PALLANTUS AND EUDORA A tragedy. Written by Mr. HENRY KILLIGREW.  MART. Victurus Genium debet habere liber. 
LONDON. Printed for John Hardesty at the Black-Spread-Eagle in Duck-lane, 1653.   

The Publisher to the Reader.  
WHen this Play came first abroad into the World, it found the approbation of the most Excellent Persons, and best Masters of this Kind of Writing which were in that time, if there were ever better in any time; Ben. Johnson being then alive, who gave a testimony of this Piece even to be envied. Nor do I know more than One Objection, that was ever made against it, Which was, The indecorum that appeared to Some in the Part of Cleander, who being represented a Person of seventeen years of age, is made to speak words, that would better suit with the age of thirty. But the Answer that was given to One, that cried out upon the monstruousness and impossibility of this thing, the first day of the Presentation of this Play at the Blackfriars, by the Lord Viscount Faulkland, may satisfy All Others; and if the considerableness of the Answer, and Answerer, be duly weighed, may serve no less for an Ornament and Patronage to the Author. The passage was thus. This Noble Person, having for some time suffered the unquiet, and impertinent Dislikes of this Auditor, when he made this last Exception, forbore him no longer, but (though he were one he knew not) told him, Sir, 'tis not altogether so monstrous and Impossible, for One of Seventeen years to speak at such a Rate, when He that made him speak in that manner, and writ the whole Play, was Himself no Older. I shall say no more of the Worth, or former Opinion had of this Piece, it being in hand, to show what it Merits, or Merits not.  
A few things I have to add, concerning my present Publication, which are these. That this Play never saw the light in its true Shape till this day: a former Impression there has been of it, but One, not only deformed with all the Errors of an Uncorrected press, but what might else proceed from a false and imperfect Transcript; the original copy being then (together with the Writer of it) in Italy. Who was so far from consenting to the printing of his Book at that time, that he had not then Corrected those parts of it, which he was forced to pass over with less care, by reason of the hasty calling of it out of his hands, by the Entertainment for which it was desig'nd. So that (I may say) the former Impression is no better than a Corrupted Fragment, or Foul Draught, of what this Play was intended, and differing so much from what it now is, that if the Corrections, Expungings, and Additions, be considered, it is almost the one half otherwise. This hath made me likewise impose a New Name upon it: for it is a Creature now wholly at my Disposition, and belonging to me, not as to a plagiary, but a Susceptor, or Foster-father, that has taken up this Child long since Ejected by the True Parent. And my desire, is to have it show as little Affinity and Resemblance as is possible to its Anti-type; whose Prejudices it can no way better remove from itself, than by showing them False, and Despising them.  MART. Multum crede mihi, refert, a fonte bibatur Quae fluit, an pigro quae stupet unda latu.  

The Persons of the Play  


The King a Usurper.  
Timeus his son.  


Polyander  
Minetius   two Lords.  
Comastes a buffonish Lord.  


Coracinus  
Argestes   Servants to Timeus.  


Harpastes  
Melampus   two villains.  
Cleander the true King of Crete, a Youth.  
Clearchus a stranger prince.  
Pallantus first Prince of Crete, disguised.  


Aratus  
Phronimus  
Eurylochus   three great Lords.  
Haimantus admiral of Clearchus Fleet.  
Acates Tutor to Cleander.  
Flamen.  
Poet.  
Waiters.  
Guard.  
soldiers.  
Eudora Sister to Timeus.  
Rodia her Woman.  
2. Ladies  
Hianthe Sister to Cleander.  
Melissa her Woman.  
2. ladies'    
Chorus of Priests and People.  
The Scene CRETE   

PALLANTUS and EUDORA A TRAGEDY.  

[ACTUS, 1. SCENA, 1.]  A Banquet set out. Loud music. Enter the King, Comastes, Aratus, Polyander, Phronimus, Eurylochus, and Menetius. King. 
NO happiness like the Fools, Comastes?  Com. 
No, none Sir. he's mirth itself, and the cause  
Of it in others. They say, all pleasure  
Is a shadow; then that which we enjoy,  
Is only the shadow of a shadow,  
Hardly the Picture of what he embraces.  
Our delights are faint, thwarted with fears,  
Disgusted by the conscience, and after  
An hour of pleasure, succeeds a week of  
Repentance: in which time we live by Rule,  
And not by Nature; laugh not, though the jest  
Be good; nor rage, though at a just cause;  
But sickly whisper out our sayings,  
As if they were our last. When the Fool lusts  
With his whole soul too, and sins till he's weary;  
Knows no conscience, but his Want-that-way, nor  
Remorse, but Disability.  King: 
Ha, ha, ha.  Com. 
Nature never showed her liberality  
More, than to those she was sparing of her  
Best gifts to. She houses Wisdom in a  
Body full of decays, such as requires  
Her whole strength to bear up the ruin;  
Measures his legs with the Spiders, gives him  
Pale, and wan looks, scarce altered from the earth  
He was made of. Where to the idiot, she  
Bestows a body, equal with the Bulks  
Of Trees, and arms as thunder-proof, makes him  
A strong, a large, and healthy Fool.  King 
Ha, ha, ha.  Ara. 
Fit Lectures for such a scholar.  King 
Well Comastes,  
Thou shalt not want for a Coat, if that will do't.  Com. 
Send me a Mind too with it, and you have not  
A greater present for your Neighbour-Princes.  King 
Come my Lords let's sit. And fill up our Cups,  
Make them like our joys, still full and flowing.  
Thus it should be my Lords in a state that  
Knows no troubles: let unhappy Princes,  
Whom losles do afflict, and fears a ffright,  
Make Annual-Feasts; but we whose even affairs  
Do follow one another, and do keep  
Their just Periods, though the reins are loose,  
And their Guide sleep, seeming rather so to  
Have fallen-out, than so caused: each day shall  
Be a Triumph, each hour a Feast.  Ara, 
We may chance to find one out for Funerals.  
aside  King 
A health to all, and a long peace.  Com. 
You are melancholy Aratus.  Ara. 
You are rude Comastes, and let me tell you—  Comastes strikes Arates on the shoulder. Poly. 
O let his lordship alone. He's one of those  
Which say their prayers backward for the State.  Ara. 
You are the Foxes that thrive by it.  Phro. 
Aratus your anger is unseasonable, And the King marks it.  King 
How now Aratus,  
What's the matter? Our Table should know no frowns,  
And then least, when we ourselves forbears 'em.  Ara. 
Royal Sir, I ask your pardon. He waked me  
Something rudely, and got a froward answer.  King 
What, all dead? Fill another round, our Wine  
Moves not. Here Polyander, to thee—  
What think'st thou of Comaste's happiness?  Poly. 
I think Sir, 'tis as dull, as foolish.  
There cannot be a sense of pleasure, where  
There is so little sense. Greatness is the Centre  
Of all happiness, and felicity,  
Like our Lands at first, is tied to the Crown.  
King's comes near unto the Gods, and are like them  
Both in power and pleasure; do command all,  
Enjoy all, are miserable only in having  
Of too much, and wanting what to wish for.  
Theirs is the dazzling happiness. 'Tis idle  
Therefore to prefer Private joys before  
The Crown-pleasures. The King may throw by his  
Greatness when he please, and be poorly happy;  
But the beggar will ne'er sigh unto a sceptre.  King 
Why I Polyander, there's some life in this,  
A little heaven even in the apprehension.  
Aratus art not thou of this opinion?  Ara. 
Not I Sir, nor of my Lord the Fools there.  
King's are more miserable, than they seem  
Happy; flattered by themselves and others,  
Into a joy that is not, and what they feel,  
They rather do imagine than find so.  
Yet I grant too, a King may be happy,  
But not then as a King. Felicity  
Is a Purchase, and no Inheritance,  
Nor has the Prerogative more than one life  
In't ever, it dies still with the Buyer.  
Troubles are the good King's profession,  
In the Wars the first Dart is thrown at him,  
Where oft times his happiness is in a  
Glorious death; or perhaps his godlike rays  
Are plucked from him by some accursed hand,  
And so falls less happy, being after  
Vainly wished so by a poor revenge he  
Knows not.  Com. 
Very Grave, and unseasonable!  
Thus your lordship gets the reputation  
Of Singularity, which the Vulgar  
Suspect to be Wisdom.  Ara. 
Sir you see  
How this place and my freeness are injured.  King 
Mirth, only mirth Aratus. He means  
Thy speech would better have become a council,  
Than a Banquet. Timeus welcome. Nay  
Keep your seats. Would thou hadst been partaker  Enter Timeus. 
Of our Mirth.  Time. 
Sir, when my actions, or my age,  
Shall make me worthy of your ease and pleasures,  
I shall be a thankful sharer: but till then,  
Your Troubles will become me better than  
Your Sports, and Cares will sit more lovely on  
My Brow than Roses. Sir, those that are about you  
Seek to drown your virtues.  Ara. 
Your highness means  
None here?  Time. 
I name none here my Lord.  King. 
Nay Timeus,  
Thou ne'er look'st friendly on our pleasures.  Time. 
I must confess Sir, I had rather see you  
Bloody than thus Wet; nor are my Wishes  
Impious, Polyander.  Poly. 
My Lord.  Time. 
How basely that Smile became thee. I had  
Rather thou hadst answered me with a Blow  
Than such a Look. I thought to have asked thee  
Something, but I see thou art unworthy  
Of a brave Demand. Thy Skill lies only  
In the Curiosity of a Meal,  
To say at the first touch o'th' tongue. this is  
A Chian, this a Falernian Wine.  
Straight by the colour of the flesh to know,  
Whether the foul were crammed, or whether fed,  
Prithee Polyander, how sat the Wind  
When this Bore was slain? Were not these Apples  
Pulled the Moon increasing? Degenerate!  
I have seen thee put thy face into a Frown,  
And were't so constant in that look, as if  
Thou hadst no other.  Poly, 
Sir, when you shall find,  
Or make a cause, I'll put them on again,  
Here they'll but sour the Entertainment.  Com. 
You see, my Lord, they are not drowned, they live  
Still under water.  Time. 
Like thine, Beast.  King 
Prithee Timeus let us enjoy our Mirth  
While the Gods give it: the time will come,  
That we shall wish for it, and not have it.  
On my Conscience thou couldst be content  
To have Enemies, only that thou might'st cut'em off.  Time. 
I am sorry, Sir, if I have offended  
Against your Mirth, it was not my intent.  
I came to bring you News.  King 
News? What is't? Good?  Time. 
'Tis as you shall esteem of't Sir: There's  
A Stranger Prince arrived.  King 
Hither?  Time. 
Yes Sir.  
His Visit's forced by a Storm, as he pretends.  King. 
What ere the Occasion is, he shall be  
Welcome. The time's far spent. Aratus, it  
Shall be thy Employment. From us fairly  
Salute the Prince, and tell him, though the Seas  
Have been Unfriendly, the Land shall Court him.  Ara. 
Great Sir, you highly Honour me.  Phro. 
So, now we have time to speak: What think'st thou,  Exeunt all but Aratus, Phronimus, and Eurylochus. 
Aratus of these passages?  Arat. 
Well, bravely well.  Eury. 
Your speech struck desperately at the King:  
He will not swallow it without some touch of jealousy.  Ara. 
'Tis no matter. He cannot cross us now.  
We have not ta'en so many years to build  
A Work up, and then to have it ruined  
With a push. No, he that will shake't, must first  
Overthrow a kingdom, a Prince, a Law, so large  
The Extents are: ne'er did Plot thrive like it,  
It has infected with the Holy Sore  
The greatest part o'th' Realm, and catches daily;  
Like some Unheard of New Opinions  
Straightened at first, and prisoned in the breasts  
Of two or three, gain strength by Time, and ears,  
And daily fed by curiosity,  
Thrust out at last the Old, and most received,  
And grow the whole Religion of the Place.  
When we have called our Party forth, the Work  
Will seem done, the thin Numbers that are left,  
Not deserving the Name of Enemies.  
The Tyrant than will see himself no more  
A King, but only the Wretched Cause of war,  
His Power being ravished from him.  Phr. 
While the fruit's thus ripe, why do we let it grow?  Eury. 
And spoil perhaps?  Arat. 
We will no longer, only  
A little Ceremony detains us  
To Crown our King, that past, our actions  
With our thoughts shall then contend in swiftness.  Phro. 
How sped your visit to the young Prince?  Arat. 
Most happily: O had you seen with me  
The Dear Cause of this our Danger, how Cheap  
Would you have thought the Greatest for his Sake,  
And stood contemning Life, thinking your blood  
Ill-stored within your veins, when that his service  
Called it? sure 'twas some such Shape and Sweetness  
Which first slaved men, and gained a Rule, before there was  
A kingdom.  Eury. 
You forget your Message to the Prince.  Arat. 
'Tis true; pray bear me Company, we may get thanks  
For our compliment another day.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Harpastes. Harp. 
Devil, whether wilt thou hurl me? The Ship  
Sunk under so much Ill, nor can the Earth  
Bear us both together: the greatest Hills  
Press not her face with half that Load; one thought  
Of goodness made me lighter than the Waves,  
And in an instant taught me how to swim.  Enter Melampus to him. 
Melampus!  Melam. 
Harpastes!  Harp. 
Are we only scaped?  Melam. 
I hope so.  Harp. 
Then the Storm has played the Hangman,  
And saved us Innocent.  Melam. 
Innocent! What's that?  
It has saved us so much labour, and a broken head perhaps.  Harp. 
The Wrack was great, and full of horror.  Melam. 
How the rogues prayed, and roared above the Waves.  
Vowed whole herds of Off rings for their safety.  
But Neptune saved 'em Charges, and took the  
Verier Beasts.  Harp. 
We scaped miraculously.  Melam. 
I hope you'll burn no Bullocks to the Sea.  Harp. 
No, my vows were of another Nature.  
I vowed to live well, and change my bloody purpose.  Melam. 
Thou didst not mean in Earnest?  Harp. 
I did then, but I no sooner touched the shore,  
And safety, but my Old thoughts returned.  Melam. 
Come, we'll go claim our Hire, and swear we killed him  
Before the storm. Our fellow's dead-pay will  
Fall to us. we'll demand for losses, I,  Enter Pallantus. 
And our dangers too.  Harp. 
If my Eyes deceive  
Me not, here comes one will deny the payment.  Melam. 
'Tis he, how the Devil scaped he? Be resolute, and second me.  Pallan. 
How now friends, amazed at what's past? Dangers  
O'erblown are dreams, no more to be esteemed of,  
Within this hour you would have given a world,  
To stand thus had it been yours; let not smaller  
Losses than afflict you. The greatest Riches  
Are trifles after such Deliverance.  
Our birthday was not half to us so happy,  
As is this Minute, than we had no sense  
Of Life, now we perceive and joy in't—  They assault him, and he kills 'em. 
What moved these villain's hatred? Sure they know  
Me not: Nor did I ere see them before  
This Voyage! They could not hope for Money:  
There's more in't. Let me see— What's here, a beard?  
Black patches? Sure 'tis their trade they are so  He searches 'em. 
Furnished. Both are of the same profession.  
He finds a Letter about the last. I am glad to hear you have found Pallantus, receive this man the bearer into your Company and counsel, and if your secret practices fail you, assault him openly, and by violence perform the Murder; let the one or the other be done speedily, my employments here for you are many, and instant.  
Your Lord and Friend, Timeus.  
Art thou the Lord, my wonder then is o'er!  
Thy l' reachery was ever greater than thy Hate,  
And that too was something more than Malice,  
Above the search of Innocence, a Knot  
Unto the subtlest Traitors, a riddle  
To thyself. Were not thy Home-Cruelties  
Enough, but thou must maintain thy Factors  
Out for lives in foreign kingdoms? I have  
Lain hid so long, am now so New formed by Art,  
No friend can know me, Hate, thy Eyes are more  
Percieving far than Friendships. I have not  
Dared to Name myself, because with it I do  
Name my Father, and yet thou hast me perfect.  
Him, with many more, that were to Good to look on  
So much Ill, as thine, and thy father's Lives,  
Were made away— Some God give me temper,  
Or too much Rage, instead of a Revenger,  
Will turn me a Stock, a Fool. Hear me ye  
Banished Gods (for I may justly fear  
If that your powers are absent anywhere,  
'Tis from this place where Tyranny doth reign)  
On this Altar I do vow, to be your  
Martyr, If not your surviving Instrument,  
Ne'er to let fall your Vengeance, till it light  
On those which slew the King, your King, the  
Image of your goodness. Which killed the Prince,  
And dared to say that he was lost, lost indeed.  
Which on the Princess do intend a Rape,  
Their Marriage is no better. Which slew  
My Father, and last resolved on me.  
Had I a thousand lives I'd' Gauge them here,  
And think your judgement yet not bought too dear  Enter Aratus, Phronimus, and Eurylochus Arat. 
In the name of wonder what are thou?  Pall. 
Why?  
What am I Sir?  Arat. 
Nay, I know not,  
Nor does any but an Antiquary,  
Or a Conjurer, certainly, Th' art no Man,  
Or if thou be'st, I am sure none of the  
Last Edition  Pall. 
Were your Troop absent,  
I'd make you find I were without those helps.  
'tis so long since you saw a Man, a true One,  
That you know not when you meet one. Your lordship's  
Glass showed you none this morning.  Eury. 
Whence camest thou?  Ara. 
Ay, that I'd fain know, here's no hole open  
In the Earth.  Pall. 
From Sea.  Ara. 
From the bottom sure,  
Above Water nothing floats like thee.  Phro. 
Of what profession art thou? a Soldier?  Pall. 
Yes.  Ara. 
Thou shouldst be hanged for thy very looks  
If thou wert not, they are excusable  aside 
In no Calling else.  Pall. 
I know ye all, but  
At this time will not be known unto you.  
These are some insolent Scoffers, that breath  
Their Wits on all they see weaker than themselves  
Against they meet the Fool next, I wrong myself  
To talk to'em.  Eury. 
Dost hear?  Pall. 
None of your wit yet.  Eury. 
Thou bleed'st!  Pall. 
Was't that made me such a wonder?  
I do so.  Eury. 
And much blood is spilled upon  
The Ground. Know'st thou the cause?  Pall. 
Yes, I was  
Assaulted by two Rank Rascals, which I  
Let blood, and cured.  Phro. 
Hast thou not killed, and rob'd'em?  Pall. 
Sir your thoughts are base. And you do ill thus  
To insult upon my Innocency. Rob'd'em;  
Money's more below my thoughts, than Earth:  
My Education has been Noble, and  
Though the Midwife wrapped me not in Purple,  
Nor Princes gossipped at my Birth, I have  
Dared to be as Honest as the Greatest.  
My Word hath commanded more, than all your  
Lands and Money. Those Deeds which I have done,  
Dishonesty dared not to have looked on.  
They would have frighted your Lordship, if but  
Told you toward bedtime.  Phro. 
I never saw  
Such fierceness!  Ara. 
I begin to admire this fellow!  Eury. 
Where hast thou bestow'd'em?  Pall. 
behind there.  
If you search 'em you may find more. What Money  
They had, the Sea washed 'em clean of before their deaths.  Phro. 
Why, were they cast away?  Pall. 
Yes, but it seems  they search the villains. 
They had a Land-fate.  Ara. 
Who's here, rogues limbs?  
Their two heads a piece?  Phro. 
Here's a Paper speaks 'em  
Most notorious Villains.  Eury. 
They were proper men.  Ara. 
They were so. Didst kill'em both, alone?  Pall. 
I told you once so, and am not proud of't  
To boast it o'er again, and tell you how I did it.  Ara. 
Trust me thou'rt a brave fellow.  
And I admire thy stoutness. Thou look'st  
As if thou hadst been nureed in perils.  
Darest thou with us confront a Bold One?  
But as Honest, as'tis Great. What sayst thou?  
Canst thou like of us?  Phro. 
Thou shalt not find us  
As we appeared at first.  Pall. 
While ye talk thus  
I can. And in your Business, if Honesty  
Go yoked with Danger, it cannot fright me then.  
No, though all the Monsters of Sea and Land,  
And Hell to boot, were framed into one Horror,  
I'd face it, Charge it, and wager a life  
I'd Conquer it.  Ara. 
Thy words go high as thunder.  Pall. 
Pardon my words, if my actions bear up  
Equal.  Arat. 
I believe they will,  
And dare promise thou wilt do wonders.  
Let meimbrace the— thou'rt welcome to our  
Friendship. Mine eyes did look on thee unworthily  
Before, methinks thou'rt Comely now, thy scars  
Are so many Graces, not set by an  
Effeminate, but by a manly, and  
A warlike skill. Business calls us hence, thou shalt not  
Part one Minute from me. Thy wounds needs help,  
Come, thou shalt Heal before me.  Exeunt omnes. Enter Clearchus, and Haimantus. Cler. 
Have you commanded all the Mariners  
Aboard, each Captain to his charge, bid the  
Soldiers fill the Decks with their full numbers,  
And display their Colours, left nothing wanting  
That may add to the Glory of the Navy?  Haim. 
Sir, all things are in their Pride and height.  
The captain's Bravery seems to lend brightness  
To the day, and like the Sun, throws rays, and light  
About 'em: Nor lookstheir Gold less awful,  
Than the soldier's Steel. On the Ships appear  
The Joy and Riches of a Conquest, and yet they  
Keep the Order of a joining-battle.  
There wants nothing to make a warlike, Princely,  
And well-commanded Navy, but your Presence Sir.  Clear. 
I would not have them think us such Poor Men,  
That we are drove to seek for their Relief,  
To sue for Bread and Water; but rather  
That we come like Noble wooers, full of  
Rewards and Presents, able to return  
All favours we receive, and equally  
To honour Them, that honour Us, as Great  
As they. It shall appear, that he that is  
Master of such a Fleet, may style himself  
Prince, though Lord of nothing else.  Haim. 
The people  
Flock upon the shore, and with one voice say,  
You come to fetch their Princess. Sir, you have  
More than their Consents already, you have  
Their wishes too.  Clear. 
I marry Haimantus,  
Such a Jewel would make the rest look dim!  
There are two Ladies in this Isle (if fame  
Say true) the wonders of the World! When Nature  
Made them, she summoned her whole godhead,  
And unwearied wrought till she had done,  
formed each limb as if she had begun there:  
She seemed to practise on the World till then,  
And what like beautiful she framed before,  
Were but Degrees to this Height, these the Ascent,  
From which she now must fall! They made her Older  
Than the labour of a thousand years—  Enter a Servant. Serv. 
there's a great train, it seems from Court, coming  
To your Highness.  Clear. 
Come, let's meet'em.  As Clearchus is going out, Arats, Phronimus, Eurylochus and Pallantus meet him. Ara. 
Sir, the King congratulates your safety,  
And is glad of your Arrival, though the Cause  
Were dangerous, You would have obliged him  
Much Sir, if you had been bound for Crect.  Clear. 
The King is Royal, and chides me kindly.  
He binds a Stranger ever to his Service.  Ara. 
His Majesty expects you'll honour him  
With your Presence this night at Court.  Clear. 
My Lord;  
I shall wait upon him. But I must fist  
Entreat, you'll favour me with your Company  
A shipboard. I shall not need to excuse  
A soldier's Entertainment, I doubt not,  
But your Lordships knows it well; coarseness and  
Plainness are the Praise of it.  Arat. 
Sir you are  
The Envy of your Neighbour Princes, you  
So far exceed them in a Brave Command;  
I ne'er was happy in the like sight before.  
And my Lord, they that can boast the strangest,  
Have not seen one so Common, and so Rare.  
Your Navy looks, as if she wore the spoils  
Of a whole Land, or came to purchase 'em.  Clea. 
My Lord you'll make me proud. Your presence yet  
Will add unto its Glory.  Enter Timeus, and Coracinus Exeunt Omner. Time. 
Found dead upon the shore!  Cor. 
I my Lord,  
Thrown into a cliff.  Time. 
Were they drowned?  Cora. 
'Tis believed not, my Lord: for many fresh Wounds  
Were found upon their bodies; and yet their Clothes  
Were wet.  Time. 
'Tis strange! Were there but two?  Cor. 
No my Lord.  Time. 
That's stranger yet. Reward the Men that found them,  
And bid'm make no farther enquiry  
After their Deaths, nor speak of it. Let it  Exit Coraos. 
Die with you too, do you hear? The villains  
Have robbed at their return, and got their deaths  
That way. I ne'er could spare 'em worse; the State  
Stands in greater need of theirs, than of the  
Sword of Justice. Rodia.  Rod. 
My Lord.  He calls Rodia, and she Entern. Time. 
Is your Lady to be spoke with?  Rod. 
Always,  
My Lord, by you. But now she's coming forth.  Enter Endora. Time. 
Save you sweet Sister.  End. 
O you're welcome Sir.  Time. 
Sure Eudora, Venus and the Graces  
Had their hands to day about you! You look  
Fairer than yourself, and move in the sphere  
Of Love and Beauty; Cupid has taken  
His Stand up in your Eyes, and shoots at all  
That come before him! Pray Venus he miss me.  Eud. 
When do you grow serious?  Time. 
These are the Fair Looks  
Must captivate the Stranger Prince in a Free Country?  
And th' the dress that must enchant him? ha.  Eud. 
There is no Charm in't certainly; it pleased  
Me the least of Many. No, 'tis your Fair  
Mistress, that bears those Love-Nets about her:  
If the Stranger'scape her, he's safe.  Time. 
‛ Had better  
Kill his Father, and then gaze upon the  
Spectacle, than look upon her with the  
Eyes of Love.  Eud. 
Nay then you are unjust.  
Would you have him stronger than yourself was?  
If he for that be guilty, the same Doom  
Must belong to both alike.  Time. 
But I have  
Prevailed so far, that he shall be free, both  
From the danger of Love, and seeing.  
Nor must You make up his entertainment.  Eud. 
I was Commanded to be ready, and  
Attend there.  Time. 
But now the Commissions altered,  
And runs in the Other sense.  Eud. 
I shall be  
Content to obey either. May I not  
Know the cause?  Time. 
You may. We would not feed  
The Prince here with hopes to get a Wife. This  
Was the Storm that drove him in. Nor must you  
Only for this time forbear his presence,  
But while he stays. He's unworthy of you.  Eud. 
If you know him so, I shall then without  
Excuse deny his Visits. But I think  
This business may be borne a Nobler Way;  
Nor will the End Fail, though the means be Fair.  
Leave it to me: If he Sue with Honour,  
He will take an Honourable Answer;  
Though he gain none from me, I'll get his Love,  
And send him home no less a Friend, than if  
He were a Husband. By my Restraint, you'll  
Only procure unto yourself, the marks  
Of jealousy and rudeness, and fouler stains,  
If that the Crime were named to the desert.  
Besides, it does proclaim in Me too such  
A weakness, as I am much ashamed of.  
Had he a Face adorned with the Graces  
Of both Sexes, Beauty, and manliness,  
And these (after the custom of the Roman  
Princes in their Statues) Engrafted on  
On the body of some God, I could look on,  
Converse, I, and neglect him too, when I  
Have reason for it. Fear not me then.  Time 
I do not, I know thee strong, the Honour  
Of a kingdom may lean with safety on Thee.  
But he will linger here too long, besot  
The State with Feastings, and in this Jollity  
Give Opportunity to Treacherous  
Practices. He must be used Ill, there are  
Reasons for it.  Eud. 
Is there then a policy  
In rudeness? Why do you not rather send  
A Defiance to him? Proclaim him enemy?  
This were Nobler far, than to receive him  
In your arms, and then Affront him; say Health,  
And wish poison in the Cup. Are you so much  
Below him?  Time 
There are greater thoughts in hand,  
Than Curious Points of Gallantry. If he send  
Any Present to you, you must return it  
Back with Scorn.  Eud. 
Pride is ill becoming,  
And hateful, even to the next Proud man does  
Practise it.  Time. 
Then tak'em, and laugh at him.  Eud. 
No, where my thanks are too much, I'll rather  
Return Gifts for Gifts. I should shame to be  
A gainer on such a Score, which the Meanest,  
Honest Purchaser would blush at.  Time. 
He'll take  
Those Gifts for Favours.  Eud. 
They will not prove so;  
Yet He will deserve some, as he is a Stranger.  Time. 
Not from You. Presents the State will send him.  
You hear my father's Will. You must not see him  
While he stays!  Eud. 
I do, and shall easily keep  
That I do not care to break.  Time. 
Farewell.  Eud. 
Must you be gone?  Time. 
There's a little business  
Calls me.  Eud. 
If it be but a little, stay.  Time. 
Only the Welcome of the Stranger.  Eud. 
'Tis too much to hinder.  
I see a causeless, and a needless Rage  
Hid in your breast. The Prince may be Noble,  
Valiant; if you receive him then with Scorn,  
he'll prove a stronger Enemy, than those  
Unworthy Ones you fear at home, whose own  
Actions daily ruin, and whose ill-made  
Knots, will loosen faster than they tie 'em.  
You have prevailed with me, I'll not be won  
To see him now: but let it not Appear  
By your Default, and that my Retirement,  
Is only in scorn to him: which will be  
Made plain, if that you change not this Face you  
Have put on. It becomes you at no time.  
A Prince should always Smile, or look indifferent.  
He has no need of Frowns, as other men.  
Life and Death are in his breath, and if any do  
Offend, his Revenge is known, and need not  
Be declared by Face-expressions. Where there's  
Power to Punish, 'tis Tyranny to Rage.  
Anger is no Attribute of Justice,  
'Tis true, she is painted with a Sword, but looks  
As if she held it not. Though Warbe in  
Her Hand, yet Peace dwells in her Face. Learn once  
Of me, and when you have no Cause of  
A Distemper, express none. Now you have made  
All sure, doubt not; but receive the stranger  
With fearless and confident embraces.  Time. 
I will, or at lest I'll tell thee so, when  
Thou persuadest me thus. Farewell Eudora.  Exit Timues. Eud. 
Thy subtle Plots will ruin thee at last.  
Valour and Policy do seldom meet;  
Yet here they are in their extremes in One;  
But do most strangely Divide the Owner.  
Make him Dread none, and yet confirm him not  
Within a Guard.  Exit Eudora. CHORUS. 
What can our Wishes deprecate,  
When Vice is seen, both Law, and Fate?  
When for the good o'th' Commonweal,  
The council's called, to Plot a Meal.  
And Beasts brought in with solemn Cry,  
As spoils got from the Enemy?  
Whose life's the Table, and the Stage,  
He doth not Spend, but Lose his Age.  
The King's eyes, like his Jewels, be  
Set to Adorn, not to foresee:  
And as his Crown, he thinks each thing,  
Runs round in a continued Ring.  
But Sacrifices Crowned be,  
And Garlands fit for destiny.  
Fates thus we fear have writ this Latt,  
That Wint shall lose, what Blood hath Gott.   

