THE THRACIAN WONDER.  
A COMICAL HISTORY, As it hath been several times Acted with great Applause.  
Written by JOHN WEBSTER and WILLIAM ROWLEY.  
Placere Cupio.  
LONDON: Printed by Tho. Johnson, and are to be sold by Francis Kirkman, at his Shop at the Sign of John Fletcher's Head, over against the Angel-Inn, on the Backside of St. Clement's, without Temple-Bar. 1661.   

The Stationer to the Reader.  
Gentlemen,  
IT is now the second time of my appearing in Print in this nature, I should not have troubled you, but that I believe you will be as well pleased as myself; I am sure that when I applied myself to buying and reading of Books, I was very well satisfied when I could purchase a new Play. I have promised you three this Term, A Cure for a Cuckold was the first, this the second, and the third, viz. Gammer Gurton's Needle is ready for you. I have several others that I intend for you suddenly: I shall not (as some others of my profession have done) promise more than I will perform in a year or two, or it may be never; but I will assure you that I shall never leave printing, so long as you shall continue buying. I have several Manuscripts of this nature, written by worthy Authors, and I account it much pity they should now lie dormant, and buried in oblivion, since ingenuity is so likely to be encouraged, by reason of the happy Restauration of our Liberties. We have had the private Stage for some years clouded, and under a tyrannical command, though the public Stage of England has produced many monstrous villains, some of which have deservedly made their exit. I believe future Ages will not credit the transactions of our late Times to be other than a Play, or a Romance: I am sure in most Romantic Plays there hath been more probability, then in our true (though sad) Stories. Gentlemen, I will not further trouble you at this time, only I shall tell you, that if you please to repair to my Shop, I shall furnish you with all the Plays that were ever yet printed. I have 700, several Plays, and most of them several times over, and I intend to increase my Store as I sell; And I hope you will by your frequent buying, encourage  
Your Servant, Francis Kirkman.   


Dramatis Personae.  
PHeander King of Thrace, Father to Ariadne.  
King of Sicilia, Father to Radagon.  
Alcade King of Africa, Father to Lillia Guida.  
Sophos, Brother to Pheander.  
Radagon, Son to the King of Sicilia, and Husband to Ariadne  
Eusanius, Son to Radagon and Ariadne,  
Leonardo, a Thracian Lord.  
Two Thracian Lords.  
Two Sicilian Lords.  
Two African Lords.  
Antimon an old shepherd, father to Serena & the Clown.  
Tityrus, a merry shepherd  
Pallemon, a shepherd in love with Serena.  
The Clown, son to Antimon.  
Two Shepherds.  
Two Shepherdesses.  
A Fisherman  
A Priest.  
Pithia, a Goddess.  
Ariadne, Daughter to Pheander, and Wife to Radagon,  
Lillia Guida, Daughter to Alcade.  
Serena a Shepherdess, Daughter to Antimon.  
Chorus and Time.    

THE THRACIAN WONDER.  

ACT. 1. SCENE 1.  Enter Pheander King of Thrace, with his Sword drawn, two Noblemen holding him; Ariadne flying before him with a Child in her arms. 1 Lord. 
GOod my Liege.  2 Lord. 
Dear Sovereign.  Phean. 
Why do you keep the Sword of Justice back  
From cutting off so foul a blasted branch?  2 Lord. 
Oh let your milder sense censure this Fate,  
And cast her not away in hate of spleen.  1 Lord. 
Consider Sir, she is your only Child, your kingdom's Heir, your country's future Hope, and she may live  Phe. 
To be a Strumpet, sir: Do not vex my soul with extollation of a thing so vile. Is't possible a Lady of her Birth should stain her Royal Race with beastly lust, and mix the blood of Kings with a base issue? Was it for this you were so long mewed up within your private Chamber? Was it for this we gave so strict a charge to have your tedious Sickness looked unto? But our examples shall be such on thee, as all the world shall take a warning by. What man, or devil in the shape of man was he, that durst presume for to pollute thee? Either confess him, or by all our gods I'll plague thy body with continual tortures; that being done, I will devise a death, that time to come shall never pattern it.  Enter Radagon with his Sword drawn. Rad. 
There's not the smallest torture while I live  
That shall afflict, or touch her tender body.  Phe. 
What Traitor-slave dares interrupt the passage of our will? Cut him in pieces.  Ariad. 
Oh, hold your hands; for mercy let him live,  
And twenty pieces within my bosom give.  Phe. 
Death? Now 'tis probable, He lay my life this Groom is Father to the strumpet's Brat.  Enter a Guard. 
A Guard there: seize him, make the Slave confess;  
And if he will not, kill him instantly.  Rad. 
Villains, unhand me, I'll reveal the truth, I will not die in base obscurity. Pheander, know I am not what I seem (an abject Groom) but Royal as thyself: My name is Radagon, son to thy Enemy, Cicillia's King; this thirteen months I have continued here, in hope for to obtain what now I have, my Ariadne's love. 'Tis I am Father to this Princely Boy, and I'll maintain't even with the utmost hazard of my life.  Phe. 
Thy life, base Lecher, that is the smallest satisfaction that thou canst render for thy foul Transgression. And were't not 'gainst the Law of Arms and Nature, these hands should sacrifice your guilty souls; and with your bloods wash the foul stain from off our Royal House. As for the Brat, his brains shall be dashed out, no base remembrance shall be left of him, I'll have my will effected instantly.  1 Lord. 
Dear Sovereign, let Pity plead this Case, and Natural Love reclaim your high displeasure. The Babe is guiltless of the Fact committed, and She is all the children that you have, then for your country's cause, and Kingdoms good, be pleased to take her to your grace again.  2 Lord. 
Besides my Liege, 'tis known that Radagon  
Is by his Noble Birth, a worthy Lord,  
Princely descended, of a Royal Stock,  
Although not Heir apparent to a Crown;  
Then since their hearts have sympathised in one,  
Confirm with love this happy Union.  Phe: 
This hand shall be his Priest that dares again presume to speak for her. What worse disgrace did ever King sustain, than I by this luxurious couple have? But you shall see our Clemency is such, that we will mildlier sentence their vild Fact, than they themselves can look for, or deserve. Take them asunder, and attend our Doom.  Rad. 
Before you speak, vouchsafe to hear me, Sir:  
It is not for myself I bend my knee,  
Nor will I crave the least forgiveness,  
But for your Daughter; Do but set her free,  
And let me feel the worst of Tyranny.  Ariad. 
The like Submission do I make for him.  Phe. 
Stop her mouth, we never more intend to hear her speak: I would not have a Token of Remembrance, that ever I did bear the Name of Father. For you, lascivious Sir, on pain of death we charge you leave our Kingdom instantly: two days we limit you for your departure; which time expired, 'tis death to tread upon our Thracian Bounds.  
But housewife, as for you,  
You with your Brat, we'll send afloat the Main,  
There to be left, never to Land again:  
And that your Copesmate may be sure to lose  
The chief content of his desired Bliss,  
You shall be guarded from our Kingdoms Confines,  
And put to Sea, with several Winds and Tides,  
That ye may never more enjoy each other:  
She in a small Boat without Man or Oar,  
Shall to the mercy of the Waves be left.  
He in a Pinnace without Sail or ,  
Shall be dragged forth some five leagues from the shore,  
And there be drenched in the vast Ocean.  
You hear your Doom, which shall for ever stand irrevocable.  
Make no reply: Go strumpet, get thee hence,  
No sin so vile as Disobedience.  Exit Phe. the rest stay Ariad. 
A heavy, bitter Sentence! when for Love we must be banished from our Native right: Had his high Rage but suffered me to speak, I could have my Chastity as clear, as is the unspotted Lamb of Innocence.  1 Lord. 
Alas, good Lady: Now on my faith I do believe as much, I'll back return unto his Majesty, and urge him to recall his heavy Doom.  Ariad. 
Oh no, I would not for the world, believe me sir,  
Endanger you in such an Embassy.  
Let him persist, the heaven's hath ever sent,  
A Tower of strength to guard the innocent.  
Oh Radagon, we two shall never meet,  
Until we tread upon the higher Frame.  
Farewell, Dear Love. Poor Babe, thy wretched Birth  
Makes us to part eternally on earth.  Exit Ariad. & Guard. Rad. 
My life, my soul, all my felicity,  
Is in a trice divided from my sight!  
No matter now whate'er become of me,  
All earthly joys are lost in losing thee.  Exeunt. Enter Titterus and Pallemon. Tit. 
Come, I must know your cause of Discontent.  Pal. 
I know it is your love to urge thus far, and 'tis my love thus to conceal it from you: should I relate my cause of Sorrow to you, and you seeking my remedy, should wound yourself, think what a Corrosive it would prove to me. And yet I wonder you conceive it not; if you consider truly your own state, you'll find our cause of grief to be alike.  Tit. 
You have found a pretty way to silence me, but 'twill not serve, indeed it will not, sir, because I know you do dissemble with me. The strongest Allegation that ye have, is that you sorrow for a Father's death, and that I know is feigned; for since that time myself have heard you, in your Roundelays more frolic far than any of the Swains; and in your pastimes on the Holidays strive to surpass the activest of us all, therefore that cannot serve you for Excuse; And for your flocks, I'm sure they thrive as well as any shepherds do upon the plain, that makes me wonder, and importunate to know the cause that might procure this sadness.  Pal. 
Since nothing but the Truth will satisfy,  
Take't in a word, brother: I am in Love.  Tit. 
Ha, ha, what's that?  Pal. 
A god which many thousands do adore.  Tit. 
A Fable that fond fools gives credit too: I that have been a Shepherd all my life, and ne'er trained up to School as thou hast been, would scorn to be deluded by a Fiction, a thing that's nothing but inconstancy. Didst never hear the Invective that I made?  Pal. 
No, nor desire it now.  Tit. 
Yes, prithee mark it,  
I'll tell thee my opinion now of Love.  
Love is a Law, a Discord of such force,  
That twixt our Sense and Reason makes divorce.  
Love 's a Desire, that to obtain betime,  
We lose an Age of Years plucked from our prime.  
Love is a thing to which we soon consent,  
As soon refuse, but sooner far repent.  
Then what must women be that are the cause,  Enter old Antimon & Clown. 
That Love hath life? that Lovers feel such laws?  
They're like the Winds upon Lapantha's shore,  
That still are changing. Oh then love no more.  
A woman's Love is like that Syrian Flower,  
That buds, and spreads, and withers in an hour.  Pal. 
See Orpheus, you have drawn Listeners.  Tit. 
What, dost make beasts of 'em?  Ant. 
Come son, let's make haste to fold up our flocks,  
I fear we shall have a foul Evening.  Clown. 
I think so too Father, for there's a strong wind risen in the back door. 'snails! yonder's Mr. Tityrus the merry Shepherd, and the old fool my father would pass by; we'll have a Fit of Mirth before we part.  Tit. 
Hoist a Gods-name, cannot the Puppy see?  Clown. 
Hardly sir, for he has been troubled with sore eyes this nine days.  Tit. 
Muscod, come hither, what shall I give thee to put my brother Pallemon from his dumps?  Clown. 
I do not know what you'll give me, but promise what you will, I'm sure to be paid if, I meddle with him: he's the strangest humoured man now of late that e'er I met withal; he was ready to lay his Hook o'er my pate tother morning, for giving him the time of the day. But upon one condition I'll venture a knock this once.  Tit. 
What's your condition?  Clown. 
Marry, that you would give me a delicate Song to court my Wench withal; but it must be a good one, for women are grown so musical now adays, they care not a pin for a Song unless it be well pricked.  Tit. 
Oh, I have one a purpose: hark, shalt hear it.  Seren. 
Nothing shall serve, but what I have prefixed.  Pal. 
I'll pluck the Moon from forth the Starry Throne,  
And place thee there to light the lower Orb;  
And if stern Pluto offer to embrace thee,  
I'll pitch him headlong into Phlegeton.  Stren. 
Phoebus defend me! Oh, I fear he's mad.  Pal. 
Or if thou'lt live, and be the Shepherd's Queen, I'll fetch Senessa frown the Down of Swans to be thy handmaid; the Phrygian Boy that Jove so doted on, shall be thy Page, and serve thee on his knee: Thou shalt be guarded round with Jolly Swains, suchas was Luno's Love on Latma's hill: Thy Music shall surpass the Argo's tamer. If this content thee not, I'll dive into the bottom of the Deep, and fetch thee Bracelets of the Orient Pearl, the Treasure of the Sea shall all be thine.  Ser. 
