THE STEPMOTHER, A Tragicomedy, Acted with great Applause at the Theatre in Little Lincolns-Inn-Fields, By His Highness the DUKE of YORK's Servants.  
Imprimatur, Decemb. 26. 1663. ROGER L'ESTRANGE.  
LONDON, Printed by I. Streater; And are to be sold by Timothy Twyford, at his Shop within the Inner-Temple-Gate, 1664.   

THE STATIONER TO THE READER.  
Noble Readers,  
AMong the many Public Benefits wherein these Times are happier than the former Ages, I presume, it pleases you to see the Improvement of the Stage. Plays are now acted that delight Spectators, without Immodesty, or Profaneness: two rocks, on which heretofore divers excellent Authors split themselves, and cast such an odium upon dramatic Presentments, that the best persons shunned them, as the worst of recreations. Whereas our Theatres (reformed, as well as beautified) are by all frequented, as the great Schools of Moral Virtue. But I have brought you to the House, 'tis not good manners to keep you at door; be pleased to enter, and accept of this Impression, from  
Your Servant, T. T.   

THE PROLOGUE TO THE KING, At the COCKPIT at White-Hall.  
SIR, by the humble Writer I am sent  
To move you in a Suit by Precedent,  
That you will please, like Charles the 5 th', to lay  
Aside (this Night) the Business of the Day,  
And look upon slight Images, far short  
Of those presented in that Emp'rour's Court;  
For, Art does not our Power so far enlarge,  
That we can make two wooden armies charge,  
Or a carved Sparrow fly: but we do bring  
A Nightingale, sweet Philomela to sing:  
And from old Verulam ('mong Time's Decays  
Shrunk to a name) th' Inhabitants we raise,  
Who if in their new life they may invite  
The best of Caesar's to the least Delight,  
To th' Author 'twill be such a joy, as none  
Conceive, but only those You smile upon,   

THE PROLOGUE To the STAGE.  
WHat's here? so many Noble Persons met?  
Nay then I see, this House will not be let,  
Which by our Friends (from all parts of the Nation)  
Is so well warmed after the long Vacation,  
Believe me, Ladies, the pure Country-air  
Has made you fresh-complexioned; and our Care  
Shall be (whilst you're in London) to expel  
Care from your hearts, that you may still look well.  
Gentlemen, when we lay becalmed, you waked  
Over the pleasant Meads, bowled, hunted, hawked,  
And having exercised your Bodies thus,  
To recreate your Minds, you come to Us.  
Never were Friends more welcome— if I may  
Be bold to bid you welcome to a Play  
Of your own making; I confess, 'tis writ  
By th' Author of The Slighted Maid, and yet  
You're th' Authors of it: for I heard him say,  
When you encouraged that, you made this Play.  
And now, since to yourselves your title's known,  
We hope, you'll have a kindness for your Own.   

THE SCENE, VERULAM.  
Persons represented. Actors. Sylvanus. Prince of Verulam. Mr. Sandford. Filamor. His Son. Mr. Bettertun. Adolph. Son to Pontia, by the Prince of Malden. Mr. Young. Tetrick. Favourite to Sylvanus. Mr. Underhill. Fromund. Filamor' s Tutor. Mr. Price. Crispus. Pontia ' s General. Mr. Smith. Capito. His Lieutenant General. Mr. Metborn. Gracchus, and Sergius. Two Gladiators, which the Romans called the Retiarius and Secutor. Mr. Lovel, Mr. Rob. Noke. Pontia. Princess of Malden, second Wife to Sylvanus. Mrs. Williams. Caesarina. Her Daughter by the Prince of Malden. Mrs. Bettertun. Violinda. Daughter to Sylvanus. Mrs. Davies. Brianella. Pontia's Favouritess. Mrs. Long.  
Maskers.  
The Instrumental, Vocal, and Recitative Music, was composed by Mr. Lock.   

Errata.  
PAge 14. line 29. read Britan's. * p. 25. l. 5. r. for these words. p. 29. l. 23. r. let him know. p. 32. l. 15. r. [Exit Bri. p. 33. l. 22. r. strike. p. 40 l. 26. for Tet. read Fro. p. 44. l. 17. r. makes. p. 44 l. 20. r, [they dance. p. 47. l. 21. r. kill. p. 51. l. 26. for, Violinda, r. Caesarina. p. 88. l. 22 r. sowed. page the last, line 2. read, tried him.   

THE STEPMOTHER: A Tragicomedy.  
Actus Primus.  Enter Filamor and Fromund in a Garden, Tetrick walking alone, and reading. Fil. 
NO, Fromund, I have had too many proofs  
Of thy Fidelity, to doubt it now.  Fro. 
Sir, if you were not Filamor, nor Son  
To my Prince, if I were not your sworn Servant;  
Without relation, merely for your Virtues,  
Fromund would sacrifice his life to serve you  
In this Design against your Stepmother,  
Your envious and imperious Stepmother,  
Who rules your Father, and would ruin You.  Fil. 
The difficulty of the work will be,  
When we have got my Father to the Woods,  
How we shall keep him there: for since he married  
This Woman, she has mastered both his Courage  
And Reason; she governs his very Soul,  
He cannot live without her.  Fro. 
There's the man  
Whose power can balance hers, for your Old Father  
Dotes but on two, his Wife and that great Scholar  
My Friend.  Fil. 
And you can make him ours.  Fro. 
Not I,  
What I am to present him from your Highness  
Will make him Yours.  Fil. 
Firm?  Fro. 
If he once engages  
Nothing can alter him, he's an honest man:  
Peevish, but (to our comfort) Covetous:  
Yet he'll not take a Bribe to do unjustly;  
But if he be employed, he will be paid,  
This Gold and this rich Book will sweeten him.  Fil. 
Attack him; I wait for my severe Mistress,  
'Tis Princess Caesarina's walking-time.  Exit Filamor. Fromund claps Tetrick on the Back. Tetrick. 
The Prince's Tutor? Well returned to Britain.  Fro. 
Our good old Master's Favourite, learned Tetrick.  Tet. 
Out of what Region have the Clouds drop:  
Fromund?  
Where all this while wert thou and our young Prince?  Fro. 
We lived where Grapes grow, like our Crabs, in  
hedges,  
Where every Tree looks lovelier than this Garden,  
In Italy, the Paradise of Nature  Tet. 
The plague of War consume your Paradise;  
The Galls overrun Italy again;  
Ten thousand Dropsies, Cramps and Gouts torment  
That leg of earth.  Fro. 
Still snarling my friend Tetrick?  Tet. 
Men may well snarl when they are used like Dogs,  
As we have been, by our Italian Masters.  Fro. 
But now the Roman Legions are called back,  
And we are freemen, Britain is old Britain.  Tet. 
But Italy is still cursed Italy,  
I would not hear thee praise it any more,  
For twenty pieces of Imperial Gold.  Fro. 
I'll try what power one piece has over you. aside.  
This Medal (Caesar graved in gold) I brought  
From Rome for thee: and is not Italy  
(Where these Flowers grow) a most delicious Country?  Tet. 
The Garden of the World! how blind was I,  
That could not see the Beauty of Italy  
Till I had wiped my eyes with Caesar's Picture;  
Now I perceive the error of my Judgement;  
Why should we hate Countries that hurt not us?  
The Roman Yoke galls not our necks: you see  
Our old Lord, Prince of Verulam, dares own  
His Title: and what Curiosities  
Has our young Prince brought from the Nursery  
Of Arms and Arts, sweet Italy?  Fro. 
Rare Music;  
And Voices, such a Treble and a Base—  Tet. 
How merrily shall we live— pox o' the devil.  Pontia, Caesarina, and Brianella walk over the Stage. 
There's the confoundress of thy Master's music,  
Pluto could not have raked him out of hell  
Such a Stepmother, she reigns o'er his Father.  Fro. 
But the date of her Sovereign power is out,  
By this time the old Prince is in our hands,  
We have him in the Woods.  Tet. 
And long you'll keep him;  
His very first reflection on the fury  
Or slattery of's Wife, posts him to Court,  
He'll leave you.  Fro. 
'Tis expected; therefore, Tetrick,  
My Master has sent me to engage you,  
If th'old Prince change his mind, you can persuade him,  
He believes all you say.  Tet. 
I believe nothing  
You say, or do; your Plot's a scurvy Plot.  Fro. 
But you can mould it into a better form.  Tet. 
Nay, since you can begin your plots without me,  
End 'em without me.  Fro. 
And shall I return  
The Prince this answer?  Tet. 
Every syllable.  Fro. 
Shall I return his Princely Present too?  Tet. 
That is to be considered of— let's feeed.  Fro. 
Alas, 'Tis only a poor Table-Book,  
The cover is but Gold and set with Rubies,  
Not worth your looking on  Tet. 
This needed not;  
Without fee, I'd have been o'th' Prince's Counsel,  
And the Cause shall go with him, never fear 't;  
But they say, the Step-mother's inquiring  
For Witches, they'll discover all we do.  Fro. 
That she may seek no further, I have told  
Her Favourite, my Mistress Brianella,  
That yesternight there came into the Woods  
A Bard, that's a Witch-maker:  Tet. 
Your Witch-maker  
By any means must be attended by  
A Conjurer and a Witch to learn their Trades.  Fro. 
I'll be the Witch, I think my face will serve;  Tet. 
And Scholars make rare Conjurers, I'll play my part,  
Come, bring me now to kiss your Master's hand.  Exeunt, Enter Pontia, Caesarina, and Brianella. Pontia. 
Stir Caesarina, only exercise,  
Can prevent th' undermining of thy Colour  
By the Green Sickness, that long gravel walk  
Did always please thee.  Caesarina. 
When I was in breath,  
But I'm grown too shortwinded for a walk  
Of this length, Madam, I shall ne'er hold out.  Pon. 
One quarter of an hour, and I'll release thee.  Exit Caesarina. 
But Brianella, art thou sure thou sawst  
Filamor in the Arbour?  Brianella. 
At this Lute;  
With him a Flamen, and a winged Boy  
That should be Cupid, perhaps Priest and God  
Will in some Dialogue present themselves  
To Princess Caesarina; the Prince said,  
They should sing the Description of a Triumph.  Pon. 
Then I shall now see whether Filamor  
Continue still his Love to Caesarina,  
And how she looks on him after his Travails;  
Let's to the close walk, my Son Adolph's there.  Exit Pon. and Bri. Filamor discovered in an Arbour, with a Lute in his hand; on either side the Arbour, on two pedestals, Cupid stands, and the Flamen kneels: as Caesarina walks by they sing. Flamen. 
Why unarmed, poor Cupid, pray thee,  
Tell a Mortal how 'tis with thee?  Cupid. 
To one Mortal, what another  
Has committed, may be told;  
I am plundered, so's my Mother.  Fla. 
What frail Man durst be so bold?  Cup. 
No, to make us more inglorious,  
'tis a Woman that's Victorious.  Fla. 
Caesarina?  Cup. 
They (who saw her)  
Say, she rides in Triumph here,  
That my Mother's white Doves draw her  
In their Chariot.  Fla. 
Look, she's there.  Cup. 
How knowest thou?  Fla. 
By a sure Token,  
Thy Torch quenched, and thy Bow broken,  
Makes her Trophy; Captives follow.  Cup. 
One Slave Sorrow's Livery wears,  
His Eyes sink, his Cheeks fall hollow,  
In his Face his fate appears.  Fla. 
That Slaves Filamon; no Lover  
Caesarina triumphs over,  
Suffers in Love's Cause so sadly,  
Cupid help?  Cup, 
I cannot do  
Him a favour; I would gladly:  
But I am her Captive too.  