[ACTUS 2. SCENA 1.]  Enter Clearchus. 
IS this your Royal Entertainment?  
A common Host would have given one as Civil,  
Have shown his Guests their Quarter, and then left'em  
To stumble out again. My Receivers are  
Are all vanished— An undeserved Affront  
Will trouble me— Neither of the Princesses  
Were in the Train; they might have trusted 'em,  
I could have gauged a Kingdom for their security—  One passes by him reeling, and by and by after another. Last of all Melissa, they all make reverence to Clearchus, as they pass. Enter Comastes. 
Was not that fellow drunk? Now they begin  
To Muster up again. Here I stand like one  
That learns to make his first Honour in a  
Dancing School— Sir by your favour. If your  
Business calls you not, pray let me entreat  
Your Company a while.  Com. 
Troth an't like your Highness, I am in haste, in very great haste, The King has sent for me, and I know he's thirsty till I come. I would your Highness were as resolute, and as well armed this way as I, 
* He shows a great Goblet.  you'd be the welcom'st man— He loves a Royal-Drunkard to admiration; he never saw one yet, but in a Glass. Sir, have you any business with him? You need no other Orator than such as this; such a Mouth without a Tongue, will persuade any thing. Yet this is o'th' least, fit only for Physick-dayes, when he would not surfeit; a mere Toy that troubles the waiters with often filling. But I have One, as high— Here's nothing to measureed by; but 'twas that made me so Inward with him; I always use to Petition him with it; 'tis bigger than any of his own, and pleased him above Measure. The first time he saw it, he commended the Gallantry of my Mind, and said it was a Noble Emulation in me! He has a Daughter Sir, a beautiful Lady, my Hopes, unless some Neighbour-Prince do Reel betwixt us. Your Highness comes the right way, he hates a dry, inland Traveller; but that you Kiss the Cup, when you should Drink; and have too much Bounce, and Down-with-him in you; which are things he surfeited of, some sixteen years since, and still the very Names turn his stomach. Besides, your Navy and Attendants are too great, he'd have esteemed more of you, had they been fewer, enough only to lean on, when you were Overtaken; or if you had wanted those, and borrowed his unto your Chamber, it had been better: Where he finds Worth, the Pomp delights him not. Your pardon Sir.  Exit Comastes. Clear. 
Why here's a fellow now! With what Licence  
He belies his Master, or speaks Truths  
Altogether as Unpardonable! Sure  
He has his Patent for't! I find at my  
Return from Travel, I shall want Names  
For all the Monsters I have seen.  Enter Aratus to him. Ara. 
Though your Highness be here a stranger,  
I may demand of you where the King is.  Clear. 
If none know more than I, my Lord, you've lost  
Your King.  Arat. 
Sure he is not well,  
I hope he is not: with a safe Loyalty,  
I may wish, he hath a Dangerous Cause,  
Rather than none, to take him from a Prince,  
The first Night of his arrival in his Court.  Clea. 
My Lord, I have found much Honour in you,  
One that knows to show more Civility  
To a Stranger, than he can deserve,  
And you're unhappy only at this time  
In an Unworthy choice: but if still you  
Can continue this nobleness (though the  
King frown) I shall gladly make some stay; at least  
Till I have satisfied a stranger's Curiosity,  
And may seem rather to have left the Place,  
Than to have been thrust from it.  Ara. 
Believe me Sir,  
Both your Reception, and this Necessity,  
That you are drove to seek so mean a Service  
As mine, doth shame me much. 'Tis not the use  
Of this kingdom to be thus uncivil,  
Nor is't our custom, as it hath been this day,  
To Coop our Ladies up, as if the sight  
Were Dangerous; their Beauties will endure  
The Test, and we dare trust'm to't. 'Twas  
Unkindly done, I know one Look of theirs  
Would have given a Welcome to a Young Man,  
Above the highest Cost.  Clea. 
My Lord, you know  
To speak a pleasing Language.  Ara. 
We have two  
Princesses Sir, Few Nations can show such Jewels;  
Yet only one is Oriental,  
The other's artificial, but an  
Excellent Gem too; One of them, the True One,  
I doubt not, but I have credit to show  
Your highness; but 'tis not to be purchaest,  
That happy Opportunitie's already past,  
And the New Owner Esteems it above  
His Wealth, his Life, I and his Honour too.  aside. Clea. 
Yet, my Lord, bless me with the sight. I can  
Rejoice at so much Excellence, though  
Another do possess it. And no doubt  
As much of the Owners felicity, lies in Strangers  
Admiration, as in his own Possession.  Ara. 
All but Jealous Men think so: and they count  
Themselves robbed of all happiness in their Wives,  
Others receive; engross as Covetously  
Their Beauties, as their Persons, and think themselves  
Cuckolded by a woman's Commendations.  
But my Lord, I'll leave you. I was going  
To the Princess before I met your highness.  
I know few words will gain so easy a request.  
Tomorrow, and daily, I'll wait upon  
Your highness.  Clear. 
My Lord, you have engaged me  
Your Servant, beyond my hope of freedom.  Exeunt severally. Enter Hianthe, two Ladies, and Waiters. Hian. 
Nay, you must bear it patiently.  
My Dominion extends no further than  
These rooms, and beyond them I grant nothing.  
How will you endure the Strangers delays,  
That thus hardly brook his Coming? The King  
In compliment, will not permit the Winds  
To serve sooner than a month, were that all  
His stay: but here must be Masques and Triumphs  
Before he goes, and the Subject yet not known  
For the One, nor Ornaments made for the Other.  
Perhaps a League must be Concluded,  
And then I would not live to be so Old,  
As to see the End of't. The Meanest persons  
Require a Month to fit themselves, a Prince  
Cannot turn in less than a Season.  1. Lady 
May we not see the Garden, Madam?  
Hian. No, nor the Day, but through a Window.  2. Lady 
We'll petition to him, under the title  
Of distressed Damsels, that must pass the  
Hour of their Age in Imprisonment,  
Unless he'll travel to his own, or some  
Other Country, to gain 'em freedom.  Hian. 
He'll think we are held by some Enchantment,  
That his Absence, and not his Sword, must gain  
Our Liberty. O Melissa welcome.  Enter Melissa. 
Now we shall see the show, though but as sick  
Persons, by Relation. Say, what hast thou seen?  Mel. 
The scurviest Entertainment— I did not  
Think it possible, so short a Time could have  
Prepared one so ill: 'Twas thought on before,  
And pains taken to Order it so much  
For the Worse. This was the first day that ere  
Me thoughts the King, and my Lord Timem,  
Looked like the Father, and the Son. The King  
Had on his Old council Face, which all hope't  
He had forgot, and this was the only time  
These many years, he should not have worn it.  
They both embraced the Stranger as coldly,  
And carelessly, as I have seen our Common  
Fencers do, that are immediately  
To Fight with one another after. This  
Behaviour in the Great Ones, was presently  
Observed like a New Fashion, and in  
An instant the whole Court was in't, from the  
Bravest, to those that follow a Fashion  
Only, when 'tis to leave off something, I mean  
Our poorer Gallants that go in Quirpo,  
And look not as if they were Hot, but wanted  
A Cloak. Marry their wits were not so Changeable  
As their Faces, and having but One suit  
Of compliment, and that now Unfashionable,  
They were fain to supply it with legs, and Silence.  Hian. 
How looked the Prince at this behaviour?  Mel. 
Much above it, in my Opinion, two foot  
Higher than my Lord Timem, though not  
Altogether so tall. These sour Looks, were  
All the Without-door show, which ended,  
In a solemn March, they returned all into  
The Palace. The Strangers seemed, rather to  
Follow with a silent Consent, than on  
Invitation. There the press shook me off,  
To find this out for your highness' Mirth.  She shows a Roll of paper. 
And at my return, as I least expected,  
I found the Prince all alone, where anybody  
Might have seen him for nothing. The Grecian,  
And the Trojan Captains in the Hangings,  
Were all his Company: with whom he seemed  
Well suited, had they been alive, his Looks  
Were as Daring as theirs, and standing so,  
Bred much Comparison.  Hian. 
Know you the reason  
Of this behaviour?  Mel. 
No Madam, yet  
If I would, I might have learned of many:  
The whole company were Politicians.  
There was one Yeoman-Statesman informed most  
About him; and his Conjectures, go for  
Currant Truths next Post into the Country.  Hian. 
Well, now tell us what you have got there for  
Our Mirth.  Mel. 
A precious piece of Poetry,  
Which I have been the Patroness of from  
The first nonsense in't, that is, from the first line.  
There's much mirth intended in it, and I  
Doubt not by your Highness will find it.  
The Author himself is an emblem of  
The first Comedies, in which One acted All,  
And will make you laugh, though you saw him  
Every day. I have brought him along with me,  
He stays but till his admittance be granted.  Hian. 
No prithee Melissa, 'twill be too much.  Mel. 
I beseech your Highness. And do but smile  
Upon his Learning. Domine, Domine.  The Poet enters rudely, and seeing the Princess, steps back as rudely. 
Look, look. I told you what you'd do. You are  
So forward.  Poet. 
I can presume.  Hian. 
Ha, ha.  Mel. 
Hold your peace with your presuming. You should  
Let the Princess speak. This is the Author,  
Madam.  Hian. 
Lad. Ha, ha, ha.  Mel. 
What think you your Play  
Will do, when one Scene of yourself breeds all  
This Mirth?  Poet. 
Hum.  Hian. 
Melissa.  Mel. 
Your Highness—  Hian. 
Prithee discharge him, I am notable  
To look so much laughter in the face, and  
Contain myself, to save my Modesty.  Mel. 
So, 'tis well Sir. The Princess has taken  
Notice of your Worth, and commanded me  
To reward you. Attend to morrow, and  
You shall receive it. And pray see that her  
Highness have all your Labours, as you call 'em.  Exit Poet. Hian. 
Oh 'tis well we dress us not. Here all take  
Papers, and sit down, we'll choose our several parts.  Enter Clearchus and Haimantus. 1. Waiter. 
Who were they past by?  2. Waiter. 
I know not; but certainly  
They understand what they do, they went on  
With so much Confidence.  Clear. 
Where are we now?  Haim. 
Certainly in no danger Sir.  Mel. 
The Prince!  The Ladies and the Princess rise up amazedly. 1. Lady. 
The Prince?  2. Lad. 
The Prince?  Clear. 
Madam, our bold Mistake has thrust us on  
Too far, to retire without Excuse, which  
We shall hardly make, unless your Favour  
Meet us. We are strangers that thus have erred,  
Unfortunately I must not say, that  
Were a Rudeness greater than the other;  
Yet we ought to esteem this your Disturbance  
A Fault, though to us a blessed one, and  
Hath conferred a happiness, our best Deeds,  
Could not have deserved.  Mel. 
This Entrance was  Exeunt Clearchus and Haimanius. 
Something abrupt, and beyond the Intent  
Of our  Poet. 
A strange accident Hian!  
Was it the Prince that spoke?  Mel. 
Yes Madam; but  
'Twas improper here.  Hian. 
Art thou sure 'twas he?  Mel. 
I am Madam. Her Highness is troubled,  
I see a Prince is too high a Personage  
For a Comedy, and spoils the Mirth of't.  Hian. 
Melissa, I have something to impart to you.  Exeunt Hian and Ladies. 
When the Company leave me at Night,  
Attend me in my Chamber.  Enter Aratus, and Palantus. Ara. 
Madam, a little of your Company,  
I beseech you.  Mel. 
My Lord Aratus save you.  Ara. 
A proper Salutation for so fair  
A Lady, whose beauties are Destructive.  Mel. 
Your Lord-ship's very Conceited. 'Tis the  
First Jest, I dare say, was ever made on that  
Poor saying.  Ara. 
What do you look at? Do you want  She looks as she speaks of Palant. and Arat. hinder her. 
A Servant?  Mel. 
Bless me, my Lord! what Thing  
To fright us have you there?  Ara. 
Why I pray?  
Because he's Black? The fitter for a Lady.  Mel. 
For a Lady! I never saw such a devil's playfellow!  Ara. 
He's white within, all Snow, and Milk.  Mel. 
They are put into an Ink-bottle.  Ara. 
What, you'd have one that spends more Milk 'bout a  
His Face, than he sucked in's childhood; that dresses  
Himself in Gloves, as if one Part were too good  
To do service to the other; and dares not  
Show his hands for shaming of his Mistresses,  
Nor commend Hers, because his own are Whiter.  
This'is One neglects his Outside, beyond  
A common Cleanness, and bestows that Care  
Upon his Mind, there wastes his four Hours  
Of Dressing. And what the other does exceed  
In Spruiseness, he'll make up in Service.  
Pay Respects unto his Lady's virtue,  
Not unto her Muff. And if at any time  
Danger do approach her, fearless he dares  
Beat it back, or make it Welcome by his  
Noble Fall. Himself in Presence guards her,  
And his Memory in's Absence. Come, pray  
Spoil not his Hopes among the Ladies.  
He's a young Courtier, and wants a Mistress.  Mel. 
I am turned when I hear reason.  
I beseech you my Lord, let me be she.  Ara. 
I thought 'twould come to this. You make the furthest  
Way about, the nighest to your Ends, Love,  
By discommending. Pray let him salute  
You then.  Mel. 
Not unless you'll stand by me.  Ara. 
Well, I warrant you. My friend.  Pall. 
My Lord.  Ara. 
Pray draw near, here's a fair Lady, gladly  
Would salute you, Now you're at Court, you must  
Lay by your warlike thoughts, and Plot how you shall  
Overcome in compliment, and Conquer in Civility.  Pall. 
My Lord, I should be ashamed to pretend  
So much unto the soldier, as to make  
Myself Unsensible of so great an  
Honour, as this Lady does me by her  
Fair Salutation. Though I am Unworthy,  
I can be Proud to be her Servant.  Ara. 
What think you?  Mel. 
I know not what to think of  
So much wonder! What Rarities shall  
I be Mistress of, and none Envy me?  Ara. 
Well, to leave you in that Rapture; may I  
Speak with the Princess?  Mel. 
Yes, she went hence but now.  Ara. 
May I adventure to go in?  Mel. 
You may,  
But call my Servant along with you.  Ara. 
You are longing again, but not a bit,  Exeunt Omnes 
'Tis sweetmeat, not a bit.  Cleander discovered sleeping. A Song. 
while Morpheus thus doth gently lay,  
His powerful Charge upon each part,  
Making thy Spirits even obey,  
The stiller charms of his Dull Art.  
I thy Good Angel from thy side,  
As Smoak doth from the Altar rise,  
Making no noise as it doth glide,  
Will leave thee in this Soft surprise.  
And from the Heavens will fetch thee down,  
A lively Vision to express,  
Thy Right unto an Earthly Crown,  
" No Power can make this kingdom less.  
But gently, gently, lest I bring,  
A start in Sleep by sudden Flight,  
Playing aloof, and hovering,  
Till I am lost unto the sight.  
This is a Motion still, and soft,  
So free from noise and Cry,  
That Jove himself who hears a Thought,  
knows not when we pass by.  Enter Acates. Aca. 
There he sits, and sleep hath seized on him,  
Which seldom does so when the Season calls it:  
But still he takes it when it comes, not when  
'Tis due; when weariness, and not the Warnings  
Of the Night do prompt him to it. He says,  
To Sleep, because the Day is gone, is to  
Perform a Duty, not a necessity:  
And to Eat at a Certain Hour, to  
Satisfy the Time, and not his Hunger.  
Nature is the Mistress of his Faculties,  
Which are averse, and refractory to  
All custom; will admit no laws, but what  
Themselves Enact, nor strictly observe them  
Neither. 'Tis a strange Distraction for sixteen  
Years, a Deeper Melancholy possesses him,  
Than does those, that have run the Miseries  
And sins of a Long Life. This desolate  
Happiness is all that he enjoys,  
And this I am Commanded to take from him.  
Cleander, what ho Cleander.  Clea. 
Why are you thus cruel in your Care? Did you  
But know the Felicities you have waked me from,  
You'd have rocked my sleep for ever: Thought it  
A greater Mercy to have killed, than thus  
To have disturbed me. I was wrapped into  
The company of Men, of Gods, if compared  
With those we here converse with. Enjoyed the  
Most Excellent things, by a Heavenly Vision,  
Showed more Excellent and glorified.  
Sa●● crowned a King o'er all, and with a traitorous  
Call, you have deposed me! Alas, how fading  
Is my happiness, which a Small Noise, or  
Motion can dissolve, and turn to nothing.  Aca. 
Let that Reason make you scorn'em, and aim  
At Lasting Ones.  Clean. 
Were their longest life but  
Three Minutes, and that time Uncertain,  
They were yet to be preferred before those the World  
Holds in highest Estimation. They are pure  
And celestial Pleasures, to be fed on  
Only by the fancy. I'll in, and again  
Invite them with a Slumber.  Aca. 
I must for bear  Exit Cleander. 
My Remedies, 'tis dangerous applying  Exit Acates. 
Physic in a Fit.  Enter Polyander and Menetius at one door, and Comastes to them at the Other. Com. 
Polyander, Menetius. well met. Have ye  
Seen the Thing yet?  Poly. 
What Thing?  Com. 
The Thing that haunts  
The Court. It hath something like a Man, and pretends  
To be One. He comes to the Ladies, like  
A rough Water-Dog among a Flock of Foul,  
And they flutter as fast from him, scattering  
Feathers as they pass, I mean their Fans, and  
Such movables. The Guard dare not mingle  
With him, he's too boisterous for their Company.  
One Glance of him, as he passed by th' other day,  
Broke the King's Draught, which a Cubit-Cup could  
Ne'er do— See, see, here he comes, with as many  Enter Pallantus. 
Patches, and such like properties, as would  
Furnish a cashiered company to beg with.  
Sure he was Scar-Bearer to some army.  
Let's observe it what it does: look, look, its  
Pleased with the Hangings.  Poly. 
He cannot be thus  
By Nature, nor by Accident!' has studied  
To appear horrid!  Mene. 
Danger is not so  
Dreadful in itself, as it shows in him.  Com. 
Well, I cannot forbear, I must enter  
Parley with it. What Rare things shall I know,  
If I can get it speak! I'll inquire the fortune  
O'th' kingdom for the next thousand years.  
That's not worth the asking. I'll inquire when  
The Dissolution of the World shall be,  
And where its Treasure lies. He cannot choose  
But know the very Heart o'th' Earth. If I  
Can't persuade, I'll Conjure something from him.  
Bo, bullbeggar, What art thou? Who let thee lose?  
Where is any Gold hid? My fears were just.  
Nothing but a Charm will do't. Anaell,  
Ma●fo, Rachimas, Thulnear, Vemoby,  
Sav●an, Vernesa, Elty, Famelron  
Ausculta & obtempora madatis meis.  
This was not terrible enough, it must be  
More powerful yet. I adjure thee by those Boötes,  
Thy Velvet Eye, the tailor's work about thee—  Pall. 
Peace Fool, the King will hear, and thou'lt be  
Whipped for bawling.  Com. 
Prithee good devil, something  Exi Pallantus. 
O'th' other World—  Mene. 
Ha, ha, ha,  Poly. 
I hope 't has  
Satisfied your Curiosity Comastes? ha, ha, ha.  Com. 
Nay, I'll not leave him thus; be baffled by  
A Goblin. I'll follow it to the place  
Where it shakes the Chain, that's certain,  Exit Comastes. Men. 
Ha, ha, ha Come let's see the End o'th' Conjuration.  Exaunt Omnes. Enter King, and Timeus. King. 
But these are things for the following Age  
Timeus, we are hedged in beyond all fear,  
If Loyalty can prove destructive, there is  
Yet some danger.  Time. 
Because you see a Calm enwrap all round  
About you, you conceive 'twill be as Lasting,  
As 'tis Pleasing; Tempests, Sir, may contradict you,  
Even while you think so. Evils are silent now,  
Not done away, they Couch, and lie in-wait,  
Sedition walks with claws bowed in, and a Close Mouth,  
Which only she keeps for Opportunity  
Of Prey. You're not to suppose, that all Shut Eyes  
Do sleep; they are ne'er more watchful, than when thus  
They counterfeit neglect; securely they  
Pry into the Depth of things, by seeming  
Not to observe the Face, and outside,  
Your ruin yet appears not, and you think  
Because it Lurks, you're Safe. Enemies  
Reconciled, are like Wilde-Beasts brought up to hand,  
The'ave more Advantage given them to do Mischief.  King. 
Can the urns quicken their Ashes into  
Soldiers? Can the Graves and Tombs send forth a Race  
Of Enemies? From those that Live we are safe,  
They have no will to hurt us; and those that  
Sleep in the forgotten Dust cannot. There's  
Nothing remaining to our Care, but to  
Give thanks; the gods are favourable, and if  
We could be grateful, our Felicity  
And safety were both summed and perfect. I tell  
Thee often, thou letest thy best days pass,  
Without receiving of that Fruit, that should  
Be croped from 'em. I did expect thou shouldst  
Have urged me to thy Nuptials, such Cares  
Befit thee best, how the Triumphs should be  
Ordered, and Hymen's Torch well lighted.  Time. 
Pray Heaven no other Flames break out,  
But such as Mirth show forth. But Sir, I must  
Be bold to tell you, a few flattering Lords  
Guild o'er the Defects and ruins of your State;  
They make you call a lethargy, Security;  
And that a kingdom, which like to children's  
Houses on the Sand, reared up in Sport, and  
Toying, will become a Prey unto the Wave  
That first approaches it. They can perhaps  
Judge well of Meats and Wines, good Table-States men,  
Soldiers at a Banquet, strong to overcome  
A Charger, or a Goblet: but kingdom's  
Safeties, are not owed unto the palate,  
And the stomach: if these were State-Affairs,  
Your council were most sound, and every Breast,  
A Synod. If music could now raise Walls,  
And cities as of Old, your Realm would be  
Impregnable.  King. 
Hast thou yet done? Not all  
The Ghosts that I have made, have been thus Cruel  
To me; nor at yet their Graves have threatened  
Half these Evils. Thy mother's Labour, was  
A Conception, to the pains thou hourly  
Bringest upon me.  Time. 
Sir, I am sorry. Yet  
'Twas my Love that so did dictate to me;  
My desire that your sports might follow one  
Another, and succeed so just, that they  
Might seem to bring the season on, and not  
The season them, that thus they might continue,  
Ever; but 'twas then that they might continue,  
And not fail by Treason— But Sir, I will  
No more. I shall hereafter think't more Piety,  
Hand in hand to fall in Perils with you,  
Than myself to bring them.  King. 
What wouldst thou have?  
The Power I have, is wholly thine. If that  
I never did deny, was not thought given,  
Now I do. Use all the Means thou wilt, by laws,  
Or our Prerogative, to remove thy fears.  Time. 
Sir, I thank you, humbly thus Low I thank you.  
Nor will I in a compliment return  
You back this Power, till I have made you safe.  
I shall work like a Resolute, but skilful  
Surgeon, that dares feel, and search a Wound,  
And if he find deadflesh, dares cut it off,  Exeunt Omnes. 
Or more Corruption, will not spare a Limb.  Enter Clearchus habited like a Flamen. Aratus, Haimantus, and Pallantus. Ara. 
My Lord, Cupid put his hoodwink on you  
Heuses to Aime with, and then you could not  
Miss the Mark. I fear, the second View will not  
Prove so Ravishing. The most Excellent Things  
Scarce please twice.  Clear. 
My Lord, think not so;  
For were the World dark about her, or I blind  
To all things else; in Her I could find  
Variety enough; and so long as  
Her Beauties were not eclipsed, I could not  
Envy him that were so placed, as to behold  
The World as in a Map.  Ara. 
These Habits than  
My Lord, will secure your visit. Me thinks  
Your Highness becomes them Rarely well!  
You're a Person now most Sacro-sanct,  
Twice Holy, made so by your Dignity,  
And Order. We'll go before Sir, and inform  
The Princess of your Coming. You'll draw less  
Suspicion likewise if you walk alone.  Exeunt all but Clearchus. Clear. 
The King of Crete is a Usurper.  
His Son's a Villain, by their Master's Blood  
They have reached the Diadem, and by  
The Violation of his Daughter,  
Seek to support their Greatness: but this last  
Evil is still i'th' Forge, not yet completed;  
And the fair Princess looks on her destined  
Nuptials, as her Rape: her Lover, as her  
Murderer. Fates, I hope, have in their blessed Decrees  
Writme the Rescuer of this Royal Virgin,  
The winner, and the wearer of this Jewel.  
And neither the Error that threw me  
Unawares upon her close Retirement,  
Nor yet the Flame conceived from Her fair Eyes,  
Were merely Casual, but things of a Deeper  
And Diviner working. Love, who art Ruler  
Of the Destinies themselves, if Youth,  
And Greatness powerfully do invoke thee:  
If a virtuous Mind, a Spirit bold, Affections pure,  
And Constant Faith, are Oblations grateful  
To thy Altar, favour my Present Hopes,  
All these I offer to thee. And proudly  
Do exchange my peace and Quiet, for the  
Troubles, and perturbations of a passion.  
Crown but the End, and let all the Doubts,  
The sufferings, and the Dangers, that ever racked  
A lover's Soul, be made my Portion.  
Possess me then with the fullness of thy  
Deity: let not thy Shades and floury banks  
Withhold thee, make Paphos but thy Refuge,  
The Heart's thy Native soil, thy mother's Lap's  
A Banishment to it. But idly I invoke  
The God, while favourably he beckons me  
To receive my vows, and the happiness  
I Sue for, does Attend me. The hour's already past  
That Calls me to the Princess.  Exit Enter Hianthe, Aratus, Mclissa, two Ladies, Haimantus, and Pallantus. Hian. 
May I ever hope to see such happiness?  Arat. 
To enjoy it long, Madam, and know no End  
Ofit.  Hian. 
Can I be no way assistant  
To the business?  Ara. 
Only in your Prayers.  
'Tis our Task to Subdue the Men; but the Gods,  
Who must with piety be conquered, we'll leave  
Unto your goodness: And yet, Madam, methinks  
The present opportunity prompts us  
With a means, to add both Strength and Reputation  
To our affairs. This Gallant Prince (whose Visit  
You expect) is not, I find, a Stranger  
To the Interests of Crete, nor lightly resents  
The Tyranny it groans under. The power  
You seem to have o'er him, may improve  
This Compassion into a Zeal, to reinstate us  
In the liberty we have Lost.  Hian. 
My Lord  
I'll use my best Endeavours, if I find him fit  
To be engaged; Leave this particular to me.  Enter Clearchus, who puts off his Disguise with the help of Haimantus. Ara. 
Madam he's now arrived. That's he, in the disguise.  Hian. 
So fell the Cloud from off the Trojan Lord,  
Not able to Contain the rays it held,  
But being pierced dissolved at Once to Air,  
Exposing to the Worlds astonished Eye,  
A lustre rivalling the midday suns.  Clear. 
Sure I was Rude, and Barbarous, before  
This Nobler Fire did touch my Heart, and from  
The Wild Inhabitants of the Wood  
Differed in Passion only, and not Reason:  
That without more Amaze I could behold  
Such brightness; and with a ready Speech Excuse  
The Fault my Error had committed.  
I cannot now find out a Word to suit  
With my Desires; nor does the whole Store  
Afford me One, but what must prejudice  
Her Excellence, and my Estimation of it.  
Pardon Madam, that like the Ascendants  
To the Altar, by Degrees I thus approach you,  
Pausing at each Step, and bowing to that nearness.  
Rashness was my Crime before, and should I  
Throw that Blot a second time upon my Actions,  
Rudeness might be justly thought my Nature,  
And barbarity my best Knowledge.  Hian. 
My Lord, that which you call your Crime, was the  
Incivility of the Court, that left  
A Stranger to commit an Error  
So unhappy to himself. I dare not  
Undertake to Patronize the Act,  
Nor yet to Excuse it; I shall believe I have  
Obtained much, If I may be thought wholly  
To Disclaim it.  Clear. 
Madam allow me then  
To beg your Pardon, for the Presumption  
With which I made this Visit; that I thought it  
A Hard, Nay Injurious Treatment, to be forced  
To Quit this Isle, before I had the Honour  
To look upon you: for since I have beheld  
Those Wonders of Beauty you are Mistress of,  
I find my Voyage was too Short, my Hazards  
Too Slight, and Few, to be rewarded with so High  
A Favour.  Hian. 
My Lord, had you directed  
Your Words to my Misfortunes, I should have  
Acknowledged then, you had seen a rarity,  
One in the perfection, and Excellence  
Of Misery; but I have no pretence,  
No Title unto aught besides my Troubles.  
Please you, my Lord, to withdraw unto a place  
That admits not so public an access.  
Your Visit to me is not without all Danger.  Exeunt Clearchus. Hianthe, Melissa, and the Ladies. Ara. 
If I would set a Spectacle to the World,  
It should be such a Close, Where virtue  
Adored virtue, and greatness bowed to greatness.  
Me thinks the Heavens do open, and the Clouds  
Are spun into a Thread, to let down some God  
Unto this Meeting! Let us withdraw,  
The Power is now descended, and all within  
Is Sacred and Mysterious, and if we pry  
Into these Secrets, our curiosity  
Will be punished.  Exeunt Omnes. Chorms. 
while this Old Poppy thus doth sleep,  
And doth in Vice, as Age, grow deep,  
benumbing all the Plants are nigh,  
Into a drowsy lethargy.  
Behold a Nobler Branch appears,  
As far from's Manners, as his years.  
O shed Thou then thy Influence,  
And we'll resume fresh Beauties thence.  
The Fiercer sweetness of his Face,  
Presents a Rigour, mixed with Grace;  
And though there were a Want of blood,  
His Worth would make his Title Good.  
virtue's so Grown, in so Few years,  
Make Him even Such, become their fears.  
On then, and cause the sceptre be  
Thought but reserved, not snatched from Thee.   