He's stark mad! some power withhold him here,  
Until I find some place to shelter me.  Exit. Pal. 
Art thou gone in haste?  
I'll not forsake thee;  
Runnest thou ne'er so fast,  
I'll o'ertake thee:  
Or the Dales, or the Downs,  
through the green Meadows,  
From the fields through the towns, to the dim shadows.  
All along the Plain,  
to the low Fountains,  
Up and down again  
from the high Mountains:  
Echo then, shall again  
tell her I follow,  
And the Floods to the Woods,  
carry my holla, holla, ce, la, ho, ho, hu  Exit. A dumb-show. Thunder and Lightning. Enter old Antimon bringing in Ariadne shipwrecked, the Clown turning the child up and down, and wringing the Clouts. They pass over the Stage. Exeunt. Enter Radagon all wet, looking about for shelter as shipwrecked. Enter to him Titterus, seems to question him, puts off his Hat and Coat, and puts on him, so guides him off. Exeunt. Storm cease. Enter Chorus. Chor. 
This storm is o'er, but now a greater storm is to be feared, that is, your Censures of this History. From cruel shipwreck you have here beheld the preservation of these banished Princes, who being put to sea in Mastless Boats, with several Winds and Tides were driven back to the same Coast that they were banished from; which understanding, lest they should be known, they change their Names and Habits, and persuade the silly shepherds they are Foreigners: in several Cottages remote from Court these Lovers live, thinking each other dead. The sighs, the tears, the passions that were spent on either side, we could describe to you,  Enter Time with an Hourglass, sets it down, and exit. 
But time hath barred us: This is all you see  
That he hath lent us for our History.  
I doubt we hardly shall conclude so soon:  
But if you please to like our author's Pen,  
We'll beguile Time, and turn his Glass again.  Exit. 
Finis Actus Primi.   

ACT. 2. SCENE. 1.  Groans of dying men heard within. Enter two Lords of Thrace, severally. 1 Lord 
GOod Gods, be merciful.  Within. 
Oh, oh, oh.  2 Lord. 
Some Power defend us from this noisome Sickness. Stand: who's that, the Wind?  1 Lord. 
Keep distance then. Oh my Lord, is't you? this is a fearful Visitation, the people as they walk, drop down in heaps.  Enter Lord Leonardo. 
Retire and keep the wind, here comes another.  Leo. 
Oh, oh, falls dead.  2 Lord. 
Mercy, he's dead!  1 Lord. 
Who is't?  2 Lord. 
I cannot well discern him, but I think it is the Lord Leonardo: Yes, 'tis he.  1 Lord 
A fearful rest receive him, he was virtuous.  
My Lord, I would fain exchange some private words with you, I think you are clear.  Enter Sophos the king's brother, reading a Letter. 2 Lord. 
Upon my life I am.  1 Lord. 
Let's walk together then.  Soph. 
Alas poor Niece, cruel unnatural Father, a Falleris, a smiling Tyrant, to use his Daughter with such cruelty: Bless me, I fear I have taken the Infection.  1 Lord. 
'Tis Sophos the king's Brother come to Court.  Soph. 
I heard some speak, keep off whate'er you be:  
Who is't, Pallation? where's the King my Brother?  1 Lord. 
In his Bedchamber.  Soph. 
Tell him I am here.  1 Lord. 
I shall my Lord. Some there remove the body.  Exit Lord Soph. 
No, it shall lie,  
Himself shall see in what a state we live:  
His Daughter's murdered, banished I should say,  
And the Sicilian Prince, both innocent.  Cor. and Flor. 
A little infant perished, the Gods know  
As lawfully begot as he or I.  
Nay, never stare, 'tis true: the Gods  
Are not displeased without cause.  
Heyda! Is this a time for Music?  
And so it is indeed; for every one  
Is ready to kick up his heels.  Within. 
Oh, oh, oh. I marry sir, here's music fits the time.  Enter Pheander in his Gown and Cap, 1 Lord. Phe. 
What horrid shrieks and clamours fills our ears?  
Are groans fit Music for a PRINCE's Court?  Soph. 
'Tis Music fit for Princes that delight in devilish Dances: Look sir, behold here's one hath danced himself quite out of breath: here's good Leonardo gone, your Daughter's dead, poor Niece, with tears I speak it, and your Land infected with a Plague incurable, your Court, and 'twas not wont to be the Court-disease: what should occasion this but—— would I durst speak what I suspect: suspect, said I? nay what is truth, for that's beyond suspicion. Read that, then guess the cause of our inflictions.  Phe. 
Ha, ha, ha, ha. This was a subtle and shrewd Device to shadow Treachery, was it not my Lords? Having wrapped Treason in a poisoned paper, delivers it to us to take the infection.  Soph. 
By the blessed Sun 'tis false, I am no Traitor, as loyal as the truest Subject here; yet there is poison in't of power and strength to make a Father's heart to swell and burst at the recital of such Tyranny. Thy Daughter's chaste, a Royal spotless Princess, she here doth vow, and call the Gods to witness, she ne'er admitted him unto her bed, until the Nuptial Rites were celebrated; yet Tyrantlike thou puttest her unto sea, not suffering her to plead her innocence, where she and her poor Babe did suffer death.  Phe. 
Dissembling hypocrite, art not ashamed to lay such shallow baits to catch a Crown? Observe what a discovered way he treads, thinking her dead, which all you know she justly merited, has forged this Letter, to turn your hearts with seeming pity to dispossess us, and be King himself: But you whose hearts have ever yet been loyal, know how to censure of such Treachery with true discretion. Pray ye use him kindly, let him not feel too many cruel tortures, he is our Brother, though he have transgressed the Law of Gods and Nature, we are loath to punish with too much severity.  Soph. 
Ha, ha, ha. Now give me leave to laugh, devouring crocodile, dost think I fear to die? Let death fright those that fear to die for ever: let me behold him in his ugliest shape, he's then most lovely; if I did fear, I'd ne'er have uttered this, it was to clear thy daughter's innocence, and blaze thy infamy unto the world, for this I did it: if for this I die, I die for truth, live with eternity.  Phe. 
Take him aside until we call for him.  Soph. 
Do not touch me, slaves, I scorn to run.  Exit Guard with Sophos. Phe. 
Your council Lords what we best to do,  
You see his guilt apparently appears:  
We dare not call a Public Consultation  
For fear of the Infection, unto you  
We will refer the manner of his death.  
Here seat yourselves, and every man set down  
His several Censure; which when we survey,  
We'll give our Sentence, either Life or Death.  Exit. They seat themselves at a Table severally, and fall to writing. Enter a Nobleman of Cicillia, the 1 Lord. 1 Sicil. L. 
I think this be the Land of Golgotha, inhabited by none but by the dead, except some airy shadows, and they're silent, the streets are strewed with breathless carcases, as 'twas in Rome when Marius Silla warred. All that do see me, shun me like the Plague, and shut their doors, sure I am not infectious. Entering the Court, the Guard stood gazing at me, and gave me free access into the Palace, without demanding whence, or what I came for; the strangeness of their looks and fearful action, makes me imagine that I am transformed: would I could meet but with a Water-spring, to see if I retain my wonted shape. This should be near the Presence: what are these? they should be Lawyers, they're not dumb I'm sure.  1 Th. Lord. 
What's he?  1 Lord. 
Some stranger.  3 Th. Lord. 
How came he in the Guard?  1 Sc. Lord. 
They speak, I'll try if they can hear.  1 Th. Lord. 
Keep back, who are you? The cause of your approach so near the King?  1 Sc. Lord. 
Your outsides speak you noble. Know my Lords, the Cause of my arrival in this Land, is in the search of Princely Radagon, now Son and Heir to the Sicilian King; if ever you did hear of such a Prince, let not forepast hate extinguish him, but glad an aged Father with a Son, who now is all the children he hath left. They shake their heads and weep: Good Gods I fear they have ta'en away his life by tyranny.  Enter Pheander ready. Phe. 
What stranger's that? what makes him in our Court?  
What, are you dumb? Why do you not resolve us?  1 Lord. 
He is a Subject to Sicilia's King, and comes in search of banished Radagon.  1 Sc. Lord. 
How, banished?  Phe. 
I sir, banished. And 'twas too mild a satisfaction for the base wrongs that I sustained by him: in a small Boat hopeless of help or life, he was put forth to sea by our Command. This you may tell your King, and so be gone.  1 Sc. Lord. 
You could not be so unmerciful, to use a virtuous Prince so cruelly: you durst not so transgress the Law of Kings, to murder him, although your Enemy. I know no cause of his did merit it, but the stern hate of ancient Enmity.  Phe. 
How dare you sir, capitulate the Cause? Go, bid your Master come himself to know, and then perchance we may resolve it him.  1 Sc. Lord. 
Be sure he will, thou cruel Homicide, and ask the Cause in such a thundering Language, will make both thee and all that hear it, tremble.  Exit Scil. Lord. Phe. 
We'll answer him as loud, sir, fear it not.  
But to our first Affairs: what is your Censure? is Life or Death the Sentence we must give?  1 Lord. 
Mine is his Life, my Liege.  2 Lord. 
And so is mine.  3 Lord. 
Mine is his life, but not his liberty.  Phe. 
Why not his death as well? His fact is Treason.  1 Lord. 
Suspected, but not proved; therefore 'tis fit he should be kept close Prisoner, till we hear how the rude multitude do stand affected, for he was deeply seated in their hearts.  Phe. 
We are resolved, let him be straight brought forth,  
We'll use him with what clemency we may;  
I know the Gods, whom Kings should imitate,  
Have placed us here to rule, not overthrow.  Enter Sophos. 
Justice shall hand in hand with mercy go.  
We speak before a King, but now a brother;  
If you will yet confess your Guilt and Cause.  
That moved you first unto this Forgery,  
We may perhaps forgive you; otherwise  
There is no other favour but to die.  Soph. 
Ha, ha, ha, to die! I do not think I shall be made so happy, for death's the honest man's felicity, there is no favour that I crave but death; in living here I shall more torments find, but being dead, there ends my misery.  Phe. 
If you will yet confess, we will have mercy.  Soph. 
Mercy, on whom, for what? You are deceived,  
It is a thing not in thy power to give.  
Mercy's immortal, and to humane eyes  
Is never seen till fleshly passion dies.  Phe. 
It seems then sir, you do desire to die?  Soph. 
With full consent, for life's a loathsome vale of misery.  Phe. 
In which thou still shalt live: thy life we give, but doom thee to perpetual banishment: we limit you no time, therefore dispatch. See that he instantly depart the Court.  Soph. 
Dost think I'll stay, by all our gods thy Crown and Kingdom shall not hire me to't. Tyrant fare vel, if e'er I do return, cities that now stand, shall be heaps of stone.  Exit Sophos. Phe. 
This foggy Cloud dispersed, I hold it fit some post to the Delphos to the Oracle, to know what shall ensue these Thunderclaps that threaten such distraction, we ourselves will see you furnished for the Offering. Whom shall we send? Cleanthes? No: you two prepare for your departure presently. What though he was our Brother? 'tis not fit mistrustful men should live within our Court: what is't to be a King, and stand in awe?  Cor. and Flor. 
Those that entreat, and may command with fear,  
Are fitter to climb up than tarry here.  Exeunt omnes. Enter Titterus and Radagon severally. Tit. 
Stirring so early, Partner, than I see you'll prove a wealthy shepherd; watchfulness is the chief star within our Calendar: 'twere vain to ask you how you affect this life, your forwardness expresses that you like it.  Rad. 
Who can dislike a peaceful happiness? Methinks I never proved a sweeter happiness; in every corner here Content sits smiling: the Mountain tops I make my Morning-walks, the evening-shades my recreation, and when night's Queen puts on her gorgeous Robe, I take delight to gaze upon the stars, in which methinks I read Philosophy; and by the Astronomical Aspects I search out Nature's secrets, the chief means for the preventing my Lamb's prejudice. I tell-you sir, I find in being a shepherd, what many Kings want in their Royalties.  Tit. 
I joy in your content, yet wonder sir, you do frequent such melancholy Walks; I have observed your passions many times, and seen you sit sole companied with thought, as if your passions were your Comforters, I fear some foolish female has entrapped you.  Rad. 
Not any sir, believe it, that's a thing  
I thank my stars I ne'er did estimate.  
Love that imparadiseth some, to me  
Is hell itself, if hell on earth there be.  Tit. 
