CLARICILLA, A tragicomedy, The Scene SICILY.  
Written by THOMAS KILLIGREW, IN ROME.  
DEDICATED To His Dear SISTER THE Lady SHANNON.  
LONDON: Printed by J. M. for Andrew Crook, at the Sign of the Green Dragon in St Paul's Churchyard. 1663.   


The Names of the Actors:  
The King of Sicily.  
Appius, the Prince of Calabria.  
Melintus, A Lover of Claricilla. and Philemon, both Sons to the king's Brother.  
Timillus, Friend to Melintus.  
Silvander, the Usurper, in love with Claricilla.  
Manlius, and Tullius, Two Pirates disguised, of Silvander's party.  
Seleucus, a Lord, and Favourite to the King, in love with Claricilla.  
Carillus, his Friend.  
Ravack, a Slave, but a great man of Sicily.  
Jacomo, Servant to Melintus.  
Claricilla, the Princess.  
Olinda, her Maid.  
Attendants.    

CLARICILLA, A tragicomedy,  

ACT. I. SCEN. I.  Enter King, Appius, Seleucus, and Attendants. King. 
SEleucus, you know the soul of our Design lies in the speedy and silent execution of the Plot; let us not then presume in their security till we fall in our own; but go, and when they have begirt the place give us notice, that with our Charge they may at once fear and feel their danger, and by us be clothed in Ruin ere they know whose Livery they wear— This, if Fortune be kind, Exit Seleuc. must be; for where Justice and she strike in what corner of the Earth can Victory hide herself, and that youthful hand not find her?  [Turning to Appius. Appius. 
I should blush at this, if there needed more Arguments to confirm I shall be victorious than the reward proposed; for had the Gods intended the far-famed Claricilla's Virtues a Reward for Treason they would not then have left her Virtue such a Guard, whose power hath stood amongst Traitors when yours fell upon the faith that bore it.  King. 
You oblige me, Sir, and this goodness makes me beg you would be pleased to let me once again call to your memory some particulars of that tedious story which so often in my miseries I recounted to your Highness: This Traitor Silvander having by my love gained an interest, and by my smiles climbed o'er the Heads of all his Fellows in the strength of that trust grew too powerful for me, and in a Battle (where my cause only struck) our Forces being not half the traitor's number we lost the day, to which Theft, not Conquest, was joined the Murder of my Brother and loss both of my Crown and Daughter.  Appius. 
That fault the Gods will punish; but his usurpation of the Princess, and intended Rape which in a forced Marriage he labours, are those that blow my rage.  King. 
'Tis true, it has always been his aim, but his Love, by Heaven appointed for his punishment and our Guard, has given her a constant power over him, which we have so directed that she has prevailed with him to quit his greatest strength, and retreat with her to this private Villa, where now he remains attended only with some few Troops of Horse: This opportunity we owe her piety, that has put it in our power to strike for our Revenge and Right again.  Enter Seleucus. Seleuc. 
Arm, Sir, and behold how in the obedience to your commands they are lost; Ruin in silence like Growth steals upon them; theyare now impaled, and destruction hovers yet undiscovered to the Prey; but defer not, for Night makes haste away, and the Cause hath such a Glory cast about the Soldier that it forceth Day, and Victory in their resolution waits but your Command to send her forth.  King. 
Sir, pray be pleased to give these lost men their Dooms; the Signal's yours.  Appius. 
'Tis an Honour, and I accept it— And thus I give it, Follow me. He draws his Sword.  [Exit Appius. King. 
And that Soldier that refuses such a Signal, let his weighty fears sink him where he stands. Come, Seleucus. Exit King.  Seleuc. 
Come, Seleucus had not wont to be the Word upon a Charge; O Love, thy power hath disarmed me, or rather Envy hath disarmed my Love; could it be else that I should stand thus unspirited in Claricilla's cause, while others gild their Swords in her revenge? it could not be— Hark, how eagerly they pursue my A Charge within .misery; cruel Honour too puts in, and tells me, I lose my interest in her, unless by giving wounds I pull on mine own by making way for this Prince's hopes.  [Exit.  

ACT. I. SCEN. II.  Enter Melintus, Timillus, and Jacomo. Melintus. 
COme, Timillus, let us haste to the Charge, lest our Friends believe Fear declined our Peace; and we are early enough, if we succeed, to let them see we have brought the wishes of Friends.  Tim. 
Faith, if we do not succeed we shall find we came too soon, I am sure I shall; In an overthrow I am certain to get my share; when I live to want an Enemy my Friends shall knock me o'th' head; for I thank my Fates, Fortune has been as bountiful of her mischiefs to me as an Enemy could wish, and that's but a hard condition, you'll say, for a man that cannot ask rewards when he does well.  Melint. 
Mention not that here where reward grows within thy reach in every daring forehead; and if Timillus dares not gather them he must go without 'em; jests brings none of the sword's harvest home.  Timil. 
You are ever thus snappish till I am angry, and then I fight to my own ruin not mine enemies; one would think you might allow a man his humour, and not be forced to fight your quarrel, but he must fight your way too.  Melin. 
Prithee no more, leave this discourse and follow me.  [Exit Melintus. Timil. 
And what wilt thou do, Jacomo?  Jac. 
Who I? I'll follow my Master.  Timil. 
No prithee, let us be friends, choose some other place, for I'm resolved to keep that myself till I am beaten from it.  Jac. 
You're merry, Sir, but I have seen them clawed ere now that have taken it; but I hope you'll find better fortune.  Timil. 
A pox of Fortune, she has no such thing as good or bad belongs to her; follow me and if we gain the day I'll give her thee.  [Exeunt.  

ACT. I. SCEN. III.  Enter Claricilla and Olinda. Olinda. 
FLy, Madam, and leave 'em, for these enemies bring our freedom.  Clar. 
Be constant heaven.  [Exeunt. Enter Silvander wounded, and sees Claricilla fly to his enemies. Silvand. 
What, ho Claricilla, gentle Claricilla, dost thou fly me too? nay then I'm lost indeed; thou might'st have had mercy, though no love, and preserved me for thine own sake; for in this fall of mine thou hast a hand in ruining thine own Temple; nor canst thou after this ingratitude be termed the just, however the fair Claricilla.— No, since Claricilla's cruel I will not stir a foot that Within, fly, fly .leads from danger, nor vainly attempt to escape the hand of heaven, unless I could hide me from his eye too.— What art thou that wear'st such death about thee, and look'st as if thou cam'st to Enter Melintus wounded. put off thy habit here?  Melin. 
'Tis not you I look for,— 'Tis something that shot He saw Claricilla in her flight. from heaven before me; she appeared like innocence herself, striking in her own cause; saw you not that star, did she not in her descent pass this way?— He minds me not.  [Melint. offers to go away. Silvand. 
'Tis so; this youth but saw her, and he's overcome.— Stay, whate'er thou art, that once again I may see thy face, and read the story which Love and Anger appears so mingled in.— Now, By all our gods, 'tis nobly writ; and had I met it when I commanded fortune, I would have studied thee, and by obligations have grafted thee my friend; but since that power is gone, by this— and my name, I command thee be my Priest, know Silvander the unfortunate calls thee back. He draws his sword.  Melin. 
Silvander! Oh ye gods! what power ye give to treason? Aside .that name hath dispersed the cloud that passion threw betwixt him and the revenge a Father's murder called— Unfortunate as wicked; what fate ruled thee thus to call me back!  Silv. 
Prithee youth, no noise; I was a traitor, but true to Love. A King, and yet his power commanded me; and could my love to Claricilla have consented to have worn such a Jewel in less than a Crown, or been satisfied to have seen her whom I preferred before the gods stand second to any; thou in all thy wounds and faith which thus adorn thee, shouldst not have outshined me this day in loyalty.  Melin. 
Love and Treason mixed! know, though thou hast proved thyself a cunning Chemist in attempting to destroy that noble body; yet I have that here shall in spite of all thy adulterate mixtures restore and fix it: Guard thee.  Silvand. 
Prithee threaten not, for though I prophesy thou bring'st my winding-sheet, yet thou shalt see my smiles in scorns wreathe it about me; and yet I mean not to fall unlike a Soldier, nor be buried without my Rights about me, my sword upon my breast thus: and therefore guard thee. He draws his sword.  Melin. 
Guard me! 'tis the office of the gods.— To kill thee is to do the execution, and the way as safe as that the Ministers of Justice tread: and were it as noble as just, I would command thee hold thy neck out; but I scorn such ways to my revenge; and therefore take an equal trial.— Yield, and your Person's safe; for 'twas against your cause, not you, I drew my sword, which scorns They fight .to strike even Silvander upon the ground.  [Silvander wounded. Silvand. 
Hold, and ere this darkness hath quite shadowed me, hear my story; that as thou hast punished my treason, thou may'st pity my misfortune: and thus (when I am gone) report of me, Silvander bowed to a cruel power, who when he had offered all that a lover's thought could compass, and the power of a King worn only to serve in when that power lessened, and my offerings came to be in the heart, not hand, the way to his mercy was shut, and my prayers because unperfumed unheard, and I the offerer thus made the sacrifice: Oh gentle youth, would any bow to such a power as flies us in our miseries, or worship that image which thus falls upon her Priest.  [He dies. Melin. 
Unfortunate indeed, as all men are that build upon faults; but I will not say I pity thee; for where a King once grew to sow pity is the worst of changes.  [Exit. Enter Appius and Seleucus. Seleu. 
This way he went, Sir, if he be mortal; but his stay's so short that we but seem to follow in the tract he makes.  Appius. 
Let us lose no time then in overtaking him, that we may assist his work.  Seleu. 
I will not fight a foot farther that way; if there be no enemies backwards, I'll make some; 'Sdeath, I'll not take Mars his leavings in the field.  Appius. 
Come Seleucus, turn this fire the right way, and 'twill light thee to find out honour.  Seleu. 
It has done't; but today she's so busy in obeying one man's fortune that my wounds are not currant pay to purchase her.  Appius. 
We're sure he's this way, for here's his mark; where ere he goes he makes death his character; know you this that bears it?  Seleu. 
Know him? yes, this stroke killed not a traitor, but treason itself fell here: this is Silvander, and he's gone.— Envy, be not prophetic; his aims beyond a Crown: it must be Claricilla then, ye gods! whither else tends this youth's flight, or what but she will satisfy; when a King cannot make his quarry! this doubt makes me pursue him, though to a dangerous knowledge.  [Exeunt.  

