he was your Lordship's kinsman: yet I will add, he basely did betray a Love and Innocence more noble than a thousand of their Lives (Poor Cleara) Perjured his Faith and honour, and quite dissolved their holy ties, in the Lascivious arms of her, whose name shall not take honour from my breath.  2. Judge. 
We spend time; Pray give those Ladies leave to speak.  Enter De Castro. De Castro. 
My Lords, the King is come to fit amongst ye.  Officer. 
Stand back there ho; you; Goodman Roundhead, you'd best breath in the King's face: Pull back your horns Sir— d'ye mutter? take that, and crowd Further: The Rogues are as hollow, as a vault, and sound like one with a blow.  Enter Bereo, De Castro, Attendants, at the other Door, the King himself. 
Within— The King. the King, Whooe.  1. Judge. 
What's the matter?  Duke. 
De Castro? is this a Mask, or Apparition?  King. 
— seize on the Traitor—  Duke. 
Ha?  King. 
Hence; Monstrous thing.  Duke. 
Traitor?  King. 
Yes; and a foul one— My Lords, suspend your wonder— we thank ye— Prodigy to thy blood we have given you leave to wanton in your Guilt, and see at what mighty impiety it would reach, to fasten you the surer in your toil:— take your places; — durst thou derive the Glory of our Grandsires to thyself; whilst with unnatural hands thou tearst their Graves up, mingling blood and shame with their blessed dust? Have we not shared our Kingdom with thee? Let thee into our heart nearer than nature, if possible? And could all this beget no better thanks then Poison? the very thought unnerves my Joints.  Duke. 
Treason?— who dares avow it Sir? or Charge the least stain upon my Loyal bosom, and make it good? I challenge all Mankind, and envy from the nether Hells; 'Tis but some engine to betray me to you.  De Castro. 
I did but quit a sin which would have betrayed us both eternally, and bore so sad a shape of horror, as it affrighted all within me, and like a Frenzy held me till I had purged it from my bosom.  Duke. 
Had thy revenge no other way but this, to undermine the virtue of Nature against itself? My Lords, there's forgery in't; Poison? and Treason? It did amaze my innocence: Sounds, that my blood do shiver at: And did not I see his Father's Treason blush yet on his brow, I should not think Castille infected with the thought.  1. Judge. 
My Lord De Castro? What proof or circumstance have you to urge this Clearer to his Highness?  Duke. 
Grave Patriots of the Law: give me your leave in this, that would blemish the honour of my Fame for ever. Let him produce but any that may accuse me to your Reverend Judgements, and Bereo will lay down his head to the Block: But I know your wisdoms will discern a plot in't: and how fair he stands incompetent against me in Faith and Honour.  King. 
What say you my Lord?  De Castro. 
Sir, what I have told your Majesty, my Life shall make good on any torture: My Brother being dead, Heaven only and my Conscience can clear it: And to quit my Innocence of malice, your own Conscience must tell you, my Lord, that when first you used my Brother to ensnare me, and pressed it in the Duchess Garden, how much I argued to divert you: But then—  Duke. 
My Lords? I desire Justice & reparation on the Villain.  2. Judge. 
My Lord De Castro?— The King has pleased to give us your Relation, in which (though the least tenderness cannot be impertinent to his sacred safety) there's nothing that can raise the Law to any Argument, which may reach the Duke, scarce as a Peer, which looks upon him as the second man, in whom all our safeties all and hopes are stored: Not to be touched with every Jealousy, but at a high and Reverend form of Proof.  Duke. 
Let me appeal unto yourself, Dread Sir!— which of my actions or Services of state can be suspected? and do you not perceive that where his Father left, his Treason would begin?  De Castro. 
Help me, dear Truth, or else I shall suffer for my Loyalty: Great Sir, be pleased—  Duke. 
That most Judicious Judge has well observed, there is an Envy in his soul would reach from you to your Succession, and leave the Character of his Father's Treason on it in blood and Ruin: Wretched man! Trust me, I grieve for thy slide from piety; and when I look upon the love and pity I have cast away on such a thing, I repent my easy faith: Good Heaven! what will men fall to?  King. 
Take the Count unto the Citadel, and let none be admitted to him, upon peril— [Exeunt with De Castro.] Brother, they were no easy insinuations that did engage our fears to this; but such as named a higher proof and Circumstance: And we confess, it struck our nature with some passionate struggle. Not that the wish of our ambition is fixed here, and would revive a term of years to rob ye of one minutes glorious trouble: yet, my Lord, if our Laws take care to preserve the meanest Subjects life, our own ought not to be looked on with less Providence: And Fears are happy Cautions many times; but mine retire— Let our desires meet, and reconcile me to your arms— [embrace] his merit shall find the Justice it has scandaled, if it stand guilty.  Duke. 
If? my Lord. Can yet that scruple stay behind?  Returns with De Castro & Dessandro, A Phycian and Chirurgeon, etc. De Castro, 
See? Royal Sir, I have met a miracle, that [they kneel. heaven has preserved and sent to Guard your sacred highness and the Truth.  De Flame. 
Dessandro risen from the Dead?  King. 
Dessandro?  Dessandro. 
