THE Tragical History, Admirable Achievements and various events OF GUY EARL OF WARWICK A TRAGEDY Acted very Frequently with great Applause By his late MAJESTY'S Servants.  
Written by B.J.  Car●iere vel noli nostra vel ede tua, Mart Epig. 
First Edition.  
LONDON, Printed for Thomas Vere and William Gilbertson without Newgate, 1661.   

THE Tragical History OF GUY EARL of WARWICK.  

Actus Primus.  Enter Time TIME 
that is past, the Muses now recalls,  
forcing my fleeting presence to retire,  
and pitch my feet upon the English shore,  
I had almost drowned in black oblivion,  
an honoured History of an English Knight,  
as Famous once for deeds of Chivalry,  
as any of the Worthies of the world:  
Renowned Sir Guy of Warwick whose great Name,  
makes England famous in all after times,  
for nursing up so brave a Martialist.  
Time now renews his fortines, to the world,  
and lays them open to your Gentle Views;  
think then with apprehensive eyes you see  
this warlike Lord boldly attempt to fight,  
with that fell savage Boar of Calledon  
that spoils the fields and murders passengers,  
him hath his sword subdued; and now again,  
he combats with that huge and monstrous beast,  
called the wild Cow of Dunsmore Heath;  
all for the love of Phillis he performs  
for Phillis love, old Rohons' only Child,  
what will not Guy of Warwick dare to do?  
and having done those things that she enjoined,  
he reaps the harvest of her happy love,  
and at the length enjoys her for his wife.  
To grace this bridal feast, imagine then,  
King Athelstone hath left fair Winchester  
and here in Warwick Castle keeps his Court.  
What follows now of Guy and his fair Deeds,  
sit and behold, the story now proceeds.  Exit Time. Enter King Athelstone, Guy, Phillis, Rohon, Herod, with others. King. 
Brave Guy of Warwick, honourable Earl.  
thus long in love and favour to thyself  
King Athelstone hath left fair Winchester,  
to frolic here with thee and thy fair Bride;  
Phillis the comfort of old Rohons' Age  
thus long to you we have been troublesome,  
and used your Parks and Pastures as our own;  
but now we'll leave these parts of Warwickshire  
and back again return to Winchester.  Guy. 
These Kingly favours that your grace hath shown,  
in honouring me a worthless Subject thus,  
hath plumed my thoughts with Eagle-flighted wings,  
and bears my mounting mind as high as Heaven;  
till I have done some deeds of Chivalry  
Worthy the love of your Dread Majesty:  Guy. 
Which I'll perform with triple diligence,  
and at your yearly Feast of Pentecost  
will Guy of Warwick send a hundred Knights,  
suddueed and conquered by these Warlike Arms,  
to do their Homage to King Athelstone,  
lowly upon their knees at Winohester.  King. 
We thank thee Guy, but will not have it so,  
live with thy love, thy sword hath won thee Fame,  
and all the world doth speak of Warwick's Name.  Herod. 
The conquests that by thee hath been Achieved,  
makes men amazed, and warlike Knights afraid  
to come in danger of thy Conquering Sword.  Lord. 
Thy manly deeds are Graven in each man's breast,  
and thy large fame is spread from East to West.  Rohon. 
Live then in peace, my fair high-hearted Son,  
since all men muse to think what thou hast done,  
the Calledonian savage Boar is dead,  
and by thy hand the wild Cow slaughtered,  
that kept such Revels upon Dunsmore Heath;  
and many adventures hast thou passed beside  
to make my Daughter Phillis thy fair Bride:  
she now is thine, and all that I possess,  
is Guy of Warwick's so he'll stay with us.  Phillis. 
Intends my honoured Lord to leave us then,  
speak gentle love, my heart is full of fear;  
O seek not danger, that is every where.  King. 
Content thee Phillis for he shall not go,  
thy love entreats but we command him so,  
And now Earl Rohon, reach the King thy hand;  
Old man we thank thee and we take our leave;  
Farewell Sir Guy, fair Phillis now adieu,  
all earthly comfort still attend on you.  Exit King. Guy. 
Bright Angels still protect your Majesty,  
Father conduct the King a little on his way,  Exit Rohon and Herod. 
Sir Herod attend them, Phillis here, and I,  
must yet confer, we'll follow presently.  Phillis. 
What means my honoured Lord to stay behind,  
when every one attends his Sovereign;  
why dost thou look so sad and stand so mute?  
all looking downwards with thy care-crazed head:  
speak gentle love, if grief thy mind oppress,  
Phillis will never leave thee comfortless.  Guy. 
Ah Phillis!  Phillis. 
Sweet: what hath Phillis done  
that thy great heart should grieve to think upon?  Guy. 
Nothing, O nothing, and I now to thee,  
neither the fear of death, the loss of friends,  
nor any thing this mortal life can yield,  
doth trouble me or once molest my mind.  Phill. 
What then disturbs thy high heroic Thoughts?  Guy. 
That I must leave my Phillis whom I love;  
O be not sad dear soul, but hear me speak;  
for what I say must stand irrevocable.  
Seven years to win thy love this Sword of mine,  
hath beat down Monsters, and subdued strong Knights;  
seven years to win thy love this breast of mine,  
hath been opposed even against the face of death:  
But for my God who gave me power and strength  
to do these wonders in the sight of man,  
hath Guy of Warwick yet no service done,  
the thought of which torments my inward soul;  
and breaks my heart until I have redeemed  
my great neglect of service to my God;  
For which to him alone I have made a Vow,  
never to lie by my fair Phillis side,  
to eat, to drink, nor rest long in one place,  
till I have seen my Saviour's Sepulchre,  
within the Walls of fair Jerusalem;  
and with my Sword for my Redeemers sake,  
beat back those misbelieving Saracens,  
that seek the Ruin of that holy place,  
making them leave deluding Mahomet,  
and trust upon the blessed Name of Christ.  
All this hath Warwick sworn to undertake,  
or lose his Life for his Redeemers sake.  Phill. 
Sweet Lord!  Guy. 
O do not bid me stay,  
and ask me what thou wilt, I must away!  Phill. 
See the rich burden of my youthful womb,  
the hopeful issue of thy happy love;  
let that yet move thee, dear Lord do not go,  
lest both of us do pine with grief and woe.  Guy. 
Weep not sweet love; for tears will not avail;  
but when the time comes thou art brought on bed,  
and of thy child art safe delivered:  
Give it to Herod if it be a a son,  
with it deliver him this Ring of Gold;  
tell him that I entreat him from my heart  
that he will see my Infant well brought up;  
bid him be kind to him, as I have been,  
in all Adventures dangerous to him.  
Now give me my Palmer's Gown, my Hat and Staff,  
these must I wear, fly hence all worldly pomp;  
thus for my Saviour and Redeemer's sake  
these blessed Weeds of Pilgrimage I take.  Phill. 
My hearts so sad I know not what to say,  
God grant thy Grave be not that Gown of grey;  
My much misdoubting heart says I shall see,  
my high loved Lord laid low in misery.  Guy. 
Do not presage, dear love, but here me speak,  
I charge thee on that love thou bear'st to me,  
never to reveal to Father, Friend, no nor the King himself,  
what I intent nor whither I am gone;  
until a month be past and I hence free;  
for pursuit of my Friends will follow me.  
Do this and Phillis love will brightly shine,  
and Guy return with joy from Palestine.  Phillis. 
I must, I will even do what you please,  
your will shall be fulfilled yet ere you go;  
this pledge of my true love I will bestow;  
upon thy Hand I put my marriage Ring,  
If ere I see the same and thou not by,  
Phillis will grieving weep, and weeping die.  Guy. 
I take thy pledge of love, and in exchange,  
give this true loves kiss, and here Vow,  
nothing but death shall make me leave this Ring.  
Time calls me hence, fair Phillis now farewell,  
with thee let all Heaven's joys for ever dwell.  Exeunt. Enter Old Philip Sparrow, & his son the Clown. Old. 
Dost thou hear me soon, zoon.  Clow. 
Never talk Father, never talk; for Youth will have his swinge, if it be in a Halter; and I being a young Man and a Scholar, will go travel to try the fruits of my Learning.  Old. 
But whither wilt thou go soon ha'?  Clow. 
Faith Father, Romo Romulus, even to Rome, Morter morteribus, with a Mortar on my Head. But Father I'll come upon ye with a Verse, Prapria que marrowbones tribiunter mascula dogstones.  Old. 
What's that zoon ha'?  Clow. 
That is, you must give me Forty pounds, and I must go seek my fortune.  Old. 
Nay I'll hold thee forty of my teeth on that, the whoreson knave, and he'd tarry at home he might be Clerk of our Parish, so he might; he has his writing and reading Tongue, as perfect as eating porridge, so he has; and sides all that, he spouts Latin as vast as a Mill grinds salt; but i know the eause why thou'dst so vain be jogging?  Clow. 
Why Father?  Old. 
Nay I'll tell thee with a witness, 'tis comported all about our Parish that thou hast got our Neighbour Sparlings Daughter with Barn.  Clow. 
How comes the old Fox to know this trow; well I must set a good face on the matter or all's marred. Who I get her with Child? Father, why I take to witness the backside of our Barn-door, I never kissed her but twice in all my life.  Old. 