Chorus.  
The World's grown so stupid  
That now 'tis in fashion  
To pray to God Cupid,  
If a Man have a passion,  
He that hopes for a Cure,  
Must get it of Beauty,  
Or else do his Duty.  
That's die, or Endure.   Enter above Pontia, Caesarina, Adolph, Brianella▪ Adolph. 
Has Filamor been so long out of Britain,  
To forget Caesarina is your Daughter?  
Court her without your leave?  Pon. 
Or thy consent.  Ad. 
That's more than you know (by your favour, Madam)  Pon. 
He kneels, see. aside  Ad. 
Hear him.  Fil. 
Heaven is in your Eyes,  
Disorder not that beauty with a frown  
On your Adorer; if my love displease,  
Be not offended with my gratitude,  
I name you in my Hymns, as shipwrecked men  
Sing to the Deities which have preserved them;  
By virtue of that sacred word, your Name,  
I have outlived the pains of death in absence,  
At my return to you, dearer than life,  
Friends, Father, or our common Mother Britain;  
Will you, for want of one poor smile, destroy me?  Cae. 
Make not yourself a Supplicant to me,  
Prince Filamor, kneel where you owe a Duty;  
Kneel to the Gods, to grant you Understanding,  
That you may see, I cannot love; and then  
To one that can love you, apply yourself;  
You have my counsel and resolve.  Fil. 
For pity,  
Leave me not to despair; though all my sighs  
Breathed on the air of Italy, were lost  
At such a distance; now we're met again;  
May not prayers alter your severity?  Cae. 
Can prayers alter a Decree of Fate?  Fil. 
Prayers joined with services: if Verulam  
Open too narrow a Prospect for your eye  
I'll draw my sword, and merit from my Country  
th'enlargment of our bounds.  Pon. 
He works upon  
The humours of Ambition; I'm afraid  
The Milk she sucked from my Breast will betray her.  Cae. 
To be the first on Mountains, in poor hovells,  
Rather then t'have the second place in Rome,  
Was Caesar's wish, but 'tis not Caesarina's;  
Your Cottages cannot make me a Court;  
I'm not like Ladies newly come to London,  
Who from the vast height of Diana's Temple  
Look down, and please their eyes with little people,  
Objects, that are not magnified, I scorn;  
The Prince that would discover his Dominions,  
Let him turn the Prospective Glass to me  
At the right End, great Subjects I must fee.  Pon. 
She yields?  Al. 
For my friend's sake, would she did yield.  Fil. 
Great Subjects! all our British Lords shall kneel  
To Caesarina; I have formed it thus,  
You know the Kentish-men have took up arms  
Against the Trinobants, the Londoners;  
Whilst Scots and Borderers, with their deadly feuds,  
Engage the Northern parts in Civil War;  
No sooner from the Roman Slavery  
This Iland's free, but we (like madmen armed)  
Die our white-feathered shafts in our own blood;  
Against these Enemies to the Public Peace  
I'll make a League, and fight my Country's battles,  
Till I fix Britain in a Settlement.  
Then, as the best means to keep Peace, (thus Purchased  
By me) I may with confidence presume,  
The Wisdom of the Nation for their King  
Will choose their General; who shall lay down,  
At Caesarina's feet, his British Crown.  Cae. 
Filamor, you have had a pleasing Dream,  
And I was loath to wake you, till I found  
Myself concerned; Britain you may subdue,  
If you fight well: but for your fancied Conquest  
Of Caesarina, let me undeceive you:  
'Tis true, I have declared for Sovereignty,  
The Title of a Queen I dote upon;  
But if you offered me a Crown, I should  
Refuse it as Gold poisoned by the giver.  Pon. 
Fly Brianella, and relieve my daughter,  
She comes off bravely; tell her, I and Adolph  
Stay for her; bid one call my General.  Exeunt Pon. Ad. and Bri. Fil. 
Will you not love? then I'll revenge you hatred.  Cae. 
Do, revenge.  Fil. 
On myself, I feel my Spirits,  
Like those the Chemist is extracting, search  
Their brittle prison, with a hope to find  
Some Vent, and then to fly into the Wind.  Cae. 
In that point you may use your own discretion.  Enter Brianella. Bri. 
Madam, your Mother's in the Sicamor-Walk.  Cae. 
I shall attend her. Exit Caesarina.  Enter Fromund. Bri. 
I'll stay, and get news aside.  
Out of my Servant. He whispers Filamor.  Fro. 
Tetrick waits you, Sir,  
With models for a Mask, he has already  
Made your Witch-maker's Prophecy; I'll play  
A Witch, Tetrick will be a Conjurer,  
Bassus the Bard, and we'll show your weak Father  
What a pernicious Wife he dotes upon: Exit Filamor.  
What ails he now, that he has lost his tongue?  
Has not the Princess vexed him?  Fri. 
Yes indeed.  Fro. 
And will not you vex me so?  Bri. 
No indeed,  
For, you love me, you say:  Fro. 
I'll swear it, Madam.  Bri. 
What will not men swear; but swear your heart out,  
You never shall swear me out of my Reason.  Fro. 
Reason! I warrant, Tetrick reads to you  
The Mathematics, you think nothing certain  
But Demonstration.  Bri. 
Is Proof Demonstration?  
Nothing but Proof is certain.  Fro. 
Kiss me then,  
And we will prove, that One and Two make Three.  Bri. 
I will not two and three, pray leave your fooling,  Fro. 
In serious earnest, I would marry you.  Bri. 
Meaning my Fortune?  Fro. 
Meaning Brianella;  
Without a Portion you're a Fortune, Madam,  Bri. 
Thou art a flattering Knave, I doubt  Fro. 
Resolve  
Yourself, please to lay your Commands upon me.  Bri. 
I've no Commands for you, but I've some Questions.  Fro. 
Which if I answer not—  Bri. 
You'll hold your peace:  
How many Duels did you fight at Rome?  Fro. 
But one.  Bri. 
Answer me like a Gentleman,  
Was't for your Mistress?  Fro. 
It concerned You, Madam.  Bri. 
How do you look when you lie?  Fro. 
Not You alone,  
But joined with all our noble British Beauties,  
Whose Honour a base Roman had traduced.  Bri. 
You killed him?  Pro. 
Your Cause slew him by my hand.  Bri. 
Modestly spoke; Had you no hurt?  Fro. 
He pricked  
An Artery, which posed th' Italian Surgeons.  Bri. 
Since, you yourself have studied Surgery?  Fro. 
Would all Gentlemen spent their time no worse;  
I have found out some Secrets.  Bri. 
You've a Powder,  
What do you call't?  Fro. 
The sympathetic Powder.  Bri. 
will't cure the Toothache?  Fro. 
Presently; try, Madam.  Bri. 
No, it may prove Love-Pouder, than 'twill cause  
The Heart-ake: in spite of my own and Love's teeth  
I'll keep my heart whole. Now to my last Quaere,  
What design has your Charge upon the Princess,  
I see in thy sweet looks, there is some plotting.  Fro. 
Plotting of Masks.  Bri. 
Plotting of Knavery!  
But I shall know't, my Lady will tell me,  
And she'll know't if there be a Witch in Britain.  Fro. 
What is thy Lady going to the Devil?  
But let her go, for there's other way  
To sound the bottom of Prince Filamor,  
He's forty fathom deep below my plummit,  
She goes to a wisewoman?  Bri. 
No, she means  
To go to a Wiseman, to the Witch-maker,  
The Bard; who came last night into a Cave  
In our Woods, you shall bring me to the Bard,  Fro. 
Fie! the Bard sings only to Prince's Ears,  
His Prentices, Witches, and Conjurers  
Answer Great Ladies; I'll commend you to  
Th'old Witch that deals in Palmistry; but then  
I'll be your husband.  Bri. 
Who shall be my husband  
The Witch must tell me.  Fro. 
And that Witch I'll be. Exit Fromund.  Enter Pontia, Adolph and Caesarina. Pon. 
I live again, my Children are become  
Their Mother's Parents: when thou, my dear Adolph,  
Look'dst with the eyes of pious rage and scorn  
Upon the Sacrilege of Filamor,  
Who (without leave from me) durst court thy Sister,  
Then my Soul closed in your dead Father's Urn,  
Sprung from his ashes; but when Caesarina  
Stood the temptation of a Shower of Gold,  
Such as the Poets dreamed not of, a Crown  
Offered her by a Prince, wise, young and handsome;  
But yet my Enemy, than I felt the joys  
Of Immortality, to see myself  
Mother to a Beauty, born to revenge me  
Upon a Villain.  Ad. 
Villain? then Fame is—  Pon. 
Filamor's Fool. Before he went to Rome,  
Filamor had the art of cozening Fame:  
For with a Rebel's Impudence he masked  
Foul Treasons under fair and specious Names:  
The disimpowering me to rule my Husband  
(An affront not to be forgiven) he called  
Friendship to Adolph, Love to Caesarina:  
He's now returned improved in Villainy,  
Therefore 'tis time he went a longer Voyage.  Ad. 
And whether will you send him now?  Pon. 
To Hell:  
Nor shall he go so far alone; his Father,  Sylvanus. 
And his Sister Violinda  
Shall bear him Company; th' indignity,  
He would have put on me, shall ruin him  
And his whole Family; I did not think  
(When this Match with Sylvanus was first treated)  
Occasion durst be given, but I resolved  
It should be taken; for I that was born  
A Prince, and no mean Beauty, certainly  
Would never have buried myself alive  
In the cold Grave of an Old Prince's Bed,  
But to rise up with his Crown on my head.  
The principality of Verulam,  
Which I am married to, I'll join to that  
Of Malden, which is my Inheritance,  Cae. 
But Madam, is this Justice?  Pon. 
Give me Power,  
Let honest men, that go to Law, have Justice:  
Subjects may plead their Titles, Princes must  
Dispute what's Advantageous, not what's Just:  
A Crown he merits, who piles Tower on Tower  
To scale the Stars, and rifle Sovereign Power:  
But he that puts himself into a fright  
With empty sounds, mere Terms of Wrong and Rights.  
Is sitter (when his Conscience checks at them)  
To wear a Mitre then a Diadem.  Enter Crispus, Capito, Gracchus and Sergius. Bri. 
Madam, my Lord General,  Pon. 
My Lord,  
Are not our Orders sent away to Malden,  
That I see your Lieutennant-General here?  Crispus. 
Yesterday your Express came to his hand  
In Malden.  Capito. 
Presently I horsed the Foot,  
We marched all night, and by the break of day  
I brought your Army into Barnet-Woods,  
Which is within a League of Verulam,  
Where safe and undiscovered they are lodged  
Till my Lord General Crispus please to come.  Pon. 
Capito, you've been active in my Service.  
Our thanks is but th' earnest of your reward,  
Ha! who are these?  Cri. 
Two of my Lifeguard,  Pon. 
Britons?  Cri. 
No, Madam, Roman Gladiators, Swordmen,  
We call them Masters of Defence,  Pon. 
Stout-men?  Cap. 
Men that fear nothing, death's their playfellow,  
They die upon the Stage to please Spectators,  Pon. 
But were these kind of men ever employed  
In a great Action?  Cri. 
In the Servile War;  
They brought it to a measuring cast at Rome,  
Which should Command in Chief the Lords or Slaves.  Pon. 
I'll have ' 'em for my own Guard, tell ' 'em so;  Cri. 
Gentlemen, 'tis the pleasure of my Prince,  
On the account of Valour and of Service,  
To intrust you with the Guard of her Person.  Sergius. 
'tis a high honour; Gracchus, I had rather  
Be trusted with her Daughter,  Gracchus. 
So had I:  
Pox, that a Swan's Nest, this poor Island should  
Have more great Beauties then the severed World.  Ser. 
That narrow Seas should breed such Venuses,  Gra. 
That British Whales should play with such sweet Mermaids.  Pon. 
We make short Meals, you may dine ere you go.  Cri. 
'tis past Twelve, if by One we be a Horseback,  
We shall return by Three to do your Work.  Pon. 
Then you'll have time to hear what good success  
The British Bard will promise, do you look  
Your General's Commission be drawn up  
For the Conquest of Verulam; come my Lord.  Exeunt Pon. Cri. Cap. Bri. Grac. and Se●. Adolph. and Caesarina. Cae. 
My Mother used to give us better Precepts,  Ad. 
She was good-natured, and had sense of Honour,  Cae. 
And of Religion; but now she leaves  
The Temples of the Gods, to consult Witches,  
As Brianella tells me; I suppose  
The General must go with her, she knows we  
Are for no such black Voyages, 'tis strange  
The General should, for he's a man of Honour.  Ad. 
Was not our Mother once as strict as he  
In point of Honour, but she's changed; this comes  
Of Malice; Sister, take you heed of Malice,  
Outside and inside you're my Mother's Picture,  
In hate to Filamor you resemble her.  Cae. 
I have th' air of her Face, not of her Vices;  
I love not Filamor, as you do, Brother,  
But would not be his murderess, like my Mother.  Ad. 
You would not with a Dart or Poniard kill  
Prince Filamor, but with a Frown you will:  
It were an Honour by your Hand to die,  
My Friend falls sadly, murdered by your Eye.  Cae. 
Can he be murdered, who has power to live?  Ad. 
He has no power, but what you please to give:  
Loved Sister, save my dear Friend's life, and make  
The noblest person happy, for my sake.  Cae. 
Can you (who to a Brother's love pretend)  
Ruin your Sister to preserve your Friend?  Ad. 
Ruin my Sister?  Cae. 
Free Love forced, destroys  
More than our Fortunes, or our Lives, our Joys;  
I'll here no more on't.  Ad. 
So, you'll part in anger,  
And take this fair occasion to break promise?  Cae. 
In what?  Ad. 
Did not you promise me, to beg  
princess Violindas' Picture?  Cae. 
For myself?  
But you shall have it.  Ad. 
Thou art my best Sister.  Cae. 
But if I get y' her Picture, you must do  
Something for me.  Ad. 
Something, nay any thing;  
Still my best Sister.  Cae. 
But when I enjoin you  
To take off him, for whom you thus torment me, aside  
I shall be your worst Sister; for this Picture,  
You will do whatsoever I Command?  Ad. 
Give me her Picture, and command my Life.  Cae. 
A Lover's life? what's that? some Authors say,  
You've one to keep, and eight to give away:  
Muster your nine Lives, Brother, if you'll stand  
My Charge, for 'tis your Patience I'll Command.  Exeunt.  

Actus Secundus.  Enter Sylvanus, Filamor, and Violinda in the Woods. Syl. 
BLessing on Blessing fall upon my Son,  
Faster than tears fall from my Eyes for Joy  
To see thee in my Arms, I'll keep thee here,  
Thou shalt travail no more.  Fil. 
Yes, if I say,  
That 'tis not fit your wife should govern you.  Syl. 
Alas! I could not eat nor sleep in quiet,  
Till I had told her, that 'twas thy advice:  
Excuse the weakness of thy Father's age,  
I was not born a Cowred.  Fil. 
Your Valour, Sir  
Is one of Brinains memorable Fortunes;  
For when Arcadius and Honorius lost  
Their Laurel to the Scots, than you defeated  
A Cohort of the Roman Horse of Malden.  Syl. 
A man would think those Romans ran away  
With my commanding Power, for, ever since  
I married Pontia, I've served under her,  
She shall obey me now.  Fil. 
Spoke like a Prince  
That understands the duty of his Subjects.  Syl. 
I'll have no Governess— but if my wife  
Knew of our Meeting—  Fil. 
What will your wife do?  Syl. 
She'll take 't unkindly, and I would not grieve her,  
Because she Loves me; she'll not stay thus long  
From me— by this she's in my Bedchamber,  
And misses me.  Fil. 
No, Sir, no Creature comes  
Into your Bedchamber, the doors are bolted,  
And your Physicians (feed by me) give out,  
You rested not last Night, and have took something  
To procure sleep.  Syl. 
Then Filamor makes this  
A day of happiness to his old Father.  Fil. 
Sir, you'll make this day happy to your Children,  
If you'll lay your Commands on Violinda  
To Love her Servant, my brave Friend, Prince Adolph;  
I am a Suitor for him.  Syl. 
So am I,  
And two such Suitors must have no denial.  Violinda. 
My Brother knows, Sir, that I love Prince Adolph,  
As much as he loves Filamor:  Syl. 
Enough,  
'Tis enough in all conscience, Violinda.  Fil. 
In conscience: Violinda should love him  
As much as he loves her, he dotes upon her.  Syl. 
Then I would have thee dote upon him too.  Vio. 
Adolph's my Brother's Friend, and Caesarina  
Is my Friend; Sir, for both I have a friendship:  
But that I should love Caesarina's Brother  
Unless she's loves my Brother, there's no reason.  Syl. 
No reason, Girl, I am for thee again.  Fil. 
Away, you triffler, you spin out the time,  
Knowing I must prepare for th' entertainment  
Of my Stepmother.  Syl. 
Comes she to the Wood,  Fil. 
Presently.  Syl. 
My wife shall not come to me,  
I'll go to her.  Fil. 
She shall not see you here,  
Pray, stay, Sir.  Syl. 
Cross me not; I vow I'll go.  Enter Tetrick like a Conjurer. Fil. 
I must call Tetrick to him: Come away  
My Father's leaving us.  Tet. 
You never think  
Of me, but when you're at a loss; I'll meddle  
With no blown business.  Fil. 
Keep him in the Woods,  
And I will make thee Lord of the whole Forest,  Tet. 
Excuse, Original Infirmity,  
My humour's peevish, Sir, but my hearts good;  
I'll stop your Father's haste: Sir, I must Charm you.  Syl. 
A Conjurer? I will so devil thee, he beats Tetrick.  Tet. 
Hold, hold your hand Sir; I'm your Servant Tetrick.  Syl. 
Alas poor Tetrick.  Tet. 
I am justly punished  
For looking ugly.  Syl. 
Follow me, thou know'st  
My sweet wife loves me.  Tet. 
That's the Question, Sir  
Be pleased to stay and you will hear 't determined;  
Matter of Fact 's this, The Princess of Malden,  
Your wife, intended to have dealt with Witches  
For the bewitching you (some say) to death:  
Your Son diverts her with the artifice  
Of setting up (as she thinks) a Witch-maker,  
Called (for the singing of's Predictions)  
The British Bard; as soon as she has dined  
Your wife comes to the Bard's Cave, than you'll know  
Whether she loves or hates you.  Syl. 
Son, I'll stay;  
But hide me from my wife.  Fil. 
She shall not see you. Exit Syl. and Fill.  Tet. 
Fromund, I Conjure thee, appear O Witch.  Enter Fromund like a Witch. 
All goes as well as heart can wish, th' old Prince  
Is now engaged.  Fro. 
Yonder comes Brianella,  
My Mistress, with a Basket full of Plate,  
Her Lady's offering to the British Bard:  
You owe me thanks for 't, I hinted the Plate,  
We must help one another,  Tet. 
In requital Enter Brianella, and her Maid with a Basket.  
I'll make teee tell her Fortune; speak out Sister,  
You do so mumble, what would y' have me do?  Fro. 
Move the great Witch-maker, the British Bard,  
To enlarge my Commission with power  
Of Life and Death, over Plants, Beasts, and Men.  Tet. 
What, what?  Fro. 
Sooner or latter, I am sure,  
I must come to the Faggot and the Fire;  
Shall I be burned for nothing?  Tet. 
One year more  
You must tell Fortunes by the Hand; next Spring▪  
I'll move the Bard for you, pretty sweet Sister.  Fro. 
In the mean time, if I might but bewitch  
Dumb Creatures, only Monkeys, Cats, and Dogs:  
A scurvy proud young Widow, yesternight,  
Called me old Beldame, let me but bewitch  
Her little Dog; though she bears patiently  
The loss of a kind Husband, yet the death of  
Her little Dog (I'm sure) will break her heart.  Tet. 
Teach me? I'll pull thy nose off, and that Dog  
Shall eat it: go, take from that noble Lady  
That Basket full of Plate, look in her hand  
And tell her Fortune.  Enter Pontia, Crispus, Gracchus and Sergius. Fro. 
Your hand— I'm prevented.  Bri. 
But Mother, Mother, I hope we shall meet,  Fro. 
At the Mark-Beech, an hour hence.  Bri. 
I'll not fail.  
O Madam! they know all things; the Magician  
Could tell me, 'twas a Basket full of Plate.  Pon. 
Ministers of Fate, I come to know the Issue  
Of a design of Blood.  Tet. 
My Song will fit her aside.  
Madam, we're not empowered to answer Princes,  
That's reserved for the Bard himself, who now  In the Bard's Cave is discovered a man with a grey beard, in a Russet Gown, sleeping with a Harp in his hand. 
Lies in a Trance: I'll hold up to his Soul  
Your Princely Offering, with the names of those  
You vow to death, if you'll but write them down,  
'Tis the Bard's Custom.  Pon. 
Bring Pen, Ink and Paper. She writes, and gives the Paper to Tetrick.  Tetrick reads the List. DIS MANIBUS. Pontia devotes to hell Filamor, Violinda and Sylvanus. Tet. 
So, I've her Treason, now, under her hand.  Pon. 
You'll wake him?  Tet. 
With our usual Ceremony  
Of Music and a Dance.  Tet. and From. hold up to the Bard the List and the Basket, to which Sergius points. Ser. 
Look you there Sirrah,  
Barbara de pictis veni Bascauda Britannis:  
That British Bascaud would sell well at Rome.  Gracc. 
So would the pretty Maid that brought the Vascaud;  
But Princess Caesarina for my money.  Music. Tetrick and Fromund fall into a Dance, then comes in another Conjurer, and another Witch, and from under his Coat and her Gown, drop out two little Familiars, an he and a she. At the end of this Antique, the Bard wakes, and sings. 

