THE GUARDIAN, A COMICAL-HISTORY.  
As it hath been often acted at the Private-House in Blackfriars, by his late Majesty's Servants, with great Applause.  
Written by PHILIP Massinger, Gent.  
LONDON, Printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be sold at his shop at the sign of the Prince's Arms in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1655.   

PROLOGUE.  

AFter twice putting forth to Sea, his Fame  
Shipwrecked in either, and his once known Name  
In two years' silence buried, perhaps lost  
I'the general opinion; at our cost  
(A zealous sacrifice to Neptune made  
For good success in his uncertain trade)  
Our Author weighs up anchors, and once more  
Forsaking the security of the shore,  
Resolves to prove his fortune: What 'twill be,  
Is not in him, or us to prophesy;  
You only can assure us. Yet he prayed  
This little in his absence might be said,  
Designing me his Orator. He submits  
To the grave censure of those abler Wits  
His weakness; nor dares he profess that when  
The critics laugh, he'll laugh at them again.  
(Strange self-love in a writer!) He would know  
His errors as you find 'em, and bestow  
His future, studies to reform from this  
What in another might be judged amiss.  
And yet despair not, Gentlemen; though he fear  
His strengths to please, we hope that you shall hear  
Some things so writ, as you may truly say  
He hath not quite forgot to make a Play,  
As 'tis with malice rumoured: His intents  
Are fair; and though he want the compliments  
Of wide-mouthed Promisers, who still engage  
(Before their Works are brought upon the Stage)  
Their parasites to proclaim 'em: This last birth  
Delivered without noise, may yield such mirth,  
As balanced equally, will cry down the boast  
Of arrogance, and regain his credit lost.    

Dramatis Personae.  

ALphonso, King of Naples.  
General of Milain.  
Severino, a Nobleman banished.  
Monteclaro, his Brother in law, disguised.  
Durazzo, the Guardian.  
Caldoro, his Ward, in love with Caliste.  
Adorio, Beloved by Caliste.  
Camillo Neapolitan Gentlemen. Lentulo Donato  
Cario, Servant to Adorio.  
Claudio, Servant to Severino.  
Captains.  
Servants.  
Bandetti.   

Iolantre, Wife to Severino.  
Caliste, her Daughter.  
Mirtilla, Caliste's Maid.  
Calipso, the Confident of Iolantre.    

THE GUARDIAN.  

Act. I. scene. I.  Enter Durazzo, Camillo, Lentulo, and Donato; two Servants. Dur. 

TEll me of his expenses? Which of you  
Stands bound for a gazet? he spends his own;  
And you impertinent Fools, or Knaves, make choice  
Of either title, which your Signiorships please,  
To meddle in't.   Cam. 

Your age gives privilege to this harsh language.   Dur. 

My age! do not use  
That word again; if you do, I shall grow young,  
And swinge you soundly: I would have you know,  
Though I write fifty odd, I do not carry  
An Almanac in my bones to predeclare  
What weather we shall have; nor do I kneel  
In adoration at the Spring and Fall  
Before my Doctor, for a dose or two  
Of his Restoratives, which are things I take it  
You are familiar with.   Cam. 

This is from the purpose.   Dur. 

I cannot cut a caper, or groan like you  
When I have done, nor run away so nimbly  
Out of the field. But bring me to a Fence-school,  
And crack a blade or two for exercise,  
Ride a barbed horse, or take a leap after me  
Following my hounds or hawks, (and by your leave  
At a gamesome Mistress) and you shall confess  
I am in the May of my abilities,  
And you in your December.   Lent. 

We are glad you bear your years so well.   Dur. 

My years! No more of years; if you do, at your peril.   Cam. 

We desire not  
To prove your valour.   Dur. 

'Tis your safest course.   Cam. 

But as friends to your fame and reputation,  
Come to instruct you: Your too much indulgence  
To the exorbitant waste of young Caldoro  
Your Nephew and your Ward, hath rendered you  
But a bad report among wise men in Naples.   Dur. 

Wise men? in your opinion; but to me  
That understand myself and them, they are  
Hide-bounded money-mongers: they would have me  
Train up my Ward a hopeful youth, to keep  
A Merchant's book, or at the plough, and clothe him  
In Canvas or course Cotton; while I fell  
His Woods, grant Leases, which he must make good  
When he comes to age, or be compelled to marry  
With a cast whore and three bastards: Let him know  
No more than how to cipher well, or do  
His tricks by the square root; grant him no pleasure  
But Coits and Ninepins; suffer him to converse  
With none but Clowns and Cobblers, as the Turk says:  
Poverty, old age, and aches of all seasons  
Light on such heathenish Guardians:   Don. 

You do worse  
To the ruin of his state, under your favour,  
In feeding his loose riots.   Dur. 

Riots! what riots?  
He wears rich clothes, I do so; keeps horses, games, and wenches;  
'Tis not amiss, so it be done with decorum:  
In an Heir 'tis ten times more excusable  
Than to be over-thrifty. Is there ought else  
That you can charge him with?   Cam. 

With what we grieve for,  
And you will not approve.   Dur. 

Out with it, man:   Cam. 

His rash endeavour, without your consent,  
To match himself into a Family  
Not gracious with the times.   Dur. 

'Tis still the better;  
By this means he shall scape Court-visitants,  
And not be eaten out of house and home  
In a Summer-progress. But does he mean to marry?   Cam. 

Yes sir, to marry.   Dur. 

In a beardless chin  
'Tis ten times worse than wenching. Family! whose family?   Cam. 

Signior Severnio's.   Dur. 

How? not he that killed  
The brother of his wife (as it is rumoured)  
Then fled upon it; since proscribed, and chosen  
Captain of the Banditi; the Kings pardon  
On no suit to be granted?   Lent. 

The same, sir.   Dur. 

This touches near: How is his love returned  
By the Saint he worships?   Don. 

She affects him not, but dotes upon another.   Dur. 

Worse and worse.   Cam. 

You know him, young Adorio.   Dur. 

A brave Gentleman! what proof of this?   Lent. 

I dogged him to the Church;  
Where he, not for devotion, as I guess,  
But to make his approaches to his Mistress,  
Is often seen.   Cam: 

And would you stand concealed  
Among these trees, for he must pass this green,  
The matins ended, as she returns home,  
You may observe the passages.   Dur. 

I thank you; this torrent must be stopped.   Enter Adorio, Caliste, Mirtilla, Caldoro (muffled.) Don. 

They come.   Cam. 

Stand close.   Cal. 

I know I wrong my modesty.   Ador. 

And wrong me,  
In being so importunate for that  
I neither can nor must grant.   Cal. 

A hard sentence! and to increase my misery, by you  
Whom fond affection hath made my Judge,  
Pronounced without compassion. Alas sir,  
Did I approach you with unchaste desires,  
A sullied reputation; were deformed,  
As it may be I am, though many affirm  
I am something more than handsome.   Dur. 

I dare swear it.   Calist. 

Or if I were no Gentlewoman, but bred coursely,  
You might with some pretence of reason slight  
What you should sue for.   Dur. 

Were he not an Eunuch,  
He would, and sue again; I am sure I should.  
Pray look in my collar, a flea troubles me:  
Heyday! there are a legion of young Cupids  
At barley-break in my breeches.   Calist. 

Hear me sir; though you continue, nay increase your scorn,  
Only vouchsafe to let me understand  
What my defects are; of which once convinced,  
I will hereafter silence my harsh plea;  
And spare your further trouble.   Ador. 

I'll tell you, and bluntly, as my usual manner is,  
Though I were a Woman-hater, which I am not,  
But love the sex, for my ends; take me with you:  
If in my thought I found one taint or blemish  
In the whole fabric of your outward features,  
I would give myself the lie. You are a Virgin  
Possessed of all your mother could wish in you:  
Your father Severino's dire disaster  
In killing of your Uncle, which I grieve for,  
In no part taking from you. I repeat it;  
A noble Virgin, for whose grace and favours  
Th' Italian Princes might contend as Rivals;  
Yet unto me a thing far, far beneath you.  
A noted Libertine I profess myself:  
In your mind there does appear one fault so gross,  
Nay, I might say unpardonable at your years,  
If justly you consider it, that I cannot  
As you desire, affect you.   Calist. 

Make me know it, I'll soon reform it.   Ador. 

Would you would keep your word.   Cal. 

Put me to the test.   Ador. 

I will. You are too honest,  
And like your mother, too strict and religious,  
And talk too soon of marriage: I shall break,  
If at that rate I purchase you. Can I part with  
My uncurbed liberty, and on my neck  
Wear such a heavy yoke? hazard my fortunes,  
With all th'expected joys my life can yield me,  
For one commodity before I prove it?  
Venus forbid on both sides; let crooked hams,  
Bald heads, declining shoulders, furrowed cheeks  
Be awed by ceremonies: If you love me  
I'the way young people should, I'll fly to meet it,  
And we'll meet merrily.   Cal. 

'Tis strange such a man can use such language.   Ador. 

In my tongue my heart  
Speaks freely, fair one! Think upon't, a close friend  
Or private Mistress, is Court-rhetoric;  
A Wife, mere rustic Solecism. So good morrow.   Cam. 

How like you this?   Adorio offers to go, is stayed by Caldoro. Dur. 

A well-bred Gentleman!  
I am now thinking if ere in the dark,  
Or drunk I met his mother? He must have  
Some drops of my blood in him; for at his years  
I was much of his religion.   Cam. 

Out upon you!   Don. 

The colt's tooth still in your mouth?   Dur. 

What means this whispering?   Ador. 

You may perceive I seek not to displant you,  
Where you desire to grow: For further thanks,  
'Tis needless compliment.   Cal. 

There are some natures  
Which blush to owe a benefit, if not  
Received in corners; holding it an impairing  
To their own worth, should they acknowledge it.  
I am made of other clay, and therefore must  
Trench so far on your leisure, as to win you  
To lend a patient ear, while I profess  
Before my glory, though your scorn, Calist'e,  
How much I am your servant.   Ador. 

My designs are not so urgent, but they can dispense  
With so much time.   Cam. 

Pray you now observe your Nephew.   Dur. 

How he looks! like a Schoolboy that had played the Truant,  
And went to be breeched.   Cald. 

Madam!   Calist. 

A new affliction:  
Your suit offends as much as his repulse,  
It being not to be granted.   Mirt. 

Hear him Madam,  
His sorrow is not personated; he deserves  
Your pity, not contempt.   Dur. 

He has made the Maid his;  
And as the Master of the Art of Love  
Wisely affirms, it is a kind of passage  
To the mistress' favour.   Cald. 

I come not to urge  
My merit to deserve you, since you are,  
Weighed truly to your worth, above all value:  
Much less to argue you of want of judgement  
For following one that with winged feet flies from you;  
While I, at all parts (without boast) his equal,  
In vain pursue you; bringing those flames with me,  
Those lawful flames, (for Madam know, with other  
I never shall approach you) which Adorio  
In scorn of Hymen and religious rites  
With atheistical impudence contemns,  
And in his loose attempt to undermine  
The fortress of your honour, seeks to ruin  
All holy Altars by clear minds erected  
To Virgin-honor.   Dur. 

My Nephew is an ass,  
What a devil hath he to do with Virgin-honor,  
Altars, or lawful flames? when he should tell her  
They are superstitious nothings, and speak to the purpose,  
Of the delight to meet in the old dance  
Between a pair of sheets; my grandam called it  
The peopling of the world.   Calist. 

How, gentle sir? to vindicate my honour, that is needless;  
I dare not fear the worst aspersion malice  
Can throw upon it.   Cald. 

Your sweet patience, Lady, and more than  
Dovelike innocence renders you  
Insensible of an injury, for which  
I deeply suffer. Can you undergo  
The scorn of being refused? I must confess  
It makes for my ends; for had he embraced  
Your gracious offers tendered him, I had been  
In my own hopes forsaken; and if yet  
There can breathe any air of comfort in me,  
To his contempt I owe it: but his ill  
No more shall make way for my good intents,  
Then virtue powerful in herself, can need  
The aids of vice.   Ador. 

You take that licence, sir, which yet I never granted.   Cald. 

I'll force more, nor will I for mine own ends undertake it,  
As I will make apparent) but to do  
A justice to your sex, with mine own wrong  
And irrecoverable loss. To thee I turn,  
Thou goatish ribald, in whom lust is grown  
Defensible, the last descent to hell,  
Which gapes wide for thee: Look upon this Lady,  
And on her fame, (if it were possible  
Fairer than she is) and if base desires  
And beastly appetite will give thee leave,  
Consider how she sought thee, how this Lady  
In a noble way desired thee: Was she fashioned  
In an inimitable mould, (which nature broke,  
The great work perfected) to be made a slave  
To thy libidinous twines, and when commanded  
To be used as physic after drunken surfeits?  
Mankind should rise against thee: What even now  
I heard with horror, showed like blasphemy,  
And as such I will punish it.  
He strikes Adorio, the rest make in, they all draw.   Calist. 

Murder!   Mir. 

Help!   Dur. 

After a whining Prologue, who would have looked for  
Such a rough Catastrophe? Nay, come on, fear nothing:  
Never till now my Nephew. And do you hear sir,  
(And yet I love thee too) if you take the wench now  
I'll have it posted first, then chronicled,  
Thou wert beaten to't.   Ador. 

You think you have shown  
A memorable masterpiece of valour  
In doing this in public; and it may  
Perhaps deserve her shoestring for a favour:  
Wear it without my envy; but expect  
For this affront, when time serves, I shall call you  
To a strict account.   Exeunt. Dur. 

Hook on, follow him Harpies,  
You may feed upon this business for a month,  
If you manage it handsomely: when two heirs quarrel,  
The swordmen of the City shortly after  
Appear in Plush, for their grave consultations  
In taking up the difference;  
Some I know make a set living on't. Nay, let him go,  
Thou art master of the field; enjoy thy fortune  
With moderation: For a flying foe,  
Discreet and provident Conquerors build up  
A bridge of gold. To thy mistress, boy! if I were  
I'thy shirt, how I could nick it!   Cald. 

You stand, Madam, as you were rooted, and I more than fear  
My passion hath offended: I perceive  
The roses frighted from your cheeks, and paleness  
T'usurp their room; yet you may please to ascribe it  
To my excess of love, and boundless ardour  
To do you right; for myself I have done nothing.  
I will not curse my stars, howe'er assured  
To me you are lost for ever: For suppose  
Adorio slain, and by my hand, my life  
Is forfeited to the law; which I contemn,  
So with a tear or two you would remember  
I was your martyr, and died in your service.   Calist. 

Alas, you weep! and in my just compassion  
Of what you suffer, I were more than marble,  
Should I not keep you company: You have sought  
My favours nobly, and I am justly punished  
In wild Adorio's contempt and scorn  
For my ingratitude, it is no better,  
To your deservings: Yet such is my fate,  
Though I would, I cannot help it. O Caldoro!  
In our misplaced affection I prove  
Too soon, and with dear bought experience, Cupid  
Is blind indeed, and hath mistook his arrows.  
If it be possible, learn to forget:  
And yet that punishment is too light; to hate  
A thankless Virgin, practise it; and may  
Your due consideration that I am so,  
In your imagination disperse  
Loathsome deformity upon this face  
That hath bewitched you. More I cannot say,  
But that I truly pity you, and wish you  
A better choice, which in my prayers (Caldoro)  
I ever will remember.   Ex. Caliste, Mirtilla. Dur. 