Blessed be the hour that e'er I met with thee,  
Not love a woman? have I a second self?  
Oh happy, happy man, not love a woman!  Rad. 
I do not yet, assure you.  Tit. 
Nor ever do, if you do love yourself; of all things in the world take heed of 'em: I have a brother mad forsooth, for Love. But that I had a mother, I could wish that there were no such things as women are. We shall have such a hoyting here anon, you'll wonder at it. 'Tis Pan's Holiday, the chiefest Festival the shepherds keep, 'tis held upon this Green.  Rad. 
I thought as much, belike then that's the cause.  Music. 
This place is so bedecked and strowed with flowers.  Tit. 
The very same: they come, observe the custom.  Enter old Antimon and another old Shepherd, after them two Shepherds to dance, then the Clown with Garlands upon his Hook, himself dressed with Ribbons and Scarfs, then Ariadne the Princess like a Shepherdess, with Serena and two other Shepherdesses to dance. Cease Music. Ant. 
Tityrus! well met, you are the welcomest man I see today, the wenches were afraid you'd not have come, and then our Roundelays had all been spoiled.  Tit. 
Sir, you may thank this man: pray bid him welcome, he's a stranger here.  Ant. 
What Countryman?  Rad. 
Sicilia gave me life, on whose fair Promontories I have lived this many years, till Covet to see change, brought me to Thrace, which I affect so well, I would continue.  1 Shep. 
And welcome.  2 Shep. 
Welcome,  Clown. 
You're very heartily welcome.  Ant. 
Son, set down thy Hook, and shake it lustily,  
Win me the Garland, and I promise thee  
I'll give thee two fat Wethers to make merry.  
Oh, when I was a young man, I'd ha' tickled it.  Clown. 
I warrant ye father, for the Cast of the Leg,  
The standing Caper, or the Placket Jump,  
Let me alone, I'll firk 'em up i'faith.  1 Shep. 
Sir, you'll make one? Nay, no excuse shall serve,  
We know you can, and will not be denied.  Rad. 
I shall but shame our Countrymen. Will you?  Tit. 
Who I? And 'twere not to observe the Ceremony,  
They should not have me here. I must do somewhat.  Ant. 
Come, you're well matched, strike Music and begin,  
We two will sit as Judges.  Dance, wherein Ariadne, alias Mariana, dances with Radagon. Dance ends. Soft Music. The men all pass by the two old Shepherds with obeisance, Radagon last; as he makes Congee, they put the Crown upon his head, he offers to refuse it, they put it on him, and set him betwixt them. Ant. 
Nay, you must not refuse it, 'tis deserved, you have it with a general consent, this shall confirm't.  1 Shep. 
And this.  The rest of the Shepherds pass by him with obeisance. 2 Shep. 
And this.  Rad. 
I thank you.  Music again. The wenches come with obeisance to Ariadne, crown her Queen of the Shepherdesses, they lead her to Radagon their King; she and they make obeisance to him, he rises and kisses her. Music ceases. Ant. 
Come, spread the Cloth, and bring away the Meat:  
So, so, sit down. Daughter attend the Queen,  
It may be thy turn next.  Enter Clown with a tablecloth, he and Ant. spread it ridiculously on the ground, they all sit down. 
That's a good boy.  Music. Dishes of Apples, Nuts, and Cheesecakes. Enter Titterus like old Janus, with a Coat girt to him, a white Beard and Hair; a Hatchet in one hand, and a Bowl in the other, he sings. 
NOw does Jolly Janus greet your Merriment;  
For since the World's Creation,  
I never changed my fashion,  
'Tis good enough to fence the Cold:  
My Hatchet serves to cut my firing yearly,  
My Bowl preserves the Juice of Grape and Barley:  
Fire, Wine, and Strong Beer, makes me live so long here,  
To give the merry New-year a welcome in.  
All the potent Powers of Plenty wait upon  
You that intend to be frolic today:  
To Bacchus I commend ye, and Ceres eke attend ye,  
To keep encroaching Cares away.  
That Boreus blasts may never blow to harm you,  
Nor Hymen's frosts, but give you cause to warm you.  
Old Father Janevere, drinks a Health to all here,  
To give the merry New-year a welcome in.  Ariad. 
Good Janivere depart: Another time  
We'll bid thee welcome as befits thy years,  
But now our Flocks are young, and should they feel  
But the smallest breath from thee sent in a storm,  
They would go near to perish, Prithee leave us.  Tit. 
Since you desire my absence,  
I will depart this Green,  
Though loath to leave the presence  
of such a lovely Queen,  
Whose Beauty like the Sun,  
melts all my frost away.  
And now in stead of Winter,  
behold a youthful May.  Omnes. 
Tityrus? Welcome.  Enter Pallemon. 
I come, I come, I come.  Exeunt running. Manent Clown & Pall. Clown. 
I go, I go, I go.  Ser. 
Oh hide me from him.  Exeunt. The Clown climbs up a tree. Pal. 
Puff, they're blown away with a Whirlwind:  
Thanks gentle Aeolus, thoust left my Love upon a lofty Pine.  Clown. 
Yes, I shall pine, for I'm like to get no Victuals whilst he is here.  Pal. 
That's not her voice: no, now I see her plain,  
'Tis an Owl in an Ivy-bush.  Clown. 
I'm glad he takes me for an Owl: now if I could but cry like one, ta wit, ta woe.  Pal. 
Oh 'tis my Love, she says I come to woo, 'tis true;  
Come down, dear Love; or stay, I come to thee.  Clown. 
No, no, no, I come, I come down to thee.  
He'll break my neck, if he get up once.  Comes down. Pal. 
Alas poor heart, how pale and black she looks,  
I think she's almost starved, she's black i'th' mouth!  
See, here's a Banquet; come sit down my Love.  Clown. 
I'm glad a this, we shall feed again.  Pal. 
Yet stay: now I remember, those that are kept from victuals a long time, must not be cloyed too much for fear they surfeit.  Clown. 
I warrant you my Love, I will not feed.  Pal. 
No, do not feed.  Clown. 
Yes, yes, a little.  Pal. 
No, 'tis dangerous, we'll first to sea, and purge the blood that dims thy rosy cheeks.  Clown. 
Let's fill our bellies, and we shall purge the better.  Pal. 
It is not good to purge on a full stomach.  
Come we'll embark us in this hollow Tree,  The Dance 
And sail to Jericho. Music, shall we dance?  Clo. 
ay, ay, we'll dance to Jericho.  A mad Dance, they dance off. Consort a Lesson. A Table and Tapers. Enter Priest and two Thracian Lords. Ceremonies ended, the Priest speaks. Priest. 
Know sacred Goddess, these are sent  
From fertile Thrace, whose discontent  
By noisome Sickness is increased:  
But how, or when it shall be ceased,  Pythia speaks in the Music-room behind the Curtains. 
Their King Pheander craves resolve,  
The reason of his Countries' grief,  
And when they shall regain relief?  Pythia above, behind the Curtains. Pith. 
The ileful gods with full consent,  
Have plagued the Thracian Continent,  
Their Court and Country woe shall sing  
For the Transgression of their King;  
Who 'gainst all Right and Piety,  
Hath quite expelled pure Chastity:  
But for the time when Plagues shall end,  
This Schedule to the King I send,  
Wherein at large is full expressed  
When all your woe shall be redressed.  Throws down a paper. Priest reads. 
Content shall keep in Town and Field,  
When Neptune from his Waves shall yield  
A Thracian Wonder; and as when  
It shall be proved 'mongst Thracian men  
That Lambs have Lions to their Guides,  
And Seas have neither Ebbs nor Tides;  
Then shall a Shepherd from the Plain,  
Restore your Health and Crown again.  Priest. 
The Oracle pronounces still obscure;  
But what is writ, is truth most sure.  
Though ne'er so hard to you it seem,  
Time will make clear what you misdeem.  Exit. 1 Lord. 
But we that time shall never live to see.  
What Thracian Wonder can the Sea waves yield?  
Lambs ne'er will have stern Lions for their guide:  
Or when will Seas leave off their Ebbs and Tides?  2 Lord. 
Never, oh never.  1 Lord. 
Then ne'er shall Thrace be blessed.  
But we will bear this Problem to the King,  
And let him know that for his tyranny,  
His Subjects suffer this calamity.  Exeunt: Enter Antimon and Ariadne. Ant. 
Minion, take heed, turn not my proffered Love  
By peevishness and folly, to disdain; for if thou dost,  Ariad. 
You'll turn me out of all, I know it is the sequel of your words, which I unhappy wretch must undergo: were every Lamb increased unto a Flock, and every Flock to thousands multiplied, I must not love you.  Ant. 
You must not?  Ariad. 
And worse, I must for ever hate you, if you name but Love again: I must ingrateful be for all the courtesies you have bestowed. Love, or the thought of it, to me is like the talon of a soaring Hawk striking a silly Dove, it murders me.  Ant. 
So, you are sensible of your own grief, but no other pity,  
I am wounded too, but you feel it not.  Ariad. 
Where are you wounded, sir?  Ant. 
Even at the heart: I'm wounded for thy Love.  Ariad. 
If I could see it bleed, I should believe't.  Ant. 
You would, I thank you heartily for that.  Ariad. 
Sure sir, I think you would not fear a wound, cold and decaying nature has made you strike-free, you have no blood to die with, you're now buried in your skin's cerecloth, and would you warm that monumental Robe at love's fire in your grave?  Ant. 
Scorned and abused, 'tis long of Menalchus, go with that hand preserved thee from the wrack of the devouring Billows, that ravenous and merciless assembly of salt Drops, that charitable hand that long hath been the tender Foster-father to thy wants, with that hand now I turn thee off: turn thou thy face no more to any house of mine, I'll burn them all ere they shall cover thee. Thou wert my joy, but this thy scornful spite,  
Has made me hate where I took most delight.  Ariad. 
My sweet Eusanius,  
It is his Loss makes me unfortunate, that weighty grief  
Followed by mercies, yet wert thou the chief;  
where'er thou art, Fate in spite send me hither,  
Though in the arms of Death we meet together.  Ent. Titterus: Sings. 
I loved a Lass, alas my folly, was full of her coy disdaining,  
I courted her thus: what shall I sweet Dolly do for thy dear Love's obtaining?  
At length I did dally so long with my Dolly, that Dolly for all her feigning,  
Had got such a mountain above her valley, that Dolly came home complaining.  Ariad. 
Oh misery, misery! which way should I turn from thee?  Tit. 
Ha? there's a foolish Lover upon my life, a female heigho i'faith: Alas poor heart, why dost thou sit dejected, pretty soul, he is a hard hearted stubborn Clown I warrant him, whate'er he is; but I hold him the wiser man for't though: will he not do, filthy churl as he is? poor heart, would I had a heart could pity thee.  Ariad. 
whate'er you are, sir, my miseries have not deserved your scorn; I do beseech you leave me with my sorrows, for I desire no other company.  Tit. 
Ha? a good face i'faith, a special good face, fine Babies in her eyes, those lips speak now methinks, and say, Come kiss me. How now Tityrus! the singing Satire against all women, the Madrigal-maker against good faces, Beauty's Despiser, are you in contemplation now? I must not turn my tale sure from Shepherd's Roundelays to Epithalamiums, and Sonnets, and Io's, and Heighos? this were odd if I should, and yet by my troth I think I must for aught I can perceive; that thievish god Cupid that useth to steal hearts, affections, and sighs out of men's bosoms, is now crept into mine, and spite of my proud heart makes me confess, that  
Love's a lovely Lad, his bringing up is Beauty,  
Who loves him not is mad; for I must pay him duty now I'm sad.  
Hail to those sweet eyes, that shine celestial wonder,  
From thence do flames arise burns my poor heart asunder, now it fries.  Ariad. 
Sir, you are rustic, and no generous spirit to make Calamity your merry theme. Beseech you leave me.  Tit. 
Cupid sets a Crown upon those lovely Tresses;  
Oh spoil not with a frown what he so sweetly dresses.  
I'll sit down.  Ariad. 
You'll force me then to rise, and fly your folly;  
Yet why should you have power to banish me  
From this free spreading Air, that I may claim  
For mine as well as yours? but 'tis no matter,  
Take this place to ye, where'er you force me go,  
I shall keep still my sad Companion, Woe.  Tit. 
Nay then have at you in Prose, if Metre be no Meeter for you, you must not leave me thus; And as even till this hour I hated women, and therefore must needs be the honester man, I will not stay you for any ill, by my hook and troth la: And now do not I know what to say to her neither, but you have a good Face, white Neck, a dainty Cheek, soft Hand, and I love you: if my Nurse had ever taught me better language, I could afford it you.  Ariad. 
