THE Unhappy Kindness: OR A Fruitless Revenge.  
A TRAGEDY, As it is Acted at the Theatre Royal.  
Ad Generum Cereris sine caede, & sanguine pauci Descendunt Reges.  Juv. Sat. 10. 
Wrirten by Mr. SCOT.  
LONDON, Printed for H. Rhodes in Fleetstreet, S. Briscoe in , and R. Parker at the Royal Exchange. 1697.  

ADVERTISEMENT.  
THere is now in the Press, and will be speedily published a Collection of Familiar Letters on several occasions. Written by the Right Honourable John late Earl of Rochechester; the Honourable Algern. Sydnys Letter concerning Bribery and Arbitrary Government; and Mr. Otways Love Letters written to a Lady. Published from their Original Copies. Printed for Sam. Briscoe in .    

THE PREFACE.  
AMongst a number of New Plays that of late have crowded the Stage, I thought an old Subject, though for no other account than the Respect we are for the most part apt to pay Antiquity, might meet with some Civility; this was looked on by some, well versed in the Rules and Beauties of Poetry, as a Piece that would not be altogether unacceptable, provided it appeared with a new Air more agreeable to the Humour of the present Age. 'Tis true, I found myself deceived in the working it up, and perceived it required more labour than I at first designed it; for what with making some Characters entirely new, and reforming others, I found by that time I had done, I had little or none remaining but the Design: As it is, it may bear up in the Winter, notwithstanding the little Encouragement it met with at its first appearance from a thin Town, and the Scarcity of Money. I must own the Town has been very favourable to Me, and they who found nothing to commend, thought not fit to condemn what was writ purely for their Diversion. 'Tis true, every thing is not to be judged according to the Success it meets with on the Stage; 'tis an easier Task to divert than please, forasmuch as the first. like a sudden flash, strikes only on the Fancy; whilst the other is exposed to the Severity of Judgement and Reason. Alphonso's Character in the last Act looks as if I had been resolved, whatever Absurdities I committed, to make the Part for the Lines, and not the Lines for the Part, and therefore killed him in Opposition to a known Rule in Poetry: I am almost ready to confess it, though, how far I have transgressed therein let the Critic judge; if he is offended at his last Scene, let the rest, which are all new, plead in my Behalf; I'm sure it improved his Character, and, through the Excellence of the Action, appeared very beautiful on the Stage. The last Scene in the Third Act had the Misfortune to offend some, who are often more curious than becomes either their Modesty or good Manners; but that Man is in good hands, who has Pride and Affectation for his Judges.  
T. Scot   

PROLOGUE.  
Spoken by Mr. Verbruggen.  
I'M thinking, Sirs, how soon we are undone,  
Deserted thus by the inconstant Town.  
Where are those Friends, that did in numerous throngs  
Crowd to our Music, and applaud our Songs?  
Curse on this dull preposterous Soil! since all  
The Winter gave the Summer must recall;  
Tho more than Greenland Frosts prevailed elsewhere,  
Yet than you found a warm Reception here,  
But now Hyde-park scarce yields so fresh an Air.  
Well then, we have resolved, till your return,  
Since you, our Sovereigns, leave us, we'll adjourn;  
Only once more your Subjects humbly pray,  
You'd set your Hands to a few Acts to day;  
Some new, but made on purpose to unfold  
The meaning if the rest, long since grown old,  
By your famed Ancestors confirmed to th' Stage  
In Fletcher's time, the Muse's Golden Age:  
'Tis true, our Money may adulterate grow,  
But Wit must still from one pure Fountain flow;  
Pull not the well-placed Laurels from his Brow,  
What pleased them then, we hope will please you now.   

The EPILOGUE written, and spoke, by Mr. Haynes, in the Habit of a Horse Officer, mounted on an Ass.  

YOu have seen (before now) since this Shape-shewing age,  
More Asses than mine, on a Beau-crowded Stage.  
Wherefore by th' Example of Famed Dogget, my Brother,  
To show our Stage has Asses on't, as well as t' other;  
Thus mounted I'm come to invite ye oft hither,  
To Beaumond and Fletcher thus coupled together.  
My Fancy, his Judgement; my Person, his Face;  
With the mighty Interest he has in this place,  
(For indeed, as I'm told, but pray let me not wrong ye).  
My Ass has Relations, and Great ones among ye;  
In the Galleries, Side Boxes, on the Stage, in the Pit;  
What's your Critic? Your Beau? Your Keeper? Your Wit?   

Your Fight Ass is a Bully,  
Your Sneaking Ass is a Cit.,  
Your Keeping Ass is a Cully,  
But your Top, Prime Ass is your Wit.  
They all fool Cit of his Wife,  
He fools them all of their Pelf;  
But your Wit's so damned an Ass,  
He only fools himself!   

Writing one Play a Year, for a Wit he'd pass,  
His Lean Third Day makes out to him he's an Ass.  
Be'nt I an Ass now thus to mount my Brother;  
But he that's pleased with it too, is not he Another?  
Are we not Asses all (twixt me and you)  
To part with out Old Money till we were sure of New?  
Since than so many Asses here abound,  
Where an Eternal Link of Wit goes round,   

No Poet sure will think it a Disgrace,  
To be allied to This Accomplished Ass,  
For he's a great Critic you may read it in his Face.  
As for his Courage truly I can't say much,  
Yet he might serve for a Trooper among the Dutch.  
Tho, of their Side, In sure he'd never fight,  
His Passive Obedience shows I'm in the right.   Whips the Ass often, who by reason of the innate Dullness of the Beast never flnches for it. 

He's a Courtier fit to appear before a Queen;  
Advance Bucephalus, view but his Mein:  
Lady, I'm sure you like his spruce Behaviour,  
I ne'er knew aught but Asses in Their favour.  
Fair Ones, at what I say take no Offence!  
For—  
When his Degree a Lover does commence,  
You coin an Ass out of a Man of Sense.  
Your Beaus that soften so your flinty Hearts,  
They are Asses— Tailors make them Men of Parts.  
Now some have told me this might give Offence,  
That riding my Ass thus is riding th' Audience;  
But what of that? the Brother rides the Brother,  
The Son the Father; we All ride one another:  
Then for a Jest for this time let it pass,  
For he that takes it ill I'm Sure's an Ass.    

Dramatis Personae.  

MEN.  
ALphonso, King of Naples.  
Frederick, his Brother, and Usurper.  
Valerio, a Noble Neapolitan.  
Sorano, Frederick's Creature.  
Pisano, Petruchio, Alphonso's Friends:  
〈◊〉 An old Officer.  
Mr. Verbruggen.  
Mr. Harland.  
Mr. Williams.  
Mr. Disney.  
Mr. Mills.  
Mr. Hill.  
Mr. Neuth.   

Queen.  
〈…〉  
〈◊〉 Mother.  
Mrs. Rogers.  
Mrs. Powel.    