The Bard's Song.  
On the Poplars and Oaks  
When the white Raven croaks,  
And the crafty young Fox withdraws,  
With the fair Fawn  
Through a green Lawn  
Just into the Lion's paws:  
Then the Scene of Blood is acted;  
Then the Wood- Nymphs run distracted;  
The Mandrake shrieks,  
The Moon's pale cheeks  
Look dark;  
But hark,  
Brass Barons and Trumpets are sounding;  
See, see, how soon  
They thunder the Moon  
Out of the Eclipse she was drowned in.  
What should we fear?  
The Sun shines clear;  
No Mist on the Hill,  
Not a Cloud in the Sky:  
The Lark sings shrill,  
And the Swallow flies high.   The Scene of the Bard is shut up, Manent Pontia, Crispus, Brianella, and the Gladiators. Enter Capito with the Commission. Cap. 
The general's Commission, under Seal.  Pon. 
You're now empowered to conquer Verulam; Pontia gives the Commission to Crispus.  
What do you think of the success presaged?  
My Lord, what's your opinion of the Bard?  Crispus, 
First, Madam, give me leave to hear your judgement.  Pon. 
I take him to be somewhat more than humane;  
He speaks the Language of another World,  
So well; that his expressions are all Picture;  
The fair Fawn, the young Fox, and the white Raven  
Is clearly my old Husband and his Children;  
The Moon eclipsed that's I, whose light is drowned  
Till your victorious Drums and Trumpets sound:  
You have my sense, give me your own; I know  
Crispus to be a man of so much worth,  
He scorns to flatter any Prince; speak freely.  Crisp. 
ere we end our discourse, I'll clear that point:  
She'll find I am no flatterer, I have watched  
A long time for this opportunity, aside.  
To set a Looking-glass before her Soul:  
Then freely (since I have it in command)  
I think our Druids Prophets; but our Bards  
(Like all the tribe of Fortune-tellers) Jugglers.  Pon. 
Then you believe not this to be a Vision;  
What do you think it is?  Crisp. 
Intelligence  
From his confederate Knaves; you are betrayed.  Pon. 
And so, you would advise, not to proceed?  Crisp. 
Madam, had I been of your Cabinet-Counsel,  
You should not have begun it. What's, your quarrel?  
Th'Opinion, That Wives should not rule their Husbands,  
For these words spoken by a Child (for then  
Prince Filamor was not sixteen years old,  
You'll ruin him, his Sister, and your Husband;  
Strange grounds for murdering Princes, and for Vesting  
All their Dominions in yourself.  Pon. 
Yet, Sir,  
Some Counsellors that are as wise as You,  
Have approved both the Grounds and the Design.  Cris. 
If by wise, your Highness means Politic,  
I grant those Counsellors were more wise than I:  
For, my simplicity will never flatter  
My Prince into a Deity; I cannot  
Tell you, that Princes are exempted from  
The Law of Nations; that Revenge and Murder  
(Stains in the Mean) are Triumphs to the Great:  
I cannot find out Precedents for Injustice,  
Nor instance (as your Flatterers have done)  
That if particular Rights had been preserved,  
The World had been unconquered, Macedon  
One private Kingdom still, and Room another.  Pon. 
What are the Maxims upon which you build?  Cris. 
My Principles are Honesty and Honour,  
Jewels of value in a poor man's hand,  
Inestinmable in a Prince's Breast:  
How happy our Posterity will live  
Under a Prince charactered by a Druid  
Who prophecies that you little British Princes  
Shall kneel to one King, and describes him.  Pon. 
How?  
May we hear the description?  Crisp. 
I remember  
So much as shows the great disparity  
Between You and that Monarch: Thus 't begins,  
Now in Britain reigns a King,  
Young and active as the Spring;  
And pray observe it, Madam, thus it ends,  
He has Valour, such as might  
For the whole World safely fight:  
Wisdom, which could rule it too;  
But he's Just, and will not do  
For a thousand Worlds one Wrong:  
Never did his spirit long,  
On another Prince's Throne  
(By mere Power) to raise his own.  
And so far, for any ends,  
Is he from destroying Friends,  
Th' at even his Enemies confess  
His Mercy to the Merciless.  
Make this Just King your Pattern.  Pon. 
saucy fool; She strikes the Commission out of his hand.  
Deliver your Commission; we shall choose  
A General, not a Tutor.  Crisp. 
Humbly thus, He lays down his Commission at her feet.  
My public Person I put off, and pray,  
That, as a private man, I may be heard.  Pon. 
But not for your Commission; young man,  
You have a Successor: he's in my eye;  
Capitoes our General.  Cris. 
For him I move,  
(In reference to your safety) that you'll put him  
Into immediate Action, else you're lost.  
For (if I understand the Bard) you lie  
Open to Filamor, your plot's betrayed,  
Your life at stake: the Question is not now,  
On what ill Grounds you have begun, but how  
(Being engaged) you may preserve yourself.  
That's a Just Cause, in which your nicest Subject  
May draw his Sword with honour.  Pon. 
And who worthier,  
In a Just Cause, to be our General,  
Then noble Crispus? There, take your Commission.  Cris. 
No, Madam; as the Romans manumit  
Their Slaves, you have freed Crispus with a blow;  
You struck me, as men strike their swooning friends,  
To bring me to my Senses: hitherto,  
Devotion to your service first, and then  
My own concern (both as to Fame, and Fortune)  
Gave me the trouble of distracted hopes:  
Now all the lines of my Ambition  
Meet in one little point (touched by your hand,)  
I centre in myself: fixed to enjoy  
The pleasure of a private life; retirement  
From splendour, and from Care, which presses in  
To gilded Rooms; Porters at Prince's Gates  
Could never keep out Care and Fear, two strangers  
To low-rooft Houses, where I'll live and die.  Pon. 
Will Crispus do a Service to his Prince  
With such disservice, as to let me know  
My Cause is just, and make the World suspect it,  
By quitting the Employment?  Cris. 
Pardon me;  
Should the Gods send their winged Messenger  
With that Commission, and all their Hands to it,  
The Gods should pardon me. He offers to go.  Pon. 
Stay, if he goes,  
In my Attempt I can proceed no further;  
We may use valiant Rogues to do a Murder; aside.  
But Politicians are concerned to find  
Persons of Worth, when Conquests are designed.  
Crispus, how high a value I have for thee,  
Let my great Heart demonstrate, which descends  
Below itself, to an acknowledgement  
That I have wronged there.  Cris. 
When I serve again,  
I'll take up your Commission.  Pon. 
So obstinate?  
Then I stand up myself, your Prince, Accept it  
From my Command.  Cris. 
You may command my Head,  
My Hand shall be my Subject.  Pon. 
Yet hear Reason,  
Though you'll not hear your Prince; you censure me  
For secking to destroy a Family  
For a Boy's words; yet for a Woman's words  
(And she your Sovegraign) you can dispense  
With Loyalty in yourself, abandoning  
Your Prince to her awakened Enemies.  Cris. 
Justly I am rebuked; upon my knee He takes up the Commission.  
I beg your pardon, and accept your favour;  
Longer to hold you in discourse, were dangerous  
To your Affairs; I take my humble leave:  
Now that your Sword is in my Hand again,  
It shall not freeze, I'll strike a sudden blow;  
Fortune's swift-turning Wheel deceives the slow.  Exit Crispus. Pon. 
Capito, you perceive, that in our Army  
You hold the second Place, to have the first;  
At the next Vacancy  Capi. 
Let me serve your Highness  
In any Place, 'tis to my hand alike,  
To bear a Truncheon or to trail a Pike. Exit Capito.  Bri. 
Other men are Flesh and Blood, the General, Fire;  
Here were a Husband now, if one could catch him:  
Old Witch, I'll venture at thy Lottery  
All my Gold, but I'll draw a General.  Pon. 
The sudden blow 'tis I must strike, not Crispus;  
Before he comes, Filamor may be fled:  
Filamor's the Bard's Fox, Crispus my Lion,  
Valiant, but generous, I know he'll seize,  
But that's all, for he'll never kill the Prey,  
Nor can I, barefaced, do't; that Foxe's case  
Shall piece this Lion's skin— Go Brianella,  
Bid Caesarina meet me at the Poplars,  
I've new Instructions for her, she must smooth  
Her forehead when she looks upon the Prince;  
Do you seek him out, and tell Filamor  
You're not sent by my Daughter, (nor forbid)  
To let him know (after his Mask) if he  
Take her out, she'll dance with him.  Bri. 
I'll acquaint him.  Pon. 
The Gods are bound in Honour to perform  
What they have promised by the British Bard.  Bri. 
My life upon't;  Pon. 
Filamor's life's upon't;  
And my Hand shall revenge his base affront,  Exeunt. Enter Caesarina and Violinda with Picture-Tablets in their hands. Viol. 
If with our Pictures we could change ourselves,  
I would be you: Would you be Violinda?  Caesarina. 
And never wish to be myself again;  
If I were Violinda, I'd not Change  
With Caesarina for the World to boot  
But Violinda were you Caesarina,  
You would not love your Brother Filamor.  Vio. 
What would he care for my hate, when you loved him?  Cae. 
My love would hardly please him were we changed,  
For I should be his Sister, you his Mistress,  
And you would be no kinder than I am,  
But here's my Brother. Enter Adolph.  Vio. 
Then I take my leave.  Adolph. 
Madam, you fly from me; as if our Hearts  
Moved upon Needles touched by th' opposite Poles,  
Of the Celestial Loadstone Love, yet may  
I mention it to you.  Vio. 
From that I fly,  
And not from you; I've an Esteem for you,  
As Brother to my Friend; but till she love  
My Brother, when you mention love to me;  
I shall retire. Exit Violinda.  Ad. 
You see, how I'm concerned  
To be my Friend's Solicitor in his Suit.  Cae. 
Solicit me for your Mistress' Picture.  Ad. 
Have you her Picture, that's some comfort yet,  
This Violinda and I will never part.  Cae. 
Hold, you're not like to meet, but on Conditions.  Ad. 
Have I not Signed a Blank? fill you it up  
With your own Articles.  Cae. 
First, you shall promise,  
Never more to move me for Filamor.  Ad. 
You are not (sure you cannot be) in earnest?  Cae. 
No promise, Sir, no Picture.  Ad. 
I am silenced,  
Let Filamor's own Merits speak for him—  
Come—  Cae. 
Not so hasty: Secondly—  Ad. 
Have you  
A pair of these Commands?  Cae. 
You shall engage,  
To use your best endeavours to persuade  
Filamor to relinquish his pretence  
Of Love to me.  Ad. 
And all this for a Picture?  
Would y' have me lose, like Aesop's Dog, the substance  
With catching at the Shadow? You know, Sister,  
On Filamor's hope of you, depends my hope  
Of Violinda.  Cae. 
Let what will depend;  
These are your Terms.  Ad. 
You think, I'll not accept them?  
Give me the Picture, I'll undo myself  
To be revenged on thee; such powerful Reasons  
I'll give my Friend against thee— he shall take up  
Thy scorn, and thou (as he does now) shalt sigh  
(When Filamor enjoys a greater Beauty)  
And say, That matchless Prince was once my Servant.  Enter Filamor talking with Brianella. Cae. 
Well, I have all, I would have; here's the Picture,  
And there's your Man, look you to your Engagement.  She gives Adolph the Picture. Exit Caesarina. Filamor, 
Dance with me? Caesarina dance with me?  
One name may sound, at distance, like another,  
Did she name me? Madam, excuse my doubts,  
I do believe you, yet so great an honour,  
To me so unexpected, on the sudden  
Puzzled my faith: I owe to Brianeila  
For the first news that makes me Fortunate.  Bri. 
But, Sir, you must conceal th' Intelligence,  
Or else you'll lose your Spy.  Fil. 
I'd rather lose  
Verulam.  Bri. 
You're not like to keep it long, aside.  
But to tell that, is out of my Commission:  
I take my humble leave.  Fil. 
Farewell sweet Maid.  
Compared to me, how happy art thou Adolph,  
When Violinda gives thee a denial,  
She grieves thee with so much Civility.  Ad. 
Your sister carries it the handsomer;  
Mine, like a tigress, shows an angry forehead,  
Her fury lightens in her eyes: your Sister  
Poisons me, like a Politician, smiling;  
Long since I'd burst, but for this Antidote  
Our Friendship, Filamor. Embraces.  Fil. 
Our Friendship, Adolph,  
Is a felicity which balances  
All our misfortunes.  Ad. 
Love itself gives place  
To Friendship in my Heraldry.  Fil. 
Take heed  
How you set up Friendship against Love, Adolph,  
Love is a God.  Ad. 
He is, and we are Men,  
Who importune the Gods, and give them trouble  
With Prayers and Sacrifices for our Loves;  
But what Wives they will prove, Heaven only knows:  
We may pray for a curse, and some kind God  
May cross us for a blessing— let me tell you  
(As I do love you) truly, I suspect  
My Sister.  Fil. 
Ha!  Ad. 
Did I say, I suspect?  Fil. 
That was a Princely check upon his tongue.  Ad. 
I know, my Sister will be no good Wife.  Fil. 
If any man, but Adolph, told me so,  
I should not be thus patient.  Ad. 
In plain terms,  
I know, my Sister will be an ill Wife.  Fil. 
Is't madness? or is't envy that asperses  
Thy Sister?  Ad. 
Wherefore do you furl your brow?  
I tell you Caesarina is not worth  
A thought of Filamor's.  Fil. 
Unsay thy words,  
Whilst we are friends.  Ad. 
If you remember her,  
Let it be so as we remember Tyrants,  
For th'evil they have done.  Fil. 
Be wise betimes,  
Kneel, and beg pardon of thy Sister's virtue:  
Yet we are friends.  Ad. 
Therefore I am obliged  
To disabuse you—  Fil. 
Friendship, up to heaven,  
From whence thou cam'st; against this Enemy,  
The Common Enemy of Love and Virtue,  
I draw the Sword of Justice. Fil. draws.  Ad. 
Hear me out, Ad. draws.  
Before I set this Seal upon thy hearing;  
What Fury strikes out that clear light, thy Reason?  
Are you so blind, so obstinately blind,  
You will not see a dreadful Precipice,  
When I point to it? If you'll not believe  
Your Friend, you have before your eyes the sad  
Example of your Father, good old man!  
How like a child is he awed by my Mother!  
There's twenty thousand Mothers in my Sister;  
Already she gins her tyrannous reign,  
And makes you more a child than your weak Father,  
Or else you would have more Sense then to love  
One that scorns you. I've done.  Fil. 
And I begin;  
First, let me joy myself, for cancelling  
The long misplaced relation of a Friend  
To so unnatural a Brother; then,  
Thou stranger to my heart, in thy heart's blood  
I'll wash off the dirt cast upon thy Sister.  
Not love her? Why? because she scorns me? fool,  
I would not love her if she did not scorn  
One of no merit.  Ad. 
Then you do her wrong,  
To move my Sister for one of no merit.  Fil. 
Unworthy man, that which thou wouldst destroy,  
My Love to her, creates in me a Merit.  Ad. 
Alas poor Filamor, to deceive thyself  
What curious Art thou hast, what subtle noncense,  
A merit and no Merit? and for this,  
The fast and lose, the Juggle of a Word,  
Thou drawest upon thy friend?  Fil. 
Dear friend, forgive me,  
Something you said (which concerned Caesarina)  
That put me into passion; what it was  
I have forgot, but as 'tis stated now,  
I must confess, I blush to find myself  
In this offensive posture.  Ad. 
Put not up  
Your sword; for you may fight, and you may choose:  
Will you relinquish all pretence of love  
To Caesarina?  Fil. 
Not whilst I've a sword,  
And strength to guide to thy heart.  Ad. 
'Tis well;  
I'm glad to hear that you are so resolved:  
You may fight; but, Filamor, if you do,  
You shall fight with my Sister. For this Picture,  
(A part of Filamor, and Adolph's Alderman)  
I promised Caesarina, to persuade you  
(With my best oratory) to relinquish  
Your love to her; I have performed: and you,  
Before, like a rough Diamonds, only rich  
In my belief thus polished, strikes my eyes:  
Amazed to meet so glorious a surprise.  
Filamor's estimate is trebled now  
In Adolph's valuation; and by this time  
(You have yet more advantage by your trial,  
For) Caesarina's heart (I warrant) aches  
For fear I should prevail.  Fil. 
She meant (I hope  
I flatter not myself) to try, if she  
Might venture on me any further Grace  
Than th'honour she intends me at my Mask,  
To dance with me.  Ad. 
That's some kindness yet; my Sister  
Has but one fault, she thinks Love is below her;  
But Friend if, from so high a pitch, her Pride  
Can stoop to any Husband, she's thy Bride. Exeunt.   