That very word will feather my slow feet, and make me fly from you. I hate all love, and am in love with nought but hate and scorn, sorrows and griefs, I am exposed to them, turned from a Charity that fed me once, to naked poverty, thrust into the mouth of Fortune's battery, to stand all malice that she can shoot at mortal.  Tit. 
What heart could be so cruel? hand so ungentle?  Ariad. 
Old Antimon's, till this hour courteous,  
Now most unkind and spiteful.  Tit. 
Why then, has Love and Hate mistaken their Quivers today? He that was courteous to women is now turned unkind, and I that ever halted am struck most pitifully in love with 'em. Here, take all the store I have to defend thee from common necessities, to feed and lodge: I will be thus bountiful, though I never have better of thee while I live, and I am sorry I am no better furnished; if thou remainest in these fields, I'll lend thee enough to stock thee with a Flock, and give thee day enough for payment too. He that should have said I would ha' been thus bountiful today morning, I would have said by this time he had been a witch. Fare thee well, I have some strange meditations, that I desire to be alone myself now, some of 'em must out again howsoever.  
Whither shall I go to escape away from folly?  
For now there's love I know, or else 'tis melancholy. heigh, heigho.  
Yonder lies the Snow, but my heart cannot melt it:  
Love shoots from his how, and my poor heart hath felt it. heigh, heigho.  Exeunt severally. 
Finis Actus secundus.   


ACT. 3. SCENE 1.  Enter Pheander with the two Lords from the Oracle. Phe. 
WHat news from Delphos? what says the Oracle?  
Wherefore is Thrace thus pestered with these plagues?  1 Th. Lord. 
My Liege, we have performed your dread Command, yet not command so much, as our desire did make our tedious travels to seem short, until we heard Apollo's ireful Doom; but then.  Phe. 
What then? nay quick, go on I say, we long to hear the Oracle's Decree.  1 Th. Lord. 
Having pronounced the gods were all displeased  
With woeful Thrace, she said our sorrows spring  
Was caused by the Transgressions of our King,  
Who 'gainst the Law of Equity and Right  
Had from his sight abandoned Chastity.  
But for the time when Plagues and Woes shall end,  
Deliver this unto your Thracian King:  
Till this be full accomplished, 'tis in vain  
Ever to hope, or seek redress again.  Phe. 
reads. Content shall keep in town and field,  
When Neptune from his waves, etc.  
Pish, these moral Mysteries are incredulous, nor can they contradict the will of Kings: Comets portend at first blaze, but take effect within the bosom of the destinies, so Oracles at Delphos, though foretold, are shaped and finished in your Council-house; and yet I charge you both upon your lives, let not the commons understand so much, lest several censures raise a Mutiny: 'Tis death to show a discontented brow, but smooth your overburdened grief with smiles, there's no disaster that afflicts a climb but it contains some limitation.  Enter a Fisherman. 
Let's wait the time, and with domestic care,  A Cry within. 
Strive to maintain those Honours we have won.  Arm, arm. 
Let's stand upon our guard, I fear some Treason.  
Speak Villains quickly, what means this noise?  Fish. 
My duty, mighty King, made me presume  
To press thus boldly to your highness' presence,  
To bid you make prevention 'gainst your foes,  
They are in number numberless to tell.  Tucket. 
And as I guess are of Cicillia.  Phe. 
What Trumpet's this? is it our enemy?  2 Lord. 
One from the enemy.  Enter 1 sicilian Lord. Phe. 
Quickly the News, that we may give an Answer.  Cic. Lord. 
My Royal Master, the Sicilian King.  Phe. 
We know your Message sir, in that one word:  
In naming him we understand the Cause.  1 Cic. Lord. 
Desires to parley with your Majesty.  Phe. 
We'll parley in no language, but in Steel:  
This shall maintain the Justice I have done,  
Against my Daughter, and base Radagon;  
Whose hateful name when I but think upon, adds vigour to my heart to take Revenge. Be gone, and tell your King for his presumption, we'll lash him from our Land with iron rods, and drag him at our stirrup through the streets.  1 Ci. L. 
Prepare for battle, when this Answer's known.  Exit. Phe. 
We'll meet him in the midway: say we come.  1 Th. Lord. 
Your Grace were better parley with the foe, and take a Truce, my Liege, for certain days; let your pretence be search of Radagon, which proposition they'll consent unto, then have we time to fortify our Land, and muster stronger powers to make resistance; for as we are, we are but a handful to a multitude.  Phe. 
Were they ten times as many, and we fewer, they should not rest one night within our Bounds, till I have sated my revenge in blood: Have we so many foreign Conquests won, and shall we fear a Broil in our own Land? our powers shall march and issue forth the Towns, Armies shall grapple, and the earth shall groan to bear the burden of Wars horror.  
Come let's on; base Fear's the brand of slaves,  Trom Flor. 
They that die nobly, shall have honoured graves.  Exeunt Enter Cicillia, 1 Lord, 2 Lord, Captains, Drums, and Soldiers. Cicil. 
Did he receive our Message with such scorn?  1 Cic. Lord. 
With such a barbarous and proud disdain, he scarce would suffer me to utter it; but bid me back return, and tell your Grace he'd lash you from his Land with whips of Steel, and when he had ta'en you Prisoner hand to hand, he'd drag you at his stirrups through the streets.  Cicil. 
I'm glad they are so valiant: than they come.  1 Cic. Lord. 
The voice of Arm, Arm, hurried through the Court as swift as Lightning, and their clattering Arms put on in haste, made such a horrid noise, as if a voice had issued from the Clouds, and all the way pursued me; methinks my ears still tingle with the sound.  Cic. 
Courage Sicilians, let this be your honour, they are no Cowards that you fight withal; for they have been approved in foreign Lands.  Cic. 2 Lord. 
Let'em be what they will, we stand prepared, if they be bold, we are as resolute; if valiant, we undaunted and resolved. Let it be seen which of our swords this day carves deepest wounds upon the breast of Thrace.  Cic. 1 Lord. 
In equal balance since our fortunes lie,  
Let each man strive to conquer, vanquished die.  Cic. 
I like your forward spirits, and commend'em: in all our Troops I cannot spy a man whom I mislike or dread; and for my part, as you have seen a burning Taper fall and burn most bright when it begins to fade, so shall you see me in declining Age. Methinks I cannot hear their Drums to thunder, nor their hoarse brazen pipes breathe forth a sound, to publish their defiance.  Cic. 1 Lord. 
Does not that Echo issue from the town?  Cic. 
These are no braving Tones.  Cic. Lord. 
Yet nearer, nearer still.  Cic. 
Beat up our Drums, and drown their Hornets sound.  Enter the King of Thrace and Lords, his Drum unbrased Ensigns folded up, himself in a Palmer's Gown, Hat, and Staff. Cic. 
How now, what are these?  1 Cic. Lord. 
Mummers my Lord, I think. Set down your Drums, we'll play for all your Crowns; I am sure you know me, you have too much cause.  Phe. 
Behold great Sir, my Ensigns folded up, my Drums unbraced, and all those instruments that should encourage War, quite put to silence; there's not a hand in all our warlike Host that's armed for opposition or defence.  2 Cic. Lord. 
Is this the man would lash us from his Land with whips of Steel?  Cic. 
Where are the horses, to whose curled Tails we must be bound and dragged along the streets?  1 Th. Lord. 
Can you, my Lord, bear these injurious brands?  
This would put life in statues carved with hands,  
Much more encourage Cowards; we that late  
Persuaded you to peace, upon our knees  
Entreat you to command your Ensigns wave,  
And by our ancient Honours, which our foes  
Cannot without a blushing cheek deny,  
We'll make'em know they do defy their Victors.  Phe. 
He forfeits his Allegiance that again presumes to motion War: I wish my sorrows shadows, but alas they are too real, too essential, they dwell not in the face and outward brow, but have their habitation here within, where they torment me, and shall ever till I behold Cicilia's Son secured, and my fair Daughter fast closed in my arms, those two poor innocent and spotless souls whom my remorseless rage and tyranny hath sold to all afflictions  Cic. 
Speak Pheander, are not-those passions merely counterfeit? Do they proceed from Fear and Cowardice, that thus thou fold'st thy warlike Ensigns up, and without stroke of battle giv'st the day? Or which I rather deem, from Policy and Matchevillian cunning?  Phe. 
Neither Prince: but mere repentance for my late misdeed, which is so heinous in the eyes of Heaven, it seems beyond their pardon; therefore now in expiation of that horrid act, and to inflict due penance on myself, all Regal ornaments of State put off Awe and Command that wait on Majesty. I henceforth vow a lasting Pilgrimage, either to bring the Prince thy Son alive, and tender him to safety in thine arms withal, with her fair Beauty in rich Thrace, robbed of so rare a Jewel; Or if dead, end the remainder of my afflicted hours in exile and forsaken solitude, in deserts scare discovered.  Cic. 
A sad Vow.  Phe. 
To make which good, to thee Cicillia's King, in part of recompense to thy great wrongs, I here resign all State and Empire up, my Crown, my Sceptre, and Majestic Orb, until the Truce prefixed be quite expired; And charge you all on your Allegiance, Lords, that you the Faith and Homage sworn to me, pay to this King in all just Loyalty. This Pilgrim's weed be now my Robe of State, no other gay Trim will Pheander wear; my Sword, the Sword of Justice born before now, is now no better than a Palmer's Staff, by which I will do justice on myself in humble penance; and in stead of Gold, and Cups of hollowed Pearl, in which I used to quaff deep Healths of rich Pomegranate Wine, this Scallop shall be now my Drinking cup to sip cold water. I am now, Cicillia, a man reformed; for lo I die to State,  
Live only to Devotion. Lords adieu,  
These are my arms you Kingdom to pursue.  Exit. Phe. 
I hear your PRINCE's mind, and hope his vows are out of his mere zeal and penitence which I accept, will you accord with him, and promise your true Fealties to us?  1 Thr. 
L. As we to him were, we are now to you, as loyal and as faithful, 'twas his pleasure, and we submit to both, acknowledging his wrongs to you, and take them at the best, far above all forgiveness.  2. Thr. 
L. You cannot boast of any Conquest won,  
To gain a kingdom, and lose such a Son.  Scicil. 
This to us is a full satisfaction, and my Lords, we know how to require your gratitude, the Regency by him assigned to us we in our bounty reassign to you, be your own Lords, excepting still the fealty due to your Sovereign at his back return, in whose forced absence should you use our aid, we shall be your Protector.  Thr. Lords. 
Noble in all his Arts is Sicily.  Scicil. 
Billet our Soldiers in such Neighboring-towns, where Victual and best Harbour may be had; withal Proclaim not the least violence be done to any Thracian, they are ours now, though under your command. Here was a happy War fought without blows, yet no dishonour in't, he that endures such War within, can be no coward sure.  
In all designs this still must be confessed,  
He that himself subdues, conquers the best.  Exeunt.  

ACT. 3. SCENE. 2.  Enter Alcade King of Africa, Sophos, Lillia Guida, Tromp. Flor. Eusanius, and Moors, and Guard. Alcad. 
WHere's Sophos?  Soph. 
Here my Lord.  Alcad. 
Has our command been well effected that we gave in charge?  Soph. 
Great King, it has.  Alcad. 
Our purse and people are at thy dispose, leave an army of the stoutest men Afrique affords: we love thee, thou art honest. In Africa the Moors are only known, and never yet searched part of Christendom; nor do we levy Arms against their Religion, but like a Prince and Royal Justicer, to patron Right, and supplant Tyranny.  
We are in this as Gods, and in like care,  
Should punish Ignomy, and Virtue spare.  Eusan. 
They gave a partial measure that subscribed Afrique within so small and strict a limit, making great Europe boundless. Royal Sir, give me but leave to go with Sophos to the Thracian Wars, that I may speak your Fame unto the world, and where you are but heard of, make you famous. If ever Fame or Valour crown my youth with the least Honours, all my services I'll dedicate to you and my fair Mistress, Wonder of her Sex, whose beauty shines like to a Star amongst so many clouds of her own Nation. Lillia Guida's name shall be as much in Christendom, as Greekish Hellen's was. God sir, speak for me.  Sophos. 
'Thad been my first request, but that I feared  
It would offend your Mistress: she being pleased,  
Upon my knee I do entreat for you.  Lillia. 