ACT I. SCENE I  Enter Sorano and Evanthe. Sorano. 
THus to adore, and thus to be rewarded,  
Still to desire, and still desire in vain;  
Is there no end of all my Miseries,  
And of your cruel and severe Disdain?  Evanthe. 
Alas! My Lord.  Sor. 
Can you have eyes to wound;  
Yet want those eyes to see the wounds you make?  
Why has Heaven given you Beauty to destroy,  
And not a Heart to pity these you kill?  
A long and tedious Service have I paid you;  
Even from your Childhood I have been your Slave,  
Courted the earliest glories of your Youth  
With the sincerest Love, before you was  
To others known, by me you was adored.  
Madam, I am—  Evan. 
You are indeed my Lord  
More than the nicest gratitude can speak you,  
Here on my Knees to the great Gods I witness,  
How much I love, how much I honour you,  
My Father and my Friend, even than a Friend,  
When Heaven itself had left me, severed me  
From the loved care of an indulgent Parent,  
Torn from my Arms all that was precious to me,  
All the dear blessings for which still I bowed  
In daily thanks before their sacred Altars.  
Even then, my Lord, your charitable hand  
Stood betwixt me and their severest anger;  
All this I own, and to the Gods dare speak it.  
But yet, my honoured Lord—  Sor. 
But yet Evanthe  
(Ungrateful I must call her) does reject  
All the Endearments of an humble Love,  
Contemns that hand that raised her thus to Life:  
Raised her above the reach of Fortune, made her  
The Idol of men's Hearts, and Subject of their Tongues.  Evan. 
Alas! my Lord, if a sincere Respect,  
Equal to that with which a pious Child  
Meets the kind blessings of a tender Parent,  
Are Marks of a Contempt, then let Heaven witness,  
Let Heaven and Earth witness against Evanthe:  
A more unworthy Wretch did never taste  
A good Man's bounty; this is all I have,  
How am I able then to pay you more.  Sor. 
Not more? Yes more than all the world can give,  
More than the Gods themselves, should they vouchsafe  
To crown Sorano with their choicest blessings.  
How cunningly you would decline my Suit,  
And knowing all, affect an Ignorance?  
Are then these sighs and tears, these eyes, that speak  
A passion far too great to be concealed;  
No better known, no better understood?  
Let me then on my Knees—  Evan. 
Let me on mine  
Entreat my Lord to pardon his Evanthe,  
If she confesses she can never love:  
Some secret power, too great to be withstood,  
Has thrown a fatal Bar between our Hearts,  
Parted our Souls never to meet in love.  Sor. 
Be it so then, and by that power I swear  
Never to court your scornful beauties more.  
But know proud Maid there is a Man adores you,  
Not all your artful Looks, your Woman's Pride,  
Nor the rough hand of fate itself, should that  
Stand betwixt him and his desires, can soften.  
The King, the haughty King, loves thee Evanthe,  
Dotes on thee even to Madness, and by Force  
Will gather all those Virgin Sweets, which I,  
With my best Services, could never merit.  
Go and prepare you for the royal Sport,  
Get to your Patches and your Paint, and try  
By Art to please this mighty man of power.  
Learn to look big, and strut it in the Court;  
YE have Pride enough, and there it will become you.  
But when ye have done the business you was raised for,  
When joys repeated dull the edge of Love,  
And amorous heat, then to the Stews convey you,  
There you may thrive, and there I hope to find you.  Exit. Evan. 
The King! the King's the Rock that must destroy me;  
Whose stubborn Will, blown by unbounded power,  
Runs o'er all Bars that check him in his Course.  
O my Valerio hasten to my succour,  
Let some kind power, the Witness of our Vows,  
Inform thy Soul how much Evanthe wants thee.  
The King! he shall be served; but how? not this way,  
Death is a ready Friend on all occasions,  
If I can't live a Saint, I'll die a Martyr.  Exit. Enter Q. Mother, Alphonso, Pisano, and Petruchio. Alph. 
Ha', ha', ha'! Indeed, Madam, you must pardon me. I grant you I can see every day a musty Churchman railing at Covetousness in one Room, and his Wife gaming in the next; a merry Poet laughing at a dapper Courtier, and a surly Officer grinning at him again; nay, a rich old Alderman inviting the young fellow home to dinner this morning, that lay with his Wife last night, and never be moved: but to see a great Man, nay a Prince dancing to every Fiddler—  Q. M. 
Why, who ever did?  Alph. 
Did you never? bless your good fortune then, for it would make your Heart ache to see as much as I have.  Q. M. 
Nay, gentle Son.  Alph. 
Nay, gentle Mother, I know what you would say; you would ask me what I want, and alas I want many things; 'twould puzzle a Lawyer's Atithmetick to reckon how many things I want. But in the first place I want a Wife, for between you and me, Madam, what should such tall overgrown fellows, like myself, live any longer without Wives? I know you'll say they make Fools of us, why be it so, I have been my own Fool long enough, 'tis time now I should be some one's else; for would one think it, nay friends you must bear me witness too, would one think it.  Q. M. 
Think what, Son?  Alph. 
Nay nothing, never think on't, my brains are almost turned with thinking.  Q. M. 
For which of all my sins have I deserved this Curse?  Alph. 
What you weep now, and perhaps 'tis for my Father; and yet I have seen some women, and they wise ones too, do as much for the loss of a Lap-dog; but, Madam, tell me, did you ever see a Lawyer with a Fee in both hands?  Q. M. 
Belike I have.  Alph. 
Why then you saw the Picture of Justice, you'll find his Breviate pinned to his back.  Q. M. 
Alas, my Son, these are disjointed Speeches,  
The issue of a racked distempered brain.  Alph. 
That's as much as to say I am a Fool, or a Madman; but go tell my Brother on't, he'll thank you for the discovery; for let me tell you, if 'twas not for Fools, what business would Knaves have in this world.  Q. M. 
To see him thus, his Soul thus lost in darkness,  
Is worse than death: ye Gods why did his youth  
Disclose such early hopes of future greatness,  
That blasted  age could secure 'em to us.  
Why in the Man do we with sorrow miss,  
What in the Child we did with joy admire?  Alph. 
If the King would make me a Privy Councillor, as I may grow great before I die, I'd advise him to think more, and talk less, 'twill become his greatness, for now adays there is but this difference betwixt your Wise man and your Fool, the Wise man laughs at other men's Jests, and the Fool always at his own, like a Cat playing with her own Tail, and so tickles himself with his own fingers.  Q. M. 
Observe him Gentlemen, and whatsoever  
A poor unhappy woman's Love can pay  
You may rest well assured of.  Pis. 
We thank your Grace, our best care shall attend him.  Exit Q. M. Alph. 
So now I'm free, was ever Love and Pity  
Unwelcome to a Wretch like me before?  
Then when she follows, and pursues me most,  
Then when she courts me with her tenderest love,  
I eat her most.  
A Mother's blessing is become my curse.  Pis. 
My Lord your causeless fears create this trouble,  
Whilst even to her you dare not own yourself,  
Whom above all the world you ought to trust.  
Disclose yourself in time, and make the Queen  
A happy Partner of the mighty secret.  Alph. 
No, though a Queen she is a woman still,  
A tender Mother, and who knows, my Friend,  
How far her woman's weakness may betray her  
Whilst my Head wants that Crown, to which she bore me,  
And I live thus neglected and despised,  
To her I must be mad Alphonso still.  
But when my honourable friends we have finished  
The glorious task the Gods have laid out for us,  
Then like her first born Son she shall behold me,  
Confessed a Monarch, and the Lord of power,  
In whate'er you command we shall obey.  
Methinks I see this proud imperious Traitor,  
This beast of Prey that ruins all about him,  
Thrown by the hand of Fate from all his glories,  
Th' untimely fruits of Parricide, and Treason.  
Villain that in the midst of feigned pretence,  
And smooth expressions of fair Filial duty,  
Whilst on his Knees he begged a Father's blessing,  
Dared do a deed would damn one but to think on.  Pis. 
Thus mischief ever wears the clearest brow,  
And like deep waters appears calm and gentle.  Petr. 
'Twas difficult to hid his practices;  
Blood cries aloud, and had it once alarmed  
The People's Hearts, sure Frederick had wanted  
That Crown which through such villainies he catched at.  Al. 
The People? a dull senseless lump of Clay,  
Rude and unformed, fitted for any impression  
The cunning Artist will impose upon it.  
You know the Story (To Pisano) how by subtle poison  
He took my Brother's life, attempted mine,  
But the infusion met with a resistance  
Too strong to be o'repowered: howe'er he thought  
I lost, what more than Life Men ought to value,  
My Reason;  
For by your Father's Counsel I put on  
This outward form of madness, to secure me  
From any second blow, the event answered  
Our expectations, for being thus despised  
I live below his fears.  Petr. 
But sure my Lord,  
The Sword of Justice, and Brandino's power,  
Had been a safer, and far nobler refuge.  
Why did you not inform your Royal Father,  
Of that dire Plague, that Instrument of Hell,  
Which at last fell on his devoted head?  Alp. 
Alas we did, but we did all in vain.  
For the cursed Traitor, skilled i'th' arts of Court,  
Had so prevailed, so won on his belief,  
That 'twas as easy to persuade my Brother  
To be what he was not, as make Brandino  
Believe him what he was; besides my Father  
Had nothing but the empty name of King,  
The shadow left him; for my Brother knew  
The Power lay lodged in bold Sorano's hands,  
The cursed complotter of his dark designs.  
But no more, fate that by them thought fit to punish me,  
By me at length, I hope, will punish them.  Petr. 
My honoured Lord, where e'er You lead we'll follow  
With an assurance that becomes our cause.  Alp. 
Nay 'tis a glorious one, and may be worthy  
The admiration of succeeding ages.  
'Tis such a one those brave Old Roman Hero's▪  
Did they now live, would gladly be embarked in.  
Who is there living, that e'er heard of honour,  
Or owned the motions of a generous Spirit,  
Would tamely lie under th' imperious hand  
The proud disdain of an Usurping Tyrant.  
Whip him ye Gods! aim all your Thunders at him!  
Let furies haunt his Dreams, distrust and care  
Hang on his thoughts, and poison all his pleasures.  Petr. 
My Lord, old Pedro, who has placed his Men  
In the most secret corners of the City  
Willed me t' inform you that the time calls on us▪  
That all things now are ripe for Execution;  
This morning he commands the Guard, by which means  
The Gates will all be open to receive 'em.  Alph. 
Then e'er to Morrow's dawn my Brother sets,  
For ever sets in a dread Cloud of Blood  
Naples once more shall raise her drooping head,  
Whose rugged Virtues, hardened by Afflictions,  
Shall be the wonder of this lower World,  
And like old Rome give Laws to th' Universe.  Pis. 
My honoured Lord pardon your Loyal Slave,  
Who with the foremost wishes to behold  
That happy day, and never will know quiet  
Till we are Masters of our great design;  
Yet in my humblest duty I affirm  
This day 'twill be impossible to effect 'em.  Alp. 
Impossible! were he like Jove himself  
Closed round with Thunder, a guard of Gods,  
Whose every look might awe the Universe,  
Yet than it would not be impossible:  
What can be so to minds resolved like ours?  
But does he not lie open to destruction▪  
Do not his Friends, that live upon his smiles,  
Raised by his favours from the lowest Earth,  
Do not even they both fear, and hate the Tyrant?  
Nay like base Slaves would help his ruin forward.  
Is there a Sword in Naples will be Idle,  
Will not strike home, when the great Gods shall call,  
And lead us on to Liberty and Peace?  Pis. 
My Lord, all this I grant, and more, but yet—  Alp. 
But what?  
Grant me but this, and what more can we ask for  
The Gods are kind, we wanting to ourselves;  
Unstable unresolved; like heartless fools,  
That still in expectation lose fruition.  
I will not trust my fate to another hazard,  
To be as great as fortune e'er can make me.  
At length we have got th' unruly beast at bay,  
On every side hemmed in with sure destruction,  
And shall we now forego our certain hopes,  
Trust to the bounty of another hour,  
When this has given us more than we dared hope for?  Pis. 
My Lord, You used to be more moderate.  Alp. 
I'm moderate still, but Vengeance cries aloud.  
Blood! Treason! Parricide! Who is there living  
Can think of these, and keep his usual Temper?  
Yet after all the labours of my Soul,  
Th' Indignities I have with patience born,  
To make revenge my own, which now seems ripe;  
Waits on our Swords, and sues for Execution,  
Thou goest about to blunt the edge of Justice,  
And calmly criest it is impossible.  Pis. 
My Lord, I hate this Tyrant more than you,  
My Father's Murder, Brother's Banishment,  
My own disgrace, have sworn me to his ruin.  
Yet when you have heard the reasons I shall urge,  
Not to rebate or slacken your just Anger,  
But to draw back your arm, that with a force  
Greater and surer it may execute,  
What Heaven, and your resentments have determined:  
You'll think your Servant has not judged amiss.  
'Tis on this day th' Young Soldier brave Valerio,  
Whose active Sword deserves a worthier Cause,  
In warlike form makes his triumphant entry:  Alp. 
Still, still the better; Can we choose a day  
Fit for our design? but that I've known thee  
Of an experienced faith, I should mistrust thee.  
Then when his Slaves in their repeated Io's,  
Their l ud applauses, raise him to the Skies,  
And place another's Laurels on his brows,  
Then, then to clip the Wings of this proud Falcon,  
When he soars highest, and sink him down to Hell,  
Will be added to mount us up to Heaven.  Pis. 
But Heaven is sooner scaled than this performed,  
I mean this way, for sure my honoured Lord  
Has not forgot the custom of his Naples;  
On the return of her Victorious Sons,  
Who have with foreign Nations fought her battles,  
None are t' appear in Arms, the day of Triumph;  
Throughout the City or the Court, but those  
The General shall appoint; to show,  
That he who fought so well abroad, deserves  
To rule at home: Shall we then to trust our fortunes  
To the success of such a rash attempt?  
Suppose us armed, yet how can we prevail  
'Gainst such a multitude that will oppose us?  Alp. 
No matter, we are now by much too forward  
To talk of going back, it will not be,  
Surely fate interposes, and unravels  
What our best care has been so long designing.  
Must then my Soul be still locked up in Prison  
Furl'd up in darkness and the Womb of Night,  
ne'er to walk forth again in her own Majesty?  
Why have I reason and yet dare not use it?  
A Soul for Empire born, yet live a Slave?  
I'll do't myself: methinks I do behold  
My Royal Father, and my murdered Brother,  
From yon blue orb inciting me to action.  
Now their pale Ghosts, all trembling full of horror,  
Just as they fell, bloated with rankest poison,  
In piteous action urge me to revenge:  
Rest, rest in the cold beds of silent death,  
Till loud revenge shall raise you, to behold,  
And wonder at my Justice, then in a peal of Thunder  
Let conscious Heaven applaud my ministering hand.  Pis. 
My Lord, the day succeeding this o'th' Triumph,  
It being that on which he first was Crowned,  
The Tyrant dedicates to ease, and pleasure,  
What hinders but we then complete his ruin?  
The Gates lie open to receive all Strangers,  
That come to grace his Pride, and praise his Fortunes.  Alp. 
O my best Friend, had I the World to give,  
It should be thine for such another thought:  
To do it then, will look as if high Heaven  
Had still presided o'er our pious Counsels,  
And th' hand of fate had led us to his ruin.  
Hast my Petruchio, tell old honest Pedro,  
The Gods are met in Council to determine,  
And bless our high resolves: the Circle of his Reign  
Gins to be complete; the Sun, that gave  
His Empire birth, must light him to his Grave.  Exeunt.  

