LOVE AND REVENGE: A Tragedy. Acted at the DUKE'S THEATRE. Written by Elkanah Settle, Servant to his MAJESTY.  
LONDON, Printed for William Cademan, and are to be sold at the Sign of the Popes-head in the New-Exchange in the Strand, 1675.   

TO THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS and most RENOWNED PRINCE WILLIAM, DUKE OF NEWCASTLE, ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S most Honourable Privy Council, and Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter, etc.  
May it please your Grace,  
THat so worthless a Present to so Eminent a Person, is a piece of Arrogance, I am as Conscious as I am that your Grace has Goodness to Pardon it; for if sins of Presumption could not be forgiven, the punishment of Offences would put a restraint on Virtue, and make Mercy one of the noblest Ornaments of Greatness a Stranger to it; and at that rate a Patron would be as confined as a judge, who at the same time he is a King's Representative, and presides over justice, is a Slave to it; whilst his Sentence is but the voice of Law, & his Favour or Cruelty, not voluntary, but prescribed. Your Patronage is not so bounded, your Favours are unlimited, and your Grace can execute a more peculiar Kingly power; You can give Pardons, and by your Smiles create Merit where you do not find it. But above that Title of a favourer of Poetry, which single Attribute were enough to make the Muses your Votaries; the World is sensible of your Conspicuous Eminence in more adorable Qualities. In a Duke of Newcastle Wit has found a Pillar, Valour a Pattern, Loyalty a Standart, and England a Patriot: In which rank of Heroes so placed and so adorned, your Grace has the advantage over both the ancient Worthies, and those of the present Age. For when Homer or Virgil Charactered Greatness, with them the Walls of Cities were built by the Hands of Gods, their Heroes descended from Deities, and their Divinities personally Interested in National Quarrels; whilst the almost fabulous Gallantry they painted, was set off by False Lights, and so their Precedents of Glory were but things of Noise, and works of Art. But your Grace lives in an Age where History and Poetry are the Representations of Nature; and he that describes your Worth, draws your true Self; and Story must render you Illustrious by Glories that are your Own: And when Fame (which will preserve your Memory longer than Marble can your Ashes) shall speak of a Newcastle; its Authority will be undisputable, as its Subject is unimitable. Nor can this Age (should it join the Noblest Blood, and the most forward Courage in one Person,) raise your Equal. For Loyalty now under a Flourishing King, is but like Ripe Fruits in Summer: The kindness of the Season, & the Blessing of the warm Sun take off their Rarity, and lessen their Price. But you, my Lord, are the truest and noblest Miracle of Honour, whose Arms, whose Policy, and whose Fortunes were Vigorously engaged, and as Gloriously signalised under a great, but drooping Cause; whose Fidelity was ripened by the Influence of a declining Sun. Thus the faithful Newcastle laid a foundation for Immortality; and to complete so fair a Structure, Fate conspired with his just and sacred Ambition. For when Rebellion durst strike at Majesty, and the Quarrel of a threatened King had made Newcastle an Assertour of his Country's Freedom, Victory waited on his Arms, and added Gems to his Coronet, when it deserted a Crown; wherever he led in Person, Conquest attended him, and his Royal Cause had never sunk, had Newcastle admitted of Rivals; had all its Champions been as great Favourites of Fortune as Herald But Providence, as it had more particularly obliged your Grace with extraordinary Parts and Ornaments of Nature, so it adjusted the Laurels which it gave you, to the Merit of the Brow that wore them. Nor did your Honour's spring only from the Trophies of the Field, the Harvest of War: Your Glory began its Ascension, before it had those steps Conquest and Triumph to mount upon. His late Majesty of ever blessed Memory out of the Deserving Nobility of England, singled out your Grace for the Care of a Nations Hopes, the Tuition of a Prince of Wales: So visible were your Sacred principles of Honour, that they were thought fit to be precepts for an Heir to a Crown, and by that powerful inspirer Education, to be imprinted in the Bosom of a growing Majesty. In which high Trust, your Grace reached that height which Seneca could not arrive to. He, though in his Learning and Integrity he resembled You, met not your Success in the stubborn Nero. Providence has justly lengthened out your happy Life, to see the prosperous Reign of a Great, a Pious, and Gracious Monarch in your Royal Charge. Thus whilst your Matchless Gallantry has rendered your Character so great in the Records of Fame, and your Worth an Object for a Kingdom's Veneration; in the vast numbers of those whom the Admiration of your Virtues has made your Creatures, I, in presenting you an ill Play, have made the meanest Offering to your Grace; yet I humbly beg you would not condemn an Effect that has a Cause so powerful. Every one cannot be deserving in Crowds; & not to have your Admirers numerous, is as impossible, as 'tis for your Grace to bid your Fame spread thus far, and no farther; whilst That knows no bounds, They must be Infinite; which is the only justification of  
Your Grace's Most Devoted, most Humble, and most Obedient Servant, Elkanah Settle.   

PROLOGUE.  
PLays without Scene, Machin, or Dance, to him,  
Must make up the defect of show, with Wit.  
As sometimes course Girl takes in homely Gown  
Whose Beauty, though 'tis little, is her own,  
Before a gaudy Flutterer of the Town.  
So 'tis with Plays; and though a Gaudy sight,  
Sung, Dance, and show, more briskly, move delight;  
And there th' advantage get o'er plain dressed sense;  
Yet Wit and Object have this difference.  
As poor raw Girls express in their Love's Arms,  
With untaught Kindness, their unpractised Charms,  
Whilst a Town-Mistriss, with a much more gay  
And lively air, does th' amorous Wanton play,  
Yet they in this perfection get the start:  
Their Excellence is Nature, hers but Art.  
Yet still 'tis Object▪ has a power most strong:  
Nature 'tis true delights you, but not long.  
'Tis fine Plays draw an everlasting throng.  
So with plain Girls one Night or two you'll sleep:  
But a gay Mistress for whole years you'll keep.  
Yet though you kindness lies another way;  
Our modest Author humbly begs he may  
Crowd in this Entertainment: for one Night  
Divert, though not content your Appetite.   

EPILOGUE.  
Spoken by Nigrello in a Man's Habit, but in a white Wig, and her Face discovered.  
LAdies, this Play our Author stole from you,  
Here he your Anger, there your Influence drew;  
And whilst such Love, and such Revenge he made,  
He both your Honour and your Charms surveyed.  
From you then let this Play Protection take,  
Whilst Beauties judge the Characters they make.  
But such a Lover as your ve seen to day,  
I fear you rarely meet but in a Play.  
Marriage 'tis true, goes on in the old Road,  
But dying▪ Lovers are quite out of Mode;  
Search but the Calendar, and I'm mistaken,  
If you find Saints or Martyrs of Loves making.  
No, Courtiers now take a quite different way,  
As, Madam you're so pretty, and so gay,  
God take me, I could throw a heart away  
On such a Charming Rogue. Come, is't a Match?  
Hang studying; there's nothing like dispatch.  
I ● am for Marrying, whilst our Bloods are hot,  
You shall have Coach▪ and jointure, and what not.  
So if she likes her Man, the Fort is won:  
If not, they kiss, and part, and no harm's done.  
As for despairing Lovers t'Hang, Stab, Drown,  
Or run Mad when their cruel Lady's frown;  
There's no such thing in Nature. So much Rage,  
Is none of the Diseases of this Age.  
But though your Charms such worthless Captives take,  
And through the Age's lightness rarely make  
'Mongst all your numerous Slaves, one Sacrifice,  
Who at the feet of a harsh Mistress dies;  
The fault's not in your Beauty, but their Eyes.   


Actor's Names.  
CLot air, Heir of France, & afterwards King. Mr. Smith.  
Lewis his Brother. Mr. Crosby.  
Brisack, Aphelias Brother. Mr. Norris.  
Clarmount, the Queen's Favourite, and Marshal of France. Mr. Medbourn.  
Dumain, Lamot, Chlotildas' Brothers. Mr. john Lee Mr. Gillow.  
Bourbon, Mr. Purseval.  
Nigrello, a Moor, and Favourite to the Queen & Chlotair, being Chlotilda in disguise, Mrs. Marry Lee.  
Fredigond, the Queen, Mrs. Osborn.  
Aphelia a Court-Lady. Mrs. Batterton.  
Petitioners, Villains, Lords, Guards, Attendants, and Ladies.    
Love & Revenge.  

ACT the First.  
Scene the First.  Enter Dumane and Lamot, Attired as two poor Soldiers. Dum 
WE are not safe, Lamot; this Bawdy Peace  
Begets a War within me; our Swords worn  
For Ornament, not Use. The Drum and Trumpet  
Sing Drunken carols, and the Cannon speaks  
Health, not Confusion. Helmets turned to Cups,  
And our bruised Arms administer discourse  
For Tables and for Taverns, where the Soldier  
Oft finds a Pity, not Relief. I'll tell thee,  
We're walking Images, the signs of Men,  
And bear about us nothing but the form  
Of Man that's manly.  Lam. 
We are cold indeed.  Dum 
Yes, and th'ungrateful time  
As coldly does reward us: All our actions,  
Attempts of Valour, looked into with eyes  
Full of contempt; when, ye great Gods, they know  
It is our Gifts they see yet. Oh I'm mad,  
The very breath that lends 'em life to scorn us,  
Our Blood has paid for.  Lam. 
Patience good Dumane.  Dum 
Lamot, thou know'st I can be patient:  
With what an equal temper did I breath  
Under the frozen Climates of the North.  
Where in my Arms, the sheets of War, I slept.  
My Bed being Feathered with the Down of Heaven,  
I have lain down a Man, and rose a Snowball.  
Yet these have been my pastimes, which I'ave bor'n  
As Willingly, as I received 'em Nobly.  
The Queen's black Malice, which does still remain  
Unmovable as the decrees of Fate  
Armed for our Ruin, does not swell my Gall:  
No, not this willing Beggary I wear,  
To cloud me from her Malice. By the Gods,  
This Bastard-getting Peace unspirits me,  
A greater Corrosive to my active soul  
Then all past Ills whatever.  Lam. 
Cool your Rage,  
And be as Wise as Valiant; this is no time  
To vent your feeble Passions like a Woman:  
A Soldier's tongue moves only in his Sword.  Dum 
You are an expert Tutor, and I thank you.  
Our Wrongs would add a spirit to the Dead;  
And make them fight our Quarrels. Who comes here?  Enter Clarmount, attended by Nigrello Brisac, and other Lords bareheaded, who are followed by a Rabble of Petitioners. 
The Minion to our Queen. Oh what a Train  
His gaudy Greatness bears? 'Sdeath, were I jove  
But only for this Giant.  Petit. 
Good your Honour, our Wives and Children.  
Good your Honour hear us.  Clarm. 
Where are our Slaves: Keep off these dregs of men,  
Bring round my Chariot to the Postern Gate.  Petit. 
Good your Honour consider us.  Clarm. 
These Bell-mouthed Vassals split my Ears with noise.  
Make haste before, lest my great Mrs. wait  
My coming.  Petit. 
Good your Honour  [Exeunt Clarmount, Lords, and Petitioners. Dum 
These are the fruits of Peace Upstarts, and Flatterers.  
Tell me, Lamot, can this same Marchpane man  
Think or commit a sin, though ne'er so horrid,  
But it is Candid o'er.  
Were I the King;— but he is wilful blind.  
Before the Wanton and hot-blooded Queen  
Sold have the Licence but to be suspected,  
I'd lock her up, and house her like a Silkworm.  Lam. 
Pardon me, Sir, the good old King's unable.  Dum 
And therefore must admit an upstart Flatterer,  
Now raised to Honour by her lawless Lust:  
Marshal of France; the next step is the Throne.  
Oh peasant State, when Owls build Nests  
In Cedars tops, the Seats of Eagles.  
Were I the King, I'd Execute 'em both.  Lam. 
Execute 'em! By his best blood he dares not.  
The Unchaste Queen is great in Faction,  
Followed and Sainted by the Multitude,  
Whose judgement she has linked unto her Purse,  
And rather bought a Love then found it.  
She has a working Spirit, and active Brain:  
Besides her Sons, the Pillars of the State,  
Support her like an Atlas, where She sits,  
And like the heavens', commands our Fates beneath her:  
She is the Greater Light, the King a Star,  
That only shines but through her Influence.  Dum 
Hark!  [A flourish within. 
The Thunder of the War: How out of tune  
This Peace corrupting all things, makes 'em speak.  
What means this most adulterate noise?  Lam. 
This is a Night of Jubilee, and the King  
Solemnly Feasts for his Wars good success:  
We shall have Masques and Revelling to Night.  Dum 
Now the Great Gods confound this pickthank noise.  
The Drum and Trumpets too turned Flatterers.  
And Mars himself a Bawd to grace their Riots  Enter Nigrello, who delivers to each of them a Purse of Gold; leaves a Letter and departs. Lam. 
What Vision's this? 'Tis Gold, or sure I dream.  Dum 
I cannot tell whether I dream or not too.  
But this I'm sure, if I should see that Man  
That dares to take this from me, he should find  
I was awake. Was't not Nigrello brought it.  Lam. 
Yes.  Dum 
What Paper's that, Lamot.  Lam. 
If it be Chorus,  
To this dumb show I'll read it.  
The Letter.  
AS you are Soldiers, truly Valiant, I honour you; as poor, I pity you; and therefore have sent you what will render you as complete Courtiers, as undaunted Soldiers. Dumane and Lamot, let it suffice, we know you, for our Eye is every where. Whilst I remember your Worths, I shall forget your Parents Injuries. Fear nothing: for your hitherto Concealment, I'll get your Pardons; and whilst I breath, breathe your kind Mrs. If you dare trust us, appear at Court to Night so adorned as shall become your Honours and our Friends.  Fredigond. Dum 
We are betrayed, Lamot; what shall we do?  Lam. 
We'll take the gracious offer of the Queen.  
She's Princely, Vowed our Friend; besides, what ill  
Can we expect from her, who might have sent  
Her murdering Ministers, and slain us here,  
Had She intended foul play? No, She's Noble.  Dum 
Noble— Grant her so, yet—  Lam. 
Yet what?  Dum 
Her Murdered Brother's memory.  Lam. 
When He fell  
We were too far off for Traitors.  Dum 
But not for Torments had we been apprehended.  
For in the high displeasure of that Queen  
All our Posterity was doomed, some felt the Wheel,  
Some Wracked, some Hanged, others impaled on Stakes;  
And had not we been then in Wittenburgh  
We had added to the number of the Dead.  
And think you still we shall not?  Lam. 
By my Life  
'Tis Murder to suspect her: We'll to Court.  
Our Lives are all that we can lose, our Fame  
Stands fair; no power can reach a Soldier's Name.  [Exeunt. Enter Fredigond and Nigrello. Queen. 
What Conference did they maintain with thee?  Nigr. 
None further than the Language of their Eyes:  
They looked on me, as if they meant me thanks,  
Which their Amazement robbed me of.  Queen. 
Spoke they not?  Nig. 
No, not a word.  Queen. 
Do you know 'em?  Nigr. 
No, Royal Madam, they appeared to me  
But like the silent postures in the Arras,  
Only the form of men with stranger faces.  Queen. 
Come take 'em in▪ They are our Enemies,  
Which I have Angled with that golden bait.  
Their Parents waded in my Brother's blood,  
For which I'll be revenged on all their Race.  
Did they increase as fast as I could Kill,  
I'd ever Kill that they might still increase.  
A bloody, and a terrible mistake!  
To right the Injuries of their Ravished Sister,  
They Murdered Cl●dymer for Clotairs fact:  
My Brother Died for what my Son did act.  
For which thus Fredigond's revenged.  
The old Dumane, the Father to this Maid,  
With all his Kindred, all his Race, except  
Her wicked Brothers, and that Ravished Whore  
I have already Sacrificed.  
Is not Revenge a Pastime for the Gods?  Nigr. 
Were but their Ravished Sister, and those Brothers  
With 'em, it were a pastime for the Gods.  Queen. 
We find thee fit, Nigrello, for employment.  
I've always found thee trusty, and I love thee.  Nigr. 
I ●ay my Life at my great Mrs. feet.  
But, Madam, how came this their Sister Ravished?  
Now for the greatest Rancour of her Soul.  [Aside. 
Was She such Ice, or He so ill a Courtier,  
That He your Eldest Son, the Heir of France  
Could not subdue a Lady's heart, nor steal  
A Pleasure but with so much Violence?  
'Twas very hard he could not.  Queen. 
Yes, 'twas hard.  
'Twas my ill Fate he could not. For that Lady  
I knew he Loved; and I, & my dear Clarmount,  
Glad of th' occasion, instantly used all  
Our Arts to make Her His. 'Twas we seduced her  
By false pretences to that fatal place,  
Where my hot Sons wild passion forced her Honour.  
But for a different end we brought her thither;  
For we designed her for an easier prize,  
In hopes She would have yielded to his Arms,  
That when he had once debauched her to a Mistress,  
He might have been diverted by her Love,  
And those more fweet stolen Pleasures, from the thoughts  
Of the morose and duller Joys of Marriage,  
And the more weighty cares of Heirs to Kingdoms.  
And by that means we thought t'have softend him  
Into so loose a Life, as might have rendered  
My Clarmounts passage easier to the Crown.  Nigr. 
Was ever such a Bawd, or such a Mother?  [Aside. 
But She it seems more chaste than Wise, refused  
The gracious offer of your Princely Son.  Queen. 
Refused it? Yes: And (Curse upon the Name)  
Her Chastity that scorned his Love, inflamed it;  
And drew that Rage from his unruly Passion  
That lost her Honour, and my Brother's Life.  
Her Enraged Kindred wanting power for open  
Revenge, in a dark hour, and silent Walk  
Mistook, and Stabbed my Brother for my Son.  
But see how my Revenge I have pursued.  
And what's my Misery, I am still forced  
To set new Plots on foot.  Nigr. 
As how, Royal Madam?  Queen. 
I've laid the Platform of great Childricks' death.  Nigr. 
Her Husband's death!  [Aside. Queen. 
And they two Brothers must be thought his Murderers.  
Our Enemies, and now new Courtiers,  
Whom for this end I have reserved for Policy.  
First, that they take away the Guilt from Us:  
Next, being seized, to study Pains and Deaths,  
The Heads of all our Engineers shall sit  
T'invent unheard of Torments for the Villains.  
I long to see 'em greet their Kindred's Dust.  Nigr. 
The Plot's most admirable.  Queen. 
Then I'll commend thee to my Elder Son,  
Where thou shalt wind into his secret thoughts.  
As for the Younger Boy, let me alone.  
Did ever Woman less delight in blood,  
And shed so much as I must. Oh, Nigrello,  
I once was a Kind Wife and Pious Mother.  
But now my Husband, and my Sons must die,  
And I must be the Traitor. I can Weep  
To give 'em Deaths, and yet I cannot save 'em.  
Almighty Love this wondrous Change has made,  
A Love that has my hopes of Heaven betrayed:  
And yet I can't resist it. For my Clarmount,  
My best-loved Clarmounts sake, Husband and Sons  
Are Clouds betwixt my Love and Me: and all  
The ties of Blood and Nature are too small  
To check what Love resolves. When Love bears sway,  
All lesser powers, all weaker ties give way.  Enter Clarmount. 
Sir you are welcome.  
Your Visits have been freer, but I grow old,  
And you command the Beauties of the Time.  Clarm. 
What means my Noble Mistress, think you the blood  
Runs so degenerate within these Veins,  
To stoop to any thing below the Charms  
Of this Divinity?  Queen. 
But oh my dearest Clarmount, we are betrayed,  
Our Interview last Night was by the King  
Discovered.  Clarm. 
How discovered!  Queen. 
Yes; but by  
What Arts I cannot learn.  Nigr. 
Learn! No, 'tis past your skill. The Plots I lay,  
I defy all the Arts of Man or Devil,  
To countermine; or what's more subtle  
Than Man or Devil; I defy thy power,  
The power of Woman damned in Lust, whose Breast  
Harbours more Hell than Zealots Fears, or Poets Fables ever framed.  Aside 
Furies are Tame, and burning Lakes are cool●  
To thy Insatiate Lust and monstrous Villainies.  Clarm. 
How? has he dropped ambiguous words, and what  To Fredig. 
His Language left imperfect, spoke in Looks?  Queen. 
Yes Sir, but as he's of a fearful Nature,  
And consults safety ere his Rage speaks plain,  
So is he of a cruel one, when that rage  
Is ripe for action: what he intends  
I cannot guests, unless it be our deaths.  
Which if he speedily performs not, then  
Know he shall never; for this night concludes him.  Nigr. 
die, and to Night!  [Aside. Queen. 
The poison's drank already,  
And wants but some few hours for operation.  
My Sons I weigh not this. They have Rebelled  
And taken spirit to oppose my Will;  
For which it is not safe that they should live.  
The Kingdom's Heir shall be a Child of thine,  
And Kings and Queens shall follow in thy Line.  Enter Dumane and Lamot nobly Attired. 
You're welcome to the Court, take a Queen's word,  
Fredigond bids you welcome.  Dum 
Your Highness is all Mercy.  Queen. 
Follow us,  
We'll be your Guardian and Protectress.  Clarm. 
What are these?  Queen. 
Sheep, Clarmount, Sheep, which I have fatted up  
Only for Slaughter. If they look like things  
Worthy a humane name, call' ém a pair  
Of thinking Animals, (if what I hate  
Be worth the thought of Destiny,) by mine  
And their own Planets doomed ere they were born,  
First to be made my Slaves, and then my Victims.  
Mortals, whose pride does like thin Meteors rise;  
It shines this minute, and the next it dies.  
The Fates and I have in one Vote decreed  
That some shall smile to night, and others bleed.  Exeunt all but Nigrello. Nigr. 
Her Husband Poisoned, and his Life not in  
My power to save; and I unfortunately  
By her discovered Guilt an accessary  
To this outrageous Crime! Forgive me Heaven,  
And injured Majesty. My Vengeance calls  
For black and tainted blood. But since ill fate  
Has martyred Innocence: Since Destiny  
Has wrought thy Fall; yet in the worst mischance  
There is some good; thy Fatal Blood will add  
More weight to her Damnation, and more edge  
To my Revenge; which whilst my Arm pursues  
My Rage does from thy Ruin higher rise:  
I kill more justly: She more guilty dyes.  [Exit. Enter Lewis and Aphelia. Aph. 
If this should be dissembled, not your Heart;  
And having won my souls affection, you  
Should on a judgement more retired to State  
Fling off affection, and leave Me in Love,  
What ill-bred tales the World would make of me?  Lewis. 
That Jealousy I'll strangle. Take this Ring,  
Be this our mutual pledge of Love. That Diamond  
Is your Adorers Emblem; as the Sun  
From precious Dew does solid Diamonds make,  
So hard that they can no Impression take,  
But from the sacred Light from whence they grew:  
So shall my Bosom be inspired by You;  
Obdurate to all force, assault, surprise,  
All but the charms of fair Aphelias' Eyes.  
Your Beauty only shall my soul invite,  
Impenetrable to all power but Light.  
But see the King.  Enter passing over the stage; the Old King leading Fredigond attended by Clotair, Lewis, Brisac, Nigrello, Dumane, Lamot, Lords, Ladies, and Guards. Clotair viewing Aphelia, deserts the King's train, and with Nigrello steps upon the Stage. Clotair. 
Such Excellence I have not seen, Nigrello.  
What envious Parent, or Religious Fool  
Has kept such Beauty Prisoner to a Chamber,  
Or Cloister, that it ne'er shined out till now.  
That neither fame, nor her fair eyes have been  
My Friends before this hour. What Lady's that?  Nigr. 
Aphelia Daughter to a Country Lord,  
Whom late preferment from your Father's bounty,  
Due to his Loyalty, has newly brought  
To Court, and with him his chief Wealth, his Daughter.  Exeunt Lewis and Aphelia. Clotair. 
No, he's a poor Possessor of that Treasure:  
Beauty is Wealth to a Lover, not a Father:  
As Golds no Riches whilst 'tis in the Mine.  
Art sure she's honest?  Nigrell. 
Snow Sir, is not purer:  
She has the fame of a most rigid Virtue.  
She has not been long enough in the warm Court  
To thaw her frozen Constitution yet.  
Morals and Country piety stick close still.  Clot. 
So much the worse; however use thy skill,  
Get but that Lady for me.  Nigr. 
Sir, She dotes  
Upon your Brother, and though their acquaintance  
Has not been long, they've interchanged their hearts,  
And built in minutes what can't be destroyed  
In Ages.  Clotair. 
How, more Mountains in my way?  
I like not that; however though he Love her,  
I must enjoy her. We're by Nature Lords  
Of our Desires, why not their Objects too.  
Let others Love in their way, I in mine.  
Love is the Pulse of souls, and beats most high  
In feverish tempers, such as burn like mine.  Nigr. 
Spite of her Chastity, I have a plot  
To get her Company for you to Night.  
Trust me to serve you Sir.  Clotair. 
Do't and be happy.  [Exit. Nigr. 
I fear it not. For this design, I'm sure to have  
His heart and soul. Delight ne'er goes unpaid;  
This Service Prince, I'm sure you will requite.  Exit.  