To show my willingness. I'll be the third myself, and humbly crave it may not be denied; I do not love to be attended on in a wrought Nightcap, obeyed with quilted calves, give me a man that Agues cannot quake, nor fire tremble. Pardon me Princely Father, it is your spirit speaks, I am your own, and by that privilege become your Suitor.  Alcad. 
Our Daughter has prevailed, Sophos your ear.  Lillia. 
To give encouragement unto thy hopes, receive this favour; may it prove a charm unto thy arm, and double puissance add unto thy strength, when any danger's extant.  1 Moor. 
This it was that I long since suspected, this shall prove his tragic Fate, and ruin to her love.  Eus. 
You grace me beyond merit; while I live I will make known your honours, rank your name amongst the bravest Dames of Christendom; and when I view this Scarf, it will infuse undaunted vigour, make me overcome impossibilities, there easy to desire.  Alcad. 
Treason, didst say?  1 Moor. 
Against your Majesty, dishonour of your fair and beauteous Child, their motions, gestures, looks, and conference I have observed and watched with jealous eyes, and find 'em all corrupt. Lack, my Liege, behold before your face their amorous fire breaks forth into bright flames, is't not apparent? his suit to leave the Court, her seconding his Treason with a Boon and Favour too. You thought 'twas his desire to go to Wars, believe it not, there's no such man in him: It is some secret Plot they have contrived to fly away. Prevent it speedily.  Alcad. 
Thou hast infused a spirit into my breast I never yet did feel: strange impudence! Ambition never heard of in a Peasant! A slave that neither knows his birth nor breeding, should thus presume for to seduce a Princess! Hence with that Traitor, let him have a death as horrid as his crime.  Soph. 
How's this?  Eus. 
A Traitor?  1 Moor. 
I Traitor: Traitor, sirrah.  Eus. 
Sirrah, you lie, this shall maintain't 'gainst thee or any dares affirm this Title. Mount us, great King, upon some lofty spire, where is but room for two, place him amidst an host in this just Cause to clear my honour, and her innocence: I'll pierce through armed Guards, and make my way through halberds, Pikes, and deadly killing shot, break through many Battles, sally through whole Squadrons, and make him like a confused lump that ne'er had form. Guard me you sacred Powers, lest I forget time, presence, place, and on this ugly slave commit an outrage.  Alcad. 
Kill, and stop his fury: insolent boy, how dares thy violence offer itself in blows, and we in presence? Had we no other cause, this were enough to take away thy Life. Away with him.  Soph. 
Stay yet, dear sir, as ever I deserved grace at your hand, hear me first speak: Behold him bow to you, that in your Cause hath made great Kings to kneel, and tender you submission; for my sake let him not suffer death, 'tis undeserved, I will engage all that I have on earth that he is loyal; let not false surmise, suspect, and jealousy beget belief to wrong your Princely thoughts. In killing him, you make me guilty, and a murderer; for I first brought him hither, to my hands he did commit his life, being a child, when on the Plain of Thrace I took him up, let him not lose it at a holy Altar, and PRINCE's Courts are such, and should maintain as divine Privilege as Sanctuary:  
For Kings that circle in themselves with death,  
Poison the Air in which themselves draw breath.  Lil. 
Blessed be that Orator: Gracious Father.  Alcad. 
Let her not speak, her words confirm suspect: bear her away unto her private chamber, there let her be confined a prisoner, till we determine further.  1 Moor. 
It shall be done.  Exit. Guard with Lillia. Alcad. 
Sophost, his life is thine, but not his freedom.  Eus. 
Durance? Worse than death.  Alcade. 
No banishment save Africa; make all the world thine own.  Soph. 
The Kings all mercy.  Eus. 
I'll Proclaim as much.  1 Moor. 
ay but my Lord, what safety for my life, which he so much hath threatened?  Eus. 
I scorn to touch thy life, thou timorous slave,  
But Traitors are all Cowards: Fare thee well,  
And my dear Foster-father, wanting whom  
I lose my better part; Thus they thrive,  
That cannot flatter Kings, feel death alive.  Exit Eusanius. Alcade. 
Nay Sophos, be not sad, 'tis thy pretended good that we pursue, the Girl was wanton, and the Boy was young, and Love is kindled by desire as soon in one poor minute as an age of time: we banished him that she might fancy thee, whom we intend shall have her, 'tis true as we are royal, if you please for to accept of her.  Sophos. 
'Tis an honour that I shall never merit, to spouse a  
princess of her excellency;  
For I have nothing worthy her affection,  
She cannot give consent to love a man,  
That's banished from his Land and native soil:  
I have no titles for to honour her,  
And that's a thing that women most affect.  Alcade. 
Sir, you inherit virtue, that's a thing no mortal can restore, all other State we will invest you with, the crown of Thrace shall be your own, or cost ten thousand lives, our sable Ensigns never yet before displayed beyond the Mediterean Sea, shall now be seen to fly, men have livers there pale as their faces, and when we appear, will frighted run from such a Golden soil; our homebred fear have end, foreign foes must be our conquest now.  
Come my best Sophos, ere the next moon spring,  
My child shall call thee husband, Thrace her King.  Tromp. Flor. Exeunt Omnes.  
Finis Actus Tertii.   

ACT. 4. SCENE. 1.  Enter Pheander in a Pilgrim's habit alone reading the Oracle. Phe 
COntent shall keep in town and field, etc.  
I know not in what sense to apprehend it,  
So intricate this matter seems to me;  
Yet in these latter lines I read a comfort.  Read. 
Then shall a shepherd from the plains,  
Restore your Health and Crown again.  
There is a sign of truth already past, for when Apollo did pronounce this doom, I was a king, and did enjoy my Crown, and I must be deposed before restored. But then the man, I there's the doubt of all, for ever since I took this Pilgrim's habit, I have wandered up and down to find this shepherd; wandered indeed, for in the search of him I have lost myself, sitting upon the plain, I saw a face of such surpassing beauty, that Jove and Nature should they both contend, to make a shape of their mixed purity, could not invent a sky-born form so beautiful as she, be she a mortal, and a shepherdess, her beauty may become a PRINCE's Court. Why may not I wedding this shepherd's Queen, beget an heir that may restore my Crown? I'll lay my life the Oracle meant so, the stars from earthly humours gain their light, our humours from their lights possess their powers: but now the means for to obtain this prize, I'll send a private messenger to Court, to bid Pallatio with a well Armed-troop, at such a certain hour-to meet me here, and lie in secret ambush 'bout the house.  
I will conceal myself, and watch a time,  
To bear away this Wonder of our Clime.  Stands aside. Enter Ariadna and Titterus after her singing, etc. Titter. 
Oh stay, oh turn, oh pity me, that sighs, that sues for love of thee,  
Oh lack I never loved before, if you deny, I'll ne'er love more.  
No hope no help, then wretched I, must lose, must lack, must pine, and die,  
Since you neglect when I implore,  Dance. 
Farewell hard, I'll ne'er love more,  Enter Pallemon frantically habited, dancing over the Stage, old Antimon, antic-like, Clown-like maid Marian. Tit. 
Here's a sight gives a fresh wound unto my love-sick heart, to think a man that was reputed wise, should lose himself in a daedalian maze, and run mad for a woman, woman that's the cause, it is indeed happy remembrance in searching out his wound, I have cured myself, shall I see my brother wits caught in a pursenet, and run my head into the same noose, then count me for a Woodcock; no, I am now the man I was, and will still say,  
There is not any wise man, that fancy can a woman,  
Then never turn your eyes on a thing that is so common;  
For be they foul or fair,  
They tempting devils are, since they first fell,  
They that love do live in Hell, and therefore men beware.  Exit. Ariad. 
What a distraction's this? was ever seen so strange a dotage, not in him alone, but 'tis in general? that did not grief usurp too much upon a heart suppressed, 'twere mirth would move to laughter.  Enter Eusanius like a Shepherd. 
This is no Louse sure, I know him not,  
Yet I mistrust the hanging of his head,  
I'll note him further; 'tis a handsome fellow.  Eus. 
This habit is most frequent in this place, I'll wear't for fashion sake, 'tmay be a means to gain a sight of the fair Shepherdess, whose beauty fills the climb with wonderment.  Ariad. 
Alas poor man, he's troubled too in mind,  
Would I could overhear him: how he stands!  Eus. 
I know not where to lie, and it grows late, I have not since I entered on these Plains, seen any creature that has humane sense. A woman first! good luck and be thy will.  Ariad. 
Why kneel you, sir?  Eus. 
Not to ask blessing, Sweet,  
That were a foul disgrace unto a Virgin.  Ariad. 
For aught you know I am a Mother, sit.  Eus. 
Would you were mine. Please you, I'll make you one.  Ariad. 
I thank your love sir, but I am one already.  Eus. 
Then my suit's at an end; yet one word more.  Ariad. 
What is't, sit? I'm in haste.  Enter Radagon. Eus. 
No more but this, nay in your ears, lest you misconstrue me.  Rad. 
So close and privately, than I perceive I have been too neglectful, shallow fool! that having had such opportunity, so long continuance, place, and privacy, durst never utter thy affections. When I beheld her first I fancied her, and more because she favoured my dead wife, whose memory I still mourn: but since she's gone, rather than lose regeneration, I could wed with her; she's fair, and may be honest, though the world deem 'em Contrarieties: I'm seen, and must go on.  Ariad. 
Menalchus! you come as wished for: here's a stranger, Sir, that wants reposure, will you for my sake allow him entertain; the night draws on, and 'twere unhospitable to deny him, you shall command as great a courtesy.  Rad. 
I doubt it not. To me you're welcome sir, such homely Cates as a poor Cottage yields, you shall be sure to taste. Shepherds in this comes nearest to the Gods; for they allow the smallest hospitality, witness when Baucis feasted Jupiter:  Ariad. 
For that I'll interrupt you, you shall both before you part from hence, taste of our cheer. Whence is that aged man? pray question him, let him not go before he have relief.  Rad. 
Come nearer, father, 'tis a great wonder to see a Pilgrim wander in these parts. What Countryman?  Phe. 
A Roman, gentle sir, one that hath vowed in weary pilgrimage, to spend the poor remainder of his days; to such you know all places are alike.  Eus. 
How long have you continued in this Land?  Phe. 
But a small time.  Eus. 
You have not seen the Court?  Phe. 
Not yet, fair sir.  Rad. 
What should we do at Court? we have a King knows no Religion, heathens, infidels inhabit there; the poor live most secure, for as they know no good, they fear no ill: but we must not decipher. Come sit down.  Eus. 
Fair Mistress.  Ariad. 
Good sir sit, this is my place. Menalchus' seat you. Fie, fie, compliment.  Ariad. 
Here's no variety, but such as 'tis, if you can feed, you're welcome, shepherds fare.  Eus. 
We thank you.  Rad. 
Sir, fall to, you're sad methinks.  Phe. 
Not sad, but somewhat grieved to think report should scandalize so sweet a Continent, not only Foreigners, but Thracians born, hate and abhor the climb and Government, saying, it is infectious, and your King a misbelieving Tyrant, infamous.  Ariad. 
Where heard you this?  Phe. 
All Thrace proclaims as much.  Rad. 
I cannot tell: but trust me sir, 'tis thought it was a cruel deed, not like a King, much less a Father, having but one child to banish her, and for so small a fault.  Eus. 
What was the offence?  Rad. 
A customary thing, I cannot well appropriate a name.  Ariad. 
Is it so sleight? and do you shame to utter't?  Rad. 
Your presence must excuse me, otherwise  
I should have found a Title.  Ariad. 
Then I'll speak. It was so heinous, and so vild a fact, the King could not in justice pardon it, 'twas a disgrace to him, shame to her Sex, dishonour to herself and Progeny. What greater infamy unto a King, than for to blot his name with bastardy?  Rad. 
You speak well in the defence of Virtue, Sweet; but if such defaults should be so punished, we should have but few women in our kingdom: Admit the Princess in her wanton blood committed such an error, do but think what frailty is, the baits, nay more, 'tis thought that they were man and wife; if it were so, he could be little better than a Tyrant.  Phe. 
A Tyrant, nay á villain, murderer. Pray pardon me, I must and will have leave to speak my conscience, should I see the King, I'd tell him to his face he were a Tyrant. Say she did err, he was the cause on't, not suffering her to wed where she did love: What may his Subjects think, he being dead for want of Issue, they shall servile be to Turks and Infidels, if worse than he can anywhere be found?  Ari. 