'Tis a sweet rogue: why how now? thunderstruck?   Cald. 

I am not so happy: Oh that I were but master of myself,  
You soon should see me nothing.   Dur. 

What would you do?   Cald. 

With one stab give a fatal period  
To my woes and life together.   Dur. 

For a Woman! better the kind were lost, and generation maintained a new way.   Cald. 

Pray you sir forbear this profane language.   Dur. 

Pray you be you a man,  
And whimper not like a girl: All shall be well,  
As I live it shall; this is no Hectic fever,  
But a Love-sick ague easy to be cured,  
And I'll be your Physician, so you subscribe  
To my directions. First you must change  
This City whorish air, for 'tis infected,  
And my potions will not work here, I must have you  
To my Country-villa: Rise before the sun,  
Then make a breakfast of the morning-dew  
Served up by nature on some grassy hill;  
You'll find it Nectar, and far more cordial  
Than Cullises, Cock-broth, or your distillations  
Of a hundred crowns a quart.   Cald. 

You talk of nothing.   Dur. 

This ta'en as a preparative to strengthen  
Your queasy stomach, vault into your saddle;  
With all this flesh I can do it without a stirrup:  
My hounds uncoupled, and my huntsmen ready,  
You shall hear such music from their tuneable mouths  
That you will say the Viol, Harp, Theorbo,  
ne'er made such ravishing harmony, from the groves  
And neighbouring Woods, with frequent iterations,  
Enamoured of the cry, a thousand echoes  
Repeating it.   Cald. 

What's this to me?   Dur. 

It shall be, and you give thanks for't. In the afternoon  
(For we will have variety of delights)  
We'll to the field again, no game shall rise  
But we'll be ready for't; if a Hare, my Greyhounds  
Shall make a course; for the Pie or Jay, a Sparhawk  
Flies from the Fist; the Crow so near pursued,  
Shall be compelled to seek protection under  
Our Horses bellies; a Hearn put from her siege,  
And a Pistol shot off in her breech, shall mount  
So high, that to your view she'll seem to soar  
Above the middle Region of the Air.  
A cast of Haggard Falcons, by me maned,  
Eyeing the prey at first, appear as if  
They did turn tail, but with their laboring wings  
Getting above her, with a thought their pinions  
Cleaving the purer Element, make in,  
And by turns bind with her; the frighted Fowl,  
Lying at her defence upon her back,  
With her dreadful Beak, a while defers her death,  
But by degrees forced down, we part the fray  
And feast upon her.   Cald. 

This cannot be, I grant, but pretty pastime,   Dur. 

Pretty pastime, Nephew!  
'Tis royal sport, then for an Evening flight  
A Tercel gentle, which I call my Masters,  
As he were sent a Messenger to the Moon,  
In such a place flies, as he seems to say,  
See me, or see me not, the Partridge sprung,  
He makes his stoop; but wanting breath, is forced  
To canceleer, then with such speed, as if  
He carried Lightning in his Wings, he strikes  
The trembling Bird; who even in death appears  
Proud to be made his quarry.   Cald. 

Yet all this, is nothing to Caliste.   Dur. 

Thou shalt find twenty Calistes there, for every night  
A fresh, and lusty one; I'll give thee a Ticket,  
In which my name, Durazzo's name subscribed,  
My Tenants Nutbrown daughters, wholesome Girls,  
At midnight shall contend to do thee service.  
I have bred them up to't; should their Father's murmur,  
Their Leases are void; for that is a main point  
In my Indentures: And when we make our progress  
There is no entertainment perfect, if  
This last dish be not offered.   Cald. 

You make me smile.   Dur. 

I'll make thee laugh outright. My horses, knaves!  
'Tis but six short hours' riding: yet ere night  
Thou shalt be an altered man.   Cald. 

I wish I may, sir.   Exeunt: Enter Jolante, Caliste, Calypso, Mirtilla. Jol. 

I had spies upon you Minion; the relation  
Of your behaviour was at home before you:  
My daughter to hold parley, from the Church too,  
With noted Libertines? her fame and favours  
The quarrel of their swords?   Calist. 

'Twas not in me to help it, Madam.   Jol. 

No? how have I lived?  
My neighbour knows my manners have been such,  
That I presume I may affirm, and boldly,  
In no particular action of my life  
I can be justly censured.   Calyp. 

Censured, Madam? what Lord or Lady lives, worthy to sit  
A competent Judge on you?   Calist. 

Yet black detraction will find faults where they are not.   Calyp. 

Her foul mouth  
Is stopped, you being the object: Give me leave  
To speak my thoughts, yet still under correction;  
And if my young Lady and her woman here,  
With reverence they may be edified.  
You are my gracious Patroness and supportress,  
And I your poor observer, nay your creature  
Fed by your bounties; and but that I know  
Your Honour detests flattery, I might say  
(And with an emphasis) You are the Lady  
Admired and envied at, far, far above  
All imitation of the best of women  
That are or ever shall be. This is truth:  
I dare not be obsequious; and 'twould ill  
Become my gravity, and wisdom gleaned  
From your oraculous Ladyship, to act  
The part of a she-parasite   Jol. 

If you do, I never shall acknowledge you   Calist. 

Admirable! this is no flattery.   Mirt. 

'Do not interrupt her:  
'Tis such a pleasing itch to your Lady-mother,  
That she may peradventure forget us,  
To feed on her own praises.   Jol. 

I am not so far in debt to age, but if I would  
Listen to men's bewitching sorceries,  
I could be courted.   Calyp. 

Rest secure of that; all the Braveries of the City run mad for you,  
And yet your virtue's such, not one attempts you.   Jol. 

I keep no mankind servant in my house,  
In fear my chastity may be suspected:  
How is that voiced in Naples?   Calyp. 

With loud applause, I assure your Honour.   Jol. 

It confirms I can command my sensual appetites.   Calyp. 

As vassals to your more than masculine reason that commands 'em:  
Your palace styled a Nunnery of pureness,  
In which not one lascivious thought dares enter,  
Your clear soul standing Sentinel.   Mirt. 

Well said, Echo.   Jol. 

Yet I have tasted those delights which women  
So greedily long for, know their titillations;  
And when with danger of his head thy father  
Comes to give comfort to my widowed sheets,  
As soon as his desires are satisfied,  
I can with ease forget 'em.   Calyp. 

Observe that,  
It being indeed remarkable: 'tis nothing  
For a simple Maid that never had her hand  
In the honeypot of pleasure, to forbear it;  
But such as have licked there, and licked there often,  
And felt the sweetness of't.—   Mirt. 

How her mouth runs over with rank imagination!   Calyp. 

If such can,  
As I urged before, the kickshaw being offered  
Refuse to take it, like my matchless Madam,  
They may be Sainted.   Jol. 

I'll lose no more breath  
In fruitless reprehension; look to't,  
I'll have thee wear this habit of my mind,  
As of my body.   Calyp. 

Seek no other precedent:  
In all the books of Amadis de Gaul,  
The Palmerins, and that true Spanish story  
The Mirror of Knighthood, which I have read often,  
Read feelingly, nay more, I do believe in't  
My Lady has no parallel.   Jol. 

Do not provoke me.  
If from this minute, thou ere stir abroad,  
Write Letter or receive one, or presume  
To look upon a man, though from a Window,  
I'll chain thee like a slave in some dark corner;  
Proscribe thy daily labour: Which omitted,  
Expect the usage of a Fury from me,  
Not an indulgent Mothers, Come Calypso.   Calyp. 

Your ladyship's injunctions are so easy,  
That I dare pawn my credit, my young Lady  
And her woman shall obey.   Exeunt Jol. Calyp. Mirtil. 

You shall fry first  
For a rotten piece of dry Touchwood, and give fire  
To the great Fiend's Nostrils, when he smokes Tobacco.  
Note the injustice Madam; they would have us  
Being young and hungry, keep a perpetual Lent,  
And the whole year to them a carnival.  
Easy injunctions, with a mischief to you:  
Suffer this, and suffer all.   Caliste. 

Not stir abroad!  
The use and pleasure of our eyes denied us?   Mirt. 

Insufferable.   Cal. 

Nor write, nor yet receive an amorous Letter!   Mirt: 

Not to be endured.   Cal. 

Nor look upon a man out of a window.   Mirt. 

Flat tyranny, insupportable tyranny  
To a Lady of your Blood.   Cal. 

She is my Mother, & how I should decline it?   Mirt. 

Run away from't, take any course,   Cal. 

But without means Mirtilla, how shall we live?   Mirt. 

What a question's that; as if  
A buxom Lady could want maintenance  
In any place in the World, where there are Men,  
Wine, Meat, or Money stirring.   Cal. 

Be you more modest,  
Or seek some other Mistress: Rather then  
In a thought or dream, I will consent to aught  
That may take from my honour, I'll endure  
More than my Mother can impose upon me.   Mirt. 

I grant your honour is a specious dressing,  
But without conversation of men,  
A kind of nothing; I will not persuade you  
To disobedience: Yet my Confessor told me  
(And he you know is held a learned Clerk)  
When Parents do enjoin unnatural things,  
Wise Children may evade 'em. She may as well  
Command when you are hungry, not to eat,  
Or drink, or sleep; and yet all these are easy  
Compared with the not seeing of a man,  
As I persuade no farther, but to you  
There is no such necessity; you have means  
To shun your Mother's rigor.   Cal. 

Lawful means?   Mirt. 

Lawful, and pleasing too, I will not urge  
Caldoro's loyal love, you being averse to't,  
Make trial of Adorio.   Cal. 

And give up my honour to his lust.   Mirt. 

There's no such thing  
Intended, Madam; in few words write to him  
What slavish hours you spend under your Mother,  
That you desire not present marriage from him,  
But as a noble Gentleman to redeem you  
From the tyranny you suffer. With your Letter  
Present him some rich Jewel; you have one,  
In which the Rape of Proserpine, in little  
Is to the life expressed. I'll be the Messenger  
With any hazard, and at my return,  
Yield you a good account of't.   Galist. 

'Tis a business to be considered of.   Mirt. 

Consideration, when the converse of your  
Lover is in question,  
Is of no moment: If she would allow you  
A Dancer in the morning to well breathe you,  
A Songster in the afternoon, a Servant  
To air you in the evening; give you leave  
To see the Theater twice a week, to mark  
How the old actor's decay, the young sprout up,  
A fitting observation, you might bear it;  
But not to see, or talk, or touch a man,  
Abominable!   Galist. 

Do not my blushes speak  
How willingly I would assent?   Mirt: 

Sweet Lady,  
Do something to deserve 'em, and blush after.   Exeunt.  

Act. 2. Scaen. 1.  Enter Jolante, Calypso. Jol. 

ANd are these Frenchmen, as you say, such Gallants?   Calyp. 

Gallant and active; their free breeding knows not  
The Spanish and Italian preciseness  
Practised among us. What we call immodest,  
With them is styled bold Courtship: they dare fight  
Under a Veivet-Ensign at fourteen.   Jol. 

A Petticoat you mean.   Calyp. 

You are i'the right;  
Let a Mistress wear it under an armour of proof,  
They are not to be beaten off.   Jol. 

You are merry Neighbour.   Calyp. 

I fool to make you so, pray you observe 'em.  
They are the forwardest Monsieurs; born Physicians  
For the malady of young Wenches, and ne'er miss,  
I owe my life to one of 'em, when I was  
A raw young thing, not worth the ground I trod on;  
And longed to dip my Bread in Tar, my Lips  
As blue as Salt-water, he came up roundly to me,  
And cured me in an instant, Venus be praised for't.   Enter Alphonso, General, Monteclaro, Attendants, and Captain. Jol. 

They come, leave prating.   Col. 

I am dumb, an't like your honour.   Alph. 

We will not break the league confirmed between us,  
And your great Master; the passage of his Army  
Through all our Territories, lies open to him;  
Only we grieve that your design for Rome  
Commands such haste, as it denies us means  
To entertain you, as your worth deserves,  
And we would gladly tender.   Gen. 

Royal Alphonso, the King my Master, your confederate,  
Will pay the debt he owes, in Fact, which I  
Want words t'express; I must remove tonight,  
And yet, that your intended favours may not  
Be lost, I leave this Gentleman behind me,  
To whom you may vouchsafe 'em; I dare say  
Without Repentance. I for bear to give  
Your Majesty his character; in France  
He was a precedent for Arts and Arms  
Alphonso receives Monteclaro  
Without a rival, & may prove in Naples  
Worthy thy imitation,   Calyp. 

Is he not Madam  
A Monsieur in print? What a garb was there? O rare!  
Then how he wears his clothes, and the fashion of 'em.  
A main assurance that he is within  
All excellent: By this, wise Ladies ever  
Make their conjectures.   Jol. 

Peace, I have observed him  
From head to foot.   Calyp. 

Eye him again, all over.   Monte. 

It cannot royal Sir, but argue me  
Of much presumption, if not impudence,  
To be a suitor to your Majesty,  
Before I have deserved a gracious grant,  
By some employment prosperously achieved.  
But pardon gracious Sir: when I left France  
I made a vow to a bosom Friend of mine  
(Which my Lord General, if he please, can witness)  
With such humility, as well becomes  
A poor Petitioner to desire a Boon He delivers a Petition.  
From your magnificence.   Calyp. 

With what punctual form he does deliver it.   Jol. 

I have eyes; no more.   Alph. 

For Severino's pardon, you must excuse me,  
I dare not pardon murder:   Monte. 

His fact Sir, ever submitting to your abler judgement,  
Merits a fairer name: He was provoked,  
As by unanswerable proofs it is confirmed,  
By Monteclaro's rashness; who repining  
That Severino, without his consent,  
Had married Jolante his sole sister  
(It being concealed almost for thirteen years)  
Though the Gentleman, at all parts, was his equal,  
First challenged him, and that declined, he gave him  
A blow in public.   Gen. 

Not to be endured, but by a slave.   Monte. 

This, great Sir, justly weighed,  
You may a little, if you please, take from  
The rigor of your Justice, and express  
An act of mercy.   Jol. 

I can hear no more,  
This opens an old wound, and makes a new one.  
Would it were cicatrised, wait me.   Calyp. 

As your shadow.   Exeunt Jol. Calyp. Alph. 

We grant you these are glorious pretences,  
Revenge appearing in the shape of valour,  
Which wise Kings must distinguish. The defence  
Of Reputation, now made a Bawd  
To murder; every trifle falsely styled  
An injury, and not to be determined  
But by a bloody Duel; though this vice  
Hath taken root and growth beyond the Mountains  
(As France, and in strange fashions her Ape  
England can dearly witness, with the loss  
Of more brave spirits, then would have stood the shock  
Of the Turk's army) while Alphonso lives  
It shall not here be planted: Move me no further  
In this. In what else suiting you to ask,  
And me to give, expect a gracious answer,  
however welcome to our Court, Lord General,  
I'll bring you out of the Ports, and then betake you  
To your good fortune.   Gen 

Your Grace overwhelms me.   Exeunt. Enter Calypso, and Jolante (with a Purse and a Jewel) Calyp. 