That thou shalt see, come hither Parnell,  Enter Parnell. Par. 
O Mr. Sparrow I little thought you would have used me thus!  Clow. 
Why Parnell how have I used you? If there be ever a one in the Parish can use you better, let him take you and the Child too for me.  Par. 
But Mr. Sparrow you are not so good as your promise.  Clow. 
Nay Parnell never talk of that; for I have been better to you then my promise.  Old. 
How Knave, hast thou been better to her then thy promise, ha'?  Clow. 
Why Father if you'll not by't off my Nose, I'll tell ye, I promised her to go home and eat a sour Milk Posset; and if I have got her with child, 'tis more than my promise, and she's beholding to me for my labour.  Old. 
I sirrah, but you must marry her and make her amends.  Clow. 
How like an old fool you talk Father, why, she had more need make me amends; for I have made her look pretty and plump, and she has made me look like a shotten Herring. But Father take your blessing from me, for I must needs be walking.  
Hony sops queen Mary's pence,  
Tears parts at going hence,  
Ego volo Domine tu,  
Sparrow will come with joy to you.  Old. 
God's malediction go with thee good soon, Ah wees me, wees me.  Par. 
Farewell good Mr. Sparrow.  Exeunt Old Man & Parnel. Clow. 
Nay do not cry good Father, do not weep sweet Parnel, but even farewell and be hanged, that's twice God bo'ye; I made as though I had been sorry, but I could not weep and if I should ha' been hanged; but now will I go serve the bravest Man in all the world, his Name is Sir Guy of Warwick; they say he's going to Jerusalem and Jericho; but if he goes to the Devil I'll go with him, that's flat; and if Parnel be brought to bed before I come again, some honest Fellow do so much as pay for the Nursing of the Child, and I'll do as much for him another time.  Exit.  

Actus Secundus.  Enter Time. 
DEvotion and Divine Achievements cause  
Great Guy of Warwick to neglect all Laws,  
Of Nuptial League, he leaves his pregnant Wife,  
Country and Kindred for a holy Life,  
But in his progress, makes himself a prize  
To multitudes of matchless miseries;  
By which it may be justly understood,  
He is not truly great, that is not good:  
In Holy Lands abroad his spirits roam  
And not in Deans and Chapters lands at home,  
His sacred fury menaceth that Nation,  
Which hath Indea under Sequestration:  
He doth not strike at Surplices and Tippits,  
(To bring an Oleo in of Sects in Sippits)  
But deals his warlike and dead-doing blows,  
Against his Saviour's and his Sovereign's foes;  
That Coat of Armour fears no change of weather,  
Where sanctity and soldier go together:  
So doth our Champion march up to the fight,  
Sat, silent, pray, Time will bring all to light.  Exit. Enter Guy and Sparrow. Guy. 
What Sirrah Sparrow?  Spar. 
Anon, anon Sir.  Guy. 
What are you turned Tapster since you came out of England?  Spar. 
Tapster quotha I shall never be so good a man while I live; for I had rather see a Tapster then a King: I like your long Journeys at Sea well but for one thing.  Guy. 
What's that I pray?  Spar. 
O Master here's no Alehouses by the way, a man cannot get a Can of Beer for any Money; but Master why did you give that great Castle you got from the Giant to that puling harlotry in the silk Gown?  Guy. 
Why Sir she was a Lady of great birth.  Spar. 
A Ladle of great birch, why and she had been a ladle of holly; I would not have given't her I trow, you had been better a given it me by half.  Guy. 
What wouldst thou have done with it?  Spar. 
I would have wrapped it in a Letter and sent it into Warwickshire for a token: but Master, good sweet Master lend me your Sword.  Enter an Hermit. Guy. 
What wilt thou do with it?  Spar. 
Here comes an Old man I'll kill him.  Guy. 
Ye cowardly Rogue wilt thou kill a Hermit?  Spar. 
An Emmot quotha, 'tis one of the foulest great Emmots that ever I saw.  Guy. 
God bless thee Father and send thee happiness on Earth and Heaven when thou diest.  Spar. 
And the Gallows when a dies, what should he do with Heaven?  Her. 
O what art thou that speakest of God or Heaven, full forty Winters have I lived here, and never heard the Name of God till now, but in my prayers and my orisons.  Spar. 
A saucy old Knave I perceive, he uses to eat Oranges, Which very word makes me have an appetick as fierce as a Fiddler at a Feast; it is a question of some difficulty, to resolve whether my Master's Spirit, or my Stomach be the greater; if he have the valour to knock down a Dun Cow, I have the Courage to Cut he rup, and the Confidence to Carbonado her quarters.  Guy. 
Father into your private ears I dare,  
power out my spirit, my designments are  
for holy Actions, you may understand,  
my pilgrimage is to the holy Land,  
where my Redeemer's cause is trodden down,  
where he wore Thorns, Usurpers wear a Crown,  
I go to view the Monument and story  
Of him that was no less than Lord of Glery.  Her. 
You answer punctually to what I ask,  
but son you undertake a tedious task,  
as intricate as dangerous, may I crave  
the name of him whose valour is so brave?  Guy. 
Although I now shrouded in these Pilgrim's weeds,  
(an holy habit fit for holy deeds)  
I am an Earl, men call me Guy of Warwick.  Her. 
In all the space betwixt Dover and Barwick,  
I have not known a man of clearer Fame,  
(whose actions add new glory to his Name)  
than he that owns that title, all that's good,  
attend your Spirit and preserve your blood.  Spar. 
And Father Emmot did you never hear of the Famous actions and valorous Achievements of one Squire Sparrow?  Guy. 
Away you Hedg-bird.  Spar. 
Philip is his Name,  
A bird of Venus, and a Cock of the Game,  
who once being in Love with pretty Parnell,  
did crack her Nut, and thou mayst pick the Kernel;  
she is a Peacock every man doth veil  
his bonnet to her, when she shows her tail.  Guy. 
Leave talking of your trundle Sirrah.  Spar. 
Why so? my Mistress Parnell is as precious to me, as your Lady Phillis is to you, we have gotten them both with child; and all the difference is, that Phillis is your wedded Wife, and Parnell is my unmarried Mistress, and we must needs run up and down killing of Dun Cowes, Dragons, Wild-boars and Mastiff Dogs, when we have more work at home than we can well turn our hands to.  Her. 
I like your high design, that for the truth,  
can in the days of dalliance and youth,  
prosecute piety, and attempt things  
that Consecrate the Crowns of greatest Kings.  Guy. 
Father your benediction will add wings  
to all my undertake.  Guy kneeleth. Her. 
May the springs  
Of ever pregnant providence ne'er be,  
shut to your wants, but flow fertile and free,  
may you ne'er feel necessities sharp rod,  
the blessed Guardians of the highest God,  
protect thy steps and keep thee far from ill;  
so farewell Son my prayers attend thee still.  Spar. 
Nay but do you here Old Man, pray let you and I have a two or three cold words together? Have you ever a House here in these Woods?  Her. 
No House but a poor Cottage, gentle friend.  Spar. 
Unch, How say ye? you would fain curry favour with me, but 'twill not serve your turn: Have ye ever an Ambry in your Cottage, where a Man may find a good Bag-pudding, a piece of Beef, or a Platter of Bruis knockle deep in Fat; for I tell thee old fellow, I am sharp set, I have not eat a good Meal this Fortnight.  Guy. 
Come hither Sirrah, can I no sooner come into a stranger's Company, but you seek to disgrace me!  Spar. 
Who I? why Master? you are mightily deceived in me, for I never use to say Grace before I see meat on the Table.  Guy. 
Sirrah, I speak not of saying Grace but of Disgrace, therefore Sirrah go and tell him you want no meat.  Spar. 
Shall I tell him so?  Guy. 
I Sir.  Spar. 
I shall tell him a monstrous lie then.  Guy. 
You'll tell him so, quickly too if I entreat you.  Spar. 
Yes I'll tell him because I dare do not otherwise; old man did I tell you I wanted meat?  Her. 
I marry did you.  Spar. 
Ye lie like an old Knave, yet if you have any Bread and Cheese about you, put a piece in my Cap.  Guy. 
Sir leave your prating, Father far you well.  Her. 
More good attend thee then my tongue can tell.  Exit Hermit. Guy. 
This is the stately Tower of Donather,  
where Huon of Bordeaux a courageous Knight  
slew Angolofar in a single Fight:  
go Sparrow, seek find me an entrance in,  
let me alone to cope, with those comes forth.  Spar. 
Why Master have you no more wit but to send me, did not you hear that there keeps a monstrous Giant in this Castle, that eateth a quarter of an Ox at a bit, his mouth's as wide as a barn door, his eyes as broad as two pewter platters, and besides all that, they say, he hath Four and twenty Men to throw Mustard in his Mouth; Now if I should come in the way, fall in the Mustard Fot, and be thrown into his mouth, you might go look for a man where you could get him.  Guy. 
I but you being a Sparrow methinks should fly from them.  Spar. 
O Master I must confess I have been something loftily minded in my young days, but Parnell and the rest of the pretty Wenches in our Parish have so plucked my plumes, that I was never good mounter since i'faith.  It Thunders and Lightens. Guy. 