ACT the Second.  
Enter Nigrello and Aphelia. Aph. 
BUt why, Sir, would the Prince make this Night-visit?  
He knows my Virtue, knows my Honour is  
My Guard; but such a Guard, as he may pass  
If he but give the word, when light and day  
Give his access an honourable title.  
Why this dark minute for an interview;  
The Visits which we made, the Sun still knew.  
My Love and I have met under his Beams;  
But ne'er by Night before, unless in Dreams.  
And those so pure, so innocent  
As slumbering Vestals would not blush to own;  
When wearied, they for a short rest retire  
To gain new strength to tend the sacred fire.  Nigr. 
Yours, And your Prince's honour is so firm,  
That privacy and Night can add no stains  
To Virtues so unsullied; and the cause  
Why he requests this solitary meeting, is,  
To tell you France beholds his growing lustre  
With wondering eyes, and their unmannerd zeal  
Designs to match him with th' Infanta of Spain;  
The hopes of which Alliance, and the fear  
Of your too powerful Influence o'er his heart,  
Which some Court-spyes have by their arts discovered,  
Have shrunk your Beauty's estimate: Your Eyes  
Are looked upon as Comets, that design  
A Nations hurt, grown fatal where they shine.  
Their Malice has with their new Hopes conspired:  
They look with hate on what they once admired.  Aph. 
And is the Prince too joined in this new Change?  
Are his looks altered too?  Nigr. 
No; nor his Heart:  
He thinks with scorn on their unwelcome kindness,  
And begs this private conference to tell you  
How much of Fate in your great Beauty lives,  
And what irrevocable dooms it gives.  
His Love is moved by Destiny, not Chance;  
He'll Marry you, and blast the hopes of France.  Aph. 
A Love so pure, a bliss so high— Lead on.  
Where such Light shines, all fears and Clouds are gone.  Nigr. 
Oh admirable Villainy! Revenge  
Does feed on Ruin. Ruins are  
Its Food and Life; it flourishes as they  
Who living on Seacoasts, for Tempests pray.  
When against Rocks some wealthy Vessel cracks,  
They run to shore, and are made rich by wracks.  Aside Exeunt.  