ACT. I. SCEN. IV.  Enter Claricilla, Melintus following her. Clar. 
SUre this stranger knows me not; he pursues me as if I were part of the enemy.  Melin. 
O stay; for know, since I have once again seen my fate I'll read it whate'er it be, 'tis written in so fair a book.— See, unconfident of my arms I beg your stay; he begs that dealt death as He kneels .oft as wounds to his opposers in your pursuit; your fears wrong me; he that dares fight with men will not war with beauty; and this sword that hath cut through so many fates, this day, to find mine own, tremble not at it, for it hath ever been the servant of justice, not cruelty.  Clar. 
Sir, I know not guilt enough to beget a fear; yet if you mean me no harm, why do you pursue me, and neglect the advantage Fortune throws upon your daring youth? have you such choice of honours you scorn to stoop for this you have ventured so far for? what dress would you wear? what beauties would your youth put on to make it lovely, when those wounds a Crown and conquest cannot satisfy? when your heart thinks these no harvest, where would your sword sow your hazards to reap one more glorious?  Melin. 
Fair soul go on; and whilst you blame the effect, I'll read, the cause, and thus look upon the conquest; Crown and reward I struck for, and if ever I have triumph it must pass through those Arches in gentle smiles; and whilst I enjoy this happiness, let the Crown and Victory pass by as the lesser good. Nor would I give this sight to possess the blessings that attend them both.  Clar. 
Heaven grant this fruit be from a noble stock, and yet 'tis safer 'twere not; for I fear I am not proof against such virtues; 'twas the dress my Melintus wore when he appeared most comely (nor need I doubt him) for never honour grew where 'twas not sowed; Sir, you forget your wounds, they exact a care.  Melin. 
No, fair one; I am now pouring Balm into them; and could I hope you would afford this way of cure, it would be one health not to be healed.— Why do you turn away, and let my truths fall ere they reach your ears? is it your fears that would remove She turns from him .you? let this truth secure you; though I appear in this bloody dress, more like a Priest, yet know I am a sacrifice, and that sacrifice which once was acceptable to you.  Clar. 
Sure I have heard that voice.— Sir, for heaven's sake, wound me not with doubt, but tell me who you are.  Melin. 
Are there no lines in all this misery that you can call to mind?— Nor the print of one joy left which you set there.  [He pulls a patch from his eyes, she leans on him and weeps. Clar. 
Oh yes! there is.  Melin. 
O Claricilla!— Soul of honour, why do you not in charity quit your virtue, 'tis single here, that I may throw off my pain.  Clar. 
O Melintus, you must not wish it; Melintus can bravely suffer, he's a Soldier, Loves Soldier, but honour's Leader; let me weep my soul into thy noble breast; this payment I can make to none but to thyself; those tears that were due to absence sadness paid thy memory; Oh let me rest upon thee, my joys are too great a load to bear; and feel how the Melintus here beats to meet Melintus there.  Melin. 
Oh ye gods, 'tis Paradise sure; the way was so rugged that lead to it.  Clar. 
'Tis a great power we serve; nor is it more seen in his punishment that parted us, then in this reward; but let us not, my soul, unhandsomely, or saucily, express our joys; it may displease those powers that have been thus favourable; and my Melintus had not wont to sacrifice to himself and forget the gods.  [She offers to go from him. Melin. 
Oh gentle Claricilla, remove not from me; for you mistake the posture, the breast is love's Altar, and the seat of friendship; and for sacrifice, is not Claricilla a fuller offering in either kind than a Cake or Spice? but I submit, for Melintus shall never know a reason that contradicts Claricilla.  Clar. 
Yet let us remember what we owe to your safety; your wounds too (but that I know Melintus ever placed dangers behind his Love) I should ere this have prompted you to a care of.  Melin. 
For my wounds, the cause will heal 'em; to me you owe nothing for your deliverance; your freedom grew here, and your enemies mistaking the place, in search of my dangers, digged it out; and you shall find this truth in the beauty of the scars they leave. Oh Claricilla, thy faith makes me smile through all this blood; but hark, I fear we are pursued; this upon your fair hand, and then let me hide my love and name under my disguise. He puts on his patch.  Clar. 
Good night, Melintus; for thou hast now put out the light, and like Love himself thou art blind, and thou art all I worship of that god.  [Enter Appius and Seleucus. Seleu. 
See where the Eagle stands, my fears were true; the Princess in his hand too, he holds her like his prey in the foot.— He takes her from him .Sir, though you fought well, this Lady will not prove your reward, she cannot be a prisoner here, Sir.  Melin. 
What I did well was rewarded in the act; and for this Lady I am so far from hoping she should be my prisoner, that I would have suffered all the miseries of war ere struck one blow against her freedom.  [Seleucus turns slightly from Melintus. Seleu. 
Here is a Prince whose youthful fire blown with desire to serve your Highness has through thousand dangers, this day, courted your favour, and in his hand you'll seem more aptly worn.  Appius. 
Madam, though his friendship seem to direct, your highness has an interest that commands here; and 'tis honour enough if you please to let me kiss your hand.  Clar. 
Sir, civilities are always fruitful, and beget civilities, if they meet with honour; which I hope shall not be wanting to give a a growth to what you venture here.  Melin. 
Madam, I see 'tis not my opinion only, but this Lords too, that I am unworthy of this honour.  Clar. 
If it be an honour, Sir, wear it; you first secured it. She gives him her hand again.  Seleu. 
Will you make your hand the reward of Fortune then, and scatter your favours so that they may be had for stooping? is that an honour due to the first comer? if so, I grudge it not, for such favours and upon such ties he may wear; else I should be loath to stoop to her that bows to him.  Clar. 
You are insolent.  Melin. 
Thus, Madam, be pleased to accept your due, and then give me leave to exact mine.— Sir, let not your interest here He turns to Seleucus .and the opinion you have but a single enemy, make you presume to injure me, nor so mistake my bounty as to think I have thrown my blood away in vanity; for though I set no price upon my wounds, and contract not for killing of a Traitor, yet I can tell whether I am bid fair or no when I have done't; and 'tis nobler far to give a courtesy then sell it under.— Do you smile? it may be Seleucus' smiles and turns. you have had good markets, and such weak chapmen for those few good deeds you have done.  Seleu. 
Yes, but if thou wert from this place I would make thee pay dear for one which should on thy heart write, Thou wert but my factor; and all the honour thou art thus proud of but my store.  Melin. 
You promise to yourself too fair; and noises fright only when we are ignorant of the cause, and there's too much in thee to have a dangerous depth.  [Seleucus offers to strike. Appius. 
Hold, Seleucus,— Sir, when you know his good, you will pardon this ill, nor do I conceive it an injury to show by his envy what value he sets upon your glories; and I make no doubt when his reason hath purged this choler from his honour, you'll find him a healthy friend, and his acquaintance not subject to these sickly passions; if he does, as of a surety, command my faith to make this good.  Melin 
Sir, I can easier bear injuries that I deserve not, then receive obligations that I cannot pay; for injuries have a cure growing within my reach; but obligations I must suffer under their weight, if you propose not the remedy too.  Appius. 
Come embrace; Seleucus had not wont to hate the person of an enemy, much less fall in love with injuries; especially when jealoous honeour begets them upon mistakes among friends.  They embrace coldly. Seleu 
Love and Honour, farewell to both; my ends are the gods I'll worship now; and my Net once thrown, I'll catch 'em though they swim in blood.  Enter King and attendants. Clar 
See my royal Father; and I have reaped my belssings ere I have paid my sacrifice: thus, Sir, to the gods I bow, in pious obedience here to you.  King 
Welcome, dear Claricilla, rise, twice born to a Crown, twice parent and twice the issue of my joys; live and enjoy all the blessings that my prayers and sacrifice can call down upon thee; and you, Sir, to whom we stand thus obliged for unmerited favours, since you have left no other waty to return them, take the blushes you have begot; and be pleased to let us know your name and Country, that our grateful mentions may not fall like darts thrown at nothing: Sure 'tis a happy one that hath such store of virtues, that she can spare from her helm such a Pilot in the course of honour.  Melin 
Your pardon, royal Sir, for disobeying your command; my Country I dare not tell; for as my Parent, I would hide her faults; and my name is, where 'tis known, so displeasing that I dare not venture it here where I would remain an humble servant.  King 
Come, my Claricilla, let us not forget the heart to sacrifice unto the hand; thus acknowledging the means, and forget the power that commands them; but remember that the gods, though they ofttimes are seen but in the success and latter end of things, yet their place is first, and aught ot be so in our worship.  Melin 
In the morning I shall beg leave to visit your Highness.  Clar 
I hope so.  Exeunt King, Claricilla, and attendants. Melin 
Sure I have suprized my joys; they had not wont to come thus naked, thus like Angels, whose clothing is all we see the rest a mystery.—- My friend, pardon, when I forget myself, if thou appear'st lost in my joys.  Seleu 
He's alone, and something I'll do,— But stay, who's this?  Timil 
Prithee call thy bird back again, for mine is flown, that we may have something to trust to; this is the comfort of a Comrade, a man may go halfs, and be both saviours.  Melin 
Thou art wounded.  Timil 
Why, do you wonder I should get a wound? I wonder I got no more; I am sure I have been where fewer have been dealt ere now, and yet more has fallen to my share; but, by this hand, I am glad thou got some of Fortune's goods, as they call 'em, by this wrack; I had a smock too, but it tore in taking up; what are those that stand so at distance, are they enemies or no?  Mel 
Where?-— O no.  Seleucus gazes in a corner upon them. Tim 
Why then are they worse, for they are friends that will be enemies.  Mel 
They are Enemies to nothing but this days fortune? I prithee what subject is there else for their hate, or wish, but thy wounds? and those are things I believe few court, else on my Conscience one or other would have mine ere this time.  Sel 
I must take some other time  Exit Seleucus Mel 
They are gone.  Tim 
Let 'em go——— And now prithee tell me what was that,——— that she that went in; as thou lov'st me; her not be ransomed till I have hung these Fetteres about her for a night; By this hand we'll share.  Mel 
Dost thou know what thou hast said?  Tim 
Know what I have said? No, nor I don't care; but pray, what I have I said.  Melint 
That thou'lt be ashamed of, when thou know'st of whom.  Tim 
Why? I have not lied Melinutus; and for the Who in woman 'tis a thing I look not after; when my eye is pleased the Sex blesses all the rest; the Who and What belong to those Fool's inquiry that hunt Marriage.  Mel 
Come thou'lt be ashamed when thou shalt know; This is that Princess Claricilla that though hast heard from me in tears so often mention; that the virtue which thou so admired'st from my relation, whose noble sweetness has made kindred and duty to my King the least ties of love and respect I bear her.  Tim 
She is honest then——— and no hope left: By this hand I'll be o'ercome hereafter and get more by it than such a Conquest, where a Mangets nothing but cold Honour: Do your hair Melintus, though she be a Virtue as you call it, yet I hope there's a vice belongs to her.  Mel 
Prithee put off this humour, Repine at the growth of Honour! Sad, because a fair woman's honest!  Tim 
No, Sir; I'm glad she's honest, because it seems honesty pleaseth you; but an honest woman to me is a book I could never read in nor I imagine why we should study them, they're secrets that reach but to one man's knowledge, and the best of 'em are worst; a knowledge whose virtue is ignorance, and I'll not traffic for such Commodities as are not vendible; and by this hand the very thought she should be handsome and honest hath made me dry; Look how white I spit; let me got that I may be drunk and forget the sade cause.  Mel 
Drunk? thou canst not, thou hast a Leak will preserve thee, 'twill pass out there ere it ocme to fuming; you had best look to that.  Tim 
This? what? who Pox, I can stop this with my finger.  Mel. 
Come, prithee leave thy fooling, and let me see't; I hope 'tis not dangerous.  Tim. 
No, no, ne'er fear it; this narrow Lane will ne'er prove my Highway to Heaven.  Mel. 
Prithee come away then, we shall be observed to be so long together.  Tim. 
Hang observers, for I am sure I ne'er had any.  Exeunt.   


ACT. II. SCEN. I.  Enter Manlius, and Tullius. Manlius. 
STrip those Slaves, and to the Bank chain the Cowards; Slavery is no new thing to such as fear: and Tullius, lose the Rhodian on the Starboard bank: Methinks that Fellow looks as if he were unjustly yoked with his misery; in the heat of the sight I saw him shake his Chain like a fierce Dog held from the Chase.  Tul. 
Sir.  Man. 
Urge me no more; Justice as well as Blood has an interest in the Revenge I take; and that makes it healthy, though it may be that which Anger hunts would taste as sweet.  Tul. 
Sir, your pardon; 'tis my ignorance in the cause of your displeasure made me mediate for them.  Enter Philemon. Man. 
And because Tullius shall not think that Manlius would in misery expect the compassion that he would not give you shall Philemon aside Ha! Manlius. know why I refuse these my Countrymen in misery that mercy I found from thee in mine.  Tul. 
Sir, not that I doubt you have one, but the desire to know it, makes me beg you would relate the cause; Tullius can be but faithful when he has heard it, and that I hope is not to be questioned now.  Man. 
Know then, in that day when Treason flew above Justice, and false Silvander enriched by his Master's trust outvied the noble King with his own bounty, who too late found his love had not gained a Friend, but begot a Traitor, 'twas in that day the brave Thisander fell. The interest I had in this fault Heaven, I hope, hath pardoned as well as punished; but to be short, our party having gained the day, the Crown and Beauty that attended it, the fair Claricilla fell into the hands of false Silvander, where her virtues by daily seeing them dispersed the Cloud Ambition had set betwixt my Loyalty and me, and then too late I repented what I had done; yet not willing to despair before I had attempted something, I undertook an act, which if Heaven had smiled on, might have redeemed my forfeit Honour; 'twas to heal the wounds I had made with the blood of the surprised Traitor, whose fall I had decreed in the midst of all his false glories.  Tullius. 
How came it, Justice was so absent in her own cause?  Man. 
His sins it seems were not ripe, nor this punishment that Heaven designed him, which by I hope this is fully paid: But to the particular; one night being in the princess's chamber contriving her escape, which we resolved should be ere I gave the blow, a Guard seized me, and no cause given; I was sent unto my ruin, as he designed, there your gratitude preserved me, I afterwards learned the occasion of my imprisonment; these men whom Fortune now has given into my power urged the lust-burnt Traitor to a Rape upon the Princess, and with a forced Marriage counselled him to confirm his Title, blowing in his eat that there was love betwixt the Princess and me, which if his care removed not would be a hindrance to his designs; from his guilt and jealousy grew that necessity which made me receive the command my better fortunes gave your merit: And now judge whether or no there be a justice in this punishment.  Tul. 
'Tis visible they bow under a weight that justice hath laid upon them, and my Galley is both a Prison and a Sanctuary.  Phil. 
Is this Manlius, and the cause of his disgrace?  [Aside. Man. 
But see the Slave I have sent for, Tullius; Was he bought or taken?  Tul. 
'Tis one of that Ging defended the Rhodian when we lost so many men in fight.  Man. 
I remember the story; but how came it he was left when you sold the rest?  Tul. 
They did not like the price; besides he was dogged, and that made me put him to the Oar.  Man. 
Of what Country art thou, and thy name?  Phil. 
Of no Country,— nor no name, in Chains; Slave is a being— That what has been is of no force against; else my Name and Country are not things to be ashamed of.  Man. 
Yet if you think they have power to gain your freedom you are too blame to keep 'em hid.  Phil. 
I have vowed never to discover either till I have my freedom, and I will not break my vow.  Man. 
Why so dogged in your answer?  Phil. 
Why not? What is there in my fortune that needs fear a worse condition? or what danger in a Slave worth your consideration what he says? If you dare a venture good deed, give me credit for one and set me free.  Man. 
No, no, we must not be forced to a benefit. Tullius, command the Galley to put from shore, and lie loose tonight to be ready if there be occasion offered, we will stay ashore tonight and expect what issue this days trouble hath.  [Exeunt all but Philemon. Phil. 
Yes, I was of the Rhodian Ging, and chief, though you know it not; and had our Seconds been men of souls and not made up of fears, might have played your parts now. To what a miserable condition am I fallen? The last Mart, because I was wounded, nobody would buy me, the soul of a Slave in their esteem not weighing down his limbs: Ye Gods, either send me liberty or take your gifts again: Honour and her Issue, Courage, Justice, Faithfulness, are of no use to me; Who would be judged by a Slave? Courage in Chains, what can it hurt? or to be faithful, of what use when we are not trusted? O my fate! Why was I born free? Had I been bred a Slave I could have sung in Chains; nay, to have perished in them had been dying in my Calling; but to fall from greatness, and without a fault be punished with the guilty! nay, where the guilty scape! False Rhodes! my Curse kindle a fire within thee; the freedom that my soul brought thither threw me into her dangers which their Cowardice had made such certain ruin in their apprehension that not one amongst them had man enough to look upon their fears; I then a God was held, because I durst venture thus to become a Sacrifice.   