Dotard forbear, thou hast already spoke more than thy life can ever satisfy. If that the King had known they had been married, questionless he would have been more merciful; but that rests in suspicion, his sentence was pronounced as they were guilty, not as man and wife, and then what punishment can be too great? his supposed ill was so much lenity, to live had been to die a lingering death, for reputation is the life of honour, and that once lost, the Mother hates the child, curses the man she did commix withal, and like a shamefaced Felon, seeks to shun the face of every one that knows her guilt.  Phe. 
Admiredst of all women, now I see  
There is much Virtue lives in poverty.  Eusa. 
And yet methinks the mother's shame, is not to be compared unto the injury the child sustains; for she receives her sorrows by consent, but the poor infant guiltless of the fact, grown to maturity, shall bear the brand of Bastard by his birth, be dispossessed of all inheritance due to the Seed that's sown in holy wedlock; if a curse belong unto the issue of base lusts, 'tis given to the child for to bestow on those that did beget him, sure I think whoe'er he was that wronged so fair a Dame, as your king's Daughter, could be no true Prince, but some base upstart that deluded her, under a feigned title.  Radag. 
Slave thou liest.  Radagon strikes him with his hook, she holds Eus. Phe. Radagon. Ariad. 
Had you e'er a Mother sir?  Eusa. 
I cannot tell. Unhand me.  Ariad. 
For my sake, Pheand. whispers with Rodag .or if there be a woman in the world whom you affect, in her name I conjure ye let my tears assuage your just moved anger, it will discredit me, endanger you, if you should strike him here, I'll give you reason.  Radag. 
This is some fallery, it cannot be.  Phe. 
Now by my holy vow what I prescribe I will approve, I know you love this woman, the revelation of Celestial Orbs, the Aspects and influence of heavenly planets do direct my skill, by Palmistry and Physiognomy. I have declared to king's accidents past, portents to come, and told to what event present designs should run, what should I make experiments of Art on him that not believes it?  Rad. 
Troth I do.  Phe. 
Then reconcile yourself unto this man, let him by no means use to visit her, for in the hour of his nativity, some powerful working star was in conjunction with too forward Venus, take him from her, and all th' auxiliary heavenly helps, that may give Physic to a Love-sick heart, I'll invocate to be benevolent, and ere too morrow sun, she shall be yours.  Ariad. 
See sir, he comes towards you.  Radag. 
Sir, for my rash offence I'm sorry.  Ariad. 
What would ye more good sir?  Radag. 
If you desire a further satisfaction, you shall have it.  Eus. 
How?  Radag. 
Thus.  Eus. 
'Tis accepted.  Phe. 
This device took well. Now to my plot.  Exit. Phe. Ariad. 
I fear you are not friends yet.  Radag. 
Who not we, why should you think so? look you, we embrace, shake hands, nay more, we will be bedfellows, and early in the morn revisit you.  Ariad. 
Where lies the palmer? Gone, and take no leave.  Radag. 
Oh fear not him, he is provided for. Come sir, take leave and part.  Exeunt they two. Ariad. 
Good rest to both, there is a fire kindled in my breast, I have not felt a flame this twenty years, betwixt these two, I stand in a dilemma, not knowing which to fancy or forsake, so equal my heart doth stand affected.  Enter Pheander again, and two Lords in ambush. Phe. 
That's she, I'll not be seen.  Ariad. 
I am resolved, since from them both I am freed thus,  
I'll conclude he that first speaks shall speed.  1 Lord. 
That's I.  2 Lord. 
I.  Ariad. 
Help, help.  1 Lord. 
It is in vain to call.  Ariad. 
Oh would this hour might be my Funeral.  Exeunt. Enter Antimon and Clown, Antimon brave, antically attired in brave Clothes. Ant. 
A Glass, a glass, a glass, I'll trust my face no more in the fair water, 'tis not bright enough to show me in my smugness, reach a glass.  Clo. 
A Looking-glass?  Ant 
A Looking-glass I say.  Clo. 
You shall sir presently, there's one stands under my bed.  Ant. 
Why that's a jordan, fool.  Clo. 
So much the better father, 'tis but making water in't, and than you may behold your sweet Phisnomy in the clear streams of the river Jordan.  Ant. 
I smell 'twill be a match.  Clo. 
If you smell a match, take heed of your nose, for a little thing will set it a fire.  Ant. 
How sits my suit? is it not spruce and neat?  Clo. 
A most impertinent suit, I assure you.  Ant. 
She cannot choose but love me now, I'm sure old Menophon ne'er courted in such clothes, were it not best I should leave off some part of this my bravery, lest appearing suddenly in this bright splendour, the wenches overcome, and ravished with my sight, fall at dissension, and so go byth' ears about me.  Clo. 
'Twas well remembered, that in any case look you put off some of those glittering Weeds, until you see your Mistress, all the Maids will be stark mad to see you; do but mark when they behold you, how they'll fight for you, you'll hardly scape their fingers I'm afraid.  Ant. 
ay, sayest thou so? here do thou wear 'em then,  
And give 'em me when Mariana comes.  Clo. 
Yes marry will I, if you can, overtake me,  
I'll court her first myself. Father, farewell.  Ant. 
Nay, but.  Clo. 
I shoot at no such Butts. Father, farewell.  Ant. 
Oh villain, slave, I have sold half my Flocks.  
To buy these Clothes, and now am cheated.  Enter Titterus and Serena. 
See if the Rogue has not sent company to laugh at me: if Tityrus should see me in this shape, he would make a Ballad on't. I'll after him, and if I catch the Rascal, I'll say nothing.  Exit Ant. Tit. 
Yet Beauty of these fields be less obdure,  
And stay his laboring brains of that great toil  
In which it travels for thee.  Seren. 
Love a madman?  Tit. 
If he be mad, 'tis you have made him so.  
Can you not fancy your own workmanship?  
Will you not cure him whom you helped to kill?  Serena. 
Were his hurts made in the body, I have helping herbs and such choice simples, as should cure his wounds; no shepherdess knows better than myself how to restore him.  
But where that Herb or Science can ye find,  
That hath the virtue to restore the mind?  Tit. 
Mind; he minded you too much, the more fool he,  
That man's mad that minds any of you all;  
For you are, let me see,  
Foolish, idle toys. that Nature gave unto us,  
But to curb our joys, and only to undo us;  
For since Lucretia's fall, there are none chaste at all:  
Or if perchance there be, one in an Empory,  
Some other malady makes her far worse than she.  
Out upon ye all.  
'I were too much to tell the follies that attend ye,  
He must love you well that can but discommend ye;  
For your deserts are such, man cannot rail too much:  
Nor is the world so blind, but it may easily find,  
The body or mind tainted in woman kind.  
Oh, the devil take you all.  Ser. 
Have you now done?  Tit. 
Done? 'Sfoot, if I could find words enough, and bad enough, I'd rail at you all till tomorrow morning.  Ser. 
If ye should, I'll have the last word.  
I have been silent yet, vex me no more:  
For if I once begin, I'll make thee mad too,  
And send thy Wits a woolgathering,  
After thy brothers.  Enter Radagon and Eusanius. Tit. 
What the devil are these women made of?  
Do not think I would surcease my suit,  
But for this interruption.  Rad. 
Is there no valley, nor no mountains top  
Free from these Clamours? You see we are intercepted:  
But for these, this should have been the place.  Eus. 
Let's watch a fitter time, and spy a place of more conveniency.  Rad. 
'Tis agreed: All friends.  Eus. 
Till then.  Rad. 
Think you I meant otherwise?  Eus. 
No.  Rad. 
Well then.  Enter Antimon running after the Clown. Clo. 
Oh father, well overtaken.  Ant. 
'Tis well you are returned sir, I was coming,  
I was e'en coming for you? How now, what are these?  Rad. 
Receive this stranger to your fellowship,  
A partner and a brother, that desires a life retired  
And if my genius prompts me not amiss,  
He will deserve our Loves.  Tit. 
However sir, to me he's welcome,  
Chiefly for your sake my love I tender.  Rad. 
Pray know this man, this is the jovialest shepherd in all Thrace.  Eus. 
His Aspect speaks for him. Sir, I desire to be known  
Better to you, and you fair Dame, whose beauty adds more  
Lustre to these fields, than all that summer Flora can produce.  Ser. 
And these plains much honoured by your presence.  Ant. 
Receive a welcome too of Antimon.  Clo. 
And I his son Sir, welcome good partner;  
Nay good sir, I crave less of your courtesy,  
And more of your acquaintance.  Ant. 
Since we are met by chance so luckily,  
Let us proceed unto our countries pastimes,  
To give this courteous stranger entertain.  Clo. 
ay, good father, Let's not lose our sports in any case:  Ser. 
Whom shall we crave to call upon the Queen.  Rad. 
That office shall be mine, stay my return:  
Now if the Palmer do but keep his word,  
I shall enjoy what I so long have wished.  Enter a Shepherd wounded, running. 
Ha, what sad object's this? How camest thou wounded?  Clo. 
Sure some sheep has bit him.  Rad. 
Speak how camest thou hurt?  Shep. 
In rescue of our Queen, basely surprised.  Rad. 
Surprised? by whom?  Shep. 
By Thrace his King, who Pilgrim-like wrapped in a russet weed, taking advantage when she was alone, has with a private ambush, stole her hence.  Rad. 
To the Court-gates let us pursue the Ravisher, his Court and all the powers that he can raise, shall not protect him. Plague upon his craft: Is this his skill in Physiognomy? Worthy friend, let me but call you so, and let our strife be buried in our loves: The Cause removed, let the effect thus die: and as our hands, so let our hearts unite to take revenge on this injurious king.  Eus. 
Sir, what is yet scarce man, my heart shall ripen,  
I'll stretch beyond my years and power of strength,  
But I'll assist you in this enterprise:  Tit. 
Let's muster all the shepherds to our aid,  
And fetch her back per force.  Rad. 
In the mean time, be it your charge to cure this  
Wounded Swain, that sought to rescue her.  Ser. 
I'll use my best of skill.  Ant. 
Old as I am,  
I'll go along, and let my Mistress know,  
The King of Thrace makes Antimon his foe.  Clown. 
If I light on him handsomely, I'll have a bout with him at Quarterstaff.  Tit. 
One thing let me entreat, to draw my frantic brother to the field, inform him 'tis Serena is stolen hence, to prove if either terror of the Wars, his Mistress loss, or sight of death and blood, can win him to his wits.  Rad. 
Persuaded well.  Clown. 
What's he will take that charge?  
Marry that will I, let me alone with him,  
I'll put it in his pate, I cannot say his brains,  
Because he has none: I'll fetch him presently.  Exit. Rad. 
Whom shall we make our General, and Leader of this Rabble?  Tit. 
Who but yourself shall we impose so great a Charge upon?  Rad. 
Rather bestow it on this noble youth.  Eus. 
That warlike Charge would not become my years,  
I shall be proud to be your Soldier, sir.  Enter Pallemon and Clown. Pal. 
Give me my Arms, I'll fetch her back again.  Clown. 
Give you more Legs, you'll ne'er o'ertake her else.  Pal. 
I'll leap into the Saddle of the Moon,  
And tie two Stars unto my heels, like Spurs;  
I'll make my warlike Lance of a Sunbeam,  
And mounted on some strange Bucephalus,  
Thus will I overthrow my Enemy.  Clown. 
This 'tis to keep madmen company, that has not the wit to know his friends from his foes; but we shall have your brains beat in again.  Pal. 
Sirrah, take the Moon, and place it me upon the Axletree, I'll mount on horseback straight.  Clown. 
The Moon's not up yet, sir, some three hours hence you shall be sure to have her.  Pal. 
How know you that, sir?  Clown. 
Well enough sir, 'tis a shepherd that keeps her,  
And he's called The Man in the Moon.  Pal. 
I'll fetch a sheepskin then to make a Drum,  
Ta, ra, ranta, ra, tan, tara, ran tan.  Exit. Rad. 
He has possessed him well, let him go on.  
Now courage, Fellow-soldiers, and let's try  
To fetch her back, or in her quarrel die.  Exeunt. Tromp. Flor. Enter Pheander, Lords, Drums, Colours, and Soldiers. Phe. 
Is't possible the number of the Swains  
Should be so many?  2 Lord. 
Full five hundred strong.  Phe. 
What's their pretence?  1 Lord. 
That's yet unknown, my Lord, unless it be to have their Queen again.  Phe. 
How should they know 'twas we that stole her thence?  1 Lord. 