Scene the Second:  Enter Clotair, Lewis, Fredigond, Dumane, Lamot, and Guards. Clotair. 
Horror and death! My Royal Father Poisoned!  Lew. 
Oh dismal fatal hour!  Queen. 
My Childrick dead!  Lam. 
Have patience Royal Madam.  Queen. 
Stand off.  
Preach Patience to the Sea, when the rude winds  
Swell her Ambitious Billows 'bove the Clouds;  
And if thou tutour'st them to peace and silence,  
I'll be as calm as they.  Clotair. 
The Treason visible, and not the Traitor!  Queen. 
Ignorance darkens Hell. Doubt you the Traitors.  
I've brought a pair of Vipers to the Court;  
Warmed and relieved them, that their sting might kill us.  
Who could be Authors of this deed but they?  
'Tis his new bosome-Friends have Murdered him.  Clot. 
Our Guards?  
Lay hands upon the Traitors.  Lam. 
Oh Dumane,  
We are betrayed.  Dum 
There's justice in our Cause,  
Why not our Swords? I'll die before I'll yield.  Lam. 
Than die by me.  
Yield up your Sword, or you shall fall by mine.  The Guards seize'em. Dum 
Must we be Prisoners then, and Traitors too?  Lam. 
No. The first name enough, a name too haish  
For Soldiers,  
Did not our King command it; and the last  
Too horrid for Mankind, or aught but Devil.  
The disobeying of a Kings so heinous  
That you deserved your death for your resistance.  
His will is, we are Prisoners; but for Traitors,  
Poisoners of Kings: Know mighty Prince, and You  
Whom Blood and Duty bids our King call Mother,  
We're injured, basely wronged. Madam from you—  Queen. 
Yes, 'tis from Me you have received the name  
Of Murderers, if you acquit yourselves  
I shall be still the gracious Queen I was;  
Till then expect— Oh my much injured Lord,  
What Vengeance hangs upon the blood of Kings;  
But what more heavy burden on my heart?  
A load that sinks me. Go, convey'em hence;  
Let'em be strictly guarded till to morrow.  Lam. 
Fetters or Death are things that we can bear.  Dum 
'Tis not the Wrack that can our courage tame,  
Our only Torture is a sullied Name.  
The Queen well knows—  Queen. 
Oh, Sir, command 'em hence.  
I know too much to have so tame a sense  
Of my dear Lords loved blood.  Lam. 
But Sir—  Queen. 
Away.  
To Prison straight; they kill me if they stay.  
Who patiently can brook a Traitor's sight,  
But they who in a Traitor's Crimes delight.  Exeunt Dumane and Lamot forced out by the Guards. Enter Nigrello. Clotair. 
Madam, dry up your tears.  
Expect to hear that Justice done, that's due  
To a Murdered Monarchs Blood, and Fathers too.  
But to Aphelia first; if kind Nigrello  
Be but successful in this Night's design,  
This Night I'll in her Arms my Passion Crown.  
But stay! My Father died but now; his Fate calls down  
For thoughts of Vengeance, and my tender breast  
Should be with dreams of piety possessed:  
With thoughts of Blood and Death, of Funeral Beds,  
Of Martyred Monarchs, and of Traitor's heads;  
A Mother's Tears, and walking Father's Ghost,  
Disturbed i'th' other world, for what in this was lost.  
These should I think on; but to night sleep sorrow:  
For Love to night, and for Revenge to morrow.  
The world has much mistaken been, to say  
That walking Spirits love the Night, not Day.  
Prisoners as well in Dungeons may delight:  
They're doomed to shades, and therefore pleased with Light:  
It is not Ghosts, but Lovers walk by Night.  Exit. Manent only Queen and Nigrello. Queen. 
Their Blood thou seest must for my Crimes be spilled:  
Mine is the Innocence, and theirs the Guilt.  
But hold Nigrello, say the Cloud we raised  
Should be transparent, and my Arts that gave  
'Em Fetters, have not power to work a Grave.  
Suppose they clear themselves. What though the King  
Has in a heat of fury built his Faith  
Upon my Tears, and has decreed their death:  
Yet when he comes to a more calm debate,  
His senses may be cleared, and we may find  
His Justice, when more Tardy, is less blind.  Nigr. 
Revenge that moves most slowly, is most wise:  
When it has fiercest hands, has weakest eyes.  Queen. 
But to dispel that fear, be it your care  
To Poyson'em before their Trial comes;  
Which done, I will give out, and get it sworn  
They Poisoned their own selves; and chose that death  
T'avoid those fiercer torments that they knew  
Were to their guilt a Monarchs Murder due.  
Do this, and we are safe: Perform this act,  
And think what Debts you from your Queen contract.  Nigr. 
It shall be done, and done without a pause;  
Doubt not my Service in so great a Cause.  Exit Queen. 
No, Monster-Woman, neither of 'em Bleeds,  
My Vengeance aims at more Heroic deeds:  
My Rage shall at the Heads of Princes fly;  
'Tis thou, and thy Adulterate Race shall die.  Exit. Enter Lewis and Brisac. Lew. 
Your Sister not returned yet? This late hour,  
And her strange absense makes me all amazement.  Brisac. 
My Father Sir, is all Distraction for her;  
In pious Rage one while he storms at Her,  
Another at the Court So far i'th' Night,  
And his Aphelia ●absent, he's undone.  
Courts are no Sanctuaries, She no Vestal.  
Then prays to Heaven to mend the one, and guard  
The other.  Lew. 
For her Virtue, that I fear not.  
I know, (whatever outward force may do,)  
Within She has no Traitor. The Sun's eye  
Views not a fairer outside, nor can Heaven  
Inspire a brighter Soul.  Brisac. 
But Sir, Nigrello  
Has just now sent me word, that there's a business  
Requires your Company, and mine to Night  
In such a private Chamber; for there's something  
That's near my Honour, and your Heart in danger.  Lew. 
Then 'tis no idle fear: Show me the place.  
Ghosts keep your Beds, you Sentinels of Night,  
Goblins and Spectres do not walk your round.  
A general Lethargy seize on this hour,  
Whilst I alone, the Watchman of the Night  
Will wake in spite of Fate. Argus' thy Eyes  
To find Aphelia, and her Injuries.  Exeunt. Enter Aphelia and Nigrello with a Light. Aph. 
Into what Labyrinth do you lead me, Sir?  
Had you not used his Name, which is to Me  
A strength 'gainst Terror, and himself so good  
Occasion cannot vary, nor the night,  
Youth, nor his wild desires; otherwise  
A silent sorrow from my Eyes would steal  
And tell sad stories for me.  Nigr. 
You are too tender of your Honour Madam,  
Leave your vain fears. The Prince has no desires  
But what are just; nor does he own that heat,  
Which were you Snow, would thaw a tear from you.  Aph. 
Is this the place appointed?  Nigr. 
Yes, I'll call him:  
Here is a Book will bear you company  
Till my return.  
Hither I send the King; not that I mean  
To give him time to cool his burning Lust,  
For Lewis shall present him in the fact.  
And thus I shall endear myself to both.  
Lewis enraged, I'm certain will conceive  
Such mortal hatred 'gainst his Lustful Brother,  
For such an outrage offered to his Mistress,  
As will prepare his breast for the impressions  
I must make there.  
My skill must fail me, if I do not set.  
Thy Crown upon thy Brother's head. Clotair,  
Thy Cankered heart wants Lancing; and thy Brother  
Shall by my Art, administer that cure  
Which France will thank him for. Thy Mother too  
With her Incarnate Devil Clarmount, shall be  
The next whom my Revenge shall damn, if Hell  
Be but as just as I; for 'tis their Right:  
Hell then be kind, and let's join force to Night.  Exit. Aph. 
Poor Ravished Philomel, thy Lot was ill  
To meet that Violence from a Brother.  Enter Clotair in a Cloak. Aphelia sits down and Reads. Clot. 
She has Sworn Faith to Lewis, and to woe her  
Into my Arms, (suppose 'twere possible,)  
'Tis not a work of so few hours as I have  
To accompish it. The flattery of to morrow  
Is a smooth Style for a calm-blooded Lover.  
But Seiges will not down with my Complexion:  
She has tied her Soul to Lewis, and a Parley  
Will scarce get a Surrender of a heart  
So fortified; however win her I must:  
And the most likely way to do't, is as  
The World was Conquered once: He was the Man  
That cut that Knot which was too hard t'untye.  
I must confess I've read that Force in Love's  
A sin that forfeits Souls: But She's so fair,  
The pleasure can't be bought too dear.  Aph. 
I feel my heart burdened with something ominous.  
What if Nigrello should play foul, and this  
Expected Lover should not be the Prince?  
I dare not stand the hazard; guide me Light.  Offers to go. Clot. 
I must be Resolute. Fair Lady—  Aph. 
What Man art thou  
That hidest thy face from Darkness, and the Night?  
What art thou? speak: And wherefore comest thou hither?  Clot. 
I come to find one Beautiful as thou art;  
And am a Man willing to please a Woman.  Aph. 
I understand you not.  Clot. 
I will instruct you:  
And 'tis so smooth a Lesson, and so easy,  
That a good will is all the pains in learning it.  
And when once learned, the Pleasure is so sweet,  
The Practice so delightful, that not the  
Worst memory in all our Sex could e'er  
Forget it. Come dear Madam, closer yet;  
And let our Souls lodge in our sense.  Aph. 
Help, help.  Clot. 
None of your Clamours, Lady.  [Draws his Dagger. 
If you rise one note higher, you see your Death.  Aph. 
What Violence is this? Why do you wrack me thus?  
My hands are guilty of Crime; do not torment 'em.  
My heart and they have joined in Prayers together  
For Mankind that is Holy; if in that act  
They have not prayed for you, mend and be good,  
The fault is none of theirs.  Clot. 
Come, do not seem  
More holy than you are: I know your heart.  Aph. 
Let your Dagger too, Noble Sir, strike home,  
And Sacrifice a Soul to Chastity,  
As pure and spotless as her Innocence.  Clot. 
This is not the best way—  [Undisguises. 
Know you Me, Madam?  Aph. 
The Majesty of France.  Clot. 
Be not afraid.  Aph. 
I dare not fear; 'tis Treason to suspect  
My King can think an ill, much worse to act it.  
I know you're Godlike good, and have but tried  
How far weak Woman could be Virtuous.  Clot. 
Pretty Simplicity, thou art deceived;  
Thy Wit as well as Beauty wounds me.  
It is thy Virtue moves me, and thy Goodness  
Tempts me to acts of Evil: Wert thou bad,  
Or lose in thy Desires, I then could stand  
And only gaze, not surfeit on thy Beauty.  
But as thou art, there's Witchcraft in thy face:  
I must enjoy thee, or not thou thy Life.  Enter Lewis and Brisac to the door. Aph. 
Your are my King, and may command my Life;  
My Will to sin you cannot. You may force  
Unhallowed deeds upon me, spot my fame.  
And when you've done this Irreligious deed,  
What Trophy, or what Triumph will it bring  
More than a living scorn upon your Name?  
The Ashes in your Urn will suffer for't.  
Virgin's will sow their Curses on your Grave,  
Time blot your Princely Parentage, and call  
Your very Birth in question. Do not think  
This deed will lie concealed; for Kings appear  
When great in sin,  
Like to Prodigious Comets in the Air,  
At which all tongues are mute, all eyes do stare.  Clot. 
I can endure no longer; I'm all fire.  
Madam in vain—  Aph. 
Hold, Royal Sir—  Clot. 
No more.  
I am resolved, and what I once resolve  
Is in the Book of Fate: I must enjoy you,  
And though by Force that blessing I extort,  
Repine not at the loss of what, though Princes  
Cannot restore, they can repay; for this  
Stolen pleasure I'll be a Lover, Friend, and King.  Aph. 
Do not mistake, great Sir,  
These are too gentle names for Ravishers.  
If you proceed, and this black Crime take wing,  
You will be neither Lover, Friend, nor King.  Lew. 
Hold, hold, my heart. Can I endure— Unhand me,  
Lest I forget myself on thee.  Bris. 
Good Sir  
Remember 'tis your Brother, and the King.  Lew. 
Oh that I could forget it, that I could  
Shake off my Duty, and renounce my Blood.  
That like a Whirlwind, I might rush upon him  
And bear him to Destruction.  
Sir how can you  
Abuse such Innocence? is't not enough  
That you have wronged Clotilda, Ravished a Maid,  
A Virgin of that Innocence of Life,  
Might Saint her here on earth: But you must add  
To your first Crime a second Violence,  
The Gods must not forgive?  Enter Nigrello. Clot. 
If you esteem  
A Monarch's friendship worth a Subjects care,  
Express your Zeal more mannerly; be a Brother,  
And aid me in my desires.  Lew. 
Be a Man,  
And shake a Nature off will damn you.  Clot. 
Traitor Boy,  
Thy Fate moves in those words.  Draws. Lew. 
And is it so?  
Then King defend thy Life, for I am swift  
As Lightning, or the thought that Executes.  [Draws. Brisac. 
Hold, hold my Lord, forbear.  Aph. 
Help, help.  Enter Fredigond, Clarmount, Bourbon, and Attendants. Nigr. 
Lewis o'er acts the part that I designed him,  
For if he falls I'm lost.  They fight, and Lewis falls. Aph. 
Oh my unhappy Lord! Oh my swollen heart!  Queen. 
Oh bloody King. Thy hand has made those wounds,  
For which the Vengeance of a Mother's Curse,  
Abler in operation then Lightning,  
Strike through thy body, every Limb a Death.  
A Husband, and a Son, lost in one Night.  Nigr. 
Damn her false tears; she's glad he is dead.  Aph. 
Now you have killed him, wherefore do I live.  Clot. 
Remove that Siren from our wandering Eyes,  
And house her in a Dungeon.  [To Bourbon. Aph. 
A Dungeon Sir— you and my Stars are kind,  
If in that Dungeon I a Grave may find.  
How great will Fame proclaim you, if your Breath  
Be but propitious, and pronounce my Death?  
What different Fates can Majesty decree?  
Your Cruelty kills him, your Kindness me.  [Exit. Let out by Bourbon. Nigr. 
Great Sir, I have a boon to beg.  Clot. 
What is't?  Nigr. 
The body of the Prince.  
I beg the ordering those Funeral Rites  
Which his high Birth deserves.  Clot. 
That care be thine.  Queen. 
Oh thou Inhuman bloody Tyrant—  Clot. 
Mother,  
Bestow your tears on those whom they can melt,  
I am too hard for pity.  
And scorn to have my thoughts so ill employed,  
To mourn for what my justice has destroyed.  Exit. Nigr. 
Dear Lewis,  
The Glory I intended thee, the punishment  
Of a base tyrants' Crimes chance has prevented.  
But what I left  
Unpaid to thee; I'll to thy Ghost make good,  
Appease it first with Tears, and then with Blood.  Exit with the Guards who carry off Lewis. Manent only Fredigond, and Clarmount. Fredig. 
Now we begin to flourish, this black Night  
Is only lighted by our Stars that smile  
Upon these actions, and rejoice to see  
Thee our dear Favourite so near a Crown.  
But tell me Clarmount, how did I act the Mother?  Clar. 
You wept for certain.  Queen. 
Yes, as an Actor in a Play would do.  Clarm. 
And I methinks could write you Subjects too.  
I'd teach you Love, whose universal power does rule  
Far as the Light; equal in Cell and Court,  
Love the World's business, and the Stages sport.  Enter Nigrello. Queen. 
And Sir, to show how apt a Scholar I'll be,  
At Night, make me a visit and instruct me.  
The Court's disorder for these late mischances,  
By kind Nigrelloes' help and your Disguise,  
Renders your Visits easy and unsuspected.  
Then all our Cares, a quiet rest shall take.  
All other Passions sleep when Love's awake.  Exeunt Clarmount and Fredigond. Nigr. 
There you shall sleep your last: I'll to the King,  
And he shall take you in the very act.  
And that I may not seem the unkind discoverer  
Of his Dishonour, and his Mother's Guilt,  
I'll set on fire the Queen's Apartment,  
That so I may disturb 'em more securely,  
And yet the Plot not mine. I'll tell the King,  
Unless there's present help, his Mother burns.  
Waked by the Alarm  
Of such a bold intruder as the Fire,  
I'll scorch the sweating satire from his den,  
Till the roused Monster to escape that Fate,  
Shall rush into th' King's very Arms, a toil  
That's strong enough to hold him; if there's Gall  
Or Honour in a Tyrant's breast to punish  
So infamous and public a disgrace  
T'extract a Lecher from a Flaming Bed;  
A rare Alembick, excellent Chemistry.  
All my misfortune is, I must myself  
Be an assistant to this amorous meeting;  
A kind Procurer to a Royal Strumpet.  
But let that pass; for an exploit so rare,  
There is no dress, But what Revenge dares wear.  Exit. 
The end of the Second Act.    