ACT. II. SCEN. II.  Enter Seleucus solus. Sel. 
YE Gods, by what ways or marks should men follow what is good? when virtue itself does not always keep one path; when Claricilla who has all I know of virtue shall quit the Godlike attribute of Truth, and the Guard which Innocence secures her from impious men with, and fly for safety to an Excuse? She denied my visit at the price of a , and at that rate of sin bought a stranger's company: Olinda assures me he's at this time with her; but why do I thus without danger's bark against him, and let this Tree without a Root, this  stand in my prospect? It shall not, I will see her; and since she can so put off her Honour, as to lie for one man, who knows but she may lie with two?  Exit.  

ACT. II. SCEN. III.  Enter Melintus, and Claricilla. Mil. 
YOu have now heard all the passages of my life since that sad day we parted to this joyful hour; which if poor Philemon had lived to see, how happy had we three been!  Clar. 
Have you not heard of him since his loss at Rhodes? Do you believe him dead?  Mel. 
My love makes me believe what I fear, for he had many wounds; besides, I know his Ransom would have pleased the Conqueror better than his bonds, for they were Pirates; but no more of this sad subject now.  Clar. 
O Melintus, grow not weary of mentioning a Friend; though it be sad, 'tis just, and let that bear the weight; had Philemon lived to have seen me and Melintus lost, we should have spent our days in your story ere suffered your name to have passed unmentioned. Philemon, to his Friend a Lamb, and in such softness he always wore his lion's heart; Philemon, whose youth had growth with us, a Plant by the same hand set, a flower from our own stock, and all his sweets akin to us; and we ought to be allied to his misfortunes too: but why do I teach Melintus? 'tis boldly done to give Laws to him that is such a Master in the rights of friendship.  [She weeps. Mel. 
To let you see I love Philemon, I do not grudge him that precious dew; and gentle Claricilla, to witness my soul hath one consent with yours, See, I can bear you company in your own Sex.  Clar. 
O ye Gods! he weeps, Melintus weeps; What Agony must this noble Youth feel when his Soul sweats such drops? Pardon me for thus stirring thy grief.  Mel. 
Do not think I left the subject because I was weary of the discourse, or could enough mention Philemon, that durst be my Friend when 'twas certain ruin; and now he's dead I break no trust to tell you the cause was a greater tie than any effect it had. Know, Philemon was in love with Claricilla, and it was with Claricilla and not himself; for when by my trust he found your softness had received impression from my constant love, and you were pleased to call me your Melintus, I became his too; and to serve us in our wishes was all the Heaven he aimed at. And now (my Soul) you must either confess me unworthy, or else grant, such daring courage, and such fearful love as Philemon commanded, could never sink from the soul of Melintus.  Clar. 
Since Melintus hath begun, take my confession too; know I saw it long ago, and decreed rewards of friendship for the noble youth; but when 'twas beyond my power to cure, it had been cruelty to have inquired the pain, and therefore would not see what I pitied. And now you have all the secrets of my heart; those of joy thy friendship multiplies, and those of grief; thus thou dividest the pains.  [Enter Olinda. Mel. 
O lay the whole weight here.  Ol. 
Madam, Seleucus upon earnest business, as he pretends, will see you.  Clar. 
How? will see me? Tell him—  Enter Seleucus and surprises them, Melintus is transported into rage. Seleuc. 
Nothing, Madam, he knows too much already; and though my Anger, which Envy and your Cause begot, was grown to such a destructive height that I could not rule it till it found mine own ruin in your frown, yet a soldier's envy is no sin; nor ought his anger be punished by his friends, when he appears not in love with his fault, nor seeks to justify it. This day I begged leave to crave your pardon for my offence; and your Highness refused my visit, and made an Excuse to admit this— Madam, 'twill be He points in scorn to Melintus .no glory to you that you could withstand the sieges which Silvander and myself laid against you by many services, when it shall be known you were o'ercome by a single one, and yielded at first sight to a stranger.  Clar. 
Seleucus, when I take you for my friend I'll take your counsel, and not till then; for the services you urge they have been always dressed so in commands that they appeared unbecoming.  Sel. 
Madam, you did not look with equal eyes upon them, else their passion would have appeared their greatest beauty; and I never spoke love's language more than when I was least a Poet.  Clar. 
The love of Subjects to their Prince is duty; and those whom we pay we do not thank; the Hireling ought to serve.  Sel. 
Madam, you speak as if I served for bread, and forget that Subjects are Heavens servants; and 'tis the Gods that appoint us Kings, and I am doomed to it. 'Tis that, not want that makes me a Subject, which condition your Highness is not exempt from. But I wonder what mighty Prince this is that thus vouchsafes to hide himself.  Clar. 
This insolence here?  Mel. 
Your pardon, Madam, 'tis my Q. your Sex cannot strike, and 'twas the respect which this place claims made me stand his mark thus long-Now to you who this second time have with scorn looked upon my temper when a calm has hid it. Know in the best of all thy ills, thy love, thou art a Traitor; else thou durst not hope this Princess would be food for servants; and though thy fawning on thy Master's feet hath been cherished so that thou hast left the Crumbs there, and are now set by him, snatching at his own dish.  Sel. 
This to me?  Mel. 
Yes, to thee whose pride hath now but begun its leap, which I prophesy will end at his throat; nor are such Dogs strange in this state. Remember yesterday, when one of that hated breed fell unpitied.  Sel. 
Sure you take me for a Coward, you durst not urge me thus else.  Mel. 
No, Sir, that would secure you; nor do I believe, though you have many faults, coward any of them.  Sel. 
I'll expect you in the garden then.  [Exit Seleucus. Mel. 
I'll follow you— Madam, let not this threatened storm fright you; your interest lies in the security of my innocence, which cannot fall here.  Clar. 
O that Melintus would hear my Reasons for what I say ere accuse me for having too much woman in my suit, and then I would tell him he must not fight, at least not now.  Mel. 
Not fight? My honour is concerned.  Clar. 
And my honour is concerned; 'twill look like fighting for me; and I hope, Melintus will not set that at stake against opinion, especially when his courage is so far from being in question, 'tis become a Proverb. Besides, though you conquer you are lost; you see his interest in my Father makes him not look with justice on your merits; and to kill his creature may threaten your own ruin, but these Arguments have their period in fears still; and therefore I'll not urge the reasons they bring, as of force against the danger that honour threatens.  Melin. 
And those that come not so attended are commands to Melintus, who covets only to keep those beauties of his mind, that you may not be put to make excuses for your love.  Clar. 
Then gently thus, let me prevail with you to appoint a farther day, to determine this angry question, whilst I acquaint my Father with his ambitious hopes, which he not dreams are leveled at me, and consequently the Crown; I'll tell him of his insolence now, and at the Battle; then I will urge the late treason, and bid him call to mind the dangers that traitor's hopes threatened, which sprung from this root. I know 'twill startle his soul; and if it fail to ruin him, yet 'twill take the edge o'th' king's faith off from what he says, and with jealous eyes he will look upon his growing greatness; and when he is thus shook, thus parted from the Cedar that shelters him, then let thy justice pour a storm upon his head: And now by the power Melintus hath given me I command him deliver his honour for a time into my protection; this (if I have not appeared too careless of mine own) you cannot deny me.  Melin. 
You have o'ercome me, take my honour which I have preserved through thousand hazards, I freely give it you, and now rest secure I am yours for ever; for my love and honour being gone, what remains is fit for nothing; I will not meet this angry man; his insolence shall have justice on her side; and I will give him cause to scorn me.  Clar. 
Melintus shoots his presents, and then they wound, not oblige; courtesies done unwillingly is throwing the frozen into the fire, where too much heat kills the charity, and proves but altering, not rescuing the danger.  Melin. 
Pardon, Madam, if you find me unversed in the way that leads to dishonour; for though I submit to your reason, yet Seleucus' nor the world (to whom he will barely tell the fault) will know what argument withheld me.  Clar. 
Pray obey me once without dispute; and I hope this cloud is all that is left of many that lowered upon our joys, and we shall see a clear evening yet to crown our wishes. Farewell.  [Exeunt several ways.  

ACT. II. SCEN. IV.  Enter Seleucus. Seleu. 
HEnce Love, and thy pale dew of tears be gone; Revenge and her beauteous purple, 'tis to thee I bow, Love cannot now reach my ends; though at first I stalked with it, 'twas indeed a proper Nurse, and rocked the Cradle while my designs were young; but now they walk alone waited on by my resolutions and confident of my strength; I need not such her milky miracles, to confirm my faith; nor ought the event (though ill) be laid to me; for to dare speaks the great soul, not the success; since Prophets well seen in things to come have been themselves o'ertaken with an unknown doom; but stay, the business now in hand requires my being present here.— Now, Sir, you're something slow in justifying, though quick in doing injuries; sure you Enter Melintu .believe me the dog you called me, you would not have made me wait thus else.  Melin. 
'Tis true, injuries are things I am as slow to justify, as commit; they are commonly the children of choler, and such bastard issue shame the Parents; and if through weakness at any time I get them I hide them if I can with satisfaction.  Seleu. 
Words are too near akin to heal words; your sword hath a more certain cure, and I repair to that, draw.— Do you not understand the word? draw.  [Seleucus draws his sword. Melin. 
First hear me; that I came uninvited, and now am going without taking leave, shows 'twas choice put me upon these hazards, not necessity; and that I dare fight I have it written in my face, here under my enemy's hand, to witness; and such torn Ensigns tell the bearer fled no dangers; let that satisfy 'tis not fear binds my hands, and yet I will not fight.  Seleu. 
'Twas the cause I see gave you fire; and I am ashamed to call that man enemy which I must bid twice draw his sword, which do or I'll kill thee.  Melin. 
I tell thee I will not fight.  Seleu. 
You will not fight? By my life I'll kill thee then.  Melin. 
When I will not fight anybody may do it; but when I will thou canst not; and once again I tell thee I will not fight, nor dar'st thou kill me.  Seleu. 
Not dare? why what hast thou about thee that can protect thee from the justice this brings?  Melin. 
Thou hast that about thee that protects me; and though I hate thee yet I can be just.  Seleu. 
Do me justice with your hand, your tongue has lost his power; draw your sword, 'tis her proper emblem, or, By my anger, thou art lost; nor shall this new kind of coward save thee; Turn, and do not tempt me, or, By him that rules the day, I'll kill thy fame too with a coward's wound in thy back.  Melin. 
Thou dar'st not do it; I know thou wilt not take so little for thine honour; it cost thee too dear to be sold so cheap as to take a naked life, that's undefended, for't; thou seest I am resolved not to fight today; so bound by a resolution that coward could not lose it, therefore in vain thou temptest me.  Seleu. 
Why the devil did you take this resolution against me that long to fight with you?  Melin. 
'Tis but for a time.  Seleu. 
Will you then hereafter?  Melin. 
Yes, by all my hopes; and nothing but this resolution then in thee shall protect one of us.  Seleu. 
Till this fit be over, then, I'll leave you.  [Exit. Melin. 
'Tis strange, having both one business, our way should lie so several, Claricilla, thy commands can put me into any form, that can bow me thus.   