Very well, than you'll not go?  Spar. 
Go, yes I'll go that's flat. O Master! the Devil, the Devil, the Devil.  Guy. 
Why? how now Sirrah, are you afraid?  Spar. 
No, I scorn to be afraid, but good Master for God's sake grant me one request, upon my knees I ask it.  Guy. 
What's that Sir?  Spar. 
Sweet honey Master go yourself.  Guy. 
I thank you Sir, but if you go not soon, my Sword shall bring you of a stomach to go.  Spar. 
O Master, never talk of that; for I have a stomach like a Horse, but no heart in the world to go to such a breakfast, but yet I'll go what somere comes on't, though I run into a bush presently; I am in Master, I am in.  It Thunders & Lightens. Guy. 
It is no Giant sure that keeps this place,  
but some Enchanter or damned Sorcerer.  
Hellhound come forth, that I may cope with thee,  
I fear not all thy charming Sorceries;  
send forth no shadows to affright my soul,  
my Faith no Hellborn Fury can control.  Enter the Enchanter. Inchan. 
Let all my horrid Vapours cease their strength;  
Let the Air Frieze, the Earth be cold as Ice,  
whereon this during Knight dothset his Feet.  
For though Hell's Force can no ways daunt his heart,  
he soon shall know my Force can tame his Pride.  Guy. 
I cannot lift my Arms unto my Head,  
my Feet stick fast into the solid earth,  
and I shall never move myself from hence,  
damned enchanter, hellish sorcerer,  
whose black damned Art, hath wrought my luckless fall;  
O that thou durst let lose this damned spell,  
I soon would send thy fiendlike soul to Hell.  Inchan. 
By all the burning brooks of Phlegeton,  
by Styx and Acheron I vow and swear  
ne'er shalt thou go alive out of this place.  
Thus do I lay a charm upon thy head,  
a hell bred slumber close thy senses up;  
there grovelling lie, and never more arise,  Guy falls. 
a black enchanted charm close up thine eyes.  Exit enchanter. Enter Oberon King of the Fairies. Obe. 
But I will break thy charming Sorceries,  
and he shall wake to be thy overthrow.  
You harmless spirits of the flowery Meads,  
Nymphs, Satyrs, Fawns, and all the Fairy train,  
that waits on Oberon the Fairy King,  
attend me quickly with your silver tunes;  
and in a circled Ring, let's compass round,  
this sleeping Knight that lies upon the ground.  Enter the Fairies with Music, they Dance about him, Oberon striketh Guy with his Wand, he awakes and speaks. Guy. 
Where art thou Guy? what heavenly place is this?  
what ravishing sound of Music fills mine ear?  
what blessed shadows do appear to me,  
that am a woeful wretched sinful man?  
O pardon me as I am faithful true,  
I never yet meant hurt to none of you.  Obe. 
We know it well, arise fair Knight, stand up,  Guy ariseth. 
thou wert enchanted by a hellish fiend,  
that doth inhabit in this hateful Tower;  
he casts thee in a deadly charming sleep,  
and but by my means thou shouldest ne'er have walked,  
I am the Fairy King that keeps these Groves,  
for Huon of Bordeaux sake, thy Warlike friend,  
the dear loved Minion of the Fairy King,  
will I make Guy of Warwick's name be feared;  
for conquest of the Tower of Donather,  
here take this charming Wand, I give it thee,  
which is of such great virtue if it touch,  
all the Enchantments in this spacious world,  
they all shall be dissolved immediately.  
For proof whereof make trial against this Tower,  
and in a moment it shall vanish hence.  Guy. 
Great Fairy King, how am I bound to thee,  
that from these dangers hast delivered me,  
I'll touch this Tower, if that dissolve these charms,  
Warwick is free from all enchanting harms.  It Thunders, Lightens. Enter Sparrow running. Spar. 
Fire, Fire, Fire.  Guy. 
How now Sirrah, what's the news with you?  Spar. 
Whoop Master are you alive still? nay, than I care not i'faith, but I have been peppered since I went from you.  Guy. 
How Sir I pray.  Spar. 
When you sent me to seek an entrance into the Castle, I thinking it was good sleeping in a whole skin, ran and hid myself in a bush, I had not lain there long but it began to Thunder and Lighten monstrously, and presently the Bush flew a Fire about my Ears; that with your favour I came away in a stinking complexity; but Master what fine little hop, O my Thumbs have you got here.  Guy. 
Sirrah take heed what you say for these are Fairies.  Spar. 
Fairies quotha, I care not what they be, I'll have about with them for a bloody Nose; I have a better stomach to sight with one of them, then with the Giant agreat deal; Unch ye whoreson little pigpies, you I'll tickle ye i'faith.  The Fairies fall about him, pulls him down, pinches him, he cries out. 
O Master help, help.  Guy. 
How now Sirrah, what's the news with you?  Spar. 
I am killed master, I am killed.  Guy. 
Killed knave, where art killed?  Spar. 
In the Buttock, in the Buttock.  Guy. 
Well Sir, rise, or I'll rise ye.  Spar. 
Rise quotha, yes, I'll rise, but I am sure I am dead; do you call these Fairies, a vengeance on them, they have tickled my Collefodiums i'faith; but master what is that same little gentleman's name?  Guy. 
Sir his name is King Oberon.  Spar. 
Little Gentleman is your name King Colbron?  Obe. 
No Sir, my name is King Oberon.  Spar. 
Why then good King Muttonbone learn your little Monkeys to pair their Nails with a pestilence; for my posteriors will feel the print of them this fortnight at the least.  Obe. 
Sir hold your peace, and Guy give me thy hand,  
the way I'll show thee to the holy land,  
where I will add such glory to thy name  
that all the world shall speak of Warwick's fame.  
The black Enchanter he is gone to Hell,  
in endless torments ever for to dwell,  
Nymphs, Satyrs, Fawns, and all the rest march on,  
before stout Guy, and youthful Oberon.  Exeunt.  

Actus Tertius.  Enter Time. 
THus swiftly runs the silent hours of Time,  
whilst worldly men secured by their wealth,  
think not on time nor on their souls fair health  
but those whose well adorned limbs are made,  
of that pure metal which shall never fade;  
those that have learned of Angels how to sing,  
and to the world all piety doth bring,  
and fills the world with learning and with art,  
to those doth Time her Golden gifts impart;  
you fair beholders of this honoured story,  
think now that Guy of Warwick he is gone,  
leaving these Fairies and King Oberon,  
and now to fair Jerusalem takes his way;  
where hearing of the Wars the Pagans make  
against that City and that holy Land,  
he now prepares himself by force of Arms,  
to save Judea from ensuing harms;  
long stories are not told in little time,  
much matter in small room we must combyne:  
we'll curt all nothing, yet make something short,  
because we would shun tediousness of sport;  
if it be long, say length is all the fault,  
if it be lame, say old men needs must halt.  Enter Sultan Shamurath, Sultan of Babylon, with Zorastes. Sult. 
Thus Sultan Shamurath, as Earthly God of Kings,  
have marched along with all their Warlike Troops.  
Ten Thousand Galleys, ships and brigandines,  
lie dancing on the Adratique Sea,  
ready to be commanded when we please,  
to bear this Captive King of fair Jerusalem,  
to our Triumphant City Babylon;  
but say Zorastes, how shall we employ  
our Warlike Forces 'gainst these Christians.  
Most dread and mighty Emperor of the East,  
whose puissant and warlike Force commands  
even from the orient to the sons decline;  
suffer not thus these hated Christians  
to immure themselves in walls of stone and brass,  
whilst Sultan Shamurath with all his Lords  
attends a day of battle with their swords.  
Great King of Babel, now be ruled by me,  
and let Zorastes counsel now prevail,  
I'll raise up heaps of damned spirits from hell,  
that shall make way unto my bold attempt.  
Legions of Devils attend my dreadful Charms,  
ready to be commanded when I please;  
then mighty Sultan make no more delay,  
my art shall make the Conqueror this day.  Sultan. 
Thanks stout Zorastes, great Magician thanks,  
but first let's summon them unto a parley  
perhaps they'll yield their City to our hands,  
knowing our force to be invincible,  
and they not able to withstand our power.  
Trumpet or Drum summon a parley there.  A parley sounded, Enter the King of Jerusalem upon the walls. King. 
What craves Thasirian Emperor at our hands?  Sultan. 
Homage and fealty as thy Sovereign Lord,  
of all these spacious bounds of Christendom;  
know petty King of fair Jerusalem  
I am the mighty Sultan Shamurath  
that rules the triple City Babylon,  
and all the Kingdoms of the Eastern world,  
only this little part of Asia,  
holds out against us and derides our faith  
scorning our Laws of holy Mahomet,  
but by his blessed Koran I swear,  
I'll ne'er departed, nor draw my Army hence,  
till in the Temples of Jerusalem,  
both Mahomet, Asteroth and Termagant,  
those holy Gods that Governs Babylon  
be set for you stout Christians to adore,  
which ye shall do, or all of you shall die,  
and basely at our foot like Vassals lie.  King. 