ACT the Third.  
After [Fire] cried, Enter Clotair, Nigrello, Lords, and Guards. Nigr. 
LOok how it flames, I fear some Treachery:  
Beat at her Chamber door, cry it aloud,  
And let your voice be Thunder to this Lightning.  Guards. 
Fire, Fire.  Clot. 
Mother awake, left you do sleep for ever;  
Force open the door.  Guards. 
Fire, Fire.  Nigr. 
It's fortified against strength, you must call louder.  Clot. 
Madam, awake, awake;  
Your sleep was never so like Death as now.  Enter Fredigond above, in her Night Gown. Queen. 
What Impudence is this, dares be so rude?  
He had better roused a sleeping Lioness  
Then thus have broke my slumbers. What art thou?  Clot. 
Look!  
The fire will give you light; 'tis I, your Son.  
Fly from that Chamber or you're lost: The Court  
Is all on Fire.  Queen. 
Let it burn.  
I've lost my Credit everlastingly.  [Aside. Enter Clarmount above in a Nightgown behind her. Clarm. 
What shall we do in this Necessity?  
We shall be taken, and you shamed for ever.  
Let us bethink ourselves; what shall we do?  To the Queen Queen. 
I know not what: Curse on this blazing light.  
No Art, no Magic, no Devil of our side!—  
Kind Fates, I have it— Clarmount, in my Closet  
Lies th' Habit that my Husband wore last Night  
When he was Poisoned; put on that, and with  
Part of the same Disguise you entered in,  
Make up the form of the dead King, which sight  
With the surprise that I'll put on, shall so  
Amaze▪ him, till you have passed by him safely.  
Do not appear to me, I did not wrong thee,  To Clar. 
Seek out the Beds of those that caused thy Death,  
And howl to them thy pitiful Complaints.  Clot. 
Whom do you hold discourse with, with the Air?  Queen. 
Oh Son,  
Such horrid Apparitions  
Have I beheld, have quite unwitted me:  
Your Father's Ghost most terribly frightful  
Has thrice this dismal Night appeared to me:  
In his right hand he bore a shining Cup,  
Which to his mouth he raised with looks so gay,  
As if he drank a health to some young Bride.  
The airy Potion drank, straight in a sum  
He threw the seeming Goblet to the ground,  
And with an altered look assumed a paleness  
More death like then the frost, his Age and Cares  
Made him in Life-time wear: To Heaven he pointed,  
Thrice did he cry, Revenge; and at that word  
Sprung through the Roof which now stands bare to Heaven,  
Where he did rain down Fire which here you see.  Clot. 
Behold it comes.  Queen. 
Oh fear it not my Son.  [Descends. Enter Clarmount disguised in the habit of Childrick, his face discolour'd white. Clot. 
My Father's form exactly, who could think  
The Devil were so good at Picture-drawing●  
Pray Heaven he be not Ceremonious; for  
I find myself but ill provided for●  
A Compliment. If it be Injuries,  
Break open Monuments, and disturb the Dead:  
I'll see thy rights performed. If thou desirest  
To be appeased with Blood, Blood thou shalt have:  
Or if that's not enough, I'll build thee Temples.  
Thou shalt have Altars, humane Sacrifices.  
Do but depart; thy presence does not please me,  
Thou art not Company for Flesh and Blood.  Exit Clarm. Enter Queen below. Queen. 
How fares our Son?  Clot. 
Fares Mother, as a Man  
Would fare that never saw the Devil before:  
He was a Stranger to me, and surprised me.  Nigr. 
The Villain has outhwitted me.  [Aside. Clot. 
If Revenge Manent only King, Queen, & Nigrel.  
Will do the work; Nigrello bring the Prisoners.  Nigr. 
Dumane Sir, and Lamot?  Clot. 
Yes, them.  Nigr. 
Oh Sir,  
Your Princely care for your great Mother's danger  
Diverted me from interrupting your  
More pious thoughts, or else I had informed you  
That but just now their Jailor brought me word  
That they have took a draught of Poison (but  
How got, he knows not) to escape those tortures,  
It is imagined that their guilty Conscience  
Expected would attend so damned a Crime:  
They have prevented Justice, and are dead.  Clot. 
Poisoned, and dead!  Nigr. 
Poisoned, and Damned; for sure Heaven that ordains  
The Murderers of Kings such easy Deaths,  
Designs the greater torments for their Souls.  Queen. 
Poisoned! By Poison my great Lord expired.  
Is Providence so barren to Decree  
Martyr and Murderers one Destiny.  
Heaven that fore sees the Falls, & Seals the Tombs  
Of Monarchs, had decreed severer Dooms  
For Traitors, had it felt my sufferings,  
My griefs, my pains, my sense of Murdered Kings.  [Exit. Clot. 
His Poisoners Dead, and yet his Ghost disturbed!  
Or are there more of the Conspiracy,  
Whose Deaths his troubled shade comes to demand?  Nigr. 
What shade?  Clot. 
My Father's Spirit, in his very habit;  
Here from my Mother's Chamber it came forth.  Nigr. 
His habit had it on; his very habit?  Clot. 
His habit, so I say; the very dress  
He wore last night, when the accursed Poison  
Impoverished France to enrich Heaven.  Nigr. 
That habit,  
As I remeraber, was last night put off  
In the Queen's Bed chamber● the King was in  
Her Lodging seized with the first pains of that  
Qutragious Poison; in the midst of whose  
Tormenting heat, in pious Duty,  
T'administer some ease by th' help of Air.  
His Garments from his Body we tore off.  
Stripped from which burden, to my certain knowledge  
That habit never stirred from thence till now.  
And the Disguise his Ghostly Visage wore,  
I'm confident was more Pleasant to the Queen  
When't entered thither, though so terrible.  
When it departed thence— Ha, ha, ha,  Clot. 
Why this ridiculous Mirth.  Nigr. 
The Devil Sir, came from your Mother's Bed chamber?  
She can raise a Spirit.  
But such an old, dry, hairy Apparition—  
'Tis well 'twas but a Vision; for I know  
So well her Constitution  
That 'tis a younger substance must pleas Her.  
But Clarmount, thanks t'his Stars under that frozen out side—  Clot. 
How! What say you?  Nigr. 
Sir, not t'abuse your Patience,  
He has had as free access to her, as e'er  
Your Father had.  Clot. 
But art thou sure on't?  Nigr. 
Ha! What a look was there to ask that question!  [Aside. 
Sir, if I've wronged your Honour or her Virtue,  
May the just Gods—  Clot. 
No troubling Heaven to witness it.  
Tell me, art confident—  Nigr. 
Of what?  Clot. 
What have we  
Been talking of? th'Intrigue between my Mother  
And Clarmount.  Nigr. 
By your unconcern for her  
Dishonour, I suspect you understand me not.  Clot. 
'Sdeath, but I do: Where lies the Mystery?  
My Mother holds an amorous League with Clarmount,  
And the next Night after her Husband's Death,  
Admitted him t'her Bed; and then for fear  
Of a Discovery, disguised him  
In her Dead Husband's habit. Wit, I love thee:  
By heavens' 'twas witty.  Nigr. 
Does it please you Sir?  Clot. 
Please me? Yes, above expression I would not  
Have missed this knowledge for a Kingdom's wealth.  
Good kind Informer, tell me, does she practise  
These wanton Revels often? Bless my Ears  
With the discovery; speak: is it often?  Nigr. 
Sir, you amaze me to be thus transported:  
I thought the news would not have been so welcome.  Clot. 
Not welcome! Yes, I pardon her, and thank her.  
I find the sin of Lust is not so Capital.  
My Father but last Night by Poison Dyed,  
And I at the same time by Lust inflamed,  
Lest the concern due to a Father's Murder,  
To fly into a Mistresses embrace.  
I but a Father lost; and by that loss  
I gained a Throne: She lost a King and Husband,  
And with that loss a Crown: Yet Love had power  
To make her losses, King and Crown forget,  
And the next Night fly to a Lovers Arms.  
Why then should I be troubled; when my sin  
(If it be one) runs in my Blood: My Mother  
Was kind before me; and if  
Such pleasant harmless Crimes must needs be punished,  
My Parents then  
Ought to be sufferers for my Offences.  
Nature's in fault; I act but what I'm born to.  Nigr. 
Shall Clarmount live then; shall this Insolent Villain  
Profane your Blood, and have his own unspil●?  Clot. 
I hate th' Offender, though I love the Guilt.  
She is my Mother, and her Favourites Blood  
Must expiate the injuries of Majesty.  
He dies for't. Think not  
Because I practise it, I can forgive it:  
What Nature pardons, Honour punishes.  
But say, how fares Aphelia?  Nigr. 
Wrapped in sorrow,  
As her ill fate requires.  Clot. 
As so much Beauty  
Does not deserve. I once was of a Nature  
Unmoved by any thing in Womankind  
But the Enjoyment. I esteemed 'em Vassals  
To our desires, not Sovereign's over 'em.  
But why her Beauty, Virtue, or her wrongs  
Have altered me, I know not, but am sensible  
Of a strange Change, of which I feel th'effects,  
But cannot tell the Cause; a shining light  
Shoots through me, and my yielding heart gives way:  
Where the Usurping Guest reigns Lord, and I his Slave obey.  [Exit.] Nigr. 
So far I'm happy. Clarmounts Doom is Sealed.  
I know he has so much Honour, that I doubt not  
His profecution of so infamous  
And black a guilt; and though his own stains cannot,  
His Mothers I am sure will fret his Heart strings.  Enter Lewis disguised. Lew. 
My kind Preserver, my dear dear Nigrello.  Nigr. 
Sir, your recovery to life, the health  
Of France, the Hopes of Kingdoms, and the pride  
Of Europe—  Lew. 
Hold Nigrello, by my life  
That life ● owe to thee, thou flatterest me.  
Heaven when it gave me breath, ordained me for  
My Country's humble Slave ● and now thou hast  
Restored that Breath they Creature.  Nigr. 
Sir, no more.  
The action has so well itself rewarded,  
That I'm o'repaid with half this Compliment.  
But Sir, why do you walk abroad so soon,  
Your wounds being so fresh, the Air may hurt you.  Lew. 
Oh fear not that; the cause that brings me hither  
Has perfected my cure. I come to ask  
My fair Aphelias' safety.  Nigr. 
Sir, be satisfied.  
Her Life, her Honour, and her Love are safe.  
The king, 'tis true, Dotes on her, even to madness.  
After you had fallen, and he had in blind rage  
Sent her to Prison, touched with sudden sense  
Of his own Guilt, her Innocence and Wrongs,  
And the bright stamp her Beauty had imprinted,  
He's grown so Passionate and changed a Lover,  
As't may be feared, that if no other means  
Can conquer her, He'● Marry her, t'enjoy her.  Lew. 
Marry her!  
The voice of Schreichowls o'er the Graves of Traitors,  
Is Music to this Language.  Nigr. 
Cease your Fears;  
Your Image in her Bosom, and my power  
Step in between. A crown can neither tempt her,  
Nor shall he wrong her. Let my Arts alone  
To countermine her Danger, and his Lust.  Lew. 
Your Friendship kind Nigrello—  Nigr. 
Call it Justice:  
A service due to injured Innocence.  
But Sir, as I'm a suffering Lady's Champion,  
Be you a bleeding Kingdoms. I've a story  
Will wrack your Ears, and scorch your Royal blood  
Into a fever. Dumane and Lamot,  
The Kings suspected Murderers, you know  
Were sent to Prison: But your Zealous Brother,  
Out of a pious horror even to hear  
The story of a Father's Death repeated,  
Gave me Commission privately in Prison  
To Poison 'em before their Trial came.  Lew. 
Good Gods! What do I hear?  Nigr. 
Then 'twas resolved  
To have it published to the World they poisoned  
Themselves t'avoid that certain Execution  
It would be thought they expected and deserved.  
And thus this Artifice, he imagined would  
Silence all farther dangerous inquiries  
Into so great a secret.  Lew. 
Hell and Devils!  
But kind Nigrello, as my preservation  
Convinces me thou'rt honest, yet—  Nigr. 
Yes Sir,  
I guess your trouble, you would have me prove  
This Imputation; yes, 'tis just I should,  
And though you've found me honest, yet believe  
My honesty in such a weighty cause  
No farther than your eyes. Then to convince you  
That I had the disposal of their Lives,  
Instead of Poisoning 'em, I have released 'em.  Lew. 
Released 'em!  Nigr. 
Yes, and satisfied the King,  
(Whose confidence in my dispatch had made him  
Apt for th'impression) that he thinks 'em dead.  
And to confirm you, in few hours you'll hear  
The train has took, and that the City's loud  
With the discourse both of their Guilt and Deaths.  Lew. 
Thou hast a Wit, great as thy Loyalty,  
And their deliverance is a proof of both.  
This process of a Father's Death, has roused  
My Soul, and showed me Horrors in a shape  
Too terrible to enter Loyal hearts,  
And not bring thoughts of Vengeance with them. France,  
'Tis I must disabuse thee.  Nigr. 
Sir, the Prisoners  
Thus Rescued, for my safety walk in Clouds,  
And under borrowed Names; they, I intent  
Shall visit you, and make the business plain.  Lew. 
My Resentments  
Of my wronged Father's death a while must pause,  
I'll Right a Kings, but first a Mistress's Cause.  Nigr. 
Sir, I'll contrive to place you where you'll hear  
What passes the next interview between 'em:  
But keep on your disguise, wear your Mask still;  
'Tis not yet known you live, which if it were,  
Your access would be difficult; besides  
You'll have the greater trial of her Faith  
By th' greater hate she expresses to your Murderer,  
Which your disclosed Recovery would frustrate.  Lew. 
Do this, and I am blessed. What scene of Love  
Could be more pleasant? Be myself Spectator  
Of my Love's Funeral Rites? Behold the Tears  
Aphelia pays my Tomb? What voice more charming,  
What nobler Monument? nay, what Bliss more high  
Than Love paid to a Lover's Memory?  
No Constancy like what Death cannot shake:  
What Saint would not this Paradise forsake:  
Could he invisibly to Earth return,  
To see a faithful Mistress at his Urn?  [Exit. Nigr. 
How my designs succeed? which that they're just  
Heaven by his preservation has confirmed,  
In saving of his Life to make him Agent  
In my Revenge. The King, though I know he hates him,  
Will be extremely glad of his Recovery,  
If but t'appease his murmuring people's Anger,  
Who he knows are more than Mourners for his Death.  
And for the Prince, whose heart, my Services  
To him and his Aphelia, have made mine,  
His Mistress's Injuries, and Father's Murder  
Which I have artfully made the King's Guilt,  
Will raise a fire within him  
Too hot and fierce to smother, or be stopped  
Till it break out in a Rebellion. Which  
His Interest in the French hearts will animate.  
What could I wish for more, then to engage  
The fury of a Kingdom in my Rage?  [Exit.  