The vilest wretch alive, who throws himself at your feet in tears of blood, and so much horrid guilt as calls for all the wrath of this, and the other world: Not daring to lift my hopes to any pardon; oh Sir! 'twas he (backed by that bad Prince and other giddy hopes) that would have seduced my Brother to that Act against your sacred Life.  King. 
Would it went no further? Duke De Bereo? Can now your brow change colour?  Duke. 
'Tis all Imposture.  King. 
Fie, fie; Don't glory against heaven that hath left thy Sin no subterfuge.  Duke. 
You would not fright me from myself?  King. 
Well. our Guard?  Doctor. 
May it please—  [kneels.] King. 
Rise.— what would ye say Sir?—  Doctor. 
Under your gracious Licence this— we found our princely Lady, and the Lady Cleara cold in their clodded gore: This Colonel, so spent in expense of blood, as we could not say alive: For that half spark of heat left in his veins, was then e'en going out: our care having preserved and kindled it to life again after his shattered Faculties could pant and breath, he called for Pen and Ink, and caused us write what there contained.  [A Paper.] Dissandro. 
Of too much truth; And I blush for those few drops of blood, I have left to expiate.  Duke. 
I am betrayed and Lost— Couldst be in love with that faint Life, for one poor minutes smile, to betray it to ignominy and Law? I could trample on thy skull, until thy reeking brain sparkled about the dust: See how busily they contract their Dusky brows? Consult things safely, and let some reverend Statute be ordained, in honour of all Cowards: De Castro? For this good service know, 'twas I that laid thy father's head upon the block: Complotted with the Portuguez to make him guilty to the King: And envying that he spread with so much shadow in the state, by a Close Faction rendered him odious to the people: An Engine I knew could not fail: I hurried thee to the Duchess wanton bed, Dessandro; knowing De Flames high blood, would quit the debt I owed thee—  Dessandro. 
He's proud all mischief can call him Patron.  Duke. 
Nor had I shared the pleasure of a kiss to you or him, but that our purpose needs would have it so.  De Flame. 
Sir?  Duke. 
The Language is plain and true.  De Flame. 
Then Claudilla was your Court Mistress, Duke 'twere profanation to say whore.  Duke. 
Young Lord, I can forgive that language in a suffering man.  De Flame. 
Forgive it?  Duke. 
Forgive it— and had De Flame himself enjoyed her bed, and reaped the scattered minutes of our love, he must a found another Gloss more safe and honourable.  De Flame. 
Must?— what saw you in me did promise so tame a thing, as to feed on your high Scraps? Glorious mischief.  Dessandro. 
My Lord, I beg your mercy; And to deserve it will weep the remnant of this unworthy Life unto Cleara's Name.  De Flame. 
All mankind has my Peaceful wish, but this black speckled Serpent, whose Load doth make the Earth to Groan and sweat.  Duke. 
My fair Claudilla? me thinks I see thee Lovely in that ghastly trim of death, while yet thy soul was struggling through thy Cruel wounds.  De Flame. 
The day begins to frown and Creep into eternal night: we'll bed together in one Grave, Cleara: Castille shall hide us in a golden heap, and name me with her patriots for taking this foul monster from her bosom,  Duke. 
I'll find thee in the Myrtle Groves below, and leave a story that shall tell the world how much I loved thee  [they stab each other. King. 
Desperate Atheists,  Duke. 
You were before hand Sir.  De Flame. 
You've overtaken me— the world is hid in a Cloud, and shrinks to Chaos— Oh— whither must I wander in this mist?— so, so— I feel thee glide away, and leave me sunk upon a Quicksand.  [Expirat.] King. 
What a thirst of blood burnt up their hearts that they must Quench it in their own?  Duke. 
Hast thou not Air enough, my panting Soul? — Oh— what a stitch is coming.  [Expirat.] King. 
Would thou hadst better loved thyself and us: For while thou prized the honour of that blood we prized thee with it: Oh Ambition? The Grandam of all Sin, that strikes at stars with an undaunted brow, whilst thus thy feet slide to the nether Hell▪ Like some vast stream that takes into its womb all springs that Neighbour by it, and would proudly carry all their Currents in its own; swells o'er its banks, and wantons like a Tyrant— Take hence the sight: It stirs our inclination.  [Exeunt cum Corporibus.] Omnes. 
Long live the great and good King of Castille.  King. 
We thank ye, and just heaven which hath (unto wonder) unknotted all these mischiefs, and kept us safe: And because we do not Love to use the Laws in their extremity, or execute with Blood where we can moderate without▪ But chiefly Dessandro, to endeer ye more to Heaven in your acknowledgement, We do enjoin you to some Religious House of Orders: There by an humble Life, to expiate your Guilt.  Dessandro. 
Upon my knees I do acknowledge your Godlike mercy.  King. 
De Castro; Our thanks shall make your Loyalty exemplary to all times: Nor with we to live longer than to gain the Faith of all: That we may find ourselves and Title most secure, and greatest in your Loves; which gives us more than giddy Fortune can—  

This is our Fate, and to the Wise is known,  
All Goods without Us, are not sure our own.   
In tenui Labor est; at tennis non Gloria.  
FINIS.   

London, Printed for R. Crofts, and are to be sold at his Shop at the Crown in Chancery-lane under Sergeants-Inne, where you may be furnished with most sorts of Plays.