[ACTUS 3. SCENA 1.]  Enter Aratus, Phronimus, Eurylochus, Pallantus. Aratus. 
ARe all things ready for the Ceremony?  
The Crown, and Robes?  Phro. 
They are, there's nothing wanting  
If the Prince were come.  Eury 
He's now come.  Enter Clearchus and Haimantus. Ara. 
Your Highness is welcome: but I fear it may  
Appear, to a strange Place, and Persons! What  
Do you think my Lord? Are you not fallen,  
Into the Company of so many  
Traitorous and lost Men?  Clear. 
Say not so Sir,  
You have not Warrant, though you rank yourself  
Within the Number. The Place and Persons  
Rather appear to me, as if some Holy Rite,  
Or piece of Sacred Worship were intended.  Ara. 
My Lord, you understand it right, 'tis a Piece  
Of Holy Worship and Devotion that is  
Intended by us. And I may truly say,  
That this our private Meeting, and close Counsel,  
Is more Just and Glorious, than the loudest Deed  
In Court, that all our public Acts, Edicts,  
And Forms of Law, are dark and impious,  
Compared to it. Nay, that this Time, and Place,  
Made holy by our Purposes, hath the Gods  
More manifest and present, than the Altars,  
And the Temples, long since made Void and Empty  
Of a Deity, by those which sue for  
Favours, and requests for Him (who justly  
Heard) deserves their horridest Vengeance.  
We are not met here, to Plot a general Ruin,  
For a private Injury; we know and teach,  
That the Greatest done by the King unto  
The Subject, cannot give him Cause to throw off  
His Faith; Kings are petty Gods, and may tempt us.  
Nor is it Want, or desire of Innovation  
That thus stirreth us; we are in the Best▪  
Ill-State already. Nor Ambition,  
To strike at that laurel, which the Thunder  
Spares; no, we Reverence it, and know, that  
As Men are the works of Nature, so Kings  
Of Jove. But 'tis our Oath, the Sacrament  
We took, which still holds us, though our Lord be dead,  
Until his Successor release us from it,  
By taking of a New One. We are not  
Subjects, but Slaves to Him we now Obey,  
And therefore as Slaves, we ought to hate our  
Master: He was born less than We, and hides  
The Private Man, under the public Gown.  
The Purple which he wears, was dipped deep in  
The blood of Innocents to colour't so.  
But I vainly waste myself in Words, here  
Are no Minds to be persuaded, nor Ears  
To be instructed. The sins we are to punish  
we all know, and the gods remember.  
Our strength then is all we are to speak of.  
Which is more than three parts o'th' Isle, sixteen  
Years undisturbed Provision; so carelessly  
Was that secured, which was got by Blood.  
There's but one lordship, small in respect  
Of others, the Tyrants Own Possession,  
That will be Cordial for him; but they are  
So besotted with their Fortunes, that their  
Greatest Aid, will be but in their wills to  
Do him Service. They may offer up their Lives  
Like so many Sacrifices for his sake,  
But not like soldiers, they are Unworthy  
Of that Name. They may die, but never Conquer.  
War was never talked of, but in their Banquets,  
Nor dare they Fight beyond a Brawl  Phro. 
And if we would count part of our Strength  
In their weakness, we have no Opposition.  
In the City where They and their Vices  
Are daily seen, nothing is so Contemptible.  
And in Remoter Parts, where Majesty  
Is more reverenced, being known only  
By the Power and laws, and where the name of King,  
Hears like the Name of God, even there, those sons  
O'th' Earth, as I may call 'em, dare menace him,  
And pile hills on hills, to set their bodies,  
Equal to their Hates.  Eury. 
Here we are thee my Lord;  
Can each of raise such Forces, which though  
They failed to effect it, yet could make  
The kingdom fear a Conquest.  Pall. 
Your Highness  
Is a soldier, and though but Young, perhaps  
Have seen already, what others whole Lives  
Have not shown them; yet we'll play a Game  
We dare invite You to, though you were  
Accompanied with all the Ancient Heroes.  
Who had they leave but in their airy shapes,  
To set on a Tribunal, Spectators  
Of the war, this their second Leaving of  
The Earth, should be more grievous to them, than  
Their former Deaths, and they would wish this Isle  
Might be their Elysium.  Ara. 
You see my Lord,  
How each can bring his Forces in, and prompt  
The other; Those which have none on Earth,  
Can bring them down from Heaven, in stead of Men,  
Bring Manly Spirits, words, and Looks confirming  
More than Armies.  Clear. 
M Lords, I must confess, with no small pleasure,  
I have heard the Justice, the Strength, the Courage  
Of your Cause. And for the first of which, although  
I never doubted; or from the other two  
(Meant ever to withdraw my Aid) however  
Weak; yet I am glad to see the enterprise  
So hopeful: For though most greedily I  
Should embrace all Hazards for two such Mistresses  
As Justice, and the Excellent Princess,  
Yet where their Interests are Disputed, I cannot wish to see a Danger, what  
Ever weight of Glory I might purchase  
By it. My Lords, the small Force I am Master of,  
Either in my Person, or those Commanded by me,  
Reckon on till you see us Conquer, or lie  
Upon the ground.  Ara. 
Our Designs are then successful  
Above our wishes.  
Phronimus introduct..  
The Priest, we are now ready for him. Though  Exit Phronimus 
We need nothing to strengthen our Resolutions,  
Yet we'll take an Oath: 'tis good to have the Gods  
Along with us. A Sacrament is the Tie,  
No less of loyalty, than of Treason.  
Here let us all, before this Sacred witness  Phronimus returns with a Plamen, bearing in his hand an Image. 
Of Faith and perjury, make a Holy Vow  
Of Loyalty to ourselves and Cause.  
And as we draw near to so Divine an  
Essence, consider that 'tis not Gold or Marble  
That we touch, but a model of a Sensible  
And Living Power, which has vouchsafed to be  
Embraced by One Hand, when the vastness of  
Our Thoughts could not comprehend it.  Here they all seek to take an Oath, by Kissing of the Image. Exit Eurylochus. 
Now we are ready for the Prince. Eurylochus  
Conduct him in. Your Grace shall see a Stronger  
Persuasion, than any you have yet heard,  
The lively Image of Her you so much Serve.  
He knows not yet his Fortunes, but I dare  
Warrant He'll bear them bravely. He has read  
The Lives of Kings, though he never acted  
Any; and you shall perceive he's Princely-Born,  
Though not bred in Court.  Eurylochus returns with Cleander. 
Royal Sir, you're welcome!  
Start not at the Name, it is your Due, You  
Were born to the Title: and I doubt not,  
Though you never heard it thus applied before,  
'Tis not altogether Strange unto you  
There was a Spark, which in the first Womb,  
After a special Manner was infused  
Into you, and is another Soul  
Within you; as the One informs your Body,  
So this informs your Soul; we may call't  
The Difference of a King. That will tell you,  
We are all here your Subjects, and this  
No Strange philosophy I teach. And though  
This Rich Perfume hath hitherto been wrapped  
In this Disguise of Learning, and defended  
From the air o'th' Court, 'tis not decayed,  
But grown stronger by such keeping; which when  
It shall be opened, will cast a fragrant  
Smell o'er all the kingdom, and cure the Infections  
Of the Former Age. To open it we  
Are met, it is a Medicine we too long  
Have languished for. And Sir, though it be a short  
Warning to so Great a Matter, you must  
Presently resolve to be a King. We  
Have no time now to instruct you in  
Your Right, and how you lost it. It was years  
In doing, and will require years to relate it.  
In the mean time, let what you see persuade you,  
Our Serious looks, Respects, and the Presence  
Of these Holy Rites.  Clean. 
I need not excuse  
My want of Answer, there's nothing fit for me  
To say: Which way so e'er I shall declare  
Myself to this Purpose, will appear Foolish.  
Whether I Refuse, or Grant, both are alike  
Ridiculous. 'Tis not with Me, as with  
Elder years, They may refuse Offers like these,  
And be admired for such their Moderation;  
Or accept them, and for that magnanimity  
Be honoured. But should I assume an Action,  
So many years above my Age, I must  
Expose myself a pageant to the beholder's  
Scorn and Laughter. My Lord, That which I have  
To say is, only this. My years are yet in nonage,  
My Actions not my Own, to Others Wills  
I am wholly Subject. you may Command me  
Even to Wear a Crown, and to submit to  
Accept the Highest Honours. Set me, if  
You please, on the Throne you speak of, and when  
You see a time again, remove me. Yet,  
My Lord, I'd have you know, I am not so Young,  
But that I understand I am a Subject, and that  
I have a King; that thus, though but in Sport,  
To Use his Titles is a Fault, But for  
Any to Acknowledge such a Spirit,  
As you, my Lord, have spoken, is no less  
A Traitor, than he which strikes the Crown from off  
His Head.  Arat. 
You have been heavenly taught, and shall  
Be ever instructed in such Lectures.  
But the Treason which is committed, is  
Committed 'gainst yourself, your Spirit is  
Usurped, and he that holds it is your Servant,  
As I am, or at least should be so. Sir,  
The time presses now, and we cannot use  
The Circumstances necessary to  
Persuade you; but what ever appears Strange  
At this time to you, a few day's use will  
Render most familiar. Sir, please you ascend,  
Yond place is provided for you— Submit  Cleander expresses a modest unwillingness. 
Now, and Command ever. My Lord, will you  
Please to honour us with your Assistance.  Here they take off from Cleander his black habit, and put on him a Rich Robe, Clearchus, and the Flamen, set the Crown upon his Head, and the rest stand before him, and salute him King. Omnes 
The Gods preserve the King.  Ara. 
We have now performed one part of our Duty,  
Which was to seat you thus, the next is,  
With our Lives to keep you at this Height.  Clean. 
If I may yet take confidence to speak,  
And it will become me to say something of  
Myself. I could tell you, how this Day hath  
Been familiar to me, and in a Dream  
I have seen these things so often, that did  
Not these Shouts confirm me, which were then still  
The concluders of my greatness, I could not  
Yet believe, but that I have now suffered  
Is airy all, and the Shape I see merely  
Fantastic.  Flamen. 
It was a Good and prosperous  
Omen, which presaged your Quiet here.  
The Gods would not suffer you to rest in  
A Wrong place.  Omnes 
May it be so.  Here Aratus presents Clearchus to Cleander, seeming to inform him who he is, he descends and embraces him, the rest pay their homage by kissing his hand, in the mean time Pallantus speaks. Pall. 
And shall I alone in such a Glorious  
Action walk unseen? And as a Fault,  
Perform my Duties in Disguise? I'll rather  
Add a Trumpet, and a Flag to all my  
Actions. Here fall my Mist away, Now  
Thou only bar'st me from my joys, to which  
I am not near enough, unless I can  
Embrace. Give me leave my Lords, that as my life,  
So I may throw my Body at his Feet,  
I have a share in him, I though a Stranger  
To you. It was my father's purchase,  
With his Life he bought it, nor desire I  
To hold it by another Patent. May  
Such be the Noted End Successively  
Of all our Name, No Disease, but our Master's  
Cause to die of. Here let me Kneel, and pray  
All happiness, and the Best things may fall,  
And then rise, and with my Sword, procure the  
Blessing s I have prayed for. Know me my Lords,  
I am Pallantus.  Phre. 
Eury. Pallantus!  Ara. 
Pallantus!  
My dearest Friend, proved my nearest Kinsman!  
Could I be so dull as to imagine  
Such Valour could be in a shape so low  
As thy outside promised? Or so common,  
As to be met by Chance? That I could love  
Thee so, and yet have no Interest in thee?  
Where hast thou been so long Dead? Sir look upon  
This Man, that turns our joys thus from you, your  
Party is made strong by his Discovery,  
‛ Has brought such Unexpected Aid within  
Himself! You're to receive him Sir, not only  
As a Servant, but a Kinsman.  Clean 
My Lord,  
I am as yet in a New World, and know  
No more, than if I now began to live,  
The most Common things, are Wonders to me.  
You must excuse me therefore, if I know not  
How to entertain such Accidents as these,  
But I shall make't my Labour every day  
To understand my Duty, of the which  
I think it no small part, to give the due  
Value to every worth I meet.  Clear. 
Sir, as a new friend let me embrace you,  
But this Alteration shall not give me leave  
To forget the former Favours I am  
Obliged to you for. What I received in  
Your Disguise, I shall be ever ready  
To pay unto yourself.  Arat. 
How it grieves me  
To see thy Beauties thus blasted in thy Youth,  
War hath been too rough a Mistress to thee,  
And set thy glories in too Eminent a place.  
Had Venns been i'th' Camp, she would  
Have covered thee with Mars his shield, although  
The God himself had wanted it. I can  
Remember when the Loveliest Face compared  
With thine, could not have taken from thee. When  
In the brightest Ring of Beauties, thou appeard'st  
But well-set; and hadst thou been attired like  
One of them, thou might'st have won the Prize  
Of fairness from a Coure of Ladies.  Pall. 
My Lord, they are well lost: but those which were  
The Causers of it, shall receive Wounds as deep,  
If not so disfiguring, and afford their blood  
To wash the Scars they have made.  Ara. 
They shall,  
And we will help to bathe thee. 'Tis time that  
We broke up our meeting, our longer stay  
May prove dangerous. Phronimus and Eurylochus  
You must post this Night to your Commands.  
Your Majesty must bear'em Company.  
And now without more delay show yourselves:  
We will be ready here at the first news.  
My Lord, your Navy also will require  
Strict watch and guard, on our first Motion  
That will be attempted.  Clear. 
Haimantus, you  
Shall presently away, and take the Charge  
Upon yourself.  Ara. 
Pray do so my Lord.  
All we have to do, is to mingle ourselves  
In the Court again. When once these troubles  
Sir, are o'er, a perpetual Calm will follow.  Clean. 
My Lord, I never enjoyed safety, so pleasing as these Dangers.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Timeus reading a Letter. 
— By the next Post I shall send your Highness the whole Design of the Conspiracy we have so long suspected; in the mean time, know Aratus, Phronimus, and Eurylochus are the three great Diseases of the kingdom.—  
But not incurable. I know which way  
To handle 'em. There must be some sudden  
Remedy applied, that will work strongly.  
This Night I'll send it. Be absent all ye  
Lazy Medicines which the Law administers,  
Ye are more treacherous, than the Villain  
Ye examine; and where there was none, give  
Time to act Mischief: Your Summons are  
The traitor's watchword, and drive him to take  
That Opportunity, which otherwise  
His Fears would have let slip. Myself will be  
The Accuser, and the Judge. When public  
Means are dangerous, each Prince hath the Courts  Enter Pallan. 
Of justice in his Breast— What Fiend is this,  
That causes such Antipathy within me?  
The midnight Ghosts take not shapes so horrid!  
I have not slept, since first he crossed me!  Pall. 
We are alone. The Gods have given this time  
For my Revenge.  Time. 
What does he mutter to himself?  
Coracin s, Argestes— Kill that Dog.  Cora. 
My Lord!  Timeus. 
Kill that Dog— Cowardly Villains,  
It were a justice to leave you to the Worrying.  Enter Coracinus and Argestes, they assavit Pak. but he worsts 'em till Time. assists 'em, and makes him retire, they all pursue him off of the Stage. Within Treason, treason, save the Prince, treason. Timeus, Coracinus, Argestes return, bloody. Time. 
He was a Devil! The Power of Hell was in  
His arm; Night threw her shades about him  
To defend him! He could not thus have scaped,  
Unless he had vanished! Is he o'er-taken yet?  Enter a Servant. Serv. 
No my Lord. But 'tis impossible he should  
Pass the Court. Sure he has taken Covert  
In some Lodgings thereabouts.  Time. 
Let search be made,  
And give Command, That when he appears again,  
He that first meets him, without more Circumstance,  
Do ki'l him. Promise a Reward to him  
That brings his Head.  Exit Servant. Enter Clearchus and Aratus to the rest with their Swords drawn. Clear. 
How do you my Lord?  Time. 
Well.  Ara. 
Is your highness' hurt?  Time. 
And may be again, if I look not warily.  
Would your lordship's Sword were sheathed.  Ara. 
Sir, 'twas drawn  
In your Defence: and if you're Jealons of it,  
You wrong a Ready-hand to do you Service.  Clear. 
Sir, is not the Traitor known that did it?  Time. 
No doubt he is.  Clear. 
My Lord, you speak  
Very doubtfully. I hope you do not think,  
But I am sorry for the Accident  Time. 
I know not what to think. Your Disposition's  
As great a Stranger to me as your Person,  Clear. 
I see, my Lord, you know to throw Injuries,  
Though to confer no Civilities on  
A Stranger.  Time. 
Injuries are deseru'dly placed  
On an Intruding Guest.  Clear. 
You're Unworthy.  They both draw, and are held as under. 
And though I am encompassed with all the  
Dangers I may Justly fear from so Barbarous  
A Place, which dares do any thing it Lusts unto,  
Without regard of laws or hospitality,  
I'd tell you so. And were you from this Dunghill  
That you stalk on ('tis no better) I'd pull down  
That unmannered Pride within you.  Time. 
Let me go,  
Nothing shall privilege him to talk thus.  Clear. 
They hold you in your safety. Nor is the Distance  
twixt your Life and Death, longer than this Space  
‛ That parts us. If you dare, follow me,  
I'll stay you out a day's Sail at Sea,  
I Challenge you to a Princely combat.  
Where come with all your power, that I may  
Destroy so many Brute-Beasts from off the Earth.  Exit Clearchus. Time. 
Shall I be tied while I am bated?—  
I'll send those tha shall o'ertake you, and cut  
You off, before your Shipping yet. Argestes,  
Haste unto the Port presently, and in  
My father's Name, Command all speedy Power  
Be raised to stop the Prince. Bid'em fire his  
Ships i'th'Haven—  Ara. 
O my Lord, consider  
A little more, before you lay a Blot  
Upon the Nation, which Future Ages  
Cannot wipe off. No Story can parallel  
Such a Fact. Your highness moved him much,  
And gave him Cause of choler.  Time. 
Does he help  
Your Lordship with Ships? that thus you plead his Cause.  
Shall I be tutored by a Traitor?  Ara. 
Sir, you're happy if you can find a Tutor,  
When you thus much need one. And for your other  
Language, when I understand it, I'll return you  
An Answer, in the mean time, you must take it  
Home to you as you gave it  Time. 
'Tis well Sir,  
I shall find other ways, than Words to Answer you.  Enter the King, Polyander, Menetius, Comastes, and a Guard. King. 
How now Timeus! What, bloody?  Time. 
No more  
Than you see, Sir. The Sword rather left it  
On me, than drew it out.  King. 
Who is the Traitor,  
That durst commit such Outrage?  Time. 
He's escape unknown.  King. 
Unknown? that cannot be, when he has past  
Thus far i'th' Court, some must take notice of him.  
Can you describe him?  Time. 
He was habited  
Like a soldier; but his looks had more of  
Devil than of Man.  King. 
Upon my Life  
I saw him! but 'tis two days since. He must  
Be known in all this time. Inquire who brought in  
Any such Man, or was seen with him.  Com. 
This can be  
nobody but my hobgoblin. an't please  
Your highness, was he not in a buffcoat?  
And had his Face all bedabled with Patches?  Time. 
Yes, he had so.  Com. 
Then do I know him,  
He belongs to my Lord Aratus there.  
nobody durst speak to him but he,  
He showed his teeth at everybody else.  
He had like to have bit me once.  King. 
Aratus,  
Do you hear? They say, he, that committed  Aratus stands in a study after his heat with Timeus, and minds not what's said 
This villainy, belongs to you.  Ara. 
To me, Sir?  
He wrongs me that thinks so. I maintain none  
That dare attempt such Insolence Poly. My Lord,  
I saw him with you.  Ara. 
Who? pray make me know  
The Man.  Poly. 
A black stern soldier that followed you.  Ara. 
I fear I understand you now!  aside. 
There is such a One that follows me; but  
I never discovered any disloyal  
Spirit in him. His outside, 'tis true, was  
As you describe, not moulded after the  
Common Frame of Men, but threatened more than  
Any I have seen: Yet 'twas but his outside  
That threatened so. Within he was Gentle,  
All a Courtier, to be wound and turned by  
The least civility. I must confess,  
When he was injured, than he was High, and  
Lordly, storms rose in's looks, and Thunder  
Was in his voice.  King. 
And you knowing this,  
How durst you turn such a Wild Beast loose into  
The Court? Whom had I met, and chanced to have  
Angered, my fortune had been the same.  
Lay hands on him. You shall find that such a Spirit  The Guard lay hold of Aratus. 
Dwells in my breast too, and when 'tis stirred,  
Will raise tempests as great. We shall find  
Other particulars beside to examine you of.  Ara. 
Then the Gods send their aid, or all is lost!  aside. 
Yet, Sir, hear me speak. The Jealousies you  
Have of me, I shall not perhaps be able  
At this present to Clear; and indeed I  
Know not so much as what they are. But Sir,  
To show you in this last Accident how much  
I am Innocent. I will relate unto you,  
How first I met the Actor of it. 'Twas on that Day  
I was employed on an Honourable  
Message from your majesty to the Stranger  
Prince, On the Shore I found him, having lately  
Escape a shipwreck, and as great a Danger  
On the Land; for he had been assaulted  
By two villains that were in the same Voyage  
With him, the cause of whose hate he could not tell,  
Having no acquaintance with them, but in  
The Ship; but as he had before the Waves,  
So in this Tempest too, as I may call it,  
He bore himself above. In the instant,  
While he was yet hot in his Anger,  
And their blood, we came upon him—  Time. 
Pray Sir let me speak to you. There's a Wonder  
Discovered to me by this Relation!  
And under this Monster, he hath Spoke of,  
A greater doth lie hid; One that you'd rather  
Have in chains, than all the list of Traitors  
I have named. Sir, commit the Uucasing  
Him to me, and suffer me to proceed  
With Aratus, as I shall see cause.  Exeunt all but Timeus, Aratus, and the Guard. King. 
Take your way, I'll leave him to you.  Time. 
My Lord, with the persuasion of your  
Innocence, I have procured your Freedom  
Of my Father; and do desire in Return  
Of this kindness (if it be such) to let  
Me see the face of this my Enemy  
Once more, if your Acquaintance (as appears  
By your words) be not too late to know his  
Abode. My Lord, I shall receive him otherwise  
Than you expect. The Relation you have  
Made of him, and what myself was witness of,  
Have turned my Hate into Admiration  
Of him, and if I can move his Love, as  
I have done his Anger, I shall be happy  
In his Valour. 'Tis not the first time that  
The brau'ry of Enemies, have made them Friends,  
And that Wounds, have been the first Seals of Love,  
I do consider how much I injured him,  
And that on such provocation, he could not  
Have done less, At the first sight I called him Dog,  
And without more Circumstance commanded  
To have him killed.  Ara. 
Now Sir, I must kneel to you,  
You have the goodness of a Prince. He shall  
Submit for his Offence, or suffer for it.  
And if you find not that Noble Spirit  
In him, I have told you of, in the most  
Dangerous Business you shall employ him,  
Let him be punished for this his ill-placed-valour.  Time. 
My Lord, I'll take no other Surety,  
But your Word; ever oblige me thus.  Exit Timeus and Guard. Ara. 
But my Lord, though I can Answer,  
I cannot give Credit to your smooth Tongue.  
This last Accident might have lost all. I'll  
Hazard no more by my delays. And seeing  
They know not their time to strike, I'll teach 'em  
Both the How, and When to do it. Before  
To morrow this time, I'll ring their Dull  
Security such an Alarm—  Enter Haimantus disguised like a sailor. Haim. 
My Lord,  
Prince Clearchus Salutes you.  Ara. 
Ha! Prince Clearchus  
Saidst thou? Come nearer friend.  Haim. 
Do you not know me  
My Lord?  Ara. 
My Lord Haimantus! I crave your  
Pardon. How fares the Prince?  Haim. 
Well, and both He,  
And my Lord Pallantus (who happily made  
His Escape to our Ships from his Pursuers)  
Have sent me in this Disguise, to let you know,  
The Block-house is privately surrendered  
To 'em: in which they now are, with three hundred  
Of our Selectest Men: and undertake  
With this strength to rescue the Princess Hianthe  
This Even, if the state of your other Affairs  
Will suffer it. Our Navy besides rides Clear,  
And disengaged near to the Block-house,  
Where they can land what greater Force they please.  Ara. 
Hum. The Gallant Prince, and bold Pallantus safe,  
The Block-house surrendered, and the Ships at hand  
Both for a Reserve, and a Retreat— Why should  
They not attempt it? My Lord, tell'em,  
Their Design is Noble, and like Themselves,  
Full of Youth, of Fire, of Bravery, of Justice:  
That where such Spirits as theirs move in any  
Action, all Designs ought to Follow, and  
Not Lead; they make the Period, and the points  
Of Business. Say, I do not only approve,  
Of this their Purpose, but will Assist 'em  
In their Retreat, and at the same time give  
A Divertisement, by some hundreds of  
Great shot poured into the City. Come my Lord  
I'll direct you a way to return less  
Hazardous than that you came in hither.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Hianthe. 
The time of their great Plot is now complete,  
The hours are finished. O let it not You,  
Which look down, which favourablylook down  
Upon this Isle, want your Power which first  
Did strengthen it; let the same Hand that bid,  
Disclose it too! Shame not at so Glorious  
An offspring, when it is Heavenly, and doth  
Confess the Father, when none but Gods dare  
Call it theirs, nor without Blasphemy can  
Own it. Ye were kind Parents at the first,  
Show yourselves still so, and Rear the Child ye  
Have Gotten. Where human strength shall fail, there  
Hold it up, and make that Want, the Strongest.  Enter Mellssa. Mel. 
Madam, I now met my Lord  Ara 
us,  
Who entreats your Highness to keep within  
Your Lodgings this Night, and to fear nothing  
What ever embroilments you hear abroad,  
Or near you.  Enter Timeus. Time. 
Madam, I come to tell you,  
The Infection, which caused this your Retirement,  
Is now cleared up, and vanished, and abroad  
You may safely bless us with your Presence:  
The Court has for these days suffered an Eclipse,  
But when it shall again show forth its Beams,  
Your beauties, it will look more Glorious,  
By its short Obscuring.  Enter the King, Comastes, Minetius. King. 
Weil said Timeus.  
Now I like thee; here thy Cares and Services  
Are bent the right way; would I could see thee  
Once look pale in these. Can a young Man (when  
He may have leave to breath in such a Paradise  
As this) draw a common air? an air o'th' People?  
I am loath to change thy present thoughts: but  
The business I have to tell thee, will bring  
Thee peace, and more leisure for them. The suspicion  
Thou hadst of a Treason, was not Vain; since  
It hath broke out; but 'tis already suppressed.  
The two Chief of'em are taken in their passage,  
As they went to Head their Forces. And I  
Have commanded they be set so High,  
As to enjoy a Large View of that Land they  
Were Ambitious of, and then to strangle 'em  
At that Height.  Time. 
Are there but two, Sir, of Note  
That you have taken? Flatter not yourself,  
Had they been thousands, they had left more behind.  
Your Majesty counts that a Victory,  
Which they scorn to account a Loss; and think  
You're safe, when they are not endangered.  
Is Aratus, Phronimus, or Eurylochus,  
Among them? Is Pallantus one of the two  
Are taken?  King. 
Pallantus! Thou dreamest of the Dead,  
And the Ages past.  Time. 
Sir, he's Living,  
And if my aims deceive me not, he has  
Lately walked among us, and makes up the Knot  
Of Traitors— Ha!  King. 
What can this mean! Look out!  A volley of Great Shot interrupts their discourse, and they stand amazed. Enter Polyander. Poly. 
Sir, arm speedily, put yourself within  
Your Strength, or you're lost. The Block-house  
Is revolted, Prince Clearchus pours Men  
In swarms upon the Shore, Aratus has  
Seized both the Gate and Fort that lead unto  Great Shot still. 
The Haven, and thunders, as you hear,  
Upon the City.  Time. 
These were the evils  
I was a Prophet of, I saw them when  
They were disguised. Sir, 'tis no time now to Stand,  
But do.  King. 
Madam, we entreat your Pardon,  
That thus we have offended 'gainst your peace,  
And made you the first partaker of our Troubles,  
That aught to have Known them Last.  Hian. 
Sir, your Trouble  
Is too sad to be excused.  Mel. 
How likes your  
Highness the Serenade of this fair Evening?  Exeunt all but Hian. Meliss. Hian. 
I like it well Melissa, but I fear;  
My Solicitude and Care are too great  
To admit a perfect Joy—  A Tumult and noise of Weapons are heard at the Door. Within. 
Stand, stand.  Clea. Within. 
Gentlemen stir not, if you'll save your Lives;  
We come to serve the Princess.  Enter Clearchus, Pallantus, and Haimantus, with their Swords drawn. Clear. 
Madam, you're safe, fear nothing. If you please  
To put yourself into our protection,  
You may for ever bid a farewell to  
This your Hated Prison. My Lord, Pallantus,  
Guard the Princess, and make the Retreat with  
All the Speed you can. The Honour of bringing up  
The Rear in this Action, I can impart to none.  Within. 
Arm, arm, arm.  The Princess and Melissa go off with Clearchus and his Party, a tumultuous noise of fighting continues for some time after. Then enter at another door, as in sight, Timeus and his Party, who are beaten back by Clearchus and his Party. Timeus is struck to the ground by Clearchus, but rescued by his followers; which done, Clearchus retires Orderly, and the rest remain. Enter Polyander to them. Poly. 
On the ground, my Lord!  Time. 
Lower and baser yet,  
Viler in my Condition Polyander,  
Than this my Posture. Affronted, baffled, scorned,  
Wounded by Traitors, and by Dishonour  
Deeper. The Princess in my very sight  
Born from me.  Poly. 
My Lord, these Wrongs dictate Revenge,  
And not Complaints, show your Resentments with  
Your Sword And let what you Have call your thoughts  
To it, and not what you have lost.  Time. 
Lead on.  Exeunt Omnes. CHORUS. 
While He that should be Eye and Ear,  
Through Sloth doth neither See nor Hear,  
Behold like Thunder comes a Sound,  
Which doth at once Amaze and Wound;  
" That Dart sure hits, which Clouds did hide,  
" And safely Kills, 'cause undescried.  
" Where Dangers urge, he that is slow,  
" Takes from Himself, and adds to's Foe.  
Th' are come beyond a Whisper now.  
And boldly dare proclaim their Vow.  
" When the Prey's sure, to show the Snare,  
" Begets not Counsel, but Despair.  
Like Lightning it awakes the sense,  
only to see, and grow Blind thence.  
" 'Tis Love, not Faction, where the Good,  
" Conspire to spill Usurping Blood.   