You are bound to favour him: Mark you how he pleaded  
For my Lords pardon.   Jol. 

That's indeed a tie; but I have a stronger on me.   Calyp. 

Say you love  
His person, be not ashamed of't, he's a man;  
For whose embraces though Endymion  
Lay sleeping by, Cinthia would leave her orb,  
And exchange kisses with him.   Jol. 

Do not Fan  
A fire that burns already too hot in me,  
I am in my honour sick, sick to the death,  
Never to be recovered.   Calyp. 

What a coil's here  
For loving a man? It is no Afrique wonder,  
If like Pasiphae you doted on a Bull,  
Indeed't were monstrous: but in this you have  
A thousand thousand precedents to excuse you.  
A seaman's wife may ask relief of her Neighbour  
When her husbands bound to the Indies, and not blamed for't;  
And many more besides of higher calling,  
Though I forbear to name'em: You have a husband,  
But as the case stands with my Lord, he is  
A kind of no husband; and your Ladyship  
As free as a widow can be. I confess  
If Ladies should seek change, that have their husbands  
At Board and Bed, to pay their marriage duties,  
The surest bond of concord, 'twere a fault,  
Indeed it were: But for your honour that  
Do lie alone so often, Body of me,  
I am zealous in your cause; let me take breath   Jol. 

I apprehend what thou wouldst say: I want all  
As means to quench the spurious fire that burns here.   Calyp. 

Want meanwhile I your Creature live?  
I dare not  
Be so unthankful.   Jol. 

Wilt thou undertake it,  
And as an earnest of much more to come  
Receive this Jewel, and Purse crammed full of Crowns,  
How dearly I am forced to buy dishonour.   Calyp. 

I would do it gratis, but 'twould ill become  
My breeding to refuse your honour's bounty,  
Nay, say no more, all Rhetoric in this  
Is comprehended; let me alone to work him,  
He shall be yours; that's poor, he is already  
At your devotion I will not boast  
My faculties this way, but suppose he were  
Coy as Adonis, or Hippolytus,  
And your desires more hot than Citherea's,  
Or wanton Phaedra's, I will bring him chained  
To your embraces, glorying in his Fetters. I have said it.   Jol. 

Go and prosper, and imagine a salary beyond thy hopes.   Calyp. 

Sleep you  
Secure on either ear, the burdens yours  
To entertain him, mine to bring him hither.   Exeunt. Enter Adorio, Camillo, Lentulo, Donato. Don. 

Your wrong's beyond a challenge, and you deal  
To fairly with him, if you take that way  
To right yourself.   Lent. 

The least that you can do  
I'th' terms of honour is, when next you meet him  
To give him the bastinado.   Cam. 

And that done,  
Draw out his Sword to cut your own throat. No,  
Be ruled by me, show yourself an Italian,  
And having received one injury, do not put off  
Your Hat for a second; there are fellows that  
For a few crowns will make him sure, and so  
With your revenge, you prevent future mischief.   Ador. 

I thank you Gentlemen for your studied care  
In what concerns my honour; but in that  
I'll steer mine own course, yet that you may know  
You are still my Cabinet counsellors, my bosom  
Lies open to you. I begin to feel  
A weariness, nay, satiety of looseness,  
And something tells me here, I should repent  
My harshness to Caliste.   Enter Cario (in haste.) Cam. 

When you please, you may remove that scruple.   Ador. 

I shall think on't.   Car. 

Sir, Sir, are you ready?   Ador. 

To do what? I am sure 'tis not yet dinner time.   Car. 

True; but I usher  
Such an unexpected dainty bit for breakfast,  
As yet I never cooked? 'tis not Potargo,  
fried Frogs, potatoes Marrowed, Caviar,  
Carps Tongues, the Pith of an English Chine of Beef,  
Nor our Italian delicate Oiled Mushrooms,  
And yet a drawer on too; and if you show not  
An appetite, and a strong one; I'll not say  
To eat it, but devour it, without grace too,  
For it will not stay a Preface. I am shamed,  
And all my past provocatives will be jeered at.   Ador. 

Art thou in thy wits? what new found rarity  
Hast thou discovered?   Car. 

No such matter Sir; it grows in our own  
Country.   Don. 

Serve it up,  
I feel a kind of stomach.   Cam. 

I could feed too.   Car. 

Not a bit upon a march; there's other lettuce  
For your course Lips; this is peculiar only  
For my Master's palate, I would give my whole years' wages  
With all my vails, and fees due to the Kitchen,  
But to be his Carver.   Ador. 

Leave your fooling Sirrah, and bring in your dainty.   Car. 

I will bring in itself,  
It has life and spirit in it, and for proof,  
Behold: Now fall to boldly, my life on't  
It comes to be tasted.   Enter Mirtilla (with Letter and Jewel.) Cam. 

Ha! caliste's Woman.   Lent. 

A handsome one by Venus.   Ador. 

Pray you for bear,  
You are welcome fair one.   Don. 

How that blush becomes her.   Ador. 

Aim your designs at me?   Mirt: 

I'm trusted Sir  
With a business of near consequence, which I would  
To your private ear deliver:   Car. 

I told you so.  
Give her audience on your Couch, it is fit state  
To a she Ambassador.   Ador. 

Pray you Gentlemen  
For a while dispose of yourselves, I'll straight attend you.   Exit. Car. 

Dispatch her first for your honour, the quickly doing,  
You know what follows.   Ador. 

Will you please to vanish   Exit Cario. 

Now pretty one, your pleasure; you shall find me  
Ready to serve you, if you'll put me to  
My Oath, I'll take it on this Book.   Mirt. 

O Sir, the favour is too great, and far above  
My poor ambition, I must kiss your hand  
In sign of humble thankfulness.   Ador. 

So more modest.   Mirt. 

It well becomes a Maid, Sir, spare those blessings  
For my noble Mistress, upon whom with Justice,  
And with your good allowance, I might add  
With a due gratitude: you may confer 'em,  
But this will better speak her chaste desires Delivers the Letter.  
Then I can fancy what they are, much less  
With moving language to their fair deserts  
Aptly express 'em. Pray you read, but with  
Compassion, I beseech you: if you find  
The Paper blurred with tears fallen from her eyes,  
While she endeavoured to set down that truth  
Her Soul did dictate to her, it must challenge  
A gracious answer.   Ador. 

O the powerful charms!  
By that fair hand writ down here; not like those  
Which dreadfully pronounced by Circe, changed  
Ulysses followers into Beasts; these have  
An opposite working, I already feel  
But reading 'em, their saving operations,  
And all those sensual, loose, and base desires  
Which have too long usurped, and tyrannised  
Over my Reason, of themselves fall of  
Most happy Metamorphosis! in which  
The film of Error that did blind my Judgement  
And seduced Understanding, is removed:  
What Sacrifice of Thanks can I return  
Her pious Charity, that not alone  
Redeems me from the worst of slavery,  
The tyranny of my beastly appetites;  
To which, I long obsequiously have bowed,  
But adds a matchless favour to receive  
A benefit from me, nay, puts her Goodness  
In my protection.   Mirt. 

Transformed? it is Aside.  
A blessed Metamorphosis, and works  
I know not how on me:   Ador. 

My joys are boundless,  
curbed with no limits; for her sake, Mirtilla,  
Instruct me how I presently may seal  
To those strong bonds of loyal love, and service  
Which never shall be canceled.   Mirt. 

She'll become your debtor Sir, if you vouchsafe to answer  
Her pure affection.   Ador. 

Answer it Mirtilla; with more than adoration I kneel to it.  
Tell her I'll rather die a thousand deaths,  
Then fail with punctuality to perform  
All her commands.   Mirt. 

I am lost on this assurance,  
(Which if 'twere made to me, I should have faith in't, Aside.  
As in an Oracle. Ah me) she presents you  
This Jewel, her dead grandsire's gift, in which,  
As by a true Egyptian hieroglyphic,  
(For so I think she called it) you may be  
Instructed what her suit is, you should do,  
And she with joy will suffer.   Ador. 

Heaven be pleased to qualify this excess of happiness  
With some disaster, or I shall expire  
With a surfeit of Felicity, with what art  
The cunning Lapidary hath here expressed  
The rape of Proserpine, I apprehend  
Her purpose, and obey it, yet not as  
A helping Friend, but a Husband, I will meet  
Her chaste desires with lawful heat, and warm  
Our Hymenaeal sheets with such delights  
As leave no sting behind 'em.   Mirt. 

I despair then. Aside.   Ador. 

At the time appointed, say wench, I'll attend her,  
And guard her from the fury of her Mother,  
And all that dare disturb her.   Mirt. 

You speak well, and I believe you.   Ador. 

Would you ought else.   Mirt. 

I would carry some love sign to her; and now I think on't,  
The kind salute you offered at my entrance,  
Hold it not impudence that I desire it,  
I'll faithfully deliver it.   Ador. 

O a kiss, you must excuse me, I was then mine own,  
Now wholly hers: The touch of other Lips  
I do abjure for ever; but there's Gold  
To bind thee still my advocate.   Exit. Mirt. 

Not a kiss? I was coy when it was offered, and now justly  
When I beg one am denied, what scorching fires  
My loose hopes kindle in me? Shall I be  
False to my lady's trust? and from a servant  
Rise up her rival? His words have bewitched me,  
And something I must do, but what? 'tis yet  
An embryon, and how to give it form  
Alas I know not, pardon me, Caliste,  
I am nearest to myself, and time will teach me  
To perfect that which yet is undetermined.   Exit. Enter Claudio and Severino. Claud. 

You are Master of yourself, yet if I may  
As a tried Friend in my love and affection,  
And a servant in my duty speak my thoughts,  
Without offence? i'th' way of counsel to you,  
I could allege, and truly that your purpose  
For Naples covered with a thin disguise  
Is full of danger.   Sever. 

Danger Claudio?  
'Tis here, and everywhere our forced companion,  
The rising and the setting Sun, beholds us  
Environed with it; our whole life a journey  
Ending in certain ruin.   Claud. 

Yet we should not, howe'er besieged, deliver up our Fort  
Of life, till it be forced.   Sever. 

'Tis so indeed by wisest men concluded, which we should  
Obey as Christians; but when I consider  
How different the progress of our actions  
Are from Religion, nay, Morality,  
I cannot find in Reason, why we should  
Be scrupulous that way only, or like meteor's  
Blaze forth prodigious terrors, till our stuff  
Be utterly consumed, which once put out,  
Would bring security unto ourselves,  
And safety unto those we prey upon.  
O Claudio: since by this fatal hand  
The brother of my wife, bold Monteclaro,  
Was left dead in the field, and I proscribed  
After my flight, by the justice of the King,  
My being hath been but a living death  
With a continued torture.   Claud. 

Yet in that you do delude their bloody violence  
That do pursue your life.   Sever. 

While I by rapines live terrible to others as myself,  
What one hour can we challenge as our own  
(Unhappy as we are) yielding a beam  
Of comfort to us? Quiet night that brings  
Rest to the labourer, is the Outlaws day,  
In which he rises early to do wrong,  
And when his work is ended, dares not sleep:  
Our time is spent in watches to entrap  
Such as would shun us, and to hide ourselves  
From the Ministers of Justice, that would bring us  
To the correction of the Law. O Claudio,  
Is this a life to be preserved? and at  
So dear a rate? But why hold I discourse  
On this sad subject? since it is a burden  
We are marked to bear, and not to be shook off  
But with our humane frailty. In the change  
Of dangers there is some delight, and therefore  
I am resolved for Naples.   Claud. 

May you meet there  
All comforts that so fair and chaste a wife  
(As fame proclaims her without parallel)  
Can yield to ease your sorrows.   Sever. 

I much thank you;  
Yet you may spare those wishes, which with joy  
I have proved certainties, and from their want  
Her excellencies take lustre.   Claud. 

Ere you go yet,  
Some charge unto your Squires not to fly out  
Beyond their bounds, were not impertinent:  
For though that with a look you can command 'em,  
In your absence they'll be headstrong   Sever. 

'Tis well thought on,  
I'll touch my horn, they know my call, Blows his horn.   Claud. 

And will, as soon as heard, make in to't from all quarters,  
As the flock to the shepherd's whistle.   Enter six Banditi. 



1: What's your will?  
2. Hail Sovereign of these Woods.  
3. We lay our lives at your highness' feet.  
4. And will confess no King,    
Nor Laws, but what come from your mouth; and those  
We gladly will subscribe to:   Sever. 

Make this good  
In my absence to my substitute, to whom  
Pay all obedience as to myself:  
The breach of this in one particular  
I will severely punish; on your lives  
Remember upon whom with our allowance  
You may securely pray, with such as are  
Exempted from your fury.   Claud. 

'Twere not amiss,  
If you please, to help their memory; besides,  
Here are some newly initiated.   Sever. 

To these read you the Articles: I must be gone;  
Claudio, farewell,   Claud. 

May your return be speedy.   Ex. Sever 



1. Silence; out with your Table-books.  
2. And observe.     Claud. 

The Cormorant that lives in expectation  
Of a long wished for dearth, and smiling grinds  
The faces of the poor, you may make spoil of;  
Even theft to such is Justice.  


3. He's in my Tables.     Claud. 

The grand encloser of the Commons, for  
His private profit, or delight, withal  
His Herds that graze upon't are lawful prize,  


4. And we will bring'em in, although the devil    
Stood roaring by, to guard'em.   Claud. 

If a Usurer,  
Greedy at his own price, to make a purchase,  
Taking advantage upon Bond, or Mortgage,  
From a Prodigal, pass through our Territories,  
I'the way of custom, or of tribute to us,  
You may ease him of his burden.  


2. Wholesome doctrine.    
Claud Builders of Iron Mills, that grub up Forests,  
With Timber Trees for shipping.  


1. May we not have a touch at Lawyers:     Claud. 

By no means; they may  
To soon have a gripe at us; they are angry Hornets,  
Not to be jested with.  


3. This is not so well:     Claud. 

The owners of dark shops that vent their wares  
With Perjuries; cheating Vintners not contented  
With half in half in their reckonings, yet cry out  
When they find their guests want coin, 'tis late, and Bedtime;  
These ransack at your pleasures.  


3. How shall we know'em.     Claud. 

If they walk on foot by their Rat-coloured stockings,  
And shining shoes. If Horsemen by short Boots,  
And riding furniture of several Counties.  


2. Not one of the List escapes us.     Claud. 

But for Scholars,  
Whose wealth lies in their heads, & not their pockets,  
Soldiers that have bled in their country's service,  
The Rent-racked Farmer, needy Market folks,  
The sweaty labourer; Carriers that transport  
The goods of other men, are privileged;  
But above all, let none presume to offer  
Violence to women, for our King hath sworn,  
Who that way's a Delinquent; without mercy  
Hangs for't by Marshal law.   Omnes. 

Long live Severino.  
And perish all such cullions as repine at his new Monarchy.   Claud. 

About your business,  
That he may find at his return good cause  
To praise your care and discipline.   Omnes. 

We'll not fail Sir.   Exeunt. Enter Monteclaro and Calypso. Mont. 

Thou art sure mistaken, 'tis not possible  
That I can be the man thou art employed too.   Calyp. 