Scene the Second. The Scene a Dungeon.  Aphelia is discovered on a Couch. Enter Clotair. King. 
Now I am justly punished for my sins.  
That Violence I offered to thy Honour,  
Thou on my Breast hast acted; Ravished thence  
My Freedom and my Heart. All thoughts of rest,  
And hopes of Peace are banished from this Seat,  
Thy Tyrant-pow'r has seized. Nay Crown and Life  
Turn Vassals; at thy feet they prostrate lie;  
Yet though their Fall is low, their Object's high.  
Though at thy Feet they humble homage pay,  
Up to thy Eyes they look, the Heavens to which they pray.  
And if she be not all Disdain, all Marble,  
I'll shake her pious constancy to Lewis,  
Make her admire my Love; if not reward it.  Aph. 
The King!  [Rises. King. 
Is this a Lodging for so fair a Guest?  
Is this a Shrine for such a Saint? Is this  
A Temple fit for such a bright Divinity?  
Who waits without there?  Enter Bourbon. Burb. 
Royal Sir, your pleasure?  King. 
How came this Lady hither?  Burb. 
By command  
From you.  King. 
Liar and Slave, from Me!  [Strikes him. 
My Guards there.  Enter Guards. 
Here kill that Dog,— but stay— A death so gentle  
Would be an act of Mercy, not of Justice.  
Oh impudence unpardonable!  
I send so great a Beauty to a Dungeon!  
Convey him hence, and let him die by tortures,  
Wracked limb from limb, let his torn Carcase bleed;  
And feel such pains so black a Guilt, and such  
A Blasphemy deserves. A Dungeon!  Burb. 
Hold great Sir, do but remember—  King. 
Good Gods! The Traitor has the Impudence  
To speak. Be gone. Has not thy tongue been guilty  
Enough already, but thou still darest breath  
After so damned a Lye. A Dungeon! heavens'!  Aph. 
Let me, Sir, be his Advocate. Thus low—  kneels. King. 
Aphelia on her knees! That posture Madam,  
From such a fair Petitioner's too humble  
When paid to Heaven. Commanding Lady rise,  
And be obeyed.  Aph. 
Great Sir, remember 'twas  
Your act of Grace that doomed me to this Lodging;  
A Lodging fit for an Inhabitant,  
So wrapped in Sorrows, and disguised in Tears,  
That any nobler roof would mock my Fortune.  
The darkness of the place becomes her Griefs  
That dwells in't.  King. 
Were you then brought here by my  
Command?  Aph. 
By your Command, Sir, and the Breath  
That gave that kind command, pronounced a Fate  
So glorious, that I am bound to honour  
My Sentencer; this melancholy place  
Agrees both with my wishes and misfortunes.  
You in this favour just and generous prove,  
So dark a scene befits a mourning Love.  King. 
If you affirm it Madam, what you say  
Is Oracle: 'Twas I that sent you hither.  
You came by my command into this Dungeon.  
But durst the Slave obey that breath that sent you?  
Away with him to th' Wrack, and let his tortures  
Be doubled. How, obey me Villain! Obedience  
To a command so barbarous and so monstrous,  
Deserves more than an enraged King can utter,  
Or torments act: What if you had been commanded  
To Whore your Sister, Stab your Father, Ravish  
Your Mother, Curse your God, or Kill your King?  
Dog, would you have obeyed and done all this?  
Away with him.  Aph. 
Stay Sir, remember 'twas  
His King commanded him; and had the deed  
He acted been a Crime, (as this was none,  
This was a blessing, and so great a blessing  
As on my Knees I would have begged from Heaven;)  
Yet sure your hand can't punish what your tongue  
Was Author of.  King. 
I Author of! why Madam,  
'Tis therefore that I punish him. I Author!  
I do not doubt it in the least.  
I was the only cause; I gave the Sentence;  
I ordered you this Lodging; and no wonder.  
Had I not made attempt to Ravish you?  
Had I not Killed my Brother? And do ye think  
Less than a Madman could commit such outrage;  
A Man all Rage, all Lunacy, all Devil?  
But this dull, sottish, ignorant Slave obeyed me.  
Obey me! are the looks  
And deeds of Kings no better understood?  
Be gone. His ignorance forfeits his Life.  
What could he have done more to merit death,  
Then to think Madmen ought to be obeyed?  
To Tortures.—  Aph. 
Hold! If I have any power—  King. 
If you have any Power— Power did you say?  
I'd quit my Kingdom, and turn Anchoret  
Or Pilgrim, if I thought that Heaven had more.  Aph. 
You are too kind. That little power I have  
Is in my Tears, let those Sir, beg his Life.  King. 
Is it your pleasure Madam, he should live?  Aph. 
Yes, & for what you're pleased to call a Crime,  
I think he merits a reward, not punishment.  King. 
You bid him live; live then, and live unpunished:  
Thank Her. But Slave, next let me hear you've ransacked  
A Temple, razed a Palace, burned a City;  
And if this Lady pardons you,— you Live.  
Your Pleasure is so absolute, your Power  
So uncontrollable, what you forgive  
So free from punishment, that your Mercy, Madam,  
Would shut up Hell, and make Damnation cease,  
Had you but half that Influence over Heaven  
You have o'er Me.  Aph. 
These shining Titles, Sir,  
Believe me, are too gay: But since you're pleased  
Thus to adorn me with these borrowed glories,  
I will pursue the Character you lend me,  
And beg a favour greater than his Life.  King. 
Fair Excellence, what is't?  Aph. 
My Death.  King. 
Your Death!  Aph. 
Is the Request so wonderful? My Lewis  
Is gone before. And do you think that Patience  
In Heaven's a greater Virtue than on Earth.  
When he was living, he'd have been distracted  
With half so long an absence from Aphelia.  
And do you think Heaven where the Sun and Stars  
Have kept one course so many thousand years,  
There where the Saints sing one Eternal song,  
Where Bliss without decrease has held so long,  
Can you think Heaven harbours Inconstancy?  
My Lewis, when he took his last farewell,  
Left all the world but me behind; he bore  
My Image with him to the skies, and there  
Expects the sad Original should follow.  
He is impatient, languishes, desires,  
And thinks compared to Love the Stars dim Fires,  
Think's he's but half in Heaven; in his blessed seat  
Wants Me to make his Paradise complete.  
I come, I come. Oh my most gracious King,  
By your command let my freed Soul take wing.  
He can't be blessed without me. And as you  
Gave him his Death, give him his Glory too.  
This Blessing you in Justice ought to grant:  
You made the Martyr, and now make the Saint.  King. 
Madam, is Love so barbarous, that it must  
Depend on Cruelty to make it constant?  
Does it delight in blood, that it requires  
A Mrs. Murder for a Lover's Monument?  
No, no; He'll be a Saint a milder way.  
Your pity makes him blessed without your Death.  
My happy Brother, happy in his Fall,  
Who dies deplored by fair Aphelia, was  
Your Slave; & Conquerors may their Slaves outlive.  
And though one of your Trophies is destroyed,  
Those eyes that made that shine as bright as ever,  
And can make more; of which see here the greatest.  
France at thy feet, tread on his Royalty.  [Kneels. 
Or if thy Nature knows not to forgive,  
(Which to believe were impious,) take this Sword  
T'appease the troubled Spirit of thy Love.  
I find a speaking pity in thy eyes,  
Which thence will drop upon thy gentle tongue,  
And cry, Live Clotair, my unhappy Loves  
Repenting Murderer live.  Aph. 
The Penitence  
Of Kings, would expiate a Nations sins:  
Sure then their own may be forgiven. His blood  
Heaven pardon you, for I do.  King. 
Then I'm pardoned.  
There cannot be an act you pass, but Heaven  
Will sign to. But dear Madam in this state  
Of Innocence, to which your Mercy has  
Restored me, let me offer up a heart  
To fair Aphelia for a Sacrifice:  
I am a full and perfect Convert now.  
Both Murderer and Ravisher repents:  
My heart grown Virtuous and unspotted, now  
Approaches you with Adoration, looks  
With piety on what it once profaned.  
Accept a Love, a Love so pure, so true,  
Nothing but You could raise, nothing but You  
Reward.  Aph. 
Hold Sir, You are my King; but though  
Things are exempt from Laws, their Crimes above  
Th'examining of Justice from a Jud●:  
Yet Kings may guilty stand at Love's Tribunal.  
I can condemn you, yet, great Sir, I do not.  
But though I do not, and his death I pardon,  
Honour, obey, and reverence a King  
I can, but Love I can't. My heart his Right,  
His Province I can never make a seat  
For any second Lord, much less his Murderer.  
They who forgive a Crime may not reward it.  King. 
Oh my hard fate! Oh more than cruel Woman,  
Is this to honour, reverence and obey  
A King, to scorn him? or can the requiting  
My Love, be the rewarding of my Crime?  
Oh Cruelty! Concerned so much for Blood  
I shed in my wild rage, and moved so little  
At Ruins you design, at deaths you give  
With a firm look, fixed and resolved to kill.  Enter Lewis and Nigrello to the door. Nigr. 
Stand here unseen, and you are safe.  Lew. 
The Plot  
That thou hast laid to try her constancy  
Is excellent.  Nigr. 
He's here; expect th'event of't.  Enter Bourbon in haste. Bourbon. 
Forgive my hasty rudeness, for my Cause  
Requires it; Sir, the City's up in Arms,  
Your Subjects in Rebellion, and their sury  
Seems by Revenge inspired: Revenge they cry.  
Their Rage is grounded on your Brother's Death.  
And they're resolved as the Incendiary  
Of his destruction, t'have Aphelia's blood.  Lew. 
As I could wish.  Bourbon. 
Great Sir, bethink yourself.  King. 
Aphelias' blood!  
The common Multitude advance their Arms  
Against her sacred Head. Oh Hellish outrage!  
The Giants when they besieged Heaven, attempted  
To Dethrone jupiter with less impiety.  
Her Blood!  Enter in haste a second Gentleman. Second Gent. 
Great Sir, your frighted Guards o're-pow'rd,  
Your Palace they have entered, and resolve  
To lay it level with the ground, if what  
Their loud and barbarous rage calls Justice, this  
Fair Lady's Life do not appease their fury.  King. 
Her Life t'appease 'em! By that Life they ask,  
Her precious Life, the Sacred'st Oath  
That I can swear, their Insolence has damned 'em.  
Go instantly and tell the Rebels I  
Am her Protector, and she shall not die.  Aph. 
Hold gracious Sir, revoke that harsh decree.  
Tell 'em I am their Martyr, and my Death—  King. 
Be gone, and say as I command you, haste.  Aph. 
Oh no Sir, say that I'll submit and die.  
Consider but what dangers you will shun;  
Think how much blood you'll by my Sentence spare,  
And can you be so cruel, when the opening  
Of one poor Virgins veins, that hates her Life,  
And begs her Death, repairs a Kingdom's health.  Lew. 
Oh my best Angel! Oh my full-blown joys!  [Aside. King. 
You cruel Woman, how can you request  
That which your eyes forbid. Whilst I gaze there,  
And feel that Love their Light inspires, I'd see  
My Empire set on float, and France lie deeper  
In humane gore, then ere the Deluge laid  
The sunk Foundations of the drowning World,  
ere I'd behold one drop of yours let out.  Aph. 
Oh you forget yourself. What Mariner  
Would not throw overboard a worthless Fraight  
T'avoid a Shipwreck?  King. 
But what Fool or Madman  
Would throw away his Wealth, his Life, his Soul,  
His Heaven t'avoid that storm his courage scorns?  
Tell the bold Rebels I'm in person here,  
And as I know Rebellion shrinks at nothing,  
I'll satisfy their rage a nobler way:  
That blow their Impious hands dare aim at hers,  
I through my Breast will intercept: their King,  
Their Victim, sure th'Impetuous tide will stop.  
Go then, and do as I command.  Aph. 
No, stay.—  
Kings are not safe in raging Crowds; their fury  
May Murder you.  King. 
What then, what if they do?  
What can the Man you hate be worth the saying?  Aph. 
Sir, though I cannot Love, yet my Allegiance  
Will never let me see my Sovereign bleed.  
The sacred Blood of Kings—  King. 
The Blood of Kings:  
A toy, a trifle; do you understand  
Your power so little to esteem his Life,  
You scorn, worthy your care. You wrong yourself  
To cast a thought on such an abject thing  
As a poor hated Lover, though a King.  
Dull Sir, be gone—  Aph. 
No kind Sir, stay.— Dread Lord,  
Rebellion is a thing too terrible  
For a soft Virgin's ears, especially  
When she is the occasion, Great Sir, say  
What is't I would not do to save your Life,  
And to divert my threatened Country's danger:  
I am all Duty when those are at stake,  
And all Obedience.  King. 
And do I command?  Lew. 
Oh my wracked Patience! Oh my blasted hopes!  
Curse on my Plot: Is this her Constancy?  [Aside. King. 
Oh my large hopes! How high methinks I rise;  
How big methinks I grow. What Empires, nay  
What Worlds has this Commission made me Lord of.  
Fair Creature, must I then assume that part  
The Gods should only act, inspire your will,  
And teach you how t'obey?  Aph. 
Your humblest Slave  
Submits, her Fate should wait upon your pleasure.  Lew. 
I am all torture.  King. 
In my Name, command  
Our Marshal, and our other Officers  
Of State, to give this Answer to the Rebels.  
Aphelia I have made my Queen; and an  
Affront done to her Sacred Person, drew  
That rage from me that took my Brother's Life.  
Yet 'twas no more than what our Laws for his  
Offence would have required; howe'er I'm sorry  
They've lost a Favourite, and I a Brother.  
Bid 'em lay down their Arms, and with their pardon  
Pronounce 'em free from all the Impositions,  
Duties and Taxes due to th' Crown of France  
For three whole years.  Lew. 
Cursed instrument of Hell.  [Aside. King. 
Which Act of Grace, say, was their Queen's request.  [Exeunt Bourbon, and the other Gentleman. 
Now to the Temple to confirm my Bliss.  
Madam—  Aph. 
Sir, I attend you.  King. 
Then lead on.  Aph. 
Now in one act  
I'll serve my King, my Country, and my Love.  
Mistaken Prince, I to the Temple go  
Not to be made thy Queen, but Sacrifice.  
Forgive me Heaven, for 'tis a just disguise  
Which does from Love, and from Allegiance spring.  
It is my Loyalty that Cheats my King.  Aside. Lewis undiscovers, and comes in to them. Lew. 
I can hold no longer.  King. 
Lewis alive!  Nigr. 
The Queen, She faints.  Aph. faints. Lew. 
Still let her sleep, sleep on:  
For if she wakes, she will appear too monstrous  
An object for frail eyes to see & keep their senses.  
Oh that in Nature there were left an art  
Could teach me to forget I ever loved  
This her great Masterpiece. Oh well built Frame,  
Why dost thou harbour such unhallowed Guests?  
If that our Vows are Registered in Heaven,  
Why are they broke on Earth, unkind Aphelia.  
Oh I run mad.  King. 
Rule your disordered Tongue  
Lewis, what's past I am content to think  
It was our Brother spoke, and not our Subject.  Lew. 
I had forgot myself, yet well remember  
That Gorgon has transformed me into Stone.  
And since that time my Language has been harsh,  
My words too heavy for my tongue, too Earthly.  
I was not Born so Sir: When She was just,  
My thoughts and language bore a fairer stamp;  
But now she's a Disease, that turns my Blood,  
And makes my veins run poison, that each sense  
Groans at the alteration.  King. 
You've done ill,  
And must be taught so: You capitulate  
Not with your Equal: She's your Queen.  Lew. 
My Queen!  Aph. 
My Lewis living!  Lew. 
Yes, he lives to see  
You Perjured.  King. 
Perjured. By the Gods, for such  
A Blasphemy, thy forfeit life and soul—  
But 'tis our Wedding-day, and you've our Pardon.  
Recovered by your care.  [To Nigr. Nigr. 
The wound you gave him proved not mortal; but  
I'm sorry that I brought him hither so  
Unluckily to interrupt you.  King. 
No.  
You have done well. I'm glad of his Recovery  
For my murmuring Kingdoms sake, and for my own  
I'm glad to see him here, to envy at  
My Bliss, and see his Mrs. share my Crown.  
Come my fair Innocence.  Aph. 
Stay Royal Sir,  [Kneels. 
And grant your pardon here, 'tis I that want it.  King. 
How Madam?  Aph. 
I have wronged you.  King. 
Wronged me?  Aph. 
Yes,  
I promised to attend you to the Temple;  
But my design of going thither, was  
Not to be Clotairs Queen, but Lewis' Martyr.  King. 
Go on.  Lew. 
Go on.  Aph. 
But I'm a Loyal Cous'ner:  
I feared the Tumults that demanded mine,  
Might in blind Rage assault your sacred Life;  
And since no otherwise you'd calm their fury,  
My kind submission was but a design  
T'appease a Kingdom, and preserve a King.  
Which when I had performed, their Arms laid down,  
And all your danger gone, I was resolved  
Before the Priest, the Altar, and that bright  
High Presence they attend on, to refuse  
A Crown, and beg a death; and with that death  
Your Princely pardon that I durst not cancel  
Recor'ds in Heaven, my Love, and Vows to Lewis.  Lew. 
Oh my Blessed Saint.  King. 
Saint; Devil! Woman-Devil!  
Oh I'm distracted; I'm thy own Aphelia;  
Thou hast inspired me, and I by thy example  
Can be as great a fury as thou art.  
And to begin that Cruelty thou hast taught me  
Here.  Calls in his Guards. 
Seize her, and convey her, where the light  
May be as great a stranger to her Eyes,  
As is my Passion to her Soul; that Sun  [To the Capt. of the Guards, who seizes her. 
Which She once sees again, thou seest no more.  
Away.  Lew. 
Hold barbarous King, can your wild rage  
Be so inhuman?  King. 
Hold: What man art thou  
That darest with impious hands seize on that Beauty.  To the Capt. of the Guards 
Forbear; was ever Violence so profane  
To touch a thing so much Divine?  Capt. 
of the Guards. Great Sir.—  King. 
Cut off his hold  [He lets her go. 
Ha! 'tis the fair Aphelia—  
The fair Aphelia?— No, the false Aphelia;  
The falsest of her Sex, the Cruelest  
That e'er had Eyes to Charm, and Scorn to kill.  
Seize her again; I did forget myself:  
Her Treachery and Cruelty have banished  
All that was Sacred in her: She's no Saint now;  
All her Divinity's expired; she's turned  
A Monster, as deformed, as changed, and black  
As Angels when they fell. Away with her.  Lew. 
Hold your rude hands, & take my Life before she goes.  Offers to draw upon the Guards, who disarm him. Aph. 
Lewis farewell. To Love and Life farewell.  
The worst that I can suffer, is but death;  
Which if I do—  
Know at that hour, when I my Life resign,  
My Blood's his Sacrifice, but my Heart thine.  [Exit Guarded. Lew. 
Stay bloody Dogs.  King. 
Thou'rt a rash Fool to struggle, for a Beauty  
Must be a Queen or nothing. Twixt extremes  
In common things there is a Mean, as Light  
And Darkness; there's a Dawn 'twixt Day and Night.  
But such bright forms no middle course can have,  
She rises to a Throne, or sinks t'a Grave.  Exit. Lew. 
I'll follow him, and brave the Tyrant's rage.  Nigr. 
Stay, for her Safety, I'll my Life engage.  
Be calm, and you're secure.  Lew. 
You saved my Life:  
And I'll entrust you with defending hers.  
Thus far I'm blessed. I've heard with how much Zeal,  
In constancy to Me, She scorned a King;  
And when my Hirelings made that false Alarm,  
How freely her demanded head she offered,  
And chose the Temple for the place to publish  
Her scorn of Life and Crowns in Love to Me.  
And for my Brother's rage, I'll not be troubled:  
Let Love Despair, and all things else conspire;  
What though he be a King, no power's so great,  
But what force cannot shake, Art may defeat:  
As subtle Enemies, high towers assail,  
They undermine what is too high to scale.  Exevent.   

ACT the Fourth.  

Scene the First.  Enter Nigrello. Nigr. 
CUrse on this whining Passion! Th'amourous King  
Minds Love so much, that he forgets his Honour.  
Aphelias' Charms have so possessed his thoughts,  
That all things else lie by. I have as good  
As called him Bastard, and his Mother Whore:  
Yet Clarmount wears his head. All other interests  
Neglected lie, where Sovereign Woman reigns.  
I scorn so tardy a Revenge, I'll keep  
My rage awake, though thine, dull King, can sleep.  Enter Fredigond. Queen. 
Mischief grows lean, Nigrello, all my plots  
Turn head upon themselves.  Nigr. 
'Tis very strange,  
Your Bedchamber take fire, ●th'very minute  
Of pleasure and security. For certain  
Some subtle Devil crosses your designs.  Queen. 
Subtle! No, I'll swear for him, none oth'subtlest;  
For by this light, I outwitted him and all  
His politics. With what majestic grace  
Did the old reverend Goblin stalk away,  
Whilst th'amazed King, and his stouthearted train  
Turned pale, and looked as ghastly at the sight  
As I've seen Brutus picture look in Tapestry,  
Staring on Caesar's Ghost. Was not the escape  
Of Clarmount, in my Husband's shape most excellent.  Nigr. 
Yes Madam, it was lucky. But what Guard  
Do you design against all future dangers?  
What next do you resolve on?  Queen. 
My dull Ethiope,  
I will instruct thy blackness: Learn to know  
My Reputation's sickened, and my Fame  
Is looked into with narrow eyes at Court.  
Therefore it's thus decreed, I will remove  
And sequester myself from Company.  Nigr. 
Good.  Queen. 
Thou know'st where Childrick oftentimes retired,  
When fits of piety (rest his soul)  
Took him with ' head.  Nigr. 
Madam, I know the place.  Queen. 
There I and Clarmount will securely meet:  
The Cave that leads to th'Postern-Gate  
Will give him entiance at all hours unseen.  Nigr. 
Madam, your Wit's as glorious as your Love.  Queen. 
I will away to Night. I cannot brook  
My Frantic Sons wild passion for Aphelia:  
If (as I fear he will) he Marrys her,  
He has undone my hopes on Earth for ever.  
Therefore Nigrello, let my Clarmount be  
Acquainted with our new designs.  Nigr. 
What else?  Queen. 
If by the conduct of thy subtle brain  
Thou couldst remove—  Nigr. 
Aphelia, or the King,  
The Prince, or all: is it not so?  Queen. 
Thou hast a Wit which does engender thoughts  
As Regal as our own: when Fate blows fair,  
Set out, and prosper. In a brave design,  
I wish no better head nor hand then thine.  
Farewell. Remember Me.  Exit. Nigr. 
You shall be thought on, fear it not; but how?  
Should I prevent her Lust this second time,  
Before the third she may repent, and so  
May save her Soul which my Revenge would damn:  
Yet I'll prevent her, and contrive it so  
She shan't repent, nor shall Hell lose a Subject.  
Thou, and thy Tyrant Son shall meet one Fate,  
But I'll begin with you— In Reverence  
To Age, thou Beldame as the elder Sinner,  
I will take care shalt be the elder Devil.  Enter Lewis and Lamot disguised. Lam. 
Where shall we meet you.  Lew. 
Here. I'll wait your coming:  
Expect me here.  Exit Lamot. Nigrello, are we safe? Nigr. 
Safe Sir, and private.  Lew. 
I am glad I've found thee:  
I've business to impart.  Nigr. 
And so have I.  Lew. 
Mine is of honourable consequence,  
And does require thy aid.  Nigr. 
So does mine yours.  Lew. 
My fair Aphelia is—  Nigr. 
Your Brother's Prisoner.  
What then: His Wife she ne'er shall be.  Lew. 
But say  
His Lust should seize her Honour, or his Rage  
Her Life; Tyrant and Ravisher are names  
He has been too well acquainted with already,  
Suppose Aphelia meets Clotild as fate.  Nigr. 
Suppose you dead, and me asleep; whilst you  
Are living, and I waking, 'tis impossible.  Lew. 
Thy Courage I adore. Lead on Commander,  
I'll follow and obey.  Nigr. 
Then take this path,  
And Conquer. First you know he loves her Virtue;  
Dotes on her to Distraction; not because  
She's only Fair, but Chast. Her beauteous mind,  
And her fair form within makes her his Saint,  
His Heaven, and whate'er names th'Idolatry  
Of Love can give her. Then to take away  
That adoration, you must first displace  
The Saint, leave the Shrine empty, and remove  
That Virtue, and that Chastity he dotes on.  Lew. 
Bless me; where will this end?  Nigr. 
She must be Strumpeted.  Lew. 
Death and destruction, what a word was that?  Nigr. 
Hold Sir, do not mistake: 'tis a hard word,  
But I've no time for Eloquence; She must  
Appear, not be that Creature. His wild Frenzy  
Must have a desperate Cure. He must be told,  
And be by Circumstance convinced, She's Loose,  
Dishonest, and Unchaste.  Lew. 
A strange foundation.  Nigr. 
But 'tis a sure one.  Lew. 
But Nigrello, say,  
Where shall we lay the Scene: Unchaste with whom?  Nigr. 
Sir, if you'll trust my choice, let it be Clarmount.  
He is a Villain, and the imputation  
(Suppose your Jealous Brother takes his head for't)  
Will do but Justice.  Lew. 
Well: Grant him the Man.  Nigr. 
You have some of Aphelias' Letters by you?  Lew. 
Yes.  Nigr. 
What if you forged her hand, and in her name  
Wrote Love from her to Clarmount? And to prove it,  
Put in some hints of a lost Maidenhead,  
Larded with some big words, such as stolen pleasures,  
Embraces, or Enjoyment, or what else  
You shall think fit.  Lew. 
Her Lover, and betray her!  
Nigrello, for thy friendship, take my thanks:  
The Treason I'd embrace▪ but be the Traitor—  Nigr. 
But can you yield to see her Ravished, Murdered,  
Or what's worse, Married; Married to your Brother?  
That Traitor you must be, or one of these  
Is certainly her fate.  Lew. 
Is there no way?  Nigr. 
None Sir, but this: and if her Safety, or  
Your Love be worth your Care, resolve.  Lew. 
I'll do't.  
●Tiwxt Love and Honour, Interest ends the strife,  
I'll prostitute her Fame to save her Life.  Nigr. 
Now you resolve, you shall not; your consent  
Shall be enough; the labour shall be mine.  
And that the story may not seem a cheat,  
Or a design of yours by me to serve her,  
I will appear her Friend so little, that  
If he designs to punish her Unchastity,  
I'll aggravate her Guilt, and spur him on  
To Justice; but take care he ne'er shall act it.  
I'll raise the Thunder, but divert the blow.  Lew. 
What debts must I for so much kindness owe?  Nigr. 
You too must put on the disguise of hate;  
Seem satisfied she's false, and slight and scorn her.  
All Rivalship between you being once ceased,  
At news of the Rebellion set on foot,  
He will raise Arms to check it, and no doubt  
You being the fittest object in his Kingdom,  
As you may manage it, make you their Leader.  Lew. 
Let me embrace thee; this is a design  
Has shot life through me.  Nigr. 
By this means you may  
Convert the Tyrant's Sword to his own Ruin▪  
Instead of your suppressing the Confederates,  
Join his own Army to assist their Cause.  Lew. 
I am satisfied, an am resolved to study  
All arts and means for my Revenge. Revenge  
Can't be too fierce moved by so just a cause:  
An Injured Mistress, and a Murdered Father.  Nigr. 
Since your mind's bent on honourable ends,  
I have one more will try you.  Lew. 
Name it then.  Nigr. 
Your Mother stoops to actions that abhor  
The Light, and this Night meets, if not prevented—  Lew. 
My soul finds out the Man, is it not Clarmount?  Nigr. 
The same.  Lew. 
Are Palaces such Scenes of Villainy?  
Had not the Court enough of Hell before in't.  
Conduct me where I may but seize this Monster,  
That his stained blood—  Enter Bourbon, Lamot, Dumane, and Brisac. Nigr. 
Change your discourse and looks:  
Your Friends attend you.  Lew. 
Gentlemen, you're welcome.  
My almost Brother once, I thank you,  To Brisack. 
And kindly greet this brave Assembly, whose  
Great spirits look for stirring Opposites:  
But there your expectation will be lost,  
For I'll take care your danger shall be small,  
And your resistance slender. Sirs, your pardon;  
I've business of Importance with Bris●●  
That robs me of your company some minutes,  
But I'l● repair that loss at our next meeting:  
But take this in my stead. I'll share your Cause.  Lam. 
Our Lives and Fortune's Sir, lie at your feet.  Exit Lewis and Brisac. Bourbon. 
Are your men bold and daring; resolute  
To run your fate; indifferent Rich, not Poor  
That only fight for Bread; such oft betray  
The sinews of a wellknit plot for gain,  
When these fight as well to defend as win  Dum 
Mine know nor fear, nor death, souls of that fire  
They'll catch a Bullet flying, scale a Wall  
Batt'led with Enemies, stand breaches, laugh at  
The thunder of the Canon; call it Music,  
Fitter a Lady's Chamber than the Field.  
When o'er their heads the Element is Seeled;  
Darkend with Darts, they'll fight under the shades,  
And ask no other Roof to hide their heads in;  
They fear not Jove, and had the Giants been  
But half so spirited, they had Dethroned him.  
Such are the Men I lead.  Burb. 
Well kind Dumane,  
I see they want no Herald that have got  
Your Friendship.  Dum 
Sir, I speak 'em as I love 'em.  Lam. 
In good old Childricks reign, before his Queen  
Had taught him Revels, and untaught him War,  
Before her wanton Lust had sheathed his Sword,  
To give her treacherous Poison, power of death;  
I knew that they had valour, and a cause  
To show it in. Nor has the rust of Peace  
Blunted their edge; they are as fierce as ever.  Burb. 
They're Soldiers fit to Sack a Kingdom then—  Dum 
And share the spoil.  Burb. 
Were't come to that sport once.—  Lam. 
Bourbon it must, or some of us must fall.  
The Ulcerous State is ripe, and we must lance it.  Exeunt.  