Proud and Presumptuous Tyrant as thou art,  
we fear no bugbear threats of Tyranny,  
nor all the multitudes thou canst command,  
we guard and keep the blessed Sepulchre,  
of our dear Saviour and Redeemer Christ,  
within the walls of fair Jerusalem,  
though on a sudden with your heathen Troops,  
you have begirt us with a fearful siege:  
yet know proud Syrian that fair Zions' hill,  
King Solomon's Temple, and the marble Tomb,  
which we adore with awful reverence,  
can raise a hundred thousand Christians  
and proudly beat you back to Babylon.  Sultan. 
Thou will not then surrender us thy Town?  King. 
Not whilst one man survives to lift a sword,  
attempt the worst you can, to save or kill,  
we are prepared even against the worst of ill.  Exit King. Sult. 
Why then at all, march forward warlike Lords,  
we'll parley now with Pole-axe, Bills and Swords,  
darraigne our battles, and begin the Fight,  
and Mahu still direct my course Aright.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Guy of Warwick Solus. Guy. 
Thus through the help of my dear Saviour Christ,  
whose outstretched arm hath still preserved me,  
I am escaped from Sultan Shamurath,  
and all his Host of cursed Saracens;  
now I am come where I may fix mine eyes  
safely upon King David's City walls.  
Is this Judeas' pride, fair Zions' hill?  
Sanctum sanctorum and the house of Heaven,  
the place where my dear Saviour lost his Life?  
O how it grieves me to behold thy walls,  
hemmed in with Dogs and cursed Saracens,  
that seek to rob thee of thy beauty quite,  
and turn thy joyful day to mourning night.  
But heaven assisting me, I will prevent  
their damned purposes, and make them repent,  
their journey taken 'gainst Judeas' good,  
or in that fair adventure spend my blood.  Enter Sparrow crying. Spar. 
Tarry, tarry, tarry, hold, hold, hold.  Guy. 
Why? how now sirrah, what's the news with you?  Spar. 
O Master are you there? I have done such an exploit as you never heard of in your life.  Guy. 
What's that Sir?  Spar. 
Nay, I am sure it passes your Capacity, but I'll tell you though, for it was a valiant piece of service, when I saw you got in amongst the Pogons, I thought some body had hired you to break heads by the dozen, for you never hit any of them, but they shaked their heels as though they had the Palsy; I seeing you so hard at work thought it not best to trouble ye, but after the old manner ran and hid myself in a bush.  Guy. 
O Cowardly slave! was this your Valiant piece of service?  Spar. 
O Master you do not hear half yet, I lay so long till you were gone, and looking out of the bush, I could see all the Pogons laid fast asleep; then went I sneaking and stole away their Snapsacks with all their Victuals, I got up to the top of a Hill, and eat it up every bit, when I had done, I began to hollow; the Pogans missing their provant, came running after me, but I made one pair of Legs worth two pair of Hands, and outrun them all i'faith.  Guy. 
I thought what hot service you do always, but peace, here comes the King of fair Jerusalem.  Enter the King of Jerusalem. King. 
I am a wretched King, the more my woe,  
Kings are sometimes distressed, and I am so,  
but if thou be that warlike Conqueror,  
that through the Pagan host hath cut thy way,  
I do beseech thee even with woeful tears,  
to save Judea Zion Palestine  
from base attempt of heathen servitude.  Spar. 
If it be? O scurvy, if it be! why I'll tell you Goodman King, 'twas I and my master tickled 'em i'faith.  Guy. 
True Sir, you and your Master and I, pray what did you?  Spar. 
Why Master? when you had killed them, I came and cut off their Heads.  King. 
Where wert thou born? or what's thy Country's name,  
brave Christian Knight, may I be bold to ask?  Guy. 
My Native Country is fair England called,  
my name Sir Guy of Warwick hither come  
of holy zeal to see my Saviour's Tomb,  
but seeing it hemmed round about with foes,  
I cut a passage with my Warlike sword,  
meaning to rescue it or lose my Life.  King. 
Heaven prosper thy attempt, lead on Fair Knight,  
God and good Angels still protect our Right.  Guy. 
God and Saint George in Warwick's quarrel Fight.  Exit Omnes. Alarm, Enter Sultan, Zorastes from the Fight. Sultan. 
O speak Zorastes, what Devil or Man is that,  
which in his Fury confounds such heaps of men?  Zorast. 
My Lord I cannot tell, but this I know,  
neither Turk nor Saracen can withstand his blow,  
our Soldiers fly like chaff before the Wind,  
and none can stand against his Conquering sword.  Sultan. 
Canst thou not tell me what he is?  
nor by thy Magic charms confound the slave?  Zorast. 
I can do both as you shall straight behold;  
Bellemoth, Asteroth Ascend.  Spirit. 
Quid me vis?  Zorast. 
I charge thee tell me truly who it is,  
that in his rage confounds and spoils our men.  Spirit. 
'Tis Guy of Warwick that is hither come,  
of holy zeal to see his Saviour Tomb.  Zorast. 
But never shall he see that Marble Grave,  
go Bellemoth, and in a fierce flame,  
hoist him aloft into the vacant Air,  
and throw him headlong into the Neighbouring Seas.  Spirit. 
Abeo.  Zorast. 
No, we fight my Lord, for victory is yours.  Sultan. 
Why? then Zorastes once more to the Fight,  
and Mahomet direct my course Aright.  Exeunt Omnes. Alarm Excursions. Enter Sultan and Zorastes flying, Guy and they Eight, Zorastes Escapeth, Guy taketh Sultan Prisoner. Then Enter the King of Jerusalem. King. 
Command these brawling Drums to cease their noise,  
whilst I salute our Warlike Conqueror,  
renowned Sir Guy of Warwick, whose great name,  
extols fair England with a glorious fame;  
fit in our Throne victorious Englishman,  
our Crown and Sceptre shall be all as free,  
to Guy of Warwick as it is to me.  Guy. 
Far be it from the thought of Englishman,  
to usurp the seat of fair Jerusalem;  
but for those favours you have graced me with  
here I resign unto your princely hands,  
Great Sultan Shamurath, King of babylon.  King. 
Victorious Knight, both in thy words and deeds,  
this proud presumptuous King of Babylon  
which thou surrend rest here as prisoner,  
I freely do deliver back to thee,  
to ransom or dispose as thou thinkest best.  Sultan. 
Let me be ransomed mighty Christian Knight,  
and I will back surrender to thy hands  
all those Towns and Castles I have won,  
Joppa, Samaria and Rich Nazareth,  
with fifty Thousand bars of silver plate,  
to ransom home great Sultan Shamurath.  Guy. 
I scorn thy league and love, proud heathen King,  
I'll make thee now my Vassals underling.  Sultan. 
Scorn'st thou to love the Monarch of the world?  Guy. 
The Monarch of black Hell, should I not scorn,  
the love of Belzebub Leviathan,  Sultan stamps. 
Nay Sir I'll make you tear your Mahomet,  
and stamp and stare.  Enter Sparrow with a Pagan in a Halter. Spar. 
I and swear. too i'faith afore I have done with him; O Master you think I can do nothing, I have catchta Pogon.  Guy. 
How sir I pray?  Spar. 
Why Master after the valiantest manner that could be; for I found him asleep, and having a Halter in my pocket, put it about his Neck instead of a falling band.  Guy. 
But what will you do with him now?  Spar. 
Marry Master, first and come fordermost, I'll hang him two hours by the Clock, then I'll cut off his head because he shall not call me knave for my labour; and when I have done so, I'll let him go his way, nay ye whoreson Pogon I'll tickle ye that's flat; 
The Pogan takes the Halter from his own Neck, and put's it about Sparrows neck, and runs away.  O Master the Pogon has given me two slips for a Tester, but I'll after him, if I catch him again, I'll give him a Cawd east in's Chaps, that's two turns and a wry mouth, and then he may drink to his friends all the day after.  Exit Sparrow. Guy. 
Since that your Majesty hath back delivered,  
this Sultan Shamurath into my hands,  
know the ransom I will set on him,  
shall please our God and all good Christians.  
O blessed Emperor think upon the Cross,  
which is the true badge of our sweet Saviour Christ  
by whose great help we have got Victory.  
Then to enlarge the Fame of Christendom,  
and our great makers ever glorious name,  
Thou Sultan Shamurath with all thy Host,  
shall leave your faith and become Christians;  
do this, from any ransom thou art free,  
and all thy people set at liberty.  Sult. 
We yield consent victorious Conqueror;  
the God you serve is great Omnipotent,  
ruling the day of battle as he please,  
making one hundred kill ten thousand men,  
such were the odds of our battalions;  
therefore for Guy of Warwick's sake,  
we'll trust in Christ, and Mahu clean forsake.  King. 
Then fit we honoured to the Marble Tomb,  
where you shall have received your Christendom,  
you and your Lords shall take a Solemn Oath,  
that all your Empery shall do the like;  
come on brave Guy, for by thy hand is done,  
this Everlasting fame to Christendom.  Exeunt King and Sultan. Guy. 
Go on great Kings, I'll follow presently,  
and now since all those wars are at an end,  
and that my heavenly Maker hath vouchsafed  
to give me victory against his foes,  
in lowly Pilgrimage I vow to come,  
and visit my dear Saviour's blessed Tomb;  
there for an everlasting memory,  
I'll offer up my sword and furniture,  
and here I make a vow in sight of Heaven,  
that henceforth I'll never bear Arms again,  
but spend the residue of my sinful Life,  
in zealous Prayers and repentant Tears,  
for all the follies of my reckless youth.  