Not you the man? you are the man of men,  
And such another in my Lady's eye,  
Never to be discovered.   Mont. 

A mere stranger newly arrived?   Calyp. 

Still the more probable,  
Since Ladies, as you know, affect strange dainties,  
And brought far to 'em. This is not an age  
In which Saints live; but women, knowing women,  
That understand their Summum bonum, is  
Variety of pleasures in the touch,  
Derived from several Nations; and if men  
Would be wise by their example.   Mont. 

As most are. 'Tis a coupling age!   Calyp. 

Why sir, do Gallants travel?  
Answer that question; but at their return  
With wonder to the hearers, to discourse of  
The garb and difference in foreign Females.  
As the lusty Girl of France, the sober German,  
The plump Dutch Fro, the stately Dame of Spain,  
The Roman Libertine, and spriteful Tuscan,  
The merry Greek, Venetian Courtesan,  
The English fair Companion, that learns something  
From every Nation, and will fly at all.  
I say again the difference betwixt these  
And their own Country Gamesters.   Mont. 

Aptly urged.  
Some make that their main end; but may I ask  
Without offence to your gravity, By what title  
Your Lady that invites me to her favours,  
Is known in the City.   Galyp. 

If you were a true born Monsieur,  
You would do the business first, and ask that after.  
If you only truck with her title, I shall hardly  
Deserve thanks for my travel; she is Sir  
No single Ducat trader, nor a Beldame  
So frozen up, that a Fever cannot thaw her.  
No Lioness by her breath.   Mont. 

Leave these impertinencies, and come to the matter.   Calyp. 

Would you wooed be as forward  
When you draw for the upshot, she is Sir a Lady,  
A rich, fair, well-complexioned, and what is  
Not frequent among Venus' Votaries,  
Upon my credit, which good men have trusted;  
A sound and wholesome Lady, and her name is  
Madonna Jolante.   Mont. 

Jolante. I have heard of her, for chastity, and beauty;  
The wonder of the age.   Calyp. 

Pray you not too much,  
Of chastity, fair, and free I do subscribe too,  
And so you'll find her.   Mont. 

Come you're a base Creature,  
And covering your foul ends with her fair name,  
Give me just reason, to suspect you have  
A plot upon my life.   Calyp. 

A plot! Very fine!  
Nay, 'tis a dangerous one, pray you beware of't,  
'Tis cunningly contrived, I plot to bring you  
A foot with the travel of some forty paces,  
To those delights, which a man not made of Snow,  
Would ride a thousand miles for. You shall be  
Received at a Postern door, if you be not cautious,  
By one whose touch would make old Nestor young,  
And cure his Hernia? A terrible plot!  
A kiss then ravished from you by such Lips  
As flow with Nectar, a Juicy-palm more precious  
Than the famed Sibilla's Bough to guide you safe  
Through Mists of perfumes to a glorious room,  
Where Jove might feast his Juno, a dire plot,  
A Banquet I'll not mention, that is common;  
But I must not forget to make the plot  
More horrid to you. The retiring bower  
So furnished, as might force the Persians envy,  
The Silver bathing Tub, the cambric rubbers,  
Th'embroidered Quilt, a Bed of gossamer,  
And Damask Roses, a mere Powder plot  
To blow you up; and last, a Bedfellow,  
To whose rare entertainment all these are  
But foils, and settings off.   Mont. 

No more, her breath would warm an  
eunuch.   Calyp. 

I knew I should heat you; now he begins to glow.   Mont. 

I am flesh and blood,  
And I were not man, if I should not run the hazard,  
Had I no other ends in't, I have considered  
Your motion, Matron.   Calyp. 

My Plot Sir on your life,  
For which, I am deservedly suspected  
For a base and dangerous woman. Fare you well Sir,  
I'll be bold to take my leave.   Mont: 

I will along too.  
Come pardon my suspicion, I confess  
My Error; and eyeing you better, I perceive  
There's nothing that is ill that can flow from you.  
I am serious, and for proof of it I'll purchase  
Your good opinion.   Calyp. 

I am gently natured,  
And can forget a greater wrong upon  
Such terms of satisfaction.   Mont. 

What's the hour.   Calyp. 

Twelve.   Mont. 

I'll not miss a minute.   Calyp. 

I shall find you at your lodging?   Mont. 

Certainly, return my service,  
And for me kiss your lady's hands.   Calyp. 

At twelve, I'll be your convoy.   Mont. 

I desire no better.   Exeunt.  

Act. 3. Scaen. 1.  Enter Durazzo, Caldoro, Servant. Dur. 

WAlk the Horses down the Hill, I have a little  
To speak in private.   Cald. 

Good Sir, no more anger.   Duraz. 

Love do you call it? Madness, wilful Madness;  
And since I cannot cure it, I would have you  
Exactly mad. You are a lover already,  
Be a drunkard too, and after turn small Poet,  
And than you are mad Katexikene, the Madman.   Cald. 

Such as are safe on shore, may smile at tempests,  
But I that am embarked, and every minute  
Expect a shipwreck, relish not your mirth;  
To me it is unseasonable.   Duraz 

Pleasing Viands, are made sharp by sick palates. I affect  
A handsome Mistress in my grey Beard, as well  
As any Boy of you all; and on good terms  
Will venture as far i'th' fire, so she be willing  
To entertain me; but ere I would dote  
As you do, where there is no flattering hope  
Ever t'enjoy her, I would forswear Wine,  
And kill this lecherous Itch with drinking Water,  
Or live like a Carthusian on Poor-John,  
Then bathe myself, night by night, in marble dew,  
And use no Soap but Camphir-Balls.   Cald. 

You may (and I must suffer it) like a rough Surgeon,  
Apply these burning caustics to my wounds  
Already gangrened, when soft unguents would  
Better express an Uncle, with some feeling  
Of his nephew's torments.   Duraz. 

I shall melt, and cannot  
Hold out if he whimper. O that this young fellow,  
Who on my knowledge is able to beat a man,  
Should be baffled by this blind imagined-boy,  
Or fear his Bird-bolts.   Cald. 

You've put yourself already  
To too much trouble in bringing me thus far:  
Now if you please, with your good wishes leave me  
To my hard fortunes.   Dur. 

I'll forsake myself first.  
Leave thee? I cannot, will not; thou shalt have  
No cause to be weary of my company,  
For I'll be useful, and ere I see thee perish,  
Dispensing with my dignity and candour,  
I will do something for thee, though it savour  
Of the old Squire of Troy. As we ride, we will  
Consult of the means: Bear up.   Cal. 

I cannot sink,  
Having your noble aids to buoy me up;  
There was never such such a Guardian.   Dur. 

How's this? stale compliments to me? when my work's done,  
Commend th'artificer, and then be thankful.   Exeunt. Enter Caliste (richly habited) and Mirtilla (in her first gown.) Cal. 

How dost thou like my gown?   Mirt. 

'Tis rich and Courtlike.   Cal. 

The dressings too are suitable?   Mir. 

I must say so, or you might blame my want of care.   Cal. 

My mother  
Little dreams of my intended flight, or that  
These are my nuptial ornaments.   Mir. 

I hope so.   Cal. 

How dully thou repliest! thou dost not envy  
Adorio's noble change, or the good fortune  
That it brings to me?   Mir. 

My endeavours that way can answer for me.   Cal 

True, you have discharged  
A faithful servant's duty, and it is  
By me rewarded like a liberal Mistress:  
I speak it not to upbraid you with my bounties,  
Though they deserve more thanks and ceremony  
Than you have yet expressed.   Mir. 

The miseries which from your happiness I am sure to suffer,  
Restrain my forward tongue; and gentle Madam,  
Excuse my weakness, though I do appear  
A little daunted with the heavy burden  
I am to undergo: when you are safe,  
My dangers like to roaring torrents will  
Gush in upon me; yet I would endure  
Your mother's cruelty; but how to bear  
Your absence, in the very thought confounds me:  
Since we were children, I have loved and served you;  
I willingly learned to obey, as you  
Grew up to knowledge, that you might command me;  
And now to be divorced from all my comforts,  
Can this be borne with patience?   Cal. 

The necessity of my strange fate commands it; but I vow  
By my Adorio's love, I pity thee.   Cal. 

Pity me, Madam! a cold charity;  
You must do more, and help me.   Cal. 

Ha! what said you?  
I must? is this fit language for a servant?   Mir. 

For one that would continue your poor servant,  
And cannot live that day in which she is  
Denied to be so: Can Mirtilla sit  
Mourning alone, imagining those pleasures  
Which you this blessed Hymeneal night  
Enjoy in the embraces of your Lord,  
And my Lord too in being yours, (already  
As such I love and honour him) shall a stranger  
Sew you in a sheet to guard that maidenhead  
You must pretend to keep, (and 'twill become you.)  
Shall another do those bridal offices  
Which time will not permit me to remember,  
And I pine here with envy? Pardon me,  
I must and will be pardoned, for my passions  
Are in extremes, and use some speedy means  
That I may go along with you, and share  
In those delights, but with becoming distance;  
Or by his life, which as a Saint you swear by,  
I will discover all.   Calist. 

Thou canst not be  
So treacherous and cruel, in destroying  
The building thou hast raised,   Mirt. 

Pray you do not tempt me, for 'tis resolved.   Calist. 

I know not what to think of't.  
In the discovery of my secrets to her,  
I have made my slave my Mistress, I must soothe her,  
There's no evasion else. Prithee Mirtilla,  
Be not so violent, I am strangely taken  
With thy affection to me, 'twas my purpose  
To have thee sent for.   Mirt. 

When?   Calist. 

This very night, and I vow deeply I shall be no sooner  
In the desired possession of my Lord;  
But by some of his servants I will have thee  
Conveyed unto us.   Mirt. 

Should you break?   Calist. 

I dare not:  
Come, clear thy looks, for instantly we'll prepare  
For our departure.   Mirt. 

Pray you forgive my boldness,  
Growing from my excess of zeal to serve you.   Calist. 

I thank thee for't.   Mirt. 

You'll keep your word.   Calist. 

Still doubtful?   Mirt. 

'Twas this I aimed at, and leave the rest to Fortune.   Exeunt. Enter Adorio, Camillo, Lentulo, Donato, Cario, Servants. Ador. 

Haste you unto my Villa, and take all  
Provision along with you; and for use,  
And ornament, the shortness of the time  
Can furnish you; let my best Plate be set out,  
And costliest Hangings, and if't be possible  
With a merry dance to entertain the Bride,  
Provide an Epithalamium.   Car. 

Trust me for belly timber, and for a song I have  
A Paper blurrer; who on all occasions,  
For all times, and all seasons, hath such trinkets  
Ready i'th' deck. It is but altering  
The names, and they will serve for any Bride,  
Or Bridegroom in the Kingdom.   Ador. 

But for the dance?   Car. 

I will make one myself, and foot it finely,  
And summoning your Tenants at my Dresser,  
Which is indeed my Drum. Make a rare choice  
Of th'able youth, such as shall sweat sufficiently,  
And smell too, but not of Amber, which you know is  
The grace of the Country-hall.   Ador. 

About it Cario, and look you be careful.   Car. 

For mine own credit Sir.   Exit. Ador. 

Now noble friends confirm your loves, and think not  
Of the penalty of the Law, that does forbid  
The stealing away an Heir. I will secure you,  
And pay the breach of't.   Cam. 

Tell us what we shall do, we'll talk of that hereafter.   Ador. 

Pray you be careful  
To keep the West-gate of the City open,  
That our passage may be free, and bribe the Watch  
With any sum; this is all.   Don. 

A dangerous business.   Cam. 

I'll make the Constable, Watch, and Porter drunk, Under a Crown.   Lent. 

And than you may pass while they snore.  
Though you had done a murder.   Cam. 

Get but your Mistress,  
And leave the rest to us.   Ador. 

You much engage me,  
But I forget myself:   Cam. 

Pray you in what, Sir?   Ador. 

Yielding too much to my affection,  
Though lawful now; my wounded reputation  
And honour suffer: The disgrace in taking  
A blow in public from Caldoro, branded  
With the infamous mark of Coward, in delaying  
To right myself, upon my cheek grows fresher,  
That's first to be considered   Cam. 

If you dare  
Trust my opinion, (yet I have had  
Some practice and experience in dvels)  
You are too tender that way: Can you answer  
The debt you owe your honour, till you meet  
Your Enemy from whom you may exact it?  
Hath he not left the City, and in fear  
Concealed himself, for aught I can imagine?  
What would you more?   Ador. 

I should do.   Cam. 

Never think on'  
Till fitter time and place invite you to it.  
I have read Caranza, and find not in his Grammar  
Of Quarrels, that the injured man is bound  
To seek for reparation at an hour;  
But may, and without loss, till he hath settled  
More serious occasions that import him,  
For a day or two defer it.   Ador. 

You'll subscribe  
Your hand to this?   Cam. 

And justify't with my life,  
Presume upon't.   Ador. 

On then, you shall overrule me.   Exeunt. Enter Jolante and Calypso. Jol 

I'll give thee a golden tongue, and have it hung up  
o'er thy tomb for a monument.   Cal. 

I am not prepared yet  
To leave the world; there are many good pranks  
I must dispatch in this kind before I die:  
And I had rather, if your Honour please,  
Have the crowns in my purse.   Jol. 

Take that.   Cal. 

Magnificent Lady!  
May you live long, and every Moon love change,  
That I may have fresh employment, You know what  
Remains to be done.   Jol. 

Yes, yes, I will command  
My daughter and Mirtilla to their chamber:   Cal. 

And lock up: Such liquorish Kitlings are not  
To be trusted with our cream. Ere I go, I'll help you  
To set forth the banquet, and place the candid eringoes  
Where he may be sure to taste 'em. Then undress you,  
For these things are cumbersome, when you should be active:  
o' thine night mantle to hide part of your Smock,  
With your Pearl embroidered pantofles on your Feet,  
And than you are armed for service; nay, no trifling,  
We are alone, and you know 'tis a point of folly  
To be coy to eat, when meat is set before you.   Exeunt: Enter Adorio, and Servant. Ador. 

'Tis eleven by my Watch, the hour appointed.  
Listen at the door; hearest thou any stirring?   Serv. 

No Sir, all's silent here.   Ador. 

Some cursed business keeps  
Her mother up. I'll walk a little circle,  
And show where you shall wait us with the horses,  
And then return. This short delay afflicts me,  
And I presume, to her it is not pleasing.   Exeunt. Enter Durazzo, Caldoro. Dur. 

What's now to be done? prithee let's to Bed, I am sleep.  
And here's my hand on't without more ado,  
By fair or foul play, we'll have her tomorrow  
In thy possession.   Cald. 

Good Sir give me leave  
To taste a little comfort in beholding  
The place by her sweet presence sanctified.  
She may perhaps to take air, open the Casement,  
And looking out, a new Star to be gazed on  
By me with adoration, bless these eyes.  
Ne'er happy but when she is made the Object.   Dur. 

Is not here fine fooling.   Caldo. 

Thou great Queen of Love,  
Or real or imagined, be propitious  
To me thy faithful Votary; and I vow  
T'erect a statue to thee, equal to  
Thy picture by Apelles' skilful hand  
Left as the great example of his art;  
And on thy thigh I'll hang a golden Cupid,  
His torches flaming, and his quiver full,  
For further honour.   Dur. 