ACT II. SCENE I.  Enter Frederick and Sorano. Fred. 
COME to my Arms, my Father, Brother, Friend.  
To thee thy Frederick owes his Life, and Crown,  
And what he values more than both, his Love,  
To thee he owes Evanthe, his Evanthe;  
Shall she be mine? Shall the kind tender fair one  
Soften the troubles of ill purchased power,  
And Usurpation? Shall the Charms of Love  
Silence the clamours of a guilty Conscience?  Sor. 
She shall be yours, she is already so;  
Sorano is the Slave of your desires,  
Ready to fling his Soul upon your Service,  
Nay more his Love; for know I love her too;  
My active Father, when he first informed  
My Mother what a Woman was, ne'er knew,  
Desires like mine; but yet she shall be yours:  
I that have made you great will make you happy.  Fr. 
Friend! Father! Brother! are too feeble names  
T' express my Love; I'll call thee my Sorano.  
How has my Youth been hitherto misled?  
Restless ambition, and the thirst of Empire,  
Hung, like an Ague on my active Spirits,  
Till beauty came to thaw the restiff Mass,  
New framed my Soul, and taught me how to love.  Sor. 
Love then, and give a lose to your desires,  
Let your Soul revel in those Charms, that drew  
Great Jove himself from his Celestial Throne,  
To taste on Earth Joys he ne'er knew in Heaven.  Fred. 
Yes I will Love, but I'll Love like a King;  
Not quit my Majesty to be a Slave.  
Whine out an Amorous tale, and dully ask,  
On my Knees ask, for what I can Command.  
In Thunder I'll embrace this Semele.  Sor. 
First try by gentle means to win her Love;  
If those fall short, then force her to your Arms:  
I've sent my Man unto her,  
Upon some private business to come presently,  
Hither she'll come, Your Grace dare speak unto her  
Large golden promises and sweet Language, Sir  
You know what they work, she's a complete Courtier.  Enter Servant. Ser. 
My Lord, your Servant waits.  Sor. 
Bid him come in, and bring the Lady with him,  
She's coming in Sir.  Eu. 
Whither dost thou go?  
This is the King's side, and his private Lodgings,  
I have no private business through his Chambers,  
To seek him this way; O my life I find it,  
Thou art Drunk, or worse, hired to convey me hither  
For some base end. The King here, and Sorano?  
I find I'm trapped; now gentle Love inspire me,  
And Honour help in this unequal Combat.  Sor. 
Nay shrink not back, the good King will not hurt you,  
He Honours you, and Loves you.  Eu. 
My Lord, you once did Love, and Honour me,  
So you have told me oft, and I believed it.  Sor. 
I do so still, my labours to advance you  
Proclaim aloud how much I honour you.  Fred. 
Gentle Evanthe!  Eu. 
The gentle Queen is well I hear, and now returning home.  Fr. 
I talk not of the Queen, I talk of thee, sweet Flower.  Eu. 
Your Grace is pleasant to mistake a Nettle for a Rose.  Fr. 
No Rose nor Lily, nor no glorious Hyacinth,  
Are of that Whiteness, Sweetness, Tenderness,  
Softness, and satisfying blessedness,  
As my Evanthe!  Eu. 
Your Grace speaks very seelingly,  
I would not be a handsome Wench in your way  
For a new Gown.  Fr. 
Thou art all handsomeness,  
Nature will be ashamed to frame another,  
Now thou art made, thoust robbed her of her cunning.  
But Love Evanthe!  Eu. 
Good your Grace be patiented,  
I shall make the worst honourable Wench;  
Shame your Discretion, and your Choice.  Fr. 
Thou shalt not.  Eu. 
Shall I be Rich do you say and Glorious?  Fr. 
Thou shalt be any thing.  Eu. 
Let me be honest too, and then I'll thank you.  
Have you not such a Title to bestow too?  
If I prove otherwise, I would know but this,  
Can all the power you have, or all the Riches,  
But tie Men's Tongues up from discoursing of me,  
Their Eyes from gazing at my glorious folly,  
Time that shall come from wondering at my impudence,  
And they that read my wanton life, from Curses.  Fr. 
Stay Evanthe I'll Marry thee.  Eu. 
What shall the Queen do then?  Fr. 
I'll be Divorced from her.  Eu. 
Can you tell why, What has she done against you?  
Has she contrived a Treason 'gainst your Person,  
Abused your bed, does disobedience urge you?  Fr. 
'Tis all one, 'tis my will.  Eu. 
'Tis a most wicked one,  
A most absurd one, and will show a Monster.  
I had rather be a Whore, and with less sin,  
To your present Lust, than Queen to your injustice.  
I'll tell your Grace, so Dear I hold the Queen.  
I'd first take me for my Love a Moor,  
One of your Galleyslaves, that cold, and hunger,  
Decripit misery had made a mock Man,  
Than be your Queen.  Fr. 
You are bravely resolute.  Eu. 
I had rather be a Leper, and be shunned,  
And die by pieces, rot into my Grave,  
And leave no memory behind to know me,  
Than be a high Whore to eternity.  Fr. 
Now my Sorano, where's that Resolution,  
On which I fond thought to build my Love?  
Behold that frown; each look, each word she speaks.  
At once inflame, and check my strong desires,  
I'm like a wretched Slave, half starved to Death,  
That has within his view a goodly Feast,  
Yet dares not with one Morsel save his Life.  Sor. 
I know not what to think, some other gamester  
Holds her in play, she durst not slight you else.  Fr. 
I'll find him out, tho' he lie next her heart;  
Too cruel Maid will nothing win your Love?  
Brought you those Excellencies to the World  
To lock 'em in a Case, or hang 'em by you?  
The use is all Nature bestowed 'em sor.  Eu. 
But how to use 'em right will be the hazard.  
What's Beauty with a lame decripit Soul?  
Honour and Riches with a guilty Conscience?  
A poor unhappy Orphan this Lord found me,  
When I had nothing I could call my own;  
But a variety of misery,  
And with a tender hand relieved my wants;  
Preferred me to your Noble Lady's Service,  
Now my most Gracious Queen: where I have learned  
And daily fed upon her virtuous precepts;  
Still growing strong by example of her goodness:  
And shall I now dare once but think to wrong her?  
To violate the chaste Joys of her Bed?  
Then farewell Virtue, and all truth in Woman.  
You may find time out in Eternity,  
Deceit, and Violence in heavenly Justice,  
Life in the Grave, and Death among the blessed,  
Sooner than tempt me to your vain illusions.  Exit. Fr. 
She's gone and flew like swiftest Lightning from me,  
But left a sting behind her as she went.  
Shall I that broke all bars, that could oppose me  
In my pursuit of large imperial power,  
And in a Purple torrent swum to Empire,  
Bear any opposition in my Love:  
I must, Sorano, Frederick must enjoy her,  
Tho' she turns fury in my circling Arms,  
And breaths forth in her Kisses swift destruction.  Sor. 
Strive for the present to compose yourself,  
And with fair Signs of Love receive Valerio,  
Tho' you have marked him down for death smile on him.  Fr. 
Yes my Sorano, the proud Slave must die;  
For I remember in my Father's time,  
Who bred him with his Sons, one Table said,  
One Tutor taught, and one Purse still supplied us;  
How he in scorn would laugh at my slow progress,  
●…th' Exercises he grew Master of,  
Outrivalling my best performances;  
For which I then did envy, and still hate him.  
Besides he grows too popular, and looks  
With a suspicious Eye upon my greatness.  Sor. 
Think him, my Lord, and cursed Alphonso nothing,  
Whom, though distracted, still the People love,  
Death waits my pleasure and stands ready for 'em.  Enter Alphonso with Priuli and 2 or 3 Courtiers more. Alph. 
You say true, my Lord, Jason was the man; but what are the times to us? they'll burst and stink when once they are swollen with Surfeits; stink so abominably that all the world shall smell 'em.  Pr. 
What saith my Lord?  Alph. 
I say 'tis possible for poor men to offend, and great forgive, but it must not be in the Dog-days. Was you ever in Love?  1. Cour. 
Yes, my good Lord.  Alph. 
If you have a strong faith than you may be saved, but you must first learn to ravish twenty or thirty coy Wenches in a morning; though here they are so willing 'tis a compliment, for Sir you may be a Bawd, and yet counted an honest man.  Fr. 
How do you Brother?  Alph. 
Well, I thank you, sound in body, and in my right wits; though some hold there's a great difference between a high born Princess and a Cowkeepers Daughter, but of this you may consult your Council.  Fr. 
Trust me! it makes me weep to see you thus.  Al. 
I would bear you Company, but the world goes on so merrily I can't find in my heart, ha', ha', ha'! Do you see that old Lord there? he lost his wits for want of preferment; but bush you'll tell the King. Your pardon, my Lord I did not see you.  Sor. 
My Lord Alphonso.  Alph. 
Wipe your mouth before you speak, my Lord, you'll spoil your Speech else.  A warlike Shout within. The Scene draws and discovers a Royal Throne on which the King places himself, than Valerio enters in a Triumphal wanner, being ushered in with a Song. Fr. 
Rise, to my arms, Valerio  
And as a just Reward of all thy Labours  
Accept my Love, and to confirm that Love,  
Ask what thou wilt, thou shalt not ask in vain;  
Instruct thy King, teach him what he must do  
To show how much be loves such early virtue.  Val. 
Low on my Knees I thank my royal Master,  
And may I be most infamously wretched,  
When I forget my Duty to my King.  
Thus then encouraged I dare boldly ask,  
Not as a just Reward to crown my labours,  
For know, Sir, 'tis a gift above all merit;  
Were I as great as ever Caesar was,  
Like Pompey just, or Alexander valiant;  
Were all th' exalted Virtues of mankind  
Blended together to inform one Soul.  
Were that Soul placed in a majestic body,  
Blessed with an everlasting youth and beauty,  
Yet would Evanthe far exceed that wonder.  
And her your Soldier asks for on his knees;  
Join you our hands, my Lord, as Love has joined our hearts.  Fr. 
Ha', my Sorano! dost thou hear the Traitor?  Val. 
Evanthe sent Valerio to the field,  
For her I suffered all the toils of War;  
Summer Fateigues, and tedious Winter Colds:  
Evanthe led the Soldier forth to fight,  
Evanthe gave the word of battle, fought,  
Conquered, and here she comes to crown my Triumph.  Enter Evanthe. Evan. 
And here she comes to die within these Arms,  
If Fate has not ordained she should live there.  Val. 
Live and breed wonders for succeeding ages,  
Be like a never emptied spring of joys,  
Sweeter than life, lovely as spotless honour;  
Here let me press thee in the arms of Love,  