Now glorious God with thy Auspicious eye,  
smile on this happy work that's thus begun,  
to enlarge the fame of blessed Christendom.  Exit.  

Actus Quartus.  Enter Time. 
THus Time that in his ceaseless motion,  
controls the hearts of Kings and Emperors,  
hath now converted Sultan Shamurath  
to tread the path of perfect Christendom;  
and now with Bishops, Priests and Patriarches,  
they are returned back to Babylon,  
to christian all that Heathen Nation;  
think this is done, and now again suppose,  
that Guy of Warwick after he had seen  
his Saviour's Tomb, and there had offered up  
as Monuments of lasting Memory;  
his sword, his shield, and Warlike Furniture,  
he there vowed never to bear Arms again,  
and now towards England is returning back.  
Imagine that Sir Raynborn his fair son,  
is grown a man, and hearing of the deeds  
of his great Father, leaveth all his Friends  
to seek him out in Foreign Nations.  
Think this is done, and now again suppose  
that Guy of Warwick now is waxed old,  
and at the length of many a weary step,  
he comes to England, where perforce alas  
he must oppose, his weak decayed limbs  
against the vigour of a Giant's strength;  
for now the Danes in absence of this Lord,  
have set their feet so far on England's ground,  
that they had almost conquered all the Land,  
and to a forced Parley drives the King;  
how they conclude, and by what means agree,  
Time shall make known to you immediately.  Exit Time. Enter Swanus King of Denmark, with him Colbron. Then Athelstone King of England, with him Herod. Athelstone. 
Swanus of Denmark, since to this Interview,  
by thee appointed, we here both are met,  
Speak what canst thou demand from England's Crown?  Swanus. 
Thy Crown and Kingdom is by conquest won,  
yet if thou canst provide a Champion,  
that dares encounter mighty Colbron here;  
if he that Fights for thee, do win the day,  
all Title to thy Crown we'll lay away;  
but if that Colbron gets the day in field,  
the English power to the Danes shall yield;  
and then thy homage and thy Princely Crown,  
will Swanus bear to Denmark as his own.  Athelst. 
I force, perforce must yield to thy demand,  
But had I Guy of Warwick thou shouldst know,  
thy Giant's force he soon would overthrow.  Colbron. 
I tell thee King, no weak-bred arm of thine,  
can shed one drop of mighty Colbrons' blood,  
whilst I have power, or any strength to stand,  
or grasp this Truncheon in my Warlike hand;  
for in my Fury I will take my Foe,  
and fling him higher than the Moons bright sphere,  
then bandying back the Football of my rage,  
cast him down headlong to the Neighbouring Seas.  King. 
No more, no more, to morrow is the day.  Swanus. 
When Might or Right shall bear the Crown away.  Exeunt. Enter Guy being Old. Guy. 
Thus one and Twenty Winters have I been,  
a very stranger to my homebred soil,  
and never set my Feet on English ground;  
in Foreign Countries have I eat my bread,  
and now bring Winter on my Snow white-head;  
which of my Friends that meets me by the way,  
will once imagine that I am Sir Guy,  
that vanquished Knights, and made stout Monsters die.  
O, no not one, will once remember me,  
beauty and youth so little lasting be.  
What place is this, wherein I am Arrived?  
I know it well, 'tis called fair Winchester,  
whereas King Athelstone doth keep his Court,  
the nights far spent, and my age withered limbs,  
are weak, and weary, with long travelling;  
here will I sit and rest myself a while,  He sleepeth. 
and with sweet sleep my wanward thoughts beguile.  Enter Athelstone with Guy, disguised. Lord. 
What means your Majesty, thus carelessly  
to walk abroad without your wont Guard?  Athelst. 
I'll have no Guard, unless thyself with me,  
for know this Night as I lay in my bed,  
a blessed Angel bright and Crystalline  
in golden slumber did appear to me,  
bidding me walk out of my Castle Gate,  
and the first man that I should meet withal,  
choose him my Champion to defend my right,  
which makes me rise thus early for to see  
this heaven bred Champion sent to let us free.  Guy starts from his sleep. Guy. 
Give me my Sword, mine Armour, and my shield,  
that I may Cope with Hybean Hercules;  
the horrid villain in a Centaur's shape  
hath ravished Layda on her wedding day;  
therefore I hand to hand will Cope with him  
were he the Master Monster of the world:  
alas where am I poor distressed Man?  
my troubled mind utters I know not what,  
thou Fight with Monsters, Fight thou with thy grave,  
and for thy sins humble forgiveness crave.  
But out alas, I fear I am o'erheard,  He espies the King walking. 
I will inquire of these the ready way  
that leads directly to your City fair;  
good morrow, and God bless you Gentleman.  Athelst. 
Good morrow Father.  Guy. 
May I be bold to crave which is the way,  
that leads directly unto Winchester?  Athelst. 
This path good Father leads to Winchester.  
O heaven what should I think my dream pretend,  
that willed me choose the first man I should meet;  
but this good Aged man is far unfit,  
yet will I ask his Counsel in this cause  
that may avail me far more than his strength,  
good Father may a stranger be so bold  
to have some private conference with thyself?  Guy. 
Speak on good Sir, and what so e'er it be,  
My truth I give to keep it secretly.  Athelst. 
Then know good Father that I am a King,  
my Courts beset with many Enemies,  
and this last night as I lay in my bed  
a Heavenly Vision did appear to me,  
bidding me rise up straight and walk abroad;  
and the first man that I should meet withal,  
choose him my Champion to defend my right;  
thou Aged Father art the first I meet,  
but he that doth maintain this Fight,  
is a most monstrous Giant huge and strong,  
and thou art feeble, weak and impotent,  
yet thy Counsel Father, what I were best to do?  Guy. 
Do as Heaven will, ye do my Gracious Lord,  
if by the all foreseeing power thereof,  
I am appointed for to do this deed;  
though I be old, yet you shall well perceive,  
I'll not give back nor yield one foot of ground;  
what though he be a Giant that maintains  
this deadly combat? ere I'll turn my face,  
I'll leave my body breathless in this place.  Athelst. 
O how glad's my very Soul to see  
a youthful mind in Aged Livery!  
come Reverend Father, for thou now shalt be,  
a King's companion that will honour thee.  Guy. 
Go on great King, an old man once will try,  
the Vigour of a churlish Giant's strength;  
though he be huge and strong with whom I Fight,  
my God is just and still maintains the right.  Exeunt. Enter Swanus and Colbron. Swanus. 
Now Colbron rouse thy Giant's setled-limbs,  
for all our blessed hopes on thee we lay,  
thinking to bear the English Crown away.  Colbr. 
I tell thee King thou troublest me with doubts,  
for half their Kingdom is already won  
by Colbron and the Danish Conquerors,  
upon the rest I will sharp vengeance take.  
Where are these faiat-hearts? O that they were come,  
that I might finish up a day of Doom!  Swanus. 
I hear them coming, therefore let's prepare,  
to bid them welcome to a bloody feast,  Enter Athelstone with Guy and others. 
for I perceive they all are resolute.  Athelstone. 
Swanus of Denmark, see we keep our word,  
and come to try our right by dint of Sword.  Swa. 
Bring forth thy Champion.  Athelst. 
Here he stands prepared.  Swanus. 
O, who? he alas poor silly man,  
give him a pair of Beads to pray upon.  Athelstone. 
Scorn him not Swanus, for this old man's hand,  
against thy mighty Giant's force shall stand.  Colbron. 
Must Colbron Fight with such a withered Ghost,  
a very shrimp, a worm, a gnat, a fly,  
I scorn him and will spurn him at my feet.  Guy. 
Leave of thy braves, blaspheming heathen dog,  
for God whose quarrel I do take in hand  
will add fresh strength to these my withered limbs,  
these aged sinews that are weak and old,  
he can renew with monster conquering strength;  
therefore to show, I do not fear thy threats,  
sound an Alarm let's begin the Fight,  
for with my Palmer's staff I'll cope with thee.  Athelst. 
Thou shalt not hazard so thy honoured age,  
begird thyself with these wars Ornaments.  Guy. 
What shall I do? unhappy wretched man,  
for when I left the wars of Palestine;  
I made a vow even in the sight of Heaven  
never to Fight with Sword or Shield again;  
but I must break that vow, or leave this Land,  
my Native Country to the violent hand;  
of damned Usurpers, which shall never be,  
I'll break my Oath, and sweet Heaven pardon me.  
Here do I take this Sword into my hand,  
and buckle fast this shield unto my Arm,  
although I know it is no armed hand  
that can prevail, but Heaven where truth doth stand;  
and now thou great Arch-guyder of the world,  
that saved Daniel in the Lion's Den,  
look down on me, with thy all-pitious Eyes,  
and by my Hand vanquish thy Enemies,  
that all may say in Glory to thy name,  
that little David hath Goliath slain;  
St. George for England, let's begin the Fight,  
Angels by me defend fair England's right.  Colbron. 