End this waking dream, and let's away  
Mirtilla!   Enter Caliste and Mirtilla. Cald. 

'Tis her voice.   Cal. 

You heard the horses footing.   Mirt. 

Certainly.   Cal. 

Speak low, my Lord Adorio:   Cald. 

I am dumb.   Dur. 

The darkness friend us too, most honoured  
Madam,  
Adorio your servant.   Cal. 

As you are so, I do command your silence till we are  
Further removed; and let this kiss assure you,  
(I thank the sable night that hides my blushes)  
I am wholly yours.   Dur. 

Forward you mitcher.   Mirt. 

Madam, think on Mirtilla. [Goes in]   Dur. 

I'll not now inquire  
The mystery of this, but bless kind Fortune  
Favouring us beyond our hopes: yet now I think on't,  
I had ever a lucky hand in such smock nightwork.   Exeunt. Enter Adorio and Servant. Ador. 

This slowness does amaze me; she's not altered  
In her late resolution.  
[Within jolant. ]Get you to bed,  
And stir not on your life, till I command you.   Ador. 

Her mother's voice! listen.   Serv. 

Here comes the daughter.   Enter Mirtilla. Mirt. 

Whither shall I fly for succour?   Ador. 

To these arms, your castle of defence, impregnable,  
And not to be blown up. How your heart beats!  
Take comfort, dear Caliste, you are now  
In his protection that will ne'er forsake you,   Adorio: 

Your changed Adorio swears  
By your best self, an oath he dares not break,  
He loves you, loves you in a noble way,  
His constancy firm as the poles of heaven.  
I will urge no reply, silence becomes you,  
And I'll defer the music of your voice  
Till we are in a place of safety.   Mirt. 

O blessed error!   Exeunt. Enter Severino. 

'Tis midnight: how my fears of certain death  
Being surprised, combat with my strong hopes  
Raised on my chaste wife's goodness! I am grown  
A stranger in this City, and no wonder,  
I have too long been so unto myself:  
Grant me a little truce, my troubled soul,  
I hear some footing, ha?   Enter Monteclaro and Calypso. Calyp. 

That is the house,  
And there's the key; you'll find my Lady ready  
To entertain you: 'tis not fit I should  
Stand gaping by while you bill: I have brought you on,  
Charge home, and come off with honour.   Exit. Sever. 

It makes this way.   Mont. 

I am much troubled, and know not what to think  
Of this design.   Sever. 

It still comes on.   Mont. 

The Watch! I am betrayed.   Sever. 

Should I now appear fearful,  
It would discover me; there is no retiring,  
My confidence must protect me, I'll appear  
As if I walked the round. Stand.   Mont. 

I: am lost.   Sever. 

The word?   Mont. 

Pray you forbear; I am a stranger,  
And missing this dark stormy night my way  
To my lodging, you shall do a courteous office  
To guide me to't.   Sever 

Do you think I stand here for a page or a porter?   Mont. 

Good sir grow not so high,  
I can justify my being abroad; I am  
No pilfering vagabond, and what you are  
Stands yet in supposition; and I charge you  
If you are an Officer, bring me before your Captain;  
For if you do assault me, though not in fear  
Of what you can do alone, I will cry murder  
And raise the streets.   Sever. 

Before my Captain, ha?  
And bring my head to the block. Would we were parted,  
I have greater cause to fear the Watch than he.   Mont. 

Will you do your duty?   Sever. 

I must close with him:  
Truth sir, whate'er you are, (yet by your language  
I guess you a Gentleman) I'll not use the rigor  
Of my place upon you; only quit this street,  
For your stay here will be dangerous, and good night.   Mont. 

The like to you sir; I'll grope out my way  
As well as I can. O damned Bawd! fare you well sir.   Exit Monteclaro. Sever. 

I am glad he's gone; there is a secret passage  
Unknown to my wife, through which this key will guide me  
To her desired embraces, which must be,  
My presence being beyond her hopes, most welcome.   Exit. Enter Jolante (with a rich banquet, and tapers) (in a chair, behind a curtain.) Jol. 

I am full of perplexed thoughts: Imperious Blood,  
Thou only art a tyrant; Judgement, Reason,  
To whatsoever thy Edicts proclaim,  
With vassal fear subscribe against themselves,  
I am yet safe in the port, and see before me,  
If I put off, a rough tempestuous sea,  
The raging winds of infamy from all quarters  
Assuring my destruction; yet my lust  
Swelling the wanton sails, (my understanding  
(Stowed under hatches) like a desperate Pilot  
Commands me to urge on: My pride, my pride,  
Self-love, and over-value of myself  
Are justly punished: I that did deny  
My daughter's youth allowed and lawful pleasures,  
And would not suffer in her those desires  
She sucked in with my milk, now in my waning  
Am scorched and burnt up with libidinous fire  
That must consume my fame; yet still I throw  
More fuel on it.   Enter Severino. Sever. 

'Tis her voice, poor Turtle;  
She's now at her devotions praying for  
Her banished Mate: alas, that for my guilt  
Her innocence should suffer! But I do  
Commit a second sin in my deferring  
The ecstasy of joy that will transport her  
Beyond herself, when she flies to my lips,  
And seals my welcome. Jolante!   Jol. 

Ha? good Angels guard me.   Sever. 

What do I behold?  
Some sudden flash of lightning strike me blind,  
Or cleave the centre of the earth, that I  
May living find a sepulchre to swallow  
Me and my shame together.   Jol. 

Guilt and horror  
Confound me in one instant; thus surprised,  
The subtlety of all Wantons, though abstracted,  
Can show no seeming colour of excuse  
To plead in my defence.   Sever. 

Is this her mourning?  
O killing object! the imprisoned vapours  
Of rage and sorrow make an earthquake in me;  
This little world, like to a tottering tower,  
Not to be underpropped; yet in my fall  
I'll crush thee with my ruins.   Draws a poniard, she kneels. Jol. 

Good sir, hold:  
For, my defence unheard, you wrong your justice,  
If you proceed to execution,  
And will too late repent it.   Sever. 

Thy defence? To move it, adds (could it receive addition)  
Ugliness to the loathsome leprosy  
That in thy being a Strumpet hath already  
Infected every vein, and spreads itself  
Over this carrion, which would poison  
vultures and dogs, should they devour it. Yet to stamp  
The seal of Reprobation on thy soul,  
I'll hear thy impudent lies borrowed from hell  
And prompted by the Devil thy tutor, Whore,  
Then send thee to him. Speak.   Jol. 

Your Gorgon looks  
Turn me to stone, and a dead palsy seizes  
My silenced tongue.   Sever. 

O fate, that the disease  
Were general in women; what a calm  
Should wretched men enjoy! Speak, and be brief,  
Or thou shalt suddenly feel me.   Jol. 

Be appeased sir,  
Until I have delivered reasons for  
This solemn preparation.   Sever. 

On, I hear thee.   Jol. 

With patience ask your memory; 'twill instruct you,  
This very day of the month 17 years since  
You married me.   Sever. 

Grant it, what canst thou urge from this?   Jol. 

That day since your proscription sir,  
In the remembrance of it annually,  
The garments of my sorrow laid aside,  
I have with pomp observed.   Sever. 

Alone!   Jol. 

The thoughts of my felicity then, my misery now,  
Were the invited guests; Imagination  
Teaching me to believe that you were present  
And a partner in it.   Sever. 

Rare! this real banquet  
To feast your fancy: Fiend, could Fancy drink off  
These flagons to my health? or th'idol Thought  
Like Baal devour-these delicates? the room  
Perfumed to take his nostrils? this loose habit  
Which Messalina would not wear, put on  
To fire his lustful eyes? Wretch, am I grown  
So weak in thy opinion, that it can  
Flatter credulity that these gross tricks  
May be foisted on me? Where's my daughter? where  
The Bawd your woman? answer me, Caliste,  
Mirtilla! they are disposed of, if not murdered,  
To make all sure; and yet methinks your neighbour,  
Your whistle, agent, parasite Calypso,  
Should be within: Call when you hem to usher in  
The close Adulterer.   Jol. 

What will you do?   Sever. 

Not kill thee, do not hope it, I am not  
So near to reconcilement. Ha! this scarf  
Th'intended favour to your Stallion, now  
Is useful: do not strive; thus bound expect  
All studied tortures, my assurance, not  
My jealousy thou art false, can pour upon thee.  
In darkness howl thy mischiefs; and if rankness  
Of thy imagination can conjure  
The ribald, glut thyself with him:  
I will cry aim, and in another room  
Determine of my vengeance. Oh my heartstrings!   Exit (with tapers.) Jol. 

Most miserable woman! and yet sitting  
A Judge in mine own cause upon myself,  
I could not mitigate the heavy doom  
My incensed husband must pronounce upon me.  
In my intents I am guilty, and for them  
Must suffer the same punishment, as if  
I had in fact offended.   [Calypso speaks at the door.] 

Bore my eyes out  
If you prove me faulty: I'll but tell my Lady  
What caused your stay, and instantly present you.  
How's this? no lights? what new device? will she play  
At Blindman buff Madam?   Jol. 

Upon thy life speak in a lower key:   Calyp. 

The mystery  
Of this sweet Lady; where are you?   Jol. 

Here fast bound.   Calyp. 

By whom?   Jol. 

I'll whisper that into thine ear, and then farewell for ever.   Calyp. 

How? my Lord,  
I am in a fever: Horns upon horns grow on him.  
Could he pick no hour but this to break a bargain  
Almost made up?   Jol. 

What shall we do?   Calyp. 

Betray him: I'll instantly raise the Watch.   Jol. 

And so make me for ever infamous.   Calyp. 

The Gentleman, the rarest Gentleman is at the door,  
Shall he lose his labour? since that you must perish,  
'T will show a woman's spleen in you to fall  
Deservedly: give him his answer, Madam.  
I have on the sudden in my head a strange whimsy,  
But I will first unbind you.   Jol. 

Now what follows?   Cal. 

I will supply your place; and bound, give me  
Your mantle, take my nightgown, send away  
The Gentleman satisfied. I know my Lord  
Wants power to hurt you: I perhaps may get  
A kiss by the bargain, and all this may prove  
But some neat love-trick: If he should grow furious  
And question me, I am resolved to put on  
An obstinate silence. Pray you dispatch the Gent.  
His courage may cool.   Jol. 

I'll speak with him; but if  
To any base or lustful end, may mercy  
At my last gasp forsake me.   Exit. Calyp. 

I was too rash,  
And have done what I wish undone: say he should kill me.  
I have run my head in a fine noose, and I smell  
The pickle I am in: 'las how I shudder  
Still more and more! would I were a she Priapus.  
Stuck up in a garden to fright away the Crows,  
So I were out of the house; she's at her pleasure  
whate'er she said, and I must endure the torture.  
He comes; I cannot pray, my fear will kill me.   Enter Severino (throwing open the doors violently) having a knife. Sev. 

It is a deed of darkness, and I need  
No light to guide me: there is something tells me  
I am too slow paced in my wreak, and trifle  
In my revenge. All hushed? no sigh nor groan  
To witness her compunction? can guilt sleep,  
And innocence be open-eyed? Even now  
Perhaps she dreams of the Adulterer,  
And in her fancy hugs him: Wake thou strumpet,  
And instantly give up unto my vengeance  
The villain that defiles my bed; discover  
Both what and where he is, and suddenly  
That I may bind you face to face, then sew you  
Into one sack, and from some steep rock hurl you  
Into the sea together: Do not play with  
The lightning of my rage; break stubborn silence.  
And answer my demands, will it not be?  
I'll talk no longer; thus I mark thee for  
A common strumpet.   Calyp. 

Oh!   Sever. 

Thus stab these arms  
That have stretched out themselves to grasp a stranger.   Calyp. 

Oh!   Sever. 

This is but an induction; I'll draw  
The curtains of the Tragedy hereafter:  
Howl on, 'tis music to me.   Exit Severino. Calyp. 

He is gone,  
A kiss and love-tricks; he hath villainous teeth,  
May sublimed Mercury draw 'em. If all dealers  
In my profession were paid thus, there would be  
A dearth of Cuckolds. Oh my nose! I had one,  
My arms, my arms! I dare not cry for fear:  
Cursed desire of gold, how art thou punished?   Enter Jolante. Jol. 

Till now I never truly knew myself,  
Nor by all principles and lectures read  
In Chastities cold school was so instructed  
As by her contrary. How base and deformed  
Loose appetite is! as in a few short minutes  
This stranger hath, and feelingly, delivered.  
Oh that I could recall my bad intentions,  
And be as I was yesterday untainted  
In my desires, as I am still in fact  
(I thank his temperance) I could look undaunted  
Upon my husband's rage, and smile at it;  
So strong the guards, and sure defences are  
Of armed Innocence; but I will endure  
The penance of my sin, the only means,  
Is left to purge it. The day breaks, Calypso.   Calyp. 

Here Madam, here:   Jol. 

Hath my Lord visited thee?   Calyp. 

Hell take such visits; these stabbed arms, and loss  
Of my nose, you left fast on, may give you a relish  
What a night I have had of't, and what you had suffered,  
Had I not supplied your place.   Jol. 

I truly grieve for't; did not my husband speak to thee?   Calyp. 

Yes, I heard him  
And felt him ecce signum, with a mischief.  
But he knew not me; like a true bred Spartan Fox  
With silence I endured it, he could not get  
One syllable from me.   Jol. 

Something may be fashioned  
From this invention: Help me, I must be sudden,  
Thou art free, exchange, quick, quick, now bind me sure,  
And leave me to my fortune.   Calyp. 

Pray you consider,  
The loss of my nose; had I been but carted for you,  
Though washed with Mire and Chamber-lye, I had  
Examples to excuse me; but my nose, my nose dear  
Lady.   Exit. Jol. 

Get off, I'll send to thee.  
If so, it may take; if it fail, I must  
Suffer whatever follows.   Enter Severino (with a Taper.) Sever. 

I have searched  
In every corner of the house, yet find not  
My daughter, nor her Maid, nor any print  
Of a man's footing, which this wet night would  
Be easily discerned, the ground being soft,  
At his coming in or going out.   Jol. 

'Tis he, and I am within hearing; Heaven forgive this feigning,  
I being forced to't to preserve my life,  
To be better spent hereafter.   Sever. 

I begin to stagger, and my love if it knew how,  
Her piety heretofore, and fame remembered,  
Would plead in her excuse.   Jol. 

You blessed Guardians  
Of matrimonial faith, and just revengers  
Of such as do in fact offend against  
Your sacred rites and ceremonies; by all titles  
And holy attributes you do vouchsafe  
To be invoked, look down with saving pity  
Upon my matchless sufferings.   Sever. 

At her devotions, affliction makes her repent.   Jol. 

Look down upon a wretched woman; and as I  
Have kept the knot of wedlock, in the Temple  
By the Priest fastened firm, (though in loose wishes  
I yield I have offended) to strike blind  
The eyes of Jealousy that see a crime  
I never yet committed, and to free me  
From the unjust suspicion of my Lord,  
Restore my martyred face and wounded arms  
To their late strength and beauty.   Sever. 