Belike the Swains that sought to rescue her, heard some one name the King; no other cause could give intelligence, 'twas done so private.  Phe. 
What should we fear? Let's meet 'em in the field,  
Were their Force trebled o'er, when we appear  
They'll fly like Hares that fear the Lions frowns.  
How might we do for to behold the Rebels?  1 Lord. 
They lie so low entrenched beyond the hill that fronts the Castle-gate, that no Prospect about the house can yield the least survey.  Phe. 
Let's Parley with 'em then, so we may hear what they pretend, and view their Regiment.  2 Lord. 
Here is a Herald to the same effect arrived at Court.  Phe. 
Go, bring him in, we'll hear what brave Defiance they have sent.  Enter old Antimon with a piece of painted Cloth, like a Herald's Coat, Clown sounding a Tucket before him. 
Now sir, the Prologue to this bloody Tragedy.  Ant. 
I am a Herald, come to tell the King,  
That he has done a most mischievous thing:  
We had but one fair Ewe amongst our Lambs,  
And he has stolen her, with his wolvish Rams;  
For which our Shepherds vow by force of Arms,  
To fetch her back, kill all, but do no harm:  
But if you'll set her free, they bid me say,  
They'll take her home, and so make Holiday.  Omnes Lords. 
Ha, ha, ha, ha.  Ant. 
It seems they are not angry at my words, because they laugh, I feared they'd draw their swords.  Phe. 
Tell 'em we render thanks for their good mirth,  
And would entreat a Parley, if they'll come  
And meet us here under the Castlewall.  Ant. 
You would entreat 'em fairly for to come?  Phe. 
I thought as much. Go you along with him, and tell their General what you heard us say.  2 Lord. 
I shall. Come, show me to your General.  Exeunt. 1 Lord. 
Will you in person parley with the Rout?  Phe. 
Why not?  1 Lord. 
'Tis dangerous, for fear the Swains,  
Not knowing what belongs to Law of Arms,  
Being once crossed, should offer violence.  Phe. 
'Tis well advised: Pastatio bid our Guard  
Be near our person, bring up all our Troops  
Close to the Gates, that if occasion serve,  
They may at unawares make issue forth,  
And cut off all the Reár. See it performed,  
I have a trick new crept into my brain,  
And if my Policy deceive me not,  A march within. 
Shall bring these several bodies to one head,  
And crown all my Designs with full event.  
They're coming, keep your Ranks.  Enter all the Shepherds, Radagon, Eusanius, Titterus, Pallemon, Clown, Antimon. Phe. 
Which is the General?  Omnes. 
This.  Phe. 
We would exchange some private words with him.  Radag. 
You are deceived; I better understand  
The Name and Honour of a General,  
Than to disgrace it 'gainst the Law of Arms;  
Though we are not so expert as those men  
That daily practice 'em, yet you shall find  
We'll make a shift to right our injuries.  Phe. 
'S death! where learned he this Discipline?  
Are Shepherds now become such Martialists?  
I see I must dissemble.  Radag. 
If you have aught to say, speak publicly  
No private Protestations, Bribes, nor Fears,  
Have power to convert our Resolutions.  
We need not to capitulate our Wrongs,  
They are too apparent. Let us see our Queen,  
And if she have received the smallest wrong,  
A general ruin shall o'erspread the Land;  
We'll fire thy Castles, burn up all thy Towns,  
And make a Desolation of thy people:  Phe. 
You cannot be so shallow, as to think I took her with a lustful appetite? This honoured Badge proclaims that lust is past. Our seizing her was motive to your good, if you conceive it. List, and I'll explain it: Within our Land our foes are resident, Scicilla's King, under whose Government these many years you have been Servitors. The reason this: When he did first invade, we found ourselves too weak to make resistance, and under show of satisfaction we did resign to him our Dignity, pretending search of Radagon his son; which he accepted, and did back return to Sicilia, leaving Deputy to Govern here. And though Pallatio bore the name of Rule, it was by his permission. Do but weigh the servile yoke of foreign Government, what danger may ensue, what privilege you lose in Thrace, if we be dispossessed, the time of Truce expired, and he's returned to take possession? For without his son, our Crown and Kingdom both are forfeited into his hands; which yet we may prevent, if you'll agree to join your Force with ours, and back expulse him. We'll not only grant your Queen her liberty, but we'll enlarge your former Privilege; give you choice of State, Honour, and Dignity, make you Lords and Knights, and in remembrance of the Shepherd's Wars, add a new Festival; which at your charge shall yearly be performed. Consider on't.  Rad. 
Happy Position! thanks great Justicer,  
Occasion puts revenge into my hand,  
To think that I should be so fortunate,  
To be Commander of a Band of men,  
To war against my father, blessed Event.  Phe. 
What's your reply?  Clown. 
Good General, consent,  
I have a foolish desire to be a Lord.  Phe. 
And what shall I be?  Clown. 
You shall be a Lord too, and if you'll be quiet,  
There are a great many mad Lords.  Phe. 
What answer do you give?  Rad. 
Were it in me  
To give an answer, you should soon prevail,  
But 'tis a General voice; for my own part  
My service, and myself I offer to you.  Eus. 
And so do I.  Tit. 
And I.  Omnes. 
So do we all.  Phe. 
A King that's thus held up can never fall.  
Draw all your force within the Castle Walls,  
'Tis large and spacious, and will well contain 'em.  
This night we'll feast, tomorrow shall be seen  
Your loves to us.  Rad. 
Ours to the shepherd's Queen.  Exeunt omnes. 
Finis Actus quartii.   

ACT. 5. SCENE. 1.  Drum and Colours. Enter Scicillia, Lords, and Soldiers. Scicil. 
IS all our Army in a readiness,  
prepared for battle if occasion serve?  2 Lord. 
They are, my Lord.  Scicil. 
This day our truce takes end, the king returned,  
And we expect our son's delivery.  1 Lord. 
Pray heaven it be so happy, but I fear  
A worse intent, for all the way he comes  
The Commons rise, shepherds and silly Swains  
That never were enured to carry swords,  
Take Arms and follow him.  Scicil. 
What's that to us?  
Did he not make a vow ne'er to return,  
Until he found my Son? may be he comes  
For to invest us King, and offer sacrifice  
Unto the Gods, and so conclude this weary Pilgrimage.  1 Lord. 
You speak, my Liege, as you yourself would do,  
But he that dared to banish 'em,  
Think you he fears to violate an oath?  
'Tis ill to trust a reconciled foe,  
Be still in readiness, you do not know  
How soon he may assault us.  Scicil. 
Thou speakest but well, 'tis good to doubt the worst,  
We may in our belief be too secure;  
As King's forbidden to condemn the just,  
So Kings for safety must not blame mistrust.  Enter 2 Lord. 
Why is this haste?  
To bid you haste to Arms,  
The foe comes on, the sentinels fall off,  
The Scouts are posting up and down the Plain,  
To fetch in all the stragglers. Thrace's King  
Has break his vow, and seeks by force of Arms  
For to expulse you.  1 Lord. 
Will ye yet give credit  
To a tyrant's oath?  Scicil. 
By you bright Sphere I vow, and if there be  
A greater punishment for perjury  
Reigning on earth, then is the conscience sting,  
I will inflict it on this perjured man.  
You spirits resolute 'gainst fear and death,  
You that have hither to maintained your being  
In equal power, like Rivals to the Gods,  
Now show your Valour, let us not debate  
Our wrongs like women; for the wrath of Kings  
Is like an angry Cloud, swollen big with fire,  
Soft charge. that speaks revenge in thunder; hark they charge.  
Beat a defiance See, the signal's given,  
Who dies in this just cause, shall live in heaven.  Allarum. 
The shepherds give the first assault, and beat off some of the Sicilian Lords.  Enter Eusanius driving over Scicilla. Enter Radagon. Rad. 
The fury of this Boy will overthrow  
All my Designs; twice since the Fight begun,  
In spite of my best Art, he has unhorsed  
My Royal Father, and the last Career  
Drew blood from his shrunk veins, yet the good old man,  
Like to an aged Oak that long hath stood,  
Endangers all that seeks to cut him down;  
He does not bear that fearful Policy,  
That many use to fight in base disguise,  
But has a White Flag carried before him,  
Which does signify the justice of his Cause, is innocence;  
Or as a mark, as if a man should say,  
I am the Butt you aim at, shoot at me.  
The greatest Conquest I have won this day,  
Hath been the preservation of his Life,  
With hazard of mine own: In my pursuit,  
Thinking to place him in his Court of Guard,  
I followed him so far, that I was forced  
To make retire, for to recover breath.  Enter Eusanius with Scicillia prisoner. Eus. 
Why do you sound a Retreat? the Day is ours,  
See, here's their King, I knew him by his Ensign,  
Which I seized in spite of all opposed.  
Here General, to your hands I do commit him.  
Carry Thrace's King this as a ransom for the Shepherd's Queen.  Soft Allarum. 
Hark, the fight renews, one hour more makes a full Conquest, and I'll ne'er give o'er till it be finished.  Exit. Rad. 
But that no fame or credit can be got to conquer Age,  
I'd scorn for to present another's prisoner.  Scicil. 
Aged as I am, had I a sword I'd scorn as much to be subdued by thee.  Rad. 
That shall be tried. Here, take your Arms again.  Scicil. 
Art thou in earnest then? Come on i'faith. How now?  
What means this, wilt thou not fight with me?  Rad. 
Yes sir, that I will, with you I'll fight,  
But never fight against you. See the man  
That thrice this day preserved you from your foe,  
And the last time I bore you off from death,  
I that man am now your Champion, do not question why?  
But rest assured, for you I'll live and die.  Exeunt. Alarum, and the Shepherds within crying, fly, fly, etc. Enter Eusanius, and all the Shepherds. Eus. 
What Coward's that began this fearful cry? Is not the day likely to be our own? Have I not taken their King Prisoner, seized his white Flag, and by our general's hand sent him unto Pheander?  Tit. 
But he's revolted, and has set him free,  
And we have ne'er a General to lead us.  Eus. 
Oh Villain, Traitor, Coward, were he my father I should call him so: fly from his Colours. Courage, fellow Swains, let us not blot the Honour we have won. Want of a General, I'll supply that place, rather than lose so fair a Victory.  Pall. 
No, I'll be General.  Clown. 
ay, ay, and so you shall, and I'll be Commander over you. We should be led like Wildgeese then i'faith: Wildgeese, nay Woodcocks rather; for your Wildgeese keep their Wings, their Front, their Rear, and have a Leader too.  Tit. 
ay, ay, you are the man.  Eus. 
Follow then, come.  Exeunt. A great Alarum. Enter Radagon. Rad. 
Sound a Retreat, it is impossible to win the day,  
These Shepherds fight like devils: I saw a man born on our Lances points quite from the earth, yet when he came to ground he fought again, as if his strength had been invincible.  A shout and Flor. 
Hark how the proud foe with triumphant voice  
Proclaims unto the world her Victory.  Enter 2 sicilian Lord. 2 Lord. 
Hark how Sicilia with triumphant voice  
Proclaims unto the world his Victory.  Rad. 
Sicilia?  2 Lord. 
ay, Sicilia. Sophos, brother to the Thracian King, is with Alcade King of the Africans, come to assist you.  Rad. 
Give 'em entertain with all the Royal Pomp our State can yield.  2 Lord. 
He shall have soldier's welcome, that's the best.  Tromp. Flor. Enter one way Scicillia and Lords. Another, Alcade, Sophos, Lilla Guida, Drums and Colours. Scicil. 
To give a Welcome fitting to the State of Affrick's King, Sophos, and this fair Dame, whose Beauty all the Western World admires, were to neglect a greater happiness; for by your aid fair Victory sits crowned, pluming her golden wings upon our Crest, let us not beat her back by detraction.  Alcade. 
Royal Sir, we come to fight, and not to feast; yet for this might we will repose ourselves, our Troops are weary, and our beauteous Child rests undisposed of; Let her have a Guard of Demi negroes, called from either part, and let her Lodgings be place next our own, that's all we do desire.  Scicil. 
Which we'll perform.  Sophos. 
Let the Retreat we heard at our approach, call back your powers, and early in the morn whenas the daring enemy comes on; thinking to prey upon a yielding foe.  Tromp. Flor. 
Our forces shall confound 'em, Thrace shall know Retreat. Sophos is here, come to perform his vow.  Exeunt. Enter Pallemon wounded, Titterus, and Clown: Pal. 