ACT. II. SCEN. V.  Enter Seleucus and Carillus. Seleu. 
WAs the Prince in the garden when you left him?  Car. 
Yes, my Lord; and he had newly parted with the King; he's this morning to make his visit to the Princess; your Lordship is appointed by the King to accompany him.  Seleu. 
You saw not Olinda since?  Car. 
No, my Lord.  Seleu. 
Go find her and tell her of this visit; bid her single herself from the company, tell her I must speak with her this morning— Claricilla will think me very bold, to dare thus soon to press into Ezit Carillus .her presence; but 'tis no matter; her thoughts have now no power to punish me that have set myself free; nor will I again stand in fear of aught but that power which does create cause as well as beget the fear; that power that made Fate to be Fate, and yet his servant; there I will pay all that I have for fear; here to tremble is to fear the Idol I myself have made.  [Exit  

ACT. II. SCEN. VI.  Enter Claricilla, and Olinda following her. Olinda. 
MAdam, the Prince is without attended with Seleucus, and desires to kiss your highness' hand.  Clar. 
Wait him in; this Prince is in report a man of a noble soul, I guess his business, and must with pain impose that which will sound what depth of honour is in him.— He comes. Enter Appius and Seleucus.  Appius. 
Now those clouds which thus long have hid your virtues, and that storm is again blown over; so that your Highness begins to break like yourself among us; Appius is come, though unconfident in the success, labouring with ambitious hopes to beg you will give the services of his life leave to wait upon your happy days.  Clar. 
Ere your Highness proceed be pleased to hear a suit that I must blushing make, and to your own ear only; and if you please to retire with me I shall acquaint you with it.  Appius. 
Command me, Madam.  Seleu. 
Olinda, a word with you.  Olinda. 
This way then.  [Exeunt omnes.   


ACT. III. SCEN. I.  Enter Claricilla and Appius. Clar. 
SIR, 'twas his Counsel, thus, by a trust, to oblige your Highness to be our friend, rather than by injuries (which has been the common way of States) to decline your pretensions.  Appius. 
'Twas charitably done not to let my hopes lead me too much astray; and since 'tis to so gallant a Rival as Melintus, I shall without envy, though not pain, lay down my hopes.  Enter Olinda, overhearing their discourse. Clar. 
He's now in Court, but yet unknown; 'tis the stranger that yesterday made such way to my rescue; at first I fled him that with such love pursued; for his disguise kept me ignorant who it was; within I shall acquaint you with our design, and beg your counsel; and sometime this night I would fain speak with him in the Garden.  Appius. 
I shall not fail to serve you.  [Exit. Olinda. 
The stranger! is he the man, and must you meet him in the Garden this night? this shall to Seleucus; I'm sure of my pay, for I have my reward already.  [Exit.  

ACT. III. SCEN. II.  Enter Seleucus. Seleu. 
I See 'tis neither so easy, nor so safe to be a Villain, as I thought; 'tis true, wicked any fool may be; but to be a Villain and Master in that Art, oh the baseness that we stoop to! the hated means, the loathed subjects that with Chemists patience we must extract our ends through! and when the work's done we have but whet the sword of Justice, and with our own hands pulled down unpitied dooms.— The thought strikes amazement into my soul, which has not yet consented to my ills: What shall not I fall to, that could consent, for the knowledge of a secret, to make myself the steps by which a Whore climbed to her ambitious lust? the baseness of the act hath awaked my sleeping honour; and I'll be honest ere I'll again pay such a rate for sin. No Love, 'it's thy cruelty has begot this distraction in me. He lies down on the ground.  Enter Olinda. Olinda. 
Ha! upon the ground? up, my Seleucus, up, I am yet breathless; my Love in her descent has made such haste that it begot a fire in the motion that had like to have burnt our Cupid's wings.  Seleu. 
What ails thee? is it impudence, or distraction begets this boldness; what is it that thou thus labourest with, has it no name?  Olinda. 
It had a name, and 'twas called a secret whilst but by two known, and Claricilla's secret; but it shall become a general knowledge, I overheard it when she gave it to the Prince, and by this name, the only secret of her soul; she is in love, and by honour engaged, Does that move you? when you know to whom, your love will sacrifice her to your anger: 'Tis the st anger; and but that her bashfulness could not name him aloud, I now might have told you who he was, for she named him, and he is this night to meet her in the Garden; the Prince is of their party too, and has promised to quit his pretention, and only stays to serve her in her love; so there's but I faithful to Seleucus; now, do I rave or no?  Sel. 
No, my Olinda; 'tis I that rave, and beg of one that lives upon another's alms.  Olind. 
Thus would I sacrifice the Gods should they scorn what I love.  Sel. 
Thou art my Goddess.  Olind. 
Will Seleucus then be just, and reward that faith that thus has flown o'er those poisonous Plants, and from them with danger sucked this honey-secret? Will he, I say, be just, and give me leave to unlade this precious Dew in his gentle bosom, and there find my Hive when I return from travelling in his service?  Sel. 
Thou shalt have any thing, but be gone now, 'twill breed suspicion to be seen with me alone: Art certain they are to meet tonight?  Olind. 
Be gone! Seleucus, there was more discretion than love in that Injunction. Urge me not to jealousy; for I that could betray a Mistress and a Friend for love of thee, if injured, I would have thee know, for my revenge my love shall go. But I hope better, and I obey.  [Exit Olinda. Sel. 
This the King shall know— Yield at first blow! 'Tis worshipping a stranger God, and a sin in honour though he were so— But stay, who are these? the Prince and the stranger. He, Enter Appius and Melintus .she says, is of their party; as I could wish, I hope it shall ruin him too.  Mel. 
Be pleased to urge it as a thing you are displeased with, and that the Princess made it her complaint, and desired your Highness would acquaint his Majesty with it; and Sir, when you have completed this work which thus nobly you have begun, and finished your creation, command us and our happiness as the Creatures that owe their being to your favour.  Appius. 
Noble Melintus, when I have served you, 'twill but pay the expectation your early faith gave me credit for.  Mel. 
Look, Seleucus! Sir, I hope his ears have not met our words. Your pardon, Sir. I'll step off ere I am discovered; after I have this night waited on the Princess in the Garden I shall in your Chamber acquaint you with all our proceedings, and there hope to hear how the King entertains the complaint against this great man; 'tis the first step to a Favourite's fall when the Prince will hear complaints of him— I kiss your hand.  [Exit Melintus. Sel. 
This Letter will make me seem not to have seen them; Dissimulation do thou assist me, and I'll break as 'twere from a cloud of thoughts; and chance that threw me into this way— My Lord, the Prince, whither so fast with your spoil? Methinks I see conquest in your eyes. How did the Princess entertain your noble offer? Do you not find the path that leads to her heart untrod by Lovers feet? Were not her Guard of blushes called to defend her against your assault? love's treaties, my Lord, are strangers to her maiden ears.  Appius. 
Against impious men the Sanctuary is no Guard, else the reserved modesty with the privilege of birth and beauty that wait upon the Princess might have defended her against your saucy flames, which too late have aimed at the top of thy Master's house; but that injury was not so great as this, that thou durst think thy Poison would not break her Crystal, but with this injurious hope believe she should conceal thy insolence, which I'll spread.  [Exit Appius. Sel. 
Ha! Is't come to this? either prevent this danger, or thou art lost, Seleucus: The Prince is flying with my ruin to the King; Thanks yet to his choler that thus has armed me. Passion is no deadly Weapon; we hear her noise before she does the execution, and then we arm. Now, my brain, be ready with excuses, thy woman's weapon, to defend me.  [Exit.  

ACT. III. SCEN. III.  Enter King, Appius, and Attendants. King. 
IS it possible?  App. 
Sir, if you please but to go to your daughter's Chamber you shall yet find the storm not laid which her anger raised, to think such a scorn should be designed for her.  King. 
Some one go find Seleucus, and command him hither immediately; we'll take him with us, and by all our Gods this poisonous ingratitude that swells him thus ambitiously shall burst him.  [Within. Sel. 
I cannot stay, for I have earnest business with the King; Are you sure he is not in the Lodgings? in your return you shall find me in the Garden; if I meet him there— Hold, Carillus, the Kings here.  [Enter Seleucus. King. 
Seleucus!  Sel. 
Sir, I have been this morning in search of you, I have a business for your own ear only, let your Guard attend, Sir.  King. 
Yes, it shall stay. Noble Appius, your pardon, I'll meet you at my Daughters.  [Exit Appius. Sel. 
This morning I have discovered—  King. 
So have I, that which thou shalt rue, fond Wretch.  Sel. 
Sir!  King. 
Impudence, with what brow dar'st thou thus meet my fury? Thinkest thou to scape? Art thou again raising new Treasons ere the fire has consumed the Sacrifice for our last delivery, again to put my preservation into the power of a miracle only to relieve me? No, thou shalt find thy ingratitude hath destroyed my mercy, and begot an anger that shall consume thee. Seize him.  [The Guard seize Seleucus. Sel. 
That you have the power of the Gods, and I am subject to your Thunder, is confessed: but my innocence protect me; as yet I know not the cause why it singles me out. 'Tis true, I came to see you dressed like Jove, for now 'tis just you wear your Lightning, but not for me who have with longing sought you to deliver the greatest service that ever yet my faith pleaded reward for; but why you thus meet me in displeasure, Heaven strike me if I can guess; nor do I believe I am guilty; for you proceed not with me as I were a Delinquent, the worst of which are heard ere condemned: But I see you repent your favours and desire my fall, which is the time I ought not to outlive; and therefore by this wound I'll plead my faith and readiness to serve.  [He offers to stab himself. King. 
Disarm him.  Sel. 
They cannot; but when I am gone you'll hear a mischief my life might have prevented.  King. 
Hold, or I shall conclude thy fear of deserved torture makes thee thus by a sudden stroke execute thyself.  Sel. 
Fear? No, I fear but one more than a King trembles at, and that's the Gods, and him; and to let your Majesty see I apprehend not Torture, thus I throw away all dangers that my own act threatens; and now, Sir, be so just as to let me know the cause of your anger e'er it strikes.  King. 
Were not you this morning with my Daughter, and there made the traitorous offer of your love?  Sel. 
Yes.  King. 
Yes! Dar'st thou avow it, and know'st how lately that danger threatened our ruin in Silvander?  Sel. 
Will you be pleased to hear me? if I be guilty punish me; if not, give me leave to tell you, a King can only cure such a wound as your suspicion, Sir, hath given my diligent faith, which has ever been watchful in your Majesty's service.  King. 
Speak, let him lose.  Sel. 
Know, Sir, though I am amazed to find this news before me, I came now from the Princess Chamber, drawn thither by an occasion; which if you please to lend your ear to, I am confident you'll say I had reason for what I did.  [They whisper, King. 
Can you prove this?  Sel. 
Can I prove it? Yes, Sir, I can prove it; but Jealousy is a Weed whose Root lies so many ways that if once it take growth it is hardly digged out; and this sad truth (if once suspected, and never confident) is fallen upon me, else what I shall say would find a faith with you; but I desire not now to have my words clear me; take but my counsel, and I shall give your Majesty the satisfaction you desire; seem still to frown on me, and require not the Princess company this night in the Court; the rest, Sir, in your ear.— Will this confirm you I am loyal, and by several They whisper .ways hunt your safety?  King. 
Come, Seleucus, this trouble shows thy loyalty; thouart my friènd, and shalt ever have an interest here.  [Exeunt King and attendants. Manet Seleucus. Seleu. 
Yes, I will have an interest in the Crown, whatever I have in thee; and now thou believest thou art safe thy dangers but begin.  [Exit.  