Close to my breast, to which thou art far dearer  
Than my own heart that sallies forth to meet thee.  Evan. 
What shall I say to answer all thy kindness?  
I love like thee, but have no time to talk;  
But fly to view the mansion of my bliss,  
Where my blessed ears so often have been fed  
With the soft notes of kind indulgent love;  
My busy eyes in haste survey thee round,  
For fear I should be torn for ever from thee,  
Before they have renewed their old acquaintance.  Val. 
For fear thou shouldst be torn for ever from me?  
Life cannot part, and Death shall ne'er divide us.  
So well Valerio loves thee, O Evanthe,  
That to be thine for one short month I'd give  
My present fortune, hopes of future greatness,  
That scene of joys which I still hope to find  
Lasting as age in my Evanthe's arms.  
The Sun may move and change the face of Nature;  
we'll know no change, but blessed in one another,  
Eternal love and never fading pleasures  
Shall fill the course of each revolving year.  Fr. 
Guards separate those two.  Val. 
What means your Highness?  Fr. 
To interrupt you, Sir, lest you should surfeit,  
And lose yourself in your imagined bliss.  
Thou rash presumptuous Fool! that art so prodigal  
Of love and service, but much more of thy life.  Val. 
I was, Sir, once, when in the face of Death  
I fought the Cause of an ungrateful Master.  
What have I done, Sir, to deserve your anger?  
If it be error to desire to marry,  
And marry her that Sanctity would dote on,  
I have done amiss; if it be a Treason  
To graft my Soul to Virtue, and to grow there,  
To love the Tree that bears such happiness;  
Nay, to desire to taste too, I am a Traitor.  
Had you but Plants enough of this blessed Tree,  
Set round about your Court to beautify it,  
Deaths twice as many to dismay th' Approachers,  
The ground would scarce yield Graves to noble Lovers.  Pis. aside to Al. 
This goes as we could wish, for now Valerio  
Enraged at Frederick's unjust Refusal,  
Will with more ease be won to our Desires,  
Love and Revenge have made him ours already.  Al. 
Love and Revenge? will those two powerful Ministers  
Prevail with him that's deaf to Honours call?  
Can he, who has with Resolution born  
On his Sword's point the Quarrel of a Nation,  
Yield up his Life so tamely for a Woman?  
Howe'er I'll take him when his manlier Virtues  
Sat o'er his Soul, and bring him home to honour.  Val. 
As for my Life I've hitherto preserved it,  
And wear it now only to do you service.  
How I have served you, Sir, these here can witness;  
I have some wounds too may plead strongly for me.  
But since you have denied my first Request,  
All other Offers, though it was your Crown,  
Bright as it is, I would with scorn look down on.  Fr. 
'Tis well maintained. Just now I think you wished  
So much you dote upon your own undoing,  
But for one month t' enjoy her as your Wife,  
Tho at th'expiring of that time you die for it.  Val. 
I could wish many ages, Sir,  
To grow as old as Time in her Embraces,  
If Heaven would grant it and you-smile upon it,  
But if my Choice were two hours and then perish,  
I would not pull my Heart back.  Fr. 
You have your wish,  
Immediately I'll see you nobly married.  
Your time take out in all content and pleasure,  
But when that time's expired you must die for it.  
Kneel not; not all your Prayers can divert me.  
'Tis true, immediate Death should be your doom,  
But you have done some service that pleads for you.  
Now mark your Sentence, mark it scornful Lady,  
If, when Valerio's dead, within twelve hours,  
For that's your latest time, you find not out  
Another Husband on the same condition,  
To marry you again, you die yourself too.  Eu. 
Now you are merciful, I thank your Grace.  Fr. 
If when ye are married you but seek t' escape  
Out of the Kingdom, you, or she, or both;  
Or to infect men's minds with hot Commotions.  
You die both instantly: will you love me now Lady;  
My Tale will now be heard, but now I scorn you.  Exit cum Sur. Eu. 
Is our fair Love, our honest and entire,  
Come to this hazard.  Val. 
'Tis a noble one!  
Envy could not have studied me a way,  
Nor Fortune pointed out a Path to Honour  
Straighter, and nobler, if she had her Eyes.  
When I have once enjoyed my sweet Evanthe,  
And blessed my Youth with her most dear Embraces,  
I have done my Journey here, my Day is out;  
All that the world has else is foolery;  
Labour, and loss of time; what should I live for?  
Think but Man's life a month, and we are happy.  
A Paradise, as thou art my Evanthe,  
Is only made to wonder at a little,  
Enough for humane Eyes, and then to wander from  
Come grudge not my felicity,  Eu. 
I'll to the Queen his Mother.  Val. 
Do any thing that's honest,  
But if you sue to him in death I hate you.  Ex. Eu. 
Friends we must have a Masque, I think Camillo,  
You are a Poet, pray let me beg this courtesy.  Cam. 
I'm glad to see you merry, Sir.  Val. 
Twoved make you merry had you such a Wife,  
And such an age t' enjoy her in.  Men. 
An age, Sir.  Val. 
Is't not age to him that is contented?  
What should I seek for more? such Youth and Beauty.  Cl. 
We confess you happy, but on what Price, my Lord?  Val. 
IT were nothing else,  
No Man can ever come to aim at Heaven,  
But through the knowledge of an Hell. Who would live long?  
Who would be old? 'tis such a weariness,  
Such a disease, it hangs like Lead upon us,  
As it increases, so vexations,  
Griefs of the Mind, Pains of the feeble Body,  
Rheums, Coughs, Catarrhs, we are but our living Coffins.  
Besides the fair Soul's old too, it grows covetous,  
Which shows all Honour is departed from us,  
And we are Earth again.  Cl. 
You make fair use, Sir.  Val. 
I would not live to learn to lie, Cleanthes,  
For all the world; old men are prone to that too  
Thou that hast been a Soldier Menallo,  
Adopted thy brave Arm the Heir to Victory  
Wouldst thou live so long till thy strength forsook thee,  
Till thou grew'st only a long tedious Story,  
Of what thou hast been, till thy Sword hung by.  
And lazy Spiders filled the Hilt with Cobwebs?  Men. 
No sure I would not.  Val. 
'Tis not fit thou shouldst,  
To die a Young man is to be an Angel,  
Our great good parts put Wings upon our Souls.  
They stay sure, come; I hear the Music call us.  Exit with Camillo. Men. 
We will attend you; Marriage and Hanging go by Destiny; 'tis the old Proverb, now they come together, here comes the Ld. Alphonso: how happy had we been if he had reigned.  Enter Alphonso. Al. 
Tho he is hasty, and his Anger Death,  
His Will like Torrents not to be resisted,  
Yet Law and Justice go along to guide him;  
And what Law or what Justice can he find  
To justify his Will?  Cl. 
He seems concerned.  Men. 
One of his melancholy Fits that ne'er last long.  Alp. 
Yet after all Death is unwelcome never,  
Unless it be to tortured and sick Souls.  
That make their own Hells here on Earth.  
The poor Slave that lies private, has his Liberty  
As amply as his Master in the Grave;  
The Earth as light upon him, and the Flowers  
That grow about him, smell as sweet and flourish.  
But whensoever it comes crowned with Honour,  
When Memory and Virtue are our Mourners,  
What pleasures shall we then find in the Grave!  Cl. 
How does your Lordship?  Al. 
Very well; one, two, three, you can't hurt me for all that.  Cl. 
What thinks your Lordship of this Wedding.  Alp. 
They have given him a hot Custard, and mean to burn his mouth with it.  Men. 
Pray, my Lord, what News? these Wars have made us Strangers to the Court.  Alp. 
You may be honest, and grow old as I am, and blow your fingers ends.  Men. 
My Lord, that's no News.  Alp. 
You may be Knaves then when you please, stark Knaves, and build fair Houses, but your Heirs shall have none of 'em.  Men. 
These are undoubted.  Al. 
Truth is not worth the hearing: I'll tell you News then, there was a drunken Sailer that got a Mermaid with Child as she went a milking, and now she sues him in the Bawdy Court for it; the Infant Monster is brought up in Fish street.  Cl. 
Ay, this is something.  Al. 
I'll tell you more, because ye are Soldiers; there was a Fish taken, a monstrous Fish, with a Sword by his side, a long Sword, a Pike in his Neck, and a Gun in his Nose, and Letters of Mart in his Mouth, from the Duke of Florence.  Men. 
With submission, my Lord, this sounds something oddly.  Al. 
I do confess it; do you think I would tell you truths, that dare not hear'em? You are honest things, we Courtiers scorn to converse with.  Men. 
He'll grow mad anon and beat us, let us to the Masque.  Exeunt. Al. 
Can there be any nature so unnoble,  
Or anger so inhuman to pursue this?  
Yes he, that could not hear the voice of nature  
That called aloud, when by his barbarous hands  
A Father fell, will have his Ears sealed up  
In the commission of a meaner Act  Enter Pedro, Pisano, and Petruchio. Ped. 
Married! yes, when I mean to be hanged; 'tis the surer Contract.  Al. 
Was not the Monster ripe for Hell already,  
He should live something longer, to complete  
This last design, and make his damning sure.  Ped. 
Why don't we about it then? What do we stand preaching for? You, my Lords, may have your quirks and quiddles, your times and occasions; but I know no more than a Word and a Blow; let us first cut his throat, and talk on't afterwards.  Al. 
Nay we'll do more than talk, the fatal thread.  
Which held the Sword of Justice o'er his head.  
HE has cut himself to make destruction sure.  
The evening of his Reign draws on apace,  
But if we done't with timely care prevent him.  
He'll mark his way with ruin as he falls.  
And like a fiery Meteor set in blood.  Ped. 
Why, so it be his own 'tis no matter. Why are we not in arms, and the whole City given to know—  Al. 
Discreetly and privately it must be done, 'twill miss else, and prove our ruins; when you all hear the Castle Bell take courage and stand like Men; mean time be near his person to avoid suspicion. I must into the presence, my Mother's fears will work else.  Exit cum Pisano and Petruchio. Scene draws and discovers the Court seated for the Masque, that ended the King speaks. Fr. 
Come to the Banquet, Sir, when that's ended  
I'll see you in your Bed, and then good night.  
Be merry; you have a sweet Bedfellow.  Val. 
I thank your Grace, and ever shall be bound unto your Nobleness.  Fr. 
I pray I may deserve that thanks, set forward.  Exeunt Omnes  