[ACTUS 4. SCENA 1.]  Aratus and Pallantus are discovered sitting at a Table, with Pen, Ink, Paper, and Mathematical Instruments before them. Aratus. 
BEsides this great Work, we must have two less  
On either hand of it; and which must first  
Be made, no less to secure the Work in doing,  
Than when 'tis done; two common Horn-Works  
Will be sufficient for this purpose. Would they  
Were finished.  Pall. 
My Lord, commit the Charge of'em  
To me, I'll both hasten the labour, and stand  
Upon the Guard till they be done.  Enter Clearchus and Hianthe to them. Hian. 
Do you hear the Rumour my Lords?  Ara. 
No, Madam.  
What is't?— What Fatal Check can our Affairs  Hianthe answers not presently, as one troubled at what they are to utter. 
Receive, that it should want a Tongue to speak it?  
Which hitherto have been so prosperous, so sull  
Of fresh successes, that our whole counsels  
Have been employed, but how to Entertain,  
And make best Uses of'em.  Hian. 
'Tis reported,  
That the King's taken.  Ara. 
Horror and Amazement  
Seize me on the bare Relation! But such  
A prodigy cannot be! So Divine  
A Person, was never thrown away so  
Cheaply. Though the Gods abound in all Goodness,  
They never Lightly yet esteemed of any;  
That were not to show their Plenty, but their  
Contempt of virtues. Excellent Lady,  
Say the Particulars of this Report.  
Was there any of the King's Age made mention of?  Hian. 
No, the Account we have is this, That two Lords  
That were in their passage to raise Forces,  
Are taken by a Troop of Horse of the  
Adverse Party. My Brother being yet  
In his Disguise, and not known, is conceived  
To have past for one of their followers.  They stand all silent for a time as confounded with the belief of this relation, Pall. first recovers, and speaks the following speech as to himself. Pall. 
Where are all our Great words now? Those  
Mighty sounds which made a trembling in the air,  
And caused no less a deafness with their fall,  
Than if Thunder, the voice of Heaven were turned  
Articulate, and spoke the Threats of Jove  
Unto the word? Changed to as great a Silence?  
Such when a Tempest ceases, is the Calm  
That follows, no noise is heard; as if the winds  
With Blasts were Breathless grown, and the Seas  
Sat down, and after so much toil required Ease.  
But a True and Noble Spirit, ought not  
To sink under Misfortune, but bear up  
The stronger; and if the state be Desperate,  
To attempt ways as Desperate to Change it.  
No Action can be counted Folly,  
Where no Counsel can be given for Any.  
Rashness is Bravery, or wisdom then, when  
The Best Hope is but Destruction. I will do  
Something, And where the gods have given a Will,  
We ought not in their Service to sit still.  Exit Pallantus. Hian. 
I was born, and bred up in Miseries,  
And the Misfortunes I have past, were not  
To excuse my following Age from more,  
But to prepare me only to suffer  
Greater yet, and stranger.  Clear. 
My Lord,  
Recollect yourself. This news may be false, and all  
The Danger the King is in, may be from your believing it.  
Give not yourself cause to mourn hereafter,  
All perished on a Mistake. If that this,  
The worst of Evils, be befalln, yet  
It ought not to be the reason of your  
Neglect, but greater Care and Vigilance.  
Though much be Lost, yet that Remains, may well  
Expect your best Thoughts to it. Look upon  
That Lady, too much swallowed up in Grief,  
Through our so low Dejection. If you have  
Lost a King, consider in Her you've still  
A Queen, and such a One, as for whose Service,  
You would not think your dearest blood too precious,  
Were it not frozen with your present sorrows.  Ara. 
My Lord, I thank you, and will follow your  
Advise. Pardon my Amazement, and if  
I seemed dead, when the life of all my Actions  
Was taken from me. Yet 'twas not a Slumber  
I was lost in, but a Confusion of  
Various thoughts, not knowing which to follow,  
Till your Highness pointed me one forth.  
We'll act something now so speedily, that  
They shall not have leave to put an ill Design  
In practice. Madam, revive your gentle  
Spirits, happier things attend you, than now  
You know, or hope for— The news—  Hian. 
What news my Lord?  Ara. 
Such as is not to be named  Enter a Serv. who Delivers Ara. a letter, which he opens hastily. 
Without a Sacrifice! O see Madam!  
Though we have lost, we are not yet Undone;  
There's a Check, but not a Total ruin  
Of our Fortunes. The King, Paronimus, and  
Eurylochus. are all safe, and never  
Were in Danger; this Night they will be here  
With their full Power.  Hian. 
My joys are then restored me,  
I shall see my Brother  Clear. 
My Lord, who are they  
Are taken, and have given occasion for  
This Mistake?  Ara. 
Two that stood boldly for our Party.  
More besides, their Name's there, and that they were  
Honest, I cannot now instruct your Highness.  
You may perceive, they, which have no such Cause  
Of joy as we have, do lament them much.  
We shall have a time too, I doubt not, both  
To mourn and revenge their fall. In the mean time,  
Let 'em rest in Peace and Honour. Such a  
Farewell, were I in their Condition,  
I should have expected. They have only  
Outstripped us in the payment of a Debt  
We all owe unto our Master, ours is Due,  
Though yet not called for. Come Madam, we must  
Prepare to meet the King, and after that what  
E'er our souls can wish for. But where's  
Pallantus, absent from this happy news?  Ser. 
He went forth my Lord a little before  
The arrival of the Letters.  Ara. 
We shall meet him.  
Joys of this nature will never come too late.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter the King and Timeus. Time. 
Sir, though there are Troubles in your Affairs,  
Let none be in your Countenance. Your Eyes,  
Should like those blessed Twin-fires upon the Ship,  
Display a Prosperous Flame, a light of Joy,  
And Comfort round about; that they which toil  
In the Rage, and Fury of this Tempest,  
May from thence foresee a Calm, and nourish  
Hopes of safety. Thus you wrong your Power,  
Destroying it yourself, 'cause others would.  
The soldier groans, just as you groan, their pulses  
Have the same Motion, and their Hearts do beat  
Both Hope, and Fear, according as yours doth.  
All Omen comes from you, your Passion is not  
A single Sadness, 'tis the people's too.  
When you confess a Fear, none dares be Bold,  
Courage is thought a Folly, not a virtue.  
Your Mirth were now Discretion, and a Face  
Cheerful as at a Feast, were Policy,  
'Twould be one kind of Succour.  King. 
Timeus  
I thank thee: But these joys come from Above,  
And are not to be taken when we please:  
No Man can pronounce, He will be happy.  
Yet I will struggle with my Thoughts, and strive  
To recover the Peace, that's fled from me.  
But let not this thing Discomfort you,  
Perhaps 'tis a course of Humours only,  
And a little physic may remove it.  Time. 
With the Comfort and hope of this, I'll leave  
You Sir. And if the Genius that attends  
Your Person, smile upon us, no other  
Evil shall dismay us. Shall I bear any  
Commands from you to the Camp?  King. 
Only my Salutations. The Charge of all  
Do thou take upon thee. To morrow if  
This Fit leave me, I'll visit you,  
How every thing is irksome to me! Clouds  Exit Timeus. 
And darkness are before my Eyes,  
All things dissenting one from the other,  
Yet Conspire in this, that they present Death  
To my View. I have that Idle Comfort  
Only left, That he that despairs of All,  
Aught to fear Nothing. When things cannot grow worse,  
All fortune than is on His Side that Suffers.  
But my Injustice seconded with Murder,  
Do forbid success. A kingdom reared in blood  
Stands on a slippery Foundation.  
And I have been nourished in Peace thus long,  
That being grown Specious and Great, I may  
At last fall a Sacrifice worth Slaughter.  
Thoughts urge Thoughts; suspicion gets suspicion;  
Horror Horror; I have not that small settledness  
Of Mind, as to think one thing twice. Were I  
But Innocent, I would provoke Misfortune,  
Call for Fate with as undaunted Courage,  
As the Lord and Ruler of it doth— Hold.  An uproar at the door, Pallantus rushes in, and wounds the King, the Guard follow on him. 
I command you hold.— What a Nothing 'tis  
That I have thus much feared, and laboured  
To escape, when 'twas my Good! Childishly  
Dreading every Thought of Cure, then most Offended,  
When my Health was near. How Well I am  
After this Little Wound! Quiet of Mind,  
And Peace of Conscience, those blessed Companions,  
Begin to return unto me. I see  
Nothing but blood can appease blood in Sacrifice;  
That to the guilty there's no Ease, but Death,  
No Mercy, like the cross, Oh!— Hold in your Rage.  As the King shows signs of weakness through his wound, the Guard make offer to kill Pallantus. 
Have ye not already acted mischiefs  
Enough by my Command, but ye must  
Voluntarily thrust yourselves on more?  
You're deceived, though I have been hitherto  
A Tyrant, now I am merciful, and would  
Gladly behold things Just and Innocent.  Cap. 
He faints. The Villain must not live.  King. 
I Command you hold. My Power is yet Good.  
You are the villains, the True Causers of  
This my misery, and you should Lay Hands  
Upon yourselves. How Ridiculous is this  
Your fury? Suppose I should give way  
To your Desires, what were you the Safer,  
Or I the Better? You would have One Foe less,  
And I one sin more, that am already  
Loaden. Does not my Judgement affright you  
Rather? I was not only guilty, your  
Hands were dipped in the same blood with mine, nay,  
Oft performed such Deeds, I only durst but Wish.  
Had I given you my Commission, Obedience  
Here would not have excused you. Your loyalty  
To Me was but at Best a Broken Faith  
Unto another, and when ye observed  
It most, ye were most perjured. What can  
Ye expect? Ye see when I was Guarded  
By an Host, was thought Secure from what the  
Power of Earth or Men could do unto me,  
One Man, as I may say, One handful of  
That Earth, broke through all my Safeties, and with  
A Single arm has forced what a Million  
Could not keep: and when no human means was found,  
Yet there was a Miracle to Conquer me.  The Guard relent. 
To you I turn now no more my Terror,  
In Return of this Favour you have found,  
Show the like to These, and Others, that shall  
Be guilty of that Name, Of Friends to Me.  
Though You are Nothing yet, this Deed will make  
You powerful: and You that have given them All,  
May demand back so Small a Part.  
Now you have been so much my enemy,  
Change something to a Friend— How vainly  
I take Care for Lesser things, neglecting  
My Chief Concernments. O my Timeus!  
O my Poor Eudora!— Leave me not yet my Soul.  
Thou canst not mount until the Load be taken  
From thy Wing. Thou couldst inhabit here  
When it was Hell, now it is Paradise,  
O stay— and dwell—  He dies, and the Guard run and bear up his body. Pall. 
Though the Fall be Great, it cannot shake me,  
When I know 'tis Just. The malefactor's  
Penitence takes not the Justice of his  
Doom away; though He be changed, That remains  
Unstained. He may die with pity, but not  
With Innocence. They mind me not, I'll take  
This Advantage of their Sorrow for my  
Escape; I will not trust their Obedience  
To a Dead Command.  Cap. 
Leave your sad Embraces,  Exit Pallantus. 
They'll bring no Comfort to you, though you persist  
In'em, till you are such as this you hold.  
This ground of Sorrow will afford a perpetual  
Supply of Moisture, which your Eyes, like suns,  
May draw up, and pour down for ever; but  
Never exhale a Satisfaction to you.  
Let us to the Prince, and there unburden  
Our hearts of this our grief, and if he have  
A Service that commands our Lives, all hazards  
Now will be welcome to us.  1. Guard. 
The Villain  
That committed this Sacrilegious Act's escaped!  2. Guard. 
We were too soft to obey Dying-Speech.  Cap. 
His Entrance and Escape were ordained  
Both by Fate, 'twas not in Our Power to hinder Either.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Timeus. 
Give me a Power mighty as my Rage,  
That my Revenge may reach unto the Clouds,  
And unthrone those Gods, that joined hands with Men  
To commit so Black a Deed. It were but  
Justice they should lose their deity, that  
So would throw it off. Oh my Father! did I  
Unload thy Shoulders of the kingdom,  
That thou might'st fall under a less Weight?  
And bereft thee of thy Jealousies, to  
Ruin thee with more Assurance only?  
Where are all those flattering Tongues, that when  
There was no Need, would, in a compliment,  
Hourly Suffer for Thee? Not One to die  
In thy Defence? Or by his fall to make  
Thine more Decent? What ho, Charisius,  
Erastus, Acmanthes, not one voice?  
How dismal is this Place! The Graves where Death  
Inhabits are not so dreadful! l I'll fly thee,  
Though I run among the thickest of my Foes,  
They can present no Horrors like this lowness;  
The Cries, the Sword, the Trumpet in the battle,  
Strike not so deep Amazement!—  
I walk like  He goes out, as in search of some of those that had wont to attend, and returns again. 
Aeneas among the Shades, all is Hell  
About me! I see nothing but what my  
Fancy frames in Horrid Shapes! O ye vain fears  
Of guilty Men! All are Unreasonable,  
But yours Ridiculous. When you have contemned  
The greatest and most real Dangers,  
You tremble at a Ghost, a Thing less than a Man,  
And when the Substance could not, the Shadow  
Frights you. There is no way but this to set me  
Above my fears; when I am less I shall  
Be equal to 'em.  Cap. 
O hold, my Lord!  He prepares to fall on his Sword, and the Guard return, and save him. 
Offer not up yourself a Sacrifice,  
When there are so many, that gladly would  
Redeem you with their Lives. Let that thought  
Prevail with you, That you ought to Live for them,  
That so willingly would Die for you.  
You're the Prop of thousands, and if you sink,  
You pull a kingdom with you. Take your Sword  
By the Other End, and so holding it,  
Seek to appease this Royal Ghost. If you  
Cannot regain a Crown, yet win a memory  
By the loss of it: This Object makes your Grief  
A burden to your Honour. Lean on us,  
My Lord, and we'll conduct you to the Camp.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Polyander, Comastes, Menetius, and a Captain, at their entrance a Shout is heard. Poly. 
What Shout is this among the Enemies?  Cap. 
'Tis their Acclamations still for the arrival  
Of their fellows, with whom they have now joined  
Camps.  Poly. 
I am glad of't.  
I hope we shall have Command, to try the Fortune  
Of the Field to morrow. Would the Whole Knot  
Of them were there, that we might make quick Work,  
And like Alexander, untie it with a Blow.  Com. 
I and a Wall round about 'em to keep  
Them to the Slaughter; that we may not be  
Troubled to kill a Thousand in a Thousand  
Places. I like not this pursuing, 'tis  
The greatest evil, next to the being  
Pursued; the Wine ne'er tastes well when 'tis so  
Jumbled. Give me a Standing-Camp, that  
Flourishes like a peaceful City, and wants  
No Necessaries. Here stand your engines,  
There victual: on this hand a Palesado  
Defends you, on the other a Barecado  
Of Pork-tubs as impregnable: before  
A foes' is cut of some two hundred paces,  
And the soldier's tippling in't, behind a Coop  
Runs out of the same length, and the poultry  
Tippling in their Trenches; whose bodies are  
Too delicate and tender to bear travel.  
Here a Man may, even among the Tents, forget  
To be a soldier.  Poly. 
Ha, ha, ha, On my  
Conscience Comastes, thou art weary  
Of the Camp already.  Com. 
Yes faith,  
As yourselves are, if you'd confess the truth.  Poly. 
Why, methinks there's no Pleasure like the soldiers,  
Who takes his Swing in all Delights, and sates  
Himself with 'em, as if he were near to  
Taste 'em more; and if Fortune be so kind  
To grant him a second and a third Fruition,  
Like Friends, which parted in the Morn two Dangerous  
And Hopeless ways of ever seeing, they Meet  
With a multiplied, and Unexpected Joy.  
His very Wounds, are Pleasures, and Elysium  
Comesfaster on him, than his Death.—  Com. 
When Honour is the Prize, and wronged Justice  
The Cause that thrust him on, he throws off One,  
That he may gain a Better Life, a Life  
Of Fame, which is Eternal even in Death.  
That he enjoyed before was Fading,  
Sustained only by the infirmity  
Of One Weak Body, now 'tis supported  
By the Memories of All, the Charge of it  
Is committed unto a World of Men,  
Nor is't extinguished before the Frame o'th'  
Whole Universe. None are so surviving  
As the Sons of Glorious War. Jove gave  
Life to Hercules and Theseus, but Mars  
Eternity; they breathed from one, but gained  
Heaven by the other. These were the great Thoughts,  
Which when I was yet Young, and not able  
To effect 'em, did dwell in me; they did  
Suggest unto my soul, that I ought to raise my hand  
Against the Gods, if they slept at Perjury,  
And favoured Injustice.  Poly. 
Holloe Comastes!  
What Rapture's this?  Com. 
To show you how easy  
A thing it is, to talk like a soldier,  
And be as brave a fellow as either of you.  Omnes. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Mene. 
Thou wouldst make an excellent  
Run-away-Souldier. Such a speech on the highway,  
Were greater Violence, than Bidding-stand,  
A long staff would not get an alms so soon.  Poly. 
What sayst thou now Comastes, to a jovial Round  
Or two, beyond the Court-Healths? Those at the Kings  
Own Table?  Com. 
I believe I shall say more  
Than you at this, as well as at the Other.  Poly. 
Captain, command 'em to bring some wine in.  Exit Captain. 
Come, in the mean time let's sit.  Enter to 'em one of the Guard that was present at the King's Death. Guard. 
My Lords, stand upon your Guard. The King's slain!  Omnes. 
The King!  They all start up upon the news, and draw their Swords. Poly. 
Thou look'st distractedly, speak it again!  Guard. 
He's slain! Myself was present at his Death.  Poly. 
By what accursed Hand?  Guard. 
That Devil, that  
Awhile since wounded the Prince, has murdered him.  
But my Lords, I lose the time, and Betray you  
In it. The Prince is come into the Camp,  
And commands you straight to repair to him.  
He finds the Army wavering in their Faith,  
The City Bands are already Revolted,  
And others begin to draw off. The King's death,  
And a Declaration from the Enemy,  
Pretending that a Son of the former King's  
Preserved by Aratus, heads their Forces;  
Has almost gained them a Victory. without  
A drop of blood.  Poly. 
Away, we stay too long,  
Lead us where you left the Prince.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Aratus. 
Never did Justice show herself so Eminent:  
This was a Deed, as if her own Hand  
Had wrought it! Who can complain the want of  
Providence? Or say, the guilty and the  
Innocent make one Heap in Judgement, when  
This is told? A Tyrant in the midst of  
All his Strengths, guarded with Friends and arms,  
What ever Power or policy could make him  
Safe with, by a Single Hand strengthened with  
Justice, was snatched from the midst of all!  
The Ligt'ning melts not the enclosed Gold  
With half that wonder, leaving that contains it!  
Nor doth the Plague, in a Multitude of Men,  
Make a Choice so Curious.  Enter to him Cleander and Clearchus. Clean. 
My Lord, we may Sheath our Swords.  
This Gallant Act of the heroic and  
The brave Pallantus, has not only  
Removed a Tyrant, but, I may say,  
Dissolved an army, and reduced a kingdom.  
The praetor, in the city's Name, offers  
Allegiance. And divers Bodies, both of Horse  
And Foot, have left th' enemy's Camp, and are  
Come over to us. What can we attribute  
To this Noble Deed, that in any measure  
May reach the greatness of it? We ought to  
Acknowledge it the Compendium of all  
Our Future Fortunes; and what over High  
And Happy shall succeed to us, to be  
The Consequents alone of this. A Benesit  
Of that universal Nature, that like  
The sun's Influence, our Enemies feel  
The Good of it as well as we.  Ara. 
Sir, you weigh  
This Action as you ought. And while you can look  
Thus Nobly on the Services are done you,  
You'll make this Isle a Land of Heroes,  
The Prince's Eyes breed virtues when they shine  
Upon 'em; and what ever has been found  
To be his Temper, quickly grows to be  
The genius of the People.  Clear. 
What thinks your Lordship,  
If we drew out, and faced the Body of  
The Enemy, that yet holds together?  
And with Fear, or Forces, sought to dissolv'em?  Ara. 
My Lord, what can we return you for this  
Gallant forwardness? But the Force that now  
Stands against us, will not be worth your highness'  
Hazard, nor yet pains to face' eur. A little  
Shame, and Obligation to their Late Master,  
Is all the Bond that holds 'em. And a few  
Days, if not hours, will scatter 'em, without  
Our Swords. But this Message from the City,  
Will require your majesty's attendance  
To it. Please you to hear what their Demands  
Are to you.  Exeunt Omnes. Drums, and other noises of an Assault. Pall. Within. 
Spare no Opposition.  
Bréak the Gates, add fire unto your Force.  Enter Rodia, and another Lady frighted in, Endora after them. Rodia. 
O Madam, they break in upon us!  Eud. 
O my Father, when thou art slain I cannot  
Fear what after does befall me! The same  
That was their cruelty to Thee, will to Me  
be pity.  A noise as if the doors were forced, Pallantus and other soldiers break in. Pall. 
Stand. No man advance to touch a Life,  
Or do a further Violence. My Rage  
Has blindly lead me on to Violate  
A place no less Sacred than the Temples,  
And rudely ere I looked about, hath thrust me  
On the deity! So those that are led  
To see some Glorious Sight, eager and longing,  
Ask still as they pass, which is the way? and  
How near? till they are engaged within its  
Splendour, which opening suddenly upon them,  
Makes 'em retire as fast again with Reverence!  Eud. 
What stays thee Monster? And makes thee pant thus  
O'er the Prey? Here I stand ready, and do  
Invite thy fury; Come, and save my hand  
A labour: if thou art Surfeited, I'll  
Whet thy Appetite. Th' art a Murderer,  
A Villain; these Name thee not; They are but  
Diseases of the State, Thou the Death. The Law  
Comprehends them within her Verge, thy Giant  
Faults do so much o'ertop Her, that Justice  
Cannot reach thee, and if there were no Gods.  
Thou than wert Innocent, and wouldst stand Safe,  
Because thou art so Wicked. Thou hast killed  
Thy King. O no, thou hadst no share in him!  
He was a King of Men, thou a Beast, the  
Foulest, and the bloodiest that ever prayed  
On Innocence.  Pall. 
My Revenge, how false  
Thy beauty was.  Eud. 
How Monstrous thou appearest!  
Thou represents unto me all Ill,  
I ever heard of!  Pall. 
And thou all that  
I ever heard of Good!  Eud. 
Thou mov'st like so many  
Living-Mischiefes! had the Priests beheld thee,  
They might have divined, all these Future evils  
So exactly in thy Form, that what they told,  
Would rather have seemed a Story, than  
A prophecy, and have saved us from thee.  
Nature was never guilty of such a Work,  
Some Hellish-Power hath given thee Birth, and Spirit,  
And sent thee on the Earth to destroy all  
That's Fair and Holy.  Cap. 
Sir, raise your Spirits.  
Can you endure such words as these? Soldiers on,  
And make Her feel those Evils She hath uttered.  Pall. 
Hold, hold, Thou Worse than she hath Named! darest thou  
Command, or move to such a sacrilege?  
If thy sins were told thee from the Heavens,  
thou'dst blaspheme the Voice that spoke to thee  
Withdraw, thy Rage is too unhollowed for  
This Place. Provoke me not with another  
Offer. I shall not swallow your Bitterness,  
Though guilded in the Name of Friendship.  Exeunt Captain and soldiers. Eudo. 
What next intend'st thou? What masterpiece  
Of wickedness wilt thou glory in alone?  
Know, thou canst not Force me; here within thy  
Reach I am as safe, as if an Army,  
All resolute to death, divided us.  She shows a Dagger: 
This Hand, something weaker than a woman's,  
Can resist all thy strength, were it as great  
In Mischief, as in Will.  Pall. 
Though I seem all  
That you have Named, and Fouler yet, this is  
A sin I dare not do. O think me not  
Worse than you have said already, and then  
I may again wash off my Stains. The Beasts  
Are Noble, meek to Chastity, and humbly  
Lick the feet of Majesty. Judge me not  
By show, our Eyes deceive us, and as oft  
Persuade us to the Wrong, as do the blind-man's  
feet; falsely do prompt us, All that is  
White, is Innocent, and all that's Black, is  
Sinful without exception. Should those  
That look on you, be led so by the sense,  
They must kneel down before you, and adore you  
As some Deity, not being able  
To fancy so much God, as they do see  
In you! Such forms their Powers have given you,  
That you may become a Rival in their worships.  Eudo. 
Why talk'st thou thus? Thy Tongue hath no more power  
Than hath thy Hands.  Pall. 
Neither intend Violence  
Would you could entertain of me one thought  
Of Goodness, as hopeless as you think me,  
I'd undertake to make it good, and bettered  
Daily.  Eud. 
Why delayest thou? What wouldst thou have  Pall. 
Forgiveness, Love, I dare not say.  Eudo. 
Love!  
Thy Thoughts are more misshapen, than thyself.  
In thy very Hopes thou art Cruel. This Base  
Imagination hath wronged me more,  
Than all thy Actions: In those thou only  
Soughtest the ruin of Greatness, in this  
The ruin of my Name. A Rape were a Glory  
To thy Affection, and though it had Lost,  
It would have Got me Fame, the Honour of  
A ravished Virgin. Didst thou Woe me with the  
Highest Services, as thou com'st in my  
Father's Blood, I could Reward thee, but could  
Never yield thee Love. I was too long  
A Princess, and lost the name too Late,  
To entertain so low a thought.  Pall. 
The World  
Of Causes that part me, and happiness!  Eud. 
Love is soft, and full of courtesy,  
A greater Opposite to Lust, than Hate.  
The Flames thou feel'st, are more preposterous,  
Than those which burn the breasts of Satyrs, or  
Of Beasts; which kill the Young, and in that blood  
Enjoy the Dam. Think'st thou that any is  
So bold in Lust, to imbrance the Fears thy Love  
Brings with it?  Pall. 
My Youth, and comeliness how  
Are you obscured!  Eudo. 
My Miseries have put  
A new Nature in me, changed that Calmness  
I had wont enjoy, into the Looks, and  
Language of a Fury. How ill does Rage  
Become a virgin's breast? I will suppress it.  
And if it must break forth, dissolve it into  
Tears. An Age worn out in thought, cannot present  
One Comfort to me, I am so Wretched.  
Oh! My soul's more Earthy than my body,  
This War that is within me, I hope will  
Gain a Victory o'er my Life at last.  Pall. 
Accursed that I was to be the author  
Of so much misery. Is there no way to restore  
That Peace which you have lost? If there be any,  
Despair not of it, though it be held within  
The jaws of Death, I'll snatch it for you:  
Though it were lost in the Darkest Mass of things,  
My Love would distinguish't in a Chaos:  
If it have no Being, but what your Thought  
Gives Life to, I'll Wish it for you, so strong  
My fancy is to serve you Let it be  
Any thing to be done, I'll do it. Can I,  
The wretched Cause removed; bring ease unto  
You Sufferings? Here on my Knee I yield my Life,  
Unto your taking: or if you had rather,  
I'll offer't up myself.  Eudo. 
No, and yet  
There is a way, and thou mayst do it.  Pall. 
Is there a way? O my joys! The Gods are  
Merciful! Name it, name it to me.  Eudo. 
If thou wilt vow to do it presently.  Pall. 
Need I an Oath to confirm I would be  
Happy? 'Tis my own happiness, I thus  
Eagerly pursue in yours. Every sigh  
You give, doth make me breathless; and every  
Tear which you let fall, doth bow me nearer  
To the Earth, than all the years and Wounds that  
I have suffered. Yet I will swear, By all things  
Holy, all that I fear and reverence,  
To refuse no Labours, Death, to gain your Ease,  
And restore joy unto your Life again.  Eudo. 
Now thou canst not, thy last words have rendered  
Thee Unable. The Ease was Death, which yet  
I beg from thee.  Pall. 
From what a Heaven of happiness  
Am I fallen?  Eud. 
Assist me all my strength.  
Ye Gods this way ye have ordained I should  
Come to you: pardon that Fate then, which yourselves  
Did give me.  She makes an offer to stab herself. Rod. 
O my Lady!  Pall. 
Stay, O stay that hand!  
Let that Goodness in you, which would spare Things  
Fair and Holy, preserve the Fairest, and  
The Holiest! The angels would be proud to take  
Such Shape upon them when they Visit Earth,  
'Tis such as yourself ought to look with Reverence on.  Eudor. 
there's a Weapon hid within my Heart, which  
None can take away: it wounds deeply now.  
Death thou art a Lover, and dost Court me mildly.  
Lady's O my Lady: help, help. O my Lady!  She faints. Rod. 
Give her more air.  Pall. 
She's gone, my time's no longer.  
Our Lives were woven on the same Web, the  
Destinies condemn' me to see her Death,  
And then to follow.  He prepares to fall upon his Sword. Rod. 
She breathes, stand off.  Eud. 
My Brother, O my Father!  Rod. 
How do you Madam?  Eud. 
Too well, my strength returns to fast unto me.  Pall. 
Were my Soul fled, that voice would call it back  
Again, itself would return, and choose this  
Paradise on Earth. I'll not disturb her  
With my Longer stay. Fair One, if your Lady  
Shall need any thing, you may have it with  
A thought; No less respect shall wait on her,  
Than if her Father still ruled all. The Guard  
Shall be at your Command, and attend only  
For your Quiet, and your Safety.  Rod. 
Soldier  
thou'rt Noble. The Gods reward thy goodness.  Exit Pallantus at one door, and Eudora led off by the Ladies at the other. CHORUS. 
HE who Unjustly swayed the State,  
Lives nowhere now but in their Hate,  
There's Nothing left of him but Shame,  
Which both Preserves and Clouds his Name.  
When Civill-Beasts fall, let it be  
called Slaughter, and not Victory.  
When that He dies, that lived a Shade,  
His sleeps continued then, not Made.  
Arise thou star of Honour here,  
And in his Stead shine round our sphere.  
Grace thou the Throne, and let us see,  
Thy Father once more reign in thee.  
We'll now in nought but Love Conspire,  
And no breast burn but with True Fire.  
While that such manners rule the Throne,  
Live all by his, he by his Own.   