Scene the Second. The Scene a Room of State.  Enter Aphelia. Aph. 
I am a Prisoner still. But why so fair  
A Prison, and so kind an entertainment,  
After he had pronounced so harsh a doom,  
I cannot guests the cause, unless it spring  
From the Conversion of my cruel King:  
If that's the cause, as ye kind powers, I hope 'tis—  Enter Nigrello. Nigr. 
Now for my disguise:  
This Lodging, and this Entertainme●t's my design:  Aside. 
The King I have persuaded to this mildness,  
As the more easy way to win her heart  
Then Cruelty. But on the same foundation  
I seem to raise his hopes, I've built his ruin.  Aph. 
What readest thou in the Book of Fate Nigrello?  
What is heavens' pleasure?  
Quick, make haste and crown  
My hopes, speak, thou canst read  
The Language of my Stars, the will of Destiny●  
For thou canst tell how looks my angry King.  Nigr. 
Madam, he's now a King indeed, no more  
Your Tyrant, witness his strange Reformation  
Now Madam he intends to make you happy  
In giving, not accepting of your heart.  
This milder usage he designs a Prologue  
This vanquished passion, and your altered 〈◊〉  
The Generous, the Good, the Courteous 〈◊〉  
Has been so much your Friend.—  Aph. 
Clarmount, my Friend▪  Nigr. 
Your Influence is so great, that this kind man  
Has used such force, spoke such convincing reason,  
That the Converted King adores your Faith,  
Charmed with your constancy, resolves to cherish it.  Aph. 
Can I believe my Ears?  Nigr. 
If you belief  
So tardy be, stay till your Eyes confirm it:  
And when your generous King gives your fair hand  
To Lewis, call your Slave your Oracle.  Aph. 
What ecstasy dost thou inspire? But Clarmou●,  
Was he the King's Converter? his strange power  
Both in the Kings and People's hearts I've heard of:  
But his strange kindness in my Cause is wondrous.  Nigr. 
No doubt the Prince may have engaged him in't.  
But whatever motive led him on,  
It was a bold and brave attempt  
T'oppose the passion of a raging King.  Aph. 
What Recompense does so much kindness merit?  Nigr. 
No more than you can pay: Send him your thanks,  
And the Debts canceled.  Aph. 
Yes, by thee I'll send'em.  
Tell him from me, how high a sense, what value—  Nigr. 
Madam, my Will exceeds my Power to serve you.  
I doubt my little Eloquence so much,  
That you'd oblige your humble Slave, to trust  
Your nobler thoughts to Paper.  Aph. 
Who waits there?  Enter Attendant. 
Bring Pen and Paper.  Exit Attendant, and brings in Pen, Ink, and paper, and Aphelia sits down and writes. Nigr. 
I have my wish, A Letter does the business.  [Aside. Enter Brisac. 
Noble Brisac.  Bris. 
How fares our mourning Sister?  Nigr. 
Hist: I have worked her up ● to a belief  
Of Clarmounts Friendship, and the King's conversion:  
And you are come●th happy minute to  
Confirm her in't.  Brif. 
The King has sent me hither  
To Court my Sister for him. But the Laws  
Of Friendship and of Nature ought to be  
Obeyed before th'unjust commands of Kings.  
His Love is Tyranny, an Invasion of  
What Vows & Oaths the Seals of Heaven have made  
His Brother's right. The serving of my Friend  
And Sister then, is a design so just,  
That all the Cheats I use, and shapes I take,  
Are pardoned for their glorious cause sake:  
Moved by the ties of Friendship and of Blood,  
The means are lawful where the end's so good.  Aph. 
Oh my dear Brother, welcome. Kind Nigrello  
Tells me my miseries draw near an end;  
The King's no more my Lover, but my Friend.  Bris. 
If his wild Love's Conversion, is so great,  
What's his Devotion then, that makes the Proselyte?  
How great is the obliging Clarmounts Friendship?  Aph. 
How great I think it is, read there, and see.  Bris. 
Reads the Letter.  
My Lord,  
My Transports of joy have been such, as your favours merited: when I consider the furious Love of a Tempestuous King, I cannot but reflect on the danger of your kindness in wrestling with that Love, and the glory of it in subduing it. Pursue the generous Friendship that has been so well begun, and take into the number of your Admirers the humblest of your Servants.  
Aphelia.  
'Tis well; his worth too high you cannot raise:  
The first reward of all good deeds is praise.  She fits down and Seals the Letter. Nigr. 
Those lines with some addition of my own  
Shall make all my design secure. I'll drive  
The cheat on with such Impudence and courage,  
That all his furious rage shall not deter me,  
Nor all his arts disprove me.  [Gives him the Letter. Aph. 
Here Nigrello.  Nigr. 
I'll fly to serve you; but before I go,  
I ought to tell you that the King intends  
To visit you; and though he comes to take  
His last farewell to Love, yet you must think  
Lovers quit Ladies just as Garrisons  
Surrender; in their fall their Pride's so great,  
They willingly would have their yielding look,  
As little as it can like a defeat.  
The King, no doubt, though in his vanquished passion,  
Will make some Love; say some kind amorous things;  
And if you'll take my Council, let your Answers  
Be mild and gentle.  Exit Nigrello. Bris. 
The advice is good,  
And you'll oblige yourself if you pursue it.  
'Tis a vain glory that attends a Lover,  
Never to say he quits; and when Hope dies,  
The Gallantry of Love still lives, is charmed  
With kindness but in shadow; takes delight  
Even in its being deceived. Love's th'only passion  
Takes pleasure to be flattered in despair.  Aph. 
Can a feigned look, or a dissembled smile  
Oblige so good, so generous a King.  
Such Treachery I scorn; no, he deserves  
A nobler usage. His resigning me  
To Lewis, has so charmed me, that I cannot  
Pay him too much. My Friendship, Kindness; all  
The faculties of my Soul (but what my Vows  
To Heaven and Lewis do except) are his.  
Come glorious Lover, storm an easy Breast,  
Take all my heart has liberty to part with.  
This brave refigning me, has gained such pow'r,  
Lewis had ne'er a Rival till this hour.  Bris. 
Madam, I see him coming; take no notice  
Either of our discourse or his conversion.  
'Tis more than I dare answer: it anticipates  
The Gallantry, and the surprise of great  
Designs, to have 'em told ere they are acted.  Enter King. King. 
What Vulture gripes me here? Ha, what art thou?  
If thou be'st so Jealousy, mount and be gone:  
Fly to the vulgar bosom, whose cheap thoughts  
Despair their own performance; in a King  
Thou showest a Nature retrograde to Honour.  
Suppose She Loves, and has vowed constancy  
To Lewis, must it follow that her heart  
Cannot be moved? 'Tis but my fears that say so.  
I'll boldly on, and tire her till she yield.  
Is She not fair? Beauty's a spark of Heaven,  
And all that's Heavenly may be moved, 'tis only  
Th'Infernal powers that are inexorable.  
What brow wears our fair Tyrant? Is a Brother  To Bris. 
More powerful than a King? Does the unmoved  
Admit thy Mediation in my Cause,  
Or am I still that unshaped thing, whose name  
Has terror in't. Does still each sound, that breathes  
My hated name, strike horror through her veins;  
And shake that Seat where my proud Brother reigns.  Bris. 
I found her not so cruel as I wished her;  
The Conquest was so easy, that my pains  
In serving you, were less than I desired.  King. 
The Conquest? How, what say you?  Bris. 
Sir, the Cloud  
That hindered her the prospect of her bliss  
Is gone; the power of Majesty and Love  
Has the long mist dispel'd: She is restored  
To sense and reason.  King. 
Is Aphelia kind?  Bris. 
Yes, to herself: She understands the Love  
Of Kings; and why she understood no sooner,  
She does confess her senses have been more  
Dazzled then darkened.  King. 
My kind Advocate.  
Oh that I had a Sister for thy sake,  
As Cruel, and if possible, as fair,  
That I might pay thee back this kindness.  
They Madam, who Divinitys approach,  [To her. 
Seek out for prosperous hours to breathe their Vows in:  
Which attribute of Heaven Divine Aphelia  
Mercy or Justice is the mighty work  
Of this days fate? Have you marked out this hour  
For lending ear to your Adorers Prayers,  
Or forming Thunder for Offenders crimes.  Aph. 
If there is any thing Divine or Sacred  
Lodged in this Breast, 'tis Royal Sir, your Creature.  
For this poor humble roof, cannot be built  
For such a Guest, unless you're pleased to raise it;  
And if you'd have me Sainted, you of all men  
Should have lest cause to ask how I'm inclined:  
Who makes the Saint, may well expect it kind.  King. 
I am transported. If this sudden kindness  
Be truth, 'tis Miracle.  Bris. 
If it be false,  
Punish her Treason on her Brother's heart.  
By my Allegiance, and my hopes of Bliss,  
She entertains no wish nor thought t'abuse you.  King. 
This Language speaks thee fair Aphelias' Brother:  
Thy Breath else could not be so near allied  
To hers, to carry so much charm, such Heaven in't.  
They Madam, who would mighty Structures raise,  [To her. 
Search the Foundation first, on which they build.  
The highest flight of my Ambition is  
To know my power in fair Aphelias heart.  Enter Nigrello. Aph. 
Your power in that you shall distrust no more.  
'Tis all that Loyalty and Gratitude  
Can make it; my Prophetic thoughts have told me  
You will be kind; and as my Sovereign ought  
To have disposal of your Vassals Fates.  
And that high Fate you have marked out for me  
I doubt not will be welcome, great, and glorious.  
And as I'm satisfied 'twill be all these,  
Great Sir, t'obey you, shall not only be  
My duty, but my hopes.  Bris. 
How prettily  
They drive on the mistake.  Nigr. 
The plot works rarely.  Bris. 
But stop 'em ere it goes too far.  Nigr. 
Great Sir,  
I've something for your Ear.  King. 
Another time.  Nigr. 
None but this minute will suffice. Your safety  
And honour are cocerned.  King. 
And what of them?  
Be quick, I'm too full of thought to talk.  Nigr. 
My story is so fiery, that it must  
Move slow; for if it should break out too fiercely,  
It will do Violence to your Ear, disturb,  
If not displease you.  King. 
But it shall not. I've but  
Just now received the promise of her heart;  
And do you think it lies in Fortune's power  
To shake my quiet at so blessed an hour:  
Out with it, speak the worst thou hast to say,  
My Joys too great t'admit of an allay.  Bris. 
Let us withdraw; perhaps they would be private.  Exeunt Brisac and Aphelia. Nigr. 
But shall I have your pardon?  King. 
Yes, dispatch then.  Nigr. 
Your Mistrerss is not—  King. 
What?  Nigr. 
Not Chast.  King. 
Not chaste?  
Hadst thou ten thousand lives, not one of them  
Should scape my Justice for so damned a lie.  Nigr. 
You promised me my pardon.  King. 
How! thy pardon?  
I would not give't my Father; no, not his Ghost:  
Should but his shadow from his Grave rise up  
To speak but one such word, for the Impiety  
I'd burn the Temple where his Ashes sleep,  
And raze his Tomb to be revenged on's dust for't.  
But now I think on't thou shalt live for tortures;  
I know there must be greater heads than thine  
In this Conspiracy; which I'll wrack from thee:  
Then my Revenge I'll take when 'twill be glorious:  
Less than a Massacre▪ would be too mean  
A Sacrifice t' Aphelias' injured Honour.  Nigr. 
That trouble shall be saved; I doubt not, Sir,  
But you'll believe me e'er i've done.  King. 
Believe thee Slave! I'd not believe an Angel;  
Should a Messenger from Heaven bring me this News,  
I would turn Atheist to affront him for't.  Nigrello gives him Aphelias' Letter. 
What's this, a Letter to Clarmount.  [Reads. 
My Lord,  
My transports of joy have been such as your Favours merited. When I consider the furious Love of a Tempestuous King; I cannot but reflect on the danger of your kindness in wrestling with that Love, and the glory of it in subduing it. Pursue that generous friendship that has been so well begun, and take into the number of your Admirers the humblest of your Servants.  
Aphelia.  
The danger of his kindness in wrestling with my Love, and his glory in subduing it—  
That Friendship which has been so well begun— than it seems  
He's a more powerful Rival than his King.  
Something a loving stile; stay, here's a Postcript.  
When I am Married, and a Queen, our stolen pleasures will be more difficult, but shall not be less desired, nor less grateful to yours still  Aphelia. Reads. 
What pretty sorgery is this?  
Betray her Virgin-honour! make stolen meetings!  
Aphelia Clarmounts Whore?  Nigr. 
Oh no Sir:  
The World has found a gentler name, his Mrs.  
I see Sir you are startled; cease your wonder.  
Is she not fair; and in this loving Age  
A little Gallantry's a Venial sin.  King. 
Slave, do you sport with me? confess who forged  
This Blasphemy. For'tis no more her writing  
Then thou'rt a Saint.  Nigr. 
'Tis hers; I saw her write it,  
And when she had done, she gave't me to deliver.  
But Curiosity made me so rude  
To break it open; which when I had read,  
My Loyalty made me present it here  
To save your honour from a Sirens charms,  
And guard my Prince from a loose Wantons arms.  King. 
Thou liest; there's not one word on't hers. Has Lewis  
Corrupted thy fideliry? I suspect  
It is his plot, but I will force the secret  
From thy black soul, or tear thy heartstrings out.  Nigr. 
I'm not Suborned: That Letter is Aphelias;  
She wrote it, and I'll prove it. I confess  
She's Beautiful; but what though she be fair,  
Must that conclude she's honest?  King. 
Hold thy Athestick tongue: Or speak, and die.  Nigr. 
Great Sir—  King. 
Peace Slave, thou that infect'st all Peace.  Nigr. 
Why are you thus distempered; let not truth  
Make you so wild a Tempest. Were it false,  
Or that I sought the ruin of your Peace,  
Your Youth, or Honour, than it were a time  
To swell to this extravagance of passion:  
But being truth—  King. 
Truth, Dog, avoid my sight:  
Fly where the ruder world, ill versed in Kindred,  
Promiscuously combines without distinction:  
Where every Man is every Woman's Husband.  
These are a People that might bear with thee,  
And fit for thee to dwell with.  Nigr. 
Yes Royal Sir, I'm gone; but th'only way  
For me t'avoid your sight, must be to die.  
Nothing but death can separate your Slave,  
Your loyal faithful Slave, from his loved Lord,  
His honoured and adored Lord: But if death's  
My doom, pray let your humble Vassal beg  [Kneels. 
An honourable death. Sir, from your hand  
Let it in glory come; that death which I  
Deserve, when my great Master thinks me false.  
But e'er you give me honour, right your own  [Rises. 
Sir, if I do not prove  
All I have said, send my black soul to Hell:  
Damnation for abusing Majesty  
Is a just due, Hers, and your wrongs demand.  King. 
Leave off your Protestations; can her Fame  
Be questioned, or disputed?  Nigr. 
Not by one,  
Who is all passion, but by Reason—  King. 
Then  
Let Reason be the judge: I'll show it her.  Nigr. 
Do Sir.— But hold. She's not so impudent in sin to own  
So foul a Paper. If she should disown it  
(As, if you show it her, no doubt she will)  
You've but my word for't. Then for better proof,  
Let her be sent for, and at her approach,  
Do you retire unseen, to overhear us:  
The first thing that I'm certain she will ask me,  
Will be about that Letter; the discourse  
Between us, will convince you that she sent it,  
And make perhaps more large discoveries  
Of her false heart than this has power to do.  King. 
It is impossible; her Character  
Gives this black scroll the lie. She cannot be  
That Monster which this Letter represents her.  
Were she Unchaste, why then did she refuse  
A proffered Crown? I offered Marriage to her;  
And Marriage, that's the veil to Unchastity  
You see she shunned. Did she not choose her death  
Before my Love? Were she in league with Clarmount,  
Why would she for my Brother's Love have died?  
Were all this truth, where's all her Vows to Lewis,  
Her scorn of Life, and her desire of Heaven  
To meet him there?  Nigr. 
Where are they? where they should be.  
In the smooth tongue and oyley words of subtle  
Woman. Where are they! why Sir, can't you guests?  
Is the pretence of Constancy and Honour  
Such news in Woman kind? Did not you love her.  
And courted by a King, could she do less,  
Were she a Devil, then appear an Angel?  
She had promised Marriage to your Brother. But  
Must you conclude her chaste for courting Death  
To follow him? what a strange, bold request  
Was it to beg her Death from him she knew  
Loved her too well to grant it her? The favour  
She asked, she ne'er expected to obtain.  King. 
How's this?  Nigr. 
And for the conduct of her Love to Lewis,  
Examine it, and where's her mighty Faith;  
She'd hate you as his Murderer, and Love  
Her Murdered Lovers memory; She'd choose  
To be his Sacrifice, before your Queen.  
'T was a brave Character, and she pursued it:  
But search its depth, 'twas Interest, an Artifice  
To heighten your esteem of her. How common  
Is it to make a Conquest difficult  
To raise the value on't. For after all,  
She's not invincible, nor he so powerful,  
But she could yield at last. Did she not tell you  
That that high fate you had marked out for her,  
Would be both welcome, great, and glorious;  
And so in loving duty, and kind Loyalty,  
Her heart was at her King's disposal.  King. 
Hold!  
I'll hear no more.  Nigr. 
But Royal Sir, you must,  
Though the bold speaker dies for't. When you've Married her,  
She has her ends. For then, what with your Pride  
For your hard Conquest, and your high assurance  
Both of her Love and Honour, which her great  
And pious Character confirms, she's certain  
To raise your Passion to so vast a height,  
That all she wishes, is her own. What greater  
Security for a loose Woman's pleasure  
Then the fond kindness of an amorous Husband?  
Such liberty and safety waits on Marriage,  
That Clarmount then securely—  King. 
Cease this rudeness;  
They who raise Thunder, may not be so bold  
To sport with it. Yonder it comes.  Nigr. 
What Sir?  King. 
That wondrous thing thou talk'st of.  Nigr. 
Retire but for a minute; if I do not  
Prove all I've told you, let my Blood appease  
Your Anger, and her Injuries—  The King absconds. Enter Aphelia. Aph. 
Nigrello.  Nigr. 
The generous, and the worthy Clarmount thanks you  Aph. 
My Letter you presented?  King. 
Can't be true  
She owns that impious Libel!  Nigr. 
Yes, and he  
Accepted it with so much joy; such ecstasy  
No common influence could raise.  Aph. 
Kind Sir,  
I am your Debtor.  King. 
Yes in justice  
She ought to pay her Bawd; his Office merits it.  Aph. 
He is a generous, and a faithful Friend,  
And whilst th'obliged Aphelia has breath  
T'express, and power to gratify his favours,  
I'll pay my thanks in heaping honours on him.  King. 
How fond she is. She can't forbear to praise him.  
If her loose tongue can be so Prodigal  
To one whom she supposes thinks her honest,  
What are her private thoughts. I am distracted.  Aph. 
This kind, good man—  King. 
Damnation seize him for't.  
'Tis but too plain. Since she can be Unchaste;  
If such a sacred form can bear such stains,  
I cannot wonder at the ancient Romans  
That made their God's Adulterers.  Nigrello 
What readest thou in our brow▪  Nigr. 
A fond desire  
To be deceived. A flattering kind of hope  
That fair Aphelia may be honest still.  King. 
A settled resolution my black Genius,  
Not to be altered by the brackish Tears  
That flow in pregnant eyes of easy Woman.  Aph. 
Why looks my King so altered? What strange error  
Has Fate committed; for if any ill  
Attend so good a King, 'tis heavens' mistake:  
It can't be so unjust as to design it.  
What chance has made this change; you look as if  
A load hung on your thoughts?  King. 
Yes, did man kind  
Think half so bad of Hell, as I of thee,  
There would not be a Sinner in the World.  Aph. 
Am I so terrible? There was a time  
Your language flowed more gently, and Aphelia  
Appeared less frightful. Where's the alteration?  
Trust me my Lord, I feel it not. I fear  
Some Villainy has your pure thoughts infected.  King. 
Why did the oversight of Heaven lay out  
Such vast expense to Beautify a Face,  
And form the Soul of such a different mould?  
Crule Aphelia, cruel to thyself,  
T'obscure such Excellence, Eclipse such Light:  
Is that a Brow fit for eternal Night?  
How could a wanton heat, or loose desire,  
Lodge in that Breast, till the fair seat took fire:  
Whose spreading flames have all your glories crushed,  
Ruined your Fame, and laid your Pride in dust?  
Why this strange fall— why this Lethardick passion?  
I am too mild for an affronted King;  
Thy Treasons are too loud to be discoursed  
So tamely. Oh thou infamous base Woman,  
What saucy Devil tempted thy hot blood  
To prostitute thy Virtue, shame thy Birth,  
Betray thy Credulous King, and damn thy Soul?  Aph. 
I am all horror. Oh my startled senses!  
What means my King?  King. 
To use thee just as coarsely  
As thou hast done thy honour: Take her hence.  Aph. 
Sir, do but hear me—  King. 
Convey her hence, and let her talk to morrow;  
My ears have been too busy for one day.  Aph. 
Then I am satisfied; if I have leave  
To speak my Innocence before my Death,  
I thank kind Heaven, my courage is so high,  
Whate're's my doom, I can obey, and die.  Exit Nigrello leading Aphelia. King. 
If so much Innocence, and so much Beauty  
Can be corrupted; if Aphelia can  
Turn Whore, why may not all man kind  
Mistrust their Fathers, and suspect their Births?  
Their Mothers are less fair, and why more honest.  
Who knows, but whilst the Husband's arms embrace  
The seeming honest Wife, her wanton fancy  
May in a straggling fit, fix on a satire,  
Or some more lustful favourite; and her issue,  
Though 'tis got lawfully, be conceived a Bastard.  Exit.  