Does she hope to be cured by miracle?   Jol. 

This minute I  
Perceive with joy my orisons heard and granted:  
You ministers of mercy, who unseen,  
And by a supernatural means have done  
This work of heavenly charity, be ever canonised for't.   Sever. 

I did not dream, I heard her,  
And I have eyes too, they cannot deceive me.  
If I have no belief in their assurance,  
I must turn sceptic. Ha? this is the hand?  
And this the fatal instrument? these drops  
Of blood, that gushed forth from her face and arms,  
Still fresh upon the floor: This is something more  
Than wonder or amazement, I profess I am astonished:   Jol. 

Be incredulous still,  
And go on in your barbarous rage, led to it  
By your false guide Suspicion, have no faith  
In my so long tried loyalty, nor believe  
That which you see; and for your satisfaction,  
My doubted innocence cleared by miracle,  
Proceed, these Veins have now new blood, if you  
Resolve to let it out.   Sever. 

I would not be fooled  
With easiness of belief, and faintly give Aside.  
Credit to this strange wonder? 'tis now thought on  
In a fitter place and time, I'll sound this further. Unties her.  
How can I expect my sin? or hope,  
Though now I write myself thy slave, the service  
Of my whole life can win thee to pronounce  
Despaired of pardon? shall I kneel? that's poor,  
Thy mercy must urge more in my defence,  
Than I can fancy; wilt thou have revenge?  
My heart lies open to thee.   Jol. 

This is needless to me, who in the duty of a wife,  
Know I must suffer.   Sever. 

Thou art made up of goodness,  
And from my confidence that I am alone,  
The object of thy pleasures, until death  
Divorce us, we will know no separation  
Without inquiring why (as sure thou wilt not,  
Such is thy meek obedience) thy Jewels  
And choicest ornaments packed up, thou shalt  
Along with me; and as a Queen be honoured.  
By such a style me Sovereign, already  
My banishment is repealed, thou being present:  
The Neapolitan Court a place of exile  
When thou art absent; my stay here is mortal  
Of which thou art too sensible, I perceive it.  
Come dearest Jolante, with this breath  
All jealousy is blown away:   Jol. 

Be constant.   Exeunt.  

Act. 4. Scaen. 1.  A noise within, as the fall of a Horse,— then Enter Durazzo, Caldoro, Caliste, Servant. Duraz. 

HEll take the stumbling Jade.   Cald. 

Heaven help the Lady.   Serv. 

The Horse hath broke his neck.   Duraz. 

Would thine were cracked too  
So the Lady had no harm. Give her fresh air,  
'Tis but a swoon.   Cald. 

'Tis more, she's dead:   Duraz. 

Examine  
Her limbs if they be whole: not too high, not too high  
You ferret, this is no Cunniborough for you.  
How do you find her?   Cald 

No breath of comfort sir, too cruel fate!  
Had I still pined away, and lingered under  
The modesty of just and honest hopes  
After a long consumption, sleep and death,  
To me had been the same, but now as 'twere  
Possessed of all my wishes, in a moment  
To have 'em ravished from me? suffer shipwreck  
In view of the Port? and like a half starved beggar,  
No sooner in compassion clothed, but coffined?  
Malevolent destinies, too cunning in  
Wretched Caldoro's tortures. O Caliste,  
If thy immortal part hath not already  
Left this fair palace, let a beam of light  
Dawn from thine eye, in this Cimmerian darkness,  
To guide my shaking hand to touch the anchor  
Of hope in thy recovery.   Caliste. 

Oh.   Duraz. 

She lives, disturb her not, she is no right bred woman  
If she die with one fall; some of my acquaintance  
Have took a thousand merrily, and are still  
Excellent wrestlers at the close hug.   Cald. 

Good Sir.   Duraz. 

Prithee be not angry, I should speak thus if  
My Mother were in her place.   Cald. 

But had you heard  
The music of the language which she used  
To me, believed Adorio, as she rode  
Behind me; little thinking that she did  
Embrace Caldoro.   Caliste. 

Ah Adorio!   Duraz. 

Leave talking, I conceive it.   Caliste. 

Are you safe?   Cald. 

And raised like you from death to life to hear you.   Calist. 

Hear my defence then, ere I take my veil off.  
A simple Maid's defence, which looking on you,  
I faintly could deliver; willingly  
I am become your prize, and therefore use  
Your victory nobly; Heavens bright eye, the Sun,  
Draws up the grossest vapours, and I hope  
I ne'er shall prove an envious cloud to darken  
The splendour of your merits. I could urge  
With what disdain, nay scorn, I have declined  
The shadows of insinuating pleasures  
Tendered by all men else, you only being  
The object of my hopes: That cruel Prince  
To whom the Olive branch of Peace is offered,  
Is not a conqueror, but a bloody tyrant,  
If he refuse it; nor should you wish a triumph,  
Because Caliste's humble; I have said  
And now expect your sentence.   Duraz. 

What a throng  
Of Clients would be in the Court of Love,  
Were there many such she Advocates: Art thou dumb?  
Canst thou say nothing for thyself.   Cald. 

Dear Lady open your eyes, and look upon the man,  
The man you have elected for your Judge,  
Kneeling to you for mercy.   Cal. 

I should know this voice, and something more than fear I am  
Deceived, but now I look upon his face,  
I am assured I am wretched.   Duraz. 

Why good Lady?  
Hold her up, she'll fall again, before her time else,  
The youth's a well timbered youth, look on his making;  
His Hair curled naturally, he's whole chested too,  
And will do his work as well, and go through stitch with't,  
As any Adorio in the world; my slate on't,  
A Chicken of the right kind; and if he prove not  
A Cock of the Game, cuckold him first, and after  
Make a Capon of him.   Caliste. 

I'll cry out a Rape,  
If thou unhand me not; would I had died  
In my late trance, and never lived to know  
I am betrayed.   Duraz. 

To a young and active husband,  
Call you that treachery; there are a shoal of  
Young wenches i'th' City, would vow a pilgrimage  
Beyond Jerusalem, to be so cheated.  
To her again you milksop, violent storms  
Are soon blown over.   Caliste. 

How couldst thou Caldoro  
With such a frontless impudence, arm thy hopes  
So far, as to believe I might consent  
To this lewd practice? have I not often told thee  
How, ere I pitied thy misplaced affection,  
I could not answer it? and that there was  
A strong antipathy between our Passions,  
Not to be reconciled.   Cald. 

Vouchsafe to hear me  
With an impartial ear, and it will take from  
The rigor of your censure. Man was marked  
A friend in his Creation to himself,  
And may with fit ambition conceive  
The greatest blessings, and the highest honours  
Appointed for him, if he can achieve  
The right and noble way: I grant you were  
The end of my design, but still pursued  
With a becoming modesty, Heaven at length  
Being pleased, and not my arts to further it.   Duraz. 

Now he comes to her: On boy.   Cald. 

I have served you  
With a religious zeal, and borne the burden  
Of your neglect (if I may call it so)  
Beyond the patience of a man, to prove this.  
I have seen those eyes with pleasant glances play  
Upon Adorio's, like Phoebe's shine  
Guilding a Crystal River, and your Lip  
Rise up in civil courtship to meet his,  
While I bit mine with envy: Yet these favours  
( howe'er my passions raged) could not provoke me  
To one act of rebellion against  
My loyalty to you; the sovereign  
To whom I owe obedience.   Calist. 

My blushes confess this for a truth.   Duraz. 

A flag of truce is  
Hung out in this acknowledgement.   Cald. 

I could add,  
But that you may interpret what I speak,  
The malice of a rival, rather than  
My due respect to your deserts. How faintly  
Adorio hath returned thanks to the bounty  
Of your affection, ascribing it  
As a tribute to his worth, and not in you  
An act of mercy: Could he else invited  
(As by your words I understood) to take you  
To his protection, grossly neglect  
So gracious an offer? or give power  
To fate itself to cross him? O dear Madam,  
We are all the Balls of time, tossed to and fro,  
From the Plough unto the Throne, and back again,  
Under the swinge of destiny mankind suffers;  
And it appears by an unchanged decree  
You were appointed mine; wise nature always  
Aiming at due proportion, and if so,  
I may believe with confidence, Heaven in pity  
Of my sincere affection, and long patience,  
Directed you by a most blessed error  
To your vowed servants bosom.   Duraz. 

By my holidame Tickling-Philosophy.   Calist. 

I am Sir, too weak  
To argue with you; but my Stars have better  
(I hope) provided for me.   Cald. 

If there be  
Disparity between us, 'tis in your  
Compassion to level it.   Duraz. 

Give fire to the Mine, and blow her up.   Caliste. 

I am sensible  
Of what you have endured, but on the sudden,  
With my unusual travel, and late bruise,  
I am exceeding weary; in you grove,  
While I repose myself, be you my guard:  
My spirits with some little rest revived,  
We will consider further: For my part  
You shall receive modest and gentle answers  
To your demands, though short perhaps to make you  
Full satisfaction.   Cald. 

I am exalted in the employment, sleep secure, I'll be  
Your vigilant Sentinel.   Calist. 

But I command you,  
And as you hope for future grace obey me,  
Presume not with one stolen kiss to disturb  
The quiet of my slumbers; let your temperance  
And not your lust, watch over me.   Cald. 

My desires  
Are frozen, till your pity shall dissolve'em.   Duraz. 

Frozen! think not of Frost fool in the Dog-days,  
Remember the old adage, and make use of't,  
Occasion's bald behind.   Calist. 

Is this your Uncle?   Cald. 

And Guardian, Madam; at your better leisure,  
When I have deserved it, you may give him thanks  
For his many favours to me.   Calist. 

He appears a pleasant Gentleman.   Ex. Caldoro and Caliste. Dur. 

You should find me so,  
But that I do hate incest. I grow heavy,  
Sirrah provide fresh horses; I'll seek out  
Some hollow tree, and dream till you return,  
Which I charge you to hasten.   Serv. 

With all care sir.   Exeunt. Enter Cario and Countrymen, (for the Dance and Song.) Car. 

Let your eyes be riveted to my heels, and miss not  
A hair's breadth of my footing; our Dance has  
A most melodious note, and I command you  
To have ears like hares this night for my Lords honour,  
And something for my Worship: your reward is  
To be drunk blind like Moles in the Wine-cellar,  
And though you ne'er see after, 'tis the better,  
You were born for this night's service: And do you hear,  
Wire-string and catsguts men, and strong-breathed Hoboys,  
For the credit of your calling, have not your Instruments  
To tune, when you should strike up; but twang sit perfectly,  
As you would read your Neckverse; and you Warbler  
Keep your Windpipe moist, that you may not spit and hem,  
When you should make division. How I sweat!  
Authority is troublesome.— They are come,  
I know it by the Cornet that I placed  
On the hill to give me notice: Marshal yourselves  
I'the Rear, the Van is yours. Now chant it spritely.   Enter Adorio, Mirtilla, Camillo, Lentulo, Donato Ador. 

A well-penned Ditty. [Song]   Cam. 

Not ill sung.   Ador. 

What follows?   Car. 

Use your eyes; if ever, now your masterpiece [Dance]   Ador. 

'Tis well performed, take that, but not from me,  
'Tis your new lady's bounty, thank her for't,  
All that I have is hers.   Car. 

I must have three shares  
For my pains and properties, the rest shall be  
Divided equally.   Ex. Cario & Rastici. Mirt. 

My real fears  
Begin, and soon my painted comforts vanish  
In my discovery.   Ador. 

Welcome to your own:  
You have (a wonder in a woman) kept  
Three long hours silence; and the greater, holding  
Your own choice in your arms, a blessing for which  
I will be thankful to you, nay unmask  
And let mine eye and ears together feast,  
Too long by you kept empty: Oh you want  
Your woman's help, I'll do her office for you.  
pulls off her mask .Mirtilla!   Cam. 

It is she, and wears the habit  
In which Caliste three days since appeared  
As she came from the Temple.   Lent. 

All this trouble for a poor Waiting-maid?   Don. 

We are grossly gulled.   Ador. 

Thou child of impudence, answer me, and truly,  
Or though the tongues of Angels pleaded mercy,  
Tortures shall force it from thee.   Mirt. 

Innocence is free and open. breasted; of what crime  
Stand I accused, my Lord?   Ador. 

What crime? no language  
Can speak it to the height, I shall become  
Discourse for fools, and drunkards. How was this  
Contrived? who helped thee in the plot? discover.  
Were not Caliste's aids in't?   Mirt. 

No on my life; nor am I faulty.   Ador. 

No: what may games this.  
Didst thou treat with me for thy Mistress favours,  
To make sale of thine own?   Mirt. 

With her and you  
I have dealt faithfully: you had her Letter  
With the Jewel I presented; she received  
Your courteous answer, and prepared herself  
To be removed by you: And howsoever  
You take delight to hear what you have done,  
From my simplicity, and make my weakness  
The subject of your mirth, as it suits well  
With my condition, I know you have her  
In your possession.   Ador. 

How! has she left her mother's house?   Mirt. 

You drive this nail too far;  
Indeed she deeply vowed at her departure  
To send some of your Lordship's servants for me,  
(Though you were pleased to take the pains yourself)  
That I might still be near her, as a shadow  
To follow her the substance.   Ador. 

She is gone then?   Mirt. 

This is too much; but good my Lord forgive me,  
I come a Virgin hither to attend  
My noble Mistress, though I must confess  
I look with sore eyes upon her good fortune,  
And wish it were mine own:   Ador. 

Then as it seems you do yourself affect me?   Mirt. 

Should she hear me,  
And in her sudden fury kill me for't,  
I durst not, Sir, deny it; since you are  
A man so formed, that not poor I alone,  
But all our sex like me I think stand bound  
To be enamoured of you.   Ador. 

O my fate! how justly am I punished? in thee punished  
For my defended wantonness? I that scorned  
The Mistress when she sought me, now I would  
Upon my knees receive her, am become  
A prey unto her Bondwoman,  
My honour too neglected for this purchase.  
Art thou one of those  
Ambitious Serving-women, who contemning  
Th'embraces of their Equals, aim to be  
The wrong way Ladified by a Lord? was there  
No forward Page or Footman in the City  
To do the feat, that in thy lust I am chosen  
To be the executioner? dar'st thou hope  
I can descend so low?   Mirt. 

Great Lords sometimes  
For change leave calvered salmon, and eat Sprats,  
In modesty I dare speak no more.   Cam. 

If 'twere a Fish-day, though you like it not,  
I could say  
I have a stomach, and would content myself  
With this pretty Whiting-mop.   Ador. 

Discover yet how thou cam'st to my hands.   Mirt. 

My Lady gone,  
Fear of her mother's rage, she being found absent,  
Moved me to fly; and quitting of the house,  
You were pleased unasked to comfort me, I used  
No sorceries to bewitch you; then vouchsafed  
(Thanks ever to the darkness of the night)  
To hug me in your arms, and I had wronged  
My breeding near the Court, had I refused it.   Ador. 

This is still more bitter; canst thou guess to whom  
Thy Lady did commit herself?   Mirt. 

They were horsemen, as you are.   Ador. 

In the name of wonder,  
How could they pass the Port, where you expected  
My coming?   Cam. 