[ACTUS 5. SCENA 1.]  Enter Eudora and Rodia. Eud. 
THis Quiet we enjoy, does strike Amazement  
In me! Sure they have Slain the Body with  
The Head, which makes this general Calm.  Rod. 
Madam,  
'Tis much more Innocent. And though that part  
Of it we find, by particular Command  
Be ordered so; yet 'tis but an Image  
Of the universal Peace that Blesses  
All the Isle. No Noise of arms, Rapine of  
Soldiers, Tumults, Slaughters, are seen in any  
Place, but security and Joy do reign,  
As in a long and settled Peace. The Conspirators  
Having brought about their Great Design,  
Desire to have it seen to all the World.  
They Sought a Change, but not a Desolation.  Eud. 
Their Moderation is too Late; nor will  
It satisfy the Gods, when they have spilled  
So much blood, that they will Spill no more.  Rod. 
O Madam, how far you wander, and are lost  
In Error! and to all your other Miseries  
Is added this, your Mistaking of the Ground  
On which you Suffer: and whether with my Duty  
It will stand, to inform you of the Right,  
I know not: Yet while there is a charity  
In the rudeness, I shall be bold to tell you,  
This Last Alteration the State has suffered,  
This wresting of the sceptre from your Name,  
Together with your father's Life; has not  
Befallen through the Impious and black  
Contrivance of a few bloody and ambitious  
Lords, greedy to assume the royal ensigns  
To themselves: but in the Name of Justice,  
And the Owner, they have made this Seizure.  
And there stands up a King, to Countenance,  
And justify the Fact; a King not known  
Unto the Latter Age, a Son of Him  
From whom, with the like violence, but more  
Injustice (pardon what I say) your Father  
Formerly did tear the Diadem.  
O Madam! Your Innocence, or piety,  
Or both, though you stood for many years,  
So Great a Person in the State, Kept you  
From looking in this mystery. And if  
You doubt the truth of what I have said,  
Or can suspect your enemy's Cause is pleaded  
By me: ask of the most Zealous to your House  
And Name, and you will find, I have not only  
Declared a verity, but restrained by Manners  
And by Duty, concealed a story of the horridest  
Cruelty, that any Age or time can Parallel.  Eud. 
If this be true, our sins are mightier  
Than our sufferings; and had we a greater Debt  
Than Life, we ought to pay it. My Miseries  
Are due to me, I was a party, and  
Enjoyed my father's Violence and Treason.  Rod. 
You are as Innocent, as at that Time  
Your Age was; and only do offend, in these  
Your tears, and too much Sorrow, which on this  
Occasion showed excessively, is not  
To Grieve, but to Repine. The King was Old,  
And taking his Latest Leave, and 'tis hard  
To say, whether he were First oppressed with years,  
Or Vengeance. My Lord Time us, 'tis true,  
Was Young; but waging so seaslesse and perverse  
A war, 'gainst virtue, and 'gainst Justice,  
What wonder if at last he sunk in such  
A quarrel?  Eud. 
How ill these Words become thee  
To speak, and me to hear'em? Think'st thou, the Shame  
And Vices of our House, can bring a Comfort  
To me?  Rod. 
I think their Shame and Vices, Madam,  
Ought not to oppress your Innocence.  Eud. 
As the Glories, so the Dishonours of  
A family reflect upon the Rest  
Of Kin.  Rod. 
'Tis the Error of the Blind  
Mistaking World, that placeth either, where  
They are not deserved.  Eud. 
Can any shift off,  
With Honour, from themselves the Sad calamity  
That O're-whelmes their House?  Rod. 
If that calamity  
Be the punishment of Particular Crimes,  
To dote on the calamity is to Allow  
The Crimes.  Eud. 
None can be suspected to allow  
A Crime, that punish even their Innocence,  
For their Alliance to the vicious.  Rod, 
Nor none can be admired for Justice more;  
That punish Innocence on any Score.  Enter Lady to 'em. Lady. 
There's one of the Adverse party, that seems  
Of Note, desires admittance to your highness.  Eud. 
See Rodia who it is.  Rodia goes out as to see, and returns again. 
Who is it?  Rod. 
Madam, I Know not! nor did I e'er see  
Any like him! His Grace and form admit  
No parallel! He speaks like the soldier  
That first broke in upon us, but him  
It cannot be, He was the Terror, This the Delight,  
And Wonder of those that look upon him!  Eud. 
Whether will thy Unseemly Admiration  
Carry thee? In Men Beauty's the Least Part.  Rod. 
Madam, it appears so in him! Yet where  
Such Excellence of Form is seen, the Beauties  
Of the Mind are seldom Common. He craves  
Admittance to your highness, and will not  
Take it, before that it be granted.  Eud. 
Admit him. It will not become our State,  
To deny Commands, much less when they entreat.  Rodia goes out, and returns again with Pallantus richly habited. Pal. 
The kingdom owes a Sacrifice for your Life;  
All will joy to hear of it: which had it falid,  
Would have pulled more Guilt upon us, than the sins  
Of a whole Age.  Eud. 
It is my shame you tell me of,  
And a great Share of my Grief that thus I stay  
To Grieve.  Pal. 
My Offensive Tongue can utter  
Nothing pleasing to you; so great are your  
Misfortwes, and your Honour so tender  
To you: Yet if my blood could Cure the Wounds  
I have given you, I would not stick to make  
A balsam with it.  Eud. 
Thou art not He  
Which gave'em me.  Pal. 
If my Repentance can make  
Me Clear, I am not. Otherwise 'twas I  
Who blinded with the beauty of a Rash  
Revenge, tore from you all your joys, and with it,  
Lost my own.  Eud. 
thou'rt strangely altered  
If thou be'st he!  Pal. 
Nothing so strangely  
As my Hopes are. Which first appeared to me  
In a shape most Heavenly, and told me  
All should be as Blessed as their Form!  
That if I would strike one Noble Blow,  
I should remove the Numerous Wrongs and Evils  
Of a Nation. But treacherously hid it  
From my sight, that with the same stroke, I should  
Produce One evil, outweighing all the rest  
That I had Remedied.  Eud. 
Why dost thou Colour thus  
Thy Cruelty with Outward show of Justice  
And Compassion? Thou hadst no Cause for that  
Which thou hast done, The Wrongs were General  
Thou Urgest so; and of a public Nature,  
And came not in the compass of thy Private  
Vengeance; but that thou hadst a Hand was ever pressed  
And ready to act a Cruelty.  Pal. 
Yet I had  
A Cause, pardon me that I say so, and being  
That I saw not You before I did it,  
A Just One. I lost a sovereign, as near  
To me in blood, as Love. And if this Cause  
Seem Remote, I had a Father Murdered,  
Whose Death it became me to Right with Vengeance,  
As it becomes you to mourn o'er yours with tears.  
Myself the First Prince of all this Isle,  
Was drove a Fugitive to other countries,  
My Wrongs and Innocence were my only Guilt.  
Nor did my Persecutors here give o'er,  
They thought too Much was Left me in my Life;  
So poor at that time, so o'erwhelmed with Miseries,  
'twas hardly from a Death to be distinguished.  
Their Injuries put a New One in me,  
And blew the spark unto a Flame, Consumd'em.  
Look on this— It may bring you Comfort,  He gives her the Letter he found at the beginning in the villain's pocket that should have killed him. 
With making you Out-of-love with the Subject  
Of your Grief.  Eud. 
Pallantus! are you Pallantus.  Pal. 
This is the first Day, I have dared to be so  Eud. 
And to all the Treason and Injustice named,  
Here's signed, Timeus! Couldst thou be so cruel,  
So foully Impious? Degenerate Brother!  
This hath made a Mercy of all that hath  
Befallen thee: Nay thou dost deserve  
To have thy Punishments outlive thee;  
To have this Blasting Character engraved upon  
Thy tomb to all Posterity. Here lies  
The bloody, Treacherous, and (to make thee  
Monstrous, to have thy Age joined to it)  
The Young Timeus; that was subtle in  
His Youth. What remains for me? That happiness  
The most Wretched do enjoy, is taken  
From me, A Worthy Cause of Sorrow. Now  
I can neither Live or die without a stain.  Pal. 
Can you find yet a Resemblance but of Justice  
Inmy Actions?  Eud. 
I Know not how to Answer you.  
The Tongue that can defend such Impious Deeds,  
Must be as Wicked as the Will that did  
Commit'em. Had Equity pointed all  
Your Actions out, given you Rules to work by,  
Told you how much, how far you must have gone,  
You could not have done more Justly. There wants  
Not any thing to Crown your judgement, but  
My Death, the only Surviving Issue  
Of that Sinful Race: I have a long time  
Loathed my Life, and now I loathe myself too,  
I find, I know not how, a guiltiness  
Possess me; my father's Crimes, flow like his blood  
Within me.  Pal. 
O say not so! Forbear at length  
To profane the Divine goodness that dwells  
In you! It is a Sin, though You yourself  
Commit it. Shall Self-Slaughter be held a Sin,  
A Self-Slander not be Noted as a  
Greater Crime? If the first be Murder,  
So much the Soul's more Excellent than the Body,  
That the Last must be held a sacrilege; a kind of  
Blaspheming of the Deity dwells in us.  
Take heed, while you would rather die, than bear  
A stain, you pull not the Greatest on you  
By avoiding it.  Eud. 
They that will preserve  
A pure and spotless Soul; must punish even  
The least Affinity in themselves to Sin.  Pal. 
Be yet advised. They that too Nicely Create  
Sin where 'tis not, Condemn their Innocence  
When their judgement's Faulty.  Eud. 
Why do you thus  
Reward me Good for evil? Why would you  
Withhold me from Perishing Justly,  
That sought to sink you in all your Innocence?  
Could my Imprecations have drove you  
To Destruction, I had had but the End  
I aimed at.  Pal. 
You're still a Judge too cruel  
To yourself. All those Imprecations  
I deserved, as I then showed to you.  
But do you Ask, Why I would save you from  
Destruction? O you have set too High a Prize  
Happiness in That your Question, unless  
Your bounty too would show the Way, that we  
Might Hope to Effect it! How should I despise  
The proudest Honours that attend the Sword,  
In which Robbers and Ruffians may be Sharers  
With me, to win a Glory so perfectly  
Illustrious? And could I bestow  
So matchless and Divine a Benefit,  
As Your Preservation, on the World,  
People would style me God And though from the Earth  
I took my Being, with the Noblest of  
The Ancient Heroes they'd fix my Name in Heaven,  
Invest me with Diadem of stars,  
And Robe of immortality! And what is it,  
That Obstructs this Blessing to the World and Me?  
If I look upon your Innocence,  
I read a Book, in which, not only a Few  
Finite years are writ, but see an Age  
Drawn out to all eternity. If on your  
Loss of State; no injury of the World,  
No Shock of Fortune can diminish  
A True greatness, That which was your Own,  
Is still On you; and sets you forth th' Example  
And Adoration, both of the Present  
And the Future World. Is it then last,  
Your loss of Friends, or all these joined together,  
That withholds this Blessing we would so Dearly  
Purchase? What is there in your Condition,  
That is not to be paralleled in Others?  
Look upon my Misfortunes, and you shall find  
A perfect Sceme of all your Saddest Evils.  
I lost, as you have done, a Father, a King,  
The Second Hopes unto a Crown, the joys  
And Glory which do wait on these: Nay more,  
By you I lost them. Remember what your  
Right Hand, your Father, and your Brother, did  
Take from me, what your Left, their Ministers,  
And Servants. Learn then a Strength of me (that  
Is the Worst Name for it) to bear a Change  
Of Fortune: And pardon a father's Death;  
Let the Innocence of Mine excuse my  
Violence to yours. We are the wretchedest Two  
Alive, made so by ourselves, and can be  
Only Happy in ourselves— No Beam of Joy yet?  
No breaking of a ray of Comfort,  
From these Clouds of sadness? No Dancing  
After this Long Night of Sorrow? Madam,  
Yet look up! Though hitherto my Comforts  
Have been Air, and unable to remove  
The weight of Grief oppresses you, yet here's  
One remaining, I dare pronounce, will prove successful.  
Vouchsafe to cast an Eye upon this Paper,  
That bears the Characters of your Living  
Brother, and other Friends.  He gives Her a Paper. Eud. 
It is not so!  
It cannot, it must not be! Your Safeties  
Will not Suffer this; if the Sword of war  
Have spared him, That of policy hath Cut him off.  
Forbear to Mock me thus, such Delusions  
Drive my sorrows to Distraction.  Pall. 
Madam,  
He lives, and with him all the Rest, whose Names  
Are there subscribed; nor is there more than One  
(Could you but pardon that) of any Note  
Has lost a Life by these Late Troubles. Think not  
I have mocked you with a deceitful show.  
I know, to have given you happiness,  
As you imagine, had been Twice only  
To have snatched it from you. I shall say no more  
To you, But Live as you find the Hopes true  
I have promised you. And believe when I  
Spoken this: my Life, my Honour, all that  
I possess, and all that can be added  
To me, are a Gage Short to that I have given you.  
And till I present your Brother in safety  
To you, I'll never press to enjoy again  
The Heaven of Looking on you.  Rod. 
Madam, clear  Exit Pallantus. 
Your Spirits yet at last from these Clouds  
Of Discontent. Many Noble Comforts  
Court you on every Side; make a Truce  
With Your sorrows, but till you see the Issue  
Of'em.  Eud. 
I shall at least so far, as till  
I have proved this One that's promised me.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Cleander, Hianthe, Clearchus, Aratus, Haimantus, Phronimus, and Eurylochus; Shouts of the People as they Enter. People. 
Jove, Neptune, Apollo, all the Powers  
That favour Crete, preserve and bless the King.  Clean. 
Through the happiness of my People. May  
I know no other Joy or bliss, but what  
First passes you, the Middle-Way of Blessings  
Between the Gods and Me.  People. 
The Gods preserve  
Your majesty.  Enter Pallantus, and kneels and kisses the King's Hand, Pall. 
Sir, I humbly crave your Pardon,  
That thus tardily, after the People,  
And your Enemies, I present my duty  
To you, and wish you happiness.  King. 
I cannot  
Be deceived, thou must be, th'Inimitable,  
Matchless, not to be Counterfeited, or  
Resembled, Great Pallantus! Whom as none;  
Can Reach to in a Noble Action, so none  
Can equal in a Gallant Presence! Nor  
Do I wonder to see the Change wrought in thee,  
Thy Deed hath thus transformed thee, It sits upon  
Thy Brow, and casts a glory round about  
Thy Face!  Ara. 
Me thinks till this Day, the Times had  
Likewise a Vizor on, a looked not with  
A True Face before. Sir, you shall hourly see  
New Graces, and New Glories break forth from him!  Pall. 
My Lord, you promise too highly for me.  Ara. 
Thou look'st sadly after all thy Honours.  King. 
So my-thoughts! What can be the Cause? Can He  
That has given a Nation happiness, want it  
Himself? Speak thy Discontent. If it lie not  
In my own Power to remedy, I'll Sacrifice  
In thy behalf.  Pall. 
Sir, low as the Earth I bow  
To you. But that which is my Grief, will be  
No longer mine alone, than while I do  
Conceal it; 'tis a Disease, that all Good Men  
Will catch with the first fancy, and Conceit.  
Justice could never yet, with all her Care,  
So carve out her Punishment, but that the Innocent  
Were Wounded with the Stroke, and felt the Judgement  
Of another's Sin. While with her Sword,  
She Cuts off the Offending Parent, the Child  
Is made an Orphan in the Cradle, and mourns  
In after days, the Crime he ne'er Committed.  Clean. 
Whither does this Sad beginning tend?  Pal. 
To this Sir. As we have slain (with all Religion)  
A bloody Tyrant and Usurper; one  
That was Greater in his Sins, than in the  
Kingdom he purchased by them: So too we have  
Unjustly slain the Father of a Lady,  
That knew not so much Guilt, as to satisfy her,  
Why she lost him. And for want of his Life,  
She now Contemns her Own, a jewel  
Of Jnestimable value to all the World,  
But to herself. Sir you cannot call Her  
An Enemy, though her goodness stood against You  
So Many Years, and preserved her Father,  
In despite of all his sins. It became her  
To withstand the greatest Piety what e'er,  
If it were an Enemy to her own.  Hian. 
Her Cause of Grief is Mighty, and if Care  
Be not taken, as their Faults have done the Rest,  
Her goodness will destroy her. We that beheld  
The past Deformities, can bear witness  
Of her virtues. She was the only Mine  
Of Honour, and when we had been wearied  
In seeking one Grain else where, in Her  
We could find a Treasure. Nor was this a Beauty  
In her, set off only with the Blemishes  
Of Others, And foiled by general Vices;  
But 'twas a real, and a Native Excellence,  
Which as it could not be obscured by Thickest  
Darkness, so neither could it be out-shined  
By the most Radiant brightness.  King. 
Her Grief  
Concerns us all, and aught to be provided for  
Before our Feasts and Triumphs. Return.  
In our Name to Her, and tell Her, be the Advantages  
Ne'er so Eminent we have received by 'em,  
We truly Mourn, for whatever Losses, may be Called Hers,  
Say too, in Person we had come to Comfort her,  
But that we thought a Visit, in the freshness  
Of her Sufferings, too much Violence.  
What ever there remains, that can bring a Joy  
To Her, shall carefully be sought out,  
And offered to her. Her Brother with many  
Of her Friends are fled into the Fort,  
And are there shut up— would I could give'em Life—  
What say you my Lord? May I do this?  
Will not Mercy in this place, be madness?  Ara. 
Sir 'twill be so in no place. You may do this,  
Or any thing you have a mind too.  
Even in your suddainest, Uncousidered Thoughts,  
There is a Secret counsel, and Depth of wisdom;  
And seeing all your Actions, Nay, all your Pleasures  
Are in some Exercise of virtue; we  
Will not cross you in'em, but make't  
Our greater Care, to see you no time Suffer  
By your goodness, or that your Mercy prove  
A Cruelty to yourself.  Clean. 
You have given me  
Resolution. Haste then in the first place  
Unto the Fort ('Twas their desire this Morning,  
To have Conference with one of Note)  
And if you find'em fit for Mercy,  
Or to be made fit, offer't to'em  Exeunt Omnes. Enter at one door Polyander, Menetius, Comastes, and the Captain of the Guard; Timeus to them at the other. Time. 
No Answer yet returned?  Poly. 
Not yet Sir.  Time. 
One look out again.  Polyander, 
I remember,  Exit Captain. 
I heard thee once say, when I condemned thee  
For thy smiles, That if there were a Cause, thou  
Couldst Frown, why look'st thou Sadly at this Time then?  
Our Fortunes ought rather to stir our Indignation  
Than our Grief.  Poly. 
Sir were they my Own Misfortunes  
I were under, and not yours, the Heaviest  
Pressures should not move a Passion in me,  
Unless it were some Glory, but when I look  
On you a Fellow-Sufferer with me,  
Remember the State from which you're fallen,  
Though in my Own Miseries I had a Heart  
Of Flint and Rock, In yours I could desolued  
Into a Stream of tears.  Cap. 
Sir there's now one arrived.  Enter Captain. 
Has certainly brought an Answer.  Time. 
Letus  
Seat ourselves before he Enters, that he  They all sit down about a Table that has a Cup of poison on it. 
May see on what strength our Demands are made.  
Every Man put on a Face of Mirth and  
Resolution; and fancy to himself  
He's at a Banquet, that will refresh him,  
After all his toil— who's this? Do any  Enter Paliantus 
Of you Know him?  Poly. 
Not I my Lord!  Men. 
Nor I!  Time. 
Sir, You're welcome But we Invite you only  
To look on. The liquour this Goblet holds,  
Though it be Brisk, and of a Lusty Operation,  
We cannot Commend so much for Purity,  
Or help to Good Digestion. The Gods  
Give not Life more Certain, than this gives Death,  
Do you think you can behold the Drinking  
Of it? Would Aratus himself were here,  
That once he might be Glutted with  
A Spectacle of Death! You look Pale on 'tis  
Already. Fly Sir, while you may; for certainly  
Your enemy's have a Plot upon you,  
And sent you hither to take your Death in  
By your Eyes. Had they none to send us,  
To behold our Resolutions, but such a Trifle?  Pal. 
What Shape can I put on, and thou not Injure  
Me in't? I never yet appeared to thee  
In any Form, but Either I found thy Scorn  
Or Hatred in it! At first I was thy Fear,  
As all that were Innocent did Fright thee.  
And because Thou wert Guilty, I was banished.  
Not to remove me neither, but my Death.  
Which standing firm 'gainst any Stroke of Law,  
By Treachery thou wouldst have reached it.  
Am when by Miracle I scaped thy Plotted  
Mischiefs, by Chance thou wouldst have slain me  
A Stranger, and Unknown to thee: My Disguise  
Wronged thee not, nor couldst thou pretend a Quarrel  
To it, more than to him that in the remotest  
India draws his breath—  Timeus starts from the Table, and draws his Sword, the rest do the like. Time. 
I know thee now!  
Thou needest not further declare thyself!  
And thou art Come past all my Wishes  
To satisfy my Regenge.  Pallantus Knocks, and a Guard rushes in. Pall. 
Hold, I came  
To bring Peace, and not Destruction. Do you  
Perceive yet how vain is all your Malice?  Time. 
If thou art that man thou wouldst seem to be,  
And equally with Me dost honour a Dead  
Father; yet setting by these Seconds,  
Let us singly try our Hatred. The Grant  
Of This will please me more, than a confession  
Of all the Articles proposed by me.  
I had rather see thee Dead, or by this means,  
Not see thee Live, than again be Master  
Of the Fortunes I have Lost. I am unfit  
For Life, And shall but curse the Givers of it.  Pall. 
If I thought so, I'd grant to your Request,  
And Kill you; I could do it, I have Strength  
And Justice enough to make me Able.  
But you are not so Bad as you suppose.  
These are Despairing, not malicious Thoughts.  
Yet ere I go (rest assured) one way or other  
I'll give you Satisfaction, I came  
For that Intent. Show me your Articles—  Here one gives him the Articles, which he seems to run over with his Eye, and reads the last aloud. 
And last, That thus attended we may depart  
The Isle, How poor are these Conditions!  
Without more Commission I dare grant you  
Better. Why these are demands within the compass  
Of a Subjects Asking. Be not deceived,  
You were not so Safe in your Own reign,  
As in your Enemies. The State is not  
Translated from one tyranny to another;  
But a Prince governs now, which is a Name  
Of Mercy as well as Power; which He truly knows,  
And in his first Deeds desires to show on you.  
He does not think he's then like Jove, when he can  
Thunder, but when he can shower down Blessings  
On a Nation: Not when he is the voice  
Of Death, but when he sits harmless with the Power  
Of Death about him. Revenge, Torments,  
Executions, are not the Attributes  
Of a King, but a Destruction. He Rivals not  
The immortal Powers in Temples, Statues,  
Adoration; but in Transcendent virtues,  
Divine Performances; the Saving, Helping  
Qualities, not the Stern, and awful,  
Are the Steps, by which he climbs above the Heads  
O'th' people, and appears a God on Earth.  Time. 
Why should I be a Stranger to these virtues  
More than this man? I was not born for less Things  
Than He! Certainly, when Nature made this Frame  
She intended it for the Noblest purposes!  Pall. 
What do you yet Resolve, or Demand further?  He minds not what Pallantus says, but continues his meditation. Time. 
How my Soul's Acquainted with these Excellent  
Precepts, though it have been ever Kept  
A Stranger to 'em! how it approves, consents,  
Takes part with 'em at first hearing; even winding  
And twisting with 'em, as if its Highest Good  
Were in their Fellowship!  Pall. 
If you have no more  
To Ask, or Hope for, hear what is Freely  
Offered to you. Your Lives in the first place  
Are granted you; In the next your Fortunes,  
Honours (in a word) whatever with Justice  
You can call yours. Why look you wildly at this Gift  
Of Grace? It is no Wonder to the Giver  
Of it, nor them which live about him, though  
The Consequence may seem Dangerous.  
‛ I were not worthy the High Name of his virtue,  
If either the peril or Offence were less.  
And 'tis but a Mean Expression of his  
Goodness, to say, His Enemies were Courted  
To Live by him. But presently you'll think,  
This offered mercy is not to Save you,  
But to defer your Death. A Vain Thought.  
When can it be done more justly? Or more  
Safely? You're as far from those to pity you,  
As to Help you: None but Himself has any Care  
Of you. 'Tis true, there is a Lady that had  
A share in you, but Injuriously  
You threw her off; nor can you claim an Interest,  
When you have Neglected Her in all her Miseries:  
Not in your Flight, your Articles, no not  
In your Thoughts provided for Her. And had  
She not fallen into the Hands of Enemies,  
That were Servants too to Honour, You had  
Thrown away a Jewel that had a First Esteem  
Even among the Gods.  Time. 
O Sir, you have undermined  
My pride, and removed me from that Advantage-Ground  
I stood on, to my Own Low Pitch. These your  
Last Words come Near unto me, and make me,  
With Reverence, believe all that you have spoken.  
Your virtues before did only stir my Hate  
And envy; but this Deed has taught me Admire you.  
Nor can I doubt, there is a want of any Honour,  
When you have shown such Noble Care, in preserving  
A Distressed Virgin, whom I durst not think of,  
lest I should think too of Dishonour.  Pall. 
Sir, keep your Transportation to yourself.  
We do not think ourselves such High Deservers,  
In doing that which Barbarous People  
Would have done. They which would have burnt the Temples,  
Would have Knelt to Her; and what Duties their  
Want of Faith denied unto the Altars,  
So Visible an Image of the deity  
Would have called from 'em! Think you, we could desire  
To save such Enemies as you, and not  
Adore an enemy of Her virtues?  Time. 
Give me not Scorn, and Honour in the same breath.  
You cannot so nice, so abstractedly,  
Confer a Benefit on the Unfortunate  
Eudora, but it will Reflect on me.  
Your Words besides, with a kind of godlike  
Power, have removed, not only my despairs  
And troubles; but like heaven's Lightning, shot into  
My Soul, has torn me from myself; burnt and  
Consumed all that was vicious and Corrupt  
Within me. Be not then Unlike the Powers  
You have yet resembled, to scorn the Person  
That your Grace Converted.  Pall. 
All virtues, crowned  
With happiness, flourish in Timeus.  
I meet you to the fullest of your Wishes.  
And believe, as my body is now One  They embrace. 
With yours, my Soul is no less joined.  
I perfectly Forgive, whatever you  
Have done to me: Forget, what I have done  
To You. Next, believe with This, I throw away  
All Danger that does threaten you. In the last place,  He casts away the poison. Exeunt all but Comastes. 
Follow me whether I shall Lead you.  Com. 
I breath, am warm, alive all over; feel, smell, hear (but when I look on 
* He points to the Cup that had the poison.  Thee, I thank God) I taste not. I see too, and more particularly, that 'tis not Death, but a Dream of Death only that hangs on me; Some ill Vapours of the Spleen, bred from Noise of war, hearing of Murders, variety of Danger, and no Feasting. The King, my bountiful and loving Master, was killed suddenly; his Son deserted by the army and the whole kingdom, on the news, 'scaped hardiie with his Life, a few friends and followers to this Fort: where, with as much ado, we shut ourselves in, and our Enemies out; But Honour, a subtler and more pernicious adversary than all the rest, shuffled itself into the Hold with us, and has never ceased one minute since, in its Own Name, and the Name of honesty, of the Condition we have Lost, and the Disgraces we were to expect, to present us with Halters, Daggers, poison, any thing that might give us (as she termed it) a Noble End. I must confess, I am not for these melancholy Things, my Ends have still lain otherwise. 'Tis true, I bear on me the dignity of a Lord. But how? As a pedlar does his pack, upon my Shoulders, not in my Heart. And what is Honour at the best? But a bare Name only; and not always so much to me: the Title was never given me seriously, but by Rascals; with my Fellow peers (if I pleased 'em in the Feast) I was my Lord Comastes, If not, Comastes-with-my-face-full-of-Sauce, and my Locks of liquor, my hair and beard dropping like a winepress, as if my being there were not to Drink the Wine, but Make it. But again, I have a Lordship in Land to lose, as well as Title. What then? shall I sell my Life for Dirt? My Soul for a few Acres? I'll batter the World too for a Grave, and maintain't I make as Wise a Bargain. But say this Land be taken from me, pray how came I by it? Was it the Inheritance of my Noble Father, or the Purchase of my own Wit? Good yeomen-of-the-bottle Sleep in peace; your sons Being was from you, but his Well-Being, and his Dignities, from his proper virtues. Which as the Philosopher wisely observes, in no fortune leave the Owner. And while the Sciences of Eating, Drinking, Fooling, and the like, are held in Estimation, I cannot want a Lordship. Farewell therefore all dreams and Meditations of the Other World, my Making was for this; your Elysium with Sweet Shades, and purling streams, does not one whit entice me, for when they have said all they can, 'tis still to be Dead, to be there. And having happily broken from the company of my Noble Associates, I'll yoke no more with 'em, till I see what becomes of their Magnanimities: but thus as I am, alone, with wary steps I'll march unto the New Court; and do not Despair, though the King and State be changed, to continue still the same Man.  Exit Comastes. Enter Pallantus, Timeus, Polyander, and Menetius. Pall. 