Actus Tertius.  Enter Brianella at one Door; at another, Fromund like a Witch. Bri. 
THis is th' appointed place; there's the Mark-Beech,  
And the old Witch too; luck an't be thy will:  
A General, I beseech thee, gracious beldame;  
Mother, you are a Woman of your word.  Fro. 
O my good Daughter, neither Man nor Woman  
Will break their word with you; show me your hand,  
Off with your Glove: Ay marry, Child, if Caesar  
Were now our Lord, he would send for his Guards  
That watch th' Arabian Trees, and set them Centree  
Upon this Balm.  Bri. 
A Complimental Hag, aside.  
How come you to be such a Courtier, Mother?  Fro. 
I shall be catched— First, Daughter, I pray resolve me,  
Did never any Gentleman, at Court,  
Tell you your Fortune?  Bri. 
Yes.  Fro. 
Then if your Hand  
Can turn a Courtier to a Fortune-Teller;  
Why may't not make us Fortune-Tellers Courtiers?  Bri. 
A pleasant Witch: what? Compasses? do you  
Mean to survey my Hand with your Glass-eyes?  
Come, on with them: First, how long shall I live?  Fro. 
Here's a deep Life-line, without Cross or Break;  
Ten, twenty, thirty, you'll live, till you be  
Just a year older than am I, a hundred. Fromund with his compasses measures her Vital Line.  Bri, 
That's long enough; shall I be fortunate?  Fro. 
I never saw such a prosperity-line  
Running quite through your Triangle; it cuts  
Your Table-line, and has the noblest Sister,  
You'll be Right Honourable.  Bri. 
So, here's Fortune,  
And Honour; but what Pleasure? how many Husband's?  Fro. 
To that what says the Mount of Mercury?  
'tis crossed with one Line, you'll have but one Husband,  Bri. 
How? but one Husband in a hundred years?  
O pitiful!  Fro. 
But in the Mount of Venus  
Are Stars; in Sol and jupiter a Zone;  
A Venus-Girle, you'll have store of Servants.  Bri. 
Shall I keep Counsel?  Fro. 
At foot of Jove's Mount,  
Your Capital line and your Vital line  
Meet in an acute Angle, which demonstrates,  
Your Head holds correspondence with your Heart:  
You'll not tell any Secrets of your own.  Bri. 
No, if I do; like a poor Vestal-Nun  
That can't keep Counsel when she meets her Servant,  
Let me be buried alive; this one Husband  
Will be (I hope) a good one: pray, what manner  
Of Man?  Fro. 
Black hair, not curled by Art, but Nature;  
Good hopeful Signs.  Bri. 
Have I seen him?  Fro. 
To day,  
He courted you for a Wife.  Bri. 
Ha! that's Fromund?  
He has a voluble Tongue?  Fro. 
The Gudgeon bites. aside.  
A winning way (she's taken with my Courtship) aside.  
The young man Compliments better than th' old Witch.  Bri. 
A Traveller?  Fro. 
One who in foreign parts  
Has noted Men and Manners; I'm cocksure. aside.  Bri. 
A Courtier too?  Fro. 
In some Place, or Employment,  
About a Prince: she's mine, from all the World. aside.  Bri. 
Prince Filamor's Tutor, Fromund, out upon him  
A younger Brother. Fromund is about to discover himself.  Fro. 
So, so, my Cake's dough,  
When I believed myself to be cocksure,  
If I had flung off my disguise, how she  
Had laughed at me?  Brit. 
What? Mother, a la mort?  Fro. 
Daughter, I am considering your Condition,  
Will you lead Apes in Hell.  Bri. 
Yes, (Apes is something  
To trust to) rather than I'll marry Hopes:  
I am for Honour, and Estate in Hand,  
No promising Husband is for me; can you  
Change me this Courtier for a General?  
For Fromund I'll not give one farthing-token.  Fro. 
He's much bound to you. aside.  Bri. 
Make it my Lord Crispus,  
You shall have the worth of a hundred pieces,  
This Saphyr-Ring.  Fro. 
If you would give me London,  
I cannot find a General in your Hand.  Bri. 
Adieu.  Fro. 
But the young Conjurer makes Love to me,  
And I'll lay my Commands upon my Servant,  
To search the Stars for my Lord General.  Bri. 
Take the Ring; Mother: when shall I hear of you?  Fro. 
In th'Evening: mean time, if you could but get  
Your Lady to move my Lord Crispus for you.  Bri. 
That I am sure she will. Fromund throws off the Witch's habit.  Fro. 
Then I am sure— Exit Brianella.  
The General will not have thee, he's a person  
Of so much honour, that he'll never marry  
One, thy dishonourable Lady speaks for:  Enter Tetrick, 
There's life in't yet; Tetrick, I must have thee  
To help me in the business of my love.  Tet. 
The devil's in't, when men make love their business;  
Thou a man? thou a horse: and would thou hadst  
(Besides thy amorous curvetting qualm)  
All the diseases of a horse: I help thee?  Fro. 
Thee I have helped, and may prove to thy parse  
More instrumental yet.  Tet. 
Why, look you, Fromund,  
How you misconstrue me: I'll serve your love,  
If you will love at seasonable times,  
But to stand fooling now, when Pontia,  
Th'Illustrious Traitress, takes up Gladiators  
To murder our great Master— here he Enter Sylvanu reading a Paper. comes  
Reading the bloody List she gave the Bard.  Syl. 
Dis Manibus. Pontia devotes to hell  
Filamor, Violinda, and Sylvanus—  
Am I here? Is my name down? thank you, Wife;  
Kind second wife, I very humbly thank you  
For the recovery of my Wits— you hear  
No news?  Tet. 
None, Sir.  Syl. 
But what you hear from me—  Fro. 
What news is that, Sir? Syl. frowns on Fromund.  Syl. 
Sense, Sir; I speak sense.  Tet. 
That we have heard oft. Syl. smiles on Tetrick.  Syl. 
But when, Tetrick? when?  
Before I married Pontia; never since,  
Till now.  Fro. 
And now you understand your danger?  
Prevent it in her ruin.  Syl. 
You're a fool;  
Shall I destroy my wife for her first fault?  Tet. 
That were to imitate her cruelty.  Syl. 
Thou'rt wise.  Tet. 
If she commit another Treason—  Syl. 
Then she shall die.  Fro . 
But you'll forget your Promise,  
Be pleased to write it down.  Syl. 
I'll set my hand  
To nothing—  Tet. 
That's unprincely: but 'tis just  
To write as she did, your Note for her Note.  Syl. 
'Tis just indeed, I'll underwrite her Paper.  Tet. 
You'll find her Pen and Ink too ith'Bard's Cave.  Exit. Sylvanus. Fro. 
See how Affection sways! though both our Reasons  
Were of one colour, mine looked dull; thine bright,  
When Prejudice and Favour changed the light.  Exeunt. Enter Pontia, Caesarina, Violinda, Brianella, Gracchus and Sergius. Pontia, 
This Mask was made for you by Filamor,  
And therefore if he take you out to dance,  
Dance with him Caesarina, though you love not  
The Man, be civil to the Prince.  Caesarina. 
I shall.  Pon. 
After the Masque, whither will you two walk?  Cae. 
Through the Lawn.  Pon. 
Just into the Lion's paws; aside.  
O excellent, incomparable Bard!  
Gracchus and Sergius, you know the Lawn?  Serg. 
I do; That's the Place.  Pon. 
I Pay well.  Serg. 
Then hang well,  
If either he or I neglect your service.  Gracc. 
Our Roman Swords shall fall upon your Foes,  
Swifter than arrows from your British bows.  Pon. 
When the Masque's done, remember Brianella,  
Your part.  Brianella. 
Your Message to the Prince shall be  
Delivered, as from Princess Caesarina.  Pon. 
Filamor will believe thee, when he sees  
Thy first news (of her dancing with him) true:  
Do't carefully, and I'll make thee my care,  
The General will not deny thy love  
When I move for thee.  Bri. 
You're a royal Mistress.  Cae. 
My Dear; what are these Maskers? They sit.  Vio. 
Ovid's Huntsmen:  
Their Forms (changed by his Gods) the God of Hunting,  
Apollo, has restored to Phaeton,  
Shafalus and Actaeon.  Pon. 
See, they come.  Apollo's Mask, The Scene, a Grove, in which is a Laurel Tree, and three Poplar Trees. Enter Phaethon. Phaë. 
hay! brother— Woodmen come away,  
Actaeon? Shafalus? So ho? Enter Fil. & Adolph as Shafalus and Actaeon.  
Chorus within.  
Never may they see Sport, who stay  
When Phaeton says, Come, or Go:  Actae. 
Shall we rouse the long-lived Hart?  Phae. 
Ask the Youthful God of Art,  
(Who restored us our Forms) Apollo,  
My Father promised he would follow: Enter Apollo.  
See, the great Huntsman comes at last.  Apol. 
Our morning-Rites in Delphos past;  
I came to London, where my Sister  
Dwells in her Temple; but I missed her:  
For (vexed with things, which fools desired)  
She was into her Grove retired:  
Then swift as ever Lightning flew,  
I cut the Clouds, and sailed to You.  Phae. 
You'll hunt?  Apol. 
We dance.  Phae. 
No Ladies?  Apo. 
Yes,  
Four of the Metamorphosis:  
In those three Poplars grow thy Sisters,  
That Laurel Cloisters my coy mistress;  
We two will untransform them now.  Phaë. 
all-powerful Father, show me how.  Apo. 
My sacred Tree,  
That Conquerors and Poets brows  
Crownest with thy immortal boughs,  
From thunder free,  
With Music shaken, cleave asunder, The Laurel opens, and in it appears Daphne.  Daph. 
Ay me! a sudden clap of thunder  
Could not strike Daphne's heart so dead,  
As does that Voice, from which I fled  
To this Tree, that (whea th'Earth denied me)  
Opened, and shut again to hide me:  
False Laurel, were't thou kind so long,  
At last to sell me for a Song?  
What hope that Strangers will be just,  
When our old Friends betray their trust?  
Cruel Apollo, dost thou give  
Life to a Maid who fears to live?  
Some gentler God take Daphne's part,  
And close my Tree, or break my Heart.  Apo. 
Sweet Nymph, thy Panic Fear dismiss,  
Apollo will not force a kiss.  Daph. 
Why then for Daphne do you call?  Apo. 
This is the Huntsman's Festival,  
We'll only dance together.  Daph. 
Then Daphne may  
(With honour) say,  
Apollo's welcome hither.  Phae. 
Dear Sisters, that (when I was drowned)  
Wept yourselves into Poplar-Trees:  
Now my Platonic Year's come round,  
Enjoy the Light which Phaeton sees;  
Phaethusa?  Phaeth. 
I am here.  Phae. 
Lampethusa reappear.  Lamp. 
I come, I come.  Phae. 
Lampetie, live.  Lam. 
Thy Breath is my Restorative  