ACT III. SCENE I.  Sorano Solus. Sor. 
TO love and be with Scorn and Pride rejected,  
To see another revel in those Joys,  
Those sweet Delights, I now must never hope for!  
Love at the best, though crowned with soft compliance,  
Is but a sickly transport of the mind,  
A weakness wise men ever were ashamed of;  
Then when 'tis hopeless, what brave Soul can bear it?  
Yet still I love, and loving must enjoy.  
I feel that Fire I once hoped quite extinct,  
Dilate itself with a redoubled fury.  
The King, and this Valerio stand betwixt  
Me and my hopes; therefore both shall die.  
Him I'll make odious for Valerio's death,  
And mad Alphonso's, what's the consequence?  
The people, mischief-ripe, raised by my power,  
Shall kill the Tyrant, and at once make way  
For Love and my Ambition. Here comes one  
Ripe for the combat, and those fancied joys  
Which like a shadow still shall fly before him.  Enter Val. Val. 
They drink abundantly, I'm hot with Wine too,  
Lustily warm. I'll steal now to my happiness  
'Tis midnight, and the silent hours invite me.  
The Dew of Wine and Sleep hang on their Eyelids;  
Steep their dull senses in the healths they drink,  
That I may quickly find my loved Evanthe.  Sor. 
How brisk he is; but I shall quickly cool him,  
Make him wish he were dead on's Marriage night,  
Or bedrid with old age.  Val. 
Is not the end of our ambitions,  
Of all our humane studies,  
Obtaining of our wishes?  
Certain it is; and there man makes his centre.  
I have my wish, what's left me to accuse now?  
I'm friends with all the world but thy base malice.  To Sor. 
Go, glory in thy mischiefs, thou proud man,  
And cry it to the world thou hast ruined virtue.  Sor. 
You'll sing me a new Song anon Valerio,  
And wish these hot words—  Val. 
I despise thee fellow,  
Thy threats, or flatteries, all I fling behind me,  
I have obtained Evanthe, I have married her,  
And Fate shall not withhold me from enjoying her.  Sor. 
'Tis very likely,  Val. 
And that short time I have to bless me with her,  
I'll make an age. I'll reckon each embrace  
A year of pleasure, and each night a jubilee;  
Every quick kiss a spring, and when I mean  
To lose myself in all delightfulness,  
Twenty sweet Summers I will tie together,  
I will die old in love, though young in pleasure:  Sor. 
But that I hate thee deadly, I could pity thee;  
Thou art the poorest miserable thing  
This day on earth, I'll tell thee why Valerio:  
All thou esteemest, and buildest upon for happiness,  
For joy, for pleasure, for delight, is passed thee,  
And like a wanton dream already vanish.  Val. 
Is my Love false?  Sor. 
No, she is constant to thee;  
Constant to all thy misery she shall be,  
And curse thee too.  Val. 
Is my strong body weakened,  
Charmed, or abused with subtle drink?  Sor. 
Neither; I dare speak thee still as lusty,  
As when thou lov'dst her first, as strong and hopeful.  
The month th' hast given thee is a month of misery,  
And where thou thinkest each hour shall yield a pleasure,  
Look for a kill pain, for thou shalt find it.  
Before thou diest each minute shall prepare it,  
And ring so many Knells to sad afflictions.  Val. 
Undo thy Riddle, I am prepared whatever fate shall follow.  Sor. 
Dost thou see this Ring?  Val. 
Yes, and know it too; 'tis the King's.  Sor. 
Then mark me, by virtue of this Ring this I pronounce thee, 'Tis the King's will.  Val. 
Let me know it suddenly.  Sor. 
If thou dost offer to touch Evanthe's body,  
Beyond a kiss, though thou art married to her,  
And lawfully, as thou thinkest, mayst enjoy her,  
That minute she shall die.  Val. 
O Devil—  Sor. 
If thou discover this command unto her,  
Or to a Friend that shall importune thee,  
Ye both perish.  
Upon the self same forfeit; how falls your month out now, Sir?  
Now if you love her you may preserve her life still,  
If not you know the worst.  Val. 
This Tyranny could never be invented  
But in the Schools of Hell, Earth is too innocent,  
Not to enjoy her when she is my Wife:  
Thou canst not be so monstrous,  
As thou proclaimest thyself; thou once didst Love her;  
And there must be a feeling heart within thee,  
Of her afflictions, wert thou a stranger to us,  
And bred amongst wild Rocks, thy nature wild too,  
And unrelenting, as the Rocks that nourished thee,  
Yet thou must shake to tell me this, they tremble,  
When the rude Sea threatens divorce amongst 'em,  
They that are senseless things shake at a Tempest.  
Thou art a Man—  Sor. 
Be thou then too. 'twill try thee,  
And patience now will best become thy Nobleness.  
See you observe it well, you will find about you  
Many eyes set, that will observe your Actions  
If you transgress, you know— and so I leave you.  Exit. Val. 
The tale of Tantalus is now proved true,  
And from me shall be registered Authentic.  
Sure I walk in a mist, and with that silence  
As if I was the shroud I wrapped myself in,  
And no more of Valerio but his shadow.  Enter Camillo, Cleanthes, Menallo. Cam. 
Where have we lost the Bridegroom? sure he is gone to bed.  Men. 
No, here he is thinking no doubt on this night's happiness.  Cam. 
Cheer up my Noble Lord, the Minute's come,  
You shall enjoy the abstract of all sweetness,  
We did you wrong, you need no Wine to warm you,  
Desire shoots through your Eyes like sudden Wildfires.  Val. 
In troth my Lords, the Wine has made me dull,  
I am I know not what.  Cl. 
O there's a Lady coming will inform you.  Enter Frederick and Sorano. Fr. 
Tho there are left small hopes for his recovery,  
That hope still lives, and men's eyes live upon it.  
And in their eyes their wishes for Alphonso;  
Were he but cold once in the silent Grave,  
As 'tis the fittest place for Melancholy,  
My Court should be another Paradise,  
And flow with all delights.  Sor. 
Go to your pleasures let me alone with this  
But mark the Man you'll scarce know 'tis Valerio.  Fr. 
Good pleasure to you,  
Good night, and long too, as you find your appetite  
You may fall to.  Val. 
I do beseech your Grace  
For which of all my faithful services  
Have I deserved this?  Fr. 
I am not bound to answer you.  Val. 
Nor I bond to obey in unjust actions.  Fr. 
Do as you please, you know the Penalty;  
And as I have a Soul it shall be executed.  
Nay look not pale I am not used to fear, Sir.  
If you respect your Lady good night to you.  Ex. cum Sor. Val. 
But for respect to her, and to my duty,  
Which anger has no power to rob me of,  
The good night should be thine, good night for ever.  
How my heart trembles  
And beats my breast, as it would break its way out.  
Good night my noble friends.  Cl. 
Nay, we must see you towards your bed, my Lord.  Val. 
Indeed, it needs not, 'tis late, and I shall trouble you.  Cam. 
No, no, till the Bride come, Sir.  Val. 
I beseech you leave me.  
You will make me bashful, I am so foolish,  
Besides I have some few devotions, Lords,  
And he that can pray with such a book in his arms.  Cam. 
We'll leave you then, and a sweet night wait on you.  Men. 
And a sweet issue of this sweet night crown you.  Cl. 
All nights and days be such till you grow old, Sir.  Exeunt. Val. 
I thank ye: 'tis a curse sufficient for me,  
A laboured one too, though you mean a blessing.  
What shall I do? I'm like a wretched Debtor,  
That has a sum to tender on the forfeit  
Of all he's worth, yet dare not offer it.  
Other men see the Sun, but I must wink at it,  
And though I know 'tis perfect day deny it.  
I must enjoy her, yet when I consider  
The Tyrant's will, and his power taught to murder,  
My tender care controls my blood within me,  
And like a cold fit of a peevish Ague  
Creeps to my Soul, and flings an Ice upon me.  Enter Q. Mother, Evanthe, and Lady. Q. M. 
Evanthe, make ye unready, your Lord stays for you,  
And prithee be merry.  Eu. 
Your Grace desires what is too free in me,  
I am so taken up in all my thoughts,  
So possessed, Madam, with the lawful sweets,  
I shall this night partake of with my Lord,  
So far transported, pardon my immodesty,  
That though they must be short, and snatched away too,  
 they grow ripe, yet I shall far prefer 'em  
Before a tedious pleasure with Repentance.  Val. 
O how my heart aches!  Q. M 
I thank thee hearty  
For learning how to use thy few hours handsomely,  
They will be years I hope.  Eu. 
Good night, dear Madam.  
Ladies, no farther service, I am well:  
I do beseech your Grace to give us this leave;  
My Lord and I to one another freely,  
And privately may do all other Ceremonies,  
Woman and Page we'll be to one another,  
And trouble you no farther.  Q. M. 
Why then good night, good night, my best Evanthe,  
Thou worthy Maid, and as that name shall vanish,  
A worthy Wife, a long and happy.  Eu. 
That shall be my care.  Q. M. 
Be cheerful Lord, and take your Lady to ye,  
And that power that shall part you be unhappy.  Val. 
Sweet rest unto ye, to you all sweet Ladies.  Exeunt Q. M. etc. Eu. 
Will you to bed my Lord, come let me help you.  Val. 
To bed, Evanthe; art thou sleepy?  Eu. 
No; but I shall be worse if you look sad upon me;  
Pray let's to bed.  Val. 
I am not well, my Love.  Eu. 
I'll make you well; there's no such Physic for you,  
As your warm Mistress' arms.  Val. 
Art thou so cunning?  Eu. 
I speak not by experience, pray mistake not,  
But if you love me—  Val. 
I do love so dearly,  
So much above the base bend of desire,  
I know not how to answer thee.  Eu. 
To bed then,  
There I shall better credit you: Fie, my Lord,  
Will you put a Maid to't, to teach you what to do,  
An innocent Maid, are you so cold a Lover?  
This is no stolen Love, or a sin we covet.  Val. 
May I not love thy Mind?  Eu. 
And I yours too,  
'Tis a most noble one adorned with Virtue.  
But if we love not one another really,  
And put our Bodies and our Minds together,  
And so make up the concord of affection,  
Our love will prove but a blind superstition.  
This is no School to argue in, my Lord,  
Nor have we time to talk away allowed us,  
Come kiss me and to bed.  Val. 
That I dare do, and kiss again.  Eu. 
Spare not they are your own.  Val. 
My Veins are all on Fire, and burn like Aetna,  
Youth, and desire beat Larums to my Blood,  
And add fresh fuel to my warm affections.  
Hast thee, Evanthe, to the Genial bed,  
The happy Scene of our approaching Bliss,  
And Joys blessed Lovers never knew before;  
Yes we will love, not all the powers on Earth,  
Or Hell itself shall ever hope to part us.  
Each Minute as it swiftly glides along,  
Shall bear the pleasures of whole Ages with it,  
And witness to the rest our spotless Love.  
Great Love himself, with his officious Wings,  
Even in the midst of all our furious transports  
Shall gently raise and strengthen our desires.  Eu. 
Come let's dispatch then.  Eu. 
It will not be, for when I weigh her danger,  
The thoughts of that lock up all powers of youth.  
O what a blessedness 'twere to be old now,  
Or half on Crutches to meet holy Hymen!  
That that speaks other men most freely happy,  
And makes all eyes hang on their expectations,  
Youth, and Ability must prove my bane.  Eu. 
Fie, fie my Lord, if any one should come,  
And find us at this distance, what would they think?  Val. 
No to enjoy thee is to be luxurious  
O how I burn! to pluck thee from the Stalk,  
Where now thou growest a sweet and heavenly Flower,  
And bearest the prime, and honour of the Garden,  
Is but to violate thy Spring, and spoil thee.  Eu. 
To let me blow, and fall alone would anger ye.  Val. 
Let's sit together thus, and as we sit  
Feed on the sweets of one another's Souls,  
Where no allay of actual dull desires,  
Of humane fire, that burns out as it kindles,  
Can ever mix, let's fix on that, Evanthe,  
That's everlasting, the other casual,  
Eternity breeds one, the other Fortune,  
Blind as herself, and full of all Afflictions,  
Shall we love virtuously?  Eu. 
I ever loved so.  Val. 
And only think our love: the rarest pleasure,  
And that we most desire, let it be humane,  
If once enjoyed, grows stolen, and cloys our appetite.  
I would not lessen in my love for any thing,  
Nor find thee but the same in my short Journey,  
For my love's safety.  Eu. 
Now I see I'm old, Sir,  
Old, and ill-favoured too, poor, and despised,  
And am not worthy your noble fellowship,  
Your fellowship in Love, you would not else  
Thus cunningly seek to betray a Maid,  
Strive to abuse the pious love she brings you;  
Farewell, my Lord, since you have another Mistress—  Val. 
Stay, my Evanthe,  
Heaven bear 'em witness, thou art all I love,  
All I desire, and now have pity on me,  
As I shall want it much. Forgive me Justice,  
Youth, and affection stop your ears unto me.  Aside: Eu. 
Why do you Weep, if I have spoke too harshly,  
And unbeseeming my beloved Lord,  
My care and duty pardon me.  Val. 
O hear me,  
Hear me, Evanthe; I am all on torture,  
And this lie tears my Conscience as I vent it.  
I am no Man.  Aside. Eu. 
How Sir!  Val. 
No Man for pleasure, no Woman's Man.  Eu. 
Goodness forbidden, my Lord, fure you abuse yourself.  Val. 
'Tis true, Evanthe,  Eu. 
He weeps bitterly.  
'Tis my hard fortune, bless all young Maids from it,  
Is there on help my Lord in art will comfort ye.  Val. 
I hope there is.  Eu. 
'Tis hard to die for nothing;  
Now you shall know 'tis not the pleasure, Sir,  
That Women aim at, I affect you for,  
'Tis for your Worth, nay I still honour you,  
And with all duty to my Husband follow you.  
Will you to bed now, you are ashamed it seems;  
Pygmalion prayed, and his cold stone took life,  
You do not know with what zeal I shall ask, Sir,  
And what rare miracle that may work on you,  
Still blush? prescribe your Law.  Val. 
I prithee pardon me,  
To bed, and I'll sit by thee, and mourn with thee.  
I pray to Heaven when I am gone, Evanthe,  
As my poor date is but a Span of Time now,  
To recompense thy noble patience,  
Thy Love, and Virtue, with a fruitful Husband,  
Honest, and Honourable.  Eu. 
Come you have made me weep now.  
All fond desires die, here, and welcome Chastity:  
As for this Tyrant, we'll so torture him,  
With such a pious scorn, that we will shake him;  
And when Valerio, and Evanthe sleep  
In one rich Earth, hung round about with blessings,  
He shall grow mad with shame, repent too late,  
And sink I th' ruins of our happier fate.  Exeunt. 
The end of the third Act.   