My Lord, I beseech you attend here  
Till I give notice of your Coming.  Pallantus goes out, and returns presently again, and holds up the Hanging for Eudora, who with transportation meets her Brother, after whose first Encounter Pallantus withdraws. Eud. 
Oh! Is it real, that my arms embrace?  
Or do they idly thus enfold a shadow?  
Liv'st thou Timeus? Or are we Dead together?  
And on the Elysium Banks enjoy this  
Meeting. Say, and confirm me. For so lost  
In misery, so weakened and perturbed  
With Grief are my best Faculties, that what  
I do, and what I see, I Know not.  Time. 
Dearest Eudora, I excuse thy weakness;  
Nor is't a Wonder, if thy Softer Nature  
Feel these Impressions of a Potent Sorrow;  
When the like Passion disorders even  
The Strongest of my Powers, and leaves me broken  
With as great Distemper. O my Eudora,  
Well may we rave of Shades below, and  
An Hereafter-Being, when we have lately  
Suffered such a Change, as to a Death  
May well be equalled. Turn, and cast thy Eye  
Upon these Miserable relics of our  
Former Fortunes.  Eud. 
Yet we do Live, my Lords,  She turns to these that came with Timeus. 
If they do Live, that have a doubtful Death  
Still hanging o'er 'em. But my Timeus,  
I am overwhelmed with griefs, theyare parted to me  
By an unequal Hand: my Share of Common Losses  
Is the same with Yours; and than my Private Troubles  
Are no less than they. No sooner were the  
Transports o'er I owed your safety, but Like  
The Pangs of Death these seized on my Soul.  Time. 
What can thy goodness suffer, that's set beyond  
The reach of all I can Imagine?  End. 
Which way shall I begin? I dare not speak  
My Troubles; the beholding of thy present Evils,  
Forbids the Office of my Tongue. O my  
Timeus, thy Misfortunes are so great,  
That they render thee something Sacred  
To my Thoughts. And as with Religion  
We Impale that Oak, which by Jove's Thunder  
Has been struck, to keep't hereafter from a  
Profaner Wrong: So Thou, by thy Misfortunes  
Struck from Heaven, seem'st Consecrated and Exempted  
From all Violation of a mortal Tongue.  
Yet look on This, and read thyself, those Thoughts  
I dare not utter. And though it show but One  
Small Line of that Vast Sceme of cruelty,  
Designed or Acted by thee, it may serve  
To bring the Rest into thy Mind. This Paper  
Was found in the villain's bosom, that should  
Have done the horrid Act, by Him that should  
Have suffered it.  Time. 
Eudora, though on a  
Mind of blood and Guilt, this Paper, and thy Words  
Attending it, might rush with no less Horror,  
Than that Thunder thou now spokest of: Yet on me,  
These Bolts and Flashes are like those Brute  
And Idle Ones, which dash 'gainst Rocks and Mountains  
Without harm. Know, that before these Wakenings  
Came from Thee, all heaven's artillery has been  
Emptied on my Soul; and those celestial Fires  
Have wholly purged, nay calcined, and burnt up  
The Old Timeus. And what is seen remaining  
Of his Substance, is of a Holier  
And Diviner Nature; such as admits  
No Commerce with a Sin, unless it be,  
Like the Religious Magistrate, to Hate,  
And Punish it. Such as dares look on all  
His Vices past, nay, bear 'em purtraied, and  
Blazened in his Banner, as the Enemies,  
And Monsters, 'gainst which he is to wage  
A truceless-war for ever.  Eud. 
And when Timeus  
Shall begin his Race of virtue, who is there  
To be found, that can outstrip him, or bear up  
A Pace that's equal! O let me embrace  
You again, my Brother! Twice Saved, twice restored  
Unto me; and much Dearer in the Last  
Than First Gift of you. Before my arms  
Enfolded but my Comfort, but now they  
Contain, and hold their Wonder! And know Timeus,  
These virtue's Heaven has sent thee, are in no Idle  
Useless Season given thee, but bestowed  
With as much Providence as bounty; when  
An Occasion Great and High Calls on 'em.  
Say then, my Brave and virtuous Brother,  
Say, From thy New and Changed Soul within thee,  
That Radiant, and yet Sparkling virtue,  
From Heaven so Late descended, What Course  
Does Honour point forth unto our present  
Fortunes. What does its Sacred laws exact  
And Command from us. Take thus from me the State  
Ofour Condition. On the One Side, Our Lives  
Are granted by our Enemies, and not  
Only so, but we are Highly Courted  
To accept 'em, have all the Flatteries  
And Temptations, can make us Love them,  
Even Obtruded on us. On the Other,  
We have lost a Father, nay more, a Crown,  
They say, usurped. This mystery you better know  
Than I. Yet still Consider (for 'twill no less  
Concern our honour to weigh this thing)  
Whether a False and usurped Power (being still  
The sovereign and Highest) do not Create  
Something of a True and real greatness  
In the Persons that have borne it, which forbids'em  
To Act a Second, and a Lower Part, on this  
World's Stage. And if in this scrutiny, the Verdict  
Be cast against our Lives, Know 'tis not  
In Our enemy's powers to give us that,  
Which duty, our Higher Master, Commands us  
To throw from us; but either thou art obliged  
To show me the Way to Death; or 'tis expected,  
That thou Learn it from me.  Time. 
O Eudora,  
Thou Wonder of virtue, thou Miracle  
Of Honour! How sordid Low, how despicably  
Poor is all the World beside thee! What Noble  
Heights thy Soul does mount to, no less above  
The Following, than precedent of others!  
And shall I presume to Judge those Daz'ling-Flights,  
Which no Eye less heavenly than thine Own  
Can reach to? Shall Timeus? A truant?  
A Novice in the School of virtue?  
A Proficient but of Yesterday? No.  
Eudora, pronounce boldly what thy Soul  
Shall dictate, as to an Oracle I will submit,  
But never teach thy virtue. If the Question  
Thou hast put be Hard, I dare not speak in't,  
'Tis Eudoras' Life: if it be easy,  
'Twas yet her finding, and poorly I will not  
Rob her of the Glory.  Eud. 
Alas, alas,  
How far I am mistaken! Thou giv'st me Glory,  
And I need thy pity. Thus Children have a Sword  
Put in their Hand, when both their Hand and Sword  
Need holding by another. If I had  
Vanity to take unto myself the Powers  
Thou speak'st of; yet at this time,  
Like a physician that's himself distempered,  
My Learning and Experience serve me Nothing.  
No Timeus, my Reason's darkened,  
The Clouds of Discontent obscure my soul,  
And in the Mazes of a troubled Mind  
I wander without a Cleu to guide me.  
Death with his Horrors, and Dismay laid-by,  
Dressed in a Form bewitching, and Uncommon,  
And waited on by Crowds of Sweets, and Pleasures,  
(As if with Love again he had changed his Arrows)  
Most powerfully charms and calls me to Him!  
One while presents before me, the Famed Examples  
Of the Roman Fortitude, th' exalted  
Glories of those Ancient Worthies, that preferred  
A Noble Death, before a Life of Pleasure,  
And of Shame. And then pursues this theme  
Of Shame, though all those steps of low Contempt;  
And Scorn, I opened to you at the first,  
Or the world's Censure can be thought to blast  
The Gallant by. Life on the Other side,  
With a Deportment Sad, and Face Austere,  
Without all dress, or show of Blandishment,  
But with a kind of awful, and Divine  
Authority, forbids me hear th' Allurements  
Sung by Death; tells me, though the Notes be Sweet,  
theyare most Pernicious, and that a Siren  
Sings 'em; that the world's Opinions, as her  
Pleasures, are False and Impious, and by  
The virtuous both should be contemned, Opinions  
In Truth, and not in Number, take their weight.  
Now well I understand, when Both have Pleaded thus,  
'Tis neither Life, nor Death, the Noble should  
Desire, but Duty. The One, and Other,  
Aught to be held Indifferent: and this Third  
Alone with Passion be pursued. But now  
In which of these two Our Present Duty lies,  
There stands the Scruple I am troubled with,  
There stands the Doubt I would have solved. For when  
I dare meet Death in any Form, I would not  
Have it said Eudora forfeited the Belief,  
Of having a Diviner soul, while through Fear,  
Like a Plant or Vegetable, she clove  
To a Being on this Earth. Nor yet, when  
I have greatness enough to look on Life,  
In the most Frowning and Unpleasing Aspect,  
That unequal to my Miseries, outfaced  
With Troubles, I poorly fled my Station  
In this World, and Crept into the Calm of Death  
To seek my Peace. Like Boasters thus playing  
The Coward under a Masque of valour.  Time. 
Eudora, this part of your Philosophy,  
That Life and Death ought neither to be considered,  
But as they may Conduce unto our virtue,  
None more firmly does embrace than I.  
Nor in the days my Soul was tainted with  
The Blackest Crimes, was an Unmanly Fear,  
Ere part of that my Guilt. And yet Eudora,  
I must say, I see no reason, more than  
The Scruple, the Ruputation of thy Question  
Put into me, why the Prolonging of  
Our Lives should be Dishonourable to  
Either of Us. And if it be Duty that calls us  
To our Death, it will not be hard to show  
Where that Duty is set down. If the world's  
Opinion only, what that Opinion is,  
Thou hast already spoken. Thy words import  
Beside, that the Discontented, Passionate,  
Vainglorious, obtain not, by their Contempt  
Of Life, the Honours of a Noble Death:  
But Those alone, who have no Other Way,  
To save their virtue. So that, 'twas not Rome's  
Cato, or her Portia which deserved this Crown;  
But her Curtius,, her Regulus, her Decius.  
And if any do Object, that the first  
Of these, were also Highly virtuous,  
I readily confess it: but all that  
The virtuous do, is not always virtuous.  
This is an Immunity of the Gods,  
And not of goodmen. And though One Comm on  
Glory belonged unto the Lives of Both  
Of these, the Glory of their Deaths was far  
Unequal. The One sought Themselves, the Other  
Sought their Duty To bring all this home to Thee  
Eudora, Remember that thy virtue's  
Courted, thy Honour's safe, no way Assaulted.  
But adored. And then for Thee to think of Death,  
Is Idle, Vain, or Scrupulous; Error,  
And not virtue; Superstition, and not  Enter Pallantus. 
Duty, nay worse, 'tis Dire and Impious;  
Something that might suit perhaps, with the Foul Deeds  
Of Timeus former Life, but not with  
The Fairer Actions of Eudora.  Pall. 
How like a sky troubled with Clouds and Meteors,  
That Heavenly face appears! The most Propicious  
Aspects from on High, shine on their present  
Counsels. I fear some Deadly maxim governs,  
And guides their Consultation.  Eud. 
Timeus,  
This is the Time allowed us to work out  
To ourselves, an Everlasting Honour.  
If we let-slip the Opportunity,  
W''re lost unto a Noble Name for ever.  Time. 
Eudora, there's little danger of an Error,  
Or Omission there, where neither Will,  
Nor want of Care betrayed the Business held  
In Consultation.  Eud. 
For should we think  
To Reassume again hereafter, our  
councel's now laid-by; Our Neglect at present,  
Would not be looked on as an Error, but  
A most Wretched Poorness; and our best Pretences  
Be judged a pitiful afflicted Folly.  Time. 
There is but one Particular I know  
Can hinder, in Eudora, the choice of Life,  
From being just, and truly Honourable.  Eud. 
There spoke my Noble Brother! That, that particular  
Timeus! That Particular is Undoubtedly  
The thing we have so long been searching for,  
And never found till now.  Time. 
'Tis this Eudorn,  
That thou be well persuaded and assured,  
Of what thou put'st in Act: for the most Just  
And Lawful Action performed with Doubting,  
Becomes Unlawful.  Eud. 
Timeus, I thank you,  
For your Reproof; I shall believe it seasonably  
Given me. It has awaked me, and no longer  
Will I hover in a Doubtful Mind; 'Tis true,  
This sense you have delivered, coming to me  
From another Hand, I held suspected;  
Thought it not safe, too hastily to Credit it,  
From you: But seeing you do not only Affirm,  
But Abide and stand in this your Sentence:  
I likewise as an Undoubted Truth, will  
Accept, and rest upon it.— Say now Timeus,  
Do you know yond Person, that did Conduct you  
To this place?  Time. 
Know him, Eudora! Yes,  
When he wandered in Remotest Nations,  
My Fears held Intelligence on his Motions;  
When first he set his Foot within this Land,  
My Spirit, by a kind of Antipathy,  
Did feel it. In his Disguise I knew him.  
There is no Place, or Shape he can be Hid in,  
But my Soul would find him. He was the Meteor first,  
That hung with Direful Threats o'er my Impiety.  
But since the Auspicious Star, that lead me,  
Both to Honour, and to Life. 'Tis the Valiant,  
Virtuous, and heroic Prince Pallantus!  Eud. 
My Obligations are no less to him,  
Than yours. Too long we do neglect him,  
And having once resolved to accept of Life,  
We ought to acknowledge it to Him that  
Gave it us. Let us join our Thanks together.  Here they both go to Pallantus, who sees them not, till Eudora begins to speak, but then as one surprised he turns to them. Eud. 
My Lord— we come to acknowledge our Lives,  
To have been your Gift, and in no Common way  
Bestowed upon us. Mercy must be allowed  
A share i'th' Act; but had not your Honour,  
And Prudence, wrought more Effectually,  
The Other virtue had been Useless to us.  
As you are the Greatest, Bravest, most Glorious  
Person of this your Age; may you be likewise seen,  
The most Fortunate, and most Happy.  Pall. 
Eudora, like the Gods, when she says happiness,  
She Gives it. But what thanks shall I, and all  
The World with me, return for the Unvaluable  
Benefit, she acknowledges Received,  Enter Rodia. 
But is indeed conferred on us, The Conservation  
Of her Life?  Rod. 
Madam, the King's hard by,  
Coming, as 'tis said, with an intent  
To visit you.  Eud. 
The King!  Pall. 
'tis true Madam.  
I had it in command from him, to say,  
He was a suitor to you, to admit  
A Visit from him;  Eud. 
What will you do, Timeus,  
With yourself!  Time. 
Not willingly meet him  
At this time.  Pall. 
My Lord, you need not, you may  
Withdraw. I believe too, a fitter time  Exeunt Timeus, Poly. Menetius. 
May be found to present you to him.  Enter Cleander, Clearchus, leading Hianthe, Melissa, Aratus, Haimantus, Phronimus, and Eurylochus. Clean. 
Madam, fall not so low; too much already  Euroda offers to kneel. 
We have Dejected you, and gladly would  
Descend ourselves, to raise you Higher.  
Yet look on that Majesty the Gods have  
Enthroned in you, your Matchless virtues,  
And Divine Perfections, and you will see  
Not only there's none Above you, but none  
Can be found your Peers. Our Visit, is in wish  
To Comfort you; and we hope, while our Highest  
Vows are such, you will not scorn the Offer,  
Though from your Enemies; your Enemies,  
By Fate, and Fortune Madam; by Design,  
And Will, your vowed and perfect Servants.  Eud. 
O Sir,.  
Permit me to throw myself before your Feet!  
It is not fit I stand an equal Height,  
With Majesty and virtue, so much Above me.  
What hateful Name, and by the World abhorred,  
Is due to me, when you have called to yourself  
An Enemy? If you are One, 'tis to  
Your own security, in preferring thus  
Your Mercy, before your Peace. y''ave given me,  
And my Brother Life, to bring your own in danger,  
And removed our Grief, which may hereafter  
Cause it to yourself. Sir, think me Unworthy,  
But not a Scorner, of these Favours. I know  
To weigh both my Losses, and Obligations  
To you.  Clean. 
If you will make us happy,  
To partake hereafter our joys with us,  
With you we will observe your days of Mourning.  
Count all your losses Ours; with most Obsequious Rites  
Adorn the Dead; remember, and lament him,  
As a common Parent.  Hian. 
None, Madam,  
With so high a Confidence, can wish you  
Comfort, as myself; who in so long, and sad  
A Night of sorrow, knew none, but what you gave me.  
Be Favourable still to me, and grant me  
A time to pay 'em back; be favourable  
To the Age in the same Grant; your Name will bless  
Its Annals, while it has leave to boast,  
Not only its own virtues, but all the former Years  
Could justly Glory in.  Clear. 
Fame, thou spokest loudly  
Of these Ladies, and yet thy voice was narrow  
In their praise.  Enter Comastes creeping behind the backs of the Company, who severally make their Addresses to Eudora. Com. 
I have Past hitherto,  
And perceive no great Alteration.  
I thought the subversion of a State,  
Would have changed the form o'th' Houses, and the Streets.  
It has not shifted a suit of Hangings here.  
Yonder's our princess too; I am among Friends.  
Now Fortune direct me, which is the King—  
The Least-Change that e'er I saw. Nay, than  
I perceive, I may e'en do what I list.  Ara. 
My Lord Comastes! Faith this was kindly done,  
To make the King a Visit.  Com. 
Your servant  
My Lord. I hope you have forgot the little  
Unkindness, which passed betwixt Your Lordship,  
And myself, and will speak a Noble Word  
In my behalf unto the King.  Ara. 
Ha, ha, ha,  
Wouldst thou be Fool again?  Com. 
No my Lord,  
You know I was never called so in the Last reign.  Ara. 
Ha, ha, ha, Why I tell thee, the King's too serious.  
He never Laughs, nor Smiles, but very seldom,  
And then 'tis still in Approbation,  
Of something Excellent. He hates a Jest. Look,  
Twice h'as cast his Eye upon thee, and yet  
Keeps his Countenance: Despair of ever Pleasing him,  
There's no buffoonery can come from thee,  
So Ridiculous, as thy present Misery.  Clean. 
My Lord— Who's that?  Ara. 
One Sir that was Master  
Of the Dead King's Mirth, he never laughed without  
His Allowance. 'twas in's Power to have jested  
The best Head off in the kingdom: Yet I think  
He was guilty of no worse Crime, than Lunary.  Clean. 
What does he expect?  Ara. 
To hold the same place  
Under you.  Clear. 
Sir, we understand you,  
And your Desires. Go, leave the Court; be not  
Seen in't after this day, upon your Life.  
And look warily to your Actions,  
If you shall deserve the Lightest Punishment,  
The Heaviest shall fall on you.  Ara. 
Stay my Lord—  
Sir, you have doomed him, as if you had been Witness  
Of his Follies, and were there not hopes he might  
Redeem the Life he has so ill spent,  
A weightier judgement were deserved by him.  
Sir, I beseech you let me entreat for him,  
He's yet Young, and if he have Leave, may be  
Virtuous Continue Sir, as you have begun,  
To Change the Men, and not Destroy 'em.  
He thrust himself with confidence on your Mercy,'  
Let it not be said, that that was a Snare to any.  
Besides, Sir, you have made this Place a Sanctuary,  
To All that can claim an Interest  
In that Excellent Lady.  Clean. 
My Lord, I would  
Be ever taught thus by you. Sir, I recall  
What I have said, and wish to see those virtues,  
We hope in you,  Com. 
I'll not despair Sir,  
To be Master of 'em, 'Twas the desire  
Of Favour with my King, that made me what  
I was before, and shame now to Remember.  
But seeing I am to please another way,  
And make virtue my Endeavour, Unwearied  
In those Rougher ways I'll toil to gain your Smiles.  He kisses the King's hand: Clean. 
My Lord, having weighed the Necessity  
Of your Voyage, I shall not with unseasonable  
Compliments importune your stay, but rather  
Give my best Assistance both to make it  
Prosperous, and your Return more speedy.  
We have ordered a Fleet, my Lord, to attend  
On your Designs, not so much inferior  
In Number of Men and Vessels to your own.  Clear 
Sir, too profusely you bestow these large  
Benefits upon me, without naming all  
Conditions, or share of Venture with me.  Clean. 
Conditions, my Lord? Hereafter Ages,  
That have forgot our Obligations,  
May make Articles between our Nations,  
But ours must ne'er know any; we cannot  
Be Losers by you, from whom we have received  
All that we possess.  Pall. 
My Lord, I am  
An humble suitor (if I may obtain  
His majesty's leave) to be allowed a place  
In this your Voyage. The Kingdom sends forth none  
More useless to it, than myself; none that  
With more reason seeks the Tumults of a War,  
To cure the Troubles of an unquiet Mind.  Clean. 
My Lord, you hold the palm out to me,  
In this offer of your Company. Victory,  
I know, will follow, which way so e'er you  
Turn you. I shall be proud to serve myself  
Under so Brave a Conduct.  Clean. 
This Accession  
Likewise, my Lord, I shall be willing to grant  
Unto your Voyage; but still that your Return  
May be more speedy. Yet I hope we have  
A Gage in this Lady more powerful than  
All Others, One that will put an Edge unto  
Your Sword, and sails unto you Vessels.  Clear. 
Sir, in Her Name alone I do pursue  
This Voyage, and in Her Name alone,  
Shall hope a prosperous and speedy Issue.  Pall. 
Madam, though a Hard Fate, or Fortune no less  
Cruel, has set me for ever at a Hated  
Distance to you. Yet another power,  
No whit Inferior to the Former, Commands me,  
To direct all my Actions to your Service.  
And however Unaccepted, nay Unknown,  
To you, I pay these Devotions, yet  
Constantly to pay them still. In Obedience  
To this Power I have engaged myself unto  
This present Voyage; an Undertaking  
To me, without Design, without all Fruit:  
But either, as I hope, by some famed Action  
To add a Glory more unto your Name,  
Or by my Seasonable Destruction,  
For ever to remove a Hated Object  
From your Sight.  Eud. 
My Lord, while you strive to confer  
More Glory on me than I dare Assume,  
You take some from me, which I may justly Claim;  
And Blast my Honour, while you seek to Raise it.  
Wrongfully you Charge both my Innocence  
And clearness, when you say, I Hate you,  
Or can be pleased with your Destruction.  
I have already acknowledged the Highest  
Benefits received from you, offered my vows to Heaven  
In your behalf: and though, when these are once paid,  
They do not there take End: Yet to repeat them  
Oft unto yourself, would ill become  
Eudoras' tongue, and less the greatness of  
Pallantus ears. But if what's already past  
Be too little to assure you, your ruin's  
No Part of my desires, by this Double suit  
I shall seek to confirm you further. First,  
That you will be pleased to take my Brother  
This Voyage with you. And let this persuade you,  
I seek not your Destruction. Next, that you will  
Obtain me leave to retire from Court, to pay  
That Debt ofteares in quiet, I have so long  
Owed unto the Dead. And this no less ought  
To assure you, I cannot Hate that person,  
By whom I seek so far to be disposed of.  Pall. 
Madam, you have given me a happiness,  
Which neither envy, Malice, nor the worst  
Of Fortune can take from me.  
You have set me the only man above  
The stroke of Fate. Whatever you desire,  
After your Own manner, and in your own Time,  
Will be permitted to you; and you may command  
Not only for yourself, but in the behalf  
Of Others. And may, I hope, after these days  
Of Mourning are expired, to see again  
That Joy return into your Face, which I  
Was never yet so blessed as to behold?  
And shall in that Day a Servants Humblest suit  
Take place; which now his High Respects forbid him,  
Even to Name to you?  Eud. 
Now first, My Lord,  
I have seen a weakness in you; but yet  
I shall thus far Remember you. That the  
Gallant Ask not their Fortunes, but they Make 'em.  
A more Direct Answer I must not give you.  
And if it appear hard to you, that I refuse  
To prophesy in that, I may seem so well  
To Know my Resolutions; ask the same Question  
Of those that have been held the most Allowable,  
And wise Diviners in your present Case,  
Your virtue, Honour, Obligations to me;  
And hear what they will say. Perhaps they'll Doubt,  
Or Hide their Skill; if they do, Excuse a virgin's  
Silence, when such bolder Oracles make no Reply.  Pall. 
Madam, let me kiss your hand— I beg your pardon.  
No further shall I provoke you with my  
Disordered Passion, though I know, nothing  
But my Wonder can be increased by your  
Replies. Your wisdom, Honour, Beauty,  
All Incomparable, shall be the Incitements  
Of my Actions unto Glory, in hope  
They may hereafter prove their Crown and Ornament.  
In the mean time I shall seek to know no other thing  
But this, How most worthily I may approve  
Myself your Servant.  Clean. 
And Madam  Cleander when he speaks, takes Eudora in one hand, and Pallantus in the other. 
If favourably you shall admit him  
In that quality, we All will glory  
To wear the same Title. And think not, that  
A Single Person Courts you, but in a  
Single Person, th' Interest of the kingdom.  
Even thus Divided I acknowledge ye Both  
To be the Chiefest Glory of your Country,  
But when ye shall be joined ye'll add yet more  
Unto her happiness, and be no less  
Her Peace, and her security. But I  
Anticipate the Blessings of another Day,  
When my duty commands me to give thanks  
For those I have received on this. And hitherto  
Our kingdom, hath been like the kingdom of  
The Gods, felicity has succeeded  
To felicity, and joys have Crowned joys.  
And should this Day Conclude what it hath Begun,  
I have yet reigned a Perfect Reign; having  
Beheld in Few hours, the Strange and Various  
Changes of an Age.  Exeunt Omnes. This Play being designed for an etertainment of the King and Queen at York-House, at the Nuptials of the Lady Mary Villers, and the Lord Charles Herbert, had Scenes fitted to evety Passage of it throughout, and the last in this place was a funeral Pile, bearing on the top the body of the Dead Tyrant, and set out with all the Pomp the Ancients used in those Ceremonies. This seen consisted only of music and show; on the one side of the Pile stands a Consort of musicians, representing the Priests of the Land, and on the other side of it another, representing the People. People. 
Sacred paeans to Mars sing,  
Notes of Triumph, not of Woe,  
Hence your Ewe and cypress fling,  
Who adorns a Trophy so?  
These are the spoils of our Great Enemy,  
Hang Garlands on them of the laurel Tree.  1. Priest. 
Hence impure and bloody voice,  
Far be from our Mysteries,  
Bidentals are Jove's proper choice,  
Holier than the Sacrifice,  
Each unskilful Hand and Rude,  
At his altar dares obtrude.  Here all the principal Persons of the Play enter in Mourning. 2. Priest. 
Touch not then with Lips profane,  
What heaven's Fire hath purified,  
tears have washed away his Stain,  
His Black Deeds his blood hath died.  
He for his sins hath paid, with Death and Sorrow,  
His Credit's more that pays, than doth not Borrow.  
Chor. He for his sins hath paid, with Death and Sorrow.  
His Credit's more, &c.  People. 
Yet still you must allow a Fault.  
And that by Death his Body ought  
To Expiate Offences Higher,  
Then purge if Sulphur, Salt, and Fire.  
lest your too partial Favour this way bent,  
Excuse the Ill, and Blame the Innocent.  
Chor. lest your too partial Favour this way bent,  
Excuse the Ill, &c.  
About the middle of the last Stanzo, Timeus puts a lighted Torch to the bottom of the Pile which gives fire to some Perfumes laid there on purpose; the which wraps the Pile in smoke, and smells o'er all the room. At the End of the Song the Curtain falls, and shuts both the Scene and Actors from the beholder's Sight.  
FINIS.    