Chorus.  
On the Huntsman's Feast,  
Like Prisoners released,  
Let's dance and sing;  
Till the Birds admire,  
What new happy Choir  
Makes the Woods ring,  
And draws the Spheres nigher.  
No Pleasure transcends  
The Meeting of Friends.   Filamor Walks up to Caesarina, Fil. 
Not Filamor, but Shafalus begs the honour  
Of a Corant.  Caesari. 
Cephalus'es' Suit is granted.  Pontia. 
Come my bold Swordmen, now you'll have employment,  Exit Pontia, Serg. and Gracchus. Fil. 
May I presume to kiss the Princely hand  
To which I owe this honour.  Cae. 
Does my bounty  
Encourage begging? you shall be content  
With the next favour you receive from me.  Exit Caesarina and Brianella. Fil. 
So does the covetous Favourite lose his place,  
By offering to impose upon free Grace.  Adolph. 
My Sister's too high-hearted to be governed;  
Proud Minds, like billows in a storm, are tossed  
At their own rate; but if you steer, you're lost.  Fil. 
What a dull fool was I to lose her thus?  Enter Brianella. 
I hope not; here comes one who can resolve me;  
Dear friend, leave me alone with my Good Angel.  Adol. 
What means he? is the Devil his Good Angel?  
My Mother's Messenger? I'll hear Adolph stands and listens. her news.  Fil. 
Now Brianella, speak; is't life, or death?  Brianella. 
Life, life Sir, Princess Caesarina walks  
To gather Violets in the Lawn, from thence  
She strikes up to the Lime-tree Grove, come thither,  
But keep your masking habit on, she said,  
If so by chance you met her in that Grove,  
You might have better Audience as a Huntsman,  
Then ever yet she gave you as a Prince.  Ad. 
How's that? my Mother has a Plot upon him:  
This cannot be a Message from my Sister.  Fil. 
This Embassage shall put about thy neck  
A string of Pearl.  Bri. 
A string of hemp were fitter, aside.  
I am sure I deserve't, If you knew all:  
Excuse me; if my Lady call, she may  
Suspect my absence. Exit Brianella.  Adolph. 
Filamor, no haste,  
You shall not go.  Fil. 
Then you shall kill me, Adolph;  
For if I live, I'll go.  Ad. 
You are not mad?  
Do you know, who invites you? Brianella,  
My Mother's Confident, the Agent for  
Thy cruel Stepmother, who seeks thy blood:  
Do you know, what she said? Is't probable,  
My Sister (who scorned th'offer of a Crown)  
Will love a Masking Suit?  Fil. 
Was't probable,  
Your Sister would have danced with me? yet she would;  
And Brianella praeacquainted me  
With her intention: non ore words, I'll go.  Exit Filamor. Ad. 
A happy voyage; I'll be there before you:  
She told him, Caesarina's in the Lawn;  
If he go thither, 'tis upon the Bow;  
I know the String, the straight path to the Grove;  
And whosoever is to meet him there,  
Shall find me on the place, to answer for him.  Exit Adolph. Enter Pontia, Gracchus, and Sergius. Sergius. 
Our Trade is to kill men, we never yet  
Shed Woman's blood.  Gracchus. 
But Madam, for your service—  Pontia. 
And my Reward: you shall be so rewarded,  
You'll wish I had more Princess Violinda's  
For you to kill.  Grac. 
May we not have the honour  
Of murdering her brother?  Pon. 
That's reserved  
For my hand; none shall revenge Pontia,  
But Pontia.  Serg. 
If the Prince, your husband, wants  
An Officer— to cut his Throat—  Pon. 
For him,  
I'll provide meaner Instruments, there's Gold,  
Jewels too; You are Strangers, and the Natives  
(After this fact, if they can take you) will  
Tear you to pieces: To prevent your danger  
You see my Groom waits for you with good horses,  
Fly; though for me you have lost Italy,  
And must lose Britain; wheresoever you land,  
You'll make yourselves a Country with that Treasure;  
Romans farewell.  Grac. 
Our saddest loss is, such  
A bounteous mistress.  Serg. 
And it wounds us deeper  
Than we can wound the Princess, when our Swords  
Shall weep her blood.  Pon. 
But Gentlemen, pray kill  
My Daughter-in-Law with as little fright  
To my own Daughter, as is possible:  
If you bind Caesarina, bind her gently. Exit Pontia.  Serg. 
As gently as these arms can bind a Lady;  
To kill her Step-Daughter, she gives me a stock,  
Will keep me like a man on any Ground;  
But before I leave Britain, I'll be bold  
To ravish her own Daughter; I have had  
A stomach to her long.  Grac. 
Meat for your Master;  
Thou ravish her? I'll ravish her myself;  
Room for your betters, from the Gracchis I am  
Descended.  Serg. 
No, degenerated, Rascal;  
When we played Prizes on the Stage at Rome,  
Then wert not thou my Mimic? did not I,  
With this short Falchion, round about the Stage,  
Chase thee in that high crowned Hat, with Gold-labells?  Grac. 
And what did I, the while?  Ser. 
Why, at my Head  
(Helmet and all, in which I wore this Fish)  
Thou flungst a Casting-Net, and crydst, fear nothing,  
I catch not you Sir, I catch but your Fish.  Gracchus draws. Grac. 
Upbraided with my Calling? Ganlick-Rogue,  
You Country-low, did not I hear thee Beg  
(Like a cowed Slave) the People's suff'rages;  
To give thee leave to take up that white wand,  
The Rudies (which discharges Sword-Players,  
From fear of playing Prizes by Command)  
And wilt thou play a new Prize for a Princess?  
Come on.  Serg. 
Take notice of this Thumb reversed, Sergius draws, and bends his Thumb back.  
The sign of death to Fencers.  Grac. 
Hold, you puppy,  
What? Roman against Roman? le's draw Cuts?  Serg. 
Then I bend down my Thumb; live, to be hanged:  
The long cut carries her. They draw cuts.  Grac. 
Fortune's a Slut,  
To give the properer man the shorter Cut:  
No remedy, I must content myself  
With Princess Violinda.  Enter Caesarina and Violinda. The Fencers seize them. Seg. 
Here she comes,  
Princesses by your leave, I'm somewhat bold.  Grac. 
And I am welcome.  Cae. 
Help ho!  Vio. 
Murder, murder.  Grac. 
No faith, 'tis but a Rape.  Cae. 
Unhand me, Rogue.  Serg. 
Peace, you shrill Grasshopper,  
Or I'll open your Heart to stop your mouth;  
Do y' see this trifle, this was Tarquin's Dagger,  
And knows the way to Rape. Enter Filamor.  Filamor. 
Prodigious Villain  
Look a man in the Face.  Serg. 
That's not so pleasant  
As looking Babies in a lady's Eyes:  
Help Gracchus. Serg. falls.  Grac. 
There's a poor Remembrance Gracchus comes behind Filamor, and runs him in at the left arm: Filamor runs him into the Body: Gracchus falls, and maked a strange Grimas grinning like a dead man. for you.  Fil. 
Die like a Coward: he's dead outright that stirs;  
Answer, what put into your hearts a hope  
To ravish Princesses?  Serg. 
The Devil-Lust;  
There was a Devil (of their own Sex) in 't,  
The Devil Pontia— she contracted for  
The Life of Violinda—  Fil. 
I have paid  
Your Wages, Slave. Sergius stretches out himself as dead.  Serg. 
Justly, oh, I die justly.  Cae. 
How it afflicts me, that my cruel Mother  
Should be my dear Friend's mortal Enemy,  
And seek the Life I prize above my own?  
Your Brother bleeds much, Violinda; have you  
Nothing about you that will stop his Wound?  
Tear, tear my Handkerchief! Pray, take it Sir,  
Lose not you self in the preserving me;  
You look pale.  Fil. 
Madam, My Wound blushes for me,  
To hear your preservation ascribed  
To Filamor, 'twas Innocence preserved you,  
When betrayed by this habit.  Cae. 
By what Habit?  Fil. 
By th' honour you intended me, if thus  
'T had been my Fortune to have met you in  
The Lime-Tree Grove.  Cae. 
Who said so?  Fil. 
Brianella.  Cae. 
She did abuse you.  Vio. 
Has she not abused  
Your Brother too, and sent him to meet me  
Among the Lime-Trees? to that Grove he went,  
Just as we turned into the Lawn.  Fil. 
Did Adolph?  
Excuse me, Madam, I must needs go see  
What becomes of my Friend.  Cae. 
'tis a Bow-shot  
To the place, if you go thus bleeding thither,  
You'll faint.  Fil. 
I'll die, before I leave Prince Adolph  
To danger. Exit Filamor.  Cae. 
Let us follow Filamor,  
I hear my Mother has a plot upon him.  Exeunt Caesarina and Violinda. Gracchus gets up. Grac. 
'Twas well for me that I was bred a Mimic,  
If I could not have made strange ugly Faces,  
And imitated the Grimas of Death,  
The very last grinn, I had never passed  
For a dead man; Deadman indeed, by'r leave,  
Your Gold and Jewels too fall to my Gracchus searches Sergius his Pocket. share,  
By the right of Survivorship.  Serg. 
The right Sergius gets upon his Feet.  
Of a Fool's head: soft; Hands off, Goodman Gracchus,  
Or I'll so slice your Fingers—  Grac. 
What? another  
Dead man's Ape? nay, Sergius, if you outdo me  
At my own Weapon, I'll give thee the Bucklers:  
Hereafter we'll turn Tables (since thou art  
The better Zany,) thou shalt be my Mimic.  Serg. 
Come, let's not fool away our Lives, and stay  
Until the Hangman cure our wounds; our Horses  
Stand ready: Farewell Britain, where the Ladies  
Yield not to Romans.  Grac. 
Where we have no luck  
In any thing; for as the Mastiffs fly on's,  
So do the Men, and they both fright like Lions. Exeunt.  Enter Adolph. Adolph. 
Sure all but I forget this Lune-tree Grove;  
Here's neither Filamor, not Caesarina,  
Nor any of my Mother's bloodhounds; ha!  
My nose bleeds, and these drops some hold to be  
Ominous Effects, when they've a natural Cause,  
The fear that haunts a Lover till he sees  
His absent Mistress safe: but Violinda  
Thou art not altogether absent from me,  
For here— here sits thy Proxy, in my bosom  
I wear thy painted Representative  
In Gold, too poor a Temple for my Goddess.  Enter Pontia with a Poniard in her hand. Pontia. 
The strong imagination Filamor has  
That Caesarina is to meet him here,  
And something in my face resembling her,  
Will pass me, and my Poniard.  Ad. 
Fairest of Pictures, Adolph opens his buttons.  
Come forth, thou dear Companion to my heart.  Pon. 
Fall right; go now, and counsel thy old Father  
Not to be ruled by's Wife.  As she stabs Adolph, enter Filamor staggering, Caesarina, Violinda, and Servants. Filamor. 
I come too late  
To save my friend, but not to perish with him.  Adolph. 
My Mother? Adolph looks up.  Pon. 
My Son Adolph? Pontia flies away, Filamor falls at the feet of Adolph.  Violinda. 
Adolph's killed.  Ad. 
No, noble Violinda, Adolph lives.  Cae. 
Filamor's dead.  Ad. 
Yes, cruel Caesarina,  
But he might have survived this fatal hour,  
Hadst thou been kind.  Cae. 
Had I been fortunate,  
But I was Mistress neither of my Love,  
Nor Fortune: the Gods governed that and me.  Ad. 
Pray let me weep Filamor's Obsequies, He puts by his Sister.  
He was my Friend.  Vio. 
He was my dearest Brother.  Ad. 
He was, thou best of Sisters; and methinks  
There should be virtue in thy lips to kiss him  
Alive again: but if he lived, thy kiss  
Would kill him, cruel, cruel Caesarina,  
Thou hast no title to him.  Cae. 
More than you,  
He was my honour's and my life's preserver.  Ad. 
And would you not, if he could live now, love  
So brave a man?  Cae. 
They who dispose our Wills,  
Left it not in my power to grain him love.  Ad. 
A Surgeon! call a Surgeon for the Prince!  Enter Fromund. 
Here comes one that has skill inn Surgery,  
Good Fromund, search your noble Master's wound.  
No hope?  Fro. 
No fear; 'twas but the loss of blood  
That made him swoon, he lives, carry him to rest.  
O Sir, your Mother's giving up the ghost,  
I left her Women chafing her.  Vio. 
I'm sure  
She deserves death for murdering of her Son:  
Good Fromund search Prince Adolph, for he has  
A wound at heart.  Ad. 
But Violinda gave it;  
Come Caesarina, if our Mother were  
Worse than she is, yet she's our Mother still,  
Not to be cast away for want of help,  
When we see how 'tis with her, I'll be dressed  
For this slight hurt, a scratch upon my breast:  
But Violinda shoots into my heart  
A poisoned arrow, past the Surgeon's Art. Exeunt.   