ACT. III. SCEN. IV.  Enter Tullius. Tull. 
'TIs a brave clear night, and something may be attempted 
Philemon asleep on the Stage.  
He stumbles on Philemon . from the Town, we must keep a strong watch tonight.— How now, who have were here? rouse up, I say.  Phil. 
Who's there? lie down, why do you kick me? ye gods! one would think this bed were large enough; if the earth be not, where shall the wretched lie? that thus you kick me out as if you wanted room?  Tull. 
Up I say, leave your snarling, you dog; sleeping in your watch?  Phil. 
If I am a dog, why should I be punished for obeying nature, the only Deity that beasts bow to? if not, why am I refused the benefit of reason?  Tull. 
Are you grumbling? look to your duty; you'll find you have use of other thoughts else.  [Exit Tullius. Phil. 
Oh ye gods! why do you thus load a youth? I was not proud when I was bowed to; nor ever with repinings did I bow to you; why then on my freeborn soul do you lay the load of slavery, and thus let your justice sleep, that she does not now guide my prayers; but suffers them to lose their way twixt heaven and my sufferings: which I have been so long acquainted with, that I am now grown a kin unto my woes, allied unto my oar, where I have set, forced to unwilling haste, sighing for my freedom, till through a thousand eyes I have sweating wept my miseries: oh look down in time upon them, ere I yield to those irreligious thoughts that tempt me to question my faith; for ye cannot blame me if I grow weary of praying, when I find that mighty power that threw me here want mercy to break the snare.  Enter Manlius and Tullius, bringing in a Slave that had stabbed the Captain.] Man. 
Strike an Anchor through the body of the slave; he has not hurt you, I hope.  Tull. 
No, h'as missed me.  Man. 
What urged the villain to this bold undertaking?  Tull. 
Unless the opportunity that the night afforded, and the nearness of the Town made him attempt it for his freedom, I know not else.  Man. 
Look that tomorrow early as the day the dog be sacrificed to the parting shades, that their black may still be friendly to our deliverance; and d'you hear, let him be broke upon an Anchor, that, on Hope's Emblem, the wretch may meet his despairing cross.— When dogs thus fly at their Masters, 'tis just we strangle them, neither their kind nor use considered; go, Tullius, let the watch be set, and some good guard put into the wood to secure the Passage from the Town.  Tull. 
It shall.  Man. 
Tullius, did the Peasant say the King was crowned again, and the Usurper dead, and the Princess to be married to the stranger, Prince Appius, that came in aid of the King; and that Seleucus has been in some disgrace today?  Tull. 
So the fellow says, for certain.  Man. 
Tomorrow then we'll fit us with our disguise, and to Court we'll go; for now virtue sits at Helm and holds the purse; gratitude will find some reward for me that wished well to her power; for this night see the Galley at road, and when the watch is set, to rest; and tomorrow call at my Cabin.  Tull. 
I shall.  [Exit Tullius. Man. 
Lie you there, and let nobody, without exception, trouble, till I call, unless some dangers threaten, then give me notice. Speaks to Philemon.  [Exit Manlius. Phil. 
Methinks, in that condemned slave I read mine own fortune, whose cross fate hath forfeited him to eternal bonds for stoutly attempting his freedom; which if ever it comes within my power, here stands another marked for sacrifice, if he fails in the attempt; for death frights not me, nor binds the innocent, but comes to set them free; I cannot let it sink with patience into my thoughts, I have not man enough, nor Religion to continue an acquaintance with that virtue that says, endure: when I consider I was born a Prince by the consent of all, distinguished from a Chaos of common people, created their head, and so stood the man of men, till this misfortune struck me, in which I am not sure I shall have a burying place; for a slave can call so little in this world his own, that the very earth he wears about him is not his, nor can I command this handful, not this, not mine own clay: But lost like yesterday; when my Masters Fiat comes, I fall and dissolve to the first Mass of things. Lays his hand on his breast.  [Exit.  

ACT. III. SCEN. V.  Enter Melintus, Claricilla, Olinda, and Timillus. Clar. 
SO, now leave us; and if anybody ask for me, say, I am laid to rest.  Olinda. 
I shall.— And where you rest too.  [Exit. Melin. 
Dear Timillus, is Jacomo ready with the horses?  Timil. 
He is, and waits us at the Postern.  Melin. 
Let us not lose a minute then of this precious time; 'twill be a reward for thy faith too, when they shall say Timillus had a hand in this great work: prithee, let thy friendship secure the passage that leads from the king's lodgings.  Timil. 
So, now have I an honourable excuse to take cold with; 'tis a strange bold venture he makes; and a confident virtue, that of hers, that dare trust themselves in the hands of my opinion, when I am alone to guess how they mean to employ this opportunity.  Melin. 
Madam, 'tis not the fear of my particular that makes me urge this sad parting, but your interest which is joined to it; and when your Highness is concerned, 'tis a civility to fear, and an obligation to doubt my joys; for Claricilla knows despair is no sin in love's Religion.  Clar. 
Let me not understand thee, nor let not reason bind up that you urge; oh Melintus, 'tis the first time that ever I was grieved to hear thee in the right; and you must pardon it; for though parting be the only way to confirm my joy, I cannot consent at such a rate to buy my happiness.  Melin. 
Thus you increase the wished number of my bonds; the Prince until my return will observe all your commands, and assist us in our escape, and by his favour countenance the act; for Messina, if my Father commanded there in chief, I could not hope a greater power than I am confident Pelius will allow your worth when you arrive there; and ere this Moon hath felt her change, I will again attend you with the Galleys here.  Clar. 
Must you then be gone? and again with absence spin our loves into a thread which is fastened to our fates; I hope that no distance may find the end; say, must you go? must it needs be so?  Melin. 
I would there were not such a strict necessity, but that I might say, no.  [She turns and looks on the Tree. Clar. 
Well, since it must be, resolved then, but not contented, I submit unto my fate; and thou Laurel-tree which so oft hast been a witness of our sad parting, if within thy Bark the angry god hath with the trembling Virgin any of his passion hid, thou know'st what pain they feel that with longing love follow their flying joys; and see, look, Melintus, casting mine eye by chance, I have spied one of the witnesses of our infant love; do you remember when we changed our characters, and with them printed our faith on this yielding bark, 'twas then but a small scratch we gave; but now like our miseries by time increased, 'tis in her tender side to a large wound grown.  Melin. 
Why should we not for ever grow thus? why should She leans on his breast .the gods with thunder part what themselves have joined? we that have known but one wish, and to each others thoughts have parent been; why should not we thus gazing sit, and tie with kind smiles soft fetters for the eyes? but this cannot be; and therefore hear me pronounce mine own doom. Farewell, but ere I obey this sad necessity let me on your fair hand print my faith, and with holy vows bind myself to you for ever.  Clar. 
Oh hold, give me no contract, gentle Melintus; no ties but love; these are bonds I scorn to throw on such who from mine eyes can go.  She lays her arms upon him. Enter Seleucus, betraying them to the King while they are thus embracing. Seleu. 
Doth this object satisfy, have I performed, nor no?  [The King surprises them, and takes Claricilla away, Melintus sits in a maze. King. 
Yes. Claricilla, this act, when thy story shall be written, will not appear a kin unto the rest, that have had honour and duty still their guide, and not thus lead astray by passion.  Clar. 
Sir, I must not be beaten from my strength here, though you frown; a fault, I confess, but dishonour has no share in't.  King. 
Sir, you came a friend, and you are a stranger; nor will I while I labour to punish commit a fault by being ungrateful; or break the laws of hospitality, by laying hands upon you; only thus much, the injuries you have done me and the Prince bid me tell you, if to morrows Sun set upon you within my Court, his shades will bring yours upon you.  [Exeunt King, Claricilla, and Attendants. Seleu. 
Revenge, thouart prosperous, and in my anger this is lost; Craft, be thou as friendly to my designs upon that shallow Prince, and I alone stand fair for Claricilla still; I'll watch how it works; oh how he'll fume anon!  [Mel. is amazed, & lost in his rage a little while. Melin. 
The wounds that amazement gives strike all our senses, and like lightning destroy without a breach; and yet I see some food for, my Revenge; and whilst that fuel lasts this flame shall not perish. Seleucus, come back, and let your friend stay.  Seleu. 
Carillus, stay; what, your fit is off then I perceive, and you can be angry upon your own score, and fight when women are not by you.  Melin. 
Yes, thou shalt find I can, fond man! and the flame that thou hast kindled in my breast I will husband so that it shall consume thee; and neither hold it so high as to lose it in my choler, nor so low as to let patience tread it out.  Seleu. 
Spare your threats; your words wound not; when I refuse to fight upon a strange resolution then rant and rail, and I'll excuse it.  Mel. 
No, I am no Railer; I could wish thee rather a more glorious Enemy, on whose name scandal of no kind had ever lighted; by my life I wish it, and that thou wert clear from this base act, whose weight has sunk all the honour that swam in thy blood; and I am ashamed to think this necessity forceth me to offer one so lame in honour, and in passion blind, to the power I worship; for the imperfect are not fit for sacrifice.  Sel. 
I hope you have none of those faults, but will become an Altar. Lead the way, and you shall find Seleucus dares follow without being pulled to slaughter.  Mel. 
Under the wood's side that borders on the Haven will be a fit place; 'tis near the Town, and I believe free from company.  Sel. 
There I'll meet you then.  Tim. 
Hist, hist, to him. So, now they are come within my way Claps his hands .to put in: I am no good Talker; but when opinions are to be maintained thus, I think I have as strong an Argument as another.  Exeunt omnes.  

ACT. III. SCEN. VI.  Enter Claricilla and Olinda. Clar. 
HAste to Prince Appius, and desire him immediately to do Exit Olinda me the honour to speak with me. O me most miserable! this night has ruined me; my Fame which was like a Star, bright and fixed in the Court till this sad hour; Treachery black Treachery in somebody, has made appear a Meteor; but if it portend my Melintus fall, my night at Court is come too; and in that vast Element I'll shoot, and be no more remembered.   

ACT. III. SCEN. VII.  Enter Melintus, Timillus, Seleucus and Carillus, severally. Tim. 
SEe, here come two of the long-staff-men that struck so desperately under the Hedge tonight; I hope to apprehend one of them by virtue of this Warrant.  Mel. 
Bold and injurious Seleucus still.  Sel. 
Let your anger pass, and hear what I say, for this is the last talk I'll have with thee whate'er thou art; Know, since first thou crossed these eyes my Jealousy and Envy have waited upon thee; and now I have gained my end; 'twas to see whether Conquest grew upon thy Sword or no, when this (not used to lose) should go forth thy Enemy and Rival; and therefore guard thee, and with thy Sword only make reply.  Melin. 
'Tis my wish, for words are not the weapons I fight with.  [They fight. Tim. 
Do you hear, Carillus, may not you and I fall to at this feast before your Lord has supped?  Car. 
Yes, and be mine own Carver too.  Tim. 
That I believe, for I ever took thee for a saucy Servingman.  Sel. 
I am lost.  [Seleucus wounded by Melintus. Mel. 
Does your load sink you? thy faults will grow too heavy anon.  Sel. 
I know no fault but that I am unfortunate.  Car. 
Lie there Talker.  [Timillus falls. Tim. 
A pox upon thee, thou hast done't.  Melin. 
Yield, or by my hopes in thy heart I'll write my Conquest.  [Seleucus falls. Sel. 
Strike, Dog; I'll perish ere I'll have so base a sin to answer for.  [They struggle, and Carillus parts 'em, just as Melintus disarms Seleucus. Car. 
Hold, or I'll write the same story here.  Mel. 
Ha! Timillus fallen? though it speaks his praise, my Friend calls for revenge, and thus I bring it.  [They fight. Car. 
I fear no single arm.  Sel. 
Be prosperous, Carillus, and I will call thee Friend, the saviour Carillus wounded, Seleucus swoons. of my Fame— 'twill not be. That wound hath sent me frowning to my home.  Tim. 
A pox of Fortune, have I scaped the Master so often to be served in thus, like broken cold meat for the Serving-men? I find I cannot live, I begin to have serious thoughts— No, Faith, I am He strives to rise but cannot .gone. I always feared such sober wounds as these; they are in such earnest I know they'll kill me, if they would endure a jest there were some hopes.  Car. 
Hold, if thou hast honour, and tell me who thou art, that strik'st with such a constant fortune.  [Melintus leaves Carillus and goes to Timillus. Mel. 
I have no leisure now— O Timillus, speak to thy unfortunate Friend, whose acquaintance hath never brought thy faith to any thing but misery and dangers: How dost? I hope thy wounds are not mortal.  Tim. 
No, nor our troubles; would they were, that we might once see an end of them— But no more of this now. I hear a noise, and I know we shall be pursued; therefore make haste Within Follow, follow .and fly.  Mel. 
For shame urge like thyself, if thou wouldst have me take thy counsel; bring my Friend into a danger, and leave him there? No, Timillus, we grew Friends, and we will fall together  Tim. 
Leave me, and provide for thy safety, or by my life I'll betray thee, and tell who thou art; nor will I, if thou stayest, attempt the possibility of my own cures. 'Sdeath? because I could kill my Enemy, must I destroy my Friend?  Mel. 
Why thus passionate!  Tim. 
If Melintus loved me he would obey the passion of his Friend, and not chide— Hark, you will be taken, step into thee Within Follow .Wood, and in some Disguise you may come to Court.  Mel. 
Farewell, Timillus, I obey.  [Exit. Enter King, Appius, and Attendants. 1 Attend. 
This way they went, Sir, and here lies one.  King. 
Seleucus slain?  Appius. 
And here lies Carillus.  King. 
Who's the third?  Tim. 
A Bird of the same flight, that had worse luck than my fellows; for my wings only broke, that I might live miserably, to make sport for the Fool that laid the snare; Shall I never be so happy as to be knocked o'th' head when 'tis to do me a courtesy?  King. 
The bodies are yet warm; bring them with all possible speed to the Town, that no care may be wanting to save my Friend; bring him along too, he shall find our love till he be well; I will not offer a ruin to my Friend; when he's repaired he'll scarce be a full satisfaction. Some other pursue the bold Murderer; if he once come within my reach he shall find his Sword has no power to protect him against that which my justice brings.  [They take up Timillus. Tim. 
So, thus much honour I am sure of; but how much more I know not, do you my Friend?  2 Attend. 
No, Sir; and yet I think you'll find what you deserve.  Tim. 
You're courteous and liberal of your opinion, and therefore I will not be sparing of mine; it may be I shall be honourably hanged for having a hand in killing Seleucus.  2 Attend. 
It may be so.  [Exeunt omnes.   