Midnight and Daily THOUGHTS  

To a careless Sinner.  
THou dost not, sure, believe that thou shalt die,  
Or never think'st upon it seriously;  
Because thou liv'st as if thou didst disdain,  
After this life, ever to rise again:  
Else thou wouldst set a higher price upon  
The Glories of thy Resurrection:  
For 'tis not possible a Man of sense  
Can always hold so ill intelligence  
With Heaven, as not to wish, or not to fear,  
He never may, or never would come there.   

Some Caveats.  

WHen petty Pleasures are procured with Gold,  
When youth is gone, and we decrpeid old,  
There's no more Gusto than a Tale twice told.   

The greatest Monarchs, while they flourished,  
Were honoured and adored; but being dead,  
Were soon forgot, and only pitied.   

So that whatever Marble Tombs pretend,  
All their gay glories never can defend  
Their pampered bodies from the Beggar's end.   

Caesar and Alexander both became  
The highest splendour of a glorious Name;  
And yet in some things both deserved blame.   

So that when Men have all the World subdued,  
They may themselves, and all their Fame delude,  
Unless they do in Piety conclude.   

Those mighty Hero's cared not to be good,  
(But brave) because they never understood  
The sacred Sanction of our Saviour's Blood.   

But those who saw the Miracles he did,  
And heard how boldly he their Crimes forbid,  
Are justly scourged, instead of being chid.   

What's our due then, who do believe, yet run  
The course which that accursed Crew begun,  
To slight God, and recrucify his Son?   

Which shows Men want some Caveats to restrain  
The idle Fancies of a busy Brain,  
That frequent losses bring, instead of gain.   

These serious Thoughts are Caveats to despise  
Such Crimes, as from our idle hours may rise,  
And captivate our Senses in disguise.   

Till by a power divine we can obtain  
Such bright, serener joys, as will sustain  
Our Souls, and to eternity remain.   

For we are born to learn, and to express,  
By daily actions, what we do profess  
To purchase everlasting happiness.    

On Poverty.  
PUre honest Poverty in former times,  
Was no disgrace; but now our latter Crimes  
Have introduced new kinds of punishments,  
To expiate our sins, for old Contempts  
In luxury, and such profuse expense,  
That we are now chastized for that offence,  
With Penury, to make us own our shame,  
And free all present accidents from blame:  
Which from God's mercy now to us is sent,  
To make our most obdurate hearts repent.  
And yet there may such poverty proceed  
From wicked Men, whose malice have decreed  
Our ruin, to get wealth for their support,  
In spite of right, or their damnation for't.  
And such absurd, base scandals do invent,  
That no man's innocence can e'er prevent.  
From such Devils, good Lord, deliver me,  
As hate all those, who truly worship thee;  
And with profound repentance do submit  
To all the judgements that our God thinks fit;  
And make the poverty I now endure,  
For all excesses past a perfect cure.   

On Pride.  
OF all the Vanities I know, 'tis Pride,  
Which all the World most justly may deride,  
That like an Ass, with golden Trappings dressed,  
Thinks himself 'bove all other Beasts the best;  
And when he brays, does all that hear him fright,  
Mistaking their amazement for delight;  
Like gilded Fools, that only learn of late  
To strut, and make loud noise when they do prate;  
For Pride did ne'er the greatest man adorn,  
Nor free him from God's hate, and wise mens' scorn.  
Satan for Pride, and for Ambition fell,  
With his accursed Crew, from heaven to Hell.   

On Pride's Kindred.  
PRide's next of kin, are such as do despise  
Their Neighbours, for the Motes in their dark Eyes;  
Who first their own Beams should remove, then learn:  
That Rule, by which they may such Motes discern,  
And by this caution constantly prevent  
Such rash Censures, that do raise discontent  
Between good Friends, who seldom will endure  
A blind mens' Precepts, till himself he cure.   

Septemb. 3. 1693. On this Day's Sacrament received.  
LORD,  
I Did believe, but not such joy conceive  
As since I did thy Sacrament receive,  
To ratify thy mercy, and my zeal,  
By adding of thy Holy Spirit's Seal  
Upon my heart, to manifest thy love,  
And all my doubts and fears by faith remove,  
Which made me shrink from death; but now my voice  
Shall hallelujahs sing, and Soul rejoice,  
To celebrate this Victory obtained  
O'er all my sins, by thy blessed Conduct gained.  
How great then is my Obligation grown,  
If thou wilt this day my Election own,  
By adding joys on joys, and grace on grace,  
Till I in glory come to see thy face!  
And now adore and worship thy great Name,  
With warm addresses from this sacred flame.   

On Adoption.  
I Have read, that he who lives in a constant, uniform Obedience to the Gospel, and performs the Conditions required in it, departs sincerely from iniquity, and shuts up the ways that lead him into temptation, may give himself as strong and comfortable an assurance, that he is an adopted Child of God, as if a voice from the Clouds should tell him so; and is a good argument for frequent Meditations.   

How to know when our Sins are forgiven.  
IT has been asked, How a Soul may know when her Sins are forgiven? and answered thus: When she finds the same affection to God, with his that said, I hate iniquity, and all false ways I utterly abhor. Yet David, who said so, did die, and so must we. Tho' our Souls may, by the same grace, become of the same temper with his, and our sins be forgiven too; yet we may consider how few Men do slip out of this World into eternity, with a joyful hearty delight to be with God (through divine Love) which is the highest perfection of an holy life; and is our greatest assurance to manifest our sins forgiven, when our Souls are by faith so fixed on God, as to know no joy so great as such spiritual Comforts do raise, when we desire to be in Heaven; which taught David to hate iniquity, and to abhor all false ways; and so reduced him from all his sins, to become a man after God's own Heart.   

On Reconciliation before we die.  
IF we fully consider our manifold sins, and the horrid Punishment due unto us for them, if not forgiven before we die, 'twill make us tremble at the approach of Death. But if we do believe in Christ's plenteous Redemption, with GOD's immense Mercy to deliver us from Hell's eternal Torments, and exalt us unto Heaven's eternal Joy and Glory; it may be justly said, Happy is that Man who can obtain such a Reconciliation with GOD before he die (as daily to delight in the Meditation of a sudden Death, with inward assurance of his eternal Bliss the moment he expires) which is the highest Exaltation of Joy on Earth, and will be the greatest Comfort at the hour of Death; and aught to be the chief Business of all Men to live and die so, who do march every moment, from our Cradles, dying, towards our Graves.   

On Heavenly Joy.  
WHate'er we do on Earth, we all pretend  
Heaven is our Home, Heaven is our Journey's end.  
That's true seraphic Joy, when we do find  
Such elevated Bliss, as fills the Mind  
With high transports of God's celestial Throne,  
And all our meaner Objects we disown:  
Yet sometimes spoil our blessed angelic rest,  
To roll on Roses, when on Thorns is best,  
Vainly thinking some diviner Grace  
May smooth afflictions with a smiling face;  
When sighs and tears (if they come not too late)  
More surely can our heavenly Joys create.  
When God observes our Zeal to do our best  
To please, we shall assuredly be blessed;  
And may expect to find more Penitents  
Encircling of God's Throne, than Innocents:  
Which shows sincere Repentance surely can,  
With a fixed Faith, restore relapsed Man.  
Thus may our high-raised, warm addresses prove  
Bright Ecstasies of the divinest Love.  
Then will our Souls from dross be clean refined,  
And by our sacred chemist be calcined,  
Fit for a Choir of Angels to attend  
Such Saints, and sing them to their Journey's end.   

On taking heed of all our Ways.  
WHen God reduces Sinners, to take heed  
Of all their ways, in thought, in word and deed,  
Repentance then will be of little use,  
When all our actions will need no excuse:  
We shall the World subdue, and stoutly stand  
In full obedience unto God's Command.  
And then will Death in glorious Robes descend  
To guide, not fright us, at our Journey's end.  
So that if we take heed in all our ways,  
We shall the Devil defeat, and wear the Bays.   

To a Friend.  
My dear Friend,  
I Have read in a divine Author, That if God be with us, he will make us see that he is with us; and will not depart from our sight, until he has brought us never to depart out of his. Which is a Lesson of high concern to Men in this World; for Thus to enjoy God here, is to be in Heaven before we die. When our Souls are thus transported with a continual divine Conversation with Almighty God, we may taste and relish his celestial Joys to some degree, so as to invite us to value his spiritual Comforts above all carnal Fruitions. So that our great Business is to improve this Blessing to the highest reach of human Fancy, by a daily practice of holy Meditations, to contemplate and observe how God doth infuse this joyful enjoying of Him into our Souls, by the secret working of the Holy Ghost; when we set ourselves with zealous integrity to find him there, to converse with us on this great lesson of his immense Mercy, with our humble prayers to be enlightened from above, to participate of such angelical Delights, as far as our frail Nature will admit of; which by frequent use, will bring us to such an habit of holy living, that God will manifest his presence ever with us, by an inward Felicity of divine Comforts, to such an assurance of our Election unto eternal Bliss, as is ineffable to be described: So that when we raise our Thoughts with a divine Desire, to know as much of God as we can know, and of his being with us, he will add of his Grace to enlarge our Capacities to such heavenly Trances in Devotion, that we shall be with him, and he with us, as we do wish, with such a joy as will dread all diverting Occasions that shall obstruct those Emanations of his holy Spirit working in us.  
And thus if we do entertain ourselves by such frequent addresses to find God, he will daily meet, and ever dwell with us, if we unfelgnedly desire to dwell with him; and will give us such a glimpse of his eternal Bliss, as may fix our hearts on Heaven, and make us live every moment in a joyful Expectation of Death's quickest Summons thither; and by this frequent entertainment of thy Soul with God, Thou, my Friend, wilt find such a communication with God on Earth, to be the highest Perfection of Piety, and a felicity much more delightful than all other Diversions, which can never reach such seraphic Joys, as I wish to thee my Friend.   