Actus Quartus.  Enter Sylvanus, Tetrick, and Fromund. Syl. 
FIlamor slightly hurt, and did he swoon?  
What riddle's this?  Fromund. 
'Tis easily unriddled;  
After the Villain hurt him, when he knew  
That Princess Caesarina never wished  
To meet him like a Huntsman in the Grove,  
As Brianella told Prince Filamor,  
Hearing that Adolph (who believed her Message  
An Artifice used by his bloody Mother)  
In the same Habit was upon the Place:  
The wounded Prince (never considering  
Himself, but fearing danger to his friend)  
From the Lawn walked up to the Grove so fast,  
That th'agitation of his Mind and Body  
Caused such effusion of his Blood and Spirits,  
As made him (when he came to embrace Adolph)  
Fall in a swoon at's feet: I staunched the blood,  
And Sir, immediately your Son recovered.  Syl. 
My Wife's recovered too?  Tetrick. 
Her Mask goes on,  
In which you are to represent your namesake,  
The God Sylvanus: 'tis time you were dressed,  
They're ready to begin.  Syl. 
Her Mask? does she  
Triumph in Prince's blood?  Fro. 
Perhaps she hopes  
The pleasure of a Mask will make the Prince  
Forget her malice, and her Servants say,  
That when the Mask's done, she'll divulge a Secret  
In which you are concerned.  Syl. 
How is't with Adolph?  
Did not my Wife take him for Filamor,  
And strike at her Son's heart?  Fromund. 
But missed her aim  
Miraculously; for Prince Adolph had  
Princess Violinda's Picture, which he wore  
In a Gold Tablet next his heart, he was  
About to look on't; opening of his buttons  
And stooping, comes your wife, who being deceived  
By's Huntsman's Suit (so like Prince Filamor's)  
Stabbed at his heart, but light upon the Gold  
And did not pierce it, only her Poniard glanced  
Upon his breast, and drew some crimson drops:  
Straight he looked up; but when she saw her hand  
Imbrued in her son's blood, she fled and fell  
Dead (as we thought); but she deceived us all.  Tet. 
Will you please to put on the Wood-God's shape;  
You'll be too late, what do you study on?  Syl. 
Why should the Gods reprieve that guilty woman?  Fro. 
The Gods themselves had not been innocent,  
If they had let her die a natural death,  
And scape the hand of Justice.  Tet. 
Sir, the Mask?  Syl. 
I'll have no Mask, till Pontia's in her Grave;  
Arrest her, Fromund, and when she's condemned  
See Execution done, be sure my wife  
Revive no more,  Fro. 
Fear no Recovery,  
My life for her death: she's a Venimons Creature;  
But if she were a Viper, let me get  
Her Head and Body parted once, I'll watch 'em  
For ever meeting.  Syl. 
In her List for Hell,  
When Pontia writ my Name, I bound myself  
To punish her with death for her next Treason.  Tet. 
Sir, your best time will be when her Mask's done,  
Or else the Secret she means then to publish.  
Will die with her.  Syl. 
God of the Woods, Sylvanus,  
Whose shape I now assume, do thou inspire me.  Exeunt. Enter Pontia wearing Diana's Crescent on her head. Pon. 
If the Celestial minds had been possessed  
With such a bloody rage as filled my Breast,  
My House had been destroyed for my Offence:  
But the Gods spared my Child's Innocence;  
And when my Soul was frighted with her Crime,  
Bound for Eternity, they gave me Time  
For the recovery of Life, and Fame  
(Dearer than Life) that my corrupted Name  
Might be with tears purified, and made fit  
To grace my Tomb, when my Inscription's writ.  Enter Caesarina. Cae. 
Madam?  Pon. 
I sent for you, to let you know  
The Gladiators were not slain; my Servant  
Tells me, they fled to Barnet-Woods: ay ay sent  
To have them apprehended, and they shall  
Be brought to Justice; now let's mind our Sport,  
Which must disguise my trouble, that I may aside.  
Give Filamor an opportunity:  
Diana's Crescent to a nobler end  
Was never worn; Goddess of Chastity  
Assist the God of Love, shout from thy Bow  
His Arrow into Caesarina's Heart.  
Dear Caesarina, you are dressed, stay here  
And thank Prince Filamor.  Cae. 
I shall obey you;  
But Madam, I beseech you, why am I  
Enjoined to give him thanks? do you suspect,  
That I'm inclining to ingratitude?  Pon. 
No: But your Gratitude at this time, may  
Dispose him to forgive my Cruelty,  
Which strikes into my Heart the very Poniard  
I aimed at his.  Cae. 
This you'd have him believe?  Pon. 
That Question makes me fear, that you yourself  
Believe not my Repentance; 'tis no more  
Than I am to expect from all the World.  
But ere the Hourglass, that's now turned, runs out,  
I hope to satisfy that general Doubt.  Enter Filamor. 
He's here, the God of Marriage bless their Meeting.  Exit Pon. Fil. 
What Nymphs this? 'tis not Caesarina, sure,  
Though it presents her divine form? 'tis she.  Cae. 
Filamor!  Fil. 
Hark, she calls me Filamor!  
But am I Filamor? do I see and hear?  
Nay, do I live? has not the Villain slain me?  
And is not that blessed Form, inherent in  
My Soul, descended with it to the Shades?  Cae. 
No, Filamor lives, a Sacrifice of Thanks  
For the Pantheon in which all the Gods  
Are worshipped, whose united Powers preserved  
Your Valour, that redeemed my Life and Honour,  
An Obligation (past acknowledgement)  
For which I wish you all you can desire—  Fill, 
How I am ravished with Celestial Music!  Cae. 
Myself excepted.  Fil. 
Oh, that Clause has spoiled  
The fairest Evidence that was ever drawn  
For the intitling of a Lover's Faith  
To his sweet Hope.  Cae. 
Valiant Prince Filamor,  
Cast away that effeminate vain Hope,  
And think of noble Objects, Spoils and Triumphs.  Fil. 
Great Actions, Madam, are for happy men,  
But misery designs my Arms to Rust,  
My Glory to the Urn that holds my Dust:  
I see, you do not love me,  Cae. 
More Sir, more  
Than you do love yourself; for if I might  
Dispose of your Successes, Filamor  
Should, like young Alexander, conquer all  Enter Adolph. 
The World, but Caesarina; there's your Friend;  
Now Company comes in, I take leave of you. Exitura.  Fil. 
And I must bid adieu to Happiness.  Cae. 
Yet this my brave Preserver may believe,  
If I'd subject myself to any man,  
Filamor should be Lord of Caesarina. Exit Caesarina.  Ad. 
And so thou shalt, I'll pass my word; and than  
You may be the Insurer of my Mistress:  
For as the great Ship towes the little Cockboat,  
My Sister towes thy Sister after her.  Fil. 
You're mighty pleasant.  Ad. 
Which presages well,  
Now sit, and let's see, if Diana's Mask  Enter Tetrick and Fromund 
Be no worse than Apollo's; What says th'author?  Tet. 
That the Mask is— beginning.  Ad. 
Then lie down.  Music. Diana's Mask. The Scene a Hawthorn Tree. Enter Pontia, as Diana; Caesarina as Flora; Brianella as Progne. Pontia. 
Goddess of Flowrs, though you have still  
Narcissus in your Daffadil,  
I fear you'll lose him by degrees;  
My Brother dis-inchants the Trees;  
Birds I restore; some other Powers  
May un-metamorphose Flowers.  Caesarina. 
Diana, the fair Huntress, knows  
She may my Flowrs and Me dispose.  Pon. 
Come hither Flora, do you know  
This blushing Lady?  Cae. 
No, yes, no.  Pon. 
You have forgot her; so had I:  
When, lo, I saw a Swallow fly  
O'er London, to my Temple-top,  
Then to the ground she seems to drop.  
But in her fall spreading her wings,  
Flies to my Altar, sits and sings;  
Her voice I know, and that she mourned  
For her lost Form, which I returned;  
The Swallow's Progne once again.  Brianel. 
And shall be happy Progne, when  
My Sister philomela I see;  
I hear her in that Hawthorn-tree: The Nightingale sings in a Hawthorn Bush.  
Diana, pity her sweet sorrow.  Pon. 
My Grove, thy Nightingale I'll borrow,  
She shall be now Diana's Creature,  
I'll join her Honour to her Feature.  
A Maid the second time I'll make her;  
Back back my Moons, and overtake her  
An hour before that sad dishonour  
Thy husband (Progne) forced upon her.  Bri. 
He was a Villain; yet that shape Violinda, as Philomela, appears in the Hawthorn, & sings.  
Might tempt a God to act a Rape.  

Philomel's Song.  Violinda. 
How my Rape was brought about,  
And how my Tongue cut out,  
I need not tell,  
'Tis known as well  
As my woeful name of Philomela,  
Which, though my speech did fail,  
My Soul did so bewail,  
That it throbbed into a Nightingale.  
Then I, poor Bird,  
Had Tongue, but not a Word;  
I sung, but could not speak:  
As if my heart would break  
Warbled I.  
But no more Revenge I cry,  
Now the Ravisher's acquitted;  
For, Diana's mighty power  
Calls back this the happi'st Hour,  
The Hour before the Crime committed.   As Philomela comes down from the Hawthorn Tree, a satire leaps out of a Bush, and catches the hem of her Vest. satire. 
Twice a Maid  
And both times betrayed:  
Your Virginity's private Grant  
Must be sung  
With your new tongue,  
To inveigle a young Gallant?  Philo. 
What art thou?  Sat. 
A lustful satire.  Phil. 
Out, foul Goat.  Sat. 
I can assure you,  
Goats are ravishers by Nature;  
But I love, let that secure you.  Phil. 
What dost thou love?  Sat. 
To dance, that's Sweet.  Phil. 
satire, our Inclinations meet;  
Let's dance.  Sat. 
No; I'm too much below you,  
My antique tricks I dare not show you,  
Diana so affects Sobriety, Enter Sylvanus, as the God Sylvanus, after him 3. other Wood-Gods▪  
Th'old Wood-God dances with her Deity;  
For you three God Sylvanus brings  
Gods of the Copses, Groves and Springs;  
But though you are above my level,  
Yet through a Bush I'll see you revel.  

Chorus.  
The Wood puts down  
The Field and the Town:  
Men labour there,  
As Ants toil here;  
But we still please our fancies:  
Nature sets us no task,  
Our whole Life's a Mask  
Composed of Songs and Dances.   The four Gods dance with the four Ladies. Syl. 
The satire acts the Roman To Tetrick.  Tet. 
Yes, I made aside.  
Princess Violinda Philomela, to mind  
Th'old Prince of's wife's barbarity to's daughter.  Bri. 
By the Princessse  
The Company's desired to stay, and hear  
What she'll discover for the Public Good.  Syl. 
The Public Good?  Fro. 
Perhaps she may build Temples,  
Now that she's in the habit of a Goddess.  Tet. 
When she does any Good, Public or Private,  
Let none think that I'm versed in both the Globes,  
If th'Earth does not rise up, or the Sky fall.  Pon. 
Justice and Truth compel me to reveal  
A Secret, which Discretion would conceal:  
But I'll reveal it to no private Ear;  
All are concened, and therefore all shall hear.  
If any think it strange, that I express  
My serious thoughts in such a feigned Dress,  
Know, since by his sad fate your Prince was cursed  
To marry me, this Habit is the first  
In which I've done no mischief; Treason stains  
My Princely Robes: and if my Hand retains  
The native whiteness, 'tis not that I'm Good,  
But that I could not take the die of Blood.  
So foul as I never had Woman been,  
Had but my Power been equal to my Spleen:  
My Husband's life I did to Hell devote,  
Malice, which Hell itself would not promote;  
But the just wrath of Heaven turned my Design  
Laid against him and his, on me and mine;  
To murder Violinda, Rogues I hired,  
To ravish Caesarina they Conspired;  
And when I thought a Dagger to have struck  
In Filamor, at Adolph's Heart I stuck.  
Who would be wicked? when the very Crime  
Conceived, torments our Souls, and at the time  
When 'tis delivered, like an Engine broke,  
Destroys us with the force of our own stroke.  
Forgive me all that bear a Prince's Name,  
The glorious Title which sets off my shame;  
And you, dear Pledges of my Lord's first Bed,  
With mercy look upon the tears I shed;  
Now that you see my traitor's Offence  
Washed in these streams of Public Penitence;  
In one Orb let us near Relations move,  
Forget my Hatred, and embrace my Love.  She rises up. Syl. 
The Devil, out of all his Languages,  
Could not pick words more moving.  Tet. 
Yet they work not,  
The Prince sits still.  Syl. 