Now I think upon't, there came  
Three mounted by, and behind one a woman  
Embracing fast the man that rode before her.   Lent. 

I knew the men, but she was veiled.   Ador. 

What were they?   Lent. 

The first the Lord Durazzo, and the second  
Your rival young Caldoro; it was he  
That carried the wench behind him.   Donat. 

The last a servant that spurred fast after 'em   Ador. 

Worse and worse! 'twas she!  
Too much assurance of her love undid me;  
Why did you not stay 'em?   Donat. 

We had no such commission.   Camil. 

Or say we had? who durst lay fingers on  
The angry old Russian.   Lent. 

For my part I had rather  
Take a baited Bull by the Horns.   Ador. 

You are sure friends for a man to build on.   Camil. 

They are not far off,  
Their horses appeared spent too; let's take fresh ones  
And coast the Country, ten to one we find 'em.   Ador. 

I will not eat nor sleep, until I have 'em.  
Moppet you shall along too.   Mirt. 

So you please, I may keep my place behind you;  
I'll sit fast, and ride with you all the world over.   Camil. 

A good Girl.   Exeunt: Enter Monteclaro and Calypso. Mont. 

Her husband Severino?   Calyp. 

You may see  
His handiwork by my flat face; no bridge  
Left to support my Organ. If I had one,  
The comfort is I am now secure from the Grincomes,  
I can lose nothing that way.   Monte. 

Dost thou not know what became of the  
Lady?   Calyp. 

A nose was enough to part with  
I think, in the service; I durst stay no longer,  
But I am full assured the house is empty,  
Neither poor Lady, daughter, servant left there:  
I only guess he hath forced 'em to go with him  
To the dangerous Forest where he lives like a King  
Among the Banditi, and how there he hath used them,  
Is more than to be feared.   Mont. 

I have played the fool,  
And kept myself too long concealed, sans question  
With the danger of her life. Leave me—  
The King!   Enter Alphonso and Captain. Cal. 

The Surgeon must be paid.   Mont. 

Take that.   Cal. 

I thank you,  
I have got enough by my trade, and I will build  
An Hospital only for noseless Bawds,  
'Twill speak my charity, and be myself  
The Governess of the Sisterhood.   Exit. Alph. 

I may forget this in your vigilance hereafter;  
But as I am a King, if you provoke me  
The second time with negligence of this kind,  
You shall deeply smart for't.   Mont. 

The King's moved.   Alph. 

To suffer a murderer by us proscribed, at his pleasure  
To pass and repass through our guards?   Capt. 

Your pardon  
For this, my gracious Lord, binds me to be  
More circumspect hereafter.   Alph. 

Look you be so:  
Monsieur Laval, you were a suitor to me  
For Severino's pardon.   Mont. 

I was so, my good Lord.   Alph. 

You might have met him here to have thanked  
You for't, as now I understand.   Mont. 

So it is rumoured;  
And hearing in the City of his boldness,  
(I would not say contempt of your Decrees)  
As than I pleaded mercy, (under pardon)  
I now as much admire the slowness of  
Your justice (though it force you to some trouble)  
In fetching him in.   Alph. 

I have considered it.   Mont. 

He hath of late, as 'tis suspected, done  
An outrage on his wife forgetting nature  
To his own daughter, in whom sir I have  
Some nearer interest than I stand bound to  
In my humanity, which I gladly would  
Make known unto your Highness.   Alph. 

Go along, you shall have opportunity as we walk:  
See you what I committed to your charge,  
In readiness, and without noise.   Capt. 

I shall sir.   Exeunt.  

Act. 5. Scaen. 1.  Enter Claudio, and all the Banditi (making a guard) Severino and Jolante (with Oaken leaved garlands) and Singers. Sever. 

HEre, as a Queen, share in my sovereignty:  
The iron toils pitched by the Law to take  
The forfeiture of my life, I have broke through,  
And secure in the guards of these few subjects  
Smile at Alphonsus' fury, though I grieve for  
The fatal cause in your good brother's loss  
That does compel me to his course.   Jol. 

Revive not  
A sorrow long since dead, and so diminish  
The full fruition of those joys, which now  
I stand possessed of: Womanish fear of danger  
That may pursue us, I shake off, and with  
A masculine spirit.   Sev. 

'Tis well said.   Jol. 

In you sir I live; and when, or by the course of nature,  
Or violence you must fall, the end of my  
Devotions is, that one and the same hour  
May make us fit for heaven.   Sev. 

I join with you  
In my votes that way: But how, Jolante,  
You that have spent your past days slumbering in  
The down of quiet, can endure the hardness  
And rough condition of our present being,  
Does much disturb me.   Jol. 

These woods, Severino,  
Shall more than seem to me a populous City;  
You being present, here are no allurements  
To tempt my frailty, nor the conversation  
Of such, whose choice behaviour or discourse  
May nourish jealous thoughts.   Sev. 

True, Jolante,  
Nor shall suspected chastity stand in need here  
To be cleared by miracle.   Jol. 

Still on that string? it yields harsh discord.   Sev. 

I had forgot myself,  
And wish I might no more remember it.  
The day wears, sirs, without one prize brought in  
As tribute to your Queen. Claudio, divide  
Our Squadron in small parties, let 'em watch  
All passages, that none escape without  
The payment of our Customs   Claud. 

Shall we bring in the persons with the pillage?   Sev. 

By all means,  
Without reply about it, we'll retire Ex. Claudio and the rest.  
Into my Cave, and there at large discourse  
Our fortunes past, and study some apt means  
To find our daughter; since she well disposed of,  
Our happiness were perfect.   Jol. 

We must wait with patience heaven's pleasure.   Sev. 

'Tis my purpose.   Exeunt. Enter Lentulo and Camillo. Lent. 

Let the horses graze, they are spent,  
I am sure I am sleepy,  
And nodded as I rode: here was a jaunt  
I'th' dark through thick and thin, and all to no purpose:  
What a dulness grows upon me.   [They sit down] Lent. 

I can hardly  
Hold open mine eyes to say so. How did we lose Adorio?   Cam. 

He, Donato, and the Wench  
That cleaves to him like birdlime, took the right hand,  
But this place is our rendevouz.   Lent. 

No matter, we'll talk of that anon,— heigh ho.   [Sleeps] Cam 

He's fast already, Lentuio; I'll take a nap too.   [Sleeps] Enter Adorio, Mirtilla, Donato. Ador. 

Was ever man so crossed?   1 Wom. 

So blessed. This is the finest Wild-goose chase.   Ador. 

What's that you mutter?   Mirt. 

A short prayer, that you may find  
Your wished for love, though I am lost for ever.   Don. 

Pretty fool, who have we here?   Ador. 

This is Camillo.   Mirt. 

This Signior Lentulo   Ador. 

Wake 'em.   Don. 

They'll not stir,  
Their eyelids are glued, and mine too; by your favour,  
I'll follow their example.   [Lies down] Ador. 

Are you not weary?   Mirt. 

I know not what the word means, while I travel  
To do you service.   Ador. 

y' expect to reap  
The harvest of your flattery; but your hopes  
Will be blasted, I assure you.   Mirt. 

So you give leave  
To sow it as in me a sign of duty,  
Though you deny your beams of gracious favour  
To ripen it with patience I shall suffer.   Ador. 

No more; my resolution to find  
Caliste, by what accident lost, I know not,  
Binds me not to deny myself what nature  
Exacteth from me. To walk alone afoot  
(For my Horse is tired) were madness, I must sleep;  
You could lie down too.   Mirt. 

Willingly; so you please to use me.   Ador. 

Use thee?   Mirt. 

As your pillow Sir,  
I dare presume no farther, noble Sir.  
Do not too much condemn me; generous feet,  
Spurn not a fawning Spaniel.   Ador. 

Well! sit down.   Mirt. 

I am ready Sir.   Ador. 

So nimble?   Mirt. 

Love is active;  
Nor would I be a slow thing: Rest secure Sir  
On my maidenhead, I'll not ravish you.   Ador. 

For once, so far I'll trust you.   Lies down on her Lap. Mirt. 

All the joys of rest  
Dwell on your eyelids; let no dream disturb  
Your soft and gentle slumbers I cannot sing,  
But I'll talk you asleep: And I beseech you  
Be not offended, though I glory in  
My being thus employed; a happiness  
That stands for more than ample satisfaction  
For all I have, or can endure. He snores,  
And does not hear me; would his sense of feeling  
Were bound up too: I should— I am all fire.  
Such heaps of treasure offered as a prey,  
Would tempt a modest thief; I can no longer  
Forbear. I'll gently touch his Lips, and leave  
Kisses him.  
No print of mine. Ah! I have heard of Nectar;  
But till now never tasted it: These Rubies  
Are not clouded by my breath. If once again  
I steal, from such a full Exchequer, trifles  
Kisses again.  
Will not be missed, I am entranced: our fancy  
Some say in sleep works stronger, I will prove  
How far my— Sleeps.   Enter Durazzo. Dur. 

My bones ache, I am exceeding cold too, I must seek out  
A more convenient Truckle-bed. Ha! Do I dream?  
No, no, I wake, Camillo, Lentulo,  
Donato this; and as I live, Adorio  
In a handsome wench's lap, a whoreson; you are  
The best accommodated, I will call  
My Nephew, and his Mistress to this Pageant.  
The object may perhaps do more upon her,  
Than all Caldoro's rhetoric. With what  
Security they sleep! sure Mercury  
Hath travelled this way with his charming rod.  
Nephew, Caliste. Madam.   Enter Caldoro and Caliste. Cald. 

Here Sir, is your man returned with  
Horses.   Dur. 

No Boy, no; but here are some you thought not of.   Calist. 

Adorio.   Dur. 

The Idol that you worshipped.   Calist. 

This Mirtilla? I am made a stale:   Dur. 

I knew 'twould take.   Calist. 

False man;  
But much more treacherous woman, 'tis apparent,  
They jointly did conspire against my weakness,  
And credulous simplicity, and have  
Prevailed against it.   Cald. 

I'll not kill 'em sleeping;  
But if you please, I'll wake 'em first, and after  
Offer them as a fatal sacrifice, to your just anger.   Dur. 

You are a fool, reserve your blood for better uses.   Calist. 

My fond love, is changed to an extremity of hate,  
His very sight is odious.   Dur. 

I have thought of  
A pretty punishment for him, and his Comrades,  
Then leave him to his harlotry: If she prove not  
Torture enough, hold me an Ass Their horses  
Are not far off, I'll cut the Girts and Bridles,  
Then turn 'em into the Wood; if they can run  
Let 'em follow us as footmen. Wilt thou fight  
For what's thine own already?   Calist. 

In his Hat  
He wears a Jewel, which this faithless Strumpet  
As a salary of her Lust, deceived me of,  
He shall not keep't to my disgrace, nor will I  
Stir till I have it.   Dur. 

I am not good at nimming;  
And yet that shall not hinder us, by your leave Sir,  
'Tis restitution, pray you all bear witness  
I do not steal it; here 'tis.   Calist. 

Take it not  
As a Mistress favour, but a strong assurance  
I am your wife.   Cald 

O Heaven.   Duraz. 

Pray i'th' Church.  
Let us away, Nephew a word: have you not  
Been billing in the brakes? Ha, and so deserved  
This unexpected favour.   Cald. 

You are pleasant.   Exeunt Durazzo, Caldoro, Caliste. Ador. 

As thou art a Gentleman, kill me not basely,  
Starts up; the rest wake.  
Give me leave to draw my Sword.   Camil. 

Ha? what's the matter?   Lent. 

He talked of's Sword.   Donat. 

I see no enemy near us,  
That threatens danger.   Mirt. 

Sure 'twas but a dream.   Ador. 

A fearful one. methought Caldoro's sword  
Was at my throat, Caliste frowning by,  
Commanding him, as he desired her favour,  
To strike my head off.   Camil. 

Mere imagination of a disturbed fancy:   Mirt. 

Here's your Hat Sir.   Ador. 

But where my Jewel?   Camil. 

By all likelihood lost, this troublesome night.   Donat. 

I saw it when we came unto this place.   Mirt. 

I looked upon't myself, when you reposed.   Ador. 

What is become of it?  
Restore it, for thou hast it, do not put me  
To the trouble to search you.   Mirt. 

Search me?   Ador. 

You have been  
Before your Lady gave you entertainment,  
A nightwalker in the streets.   Mirt. 

How, my good Lord?   Ador. 

Traded in picking pockets, when tame gulls  
Charmed with your prostituted flatteries,  
deigned to embrace you.   Mirt. 

Love give place to anger.  
Charge me with theft, and prostituted baseness?  
Were you a Judge, nay more, the King; thus urged,  
To your teeth I would say, 'Tis false.   Ador. 

This will not do.   Camil. 

Deliver it in private.   Mirt. 

You shall be  
In public hanged first, and the whole gang of you.  
I steal what I presented.   Lent. 

Do not strive.   Ador. 

Though thou hast swallowed it, I'll rip thy entrail,  
But I'll recover it.   Mirt. 

Help, help.   Ador. 

A new plot.   Enter Claudio, and two Banditi, (presenting their Pistols.) Claud. 

Forbear, libidinous Monsters; if you offer  
The least resistance, you are dead: if one  
But lay his hand upon his sword, shoot all.   Ador. 

Let us fight for what we have, and if you can  
Win it, enjoy it.   Claud 

We come not to try  
Your valour, but for your money; throw down your sword,  
Or I'll begin with you: So if you will  
Walk quietly without bonds, you may, if not  
We'll force you; thou shalt have no wrong,  
But justice against these.   1. Bandit. 

We'll teach your Sir  
To meddle with wenches in our walks.   2. Bandit. 

It being against our Canons.   Camil. 

Whether will you lead us?   Claud. 

You shall know that hereafter: Guard 'em sure.   Exeunt: Enter Alphonso, Monteclaro, Captain. Alpho. 

Are all the passages stopped?   Gap 

And strongly maned,  
They must use wings, and fly, if they escape us.   Monte. 

But why, great Sir, you should expose your person  
To such apparent danger, when you may  
have'em brought bound before you; is beyond  
My apprehension.   Alpho. 

I am better armed  
Than you suppose: besides it is confirmed  
By all that have been robbed, since Severino  
Commanded these Banditi; though it be  
Unusual in Italy, imitating  
The courteous English Thieves, for so they call 'em,  
They have not done one murder: I must add too,  
That from a strange relation I have heard  
Of Severino's Justice, in disposing  
The preys brought in, I would be an eye-witness  
Of what I take up now but on report:  
And therefore 'tis my pleasure that we should  
As soon as they encounter us, without  
A show of opposition yield.   Mont. 

Your will is not to be disputed.   Alph. 

You have placed  
Your ambush so, that if there be occasion  
They suddenly may break in.   Capt. 

My life upon't.   Alph. 

We cannot travail far, but we shall meet  
With some of these good fellows; and be sure  
You do as I command you.   Mont. 

Without fear, sir.   Exeunt. Enter Severino and Jolante. Sev. 

'Tis true, I did command Caliste should not  
Without my knowledge and consent, assisted  
By your advice, be married: but your  
Restraint, as you deliver it, denying  
A grown up Maid the modest conversation  
Of Men, and warrantable pleasures, relished  
Of too much rigor, which no doubt hath driven her  
To take some desperate course:   Jol. 