Scene the last The Scene a Grotto.  Enter Lewis, Brisac, Soldiers with a Page carrying a dark Lantern. Lew. 
Upon your Lives, let no man pass that way;  
Make that your Post.  Bris. 
Your Grace shall be obeyed.  Lew. 
So if the darkness of the place protects him,  
If he escapes my hands, he'll fall in yours.  Exeunt. The Scene opened; Clarmount and Fredigond are discovered together. Enter Lewis. Clarm.. 
Here all our joys are safe; no envious eyes,  
No rudeness will this humble Seat surprise.  
Nor can ill Fate our secure Loves betray:  
No fire can guide a Jealous King this way.  Fred. 
Oh my dear Clarmount, 'twas unkindly done  
To have my pleasures hindered by my Son,  
Considering 'twas I that made him King;  
'Twas I that set his Father's soul on wing.  Lew. 
Ye Gods, what a discovery have I made:  
Had she a hand too in my Father's Murder!  Aside. Fred. 
And yet Heaven knows how I abhorred the sin;  
Yet for thy sake could act it o'er again:  
To kill a Husband, was a crime so horrid,  
As startled me to enter in my thoughts,  
Till Love presented me objects so gay,  
As instantly drew the dark Scene away.  Clarm. 
We are betrayed.  Lew. 
Stir Traitor, and thou diest:  [Holds a Dagger at his Breast. 
Brisac.  Enter Brisac, Nigrello, and Soldiers. Bris. 
My Lord.  Lew. 
That Monster is thy charge.  Clarm. 
Nigrello in the Plot. Oh credulous Fool!  Lew. 
Thou glorious Light, that in thy natural Orb  
Didst comfortably shine upon this Kingdom,  
How is thy worth Eclipsed? what a dull darkness  
Hangs round about thy Fame? in all this piece  
To every limb whereof, I once owed duty:  
I know not now where to find out my Mother.  Queen. 
The Devil and disobedience blinds your eyes.  Lew. 
Oh that I had no eyes, so you no shame:  
Murder your Husband to arrive at Lust,  
And then to lay the blame on Innocence:  
Blush, blush, thou worse than Woman.  Queen. 
Ha, ha—  Let. 
Hold my heart.  
You're impudent in▪ sin; has your lustful Villain  
Made you thus Valiant?  Queen. 
How darest thou clothe thy speech in such a phrase  
To me thy Mother?  Lew. 
Adulterate Woman, shame of Royalty;  
I blush to call thee Mother, yes to think it.  
Whilst I reflect upon thy tainted blood,  
I doubt the pureness of my own. The spring head  
Defiled, who knows but the under stream may be  
Corrupted: I am all distraction,  
And dare not talk too long on such a subject,  
Lest wildness conquering my softer sense,  
Thrust forth my hand into an act of horror.  Queen. 
Insolent Boy, wilt thou turn Parricide?  Lew. 
The justice of my cause would well excuse  
Me, if I should. Nigrello.  Nigr. 
Sir, your pleasure▪  Lew. 
Nature forbids me spill my Mother's blood,  
And Clarmount is unfit for my Revenge;  
For I must study torments for the Villain.  
This is the Night that the Confederates  
Begin the work: Therefore I give '●m up  
To thy Tuition, till I shall return  
Victorious, then we'll determine of 'em.  Exeant Lewis and Brisac. Queen. 
Did I for this, ungrateful Traitor, trust  
My honour in thy hands▪  Clar. 
Did she for this  
Bestow her Princely smiles on thee; prefer thee;  
Raise thee to honour, and rewards above—  Nigr. 
No more; I have no time for words or thoughts  
Of any thing but Justice; take 'em hence,  
And lodge 'em in that Dungeon which I told you.  Exeunt Fredigond and Clarmount forced out by Guards. 
All goes as I could wish: The King's possessed  
Aphelia has been Debauched by Clarmount.  
And this Night's work  
Strengthens that Faith; for Clarmount being removed,  
By his strange and sudden absence, 'twill be thought  
He lies concealed, and that concealment seem  
Th' effect of guilt, by which I'll work the King  
To a belief he thinks his crime discovered,  
And is retired t'avoid the punishment.  
What prospect of Revenge am I arrived to.  
Their confidence in my Honesty destroys'em.  
What safer policy than seeming just▪  
The greatest prop of Treachery is Trust.  [Exeunt.   