ACT IU.  Enter Frederick. Fr. 
MEthinks the Sun this morning mounts the Sky,  
With a pale face, and Death plays in his Beams.  
Why, be it so, they dart it on Alphonso;  
But add new life to my continued pleasures.  
Sorano's always witty in his mischief,  
To Poison him, and by my Mother's hand,  
Will be a double stroke, and sweep away  
The only bars, that check my sweet delights.  
Could I but gain this Maid too I were happy.  
Come hither Time, how does your noble Mistress?  Enter Cassandra. Cass. 
As a Gentlewoman may do in her Case, that's newly married,  
Sickly, and fond on't, and please your Majesty.  Fr. 
She's breeding then, and eats good Broths and Jellies?  Cass. 
I'm sure she sighs, Sir, and weeps, good Lady.  Fr. 
Alas good Lady for it!  
She should have one could comfort her, Cassandra,  
Could turn those Tears to Joys, a lusty comforter.  Cass. 
A comfortable man does well at all hours,  
For he brings comfortable things.  Fr. 
Come hither, and hold your Fan between, you have eaten Onions;  
Her breath stinks like a Fox, her teeth are Contagious,  
These old Women are all Elder Pipes, do you mark me. He gives her a Purse.  Cass. 
But does your Grace think I am fit, that am both old and virtuous.  Fr. 
Therefore the fit, the older still the better,  
I know thou art as holy as an old Cope.  
Yet upon necessary use—  Cass. 
'Tis true,  Fr. 
Her feeling sense is fierce still; speak unto her,  
You are familiar; speak I say unto her,  Cass. 
Alas she's honest Sir, she's very honest,  
And would you have my gravity?  Fr. 
I, I, your gravity will become the Cause the better:  
I'll look thee out a Knight shall make thee a Lady too,  
A lusty Knight, and one that shall be ruled by thee.  
Come, come, no ducking out of nicety,  
But do it home, we'll all be friends too tell her,  
And such a Joy—  Cass. 
That's it that stirs me up, Sir.  
I would not for the world attempt her Chastity,  
But that they may live lovingly together.  Fr. 
For that I urge it too.  Cass. 
A little evil may well be suffered for a general good,  
I'll take my leave of your Grace.  Exit. Fr. 
Go and be fortunate, I know he wants no additions to his tortures;  
He has enough for humane blood to carry,  
So many, that I wonder his hot Youth,  
And high bred Spirit breaks not into Fury.  
Yet I must torture him a little further,  
My anger is too poor else. Here they come.  
Th' old Woman seems an earnest advocate  
They are strange things, but I must not be seen.  Exit. Enter Evanthe and Cassandra. Eu. 
You think it fit then, Mortified Cassandra  
That I should be a Whore?  Cass. 
If every woman, that upon necessity  
Did a good turn, were termed a Whore,  
Who would be honest.  
Your Lord's life, and your own, are now in hazard.  
Two precious lives may be redeemed with nothing:  
That we call lust, that Maidens lose their same for,  
But a Compelled necessity of honour,  
Fair as the day, and clear as innocence,  
Upon my life and conscience, a direct way—  Eu. 
To be a Devil.  Cass. 
'Tis a kind of rape too,  
That keeps you clear; for where the will's compelled  
Thou you yield up your body, you are safe still  Eu. 
Thou art grown a learned Bawd, I ever looked  
Thy great sufficiency would break out.  Cass. 
You may  
You that are young and fair from us old Creatures.  
But you must know my years  you be wise,  
And my experience too. Say the King loved ye  
Do you think Princes favours are such trifles,  
To fling away when you please? there are young Ladies,  
Both fair, and honourable, that would leap to reach 'em.  Eu. 
They are the wiser for it; but canst thou tell me  
Tho' he be a King whether he be sound or no?  
I would not give my youth up to infection.  Cass. 
As sound as honour aught to be I think.  Eu. 
But when I have lain with him, what am I then?  Cass. 
What are you? why the same you are now, a woman,  
A virtuous woman, and a noble woman,  
Touching at what is noble you become so.  
Had Lucreece e'er been thought of, but for Tarquin,  
She was before a Simple unknown woman,  
When she was ravished, she was a reverend St.  
And do you think she yielded not a little,  
And had a kind of will to be re-ravished:  Eu. 
But suppose the King show d so delight me,  
I should forget my Lord, and no more look on him?  Cass. 
That's the main hazard, for I tell you truly,  
I've heard report speak him an infinite pleasure.  Eu. 
Peace, thou old Bawd, thou studied old corruptness.  
Dost thou seek to make me dote on wickedness,  
Because 'tis ten times worse than thou deliverest it?  
To be a Whore, O thou Impudence!  
Have I relieved thy Age to my own ruin?  
And worn thee in my bosom to betray me?  
Can years, and Impotence win nothing on thee  
That's good and honest, but thou must go on still,  
And where thy Blood wants heat to sin thyself,  
Force thy decrepit will to make me wicked?  Cass. 
I did but tell ye—  Eu. 
What the damndest Woman,  
The cunningest, and most skilful Bawd, comes short of.  
If thou hadst lived ten ages to be damned in,  
And exercised this art the Devil taught thee,  
Thou couldst not have expressed it more exactly.  Cass. 
I did not bid you sin.  Eu. 
Thou wouldst me to it.  
Thou that art fit for Prayer, and the Grave,  
Thy Body Earth already, and Corruption,  
Thou taught'st the way; go follow your fine Function,  
There are houses of Delight, that want good Matrons,  
Such grave Instructors, get thee thither, Monster,  
And read varitey of Sins to Wantoness,  
And when they roar with pains than learn to pity 'em.  Cass. 
This we have for our good will;  Eu. 
When thou want'st bread, and common pity towards thee;  
When thou art starving in a Ditch, think on me,  
Then die and let the wand'ring Bawds lament thee.  
Begun I charge thee leave me.  Exit Cassandra. Enter Frederick. Fr. 
She's angry, and the other gone, my suits cold.  
I'll make your heart ache, stubborn Maid, for this.  
Turn not so angry from me, I will speak to you;  
Are you grown proud with your delight, good Lady,  
So pampered with your sport, you scorn to know me?  Eu. 
I scorn you not, I wish you scorned not me, Sir;  
And forced me to be weary of my duty.  
I know your Grace, would I had never seen you.  Fr. 
Because I love, because I dote upon you,  
Because I am a man, that seek to please you  Eu. 
I've one already, Sir, that can content me,  
As much, as noble, and as worthy of me  
As all the world can yield.  Fr. 
That's but your modesty.  
You have no man, nay never look upon me,  
I know it Lady, no man to content ye;  
No man that can, or at the least that dares,  
Which is a poorer man, and nearer nothing.  Eu. 
Be nobler Sir informed.  Fr. 
I'll, tell you, Madam,  
The poor condition of this poorer Fellow,  
And make you blush for shame at your own error.  
He has not rendered yet a Husband's duty  
To your warm longing Bed.  Eu. 
How should he know that?  Fr. 
I'm sure he did not, for I charged him no,  
Upon his life I charged him, but to try him.  
Could any brave or noble spirit stop here?  
Was life to be preferned before affection,  
Lawful and long d for too?  Eu. 
Did you command him?  Fr. 
I did in policy, to try his spirit.  Eu. 
And could he be so dead cold to observe it?  
Brought I no Love nor Beauty along with me?  Fr. 
I show d have loved him if he had ventured for it,  
Nay doted on his bravery.  Eu. 
Only charged, and with that spell sit down: dare men fight bravely  
For poor slight things, for drink or ostentation  
And there endanger both their lives and fortunes?  
And for their lawful loves fly off with fear?  
I would have died a thousand deaths.  Fr. 
So wou d any,  
Any that had the spirit of a Man.  
I would have been killed, in your Arms.  Eu. 
I wish I had been,  
And buried in my arms, that had been noble;  
And what a Monument would I have made him!  
Upon my breast he should have slept in peace,  
Honour, and everlasting love his Mourners;  
And I still weeping till old time had turn'd me,  
And pitying powers above, into pure Crystal.  Fr. 
Hadst thou loved me, and had my way been stuck  
With deaths, as thick as frosty nights with Stars,  
I would have ventured.  Eu. 
Good Sir afflict me not too fast, I feel  
I am a Woman, and a wronged one too,  
And I am sensible of my abuses.  Fr. 
All reason, and all Laws allow it ye.  Eu. 
You may speak now, and happily prevail too.  
And I beseech your Grace be angry with me.  Fr. 
If I should give him life he would betray thee,  
That fool that fears to die for such a Beauty,  
Would for the same fear sell thee unto misery.  
I do not say he set your Woman on you.  Eu. 
Followed thus far, nay then I smell the malice,  
It tastes too hot of practised wickedness.  
Shall my Anger make me Whore, and not my pleasure?  
My sudden inconsiderate rage abuse me?  Fr. 
Nor he would have been himself Solicitor.  Eu. 
Nor do not dare, 'twill be an imprudence,  
And not an honour for a Prince to lie.  Fr. 
How lie?  Eu. 
Shamefully, and I could wish myself a man but one day,  
To tell you openly you lie too basely.  Fr. 
Take heed wild sool.  Eu. 
Take heed thou tame Devil,  
Thou all Pandora's box in a King's figure;  
Thou hast almost whored my weak belief already,  
And like an Engineer blown up my Honour,  
But I shall countermine, and catch your mischief.  
Victorious Thomyris, ne'er won more honour,  
In cutting off the Royal Head of Cyrus,  
Than I shall do in conquering thee, farewell.  
And if thou canst be wise learn to be good too,  
'Twill give thee nobler light than both thy eyes do.  
My poor Lord and myself are bound to suffer,  
And when I see him faint under your sentence,  
I'll tell you more, it may be than I'll yield to.  Fr. 
Yielding or not I've sworn she shall be mine,  
Tho I should wade through Seas of blood to meet her.  Enter Val. Val. 
He's here and by himself, what hinders me,  
But that I now make sure a noble vengeance?  
The People do expect, the Soldiers wish it,  
All Naples hang on me their expectations.  
As if it was a debt, I owed my Country.  
But still he is my Sovereign, and that thought  
Pulls back my Sword, and turns the edge against me.  Fr. 
Now my young married Lord how do you feel yourself?  
You have the happiness you ever aimed at,  
The joy and pleasure.  
You tumble in delights, with your sweet Lady,  
And draw the Minutes out in dear embraces.  Val. 
Would you had tried it, Sir, that you might know  
The virtue but to suffer.  
Your anger tho' it be unjust, and insolent,  
Sits handsomer upon you than your scorn.  
To do a wilful ill, and glory in it,  
Is to do it double, and doubly to be damned.  Fr. 
You clearly see now, brave Valerio,  
What 'tis to be a rival to a Prince,  
To interpose agianst a raging Lyon.  Val. 
You are grown a Tyrant  
Upon so suffering, and so still a Subject,  
That if your youth were honest, it would blush at.  
But you're a shame to nature, as to virtue;  
Pull not my rage upon ye, 'tis so Just  
It will give way to no respect.  Fr. 
I know you've suffered, infinitely suffered,  
And with a kind of pity I behold ye;  
And if you dare be worthy of my mercy,  
I can yet heal you.  Val. 
I fall thus low, Sir.  
And my poor heart under your feet I lay,  
And all the service of my life.  Fr. 
I o this then  
Part with her for a while.  Val. 
You have parted us,  
What shall I do with that I cannot use, Sir?  Fr. 
'Tis well considered; let me have the Lady,  
And thou shalt see how nobly I'll befriend thee.  Val. 
Will she come do you think?  Fr. 
She must be wrought, I know she is too modest,  
And that with Art.  Val. 
But who shall work her, Sir?  
For on my conscience she is very honest,  
And will be hard to cut as a rough Diamond.  Fr. 
Why, you must work her, any thing from your Tongue,  
Set off with Golden, and persuasive language,  
Urging your dangers too.  Val. 
But all this while  
Have you the Conscience, Sir, to leave me nothing;  
Nothing to play withal?  Fr. 
There are ten thousand, take where thou wilt.  Val. 
May I be bold with your Queen,  
She's useless to your Grace, as it appears, Sir,  
And but a Loyal Wife that may be lost too,  