In Mahound's name I do thee here defy,  
for I will crush thy bones immediately.  They Fight, Guy killeth Colbron. Athelst. 
St. George, St. George, England hath prevailed,  
and Denmark and his Champion now are quailed.  Swa. 
Mahu Confound that old man's hellish Arm,  
that hath wrought England's good, and Denmark's harm;  
now force perforce, to Denmark we must go,  
ne'er had the Danes so great an overthrow.  Exit Swanus. Athelst. 
Since by thy means most Reverend Aged Man,  
I and my Country are delivered,  
from the usurping Danish Tyrants power,  
I conjure thee by that holy vow  
which thou didst make in taking on this weed,  
of thy religious holy pilgrimage;  
tell me thy name, and what thy Countries called,  
which was so happy as to Foster thee.  Guy. 
Upon Condition that your Majesty,  
will vow to keep close what I shall reveal,  
I will resolve your princely mind at full.  Athelst. 
Speak freely then, for what so e'er it be,  
upon my word I'll keep it secretly.  Guy. 
I take your princely word than know great King,  
I am your Subject and in England born,  
and many favours have received of you,  
past the deserts of my unworthiness;  
for which it glads my soul that e'er I die,  
I have done some service for your Majesty.  
When I was young, men knew me by my looks,  
but now the hand of age hath changed me so,  
that not one man doth Guy of Warwick know.  Athelst. 
So said my soul, when I first saw thy face,  
welcome, O welcome, to thy Native soil,  
which thou hast freed from ruin and from spoil;  
and ten times welcome art thou unto me,  
thy absence long hath wrought my misery,  
But tell me, hast thou seen fair Phillis yet?  Guy. 
My Lord I have not, nor I do not know,  
whether my beloved Phillis lives or no.  Athelst. 
I can assure thee that thy Phillis lives,  
but her old Father Rohon he is dead;  
Sir Rainborn thy courageous hearted Son,  Guy weeps. 
hath been these two years for to seek thee out,  
why weepst thou Guy?  Guy. 
I weep for joy to hear this happy news,  
hath Guy of Warwick then a Kingly Son?  
and is fair Phillis still in perfect health?  Athelst. 
She is good Guy, and I'll send speedy post,  
to Warwick Castle for to fetch her hither.  Guy. 
O I beseech your grace to give me leave,  
an end of this my Pilgrimage to make;  
for when I took my way Palestine,  
I made a vow for seven and twenty years  
to keep myself unknown from all my Friends;  
full one and twenty are expired and gone,  
six more being past, I from my vow am free,  
and then to all my friends disclosed I'll be.  Athelst. 
I must consent, since thou will have it so,  
but at the six years' end I'll come to thee,  
and with me I will bring so rich a Train,  
as shall in state, bring Warwick home again;  
till than I leave thee to thy sweet content,  
willing my life for thy good be spent.  Exit King. Guy. 
Farewell my Liege, Farewell my Sovereign,  
and now poor Guy, since thou art left alone,  
think on thy Maker's mighty love to thee,  
who in thy youth did make thee feared of all,  
and by thine age hath wrought a monstrous fall;  
he hath preserved thy true and faithful Wife,  
whom thou didst love more dearer than thy Life;  
to her I'll go as fast as I can hie,  
but she'll not think that Warwick is so nigh:  
ah Phillis, now thy Lord is waxed old,  
who when thou sawest him last was stout and bold;  
yet as I am, I'll sek my Phillis Face,  
if he that made me gives me Life and space,  
I'll tell her tidings of mine own estate,  
and fetch my food at my own Castle Gate;  
And for six years which I alone must lead.  
Phillis must feed her unknown Lord with bread.  Exit.  

Actus Quintus.  Enter Time. 
THus Guy to Warwick Castle now is gone,  
where hearing of the Alms fair Phillis gives  
to Palmers, that do daily pass that way;  
he thither goes, and at her hand receives  
his daily food; and being unknown,  
he tells her tidings of his own estate;  
and in a forest not far from the place,  
a mile distant called Arden wood,  
with his own hands he builds himself a Cave.  
What follows now of Rainborn his fair Son,  
Sir Herodes meeting, and of their return,  
and what to Guy of Warwick doth befall,  
sit pleased a while and Time shall show you all.  Exit Time. Enter Guy Solus. Guy. 
Now am I come in sight of my fair Home,  
that's called Guye's Cross, for that I did erect,  
before I went to fair Jerusalem;  
here was I wont to sit and view my Land,  
and eke my Castle that on Tiptoes stand,  
to overpeer this part of Warwick shire.  Enter two Palmers. 1 Palmer. 
Come hither, let's a little mend our pace,  
for we are near to Warwick Castle now;  
where I have heard of late fair Phillis dwells,  
who gives Alms to all that pass that way.  2 Pal. 
Good brother let's go thither presently;  
but stay, methinks here sits an Aged man,  
let's ask him if he'll go along with us?  1 Pal. 
With all my heart;  
all happiness attend you Aged Father.  Guy. 
The like I wish to you good gentle Friends.  1 Pal. 
May we entreat you go along with us,  
to Warwick Castle, where fair Phillis dwells,  
who giveth Alms to all such as we are.  Guy. 
With all my heart, I'll go along with you.  Enter Phillis, and a Servant with Bread and Wine, 1 Pal. 
See where she comes out of her Castle Gate.  Both Palmers kneel and pray. 
Heaven bless fair Phillis for this deed,  
and send Sir Guy of Warwick home with speed.  Phillis. 
Amen, Amen, come give them a reward,  
there's Bread and Wine, eat and refresh yourselves;  
and there's some Money to relieve your wants,  
and pray for Guy of Warwick and his Friends.  
But wherefore stands this Aged man so sad?  
What art thou Father?  Guy. 
A poor distressed Pilgrim gentle Lady.  Phill. 
More welcome art thou unto Warwick's Wife.  
for in a Pilgrim's weed my Lord is gone,  
even to the furthest part of Christendom.  
But tell me Father, hast thou travelled far?  Guy. 
Lady I have, and seen my Saviour's blessed Sepulchre.  Phillis. 
In all thy travels didst thou never hear  
of Guy of Warwick, and his Warlike Deeds?  Guy. 
I have both heard, and been with him,  
even at the siege of fair Jerusalem;  
where he performed such deeds of Chivalry,  
that by his means the City was preserved,  
and Sultan Shamurath with all his Host,  
was overcome and holy vanquished.  Phillis. 
Let me embrace thee in my tender Arms,  
and kiss thy Aged Cheek, for until now,  
of my dear Lord, I never heard so much;  
reach me a stool, I prithee Father sit.  Guy. 
Here on the ground I'll sit, 'tis earth and dust,  
from it I had my Birth, to it I must.  Phillis. 
Give me some Bread? I prithee Father Eat.  Guy. 
Give me Brown Bread, for that's a Pilgrims Meat.  Phillis. 
Reach me some Wine, good Father taste of this.  Guy. 
Give me cold Water that my comfort is,  
I tell ye Lady your great Lord and I,  
have thought ourselves as happy as a King,  
to drink the water of a Crystal spring.  Phillis. 
O do not break my sorrow beaten heart,  
with sharp remembrance of his miseries,  
that is more dear to me then all the world;  
but gentle Father for this happy news,  
which thou hast told me of my beloved Lord;  
if in my Castle thou wilt stay with me,  
for Warwick's sake I will make much of thee.  Guy. 
I thank you Lady, but I cannot stay,  
my haste in Pilgrimage calls me away;  
therefore in duty here I take my leave.  Phillis. 
O stay a while, and do not go so soon,  
for I am loath to leave thy company;  
this poor reward of Phillis shalt thou take,  
which I do give thee for my Warwick's sake;  
so far thee well, whatsoever the cause should be,  
my heart is full of grief to part with thee.  Exit Phillis and her Servant. Guy. 
And mine of sorrow and deep misery.  1 Pal. 
Come Father, will you along with us?  Guy. 
Go on good friends, I follow presently,  Ex. Palmers. 
as fast as weakened age will give me leave.  
And now poor Guy fall prostrate on thy knees,  
and thank the God that gave thee such a Wife;  
Phillis when thou art dead and laid in grave,  
few such true Women will fair England have.  
Now will I hie me unto Arden wood,  
there in a Rock of stone I'll build a Cave;  
and of my Phillis fair, whom I love best,  
I'll fetch my daily Food, and thus in rest  
till full fix years be brought unto an end,  
unknown to any, I my life will spend.  Exit Guy. Enter Rainborne Solus. Rain. 
Now that the posting Chariot of the Son,  
hath tired Phoebus and his wanton steeds,  
the dusky Clouds hath closed up the day,  
and Hesperus is left to guide the world;  
Here Rainborne rest thyself within these woods,  
and give thy weary limbs some time of stay,  
until that Phoebus chase the night away;  
then will I buckle on my Arms again,  
and never cease pursuit till I have found  
my Warlike Father, the renowned Sir Guy,  He sits down. 
which I will do, or in this journey die.  Enter Sparrow. 
A Pilgrimage quotha, marry here's a Pilgrimage indeed, why? I have lost my Master, and have been this fortnight in a Wood, where I have eat nothing but Hips and Haws, that ye may make Fiddle strings of my Guts they are so thin: but I am served well enough; for when I was at home with my old Father, where I had my belly full of Beef and Bag-pudding, but I must be Travelling with a Pestilence.  He espies Rainborne. 