On the Fear of Death.  
IF we fully consider our manifold Sins, and the horrid judgement due unto us for them, it may well be said, Happy is that Man who can obtain such a Reconciliation with God before he die, as daily to delight in the meditation of a sudden death, with inward assurance of his eternal Bliss the moment that he expires. Because all our Ideas of the divine Felicities above, do seldom invite Men to welcome Death with cheerful Hearts: Our fears are so much stronger than our Faith, that too many Men do rather think, than find they do believe that Christ's plenteous Redemption will cancel all their Crimes, and bring them into Heaven; and therefore dare not really rejoice to look on death; but start back from such angelic Happiness, as he brings good Men to participate of, in God's eternal Glory; which natural infirmity of doubting, can only, by an illustrious Faith, be removed; and that Faith, by frequent Prayers, be obtained. Then, thus to live, and so to die, will make us live and die in great tranquillity, though not to reach St. Stephen's Faith, who saw Heaven open to him; yet to so great a degree of divine Raptures in Devotion, as to be filled with elevations of an inward assurance of our Election, which must come from God, when the Soul is in such a blessed Trance of celestial Delight, that is ineffable to be described. How near such joy is to the joy we read of in Paradise; when fervent Zeal is by a lively Faith so raised, and sixed in God by frequent Meditations, it is a wonder that such Men can fear to die, or doubt togo to God with cheerful Hearts, when thus invited, and thus led by his holy Spirit, with such bright illuminations of surprising joys, while those divine Flames last, as cannot be related. When mens' hearts are warmed with such seraphic high Transports of Love and Mercy from Almighty God, to give true Penitents some taste of their eternal Glory; that being thus enlightened, they may not fear to die; but rather welcome death, who comes to carry them to Heaven, which is the highest Exaltation of the Soul's joy, so to delight in God, that the expectation of Heaven may be more pleasant, than all the momentary Fruitions of this World are, compared unto a blessed incomprehensible Eternity,  
Which neither Wit nor Fancy can express,  
When multiplying numbers make it less;  
When neither first nor last can e'er be known  
Points so far distant, yet so joined in one,  
That the eternal Circle shows us none,  
But is a secret known to God alone.  
'Tis such a sacred Riddle, so● profound,  
That human Wisdom never can expound;  
But leaves us still to wonder and adore,  
What will be after, and what was before.   

On the Power of Faith.  
THough Men by Nature born to fear, and to avoid what may seem hurtful, yet that fear by Grace and Faith may be converted into divine Valour of the highest kind, as is evident by the Three Children in the fiery Furnace, and by Daniel in the Lion's Den; which with other the like Examples, should invite such Men as trust in God, not to fear what he only can prevent, if he thinks fit; and though a fearful Man cannot remove a molehill for want of Faith, much less Mountains; how little Faith then have we, when the noise only of Ill News does affright our unsettled Souls with dismal apprehensions of what may never happen more than the ill event brings with it, if it do, unto such pious men as live prepared to bear afflictions for few moments here, with faithful, joyful Thoughts of their eternal Happiness in Heaven. So that we see the Power of Faith will remove the greatest terror, and work Miracles, when Men dare trust in God.  
Lord, give me grace to live, as I do write,  
And as thy holy Spirit shall indite,  
To manifest thy mighty Mercy shown  
To such a Reprobate as must own.   

Christ's Doctrine to suffer.  
CHrist's Doctrine is with patience to enure  
Ourselves to suffer, what he did endure  
On Earth; from that malicious, cursed Crew,  
Who scorned his Miracles, and boldly slew  
Their blessed Messiah, who did then submit  
To die, because his Father did think fit,  
That we, redeemed by his precious Blood,  
Might trust in him, who died to do us good;  
And now may sighing sing, and weeping pray  
Our death may prove our highest holiday,  
When we with Christ in Paradise appear,  
And shine amongst those blessed Angels there.   

On the Power of Love to God.  
TO love and fear God, is what every good Christian doth own, and what most Men think they do; but very few, I fear, do understand what it is to love and fear Him as we ought, with all our Heart, Soul, and Mind, above all other Objects whatever; which is a Lesson of great use to bring Men to Heaven; who know that we are dying every moment that we live, and cannot wish more pleasure here, than we shall find by serving God thus: For those who can love him with all their Heart, and Mind, will worship, and adore him with the same Zeal, and will obey, praise, thank, pray, and trust in him with the like fervent affection, in all their divine addresses, with their utmost endeavours to be with him in Heaven; which God never will reject; nor can eternal Bliss be purchased at a lower rate of Love.  
Thus God exposes Heaven, to entice  
Good Men, to purchase at the Market-price;  
When Love, with all its Perquisites, comply,  
To six a blessed Immortality  
On such exalted Souls, as take delight  
To mediate on his beatic sight.  
When their enlightened Faith does bring them there,  
(Enriched with love) they'll bid adieu to fear,  
And leave no arguments to justify  
Such timorous Men, as dare not think to die;  
Though their eternal joy will then be such,  
That none will have too little, or too much.  
And those who truly love, will surely find  
Their happiness by God is predesigned,  
Who sees the heart and thoughts of every Man,  
That loves and serves him to the best they can.   

On Faith.  
WHen Faith grows strong, our Fancies will soar high,  
To search the secrets of Eternity;  
Which to our Souls are of so near concern,  
That no man can a greater Lesson Learn,  
Nor have a more serene, celestial Bliss,  
Than he'll enjoy, by practising of this  
Great step, which by degrees will lead him on  
To the sacred Seat of his Adoption,  
Where Faith 'bove all the Gifts of Grace will shine,  
With Love in Bliss, and Glory most divine.   

On God's Mercy.  
OUr God from us his Glory keeps concealed,  
Because it would destroy us, if revealed:  
His Essence we can never understand;  
'Tis well if we obey his just Command;  
For God to mortal Man will never teach  
Such great Secrets; because what we can reach,  
By Nature cloys, as soon as had or known:  
He therefore lets us live by Faith alone;  
Still subject to so many hopes and fears,  
That our prime Joys are damped by frequent tears,  
Which daily do our sorrows multiply,  
Until death comes, to tell us we must die;  
The only remedy ordained to cure  
All sorts of evils that we here endure.  
Yet God in mercy makes amends at last,  
To free us from all miseries are past,  
By raising them to bliss, who do their best  
To gain a share in his eternal rest;  
Which belt in God's esteem is to do all  
Was done by blessed St. Stephen and St. Paul.   

On true Valour.  
HAppy are they, who in these latter days,  
Are filled with love, with gratitude and praise  
To God, whose joyful Souls do ever fly  
With highest thoughts of their Eternity;  
And by the actions of their lives declare,  
That Faith in Christ, has conquered their despair,  
For all past Crimes; and now with Death has made  
Strict Friendship, never more to be afraid  
Of his most sick alarms, in disguise,  
Nor of his quickest Summons by surprise.  
And thus the greatest Cowards in the Land,  
For Valour may in competition stand,  
With any Hero's of the former age,  
Or those who now in a just cause engage,  
When Courage is a virtue to be brave,  
And sets a Crown on such a Soldier's grave.   

On Relapsed Man in Paradise.  
WHen Youth with strength, wealth, and beauty flourish,  
Some short joys our wanton hearts may nourish;  
But when old age is much decrepit grown,  
We ought with sighs and tears great Sorrows own,  
For idle hours that we have vainly spent,  
Without the sense of shame or punishment;  
And if we die in that unhappy state,  
All hopes of mercy than will come too late;  
So that if age revive, and propagate  
Past sins, till they do greater Crimes create,  
'Twill turn old Age's Blessings into hate.  
Then let no mortal man presume to think  
He cannot see, when he is pleased to wink;  
For no Man yet was ever such a Sot,  
That Age his former Crimes had so forgot,  
That on his Crutches thinks 'tis boldly brave,  
Loaden with Crimes to creep into the Grave.  
Much worse than Youth, when crossed in his desire,  
In a mad fit, dares leap into the fire:  
Which shows, that all our Ages here, ne'er can  
Retrieve the Curses of relapsed Man;  
Till faith in Christ create a brighter flame,  
Impow'ring men to have a surer claim  
To Heaven, at our blessed Saviour's cost,  
Than that, which Adam's disobedience lost.  
By which, we the intrinsic Treasure find  
Of future joys, in a seraphic mind.   

On the Power of Faith.  
IF all Men did our Christian Graces understand, That like good heralds we might rank them according to their antiquity and merit, Faith may claim the highest dignity and place, as of just right, to be the most fixed foundation on the blessed Rock of our Salvation, which will, unmoved, withstand the greatest Storms, when lofty Structures built on Sand, are, with Wind and Rain, soon tumbled down. And if we mind those mighty Miracles of the first Ages, they all relate unto Faith. Our blessed Saviour also used to say, Whosoever believeth in me, shall never die: (Do you believe that I can do this? and then, Be it done according to your Faith) Thy Faith has made thee whole. The Woman with the bloody Issue, had no other application for her Cure but Faith.  
Without Faith, what signifies our Creed?  
And to what purpose did our Saviour bleed!  
If we all Doubting could from Faith divide,  
Pure Faith would then in greatest triumph ride.  
God grant all those the Power of Faith, that die  
In joyful Hopes of blessed eternity;  
When their departing Souls will gladly own,  
By faith they rise from Dunghills to a Throne.   

How to delight in GOD.  
THe Text says, Delight in the Lord, and he will give thee thy hearts desire: And no doubt but if we delight in him, with the highest faculty of our Souls (above all carnal appetites) with contemplation of his glorious Essence and Attributes, in frequent fervent Prayers, with continual Gratitude for his daily Mercies. To adore him as we might, we should find such a rejoicing in God, to be the most voluptuous felicity that the heart of Man is capable of. But we mock ourselves too often with a belief of this Felicity, by a careless searching short in our own Hearts, for a clear proof of the divine Perfection of this delighting in God; which every Man must find in himself; for no Man can correct the unseen errors of his Neighbour's heart. So that it must be every Man's concern to examine his own Conscience, how much he rejoices in God, more than in all worldly Fruitions; and according to his proportion in excelling therein, his peace of Conscience will prove the more exalted joyful Feast, and will create in him the greatest hope of his heart's promised desire, and is the surest way to remove our natural Fear of Death, who only can lead us to glory; which all Men ought to think on, more than all other affairs in this World: For if we delight in God as we ought,  
We should the clear intrinsic value find,  
When Grace enriches a delighted Mind,  
That trusts in God; and by such blessed converse,  
Excels all pleasures of the Universe,  
Which no Man's Faith nor Fancy can conceive,  
Till that delightful practice gives him leave:  
Then Souls enlightened by that holy fire,  
Will pass to Paradise when they expire;  
An higher Bliss can no Man's heart desire  
Though worldly joys may all our Senses please,  
The Soul's joy makes them all but a disease.  
But when God's glory in our Souls doth shine,  
It shows those holy Raptures are divine.  
Yet we ought not to think, that every petty pleasing Object that assaults our Senses, doth deserve the Name of a Delight, more than little Children have for every new Baby they do see. But when the Soul's supreme delight is so fixed on God, that every address brings men as near to him as Souls can come while they are involved in Clay; yet by a flaming Zeal, and such high mounting Faith, as doth believe that God is everywhere, and Heaven with him, and them, are altogether at that time there. Where such joys may grow up to such a divine Delight in God, as will come nearest unto his beatic sight (tho' few Men seek it by such practice as we might) and therefore cannot fancy such transcending Bliss on Earth, as those her metick Livers have, who daily do converse in Heaven, with great delight, in expectation of a quick Summons thither; and such Piety may be truly called, Delighting in God.  
'Tis said my Book does need apology,  
To beg a Pardon for tautology;  
Which is a Crime I never understood,  
If the repeated matter be all good;  
David's Example, as my Pattern, may  
Excuse that error, and for pardon pray.   

On the Power of Divine Meditation.  
Dauid says God requires no Sacrifice,  
But Penitence and Faith; he does despise  
The Blood of Beasts; We are to thank and praise  
His holy Name, and honour him always.  
And if we trust him as we ought, Mankind  
Will be, by frequent Comforts, so refined,  
That we on Earth shall have a daily taste  
Of his eternal Peace, and joys at last.  
If David's Rules authentic be, That God  
Had rather use his Mercy than his Rod,  
And proffers Heaven at so cheap a rate,  
T'invite us to become regenerate.  
What labour less can mortal Men invent,  
To gain God's favour, and 'scape his punishment!  
If thus our Duty may his Favour claim,  
All Men will trust and honour his great Name.  
Such Ecstasies in Meditation will  
mens' heads with glorious heavenly Visions fill;  
And by degrees our Souls with joys advance,  
To think that we are there in such a trance;  
And find that such enlightening Zeal as this,  
Is emanation for our future Bliss.   

A Dream of Heaven.  
THough Sleep Death's Image be, I have been now,  
I know not where, conveyed I know not how!  
Where something did appear so dazzling bright,  
I could not see its Glory, for the Light.  
My Soul suprized with Wonder; and amaze,  
Methought I prayed, and did forbear to gaze:  
Frighted and pleased at what I liked, and feared,  
I found it was a Dream of Heaven appeared;  
Which waking fled; but did my Fancy fill  
With blessed Ideas, which abide there still  
With such transporting joy, that I can weep  
To think of what I had, and could not keep.   

On a Dream of Hell.  
STart not, my Soul, 'tis but a Dream, to show  
The dismal Terrors of eternal Woe,  
Which unrepenting Sinners feel below:  
Where Satan with his cursed crew do dwell,  
For their Ambition tumbled down to Hell;  
While we rejoice on the Divine Presence  
Of our exalted Bliss, by Penitence.  
Those fiery Streams, we seem to see,  
May give us joy to find that we are free  
From that sad Doom, where Torments never cease,  
But rather to Eternity increase:  
While our Conversion doth aloud proclaim,  
What mighty Honour due to God's great Name;  
Who will, in Mercy, save a Reprobate,  
If his Repentance do not come too late?   

On Death.  
'TIs very strange the World should still comply,  
To think that Death is sent to make us die,  
By leading us to Immortality:  
And the same moment does our sonls' convoy  
From worldly slavery to eternal joy.  
So that we ought to find some other Name  
For God's great Messenger, that bears our blame  
Alone, tho' Life and Death are both the same  
Moment our eternal Lot, to end this strife,  
We may treat Death as our first step to Life:  
No terror find by our remove from hence,  
When all our Happiness proceeds from thence.   

The POSTSCRIPT.  
IF Heaven be what we read, or hear and see, or do believe to be the glorious Habitation of the more glorious Trinity, that we pretend to love, to obey, to trust, worship and adore, as one united God, who has created Heaven and Earth, the Sea, and all therein; and from whom we do expect eternal happiness, when our Souls expire. How can we justify this Creed, if in our actions we daily do transgress what we so daily do profess, as if our present moments did afford us more concern, to pamper fading Flesh for being Worms meat in the Grave, above the nourishing of our Souls with heavenly Manna, to endure unto eternity.  
If this be Gospel-Truth (as I think it is) I cannot choose but wish and pray, that my Retirement may produce the like Effects in others, by reading what I write, to obtain the high Felicity I privately enjoy, transcending all the glistering Vanities that I have seen, and too largely sharedin; but now know no Felicity in this World, to be compared unto the Joy of living ever ready to go out of it, which is not so easily done, as said, though we endeavour all we can.  
Now, Reader, I have nothing else to say;  
But wish thee Grace to meditate and pray,  
Which will high joys create, and teach thee why  
True Piety will never fear to die,  
When armed with such Divine Philosophy.  
FINIS.    

ADDENDA.  

On our cold desire to go to Heaven.  
WE seem to prize the other World 'bove this;  
But fear to go to that undoubted Bliss.  
We find few Men, who would with Enoch fly,  
From hence to Heaven, (that dare soar so high!)  
Or with Elijah, would take like delight,  
To mount his Fiery Chariot, in his flight.  
Our Faith, for such Celestial Joy, comes short  
Of our Fruitions here; where our Support  
Is what we see, and what we understand;  
Which we prefer, before God's best command.  
Tho' Reason, and Religion, both agree  
To bring us to a blessed Eternity;  
In the same moment, we are raised from hence,  
Through Faith, by God's Divinest Influence:  
Which only can Immortal Life Create  
By Death, destroying this our Mortal Fate.  
So that, till we with God's Decree comply,  
We do not truly Live, until we die.   

To a Friend in a fit of the Gout.  
WElcome thy pain, my Friend; this Gout is sent  
In Mercy to forewarn, and to prevent  
Thy Gluttonies', and Epicurean Crimes,  
Which were unpractised in our father's times.  
This is the effect of strong Falernian Wine,  
And pride, to wash thy Feet in Muscadine;  
By eating Mushrooms stewed with ambergris,  
And the fat Livers of the Jews fed Geese,  
With peacock's Eggs in gravy, to support  
Thy Luxuries, and now thou'rt punished for't.   

On the Fear of Death.  
'TIS strange, that all Mankind should be afraid  
To Die! nor any arguments persuade  
Wise Men, from the terror of a Name;  
Death is God's Messenger, and we to blame,  
To antedate his Arrant, with such fear,  
As doubts to go with Him, we know not where  
Tho' Death's power, only can our Souls convey  
To Heaven; if we God's Holy Laws Obey.  
But we still struggle with undaunted strife  
To keep our dying Bodies, from true Life.  
For want of Faith, lest Death should by mistake  
Lead our sad Souls to the Infernal Lake;  
When such gross misdoubting Grace, only can  
Force Death to fright a misbelieving Man:  
Which shows the Glory of our future State,  
Is left to our own Option; not to Fate.   

On true Devotion.  
WHen true Devotion is our chief delight,  
We may presume, 'tis pleasing in God's sight,  
And to our Souls; will sacred Bliss reveal,  
To fix and to eternalise our Zeal;  
And while we live, our blessed thoughts direct,  
To the seraphic Joys of God's Elect.  
And will by our Adoption when we die,  
Declare the glory of that dignity.   

On God's wondrous Works.  

WHen we consider God's Word and Deed,  
And see the products of the smallest Seed,  
It doth our wonder greatly antedate  
With joy, and in our hearts fixed Faith create,  
It doth all doubtful thoughts, with truth confute,  
When fancy guides our Fingers on the Lute.  
But yet these petty arguments of sense,  
Must all submit to God's Omnipotence,  
In wonders of a higher nature shown!  
Which all the Christian World admires, and own.   

But know not how the boisterous Sea or Land  
Do steady stand; (by God's Supreme Command.)  
Who has the Sun and Moon so firmly set,  
With Stars, in their fixed Spheres, that no Man yet,  
Can by his Industry or Art declare,  
How high or what circumference they are,  
And yet the Seat of God's Celestial Bliss,  
Is still to be admired! above all this  
Where God himself, enthroned is pleased to dwell,  
Which must in Glory, all the rest excel.   

Tho' these be wonders of a large extent,  
There be some of much more wonderment!  
That God should all Offences here forgive,  
And grant us daily comforts while we live.  
By our Souls washing in the Crimson Flood,  
Of our blessed saviour's Sacramental Blood,  
By which he does our Claim to Heaven advance,  
When we approach in a seraphic Trance;  
And own his Mercies with entire delight,  
To glory in his bright beatic sight.   

The more we think, the more we wonder! and  
The less of Miracles we understand;  
Why the same Earth, should every year produce  
Such various Fruits and Herbs, for human use;  
If Faith and Gratitude did not combine,  
To think such Meditations are Divine.  
When God with secret Bliss, such joys imparts  
As does create true Zeal in pious hearts;  
And doth their Souls, with flaming Love invite  
To Paradise; ineffable to write;  
Unless his Holy Spirit should indite.    

To my Old Sick Friend.  
MY good Old Friend, why so sad? does thy Age decline so fast? that the Idea of thy Grave frights thee with fear to die. Are we not all dying? and none knows who shall go next, nor how soon be gone; if this occasion thy dismay, I will teach thee an Antidote that will dispel the poison of that Serpent's bite, and turn that universal curse of Death, into a State of Bliss; if thou canst raise thy dejected Spirit to a quick sense of snaring the Eternal Joys of Heaven, with those departed Saints, who by Faith, Prayer, and Penitence, are now exalted thither.  
Let thy melancholy Meditations and Preparations for the Grave, be changed from a Gaol delivery; into a constant, cheerful, zealous Conversation, in thy Divine Retirements, with God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; by a total Resignation of thy Soul, and all thy concerns unto them; and think with pleasure how near thou art arrived to thy Journeys end, to be with them in Paradise. Then such Celestial Thoughts will be thy most pleasant entertainment, and surely meet with surprising joy from Faith in Christ's plenteous Redemption; which will beget a hearty, speedy welcome unto Death's arrival, who comes to conduct thee to Eternal Bliss; and thou wilt also find, that every devout step towards this felicity of thy approaching Salvation; will make thy heart dance with a saintlike delight, to baffle the terrors of the Grave; with a serene prospect of thy Eternal Happiness at hand; and so make thy last hours full of Angelical transporting joy to be with God, the moment thy Soul expires; fix thy heart thus, and all sad Thoughts will vanish, when a sincere Faith becomes predominant.  
Thy Heart by practice, will delight in this Divine Elixir of Eternal Bliss.   

On vain Projectors.  
NO mortal Man can limit or restrain,  
The boundless fancies of another's brain;  
But may such Fetters on his own Thoughts lay,  
As will keep them from wandering much astray;  
But naturally, Men add wings to try,  
How high their vain ambitious Hearts can fly,  
Until like Icarus, their waxen wings  
Do melt, and all their hopes to ruin brings.  
But when our Souls do with Angellick Love  
Soar high; they will Celest'al joys improve  
To flaming Zeal, and raise our hearts so high;  
As will discern our Immortality.   

To my Rich Friend become Poor.  
TEll me, Old Friend, and speak the truth,  
If twenty Dishes in thy Youth,  
Did then more please, and gratify  
Thy Stomach with that Gluttony,  
Which did Diseases daily breed;  
Till now thou dost on one Dish feed.  
Tell me if now thy constant health  
Gives not more joys than thy lost Wealth  
Afforded; by thy vast excess,  
In frequent Treats and Wantonness;  
Which made a noise, more than content,  
For all thy charge and time misspent.  
When to the Poor, half that expense,  
Would have procured God's Providence;  
And saved the loss of thy Estate,  
Which thou hast thought upon too late;  
Tho' now thou dost aloud profess,  
Thy Poverty proves Blessedness.   

On Injustice.  
IF Charity to Men, be God's Command?  
Justice, must in much higher favour stand;  
If neither can in wicked Men find place;  
They slight God's Anger, and despise his Grace.  
But these are petty Crimes, when Avarice  
Doth harden hearts for gold; and Souls entice,  
To sell Salvation at so cheap a Rate;  
Such villainous intentions aggravate.  
When a designed premeditated cheat,  
With a boldfaced fraud, shall just Right defeat,  
And a false Cause by power shall justify;  
Hell only can reward such Infamy;  
For God with indignation does declare,  
He will Poor mens' Oppressors never spare.   

Against Momentary Joys.  
NOW let my Friend, from sighs and sorrow cease,  
For Crimes repented; let thy joy increase,  
For thy serene assurance, lately gained,  
Of pardon, by thy Saviour's Blood obtained;  
Let thoughts of thy Eternal Glory rise,  
And scorn all Earthly baubles that surprise  
Unsteady Souls, with present fading toys  
That cloud the brighter Beams of heavenly joys.  
And boldly do those glistering bubbles try,  
In hope they'll last unto Eternity.  
Who raise their idle fancies, by their wit,  
To practise Atheism, rather than submit  
To part with present Moments of delight,  
To purchase heaven, with God's beatic sight;  
Who with his known Decrees, will not comply,  
But think to live, till they are pleased to die.  
Tho of such Men, it may be truly said,  
They are that moment, both alive and dead.   

The Terror of Death, by Death is cured.  
IF Death were not for Sin from Heaven sent;  
It could not be esteemed a punishment;  
To be delivered from our daily woe,  
While'twixt our Roses, Thorns, and Thistles grow,  
So that our care should be, to weed our hearts  
From foul excrescents, by such holy Arts,  
As will that fatal sting of Sin destroy,  
And so convert our sorrows into joy;  
When we the Pangs of such a Death endure,  
As doth produce both Punishment, and Cure.   

To my Old Friend on his birthday.  
MY Friend, thou dost well to celebrate thy birthday, as a vowed Sacrifice to God; because he did reserve the first born to himself of Living Creatures, and thou art one; But let not thy Altar be adorned with a superfluous Treat, with too many flagons of rich Wine, and Tables thronged with Wealthy Guests, as if it were a Bacchanalian Feast: But such a moderate Meal for thy own Servants, with some Poor Neighbours, that may soberly rejoice to see a New Year begin, with a propitious prospect of thy ensuing happiness; and pray thy Piety and charity may Shine round about thy Habitation here on Earth, until thou art advanced to Heaven.   

Death is the Beggars highest Holiday.  
'tIS but a faint Felicity, that any Man can have in all the Honours, Treasures, and Pleasures of this World, without a joyful inward assurance of his Salvation; when the next moment, an angry Neighbour, or a Tyrant Prince, can end his days: Or Sickness by tormenting pains turn all his joy into sorrow while he lives; with despairing terrors worse than all, at the approach of Death; when a poor pious Beggar, will die transported full of Celestial Joys for his highest Holiday, and be as welcome into Heaven, as the greatest Monarch.  
And therefore may be well and truly said,  
Both Souls are of the same fine Substance made.   

To my merry Friend.  
WHY now so joyful my good Friend? has thy Prince's smiles this Morning added new feathers to thy Heart? that makes it fly so high. His frowns to morrow may turn those gay feathers into Lead; tho' thou deserve not such a change: Consider now such frequent sad Fates, as do befall the craftiest Men, that only trust in mortal accidents for their support in Princes favours; and raise thy soul's delight in Service of the King of Kings, whose favours will endure unto Eternity, above the reach of Earthly Storms; and than thy Prince's favours will have a sure foundation to subsist on, with higher joys than any Sycophants black Arts, by Malice or by Envy can disturb thy Peace, or Pleasures; when a good Conscience is so centred, and so fixed on God. For no Man can imagine, the constant felicity, of a strict pious Life, in all conditions; but he that is so reconciled with a lively Faith to God, as cheerfully to part with all the glistering Bubbles of this World, to enjoy everlasting Bliss in Heaven, which ought to be the supreme hope of our best endeavours.   

On the fear of Death.  
THO Men by nature Born to fear, to Die  
May still account it a great misery,  
When Piety and Prayer can't prevail,  
To change the power of that severe entail;  
Tho' all our Hearts, and Souls do still agree,  
To frame our Minds to God's most blessed Decree;  
Because no other means, (like that the best)  
To bring Mankind to his Eternal Rest.  
Yet our weak Faith cannot the credit gain,  
By Heavenly joys, and glory to obtain,  
Such Courage and a Valour so Divine,  
Rather to Die with joy, than to repine  
To part with fading pleasures; that no Age  
Can for one moments certain time engage,  
They shall abide; nor can find any cure,  
That Men on Earth, for ever shall endure.  
How great a shame and folly then, that we  
Should fear to go, where we desire to be  
And so prefer our miseries on Earth,  
Before a blessed and glorious cheerful Death;  
That will in gratitude the surest way,  
Our Souls to God in Paradise convey;  
When Faith, with such a Zeal shall so comply,  
'Twill show a Godly Gallantry to Die.   

On the Art of Meditation.  

WHO will the Art of meditation learn,  
Must make each Paragraph his chief concern▪  
For some few moments to consider on,  
Lest reading more create confusion;  
And unavoidably disturb the Brain,  
With more at once, than what it can retain;  
When Piety by Art is thus refined,  
It will rejoice the heart, enrich the mind  
With sacred Thoughts; beyond all Earthly care;  
Till flesh be turned into angelic Air.   

All Men should live as ever in God's sight,  
And make Devotion their supreme delight.  
And then observe, how God does Grace return,  
To make seraphic Joy the brighter burn.    
FINIS.