I have a mind to her, and then 'tis equal,  Fr. 
How, Sir?  Val. 
'Tis so, Sir; thou most glorious impudence,  
Have I not wrongs enough to suffer under,  
But thou must pick me out to make a Monster,  
A hated wonder to the World! do you start  
At my entrenching on your private liberty,  
And would you force a high way through my honour,  
And make me pave it too? but that thy Queen  
Is of that excellent honesty,  
And guarded with Divinity about her,  
I would so right myself.  Fr. 
Why take her to you,  
I am not vexed at this; thou shalt enjoy her,  
I'll be thy Friend if that will win thy courtesy.  Val. 
I will not be your Bawd tho' for your Kingdom.  
Was I brought up and nourished in the Court  
With thy most Royal Brothers and thyself,  
And sucked the sweetness of all humane Arts,  
Learned arms and honour to become a villain?  
Was this the expectation of my youth,  
My growth and glory. Do you speak this truly,  
Or do you try me, Sir; for I believe not,  
At least I would not, and methinks 'tis impossible  
There should be such a Devil in a King's shape.  
Such a malignant Fiend!  Fr. 
You'll find me worse if you persist thus rashly,  
The next time you hear from me it must be  
In rougher terms, and so I take my leave.  Exit. Val. 
Am I a Man and feel loves fire within me,  
Youth and desire engaging me to taste,  
Those sweet delights the law has given me?  
Have I within my reach that precious treasure,  
To purchase which I have sacrificed my life,  
Withal my youthful hopes, and shall I not  
Because a Tyrant's power interposes  
Dare once to touch that dear bought happiness.  Enter Evanthe. 
Come my Evanthe, fly into my Arms,  
Let thy warm sighs dissolve that lump of sorrow,  
That heavy load that hangs upon my soul.  Eu. 
Not all my sighs, nor the sincerest love,  
That e'er was paid by an unhappy Maid,  
Can purge thy soul of its ingratitude.  Val. 
Ha!  Eu. 
Canst thou look up to the people's love,  
That call thee worthy and not blush, Valerio?  
Canst thou behold me, whom thou hast betrayed,  
Yet know no shame?  Val. 
What means my best Evanthe?  Eu. 
To save thy life, and for so short a time;  
It does betray so base a Cowardice,  
That makes even me a Woman blush to think on't.  
Had twenty thousand deaths attended me  
I would have met 'em all, and died upon the pleasure.  Val. 
I'm all amazement!  Eu. 
To let a lie work like a spell upon ye,  
A lie to save your life; the King himself,  
Tho he be wicked, and our Enemy,  
But juster than thou art, in pity of me  
Told me this truth?  Val. 
What did he tell you?  Eu. 
That but to gain thy life for a few days,  
Thy loved poor life, thou gavest up all my duties.  Val. 
I swear 'tis false, my life and death are equal.  
But Kings are men, and live and die as men do,  
Have the affections men have, and their falsehoods.  
Indeed they have more power to make 'em good.  
It was to save thy life, thy innocent life,  
That I forbore thy bed.  Eu. 
And was not I as worthy to die nobly,  
To make a story for the times that follow,  
As he that married me? do you think I chose you  
Only for pleasure, or content in Love,  
To lull you in my arms and kiss you hourly?  Val. 
I do not think so.  Eu. 
I might have been a Queen, Sir,  
If that had caught me, and have known all delicates.  
There's few that would have shunned so fair an offer.  
O thou unfaithful fearful man, thou hast killed me;  
In saving me this way thou hast destroyed me.  Val. 
I honour you; by all the rites of marriage  
And pleasures of chaste love, I wonder at you.  
You appear the vision of a heaven unto me,  
Stuck all with stars of honour shining clearly;  
Why don't you chide me, you have so brave an anger,  
And thus delivered flows so nobly from you,  
That I could suffer like a child to hear you.  Eu. 
My Anger's gone, good my Lord pardon me,  
And if I have offended be more angry.  
It was a woman's flash, a sudden valour  
That could not lie conceal'd.  
You have with a cunning patience cheked my folly.  
Once more forgiveness.  (She knelt) Val. 
Will this serve Evanthe  (He raises and kisses her.) 
And this my Love, thou art all happiness,  
Man is a lump of earth, the best Man spiritless,  
To such a Woman, all our lives and actions,  
But counterfeits in Arras to such virtue.  
But did he tell no more?  Eu. 
More than I then believ'd or ever shall.  Val. 
Now we are both of one mind, let's be happy.  
I am no more a wanting man Evanthe,  
Thy warm embraces shall dissolve that impotence,  
And my cold lie shall vanish with thy kisses.  
Ye hours of night be long, as when Alcmene  
Lay by the lusty side of Jupiter,  
Keep back the day and hid his golden beams,  
Where the chaste watchful morning may not find 'em.  
Old doting Tithon, hold Aurora fast,  
And though she blush, the day break from her cheeks,  
Conceal her still; thou heavy wain stand still,  
And stop the quicker revolutions;  
Or if the day must come to spoil our happiness  
Thou envious Sun peep not upon our pleasures,  
Thou that all Lovers Curse be far off from us.  Enter Pisano with Guards. Eu. 
Then let's to bed, and this night in all Joys  
And chaste desires—  Pis. 
Stay I must part you both, it is the King's Command.  Val. 
Ha! this from thee, Pisano;  
Thou once wast honest, what can honour then,  
And friendship too conspire against Valerio?  Pis. 
My honoured Lord, you'll find me still your Friend,  
Bear off the Lady, and use her with all nobleness.  Exeunt with Evanthe. Enter Alphonso. Alp. 
Call up the Sun, and tell him I wait for him.  
He promised more I fear than he'll perform,  
To find three men, that are not errand Traitors.  Val. 
Is there a mystery beyond what I've suffered?  
Yet witness Heaven, this adds to my afflictions,  
How do you my good Lord?  Alp. 
Why very well.  
Who are you? For I'm sure I do not know you.  Val. 
Not know me,  Alp. 
How is't possible I should?  
I well remember I had a foster Brother,  
A noble youth, my Father called Valerio;  
But what of that? I know you are not he.  
Valerio was made up of nobleness,  
Master of all those humane excellencies,  
That make Men equal to th'all perfect Gods;  
His forward virtues shot him up to Man,  
 others could attain to a youth's strength.  
He was so perfect as if heaven had sent him,  
To witness to the world the worth of humane nature.  Val. 
My Lord Alphonso, am I sure I hear you!  Alp. 
He wore a soul so full of manly greatness,  
As would have brook t a sceptered Devil sooner.  
Than usurpation, or a lawless Tyrant,  
And e'er he would have spent those precious hours,  
That pitying fate had liberally consigned,  
For the redemption of his wretched Country,  
In the endearments of a fruitless passion,  
He would have sold himself to slavery.  Val. 
Go on, my Lord, for though in your reproofs  
YE appear as dreadful as an angry God,  
YE have turned the stream of my oh erflowing griefs,  
And silenced all the Tumults of my Soul.  
Go on, for whilst you speak, my busy sorrows,  
Tho they exceed the tortures of the damned,  
As if another Orpheus came to charm 'em,  
Are calm, and gently sink down into peace.  
Here on my knees silent as death I'm fixed,  
And listen to the charge of awful virtue.  Alp. 
He was so true a lover of his Country,  
That for her sake he would have given up  
His life, and with it his Soul's happiness,  
But not have sold it like a trading Slave,  
For the enjoyments of a short-lifed pleasure.  
He dared meet death with an undaunted courage,  
On any score, but from the Hangman's hand:  Val. 
O all ye Gods, can I believe my senses?  
Or do I dream? 'tis real; for my joys  
Exceed the transports of deluded fancy,  
But say, my Lord, O tell me I adjure ye,  
What kinder power, in pity of our sufferings,  
When you was lost and dead to all our hopes,  
Has thus restored ye to your bleeding Naples?  Alp. 
Vain man, 'tis thou art dead and not Alphonso;  
That vigorous heat that fired thy active Youth,  
And drew the hopes of all good men unto thee,  
Lies quite extinct, and now thou art no more,  
Than the faint shadow of Valerio's greatness.  
Ye Gods, that man, the Lord of your Creation,  
The perfect image of your heavenly forms,  
Should own the weakness of the vilest Beast,  
And virtue, given us as a faithful guide  
To lead us safe through a tempestuous Sea,  
Should yield to every wave that dares oppose it!  Val. 
My Lord, I own all you can charge me with,  
And in an humble sense of my own vileness,  
I crawl thus low, to kiss your sacred feet.  
Valerio owns you have searched him to the quick,  
And laid his soul so open to herself,  
That now ashamed of her own nakedness,  
Dares not erect her head to view, and worship,  
The Godlike beams of your severer virtue.  Alp. 
Let me then raise her up to her own greatness,  
And heal her with the charms of holy Friendship,  
Here let me fix her, honours sacred twin,  
And breathe the sweets of manly love upon her.  
O my Valerio, we have been both to blame,  
The hours of youth, that should have been employed,  
In the pursuit of never dying glory,  
And spent i'th' service of our wretched Country,  
We have like headless Prodigals permitted  
To glide as gentle waters unobserved.  Val. 
What shall I say, O teach me how to answer.  
Thoughts crowd on thoughts, and press upon my Tongue,  
Which cannot speak the language of my Heart.  
Only thus much, I fling off all my duty  
To your dead Brother, for he is dead to goodness,  
And to the living hopes of brave Alphonso,  
The noble heir of Nature and of Honour,  
I fasten my Allegiance.  Alp. 
Once more Valerio,  
Since thou art so nobly fashioned to my Arms  
thou'rt welcome, thus and thus I press thee to me,  
Wish we might grow so fixed, so linked together,  
As frederick's power might strive in vain to part us.  Val. 
Is there on Earth that power that can divide us?  
That life my love so fond gave away,  
Honour recalls: for you I will preserve it,  
That could not for myself. I'm yours, my Lord,  
Valerio's yours, and to secure me so,  
Witness ye Gods Valerio quits the world,  
All but his love, and if my Lord commands it,  
I'll quit that too; Evanthe shall be quitted,  
And thrown off from me, that I may with ease,  
Enter the list, and run the race of glory.  Alp. 
O thou wast born to recall banished virtue;  
And fix her on her Throne; no, my Valerio,  
Mayst thou be ever blessed in thy Evanthe.  
Live both the happy Stars of love and honour,  
Two lights to guide us in this darker Age.  
But listen now to what I shall unfold,  
This afternoon, the Tyrant has determined  
To try if fear will work upon Evanthe,  
And win her to compliance, if to save,  
Thy much loved life she will give up her honour;  
If that will not prevail, 'tis then resolved▪  
By force to drag her to his impious lust.  
Now canst thou tamely see a Virgin wronged,  
And not be touched with the indignity,  
Perceive thy Wife forc'd to a Tyrant's bed,  
And feel no love within to do her Justice?  Val. 
Why asks my Lord, by heaven I'd rather see her  
Dragged to a bloody Altar, and there fall  
A Sacrifice to Devils.  Alp. 
I do believe thee,  
And that thou wouldst be foremost to prevent it.  Val. 
I'd do't alone.  Alp. 
I grant it if no Friends  
Can be found out to join i'th' undertaking.  Val. 
There can be none;  Alp. 
There are already hundreds  
All armed, even now the fatal Sword is drawn,  
That must ere night dispatch the bloody Tyrant.  
Suspend thy wonder, and be like thyself.  
O I could tell thee such a dismal story  
As would add fuel, to thy enraged spirits,  
Tho' they boiled higher than Alcides did,  
When on his back he wore th' envenomed Shirt.  Val. 
O you have given new life to all my wishes!  
Is there, and shall we once again behold  
A lawful Monarch seated on our Throne.  
Methinks I see the Genius of our State  
Resume with joy her once abandoned Seat,  
Virtue returns, and injured Truth once more  
Does happy Naples to herself restore,  
Whilst the assembled Gods resolve to bless  
Alphonso's Reign with a perpetual Peace.  Exeunt.  