But stay, who have we here? some Traveller I hold my Life on't, I care not greatly if I knock out his Brains, and then take away all his Money, yet sure he has not much, he has such fine  on; for commonly now adays our Gallants in their Silks and Velvets have the Devil dancing in their great Hose; for there's never a cross to hinder him, therefore I'll wake him sure, Whoop who, etc.  He Hollows in his Ear. Rainborne. 
How now Sirrah, what are you?  Sparrow. 
A Curstian, what art thou?  Rainborne. 
Art thou a Christian? prithee where were't born?  Sparrow. 
I'faith Sir I was born in England at Stratford upon Aven in Warwickshire.  Rainborne. 
Were't born in England? what's thy name?  Sparrow. 
Nay I have a fine finical name, I can tell ye, for my name is Sparrow; yet I am not no house Sparrow, nor no hedge Sparrow, nor no peaking Sparrow, nor no sneaking Sparrow, but I am a high mounting jofty minded Sparrow, and that Parnell knows well enough, and a good many more of the pretty Wenches of our Parish i'faith.  Rainborne. 
Very well Sir, what make you here in these Countries?  Sparrow. 
Marry I have lost a stray Master, can you tell me any tidings of him?  Rainborne. 
What was thy Master's name?  Sparrow. 
My Master's Name, why you would not hear it would ye?  Rainborne. 
Yes sir that I would.  Sparrow. 
Well he has a tickling name I can tell ye.  Rain. 
Howsoever let me hear it.  Spar. 
Yes you shall hear it, he is called the most Courageous, Bravagious, Contagious; but do you hear young Gentleman, have ye ever another suit of apparel ne'er hand.  Rain. 
Why Sir?  Spar. 
Why truly all will not be well with ye if you hear my Master's name; therefore I would wish you take heed what ye do, for you'll perfume that, so that ye will have need of another.  Rain. 
Sirrah leave your prating, and let me hear it.  Spar. 
Nay ye shall hear it, he is called the most Renowned, Profounded, Compounded; but hark ye, have ye ever a clean shirt about ye?  Rain. 
Why Sir?  Spar. 
Why? I know if you hear my Master's name you'll blow your Nose backward, and then your Laundress will call you Sloven.  Rain. 
Why ye base Peasant, shall I not hear his Name?  Spar. 
O Lord Sir, ye are deceived! I am no Pheasant, though I be a Sparrow, yet you shall hear my Master's name, he is called Sir Guy of Warwick.  Rain. 
Sir Guy of Warwick, my Renowned Father.  Spar. 
Thy Father, thy Halter, indeed when I came out of England I left a Wench pretty and plump, thou may'st be my Son, if thou be'st, kneel down and ask me blessing, and I'll give thee two pence.  Rain. 
Away you base slave.  Spar. 
Why dost thou think scorn to ask me blessing?  Rain. 
I Sir that I do.  Spar. 
Then I think scorn to give thee my two pence.  Rain 
Sir leave this talk and tell me certainly,  
where brave Sir Guy at this time doth remain,  
and with rich gifts I will requite thy pains.  Spar. 
Will ye so, why the last time I saw him he and I were going towards England, and in the midst of a great wood I lost him, but I had better have been hanged or some worse mischance come to me, for I am like never to get-home as long as I live.  Rain. 
Nay fear not that, for if thou'lt stay with me,  
for Warwick's sake I will make much of thee.  Spar. 
But are you Sir Guy of Warwick's Son?  Rain. 
Upon my Knightly word I am.  Spar. 
Faith I doubt you are some lying Hangman; for indeed we Travellers may lie by Authority; but I'll tell ye what I'll do, stay you here till I go into England, and ask your Mother, if she says so, I'll come again and then I'll dwell with you.  Rain. 
Nay stay Sir, for it is above a Thousand mile into England.  Spar. 
A Thousand mile, nay sure I'll take your word before I'll go so far to try the matter, but if I should be content to dwell with you, what diet will you allow me?  Rain. 
Why Sirrah? to your Dinner you shall have a Pomgarnate.  Spar. 
A pound of Garlic, why I never eat Garlic in all my Life;  Rain. 
I say a Pomegarnate, which is almost like an Apple.  Spar. 
Apples to my Dinner, and what to my Supper? quickly, quickly.  Rainborne. 
Why to your Supper you shall have a Couple of Olives.  Spar. 
Nay that's not much amiss, for that is two legs of Beef stuffed with Parsley.  Rain. 
You are deceived Sirrah, for an Olive is no bigger than a Plum.  Spar. 
How Apples to my Dinner, and Plums to my Supper, O my belly, my belly, my belly; why Master you have killed me already, but I'll tell ye how ye must use me; at Eight of Clock you must call me up; but ye must not make too much haste, for I must have half an hours scratching before I can put on my Shirt; then betwixt nine and ten I must be at breakfast, and from eleven to one at Dinner, than I must go to sleep till three, than I must have my Afternoons Nunching, then at five of the Clock my Supper; and then what work you will all the day after, but you must not feed me with Apples and Plums, for I must have my fill five times a day of Beef, Brews, Bag-Puddings and Pies. Oh how my Teeth waters to think on them, besides odd bits in a Corner; and if you'll deal thus with me, I'll dwell with you, and do all this that I have promised you.  Rain. 
That's eat your Victuals and sleep.  Spar. 
Why aye and something else too, though it be no great manners to speak on't.  Rain. 
But art thou sure my Father is gone for England?  Spar. 
Am I sure? why I tell ye, he is in England long ago.  Rain. 
Why then in haste I'll post to England now.  
but I'll not tarry in it, nor else where,  
unless I find my Warlike Father there;  
Come Sparrow follow me.  Spar. 
Do you hear young Master, though you be my Master, yet I am your Elder, and therefore your better, and always while ye live, learn to let your betters go afore ye.  Exeunt. Enter Guy Solus. Guy. 
Thus have I almost brought unto an end,  
the tedious time of my long Pilgrimage,  
for of my seven and twenty years remains  
only seven days to be accomplished.  
The longest Summers day comes to an end;  
The dials point though none perceive it stir,  
in length of time creeps round about the same;  
even so this long thought time is almost spent,  
only seven days to come, and I am free,  
and then to all my Friends disclosed I'll be.  Enter an Angel. Angel. 
Thou blessed Champion of the highest Heaven,  
be firm in faith, and here my message out,  
for my great Master sends thee word by me,  
that seven days being passed thou sure shalt die;  
tears change not fate, poor pilgrim now farewel  
go meet more joys than Angels Tongues can tell.  Exit Angel. Guy. 
Welcome O welcome be thy glorious will,  
thou great Archfactor of the Firmament.  
O hadst thou let me lain but one day more,  
to have revealed myself unto my Wife,  
my dear, dear Phillis, who languisheth in pain,  
hoping to see her aged Lord again.  
Then had I been contented for to die,  
So am I now, thou must be pleased, not I  
Yet Guy bethink thee what thou hast to do,  
wilt thou not make thyself known to thy Wise?  
but thus unknown to any lose thy Life?  
where no man ne'er shall hear of thee at all,  
nor give thy body Christian burial;  
Yes, I will hie me strair to Phillis Gate,  
and there reveal myself and my estate,  
and my dear Phillis, whom I loved best,  
shall close mine eyes, and bring my soul to rest.  
But wilt thou break that vow of sanctity,  
which thou didst make to him, that hath made thee;  
and seek to contradict his holy will,  
that hath showed such great mercies to thee still:  
O God forbidden! That vow true kept shall be,  
I'll commit all to him that saved me.  
and when I die, instead of Tomb or Grave,  
I'll leave my body in my stone cold Cave.  
Thither I will, and spend my short sweet days,  
in contemplation and in holy prayers;  
I poor old Guy go hie and hast thee thither,  
for life and Pilprimage must end together.  Exit. Enter Sparrow Solus. Sparrow. 
Ha', ha', the world's well amended with me by’r lady, why? I am as plumb as a pudding now, for ever since I came to my young Master, I have been so pust up with good cheer, that Barley puddings are no meat, nor Cheesecakes, nor Custards, no banqueting stuff with me; for as soon as ever we ca, me into England, my young Master goes to the Court presently where he and I were Counterpained with such implements as passes; I am tossed up and down like a Shuttlecock in every body's mouth; for who but Master Sparrow, the greatest Traveller that has been at cost twenty Nobles and Jericho, and I cannot tell ye where; but for all that I was served a Sluttish trick to day, for my Master being bidden to great a Gentleman's house to din ne'er, took me along with him to wait at the Table; well as they were at Dinner, the Serving men as they took off the meat set it before the fire to keep it warm for themselves: I seeing the good cheer standing in battle Ray, and having not broke my fast of all day, I began to draw near the fire, and look over my shoulder upon the victuals, at last I spied a Fat leg of Pork; O how my Teeth did water to look upon't! I had not stood long, but seeing every body busy, I whipped the leg of Pork into my Pocket, and stood very mannerly with my hands at my back, as though I had done nothing; but it was not long,  the Fat Pork with the heat of the Fire began to fry out of my Slops, & all the dogs in the House came Snukering and licking about my Breeches, and not content with that, but one unmannerly Cur above all the rest, popped his Nose into my Pocket, snatched out the leg of Pork, & tore away all the tone side of my Breeches, that I was said to go out edgling like a Crab i'faith; put I'll ne'er steal Pork again while I live, I'll have one bit of Mutton whatsome're comes on't i'faith.  Exit Sparrow. Enter Guy being in his Cave, to him the Angel. Ange'l. 