ACT. IV. SCEN. I.  Enter Philemon presently after Tullius. Phil. 
WHat noise is this that thus circles us? A noise within.  Tul. 
This noise is everywhere, and begirts us round; I'll go wake Manlius, 'twill be worth our care to search the cause.  Phil. 
Stand, who goes there?  Tul. 
ay, Tullius; Have you waked the Captain?  Phil. 
No.  Tul. 
'Tis time he were waked.  [He offers to go on, Philemon holds him. Phil. 
Hold.  Tul. 
How now!  Phil. 
'Twas his command, that no man, without exception, should come to him till he had notice, nor be called unless some danger threatened.  Tul. 
Did you not hear the noise?  Phil. 
Yes, but noise is no danger, nor will I call him.  Tul. 
You will not call him? Who am I that thou dar'st tempt me thus? Call him, and call him quickly, or thou shalt call thy last.  Phil. 
I serve but one Master, and him I will not call; nor shall you break his rest while I can hinder it.  [Phil. stands in his way. Tul. 
Do not play with my anger; by all our Gods with a wound I'll make my way; and it shall lie over thy belly (Slave) if thou provokest me.  Phil. 
Wounds are easily given to naked men; and thou wilt sooner bring 'em than I fear 'em.  Tul. 
'Sdeath! braved by my Slave? Thus, Villain, and then I tread under my feet thy scorned earth.  [Tullius draws. Phil. 
Help, Manlius, help.  [Phil. takes hold of Tullius' Sword. Tul. 
Unloose thy hold, or by my vexed soul I'll print Death's cold Seal on thy Heart.  Phil. 
I will not lose it: O my Vow, to what strict Laws thou Tullius on the ground, Phil. upon him. bindest me; else here I would throw off my bonds, and with thy own knife cut thy hated throat; Dog, thou art more a Slave than my Chains can make me.  [While they are struggling, Enter Manlius, Man. 
Ha! what sudden cry was that called for help?— The Rhodian grappled? How's this? and Tullius under? Let go, or I'll part thee with death. Is this a posture for a Slave?  [Draws his Dagger Phil. 
No; if I would have been a Slave I had been safe, and you it may be might have felt these wounds.  Man. 
Tullius, what mean these wounds?  Phil. 
Wounds are the food of Slaves, else I deserve not these for my faith; but Loyalty is against kind in me, and therefore I am punished for obeying your command, which was that no man without exception, should pass this way till I had given you notice, which he would have done, and because I refused him thus my faith's rewarded.  Man. 
Is this true?  Tul. 
In part 'tis; the Wood this night was full of noise, and I awaked with the Alarm, would have given you notice, and he refused to let me pass, and therefore—  Man. 
You would have killed him?— Come, 'twas not well, such a piety as faithfulness among Slaves is so scarce it ought to have been cherished not punished. Every day by one act or other this Fellow begets my wonder, Honour and Courage still striking in him— Come hither; once again I command thee tell me who He turns to Philemon .thou art, and by my life I'll set thee free.  Phil. 
I see you have honour, Sir, and therefore presume when you shall know I am bound by a Vow never to disclose myself whilst I am in bonds, you'll call it Religion, not disobedience, when I refuse to tell.  Man. 
Wilt thou be faithful when thou art free?  Phil. 
I will be faithful though I am not free.  Man. 
Vow that, and I will immediately knock off thy Chains.  Phil. 
Arm but my hand, and set me free, and then I'll take a Vow; and having sworn faith to thee all the earth's wealth shall He calls one to take off his chains, and gives him a Dagger .not make me false.  Man. 
Here, by this I manumize thee; and if thou provest a Gentleman, henceforth thou art my Friend, however thou art free.  Phil. 
And, Sir, since your pity hath thus made my joys put off my fears that I should have fallen forgotten, and returned to my Mother Earth like her common Issue— Thus in thankfulness with eyes to Heaven bent, and a soul full of gratitude, I vow a constant faith to virtue, and—  Enter Melintus, pursuing a Soldier, who cries help; Melintus kills and disarms him. Mel. 
To what strange fate am I reserved, or by what sin have I pulled down this Curse of a general hate that all paths I tread are armed against me? Ha! more Enemies? Nay then, Melintus, yield, for 'tis visible thou warrest with Heaven.  [He spies'em. Man. 
What art thou that with such pains hast to this place hunted thy ruin, and thus with injurious wounds in the dead of night awaked our anger?  Mel. 
Prithee go forward with thy injury; such another Charm will call back my anger, and then I shall be safe; for it hath ever yet been prosperous, though that success made me unfortunate.  Man. 
Leave thus vaingloriously to urge your former success, for 'twill be no ground now to build a future conquest on; and therefore yield thy Sword, and quickly, before I command it and thy head; Know my power here rules even thy fate.  Mel. 
Yield my Sword? By what other privilege do I hold my life among my Enemies? Prithee look upon me, and if thou canst read these Characters, they'll tell thee I was not born to yield; and though Mel. shows his wounds. thou art the glorious Master of the sport, and I unfortunate by a cross fate am hunted into the Toil where dangers on all sides begird my innocence, yet with the Lion I dare be angry with my bonds; and although I may become thy Prey yet I will not be thy scorn.  Man. 
I'll dispute no longer; Seize him; if he resist, in his heart seal the first stroke of thy freedom.  Phil. goes towards him, and knows him. Phil. 
Ha! Melintus!  Mel. 
He named me; What art thou that call'st me by my name? Ye Gods, is misery so near akin that by instinct the wretched know me?  Man. 
How now! 'what do you muse on? Had you daring only while you were unarmed?  Phil. 
No, 'twas a consideration of the baseness of the act, not fear, made me stop, and the remembrance that I am free held me from staining that maiden liberty the Gods have sent me with so base an act as to strike where there's three to one: besides, his posture and his habit speak him a Gentleman, and his misfortunes rather to be pitied than increased.  Mel. 
A help from Heaven if this be real.  Man. 
Slave, and ungrateful, thou shalt find thou hast too soon mentioned thy freedom; Fool, only free in hope; and this act hath but increased thy load of chains. Curse thyself for thy increase of miseries shall make thee find thouart more a slave then ever.  Phil. 
Do not deceive thyself; look there and here.— And Points to chains, and shows his Dagger .ere thou art lost in thine anger, hear this truth I speak, he that is master of this and will become a slave must be a coward too; and now I'm armed I scorn to owe my freedom to any but the gods.  Man. 
Death, dog dost thou brave me with my courtesy? draw, They both draw and run at! Philemon .Tullius, my thirsty rage will be quenched with nothing but the slave's blood.  Melin. 
Heaven! for aught I know we are by thy direction thus cast two to two; if not, I'm sure by honour we are— here, take this sword.  [He runs in between'em, and gives Philemon the soldier's sword. Phil. 
Now, Tullius, thou shalt see how mortal thy power is, which so like a god thou wear'st among thy slaves. Revenge and freedom guide me to thy ruin; and you, Sir, strike to prevent the use of such an opportunity; a vow forbids me to tell you who I am— Now the wound that thou basely gav'st me when I was bound Speaks to Tullius .and naked shall be revenged.  Tull. 
I have but few words.  Man. 
I am your choice then.  Melin. 
As it happens. They fight, Tullius falls. Philemon leaves him, and runs to Melintus and parts'em.  Tull. 
I am slain, and by my Slave bound for ever.  Man. 
Nay, then I'll smiling fall now I have my revenge; for I see thou wert born to be a slave, and all thy acts of honour were but distempers in thee; and now thy nature is strong thou appear'st thyself a slave in thy soul; come, what stays thee, I have a breast so clear it defies thy poniard, Traitor.  Phil. 
No, I was born free, and Manlius's rage once over he will say he has injured me:— And, Sir, as I drew my sword against my Master when Honour bade me; so when you shall seek To Melintus .to make me faulty, I am your enemy; and therefore attempt no farther this man's danger, 'tis not safe.  Man. 
My wonder waits upon all this fellows acts.  Melin. 
What art thou that thus in less than a man hides more than a god?  Phil. 
What am I? a soul with her old clothes on, a slave with wounds and crosses torn; and yet in better fortune I have known your face.  Melin. 
If thou hast mercy in thee tell me who thou art.  Phil. 
Mark me well, dost thou not see thyself here? not yet?— Now I am sure thou dost in these Crystal drops; friendship will guide Melintus to know Philemon. He weeps.  Melin. 
Philemon! Oh ye gods! new weights to sink me!  Phil. 
Oh! 'tis a powerful rod that Melintus' friendship strikes with; a thousand miseries have smote upon this rock; but never any that made water issue through till now.  Melin. 
Oh Philemon, Philemon, what cannot friendship do? 'tis from her living springs this dew falls.  Man. 
Melintus and Philemon! good heaven, what change hath begot this misery? Oh noble Princes, upon my knees I beg, when Manlius kneels to Melintus and Philemon .your surprised joys are over, you'll shower a pardon upon unfortunate Manlius.  Melin. 
Manlius! is this Manlius? he was Claricilla's friend.  Phil. 
'Tis Manlius, and I hope a fair day will break from this bloody evening.  Melin. 
Your pardon, Sir, or here upon my breast return the wounds my rage directed against yours.  Man. 
Repeat it not, Sir; you make me but call to mind my shame, which I must ever blushing wear when I remember a slave could look further into honour then myself.  Phil. 
Oh Melintus, I have a story for thee, that we shall weep out together.  Melin. 
When I look upon thee, I am distracted to think the gods would consent thus to let their temples be ruined, and virtue always walk naked like truth's Emblem, while better fates clothe the wicked.  Phil. 
Dear Melintus, let not the sense of my misfortunes urge a consideration from thee at the rate of sin, nor dare those powers which I know thou fearest.  Melin. 
I have done, noble youth; yet when I look upon thee, joy and amazement will seize me, I have strange things to tell thee, but this nor time nor place.— Who is this that thus unfortunately met thy anger?  [Turns to Tullius that lies wounded by. Man. 
A stout and grateful fellow; 'twas the Captain that saved me when I was doomed to death by the Usurper, Silvander, 'cause I designed Claricilla's freedom.  Melin. 
He stirs; heaven, I hope, will not let the guilt of one accidental fault hang upon this evening to cross our joys.  Phil. 
I am sorry, since there dwelled such honour in him, that he proved my enemy; this was the Pirate took me at Rhodes, in that unfortunate fight where we were parted.  Man. 
Pray help him aboard my Galley, where we may all repose until tomorrow; and resolve what is to be done in this new change in Sicily.  Phil. 
Lay thy hands here, Melintus, for these bonds can only set Philemon free.  [Exeunt omnes.   


ACT. V. SCEN. I.  Enter Appius and Claricilla. Clar. 
I Have done; passion can be a friend to none, she's so unconstant; give her way, and she destroys herself; if I had been so fortunate to have spoke with you last night, I had prevented this sad chance; for I knew Melintus' anger would take a dangerous leap, when by amazement he had contracted it.  Appius. 
If I could have feared such a danger, I should not have been so absent with the remedy; but I am not satisfied how it was discovered by the King; yet if civility had not prevented me ere now I had spoke my fears; and long since said, beware of Olinda.  Clar. 
Olinda! she betray me! it cannot be, 'tis such a common fate I blush to think it; I cannot fear a punishment that comes such a road way; and yet I'll observe her: but pray what said Timillus, was Melintus wounded?  Appius. 
Not dangerous, some sleight hurts he had, and upon our approach he took covert in the Wood; Timillus says he is resolved in some disguise to attempt to speak with you; and my counsel is to send some one that's trusty in search of him.  Clar. 
I shall; and then if you please we'll walk into the Garden.  Appius. 
I'll wait upon you.  [Exeunt.  