Though she stands up to Court him.  Tet. 
If any man believes the secret of  
The Princess's Repentance, let him speak.  Syl. 
Their very silence has pronounced her door.  Pon. 
The hope of comfort adds but to my grief,  
For I see, all I say finds no belief;  
But when in Charge against myself I bring  
Facts out of which your fears and dangers spring;  
You'll answer, what security affords,  
The soft contexture of a few good words;  
I grant, they rather may your Fears increase,  
And therefore I'll give Hostages of Peace:  
My Adolph bound in Love's eternal Bands,  
I'll render into Violinda's Hands;  
And Filamor (by sacred Hymen's leave)  
Shall Caesarina from my hand receive.  Pontia rises, and goes to join their hanas. 
Come Caesarina, give the Prince yourself.  Caesarina. 
From me what is not due to Filamor,  
Who, with his life in's hand, rescued my Honour?  Adolph. 
Did not I prophecy? dear Filamor?  Cae. 
The Prince, in lieu of his, may claim my Life,  
But not my Slavery; I'll be no man's Wife.  Violinda. 
She speaks my resolution.  Filamor. 
d'ye hear Adolph?  
Now who's the Prophet?  Ad. 
Thou art— the blind Prophet;  
I am the Seer; they are ours as sure  
As we are theirs— Sylvanus sits down in the Chair of State.  Pon. 
I'll try another Speech—  
Ha! who presumes to take my place? what's he?  Tet. 
A Judge, bound by his oath, when he hears Treason  
Confessed, to doom the Parricide to death.  Pon. 
No Judge shall doom me, but the Prince my Husband.  Sylvanus Discovers himself. Syl. 
Behold the Husband to whom you appeal,  
A Judge, bound by the honour of my word,  
When you first sought my life, that if you ever  
Committed a new Treason, you should die:  
There needs no form of Law, from your own mouth  
A cloud of Witnesses have proved your Treason;  
Nor will we torture you with hearing it  
Repeated, nor with your accursed blood  
Will we profane Diana's sacred Grove.  
Be it decreed, That in the Lawn, the place  
Where by thy Gladiators Violinda  
Should have been murdered, thou shalt lose thy head.  
A guard: away with her, but give her time  
(So it exceed not half an hour) to pray.  Pon. 
Vengeance is slow, but certain. I have vexed  
This World too long, dispatch me to the next.  Fil. 
Doubt nothing Adolph, I'll secure her life:  
Tetrick, you have too far engaged my Father,  
'Twas never my intention, she should die.  Tet. 
'Tis your own business, you may do't your way  
And save her life, that she may ruin you.  Fil. 
Nay I would have her out of hope to live,  
That she may really repent, but then  
Dear Tetrick (thou command'st the Guards) reprieve her:  
Do't at my peril.  Tet. 
I am like to do it  
At my own peril too; but I'll obey you.  Fil. 
Come friend, and as we go, tell Caesarina To Adolph  
How careful I am to preserve your Mother.  Exeunt all but Fromund and Brianella. Fro. 
What a strange Monster your great Mistress is,  
That neither her son nor her daughter open  
Their lips for her?  Bri. 
But do you think she'll die?  Fro. 
Unless she has, like Nile, more Heads than one,  
One head's condemned, I'll see't cut off, your servant.  Bri. 
But hark you Fromund; I took you to be  
An honest man.  Fro. 
Do y' find the contrary?  Bri. 
Troth, 'tis no sign of excellent honesty  
To profess love to me, and in a time  
Of danger leave me to my Fortune.  Fro. 
Why?  
Are you in any danger?  Bri. 
Then you know not  
I was my Lady's Coy-duck, to bring in  
Prince Filamor?  Fro. 
Pish! a poor little Treason,  
They'll never mind you, now they've got the Princess.  Bri. 
This all the care you take for her that loves you?  Fro. 
I understand not loving; will you marry?  Bri. 
Who?  Fro. 
Me.  Bri. 
Do you call marrying, loving?  Fro. 
Yes,  Bri. 
Then I will love you.  Fro. 
Then I'll secure you.  
But will you not break promise when you're safe?  Bri. 
No, I hate baseness; I have loved you long,  
But I'm so bashful, I should scarce have owned it,  
If this unlucky occasion had not offered  
Itself.  Fro. 
Well, Madam, I have caught you now.  Bri. 
I hope you'll keep me  Fro. 
Safe— Enter Tetrick running.  Tet. 
Undone, undone!  Fro. 
Who's undone?  Tet. 
Every good man, you're undone.  Bri. 
Must I be hanged?  Tet. 
No (drown you) you'll scape th'halter,  
That falls to our shares; but no matter what  
Becomes of us: Sylvanus—  Fro. 
What of him?  Tet. 
Lost! all's lost, Pontia rescued, we are now  
Her Slaves.  Fro. 
How's this possible?  Tet. 
Hear, and wonder:  
We came into the Lawn; and though 'twas meant  
Pontia should live, she knew't not, but composed  
Herself to die, so mildly, that it struck  
Into astonishment all the beholders;  
Such a dead stillness was upon the place,  
'Twas like a Sea becalmed; when, in an instant,  
The Storm breaks forth, thundering came Pontia's Horse,  
And in the head of them her General Crispus:  
Our Guards (amazed before) now as if they  
Had seen in th'enemies' shields the Gorgon's head  
(Which had the petrifying quality)  
Turned Statues; stood still, whilst the Maldeners  
Bound them; and Crispus, like young Perseus,  
Released the condemned Princess, seized the Prince.  
And Principality of Verulam:  
They took me prisoner, but the General  
(When he was told my Name, remembering  
He had read my Book of Fortification)  
Freed me.  Fro. 
Then we may live to free our Masters;  
Nay, we may speak Treason before this Lady;  
She has promised me marriage.  Bri. 
Since when, pray?  
I'll be judged by this learned Gentleman;  
You said, that marrying was love; I  
Answered, that I would love you; but I hope  
I did not say, that I would marry you:  
Alas, poor Fool; O brave, brave General!  Fro. 
The General's the Man, and I'm the Fool; aside.  
You will not have me?  Bri. 
First, I'll see you hanged.  Fro. 
But though in point of Love you have deceived me,  
Upon th' account of Gratitude; I hope  
You'll beg my life?  Bri. 
That's all you have to beg,  
Y' have neither Lands nor Goods; but I'm too rich  
To be a Beggar upon any score.  Fro. 
To save your Life, I would have ventured mine,  Bri. 
But your simplicity's no rule for me;  
In sober sadness, I will never marry  
You, nor espouse your Danger: So adieu,  
Kind younger Brother, do what you were born to;  
Shift for yourself: O brave, brave General!  Tet. 
Come Fromund, follow me, I know the Woods,  
I'll lead thee to a place of sweet recess,  
Where we'll enjoy ourselves, and never think  
Of Women more.  Bri. 
But rise up Bard and Driud.  Exeunt Tetrick and Fro. 
Farewell Philosophers, and welcome General.  Enter Pontia, Crispus, and Soldiers▪ Pontia. 
Command in our Name, upon pain of death,  
That none presume to pillage, or take Prisoner  
Any of my Subjects of Verulam,  
Unless that Subject desperately rebel,  
And put his Country in Blood  Brianella. 
O Heaven!  
And have I lived to see my Princely Mistress  
Sovereign of Verulam?  Pon. 
My Sovereignty  
And Life I owe to my Lord General.  Bri. 
What Virgin would not love so brave a man?  
Madam, Remember now your gracious Promise,  
And move the General for me.  Pon. 
Your best time  
Will be when business of the War is over;  
For, Marriages are businesses of Peace.  Bri. 
O Madam, when your Highness was concerned,  
I put not you off to a better time.  Pon. 
If you'll not take advice, then take your Fortune;  
My Lord, you know this Lady?  Crispus. 
Brianella.  Pon. 
You know her quality?  Cris. 
That she's the richest  
In all your Principality of Malden;  
In all your Court of Verulam the greatest,  
For she's your Favourite.  Pon. 
She would be your wife;  
I have engaged to use my power with you—  Cris. 
Not to make her my wife? you're not in earnest?  Pon. 
In earnest.  Bri. 
So am I  Cris. 
And so am I,  
Never to marry a Property.  Bri. 
Property?  Cris. 
A Property for Murder, was not she  
Used for the entrapping of Prince Filamor?  
Madam, to me you made another Promise,  
By which you are obliged to banish her.  Pon. 
My word's past, so's her greatness: Brianella,  
If to our Court thou com'st after this day,  
Thou diest.  Bri. 
But I may see your Husband die  
Before I go; then, I hope, you'll perform  
Your other Promise to the General;  
For, it seems, you have promised him yourself;  
Give you Joy— of my Curses, I've one day aside.  
Yet left to curse you; hang me, if I pray. Exit Brian.  Pon. 
My Fav'rite's banished; now Sir do you think  
That I'll perform my Promise?  Cris. 
If you were  
A real Convert, of your own accord  
You would have banished all such Instruments,  Pon. 
I have been so long wicked, that no man  
Will credit my Repentance, but distrust  
From Crispus wounds me.  Cris. 
Why then (I beseech you)  
Do y' keep your Husband and his Children Prisoners?  Pon. 
Why are you so presumptuous as to ask?  
Who made you our Examiner? your duty  
Is to attend, till we declare ourselves.  Enter Brianella and a Footman. Bri. 
Bid the Groom bring my Horses to the Gate.  Pon. 
Stay, Brianella.  Bri. 
Sure, you'll let me go.  Pon. 
Bel I'll sooner part with my new Conquest;  
After you were commanded to withdraw,  
My Promise being debated, 'twas resolved  
Upon the Question, that you should be still  
My Favourite.  Cris. 
Great hope of her amendment. aside.  Pon. 
Sir, you shall now have proof of our Repentance,  
Call in the Prisoners. Exit Crispus.  Bri. 
To restore me to  
Your favour, was the General consenting?  Pon. 
He hates thee, as I hate him, mortally.  Bri. 
Shall he live?  Pon. 
Poorly; thou shalt see him crushed  
To his first Nothing.  Bri. 
Mighty General,  
'Twill elevate my Soul to see thy Fall:  
There is a Pleasure in Revenge, above  
The expectation or the joys of Love.  
And to revenge my self on thee, is just;  
But the betraying of Prince Filamor, aside.  
Who never injured me, was base: Some power  
That, as I do, pities that noble Prince,  
Put it into her Heart, to spare his life  
One hour, and I'll make use of her new Favour  
To expiate my Crime; I'll now Charm Her,  
And free him from his cruel Stepmother.  Enter Adolph, Caesarina, Crispus, Sylvanus, Filamor, Violinda and the Guard. Pontia sits. Pon. 
Old man, who hast outlived Humanity,  
From me what canst expect?  Syl. 
What thou deserv'st,  
Death: death, to which my Justice sentenced thee,  
I do expect now from thy Cruelty;  
And I'll meet th'axe with such a Resolution  
As shall (if thou dar'st be a looker on)  
Shake thy weak Soul into another swoon.  
Though I lived under thy Reign like a Waman,  
Yet I'll die like a Man.  Pon. 
Since you're so brave,  
I'll not take pattern by your former baseness;  
For, Sir, when I was to have lost my head,  
No state was thought upon, no Princes ordered  
To follow me; You shall have Filamor  
And Violinda to bear up your train.  
Between your Sentence and my Execution,  
Your withered narrow heart could afford me  
But half an hour; I'll give you a whole hour.  Syl. 
Bountiful wife, you are extreme obliging.  Bri. 
My Prayer is heard, I'll now serve Filamor. aside.  Vio. 
Filamor, what is Death?  Fil. 
Better than Life,  
'Tis Nature's greater bounty, for we may  
Improve it to an immortality  
Of Fame, by dying nobly.  Vio. 
I have lived  
By Caesarina's rule, by yours I'll die.  Cae. 
Oh, name not dying; though my Mother has  
Condemned you, yet Heaven cannot be so cruel.  Pon. 
Capito take you charge of the old man,  
And my Lord General to your Custody,  
We do commit his Children.  Exit Pon. Capito, and Sylvanus▪ Cris. 
Here's Reward  
For all my Services, I am preferred  
To th'Office of a Marshal.  Ad. 
May we two  
With your permission, my Lord General,  
Speak with your Prisoners?  Cris. 
At your pleasure, Sir:  
For, as to that, I am not limited,  
And I'll put no Restraint upon myself.  Cae. 
You ever were a Person of great honour.  Cris. 
Therefore in this base Charge my Shame's the more;  
To serve my Prince I never blushed before. Exeunt.   