ACT the Fifth.  
Scene the First.  The Scene a Prison. Clarmount and Fredigond appear bound. Enter Nigrello. Clarm. 
ARt thou here?  
Perfidious Slave, is this the gratitude  
Thou payest thy Royal Mistress?  Queen. 
Barbarous Villain,  
Thou hast outdone even thy own Native soil,  
And made thyself a Monster, more deformed  
Then ere thy afric bred.  Nigr. 
Go on.  Clarm. 
Oh Impudence!  
Hear me ye sacred Powers, in punishment  
To such Ingratitude, may you invent  
A Plague, for yet your Vengeance never sent  
On all the sinners since the World's Creation,  
One bad enough for him. But if the Gods  
Are barren at Invention, let 'em join  
All their old Plagues in one; and if that prove  
Too light, add my Gall to't to make it weight.  Nigr. 
You're not so good at Curses, as I am  
At pardoning 'em: Thus I reward your Rage.  [Unbinds 'em. Clarm. 
What means this Pageantry? some fair disguise  
To palliate thy guilt. Mock us with freedom,  
To cut our throats more pleasantly. Is't not  
Enough to kill, but you must have the vanity  
Of a Surprise in acting it?  Nigr. 
You wrong me.  Clarm. 
'Tis likely; you're so innocent the least  
Spot stains you. First, betray our privacy  
And thy Queen's Honour, then to have her seized  
And dragged by servile hands into a Dungeon,  
Loaded with Chains, and all to have th'occasion  
T'oblige her with the taking of 'em off again.  
How thin, and how transparent are thy cheats?  Nigr. 
Sir, t'undeceive you, know that I am guiltless:  
And though I was the man that seized you, sent you  
To Prison, used all cruelty and rudeness  
I could invent, 'twas all designed to serve you.  Queen. 
He speaks like Oracles in Mysteries.  Nigr. 
And like them too speak truth. Your Son betrayed you:  
But by what information he surprised you  
In so retired a place, I know not; but  
Finding you were betrayed, and by the Prince  
Beset; I, at the Alarm straight joined  
With the Confederates, appeared their Friend.  
Pursued the chase more eagerly than they,  
And was the first, and fiercest that attacked you.  
I first proposed this Dungeon for you Lodging,  
And as kind Fate would have it, by that interest,  
My Service to the Prince in his recovery,  
Had gained me in his breast, It was thought honest,  
And my design embraced. Thus was I made  
Your Jailor, and thus your Deliverer.  Clarm. 
Can this be truth?  Queen. 
He cant sure be so great  
A Villain as this makes him, if't be false:  
We have found him honest; this was not the first time  
That he has been the Guardian of our Honour,  
In places too, where had he then proved false,  
Our Infancy had been more loud, and our  
Disgrace more public then by seizing us  
In so retired a place as this. Why not  
A Villain then? If he intended Treason,  
Why missed he such much fairer opportunities  
To act it? no, he is; he must be honest.  Clarm. 
Since your mistrust is gone, mine too must vanish.  Nigr. 
But Madam, Courtesies that cost us nothing,  
Cannot be acts of Gratitude: Fate (I thank it)  
To pay my Debts to you, a glorious path has shown,  
By saving your Lives I expose my own:  
But danger's welcome in so great a cause.  Queen. 
Nigrello, kind Nigrello, how I love thee.  Nigr. 
Your pious Son has such strict sense of Honour,  
That though perhaps Nature may intercede for You▪  
For Clarmount, he designs a death in Tortures:  
But when he shall have heard I saved his Life,  
What danger will my humble weakness run,  
By the just anger of so great a Prince;  
How easily am I crushed by such a hand:  
Yet all this Madam, I dare undertake,  
When acted for my Royal Mrs. sake.  Queen. 
My kind preserver, I want words to thank thee  Nigr. 
I ask no thanks; all the requital I  
Desire, is, that you two would Love for ever.  
Under the shelter of so blessed an Union  
I'm certain to be safe; whilst that tie holds;  
That sacred tie of Love, you'● cast some thoughts.  
On your poor humble Slave, and guard him from  
An angry Prince's rage: But if that Chain  
Be ever broke, my shaken fortune sinks,  
And all I am expires and dies, if e'er  
You cease to Love—  Queen. 
If what we owe to thee,  
Can by our Loves be paid, doubt not your Debtors,  
We are too Rich in Love e'er to be Bankrupts.  Clarm. 
When we cease Loving, we must cease to be:  
Our Loves are Registered in Heaven; or if  
They be not yet, they shall be. Ye dull Destinies,  
I'll dictate while you write. Our Love desires  
To last as long as Fate, for I am serves  
'Tis as unchangeable. To those fair Eyes  
I'll dedicate my Life, my Soul, my—  Nigrello stamps, and immediately a Company of Villains rush in with drawn Swords, and massacre the Queen and Clarmount. Nigr. 
Down, down with them you Dogs; one minutes Life  
May save their souls. So, you've done well,  
Lay their bodies where I ordered,  
And when I give the sign again, be ready.  Exeunt Villains, carrying out Clarmount and Fredigond. 
Revenge, oh dear Revenge. Name me the man  
In Story that e'er prosecuted Vengeance  
So far as I have done. Had I took their lives  
When they expected death, they then might have  
Prepared for dying, and death would have been all.  
But now to raise 'em to the hopes of Life,  
Nay, and to work'em up to vow the leading  
A profane Life in an unlawful Lust;  
And whilst the impious Vow was sealing, then  
To stop th'adulterous breath just in that minute,  
As damned their Souls, is a revenge so charming.  
But business now grows thick. Here I have lodged  
Aphelia, and expect the King. Burn on,  
Burn on my best loved Rage. Ye infernal Furies  
Be kind, and heighten my weak gall; be but  
My Slaves to day, and be my Saints to morrow.  Enter King and a Lord attending him. Lord. 
The Castle is surrounded, and their number  
Is twenty thousand, and the greatest part  
Are Childricks' Soldiers, Souls of blood and fire.  
A fiercer Troop, and spirits more resolved,  
Life never put in action.  King. 
Let 'em come on,  
This Castle will endure  
A Fortnight's Siege. Before which time's expired,  
My Brother with the noblest blood of France,  
Whom I have Commissioned to suppress their outrage,  
Shall lash these Rebels for their insolence.  
Leave us. Nigrello.  Exit Lord. Nigr. 
Sir.  King. 
Bring Aphelia in.  Exit Nigrello. 
Love, thou hast had thy flight; now Hate take thine,  
Whilst my blind Faith believed her chaste, my Faith  
Made my Devotion; I believed that Heaven  
Was lodged in her, and so I kneelt and worshipped.  
But now I see I have misplaced my prayers,  
And find that Idol-Beauty I adored,  
No true Divinity: To expiate  
My misled Zeal, I'll put the false light out,  
And down in dust, low as the grave, degrade  
That painted God my Superstition made.  Enter Nigrello and Aphelia. Aph. 
Is this my King? why wears your angry brow  
So dark a Cloud? I have deserved no frowns:  
Yet by the calculation of your looks,  
I find I have not long to Live.  Nigr. 
Yes, Live.  
Confess, and turn thy Fate: Tell me what damned  
Infernal Fury tempted thee to quit  
Thy Innocence, and leave a stain behind it  
So deep, as spreads Contagion o'er thy Soul.  Aph. 
How Royal Sir, what means—  King. 
Hold,  
Confess thy Crimes, but make 'em not too horrid;  
Say that thy sin was not so black; say that  
The lustful Villain offered Marriage to thee,  
And by a Treacherous and Perfidious craft,  
Gilded the sin, till it looked fair and lovely.  
Abused thy tender years and weaker knowledge,  
To take a possession of thy Virgin Honour  
Before the deeds were sealed that should convey it.  
Say he betrayed thee.  Aph. 
Hold Sir—  King. 
That too much still.  
Say that he gave thee philters, and so poisoned  
Thy purer Nature, till the infectious herbs  
Had stupefied that sense which was the guard  
Of thy untainted Honour, till thy Sovereign  
Reason was from its Royal seat deposed,  
And so thy Frenzy, not thy Lust undid thee.  Aph. 
I am all horror.  King. 
Hold; That shape's too black still;  
Say that the Villain did it by surprise.  
Found thee alone, or sleeping, and his Dagger  
Pointed against thy heart, by force extorted  
The fatal prize, whilst fear, not guilt betrayed thee.  
Say any thing to make thee seem less monstrous.  
Whilst I behold that face I love so well still,  
I would not have thee faln from all that's good;  
I ●ain would think thee Virtuous, if I could.  Aph. 
Stay Royal Sir, and hear an injured Maid:  
I've felt the Tyranny of Prisons, Chains,  
My Sovereign's frowns; and those I've born with courage.  
But t'hear my King accuse me of a Crime,  
Of which my thoughts, nor dreams were never guilty.  
If I betrayed my Virtue, I must lay  
The Scene of Treason in some strange dark place  
As Sun ne'er saw: For after such a stain  
I could not look Light in the face and live.  King. 
How impudent is Lust; she never thought,  
Not she, nor dreamed an ill. Because some Charity  
For her Soul, and some little kindness for her Beauty  
Made me so fond, to wish her Crime might be  
As little as it could; she at next word  
Has Innocence enough to stock a Saint,  
And takes the borrowed Name without a blush.  Aph. 
Mistaken Sir, you are abused. What Monster  
Has some malicious Traitor rendered me?  King. 
Ask your Gallant, your Clarmount.  Aph. 
You distract me:  
Clarmount Sir, what of him?  King. 
You'd have me tell you:  
The sport's so Ravishing, that by this Light,  
She's for the pleasure of the repetition on't.  Aph. 
Why do you shake my tender sense, & offer  
Such Violence to my chaste ears? Indeed  
If you could read my Soul, you would not talk  
So like a Stranger to't. whatever malice  
Conspires against your quiet and my Life,  
By my best hopes of Heaven, Heaven that should guard  
The fame of Virtue, and the peace of Kings,  
I'm injured, basely wronged, and am so far  
From what my King suspects me, that I never spoke  
To Clarmount.  King. 
You're wondrous good at signs then. Sure you rated  
Your Honour at low price, to make no words  
At parting with it. 'Sdeath, not speak to him●  
What numerous Crimes  
Attend on Lust? All other sins came singly.  
The Murder kills a Man; the Sacrilegious  
Plunders a Temple; the Blasphemer Curses  
His God; and who makes more on't▪ But a Woman  
That's Damned in Lust, commits all sorts of sins.  
The Hypocrite she must be; she appears  
The thing she is not. Perjury's her study;  
For she protests for Chastity. If she Marries  
Her antedated Monster in the Bridal Night,  
Wrapped in false light, snatches at unknown joys,  
And cheated with a Conquest that required  
Not half the pains he takes sored, thinks he has gained  
An infinite spoil; when Heaven knows, long since  
The Mine was ransacked, and the Treasure gone.  
And next perhaps, the Issue of her Groom,  
Or Page, is made her cozened Husband's Heir:  
And thus not only her own blood's defiled,  
But the base Canker spreads through Families;  
And so one minutes sin leaves stains to Ages.  
But to unridle this dumb show of Virtue,  
Though you were modest, and you durst not speaks,  
I'll try if you dare read. Is not that yours?  Shows her the Letter. Aph. 
Yes Sir; and where's the offence of this?  King. 
She's witty with me. Where's the offence on't says she!  Aph. 
What's this I see, what a black line is here.  Reads. 
Be careful of my Honour, when I am Married and a Queen, our stolen pleasures will be more difficult, but shall not be less desired, nor less grateful to yours still  Aphelia. 
The greatest favour that you e'er can grant me,  
Tell me who gave you this.  Nigr. 
I gave it him.  Aph. 
I am betrayed. This false Nigrello told me  
That Clarmount had prevailed with you to quit  
All Love to me, and give me to your Brother,  
And then persuaded me to write my thanks  
To Clarmount, in acknowledgement of such  
An eminent favour. ay, surprised at such  
A sudden bliss, what by my Brother, who  
Confirmed his words—  King. 
Brisac too in the Treason!  Aph. 
— And my own passionate desires too apt  
To take impression from so fair a stamp,  
Which ease believed so wished a story; and  
In height of ecstasy, expressed my sense  
Of Clarmounts Friendship in that Letter to him:  
Which this unkind ill man, to spot my fame,  
And shake your peace, has Treacherously corrupted,  
And by that last forged line, subverted all  
My innocent meaning.  King. 
Did you write that Postscript?  Nigr. 
Yes.  King. 
And abused her Innocence?  Nigr. 
Ay Sir.  King. 
Can I believe my Ears.  Nigr. 
I know no reason  
To th'contrary.  King. 
How Slave,  
Art thou in earnest?  Nigr. 
Why Sir, do I look  
As if I jested?  King. 
Death, Hell, and the Devii!  Nigr. 
Death, Hell, and Devil; you do well to call'em:  
But trouble not yourself; they're near enough  
To come without a call.  King. 
I'm all amazement:  
But what I want in words, I'll speak in deeds.  Offers to draw, at which Nigrello stamps, and the former villains rush in, seize, and disarm him. 
You are too rash: Kings may be Kings in Palaces,  
But not in Dungeons. 'Tis I am Monarch here.  
Clotair, it would be Charity to kill you,  
For you've outlived your power. This day your Brother  
By my Conspiracy, converts that force  
You lent him to assist the Rebel's cause.  
And you shall live to see him crowned. Release him.  The Villains let him go. King. 
Thou black Infernal Dog. Thank Heaven that gave thee  
A Face of such a die as cannot blush:  
Or rather thank the Devil that lent thee Impudence  
To be bejond the use or fear of blushing.  Nigr. 
But now I think on't better, Life's a burden,  
And I will ease you on't. Have at your heart.  Aph. 
Hold, hold Nigrello, stay, stay, save the King.  Interposing. 
And I'll forgive thee all thy wrongs to Me.  Nigr. 
Peace foolish Woman, I that kill one King,  
Have raised another; one too, that shall make  
Aphelia Queen. But King, before thou diest  
I'll show thee my Experience in Murder.  A Curtain drawn, Clarmount and Fredigond appear dead. King. 
My Mother dead! Inhuman Villain, though  
I scorn to fear my Death, or ask my Life  
Of thee, I'll condescend 't'as mean an act  
As King was ever guilty of; I'll stoop  
To talk to thee, and ask thee what strange cause  
Made thee this Traitor.  Nigr. 
Think upon the wrongs  
Of the abused Chlotilda.  King. 
What's her wrongs to thee?  Nigr. 
I'll not capitulate my Injuries.  Within: Long Live Lewis King of France. Nigr. 
I hear my time is short.  King. 
My Brother Crowned!  
How! can the Slave speak truth!  Nigr. 
Now for thy blood.—  
I cannot strike him: Oh relenting heart!  
What Awe hangs on the brow of Majesty.  
Faint heart! A Man so long, and now turn Woman  
In the last action of my Life. Here, take  
This Sword: But I conjure you by the wrongs  
That I have heaped upon you, by the loss  
Of fair Aphelia,  
To guide the point directly at my heart.  Gives him his Sword. King. 
What means this turn? But I've no time for questions.  
A Villain and a Traitor die with thee.  Kills him. Enter Lewis, Brisac, Bourbon, Lamot, Dumane, and Attendants. Lewis. 
Aphelia, welcome to my Arms. Clotair,  
Thou art thy Brother's Prisoner.  King. 
No Usurper,  
This gives me freedom.  falls on his Sword. Lew. 
Hold your hand.  King. 
No Rebel,  
Your Mercy comes too late after your Treason.  
I cannot lose Aphelia, and outlive  
That loss. Nigrello, tell me who thou art;  
For by thy glorious Villainy, thy Wit,  
Thy Courage, and thy Conduct, I am sure  
That blackness hides some noble blood. What art?  Nigr. 
Chlotilda.  Lam. 
How! my Sister!  All. 
Chlotilda.  Nigr. 
Ravished by thee Clotair, betrayed by Clarmount  
And Fredigond, for which they are no more.  
'Twas they seduced me to that fatal place,  
Where you my Honour stole; 'twas they that spilt  
My Guiltless Parent's blood; and in requital  
'T was I betrayed them hither, where at once  
I took Revenge both on their Lives and Souls.  
But when I came to my last stroke of Vengeance,  
After I had robbed thee of a Crown and Mrs.  
To kill thee King, there, there, my sury stop●●  
Thou hadst injured me, yet I would die by Thee.  
And though I had worn so long a masculine shape  
For all my other Scenes of Cruelty,  
I put on my own Sex again to die.  Dum. 
Our Sister and our Patroness! This Revenge  
Is an Estate to th'family; 'twill make  
The Dumane race immortal.  Nigr. 
Now I die.  To Lewis. 
Grant me this favour for the Crown I gave you,  
Though I have justly wrought your Brother's fall,  
I must not blast his Fame after his Death:  
He was no Murderer till I made him one;  
Your Father's Destiny was your Mother's Crime.  
But oh I die. When elder time shall rip  
This story up, be courteous to my Fame;  
Call not these Ruins Treason, but Revenge;  
A satisfaction due to an Injured Lady.  
Call me and honourable Murderer,  
And finish there as I do.  Dies King. 
Art thou gone?  
Farewell thy Sex's Champion; thou hast acted  
A cruel part so high, so well, that it  
Commands applause from those it has destroyed.  
And Rival Brother, if you dare be just,  
Build her a Pyramid for a Monument.  
But whilst  
I'give her Cruelties pardon, I forget  
To ask if for my own. Injured Aphelia,  
Forgive a sin greater then what thy Chains  
And this black Dungeon brands me with. Forgive  
My Impious Faith that durst believe a wanton  
And unchaste thought could harbour in thy Breast;  
A Seat, Divinities would choose to dwell in.  
Here I would gaze for ever, but an envious darkness  
Hangs on my Eyes, farewell. Must we part then?  
Is King and Lover such a mortal name?  
Where's all my mighty Vows? Where's all  
My passionate Devotion to the fair Aphelia?  
Shrunk to a poor faint Sigh, a dying look,  
A cold farewell to Love; and then no more.  dies Aph. 
Farewell great Soul, when in thy glorious flight  
Thou hast reached thy high Immortal Seat above,  
Forget thy harsh and rigid Fate below,  
And borrow so much Mercy from that Heaven,  
Of which thou makest a part, to pardon faults  
Unkind Aphelia had not power to shun:  
Who to such kindness could so cruel prove,  
Wanting a heart to pay so great a Love.  Lew. 
What strange intrigues has Fate wrought up to day▪  
Disguised Nigrello, the abused Chlotilda!  
And I by false suggestions blindly led,  
Have aimed a Sword against a guiltless head:  
Deposed a Brother to Revenge a Father.  
Thy Rage was just, but mine was too severe.  
The sad resentments of my fatal error,  
And thy wrongs, spread a darkness o'er my Soul  
That misbecomes this day.  
But Tears are all, we to the dead can pay;  
And whilst I view such happiness so near  
My griefs at this bright Object disappear.  
But injured Prince t'appease thy angry doom,  
I'lle be a pious Mourner at thy Tomb,  
When my great joys, and my Aphelias' charms  
Will give me time t'attend thy Sacred Dust,  
And Love afford me leisure to be just.  Exeunt omnes● 
FINIS.   

POSTSCRIPT.  
THis Play is founded on a Tragedy called the Fatal Contract. And in the two First Acts, there is much of the Original Copy remaining. But from Page 25th. 'tis entirely New to the End, excepting the Last Scene in the 4th. Act, and a little Scene between Dumane, Lamot, and Bourbon. For in the Fatal Contract, after the supposed Death of Lewis, in the 2d. Act, Aphelia in the very next Scene after, at First Word asking, much like the Ephesian Marton, Marries the King her Lover's Murderer, which quite varied the Intrigue to the End of the Play. I could make Excuses for putting an ill Head upon Worse Shoulders; Or tell you as some of our Impertinent Tribe do, that 'twas Written in three Weeks, or a Month's time, if I thought any Reasonable Man, would be more Favourable to the Defects of the Play for such an Apology. But as I am Sensible, that that Excuse to a Play, would be much like that of a Builder, that after the fall of a House, shall tell you, truly he Built slightly, and chose in ill Foundation; I will not urge that Plea for the Plays Defence; which in the best Interpretation must render an Author Lazy, if not Dull: In the first of which, he shows himself Impudent, when he dares be so Disrespectful to an Audience, as to obtrude such incorrect Stuff upon●em, as he is, or aught to be ashamed of: Or else proves himself a Blockhead, and makes that Excuse, when really he wanted Abilities, not Leisure to write better.