ACT. V Scene 1st.  Enter Frederick and Sorano. A Chair set on. Fr. 
BUT are you sure the poison's Mortal?  Sor. 
Above the help of Physic;  
Some two hours hence we shall have such a bawling,  
And roaring up and down for Aqua Vitae,  
I've sent him that will make a bonfire in his belly,  
If he recover it, there is no heat in Hell.  Fr. 
But was my Mother easy of belief?  Sor. 
At first indeed she did mistrust my kindness,  
And gravely told me old experienced minds  
Were not so quickly caught with guilt hypocrisy,  
Then Sir I wept, and bid her as she was honourable,  
Not add more Hell to my afflicted soul;  
Told her I had cast off those glorious favours  
Of sound and honour, wealth and promises,  
Your wanton pleasures had fling on my weakness;  
Resolved to serve my Country's cause and virtues,  
Poorly and honestly, and redeem my ruins.  Fr. 
I guess the rest.  Sor. 
Then I produced the Viol,  
Which at the price of half my wealth I bought,  
So I possessed her, from an ancient Jew,  
A learned Scholar, and a rare Physician:  
And, she not dreaming of an Antidote,  
I freely drank an health unto Alphonso,  
Nay advised her to pledge it; if she does, Sir,  
She'll find enough for both.  Fr. 
May both die then;  
Now, my Sorano, we shall live indeed;  
Methinks already I am mounted higher,  
And with contempt look on the inferior world.  Sor. 
You must be speedy, Sir, with this Valerio,  
Till he is cold i'th' Grave you are not safe;  
There are some Lords, that buzz about the Court,  
And pry into our actions, they are such  
The foolish people call their Country's honours,  
As if they were the Patterns of the Kingdom:  
He is their Head, and him they Idolise,  Fr. 
He dies this Afternoon, unless she yields:  
And as for his adherents, to their shames,  
Within this week I'll silence 'em, Sorano,  
I'll suffer no proud slaves to be about me,  
That are not followers of my will, bridles, and curbs,  
To the hard headed Commons that malign us.  Sor. 
Now you speak like a King; as for Evanthe,  
If she's perverse, remove her Paramour,  
And then her love to him, which made her deaf  
To all you could propose, must perish with him.  Fr. 
Thou shalt command in all; but, O Evanthe,  
I hasten on the wings of love to meet thee,  
And die within thy Arms; were she but kind  
As she is beautiful— but that would be  
Too great a happiness. Her cruel pride  
May for some time, like the resistless tide,  
My hopes on Rocks, and desperate Quicksands throw;  
The Heavens may rage's above, and the Seas swell below,  
But the bold pilate's Love,  
Securily touches the forbidden strand,  
And gently throws me on the promised Land.  Exit. Sor. 
To thee 'twill prove a wandering Fairy land,  
Enjoy Evanthe? no, it was enough  
That I indulged him with a Crown and Sceptre,  
But can't yield up my love so tamely to him,  
He comes, and love plays in his Fiery eyes,  
But darts his beams on an ungrateful soil;  
Surely fate's busy, and the kinder Stars  
Are in conjunction to make good my hopes.  Exit. Enter Fr. and Evanthe. Fr. 
Can neither Power, Promise, Threats nor Tears,  
Draw from your eyes one kind consenting look,  
To feed a Monarches almost dying hopes?  
Why would you kill me with this cruelty,  
This stubborn pride? look on me, fair Evanthe,  
Not as a King, that might command thy will,  
But as a Slave that must be governed by it.  Eu. 
You are a King, I wish I might say worthy  
That love all honest men are bound to pay you.  Fr. 
O make me yours, and mould me as you please.  
I own Evanthe, I'm made up of mischiefs,  
Have drawn the curses of all good men on me.  
But do not thou learn cruelty from me.  
To heaven we kneel for mercy, and obtain it.  
To man we fly for Justice, and he gives it.  
The senseless Beasts seem with relenting pity,  
To join with us in our severest sorrows.  
Be like the Heavens, all softness, tenderness,  
The pride of nature, and the joy of life.  Eu. 
My Lord your power may force me to hear this▪  
But ever to comply with your desires,  
Or to be brought to love you wantonly,  
Not all the honours you can throw upon me.  
Shall e'er oblige me. I've a noble Husband,  
And when I do forget him, or in thought  
Wander from my obedience, then may I be  
Sold up, and lost to all those lawless pleasures,  
That leave behind 'em nothing but dishonour,  
The unhappy Subjects of a late repentance.  Fr. 
You have a Husband, but he dies this moment,  
Unless you yield, and so redeem his life.  
I am resolved, come do not, do not wind  
My anger to that height; it may consume ye;  
Yet I have mercy.  Eu. 
Use it to your Bawds,  
To me use cruelty, it best becomes you.  
Thou art a King of Monsters, not of men,  
And shortly will't convert this land to Devils.  
O were I but so powerful to consume thee!  
My tongue with curses I have armed against thee,  
With Maiden curses, that heaven Crowns with horrors.  
And could my hands but hold the fire of heaven,  
Wrapped in the thunder that the God's revenge with,  
Then like stern Justice I would fling it on thee.  Fr. 
Tho' she's unexorable, still I love,  
And loving must enjoy. Thou stubborn Maid  
I'll beg no more for what I can command.  
I know I am a King and thou my slave,  
And as a King I'll bodily seize my right,  
I'll not delay my bliss one Moment longer  
Tho my dead Father's Ghost should rise before me,  
To shake my soul and fright me from my purpose.  Eu. 
Help, help, O help! is Providence asleep  
Or are the Gods deaf to a Virgin's Prayers?  Val. 
The Gods are Just, but proud oppression hears not,  Enter Valerio. 
Tho' dreadful Thunder shakes the frame of nature.  Fr. 
How now, what boldness brought you hither, Sir?  Val. 
Love and the duty of a faithful Husband,  
The duty of a Subject to his sovereign.  
Here on my knees I do entreat you, Sir,  
To render back what you withhold unjustly;  
Your Father was a kind, and generous Prince,  
Your Brother th' Image of his Royal virtues,  
Till subtle Poison robbed him of his reason.  
Even you when first you seized th' Imperial Crown  
Promised the blessings of a gentle rule,  
Till drunk with Pride, and arbitrary Power,  
Like a wild Boar too strong to be withheld,  
You broke the bounds of Nature, Law, Religion,  
Reduced our Fruitful once, and flourishing State  
Into a miserable, wild and desert waist.  Fr. 
How, Sir? who am I?  Val. 
I know not who you are,  
You should be Frederick, brave Brandino's Son,  
Whose reverend relics, though laid up in Peace,  
Mourn in the Grave to think he should beget,  
And leave behind him such an Hellish Monster.  
You should be—  Fr. 
What I am, a sovereign Prince,  
And Master of thy Fate, Guards, seize the Traitor,  
And see him dead.  Val. 
Hold you mistake your duty.  
There stands the Traitor, Murderer, Parricide!  
'tis not in words t' express a guilt like thine,  
Nor in all Hell, torments enough to punish it.  
Nay frown not; tho' thy Eyes are Poisonous,  
As are thy hands, and Monstrous as thy thoughts,  
Thou canst not kill me as thou didst thy Father,  
Thy innocent Brother, and thy noble Uncle.  
If what I've uttered is a falsehood, Frederick,  
Draw, if thou darest, thyself the Sword of Justice,  
And thrust it home, to prove Valerio false.  Fr. 
Here then, I ll once be Executioner  
To my own Vengeance and to satisfy  
Thy fatal Pride brag when thou comest below  
Amongst thy fellow shades, that Frederick killed thee  
Thou arogant slave—  Enter Alphonso Cum Suis and Sorano. Al. 
Hold or you both shall die.  
Unkind Valerio wouldst thou rob my Sword.  
Of the only Justice my hopes ever aimed at.  
My Father's Ghost would still walk unrevenged,  
If he should fall by any hand but mine.  
Put up for shame, hark to the Bell that Rings,  
Hark, hark, Proud Frederick, that was King of mischief,  
The Sun of all thy pomp is set and vanished.  Ped. 
What do you shake, my Lord Sorano,  
No speedy mischief to prevent this business,  
No Bawdy meditation now to fly to.  Eu. 
O my best Lord let me with tears of Joy,  
In these dear Arms sigh out my thanks to Heaven.  Fr. 
so tamely caught! lock fast the Palace Gates.  Ped. 
Yes, Sir, we hear you, we have got the Keys,  
And no doors here shall shut without our licence.  Fr. 
Treason, Treason!  Ped. 
You can bawl well,  
But we have found the Traitor in your shape, Sir,  
And mean to keep him fast, Alphonso, King Alphonso!  All. 
Long live Alphonso, King of us and Naples.  Alp. 
Turn, if thou darest look nature in the face,  
Turn, Frederick, and boldly meet my Sword,  
For till the Royal throne by thee polluted  
And daubed with innocent blood, is purged by thine,  
Alphonso cannot, dares not, be a King;  
And tho' thou well deserv'st the Hangman's hand,  
I'll be myself the Minister of Justice,  
Because I han't forgot thou once wast noble;  
If thou bewaylest thou still mayst be a King,  
Think Heaven looks down as witness of our Combat,  
And will refix the Crown o'th' Victor's Head:  Fr. 
Now thou art brave and in thy nobleness  
My Guilty Soul beholds her own disgrace.  
I do confess my unbounded sins, but find  
My heart too stubborn for a true repentance;  
What I by treachery purchased hitherto  
I have maintained by force; and know, Alphonso,  
Frederick with greater pleasure draws his Sword  
In this dispute, than if he was to struggle  
For a third Portion of the Universe.  
Heaven be thy Umpire, I to Hell appeal,  
If there be either, for as yet I know not;  
Let but my Sword be constant to my purpose,  
I'll call no other God to my assistance.  Alp. 
Thou Hellish fury sent by angry Heaven  
To scourge this bleeding Nation for her sins.  
Think on the mischiefs thou hast thrown upon her,  
The sighs and tears of injured innocence,  
And curses th' hast entailed upon Posterity,  
That after death will follow, and torment  
Thy guilty ashes in their restless Urn.  Fr. 
Peace or I shall mistrust thy bravery.  
Thinkest thou to fright me with such tales as these?  
If thy Sword proves as Idle as thy Tongue,  
I shall begin to doubt if one Womb bore us both.  
Come on, methinks I am now proud to see thee  
A match fit for my Sword, and not that stupid  
Senseless Alphonso I have often thought thee.  Al. 
Come then since thou'rt so brave.  Val. 
My Lord Alphonso—  Al. 
Hold on the forfeit of your lives I charge you,  
That Sword that is not sheathed is drawn on me.  
So nobly is my cause born out with Justice,  
That I require no aids but those of Heaven.  Fr. 
O that th' whole World were summoned to behold  
Two rival-Brothers tugging for an Empire,  
And with an Universal shout applaud the Victor.  
Come on, we trifle, whilst the eager Crowd;  
Divided in their wishes, grow impatient  
Till Victory has taught 'em whom t' obey.  Alp. 
Thus than I meet thee tho' my Mother bore thee.  Wounds Fred. 
There lie, and mayst thou be forgot for ever.  Fr. 
I feel the hand of fate upon me, whilst my Eyes  
Labour in death, and view, brimful of horror,  
A dismal prospect of Eternal woe.  
I now repent me of my cruelties,  
And feel within my Soul the smarts already.  
Alphonso, I bequeath thee all those honours  
I have usurped; but know thou canst not long  
Enjoy them, for thou hast already drunk  
Thy passport to the other world. But O  
In death I do entreat thee to forgive me.  
Hid not the noble nature of a Brother.  
The pity of a friend from my afflictions.  
I've lived a wicked life, but now— am nothing.  Dies. Alp. 
Tho' he was wicked, still he was my Brother,  
And should have lived, till Humble penitence  
Had cast the load off of his wantonness.  
I think he said I should not long survive him.  
Sure fate spoke in him, for I feel already  
Convulsive heats shooting through every vein,  
Struggling for freedom in their narrow prison.  Enter Queen Mother. Q. Mother, 
Where is my Son, O bear me to Alphonso,  
My Son Alphonso! the great pains I felt  
When first thou saw'st the light, were softest pleasures  
Compared to those that rack my body now,  
Which thou must feel  thou liest down in Peace.  
Millions of horrors, labours, all diseases,  
Despairs and Plagues the hot Sun ever breeds  
Are trifles to the torments I endure:  
The shadows of the pains thy Mother feels.  
O damned deceitful Hellish Poisonous Villain!  Alp. 
What saith my Mother: O my mind misgives me!  Q. Mother, 
thou'rt Poisoned Son, by thy own Mother Poisoned  
Who has herself drunk of the deadly draught,  
To lead thee to the Mansions of the blessed.  
Give me more Air, let inundations flow  
Colder than Snow upon the Scythian Mountains.  
O I'm all fire, Sorano is the Villain,  
Let infinite tortures, such as those I feel,  
Light on his Head, and then I shall die pleased.  Dies. Alp. 
Now, my Valerio, where are all my hopes,  
Ye Gods— but still you must be merciful  
Tho' man can't search the ways of Providence,  
But at a distance views you in your works.  
O Mournful Triumph, fatal Victory!  
The earth is now Alphonso's only Throne  
And that in death I'll keep: I feel him coming,  
Or am I dead already? no death's cold:  
But I'm all fire, fire, the raging Dog-star  
Reigns in my blood. O which way shall I turn me!  Val. 
Hast thee, Pisano, fly for the Physicians;  
Tell 'em rewards exceeding all their wishes  
Shall Crown their cares if they'll restore back to us  
This one loved life. Look up, my honoured Lord,  
See willing nations courting ye to live.  Alp. 
Give me more Air, Air, more Air, blow, blow;  
Open thou Eastern gate and blow upon me,  
Distil thy cold dews, O thou Icy Moon,  
And rivers run through my afflicted spirit.  
Aetna and all his flames burn in my Head;  
Fling me into the Ocean or I perish.  
Dig, dig, dig till the springs fly up,  
The cold, cold springs that I may leap into 'em,  
And bathe my scorched limbs in their purling pleasures.  
O shoot me up into the higher region  
Where Treasures of delicious snow are nourished  
And banquets of sweet hail.  Val. 
Haste there, shut all the Palace gates and seize that Villain;  
Tortures exceeding those o'th' damned in Hell  
Shall be thy lot.  Sor. 
I dare your utmost malice  
There I'm revenged, and in that thought rejoice.  Val. 
Go bear him to the rack. Was ever day like this?  Alp. 
What will you sacrifice me?  
Upon the Altar lay my willing body  
And pile your wood up, fling your holy incense,  
And as I turn me, you shall see all flame,  
Consuming flame, stand off me or you're ashes.  Val. 
help me to raise him, Sirs.  Alp. 
Bring hither Charity and let me hug her,  
They say she's cold,  
Infinite cold devotion cannot warm her.  
Draw me a River of false Lovers tears  
Clean through my breast they are dull, cold and forgetful;  
And will give ease!  
Let Virgins sigh upon me,  
Forsaken souls, their sighs are precious  
Let 'em all sigh, O Hell, Hell, Hell, O horror.  Val. 
What scalding sweats he has  Alp. 
I am enclosed in all consuming flames.  
Like Phaton let me fly, let me fly, give me room  
Betwixt the cold bear and the raging Lion,  
Lies my safe way. O for a Cake of Ice now,  
To clap upon my heart to comfort me.  
Decrepit Winter hang upon my shoulders,  
And let wear thy frozen Icicles  
Like Jewels round about my head to cool me,  
My eyes burn out and sink into their sockets,  
And my infected brain like brimstone boils,  
I live in Hell and several furies Vex me,  
O carry me where no Sun ever showed yet  
A face of comfort, where the Earth is Crystal,  
Never to be dissolved, where naught inhabits  
But night and cold, and nipping Frost and Winds.  
That cut the stubborn rocks and make 'em shiver.  
Set me there Friends I feel it, and am happy.  Dies. Val. 
There broke the noble heart I should follow him  
In death did not the charms of love recall me;  
Bear in th' unhappy relics and prepare  
Noble interments worthy their great lives.  
For me I have some right to the succession  
Which in a general Assembly I'll make known.  
Death finds the Monarch seated on his Throne  
With as much ease as th' humble Cottager:  
But Proud unthinking men are taught too late,  
No power can save 'em from the hand of fate.  Exeunt Omnes.  
FINIS.