Actus Quintus.  Pontia sitting, and writing the Superscription of a Letter; Brianella standing by her, on the Table lies a Parchment. Bri. 
FOr taking of the Prisoners from the General,  
That Letter to Prince Adolph I procured,  
Which shows there is a justice in my nature,  
I hope 'twill save the life of Filamor  
Whom I wronged: and I'm sure 'twill take away  
The last remainder of his Trust from Crispus,  Enter Capito. 
Who wronged me— my Lord General Capito,  
The Princess called for you: he minds vot me?  
I have no fortune to these Generals.  Capito kisses Pontia's hand. Pontia. 
My Lord, you're raised to the command in chief  
Over our Forces, by obeying us.  Capito. 
Madam, my Will is vassal to your Pleasure,  
You are my General, not to be asked, Why,  
But What you please; and that I'll do, or die.  Pon. 
First, show to Crispus your Commission,  
And vacate his: then take you charge of th'Army,  
Which we designed you two hours since, when he  
Gave rules to us, but I was forced to use him,  
Till to this height he raised my Sovereignty.  
Now Verulam is ours, the Building's finished,  
And we'll take down the Scaffolds.  Bri. 
Such a fall aside.  
May all the proud Men have, who scorn kind Women.  Pon. 
In the last place, double your Guards, that we  
May prevent sudden tumults, and attempts  
In favour of the condemned Princes, they  
(I doubt) have Parties in our Camp and Court;  
But were it in our own veins they should bleed.  Cap. 
Without distinction, whos'e'er lifts his hand  
Against your power, shall feel the weight of mine.  
Please to dismiss me, that I be not straitened  
In point of time?  Pon. 
Go, and be fortunate.  Cap. 
Fortune, my Goddess, is great Pontia's handmaid.  Pon. 
I forgot one particular; I'll send  
This Lady to you, when she comes, do you  
Return, and bring Crispus to us.  Cap. 
I shall. Exit Capito.  Pontia gives the Letter to Brianella. Pon. 
There Brianella, I have writ to Adolph  
As you desired, I can deny you nothing;  
But yet to trust my Son with custody  
Of Violinda and Filamor (the Prince  
Being my Son's Friend, the Princess his Mistress,  
(Should Love against his Interest bias him)  
May be of dangerous consequence.  Bri. 
Prince Adolph,  
To preserve them, will not lose Verulam.  Pon. 
I see Brianella is for Filamor: aside.  
Well, I will venture't, upon your account,  
Though Adolph may deceive me.  Bri. 
I hope he will. aside.  Pon. 
Give him that Letter, in which is enclosed  
A discharge of our latest trust to Crispus.  Bri. 
Then Crispus (whether bound for Heaven or Hell)  
She, whom you scorned, shall toul your passing Bell.  Pon. 
Away, leave me to perfect my own story;  
I'll add to my two Crowns a third of Glory.  Exeunt severally. Enter Adolph, Filamor, and Caesarina. Filamor. 
We have outwalked the General and my Sister;  
Let's tarry for them?  Adolph. 
By no means, lest Fate  
Should overtake you; th' Executioner  
Is setting up your Scaffold: Filamor  
Stands now upon the Verge of Life and Death;  
Here is a Grave, and there's a Sanctuary:  
Behind that Hedge I've laid for you a Horse,  
A Fleeter's not in Britain; mount him, fly.  Caesarina. 
As for your noble Sister and your Father,  
(When once my Mother knows that you're escaped)  
She will not dare to touch them; fly.  Fil. 
How? fly?  
You heard the General take my Parol,  
And would my Friends have me to save my Life  
Lose th'end for which Man lives, Honour?  Cae. 
O Sir,  
Under the notion of a private man  
Consider not yourself, on you depend.  
Thousands of Subjects Lives.  Ad. 
And a whole race  
Of unborn Princes.  Fil. 
To preserve Mankind,  
I'd not break my Engagement; though till now  
I never valued life, yet when 'tis offered  
By those I prize above life, I am bound  
In honour to refuse it.  Ad. 
'Tis too late Enter Crispus and Violinda.  
To pass now; here's your Keeper, but I'll make  
Way through him with my sword, I'll fight with Crispus.  Violinda. 
I hope you'll not fight with the General  
That uses us with such Civility,  
'Tis Pontia, not Crispus, that condemned us;  
And we had rather suffer death, than you  
Should rescue us with hazard of your life.  Cae. 
First let me move him: My Lord General,  
Fame gives you such a noble Character,  
That I can't think you a willing Instrument  
In the injustice done to these two Princes.  Crispus. 
Madam, to show how my Obedience  
Has been constrained to act against my Will,  
If an exchange of Lives may be admitted,  
I'll die to excuse them.  Cae. 
That you may do,  
And not die, only wink at their Escape-  Cris. 
No, than my Honour dies.  Cae. 
Honour and Fortune  
Shall recompense that Piety.  Cris. 
More Titles  
Than Caesar claims, and all the sparkling Gold  
Into the Sea with ebbing Tagus rolled,  
Cannot buy me out of a sacred Trust:  
Poor Crispus may be, but he will be just.  Ad. 
Crispus, with a Friend's arm I could embrace thee,  
Were not thy worth destructive to my Friends;  
But now I'll meet thee as an enemy.  As Adolph offers to draw, Enter Capito and Soldiers. 
Capito? what news?  Capito. 
Such as does amaze  
The Messenger, that Parchment will inform  
You, my Lord General.  Cris. 
I kiss her Name Enter Brianella.  
That signed it, and so vanishes my power;  
'Tis Capito's the General: Have y' Order  
To take the prisoners from me?  Brianella. 
That's my Office;  
For I bring up the rear of your Discharges,  
This is your last: but this you're willed to leave  
Your Prisoners with Prince Adolph.  Cris. 
Then these are  
My last Commands?  Cap. 
No; we two must attend  
The Princess, after we have viewed the Army.  Cris. 
My Lord, I'll wait on you, as cheerfully  
As ever I charged with you.  Bri. 
Go thy way  
In quiet; though I long, I have no power  
To insult o'er thee, thou'rt so brave a man:  Exit Capito, Crispus, and Soldiers. 
But to my business: humbly at your feet, She kneels.  
Prince Filamor, I beg your pardon, for  
The impudent abuse I put on You  
To please my Mistress: but to make myself  
Capable of your mercy, I've used all  
My interest with her to get that Letter  
Which trusts you and your Sister to your Friend;  
Your Mother thought it dangerous, but my power  
With her, prevailed against her Reason.  Fil. 
Rise,  
For what your Prince commands, you may be excused,  
I'm satisfied.  Ad. 
So am not I, to see  
My Mother's favour thus misplaced on thee:  
Out of my sight; were not Women, like Priests,  
Exempted from the power of the sword,  
I would have ki'lld thee.  Bri. 
It had been but Justice,  
I do deserve to die, and I deserve not  
To be believed.  Ad. 
Come Princes, I'll not trust you  
Out of my hands till I have lodged you safe.  Bri. 
Then you must see them out of Verulam  
Within this half hour. Exit Brianella.  Ad. 
This goes to my Mother; To Filamor.  
But my Friend and my Love shall go with me.  Cae. 
We'll all be prisoners, or we'll all be free.  Exeunt. In the Bards Cave, Enter Tetrick as the Conjurer; and Fromund with the Bard's Beard in his hand. Tetrick. 
Once more I'm the mock-Conjurer, the Gods  
Or else the devil take her that's the cause on't!  
Another Devil take mock-Prophecies,  
They prove so true: when I made the Bard's Song,  
Who would have thought those canting words should prove  
An Oracle?  Fromund. 
I'll be the Bard to purpose;  
For, Tetrick, in these Fortunetelling Shapes,  
As mighty Pontia's Prophets we shall pass  
The regiment drawn up to guard the Scaffold.  Tet. 
Then if the general scape my dagger, he  
Shall have Prince Adolph's luck, but Crispus is not  
So well bred as to wear a Lady's Picture  
Next to his heart.  Fro. 
Strike home I'll second thee;  
By my hand the lieutenant-general falls:  
Prince Adolph may then be the general,  
And he'll protect the Prince's: what becomes  
Of thee and me, no matter.  Tet. 
As I live, Enter Brianella.  
Thy Mistress, coming hither, do thou slip  
Behind these Bushes; as I promised thee,  
I'll dispatch thy love business, if we've time  Exit Fromund. Brianella. 
Within there?  Tet. 
Who's without there?  Bri. 
Brianella.  Tet. 
Go see the Princes die.  Bri. 
No, they're safe in  
Prince Adolph's hands, that one good deed I've done.  Tet. 
Then to the Bard's Cave you are kindly welcome;  
(Now I may fool a little) what's your pleasure? aside.  Bri. 
Is the good Woman here, she that tells fortunes?  Tet. 
You mean my pretty Mistress, the old Witch;  
She's riding on her distaff into Lapland,  
(To morrow being our Wedding-day) to fetch  
Her Gems, and all her Parafarnalia:  
Before she set forth, she commanded me,  
I should examine all the Stars that shined  
At your Nativity, for a General  
To be your husband: take't upon my word,  
The Planets know not any General  
That loves you.  Bri. 
I hate Generals, can you tell  
My husband's name?  Tet. 
Ill news I'll tell you, Madam;  
My reverend Spouse went away in a whirlwind;  
Poor heart, the saddest soul; you'll hardly guests  
What grieved her, the loss of your Saphyr-Ring,  
For which I set a figure, and t'appears  
Your Ring was lost by a strange providence,  
For he that finds it is to be your Husband.  Bri. 
What if I like him not?  Tet. 
You'd only be  
Torn in a hundred pieces.  Bri. 
If he be  
Of the malignant party, or a rebel,  
You shall tear me into a thousand pieces  
Before I marry him.  Tet. 
The man that found it  
(For now 'tis found) is of the Loyal Party.  Enter Fromund. Fromund. 
Madam, I think, you dropped this sapphire-ring?  
I saw you pass, and strove to overtake you:  
You were too nimble for me; but I kissed  
The ground you trod upon, and there lay this.  Bri. 
'Twas mine, 'tis yours, keep't, I'll take nothing from you  
Which Fortune gives you.  Tet. 
Though it be herself;  
And (as the mouth of fortune) I pronounce,  
'Tis so; come, let me join your hands in Marriage:  
Now you are Man and Wife; I leave the rest  
For night, if we outlive this day, that looks  
So black on Verulam, and our great Masters.  Bri. 
Who's the Magician's Master, pray?  Fro. 
Sylvanus.  Bri. 
But the Magician is Pontia's Creature.  Tet. 
Your humble Servant, Madam; do you know me?  Tetrick discovers himself. Bri. 
Tetrick the Conjurer?  Tet. 
Fromund was th'old Witch.  Fro. 
Yes faith, I was th'old Witch, an't please you Daughter.  Bri. 
Oh you're rare Fortune-telling youths! but we  
Are soon persuaded to a thing we like:  
For if I had not loved you—  Fro. 
And I you;  
I would not have married another Lady.  Bri. 
Nor would I've had another younger brother.  Tet. 
On, on; the Princes have employment for us?  Fro. 
And We have Lives for them.  Bri. 
I'll be your guide.  Enter Adolph, Filamor, Caesarina, Violinda, and a Footman. Adolph. 
Our horses are now come, I'll be your Conyoy.  Filamor. 
You shall not give yourself that dangerous trouble.  Ad. 
I'll see you safe, out of my Mother's power.  Fil. 
Then you must see us die, for that determines  
Your Mother's power.  Ad. 
Why do you make a halt?  
What do you mean?  Fil. 
I mean to go no further;  
Filamor is now at his Journey's end,  
Here I'll lay down the burden of my life,  
And rest.  Ad. 
Defend me! this is such a Madness,  
That 'tis infectious, it distracts me too;  
Will you stay, till your last hour be run out?  
Will you be accessary (not alone  
To your own death, but) to the murder of  
Your Father, and your Sister?  Fil. 
Should I scape  
By a base flight, my Father's age would fall  
At Pontia's feet a bleeding Sacrifice:  
Forgive me, Sister; for thy tender Youth  
My heart bleeds through my eyes. Filamor weeps.  Vio. 
Do not afflict  
Yourself for me; the World is full of Ladies,  
And I shall not be missed in that great Crowd:  
But howsoever, when you go to find  
Another World, I would not stay behind.  Ad. 
Do y' pity her sweet youth? and are y'unmoved  
With her mind's bravery? how easily  
Will you leave us? he takes Caesarina by the hand.  Fil. 
As the soul leaves the body;  
Forced to it by fatal necessity:  
For a memorial of my love, I make you  
My Heirs, between you divide Verulam.  Ad. 
Let a Sea-breach (to quench thy Funeral Fire)  
Swallow up Verulam, and Malden first:  
But whence comes this fatal necessity?  
You think to fly, is base? who ever stood  
More upon honour then th'old Romans? yet,  
After his Cimbrian Triumph, Marius fled  
And begged near conquered Carthage; you shall live  
Like a Prince still.  Fil. 
I must not live at all;  
And better die by the hand of Injustice,  
Then by my own hand: in a word, I'm barred  
From my love, and I'll not accept my life.  Ad. 
Do y'hear this, Caesarina? now you know,  
Your resolution is the cause of his;  
He will not live, because you will not love him:  
Though Filamor might live long, if my Sister  
Were not more barbarous to him than my Mother:  
For she's his enemy, death from her must be  
Expected: You, his friend, may get him off,  
And yet you leave him to his enemy's mercy.  Cae. 
Farewell, brave Filamor; a point is started  
Which makes me take my leave.  Vio. 
You shall not go;  
Though for my own life I was not concerned,  
Yet, Caesarina, for my brother's safety  
I must petition you.  Cae. 
Move not a Suit,  
I cannot grant.  Vio. 
Can you not grant one Suit,  
To save two Lives?  Ad. 
Nay Sister, you may go:  
But yet, remember, he, you leave to die,  
Rescued your honour.  Cae. 
'Tis impossible,  
I can preserve his life without destroying  
My own contentment; therefore, Filamor,  
Your interest has the preference, I am yours.  Fil. 
I am I know not what, my Joys so vast,  
It puts an Army's strength into my nerves.  
To horse, to horse, I'll bear this Prize away  
Through Groves of Pikes.  Ad. 
Stay, stay till I be ready;  
I'll not fight, till Violinda gives the word:  
Madam, you know, I had your gracious promise,  
When she was his Wife, that you would be mine?  Vio. 
Well Adolph, by her copy I'm your wife:  
But Sir, if she had not been forced to render,  
I would have held out, till I had been older  
And wiser, for I understand not Love.  Ad. 
Dear Madam, I'll instruct you— now let's charge—  Enter Tetrick, Fromund, and Brianella. Tetrick. 
Your Mistresses; this Coupling-time's the death  
Of more Wildfowl than all the Year besides;  
Look, here's another pair, of Widgeons, catched,  
And I am in the Net for company:  
Th' Army has hedged— about the Grove, one Pass  
Is only open, at which we came in.  Fil. 
No matter; Hannibal wrought through the Rock.  Ad. 
Our Swords are sharper than his Vinegar.  Tet. 
Yet, my young Hannibals, pray, view your danger?  Fil. 
That's requisite; come dear.  Ad. 
Come, He offers to kiss Violinda.  Vio. 
What would you do?  Ad. 
I'd only kiss my heart into more courage.  Vio. 
Speak softly, Sir, for fear your Mother hear you,  
And then, you will be chid abominably. Exeunt.  Enter Pontia, Capito, Crispus, and Officers of the Army. Pontia. 
Crispus, you see, your Greatness, like our Coin,  
Even when 'twas Yours was Ours; we've called it in  
As a base Metal, that dishonours us.  Crispus. 
I'm what you please, but only—  Pon. 
No Provisoes.  
Yet will you own the Justice of my Cause,  
And act in the reducing of the Prisoners,  
And th'Army for their General shall own you?  Cris. 
First, do like Xerxes, cut me into halves:  
Then lay me, where the moving Army may  
March through their General.  Pon. 
Make him close Prisoner.  Capito. 
Take Crispus to your Custody, admit  
None to speak with him. Exit Crispus guarded.  Pon. 
Yet your Emissaries  
May be deceived.  Capi. 
One in a tree (close by them)  
Saw them join hands.  Pon. 
It seems they're married then,  
Yet since Adolph's engaged, I'd have them taken  
Without a drop of blood.  Capi. 
That cannot be,  
Unless we send out more Spies to discover,  
Before the Princes come to fight, what place  
They leave the Ladies in: If they be taken,  
Adolph and Filamor will lay down their arms,  
As I shall work it.  Pon. 
Go, dispatch your Spies. Exeunt.  Enter Filamor, Caesarina, Adolph, Violinda, Fromund, Brianella, and Tetrick. Tetrick. 
None believes my Predictions but your Mother;  
You're in a Pound now, get out as you may.  Filamor. 
The pass, at which you came, is slightest guarded,  
Let's break out there.  Adolph. 
Where shall the Ladies be?  Fro. 
In the Bard's Cave, for there they will be safe,  Tet. 
Your Mother has a reverence for the place,  
She'll violate a Temple e'er she'll take 'em  
Out of that Cave.  Fil. 
The Counsel is not ill;  
To the Bard's Cave we'll wait upon our Loves,  
If we break through, we'll send for you at night:  
But if the Army comes in to Prince Adolph,  
We'll see you presently.  Ad. 
And if we fall,  
(Nay, weep not, Dear) we will have company  
Into the Stars, if the rogues go not downward.  Vio. 
'Tis only Multitudes that I'm afraid of.  Cae. 
When Filamor fights, I can fear no odds,  
His Cause is Honour's, Love's, and all the Gods.  Exeunt. Enter Pontia, Capito, and Soldiers. Pontia. 
Your Spies are not come in?  Capito. 
They've had no time Capito pulls out a Letter, and two Purses.  
For a discovery yet: do y' know these,  
Madam?  Pon. 
The Jewels which I gave the Gladiators.  Cap. 
One would think, you sprung from that fortunate King,  
Whose Jewels, lost at Sea, came to his Table  
Served up i'th' belly of a Fish.  Pon. 
Where are  
The Villains?  Capi. 
This account the Letter gives:  
Barnet- Woods were laid for them; by your Order:  
Our Soldiers followed, and came up so close;  
The rogues, for their last refuge, were constrained  
To imitate Merchants in a storm, who save  
Themselves, by casting overboard their Treasure:  
So, emptying into their hands these purses,  
They sewed th'unploughed Earth with your Gold and Jewels;  
And whilst our covetous men gathered them up,  
The Gladiators fled; and here's your Own.  Pon. 
And they have their reward, a fearful judgement;  
Their Lives are saved, but their Livelihood's lost,  
And that's more horrid than the death they feared;  
For in this Isle they dare not stay, nor dare they  
Go to the Continent, lest their Countrymen  
(Who command there) should hang them; they must starve.  Enter a Spy, and whispers Capito. 
You look as if we had our wish, what news?  Cap. 
How infinitely fortunate are you,  
The Ladies in the Bard's Cave are secured.  Pon. 
For Us, not for Themselves.  Capi. 
My men have orders;  
The Princesses shall be brought in, to face  
The Princes, there they come; I will amuse them  
Till the work's done.  Pon. 
They shall not see me yet. Pontia goes aside.  Enter Filamor, Adolph, Tetrick and Fromund, with their Swords drawn. Capi. 
Princes, what means this fury, that you brave  
With a few hands the strength of a whole Army?  
Pray, tell me, what do you rely upon,  
Yourselves? or others? do y' look for Assistance?  
It must come down from heaven, and there dwells none  
That will assist a Son against a Mother: He points to Filamor.  
Nor will heaven own a Cause it has deserted?  
With Adolph Nature's angry, and the Gods  
With Filamor: If to yourselves you trust,  
Reason will tell you, four before four thousand  
Must fall to th'Earth's cold arms, from whence they sprung:  
So that you only can expect to have  
From Heaven a Thunderbolt, from th' Earth a Grave.  Fil. 
Our Answer's in our hands.  Capi. 
Hold Filamor, Capito gives the sign to the Centree, and then Sylvanus is brought in by an Executioner.  
If you have no compassion for yourself,  
Look on the snow that lies uponthat head,  
Which must be taken off, at the first blow  
You strike.  Syl. 
Filamor, if thou pitty'st me,  
Strike quickly, and let me die, any death,  
So I may be rid of my wife, I care not.  Capi. 
Poor Prince, the Grief to see his Son so wilful,  
Distracts him.  Syl. 
If he will not hold his prating,  
Cut his throat, Filamor; charge them, that my Soul  
May have her liberty, a thousand blessings  
Upon the hand, that fighting moves this Engine  
To strike my head off and divorce me from  
My brutish wife.  Fil. 
We shall obey you, Sir.  As the Princes are coming on, the Princesses are discovered under a Guard in the, Bard's Cave. Capi. 
Hold, once more; Princes take heed what I do  
How shows this Object? Pontia shows herself.  Fil. 
Caesarina taken?  Pontia. 
Yes, Filamor; she that was once my child,  
Is now my prisoner: when she married thee,  
I disclaimed her: I look upon her now  
As on a Rebel, yet her life I'll pardon,  
If you lay down your Arms.  Fil. 
Immediately,  
A Roman would not pause in such a Case.  He turns his Sword on his own Breast. Pon. 
If you but offer at your life, she dies.  Ad. 
Friend, there's no struggling against Fate, give me  
Thy Sword; There Capito, with my own I render  
Prince Filamor's Arms, he shall not kill himself,  
Let's Enemy do that office, I'll wait on him.  Pon. 
So, now I'm all that I can wish to be;  
O 'tis the Queen of all Felicities  
To have full power to reward and revenge.  
Bring the late General Crispus, that I may Crispus guarded.  
At one time cut off all my Enemies.  
First, Filamor, to you— I give my Daughter;  
To your Sister my Son, and to my Son  
I give my Principality of Malden,  
For I'll depend only upon my husband:  
For whose pardon and love thus low I beg.  Syl. 
Rely on me, and you'll be a good Wife,  
Then I shall study to forget your Evil,  
And love you for your Goodness.  Fil. 
With my thanks  
For this inestimable Gift, I crave  
Your pardon for my incredulity  
When you returned to Virtue.  Pon. 
That distrust  
Was universal, for which all have suffered;  
And yet thus far I would not have pursued  
Th'advantage fortune put into my hands,  
But that I knew nothing could bring my Daughter  
To Love's obedience, but the hope to save  
His life who saved her honour: To give her  
That opportunity, I committed you  
Both Prisoners to your Friend.  Cae. 
I am bound to you  
For my conversion to Love's Deity.  Pon. 
Adolph, for thee I have a second Gift,  
But greater than the first; into thy service  
And (nearer yet) into thy bosom take  
This man of honour, thoroughly I've She presents Crispus to Adolph. him,  
He's perfect, use him, and he'll make thee Great.  
Let him be Captain General of thy Army,  
And give the Second Place to Capito,  
Whose strict Obedience and prudent Conduct,  
Makes him inferior to none but Crispus.  Cris. 
Now Pontia, like the Planet of the Night,  
Breaks from her cloud, and shows us her pure light.  Cap. 
Though one Prince limits my Obedience,  
Two Sourreigns' my bosom does contain,  
For in my heart Adolph and Pontia reign.  Ad. 
Me and my love you've crowned, and added these  
Two rich Crown-jewels. He embraces Crispus and Capito.  Vio. 
I'm obliged to you  
Both for my interest in the Crown and Prince.  Pon. 
Fromund, I joy you; and I'll move my husband  
To add a Title of Honour to your Fortune.  Fro. 
Your Servant, Madam.  Bri. 
Well, you are a Witch,  
You told me, I should be Right Honourable.  Pon. 
Tetrick, to make you a Fortune, take this gold  
And Jewels.  Tet. 
Nay, since Fortune smiles upon me,  
I'll not be testy now: I humbly thank you.  Pon. 
Let us all thank Providence, that directs  
Bad Causes to produce such good Effects.  Exeunt.  

THE EPILOGUE To the HOUSE, Spoken by The STEPMOTHER.  
THe Ancient Britain's I have pleased; and now  
I come to their Descendants, to know how  
You'll censure me; my Doom I fain would hear,  
Yet, like you Lovers, what I hope, I fear.  
But fear arrives too late, the time is past;  
No going less, when once the Dice are cast,  
Whether I fairly pass, or have thrown out,  
You are to judge; pray, put me out of doubt.   

THE EPILOGUE TO THE KING.  
HAppy were those who English Plays first writ,  
They flourished in the golden times of Wit;  
Ripe Harvests then from Old and Modern Scenes  
Th' Industrious Poet reaped, but now he gleans:  
In that kind Age every one praised all Plays,  
No mercy in the critics of our days.  
The Author knew these Disadvantages,  
Yet ventured, hoping his desire to please;  
May Royal Pity move: You represent  
That Power, which for the act accepts th' intent.  
FINIS.