Now Guy of Warwick is accomplished,  
the full effect of all thy Pilgrimage,  
then rise and pray, thy sins may be forgiven,  
for Angels wait to bear thy soul to Heaven.  Exit Angel. Guy. 
God's will be done, I am resolved to die,  
and have asked mercy at the hands of him  
that gave me Life, and now will take the same.  
O what a precious soul hath sinful man!  
that in itself alone does comprehend  
the figure, state, and lineaments of Heaven,  
yet cannot measure nor define itself;  
so when that all great workmen of the world,  
had framed man's flesh out of a clod of clay,  
and all the Creatures of the Universal world,  
of the same mould, to whom his very word  
gave present life only in man's breast,  
that vild ambitious sinful heap of dross;  
he breathed his own breath, even the breath of heaven,  
that is the glorious soul we now possess,  
which is immortal and can never die.  
Yet he that late was framed of Mire and filth,  
placed in a glorious state of innocence,  
was not content, but strived to be as good  
as his great maker, who could with one word,  
throw him down headlong to the deepest Hell;  
yet he in Mercy, Love, and mere good will,  
did grant him pardon for his soul offence;  
and seeing him unable to perform  
his blessed will, did send his own dear Son  
to pay his ransom with his precious blood,  
and to redeem that soul which sinful man,  
had forfeited to Satan, Death and Hell;  
and for a death damned cursed and unpure,  
he gave him life eternal to endure;  
which life eternal, grant sweet Christ to me,  
that in Heavens joys I may thy glory see.  Enter Rainborne and Herod of Arden with Sparrow. Rain. 
Go good Sir Herod Post and meet the King,  
who now is coming with his warlike Troops,  
to meet my Father and to honour him,  
in his return from fair Jerusalem.  Herod. 
High you to Warwick Castle to your Mother,  
tell her this happy news of his return,  
whose absence long hath made her weep and mourn.  
Come Sparrow you shall go along with me.  Spar. 
Shall I go meet the King too Master?  Rain. 
I Sir, you shall attend upon my friend.  Spar. 
But I pray tell me one thing, is the King a Man or a Woman?  Rain. 
He is a Man.  Spar. 
Well, I shall never love him while I live, for a Cousin of his, the King of Clubs made me lose six pots of Ale, at Mother Bunches i'faith.  Rainborne. 
Well Sir go along with him.  Exit Sparrow and Herod. 
Now Rainborne glut thy heart with wished for joy,  
O how it glads my soul, that I shall see,  
my dear loved Father once before I die!  
The people flock together all on heaps,  
Clapping their hands, and crying out for joy,  
that Guy of Worwick is come again,  
and all report it of a certainty,  
that in the dreadful day of Winchester,  
he vanquished Colbron in a single fight.  Guy groans. 
But stay, methinks I hear a doleful sound  
of a departing man, and see here lies  
an Aged Pilgrim, at the point of death;  
what art thou Father? prithee speak to me.  Guy. 
A poor age-withered Creature gentle Son,  
that straight must yield my due unto my grave,  
for age and sickness now my life will have.  Rain. 
Alas good Father thou art sick indeed,  
yet if thou canst but lean upon my Arm,  
I'll lead thee to a place where thou shalt be  
comforted and attended carefully.  Guy. 
I thank thee Son, but cannot leave this place;  
yet if thy thoughts be equal with thy words,  
let me request one kindness at thy hands,  
it is the last that ever I shall make.  Rain. 
Speak freely Father what soe'er it be,  
thy will shall be performed immediately.  Guy. 
Then unto Warwick Castle high thee strait,  
inquire for Phillis Guy of Warwick's Wife,  
deliver to her this same ring of Gold,  
tell her an old door Pilgrim at death's door,  
did send it to her as a recompense,  
for her good deeds, to him and many more,  
since her dear Lord away from her did go.  Ramb. 
I'll give it her, as I have hope of Heaven,  
and bring her with me hither presently;  
that with sweet balms she may comfort thee,  
so far thee well, sweet heaven thy comfort be.  Exit. Guy. 
Go on in peace, my peace with heaven is made,  
thou goest to carry such a doleful gift,  
as with the sight will kill my Phillis heart;  
for when I took my leave to go from her,  
that ring she gave me as a pledge of love;  
which if I see quoth she, and thou not by,  
Phillis will grieving weep, and weeping die.  
O did she know her Warwick's death so nigh,  
and he so ne'er in a cold Cave to lie;  
she soon would come and take her last adve  
of him, whose love to her hath still been true;  
but shall I die before I see her face?  
I feel death seizing on my heart already;  
O my sweet Saviour strengthen me this hour,  
and in my weakness show thy heavenly power,  
I come, I come, to thee sweet Christ I fly,  
save my poor soul, let my vile body die.  He dies. Enter Phillis and Rainborne. Phillis. 
O hast thee Son, and bring me to the man  
that sent this Ring, alas we are undone!  
it is thy Father Boy, good Rainborne run.  Rain. 
You tell me wonders that amaze my soul,  
it cannot be my Father that should lie,  
in his own Country and his wife so nigh.  Phillis. 
This is the Ring I gave him, which quoth he,  
nothing but death shall ever part from me.  Rain. 
See where he lies even yielding up the ghost.  Phillis. 
If it be he, he hath a mould Wart underneath his Ear.  She looks under his Ear, and cries out, they both kneel to him. Rain. 
View him good Mother, satisfy your mind.  Phillis. 
It is my Husband, Oh my dearest Lord!  Rain. 
O my dear Father speak unto thy Son,  
but he is dead, and we are quite undone.  Phillis. 
O gentle Warwick, speak one word to me,  
I am thy wife that seven and twenty years  
bewailed thy absence even with woeful Tears;  
speak, speak, if any spark of life remains,  
I'll think one look enough for all thy pains.  Rain. 
See Mother now he looks upon us both,  
and see how fast he holds my Fingers now;  
something he wants, behold he maketh signs,  
that we with our two hands should close his eyes.  
Now it is done, see how he faints and dies.  Phillis. 
O break my heart, that I with him may die,  
that in one grave our bodies both may lie.  Ram. 
The King is coming, good mother be content;  
O heavy is my heart, with too much grief is spent.  Enter Athelstone, Herod with others. Athelst. 
Sir Herod of Arden this is the time and place,  
that I appointed for to meet Sir Guy,  
and do him honour as he hath deserved,  
but yet we have not heard where he remains.  Herod. 
See where Sir Rainborne and fair Phillis sits,  
and in their Arms an aged Pilgrim lies.  Rain. 
And famous Warwick in this Pilgrim dies;  
see mighty King, and worthy Lords behold  
the flesh and blood of him, that when he lived,  
was the most famous Knight that e'er drew sword,  
or clad his loins in complete Arms of steel.  Athelst. 
O you have broke my heart with this sad news!  
is't possible my dearest friend Sir Guy,  
should end his life, in such an unconth place.  
O cruel fate! O woeful destiny!  
arise fair Lady, sorrow helpeth not;  
for if that sighs, or tears, could aught avail,  
to bring his Heaven bred soul to Earth again;  
my Kingly tears should day and night be spent,  
to fetch it thence, but Heaven doth that prevent.  Rain. 
Your Tears, nor mine, dear Mother can prevail,  
nothing at all, Heaven hath appointed this;  
Angels conduct his soul to endless bliss.  Athelst. 
Rainborne 'tis true, sweet Phillis weep no more,  
let's comfort all ourselves with thinking thus,  
we must to him, but he'll ne'er come to us;  
but in the honour of his worthy name,  
the shield-bone of the bore of Calladon,  
shall be hanged up at Coventries great Gate;  
the Ribs of the Dun Cow of Dunsmore Heath,  
in Warwick Castle for a monument;  
and on his Cave where he hath left his life,  
a stately Hermitage I will erect,  
in honour of Sir Guy of Warwick's Name,  
pass mournfully along, we'll follow all  
his bloodless Corpse, and heavy funeral.  Four takes the body of Guy, the rest follow. Enter Time with the Epilogue. 
THus Time concludes this dolent History,  
And ends this Scene with GUY of Warwick's Death;  
So what is it but Time can bring to pass?  
Time lays up Treasure where there's Virtue scant,  
And gives the silly Fool when wise Men want:  
Both Poor and Rich confess my power Divine,  
And every one doth say, make much of Time,  
Through the whole World, while the world was Time rangeth,  
And 'tis men's manners, and not, Time that changeth.  
O you whose Souls look for Eternity,  
Rest in the peace of perpetuity,  
And kindly grant to this request of mine;  
For he's but young that writes of this Old Time.  
Therefore if this your Eyes or Ears may please,  
He means to show you better things than these.  Exit Time.  
Finis GUY of WARWICK.