ACT. V. SCEN. II.  Enter Melintus, Philemon, Manlius, Ravack, all, but Manlius, in slave's habits. Phil. 
I Rejoice that this day has proved so fortunate as to bring your youth a freedom with less sadness, than last night's storm threatened.  Rav. 
Sir, my safety is a debt I owe your watchful mercy, that thus amongst the earliest of your joys could let your noble pity hunt for so lost a thing as Ravack.  Melin. 
Now we are arrived we have no spare time to clothe truth fine, therefore give my naked faith a hearing; I am confident you will not refuse to take our fortunes in this design, whose innocency, though we are thus forced to hide with the marks of guilt, and slaves habits, yet know there is so much justice on our side, that though we fall in the attempt, and this haste prove but running to embrace the stake, yet we shall in our stories be distinguished, and live in the glorious shine which breaks from the Brows of honour's Martyrs.  Rav. 
I am but one, and I'll not say I shall be fortunate; but I am certain I shall attempt any thing that may speak my gratitude.  Man. 
Give me leave to break this discourse; and since you are pleased to trust me with this service let me not lose time; but while this expectation is in the Court let me see whether I can walk unseen, or no; and because Seleucus' danger was only loss of blood, they will be more intent about him then if he had fallen; I'll be gone, the day grows old, in the Garden you say 'tis likely I shall find her, and the Prince is a young man, fair haired.  Melin. 
Yes.  Man. 
I am instructed.  [Exit Manlius. Phil. 
'Tis the mind I see that binds or sets us free; for that being satisfied we have made our fears our sports, and thus mask in our miseries; but, by my life, the earnest they once were in makes me start to think thee thus miserable in jest.  Melin. 
Philemon's love is more fortunate than Melintus; for it finds kind ways to express itself, while I unfortunate only wish and cry how fain I would rejoice in the lasting knot, which we have thus triply tied: By blood, by love, by miseries allied.  [Exeunt.  

ACT. V. SCEN. III.  Enter Manlius, Appius, and Claricilla. Man. 
THis place returns my forgotten miseries, by calling to mind how happy once I was; but who are these?  Appius. 
Who's that that walks there?  Clar. 
I know not, is he not of your acquaintance?  Appius. 
No, Madam; walk on, and mind him not.  [He follows 'em. Clar. 
Who would the man speak with all?  Appius. 
What would you, friend? would you speak with the Princess?  Man. 
Yes, Sir; Madam, I am one that wants, but cannot beg; yet when I have put off my blushes, be pleased to cast your eye upon a soldier's scars, and pity a Gentleman bowed by misfortunes, not faults, to this wretched lowness; if then your bounty find not a charity, your pardon, and I am gone.  Clar. 
A Soldier is the god I worship, and to him I offer this charity.— Here take all that at this time I have about me; pray, Gives him a purse .of what Country are you?  Man. 
The name of Soldier is such a common theme to beg with, and a disguise so many cheat under, that I should not dare ask like myself, but that I can show under the honoured hands of those Commanders where I served, who and what I am; and had it been my fortune to have met the brave Princess, Melintus, and Philemon here, the service I once did them they would not have seen unrewarded.  Clar. 
Prithee softly; dost thou know Melintus and Philemon? say, and be not amazed I ask thus hastily; where didst thou know them? gentle Soldier, speak.  Man. 
Yes, Madam, I do know 'em; and here under their hands I have to show the service I did them, which if you please you may read.  [He delivers her Melintus' Letter, she reads aside. Appius. 
Prithee hast of late heard of Philemen, or canst thou tell whether he be alive or no; or canst thou give any account of Melintus lately?  Clar. 
Oh yes, yes, he can; read there and satisfy yourself. Oh noble Manlius, where is Melintus, where is the Galley, where is Philemon? why do I stay, cannot you guide me, will not you guide me, will not Prince Appius go? I am resolved I will, and be miserable no longer here, where Religion, Friendship, Duty, Love no harvest bring; all my endeavours here as vainly beat the air, as the Impostors beads that fall without a Prayer; say, shall we go? will you remove me from this place so full of danger, to my friends? look, he writes to me to come, and shall I stay? no, no, Melintus, I obey; and were it to shrink into the earth I'll meet thee, and no longer with my prayers protect this ingrateful place from the punishment her treacheries call down. Let fools like Beadsmen to the Altar bow for others' sins; I'll pay none but mine own vows.  Appius. 
We must follow her, Sir, and within counsel or charm her passion.  [Exeunt omnes.  

ACT. V. SCEN. IV.  Enter Seleucus, Surgeon, and Servants. Seleu. 
IS there no hope of Carillus' life?  Surg. 
No, my Lord.  Seleu. 
Will Timillus scape?  Surg. 
Yes, my Lord, his wounds were sleight.  Seleu. 
But he shall not, nor shall fortune have power to add another sickly week to his hated days, wait all without.— My hopes are blasted, nor must I expect ever to gain my ends by fair means from Claricilla, I have wound up her hatred to so great height; and 'twere folly to hope a peace from a woman crossed in her love; no, no, policy or force must gain the pleasure I am at.— Who's He knocks .there?  [Enter Servant. Serv. 
Sir, the King.  [Enter the King. Seleu. 
Oh Sir, hide me from my shame, or my blushes will not let me look upon you; the disgrace brands me with coward for ever, that I should be o'ercome when nothing but a Traitor struck; a thing which ought to have been the scorn, not fear of honest men when they are armed.  King. 
Quiet thyself, and be not troubled at such a scorned subject; I come to tell thee ere this shame be over, while I can with justice frown, I would have Claricilla married; and how to work our ends we'll now resolve.  [Enter Servant. Serv. 
Sir, there's a Seaman without desires to speak with you; he says he has earnest business that concerns the State.  King. 
Admit him.  [Enter Manlius. Man. 
Dissimulation, thou that so oft hast been prosperous in thy attempts upon the innocent, once let virtue owe thee for a service.  Seleu. 
What's your business, Sir, that so hastily requires a hearing?  Man. 
Ha! the King! I must not know him; Sir, be pleased to command your servants off, and I shall whisper a service shall claim a reward, which I will not require till it be perfect.  Seleu. 
There needs no whisper here; for if it concern the Kingdom speak it to the King.  Man. 
The King! thus low I beg your pardon, Sir; and then give me leave to ask whether it be worth your care, or no, to have He kneels .in your power the stranger that fought with my Lord Seleucus.  Seleu. 
softly.  King. 
Dost thou know where he is? canst thou direct my anger which way to seize the Traitor? if thou canst propose thine own reward, and take a king's word, thou shalt have my power to effect it.  Man. 
Sir, I will not bargain; but in snort, thus; I have been faulty; and a Pirate speaks the kind; but 'twas while the fault was in fashion here, and a thief (Silvander) wore the Crown; your pardon for my past faults is the reward I beg for this service; which if I were not confident I could do I were mad thus to wake your anger with a deluded hope. But to the business; early this morning there came to my Galley (which now rides in the haven) two strangers, as they pretended, that had unfortunately in a duel slain one that had a near relation to your Majesty, and by many arguments pleaded my protection; which at first sight their miseries engaged me to, and I undertook to serve them: one of them (the fair-haired-man) gave me a Letter to deliver to the Princess, from whom he says I should have great rewards if I would be faithful; I undertook it; and if this may procure my peace, when you please to command me, they are dead.  Seleu. 
The Letter, prithee let's see the Letter; 'tis he for certain, but who the second should be!  King. 
I cannot guess.  Seleu. 
Thy pardon, and a reward for thy faith, upon my life, thou shalt receive.  King. 
Hast thou the Letter?  Man. 
Yes, Sir.  [He delivers the King the Letter. King. 
Ha! Melintus and Philemon, their hands subscribed to this treason; see Seleucus, 'tis Melintus and Philemon that in disguise have waited our destruction; the gods are just still, and now from the height of all their impious darings have let them fall into our punishments; look, they urge Claricilla to an escape by the assistance of this honest Soldier; they assure her she may safely make it, and call all this treason flying from slaughter; assist me, Seleucus, that I may invent some strange torture to afflict their falsehoods.  Seleu. 
Is this possible?  Man. 
Work on, Mischief, till their rage has blinded them; that in the dark I may the easier lead them to their ruin. Aside.  Seleu. 
Melintus and Philemon, 'tis no new danger, this; my rage distracts me; and in the strength that anger lends me I can perform all you can require from a sound and healthy friend; but do it quickly, Sir, before I am unbent; and thus by her assistance reach their ruin.  King. 
It cannot be she should consent to my destruction.  Seleu. 
It cannot be! then he were a fool, and only sowed dangers, to reap dangers; think you he would lose his heaven to place another there? no, 'tis visible, he loves; and that has been the cause moved all his darings; and that he loves the Princess, does that start you? call to mind the surprise in the garden, what rage will that meeting fill your breast with, when you shall know 'tis no airy, hopeless, single Love; no Cupid with one Wing that threatens now as when Silvander struck, these have made the imperfect Boy a perfect god betwixt 'em; and with return of eternal faith have given both wings and eyes, and direct by their bold souls; what to do is now upon the wing, and flies with more certain danger in your Court then death, or fire.  King. 
This is a dangerous truth; and if my Daughter consent to their desires, they die.  Seleu. 
To be secured of which, seal this Letter, and deliver it this honest man; and let him deliver it to your Daughter, and urge her answer, which when he has, let him return with it to your Majesty; this will guide your justice which way to steer; and your anger shall only find the guilty; and the act being just, consequently 'tis safe; for the guilty have no revenge to follow their fall.  King. 
I am resolved, if she consent they fall; dispatch him with the Letter, and let me have an answer at my Chamber.  Seleu. 
Sir, now you consent to be safe, be not troubled, but leave the rest to me.— Now to our business, I'll immediately Exit King .send a servant for a woman of the Princess, my creature, from whom I have daily intelligence; she shall get you an opportunity to deliver the Letter; her name's Olinda; and to her I'll address you; to be false now is to be faithful.  Man. 
And that makes me so false; but stay, Sir; I have a mind to make you indebted to me for a greater benefit than you dream on.  Seleu. 
Whither tend'st thou?  Man. 
To assure you I intend to be faithful, and to oblige myself; to make which good I'll put my life into your hands; and if you dare obey my directions, I'll propose away that with safety you may reach your revenge; a Crown, and Claricilla.  Seleu. 
Claricilla! canst thou propose a way to gain her? let but that appear, through fire and water, opposed dangers, greater than cowards fears create I'll fly to embrace it.  Man. 
Within I'll instruct you, and then I'll obey the king's directions for the Letter; which will be one step to advance our plot, and if it thrive, what I shall be I'll leave to your own bosom to resolve.  Seleu. 
What thou shalt be? why, thou shalt be my bosom.  [Exeunt.  

ACT. V. SCEN. V.  Enter Appius and Claricilla. Clar. 
I Wonder he stays so long; I am afraid his reason will not prevail with my Father and Seleucus; and though I was by strength of your argument persuaded to it, yet I am sorry I consented to let them know 'tis Melintus whom they pursue, a name already subject to their hate: but heaven I hope will direct all.  Appius. 
If I were not assured that Manlius were honest, I should not have ventured thus to persuade you to discover where your health lies; but when I am secure that those in whose power he is will with their lives protect him; and his discovery is only a bait to draw his enemy into his power; I must again desire you will with patience attend the issue of what is well designed, however it may meet a cross.  [Enter Manlius. Man. 
Oh Madam, I am laden with joy; and the strangeness of the burden makes me thus sink in the way; I have discovered who 'tis that betrays you, 'tis Olinda; Seleucus made it his boast; but you must not yet take notice of it, but seem to rely upon her faith as a means of your escape, which is consented to by all, under a hope that they shall seize you and your friends together; I cannot tell you all the particulars now; only thus much, our designs have taken as I could wish; this Letter by their consent is returned to you; had you seen the care your Father took that the violence the seal met might not be perceived, you would have laughed; they expect your answer, and I have promised to bring it immediately, which must be, that you will meet Melintus this evening without delay, your woman only in company; and to be received from the Garden-wall; this being dispatched I'll to the King and show it him, and there make all sure; Sir, you must be pleased to mingle yourself in the presence; and there cheerfully accept any Proposition the King shall make, which shall only be what we resolve on within; and then I'll to my boat, and there in smiles pitch the bloody toils, wherein we'll take these hunters, and make them our prey.  Clar. 
Lose no time, for heaven's sake, 'tis a strange torture; do not you, nor you, feel it? thus to be delayed in the path that leads to brave Melintus.  Man. 
Madam, we'll lose no time; be you ready to obey yours, and I'll strictly observe my part; and I hope the next thing we discourse of will be the sacrifice due to heaven, for our deliverance.  [Exeunt.  