What then I did, was in my care thought best.   Sev. 

I so conceive it;  
But where was your discretion to forbid  
Access and fit approaches, when you knew  
Her Suitors noble, either of which I would  
Have wished my son in law? Adorio,  
However wild, a young man of good parts,  
But better fortunes: his Competitor  
Caldoro, for his sweetness of behaviour,  
Staidness and temperance, holding the first place  
Among the Gallants most observed in Naples;  
His own revenues of a large extent,  
But in the expectation of his Uncles  
And Guardians entratas, by the course  
Of nature to descend on him, a Match  
For the best subjects' blood, I except none  
Of eminence in Italy.   Jol. 

Your wishes,  
howe'er a while delayed, are not I hope  
Impossibilities.   Sev. 

Though it prove so,  
Yet 'tis not good to give a check to Fortune  
When she comes smiling to us.— [Cornet within]  
Hark, this Cornet  
Assures us of a prize; there sit in state,  
'Tis thy first tribute.   Jol. 

Would we might enjoy our own as Subjects:   Sev. 

What's got by the sword,  
Is better than inheritance: All those Kingdoms  
Subdued by Alexander, were by force extorted,  
Though gilded o'er with glorious styles of conquest;  
His victories but royal robberies,  
And his true definition a Thief;  
When circled with huge Navies to the terror  
Of such as ploughed the Ocean, as the Pirate  
Who from a narrow Creek puts off for prey  
In a small Pinnace, from a second place  
New spoil brought in,— from a third party, brave!  
This shall be registered a day of triumph  
Designed by fate to honour thee.—  
— Welcome Claudio;  
Good booty, ha?   Enter Claudio, Banditi, Adorio, Lentulo, Donato, Camillo, Mirtilla, (at one door) Banditi, Durazo, Caldoro, Caliste, (at another;) Alphonso, Monteclaro, Captain, and Banditi. Clau. 

Their outsides promise so,  
But yet they have not made discovery  
Of what they stand possessed of.   Sev. 

Welcome all  
Good boys; you have done bravely, if no blood  
Be shed in the service.   1 Band. 

On our lives no drop sir.   Sev. 

'Tis to my wish.   Jol 

My Lord!   Sev. 

No more, I know 'em:   Jol. 

My daughter and her woman too!   Sev. 

Conceal your joys.   Dur. 

Fallen in the devil's mouth.   Cal. 

My father,  
And mother! to what fate am I reserved?   Cald. 

Continue masked; or grant that you be known,  
From whom can you expect a gentle sentence,  
If you despair a father's?   Ador. 

Now I perceive which way I lost my Jewel.   Mirt. 

I rejoice  
I am cleared from theft; you have done me wrong,  
But I unasked forgive you.   Dur. 

'Tis some comfort yet  
The rivals, men and women, friends and foes, are  
Together in one toil.   Sev. 

You all look pale,  
And by your private whisperings and soft murmurs  
Express a general fear: pray you shake it off;  
For understand you are not fallen into  
The hands of a Busiris or a Cacus,  
Delighted more in blood then spoil; but given up  
To the power of an unfortunate Gentleman,  
Not born to these low courses, howsoe'er  
My fate, and just displeasure of the King  
Designed me to it: you need not to doubt  
A sad captivity here, and much less fear  
For profit to be sold for slaves, then shipped  
Into another Country; in a word,  
You know the proscribed Severino, he  
Not unacquainted, but familiar with  
The most of you: Want in myself I know not,  
But for the pay of these my Squires, who eat  
Their bread with danger purchased, and must be  
With others fleeces clothed, or live exposed  
To the summer's scorching heat and winters cold;  
To these before you be compelled, (a word  
I speak with much unwillingness) deliver  
Such coin as you are furnished with.   Duraz. 

A fine method!  
This is neither begging, borrowing, nor robbery,  
Yet it hath a twang of all of them. But one word Sir.   Sever. 

Your pleasure.   Duzar. 

When we have thrown down our Muck, what follows?   Sever. 

Liberty, with a safe convoy, to any place you choose.   Duraz. 

By this hand you are  
A fair fraternity; for once I'll be  
The first example to relieve your Covent.  
There's a thousand crowns, my Vintage, Harvest, Profits  
Arising from my Herds, bound in one Bag,  
Share it among you.   Sever. 

You are still the jovial, and good Durazzo.   Duraz. 

To the Offering, nay,  
No hanging an arse, this is their wedding day.  
What you must do spite of your hearts, do freely  
For your own sakes.   Camil. 
There's mine.  They all throw down their purses. Lent. 

Mine.   Donat. 

All that I have.   Cald. 

This to preserve my Jewel.   Ador. 

Which I challenge;  
Let me have justice, for my coin I care not;   Mont. 

I will not weep for mine.   Capt. 

Would it were more.   Sev. 

Nay you are privileged; but why old father  
Art thou so slow? thou hast one foot in the grave;  
And if desire of gold do not increase  
With thy expiring lease of life, thou shouldst  
Be forwardest.   Alph. 

In what concerns myself,  
I do acknowledge it, and I should lie,  
(A vice I have detested from my youth)  
If I denied my present store, since what  
I have about me now, weighs down in value  
Almost a hundred sold, whatever these  
Have laid before you, see I do groan under  
Throws down three bags.  
The burden of my treasure; nay 'tis Gold,  
And if your hunger of it be not sated  
With what already I have shown unto you,  
Here's that shall glut it. In this Casket are  
Inestimable Jewels, Diamonds  
Of such a piercing lustre, as struck blind  
Th'amazed Lapidary, while he laboured  
To honour his own art in setting 'em.  
Opens the Casket.  
Some orient Pearls too, which the Queen of Spain  
Might wear as Earings, in remembrance of  
The day that she was crowned.   Sever. 

The spoils I think of both the Indies.   Duraz. 

The great sultan's poor,  
If paralleled with this Craessus.   Sever. 

Why dost thou weep?   Alpho. 

From a most fit consideration of  
My poverty, this though restored, will not  
Serve my occasions.   Sever. 

Impossible.   Duraz. 

May be he would buy his passport up to Heaven,  
And then this too little, though in the journey  
It were a good Viaticum.   Alpho. 

I would make it  
A means to help me thither; not to wrong you  
With tedious expectation, I'll discover  
What my wants are, and yield my reasons for 'em:  
I have two sons, twins, the true images  
Of what I was at their years; never father  
Had fairer, or more promising hopes in his  
Posterity: But alas, these sons ambitious  
Of glittering honour, and an aftername  
Achieved by glorious, and yet pious actions,  
(For such were their intentions) put to sea:  
They had a well rigged Bottom, fully manned,  
An old experienced Master, lusty Sailors,  
Stout Land-men, and what's something more than rare,  
They did agree, had one design, and that was  
In charity to redeem the Christian slaves  
Chained to the Turkish servitude.   Sev. 

A brave aim.   Dur. 

A most heroic enterprise; I languish  
To hear how they succeeded.   Alph. 

Prosperously  
At first, and to their wishes: divers Galleys  
They boarded, and some strong Forts near the shore  
They suddenly surprised, a thousand Captives  
Redeemed from th'oar, paid their glad vows & prayers  
For their deliverance, their ends acquired;  
And making homeward in triumphant manner,  
(For sure the cause deserved it.)   Dur. 

Pray you end here,  
The best I fear is told, and that which follows  
Must conclude ill.   Alph. 

Your fears are true, and yet  
I must with grief relate it; prodigal fame  
In every place with her loud trump proclaiming  
The greatness of the action; the Pirates  
Of Tunis and Argiers laid wait for 'em  
At their return: To tell you what resistance  
They made, and how my poor sons fought, would but  
Increase my sorrow, and perhaps grieve you  
To hear it passionately described unto you  
In brief they were taken, and for the great loss  
The enemy did sustain their victory,  
Being with much blood bought, they do endure  
The heaviest captivity, wretched men  
Did ever suffer, O my sons? my sons?  
To me for ever lost, lost, lost for ever.   Sever. 

Will not these heaps of Gold added to thine,  
Suffice for ransom?   Alpho. 

For my sons it would,  
But they refuse their liberty, if all  
That were engaged with them, have not their Irons  
With theirs struck off, and set at liberty with them,  
Which these heaps cannot purchase.   Sever. 

Ha? the toughness  
Of my heart melts? be comforted old Father  
I have some hidden treasure, and if all,  
I and my Squires, these three years have laid up,  
Can make the sum up, freely take it.   Duraz. 

I'll sell myself to my shirt, lands, movables, and thou  
Shalt part with thine too Nephew, rather than  
Such brave men shall live slaves.   2. Bandit. 

We will not yield to't:   3. Bandit. 

Nor lose our parts.   Sever. 

How's this?   2: Bandit. 

You are fitter far  
To be a Churchman, than to have command over good-fellows.   [Strikes 'em down.] Sever. 

Thus I ever use  
Such saucy Rascals, second me Claudio.  
Rebellious? do you grumble? I'll not leave  
One rogue of 'em alive.   [He discovers himself.] Alpho. 

Hold, give the sign   All. 

The King.   Sever. 

Then I am lost.   Claud. 

The Woods are full of armed men.   Alpho. 

No hope of your escape  
Can flatter you.   Sever. 

Mercy dread Sir.   Alpho. 

Thy carriage in this unlawful course appears so noble,  
Especially in this last trial, which  
I put upon you, that I wish the mercy  
You kneel in vain for, might fall gently on you.  
But when the holy Oil was poured upon  
My head, and I anointed King, I swore  
Never to pardon murder, I could wink at  
Your robberies, though our Laws call 'em death;  
But to dispense with Monteclaro's blood  
Would ill become a King, in him I lost  
A worthy subject, and must take from you  
A strict account of't; 'tis in vain to move,  
My doom's irrevocable.   Monte. 

Not dread Sir, if Monteclaro live.   Alpho. 

If? good Laval.   Monte. 

He lives in him Sir, that you though  
Laval.  
Three years have not so altered me, but you may  
Remember Monteclaro.   Dur. 

How.   Jol. 

My Brother.   Calist. 

Uncle.   Monte. 

Give me leave, I was  
Left dead in the field, but by the Duke Montpensier,  
Now General at Milan, taken up,  
And with much care recovered.   Alpho. 

Why lived you so long concealed?   Monte. 

Confounded with the wrong  
I did my Brother, in provoking him  
To fight. I spent the time in France that I  
Was absent from the Court, making my exile  
The punishment imposed upon myself  
For my offence.   Jol. 

Now Sir, I dare confess all  
This was the guest invited to the Banquet,  
That drew on your suspicion.   Sever. 

Your intent,  
Though it was ill in you, I do forgive,  
The rest I'll hear at leisure, Sir, your sentence.   Alpho. 

It is a general pardon unto all  
Upon my hopes, in your fair lives hereafter  
You will deserve it.   Sever. 

Claud &c. Long live great Alphonso.   Dur. 

Your mercy shown in this, now if you please  
Decide these lover's difference   Alpho. 

That is easy.  
I'll put it to the women's choice, the men  
Consenting to it.   Calist. 

Here I fix them, never to be removed.   Cald. 

'Tis my nil ultra Sir.   Mirt. 

O that I had the happiness to say  
So much to you, I dare maintain my love  
Is equal to my Ladies.   Ador. 

But my mind  
A pitch above yours. Marry with a servant  
Of no descent or fortune:   Sever. 

You are deceived,  
howe'er she has been trained up as a servant,  
She is the daughter of a noble Captain,  
Who in his voyage to the Persian Gulf,  
Perished by shipwreck, one I dearly loved.  
He to my care entrusted her, having taken  
My word, if he returned not like himself,  
I never should discover what she was,  
But it being for her good, I will dispense with it.  
So much Sir for her blood, now for her portion.  
So dear I hold the memory of my friend,  
It shall rank with my daughters:   Ador. 

This made good  
I will not be perverse.   Duraz. 

With a kiss confirm it.   Ador. 

I sign all concord here, but must to you  
Sir  
For reparation of my wounded honour,  
The justice of the King consenting to it,  
Denounce a lawful war.   Alpho. 

This in our presence:   Ador. 

The cause dread Sir commands it, though your Edicts  
Call private Combats, Murders, rather than  
Sit down with a disgrace, arising from  
A blow; the Bonds of my obedience shook of,  
Ill right myself.   Cald. 

I do confess the wrong,  
Forgetting the occasion, and desire  
Remission from you, and upon such terms  
As by his sacred Majesty shall be judged  
Equal on both parts.   Ador. 

I desire no more.   Alpho. 

All then are pleased, it is the glory of  
A King to make, and keep his subjects happy;  
For us we do approve the Roman Maxim,  
To save one Citizen is a greater prize,  
Than to have killed in War ten Enemies.   Exeunt.   

I. SONG.  
Between Juno and Hymen.  

Juno to the Bride.  

ENter a Maid, but made a Bride:  
Be bold, and freely taste.  
The Marriage Banquet ne'er denied  
To such as sit down chaste.  
Though he unloose thy Virgin Zone,  
Presumed against thy will:  
Those joys reserved to him alone,  
Thou art a Virgin still.    

Hymen to the Bridegroom.  

Hail Bridegroom, hail, thy choice thus made.  
As thou wouldst have her true  
Thou must give o'er thy wanton trade,  
And bid loose fires adieu:  
That Husband who would have his Wife  
To him continue chaste,  
In her embraces spends his life,  
And makes abroad no waste.    

Hymen and Juno.  

Sport then like Turtles, and bring forth  
Such pledges as may be  
Assurance of the Father's worth,  
And Mother's purity.  
Juno doth bless the Nuptial Bed,  
Thus Hymen's Torches burn.  
Live long, and may, when both are dead,  
Your Ashes fill one Urn.     

II. SONG.  
Entertainment of the Forests Queen.  

WElcome, thrice welcome to this shady Green,  
Our long wished Cinthia, the Forests Queen,  
The Trees begin to bud the glad Birds sing,  
In Winter changed by her into the Spring.   

We know no night,  
Perpetual light  
Dawns from your eye.  
You being near,  
We cannot fear,  
Though death stood by.   

From you our Swords take edge, our Hearts grow bold.  
From you in Fee, their lives your Liegemen hold.  
These Groves your Kingdom, and our Law your will;  
Smile, and we spare; but if you frown, we kill.   

Bless then the hour  
That gives the power  
In which you may,  
At Bed and Board  
Embrace your Lord  
Both night and day.   

Welcome, thrice welcome to this shady Green,  
Our long wished Cinthia, the Forests Queen.    

EPILOGUE.  

I Am left to inquire, than to relate  
To the still doubtful Author, at what rate  
His merchandise are valued. If they prove  
Staple Commodities in your Grace and love,  
To this last birth of his Minerva, he  
Vows, and we do believe him seriously,  
Sloth cast of, and all pleasures else declined,  
He'll search with his best care, until he find  
New ways, and make good in some laboured Song,  
Though he grow old, Apollo still is young.  
Cherish his good intentions, and declare  
By any sign of favour, that you are  
Well pleased, and with a general consent,  
And he desires no more encouragement.   
FINIS