ACT. V. SCEN. VI.  Enter Melintus, Philemon, and Ravack. Melin. 
'TIs about the time that Manlius bid us expect his return; if we be so happy as to see Claricilla, what kind of habit will thy joy wear? I am afraid mine will be clothed in a paleness, for I cannot promise myself strength enough to bear such unexpected happiness.  Phil. 
Prithee think not of it, let it steal upon us; I find I have not man enough to meet her without trembling; the very thought has struck a coldness through my blood; and now you have told her that I love, I could easier die for her then speak to her; for though my love has none, yet I shall still have a guilt about me when I but look or speak to her.  Melin. 
Dear Philemon, we believed thee lost when I told the story; and I did it that thy friendship might live in her noble mention.  Phil. 
Sir, your pardon for that we entertain ourselves when you stand by, to whom methinks Love should not be a stranger.  Rav. 
I have a story too, but this no time to tell it.  Man. 
Noble Princes, do 'you not find me strangely altered with the joy that now possesses me? the Princess is well, and salutes you both, and the Prince kisses your hand.  Mel. 
Prithee let us partake the joy; Will the virtuous Claricilla come? Say, Have we an interest in this joy too?  Man. 
Yes, but I have a thousand things to tell you, which if you will attend and follow my directions, we shall ere tomorrow Sun see all our wishes crowned; but let us in, for we lose time, the day will be too short to bound our business in; and only thus much know, we but the metal bring, the Gods will have the way, and form to our deliverance the work of their own hands.  Mel. 
Let us softly follow, and give thanks with hearts that upwards look; for gratitude is to mercy both the Bait and Hook.  [Exeunt.  

ACT. V. SCEN. VII.  Enter Seleucus, Solus. Seleuc. 
THis Soldier was sent from Heaven I think to take care of me, all things run so even that he takes in hand; the Princess hath consented, the King I have persuaded to go in person and surprise her, the Prince too will bear them company, and what then?— My joys want a name; Melintus, Philemon, and the King, must die, Their fate which is, I have said it. The Prince shall live, but first I will show him Death to engage him in my action, upon no other condition shall he wear his head. O the several habits their humours will be in that Rage, Envy, Fear, and Amazement will breed in their wretched thoughts, when they shall find my words pronounce their doom, possess me of Claricilla, whose beauties increased by the sweetness of force will make me more a King than all the power that a Crown can give. But I lose time, and neglect my part in my own affairs; the King and Prince I must see meet at the place, where they must stand but as Witnesses to the receipt of all my part in Heaven, a Crown and Claricilla.   

ACT. V. SCEN. VIII.  Enter Melintus, Philemon, and Ravack. Phil. 
THis is the place he appointed we should wait for him, and 'tis much about the time he bid us expect him; if they come we shall profess a joy we hoped not; he brings revenge along, whose fruits the Gods have been pleased to feast with, and the sweets we see makes them from us Mortals with fiery injunction still enclose the Tree.  [Enter Manlius. Mel. 
Hark, I hope he comes, the Moon is friendly, 'tis he.  Man. 
Are you ready?  Omnes, 
Yes, yes.  Man. 
Be resolute then, and still, for theyare coming.  Enter King, Appius, and Seleucus. King. 
Are we right?  Sel. 
Yes, Sir.  King. 
Where's the Soldier?  Sel. 
He's stepped before.  King. 
Sir, I refrained to tell you what the occasion was till now, because I was ashamed to let you know my daughter's fault till you might be a witness of it, and than you would not wonder at my displeasure, when you perceive she could so put off her honour as to leave me lost in my promise to yourself, and hope of a wished Heir to succeed me here.  Appius. 
Sir, I hope some mistake has begot this doubt; the Princess ever promised a fair return of love to your Majesty, and I shall be glad to find you are deceived.  King. 
No, Sir, 'tis too true; for had not Seleucus his faith been watchful this night she had made her base flight into the loathed embraces of a Traitor and a Subject, nor does she yet know she shall be prevented.  Appius. 
I am sorry, Sir, your doubts have so much reason to build upon.  [Manlius whistles. Sel. 
We are called.  Man. 
This way, your hand.  Sel. 
Manlius, do they know how to distinguish me?  Man. 
Yes, I have given them a Sign.  [He leads the King and Seleucus, and delivers 'em to the Slaves. King. 
Is it long to the time she appointed?  Man. 
No, Sir, 'tis the hour she commanded me to wait; one of you look out, and if you spy a fire call, that we may approach to the Garden-wall with the Boat.  Phil. 
I go.  [Exit. Sel. 
If it be possible let Olinda fall by the board, I'd have her dead, she'll be talking else.  [Enter Philemon. Phil. 
I have made a Light from the princess's Window.  Manl. 
Quickly then set to the Wall; and do you hear Rhodian?  [They whisper. Phil. 
Leave that to me.  [Enter Claricilla and Olinda above. Clar. 
Dost think they'll come? Dost thou believe I shall be happy? My Love was ever of her bliss afraid.  Olind. 
You need not fear, I am confident your thoughts will be prosperous, I hear the water dash. Who's there, the Soldier?  Man. 
Yes, 'tis I. Who's there, Olinda?  Olind. 
Yes, and the Princess.  Man. 
Come to the next corner, we are all ready, be speedy.  Exit. Enter King, Appius, and Seleucus; to them Manlius, and Claricilla. Man. 
You are safe, the Slaves are the men I told you of; your Father, Appius, and Seleucus are all here; but be confident.  Sel. 
Stand close till they be off the Wall, and Olinda come, for she is guilty too.  Enter Manlius, Melintus, Philemon, and Ravack. Man. 
Fallen by the board, and not to be found? 'Sdeath, Slave, thy life shall answer the neglect.  Phil. 
She perished by her haste, no fault of mine.  Man. 
Leave your prating, Sirrah. Madam, your pardon for this unfortunate accident, your Maid is lost, fallen by chance by the board, and drowned; I should not dare to look you in the face after this but that I am confident I shall show you other Friends that are as dear to you.  Clar. 
My Maid lost! O set me back again, this ill omen foretells a greater danger.  Man. 
Can there be danger to Claricilla where these Friends are?  [Discovers the King, Appius and Seleucus. Clar. 
Ha! Traitor to my Love and me, What hast thou done?  King. 
Thou art a Traitor, unworthy, no more a Daughter, but the sin and shame of my blood; Fool that thou art, couldst thou thou believe that thy base passion could walk id so close a disguise that my anger could not find it: no, thou art deceived; and to urge thee to despair, know, thy obscure Paramours, Melintus and Philemon, (the two Wolves to my heart) thou hast thus with safety cut away, put off to the shore, and there thou shalt behold their ruin.  Manlius stands by the King, Philemon goes to Claricilla, Ravack to Appius, they seize them. Sel. 
Yes, Put off, that's the Word, and then put off hope, and in amazement behold the Lightning that's wrapped in this swollen cloud, which now breaks, and in death shoots your several fates.  King. 
Heaven, thou art just; and 'tis equal to let me fall in the design I laid to destroy those noble youths; but for thee, I will not look upon such an hated Traitor when I am so near my home.  Sel. 
No, you must be witness first to the Marriage of this Princess, than you shall both be a Sacrifice to our Hymen.  Clar. 
Thy wife? I smile upon thee; thou art so base a thing thou couldst never find my anger yet; my scorn was ever strong enough to strangle thy hopes.  Sel. 
Anon 'twill be my time to smile when died in thy Father's blood, my Revenge shall force all their Sweets from thee which I will gather in the presence of thy Paramour; nor shall he or these have liberty to die before I have enjoyed thee; but that act once past the Earth shall not redeem their Lives; Do you perceive how small a share you are like to have in this Kingdom?  Appius. 
I am glad to see thee grown to such a height of sin; for now my hopes tell me the Gods will not suffer such a Dog to bay them long, their Lightning will shoot thee, Monster.  Man. 
Sir, stay not to talk, but away to Neptune's. Temple; when we have performed what you resolved there, then to the Galley, and end your hunt.  Sel. 
Bind them then, and let's be gone.   

ACT. V. SCEN. IX.  Enter Timillus above, Jacomo below knocking. Tim. 
WHo's there?  Jac. 
'Tis I, Jacomo; we are lost if you stay this night, your Friends aboard are betrayed to the King, and the Princess that was this night to meet him is surprised in her journey by the treachery of a Soldier that they trusted; and if you attempt not your escape you are lost; your Window's large and stands upon the Haven; if you can swim, this night leap in, and I'll be ready on the shore to receive you, with dry Clothes and Horses, to convey us to our safety; if you stay you perish.  Tim. 
Nay, I can swim, but the season is somewhat too cold for that pleasure; I could be glad to have the wounds the mad Dog gave me cured without being drenched in Salt-water; but however if you'll assist me, I'll leap far enough.  Jac. 
What hour shall I expect you?  Tim. 
At Twelve.  Jac. 
Till then Farewell.  [Exit. Tim. 
There's some comfort yet, where there is a way, when leaping forth a Window can do't; Well, if I get free if ever I come into any company that think it lawful to love any woman longer than a man has use of the Sex, they shall geld me. By this hand I have lain with a hundred unsound Wenches with less danger than I have looked upon this wooing, this scurvy honourable Matrimony, which is so dangerous a thing the very standers by are not safe. I must swim but for wishing well to it; but from this time either Melintus shall quit his honourable way to his Loves, or I'll leave him to the honourable dangers.   

ACT. V. SCEN. X.  Enter Seleucus, King, Melintus, Manlius, Ravack, Appius, Philemon, Claricilla, and a Priest. Seleuc. 
STand, now Priest do your office.  [He take, Clar. by the hand Clar. 
Has this impious Traitor bound the hands of Justice, that thus she lets him proceed to mischief, and will not in her own battle strike? Must the innocent fall and none defend them?  Phil. 
Yes, fair one, and in their usual way show their power, which thus from the meanest of the earth Heaven has raised me a Guard for your Virtues.  [Philemon draws his Sword. Sel. 
Ha!  Phil. 
Who is so much a Slave that he can let this sin chain him for ever?  Man. 
How's this?  Phil. 
We that have together born our miseries, and with a harsh fate worn out our weary days, have not amongst them all met one that will lie so heavy on us as this base act if we assist the Traitor.  Rav. 
Sir, be free, and let honour only draw your Sword.  Ravack releases Appius, they draw, as Seleucus attempts Manlius sets a Dagger to his breast. Sel. 
Kill that Traitor, Slave.  Mel. 
Free the King— Fool, canst thou yet read the miseries thy hated life shall feel? Here Melintus tells thee what they are.  [Manlius undisguises himself. Sel. 
Melintus!  Mel. 
Yes, Melintus, whilst Philemon and Manlius' triumph in the Victory their Loyalty has gained over thy insulting treacheries— Sir, to you I kneel for pardon, for thus venturing to threaten dangers; all else are acquainted with the Plot we laid to discover to your abused trust this wretched Monster.  [Rav. seizes Seleuc. Clar. 
The Prince, Sir, was of Council in all we did.  Mel. 
And we have his consent, Sir, to be happy.  King. 
Of all I ask a pardon whom my doubt has injured; and I'll no longer cross your joys, you have my consent, and Heaven crown your wishes; but for thee, thy villainy shall destroy thee.  Sel. 
Madam, to your virtues which my mischiefs still have hunted thus low I bow, and when with repentant tears I have washed the way let my last breath find your faith. That I loved the rate I would have paid speaks how much; and since from him I derive these miseries, by his power which you have bowed to I beg and conjure your mercy that it may in pardon find me; and then with a wound here I'll give Balm to those under which my honour now languishes.  [He draws his Dagger. King. 
Disarm him.  Sel. 
Attempt it not.  Clar. 
Hold, I forgive.  Sel 
Can you forgive? O! this mercy has changed my opinion; I thought nothing could have made Claricilla more like an Angel: but this mercy has added to all thy beauties a heavenly form; and one wound to those that justice threatens; and thus, fair soul, 'tis fit I offer myself, though none be more unfit for sacrifice: He stabs himself .and whilst my faults expire in the blood that bred them, from Heaven only shall Seleucus beg a pity, my hate dwell with all the rest. O turn not, but look upon the ruin you have made; and while I thus gazing die, witness my Heaven, (which is Claricilla) I fall to love and scorn a Martyr.  [Dies. King 
While Justice striking let me lift a hand: Here Melintus, this I hope will cure all the wounds my unkindess gave thee; and now to Court, that when thou hast these bonds put off Hymen may new Fetters bring.  Mel 
Sir, your pardon, if I say I must not change this habit till my joys are full, and by another bond freed; this Disguise has been so fortunate that I dare not quit it while 'tis possible to miss my wishes.  King 
Take your pleasure.  Phil. 
O Madam, you have heard a story which makes me blush to look upon you.  Clar 
Philemon must not be troubled now when our joys are thus complete, but live in smiles to recount our miseries.  King 
The story how he came to be thus happy we'll reserve to crown our Feast with; Manlius, thy part in the success of this day shall not be forgotten. To the Boat, and then to the Temple, and let the Priests sing an Epithalamiumto these Lover's praise, whole faiths have turned their Chains to Myrtle and triumphant Bays.  As they go singing off the Stage, Enter Timillus with a Rope to make his Escape, hears them sing, and thence understands 'tis all joy and peace, and so speaks. Tim 
Nay, if the Wind be in that Corner I'll leap no Leaps, but thus with a Health, 
The Prayers of the Laitygive  
Give thanks for their Delivery.   
FINIS.