Upon 'em, upon 'em, upon 'em, they fly, they fly, they fly.  Clown. 
ay, ay, they run away.  Titter. 
I am glad they are retreated, had they stood, his lack of sense had been his loss of life, howe'er he scapes it yet, come now retire.  Pal. 
I'll have my Love first.  Clown. 
So ho, ho boys.  Pal. 
What noise is that? are you a fouler, sir?  Clown. 
I know what belongs to a retreat sir, I was the first man took flight, and lured off the rest as well as I could.  Pal. 
Then you're an Engineer?  Tit. 
An admirable fellow Pallemon, hold him in talk whilst I run for Cerena, and use my best persuasions to procure her gentle patience, his deep wounds to cure.  Pal. 
Come then grave Nestor to the Council Table, nay, you shall see that I can speak to you.  Clown. 
And you shall hear that I can answer you.  Pal. 
You say you are a falconer?  Clown. 
Or a Fowler, which you please.  Pal. 
What think you, Nestor, if we limed our Pikes, as you your Twigs, and set 'em in the way just as the Army flies? Do you not think they would hang fast by the wings?  Clown. 
Yes, if they do not leave their wings behind 'em,  
And fly away with their legs.  Pal. 
May they do so?  Clown. 
Faith I sir, 't has been the coward's fashion time out of mind.  Pal. 
Or Father, shall's cast into the Air a gorgeless Falcon, that mounting the bleak Region, till she spy my beauteous Love Serena, then souse down, and snatch her from the Army. Jove's bird the Eagle, in her Talons bore his Darling Ganymede to his palace so. Speak Nestor, is it possible or no?  Clown. 
Very easy sir, if women be made of such light Stuff, as they say they are; besides, no Falcon but dares venture upon a Ring-tale, and what's a woman else?  Pal. 
Then as stern Pyrrhus did old Priam take, or stay,  
As cruel Nero with his Mother did,  
I'll rip thy bowels out, then fling thee  
Like a gorgeless Falcon in the Air;  
But first I'll tie these bells unto thy legs,  
That I may know which way to follow thee.  Clown. 
Nay, and you begin to meddle with my legs,  
I'll show you as fair a pair of heels,  
As e'er you saw in your life.  Pal. 
Nay, fly me not, my fair Angelica.  Clown. 
Put up thy Elbow then, my mad Orlando.  Pal. 
Thy hand shall be the scabbard, there it is:  
I yield me to thy mercy, Alexander;  
Yet save my life, great Caesar.  Enter Titterus and Serena. Clown. 
As we are Alexander, we will save thy life.  
Come sit at Caesar's feet. So, so, now I'll  
Deal well enough with you.  Tit. 
Prithee have more remorse, if not for Love,  
For love of Life, help to redress his wounds;  
Remember 'tis for you he came thus hurt,  
Take pity on his smart.  Seren. 
Had I like power to restore his sense, as to recure his wounds, upon the earth I would leave no means unthought, unsought for, but I'd apply't for his Recovery.  Tit. 
This is the tyranny we men endure,  
Women can make us mad, but none can cure.  Seren. 
Oh may I prove the first, upon my knees,  
If ever a poor virgin's Prayers were heard,  
Grant the fruition of my suit may prove  
A saving health both to his Life and Love.  Tit. 
Nay, and you go about it with such willingness,  
'Twill come to a good end sure:  
The whilst you dress his wounds, I'll sit and sing,  
And invocate the Gods to pity him.  Sings. 
Fair Apollo, whose bright beams  
Cheers all the world below:  
The Birds that sing, the Plants that spring,  
The Herbs and Flowers that grow.  
Oh lend thy aid to a Swain sore oppressed,  
That his mind soon may find the delight that sense admits;  
And by a Maid let his harms be redressed,  
That no pain do remain in his mind to offend his wits.  Seren. 
His blood returns, rub his Pulses o'er the fire,  
His Looks prescribe an Alteration.  Clown. 
Would I could hear him speak a wise word once.  Pal. 
Either the earth, or else my head turns round.  Tit. 
Lass, my poor brother.  Seren. 
Peace, disturb him not.  Pal. 
And yet methinks I do not feel such pains as I was wont to endure. Ha, sure I should know! Speak, are not you my Love?  Tit. 
He knows her, ay, 'tis she.  Pal. 
And you my brother?  Tit. 
True.  Clown. 
And what am I?  Pal. 
A fool.  Clown. 
But you are no madman now? I'm sure. He that can distinguish a fool from a woman, is a wise man believe it.  Seren. 
Pallemon see, since it hath pleased the Gods, in pity of thy youth, to grant thy sense, Serena grants her love, and at thy feet craves pardon for her cruel injury.  Pal. 
More welcome now then ever, my Serena.  
Love that is often crossed, at length obtained,  
Is sweeter far than pleasure easily gained.  Tit. 
But what shall I do now? I'm gone in the Common-law, and if a Jury of women go upon me, I'm sure to be cast. I think I had best to appeal to the men first, and make them my Arbitrators.  Clown. 
Oh no, no, no, make your peace with the women first, whate'er you do; for if they take the matter in hand, your men are ne'er able to stand long in a Case against them.  Tit. 
Then first to you whom I have wronged so much,  
And next, to all that's here.  Sings. 
Forgive me, oh forgive me my cruel disdain,  
Never poor Lover endured such pain,  
As I will in my skill, your praises to tell,  
And never sing other, till death rings my Knell.  
Therefore no man hate a woman, for now you may prove  
It lies in their powers to restore Life and Love.  
Therefore no man hate a woman, for now you may prove  
It lies in their power to restore Life and Love.  Exeunt. A great Alarum and Excursions, then enter Eusanius and Shepherds, with Alcade, Sophos, and White moor, prisoners. Eus. 
The honour of thy overthrow, brave Moor, is due to great Pheander King of Thrace; but thy Crowns ransom does belong to me.  Alcad. 
Take Life and all, it is not worth the keeping,  
Without Addition of a Victory.  
To be a peasant's prisoner! Cursed Fate!  
Why should a King be so unfortunate?  Sophos. 
Unhappy chance! Came I to Thrace for this, to lose both Life and Honour in the Land that gave me Life? and by a Brother too? Black destiny!  Eus. 
Some post unto Pheander; and glad his ears with this our Victory.  Enter 1 Th. Lord. 
Why come ye on so slowly? renew the fight, our King is taken prisoner by that slave, that by his falling off lost the last Battle.  Eus. 
Pheander taken?  Alcade 
That's some comfort yet, I hope Sicilia will not ransom him, till he consent unto our Liberty.  Soph. 
And if he should, he were unworthy to be termed a King.  Eus 
Why then let's summon 'em unto a Parley,  
First offer to exchange our Prisoners,  A Parley. 
And then begin the bloody Fight again.  1 Lord. 
Summon a Parley then.  Enter Scicillia, Lords, with Pheander prisoner. 
Look here Sicilia, since by chance of war our Thracian King is taken prisoner, to ransom him we will deliver back into your hands the great Alcade, Sophos, and this White moor.  Phe. 
Three prisoners for one, detain 'em still, I'll not be ransomed at so dear a rate.  Alcade 
And if thou shouldst, I scorn it should be so;  
For look what Ransom Sicilia sets down,  
I'll pay it trebly o'er to ransom us.  Scicil. 
We'll take no Ransom, but will set you free by force of Arms.  Eus. 
Bear back the prisoners, and renew the Fight.  Rad. 
Stay, darest thou that seemest so forward, hand to hand, in single opposition end this Strife?  Eus. 
Oh were these Kings but pleased it should be so,  
How soon would we decide this difference?  Scicil. 
What says Alcade? if he be so content,  
I'll gladly put my Right upon his sword.  Phe. 
The like will I upon my Champion, whose unmatched valour has been well approved.  Alcade. 
I like his fair Aspect, and give consent.  
Mayest thou prove happy in this Enterprise.  Rad. 
I'll lose my life, or gain your liberty.  Eus. 
The like will I, or set Pheander free.  Exeunt. Phe. 
Then till the Champions be in readiness, let the Conditions be concluded on. Pallatio, draw the Articles for us.  Cicil. 
And you for us, if we be overcome, Pheander is to have his liberty, and we depart this land, resigning back all interest due by his permission, and never seek revenge for our lost Son: this as we are Royal, we'll consent unto.  Alcad. 
If Thrace be overcome, he shall surrender all his dignity into our hands, which Sophos shall enjoy which our fair daughter, paying Sicily a yearly tribute; and your Soldiers pay since their abode in Thrace, shall be discharged from our Exchequer.  Phe. 
This I'll add besides, because by us Cicillia lost a for, whoever shall enjoy the Crown of Thrace shall once a year, clad in his pilgrim's weeds, offer sacrifice unto the Gods, and lay his Crown down at Sicilia's feet.  Soph. 
And Sophos vows to offer up his life,  
A ransom for this beauteous African,  
If we be vanquished by our enemy.  Scicil. 
There's Sicilia's hand.  Phe. 
And mine.  Alcad. 
There Alcade.  Lil. 
And mine?  Sop. 
And Sophos joined in one.  1 Thr. Lord. 
A happy end crown this Contention.  Pal. 
Beseech your Graces, since this difference is to be ended by a shepherd's hand, to let our Queen be set at liberty, to see the Champion that must fight for her.  Phe. 
Go fetch her forth: And now I call to mind the Oracle, that said a shepherd should restore my Crown; sure one of these will prove that happy man.  Cicil. 
The Trumpet sounds again, let's take our seats, and see who shall obtain the victory.  Phe. 
Nay altogether now, till the last stroke make a division.  Enter Ariadne brought in by shepherds. 
Oh the shepherd's Queen!  Alcad. 
A lovely Dame! sit by our daughter's side.  Tuckets. 
The Combatants will take encouragement from your fair eyes: hark, now they come.  Enter Radagon brought in by the Cicilsian Lords, Eusanius by the shepherds, with shields pictured with Neptune riding upon the Waves. Clown. 
Now Boy, thrust home, 'tis for a Lady.  Pal. 
Courage fellow Swain.  1 Lord, 
The Champions are prepared, sound to the fight:  Rad. 
I for my King.  Eus. 
I for my country's right fight.  2 Lord. 
So, recover breath.  Phe. 
What means that strange Device upon their shields? 'tis something sure concerns the Oracle, God Neptune riding on the Waves o'th' Sea, I'll question them to know the meaning on't.  Eus. 
Come Sir.  Alcad. 
What means the King of Thrace?  Phe. 
To ask a question ere they fight again.  Alcad. 
Then speak aloud, we'll have no whispering.  Phe. 
I prithee tell me, 'tis to thee I speak: what heinous wrongs hast thou received from us, or good from these, that thou alone shouldst prove the chiefest Champion for our Enemy?  Rad. 
So please these Kings vouchsafe me audience, I shall tell you.  Both. 
Speak freely.  Rad. 
In brief Pheander, I am nor subject unto him, nor you, more than the duty of a Son allows, though this rude transmigration of my hair, bars me your knowledge, with the change of time, yet here behold the banished Radagon.  Cicil. 
My Son?  Ariad. 
My husband?  Phe. 
Shame and my Joy so struggle in my breast, I shall dissolve to air: Oh my dear child!  Rad. 
Can it be possible that we should live so long together, and not know each other?  Ariad. 
I knew Menalchus, but not Radagon.  Rad. 
I Mariana, not my beauteous wife: But what's become of my Eusanius, had I my child again, my Joy were full.  Ariad. 
Alas I lost him fourteen years ago, keeping my flocks upon the plain of Thrace.  Rad. 
This greater tide of Joy overcomes the less, and will not suffer me as yet to mourn.  Soph. 
Pray speak those Words again, where did you lose him? on the Plains of Thrace?  Ariad. 
Indeed I did, just fourteen years ago.  Soph. 
The time, the place, how habited, and then.  Ariad. 
In a small coat made of a panther's skin, a Garland on his head, and in his hand a hook made of a Cane.  Soph. 
The very same, the time, the place, the habit, all things just as you describe to me; that child, I being banished from my native soil, found sporting in the Plains, and that's the child I carried with me into Africa.  Alcad. 
Was that the child you brought into the Court? wha adverse fate had I to banish him?  Lil. 
Far worser fate had I to lose my love.  Eus. 
That child, so found so lost,  
Brought up in Africa, and banished thence,  
Should be myself.  Lil. 
Eusanius? 'tis he.  Ariad. 
Oh my dear child.  Eus. 
Are you my Mother? This my father then?  Phe. 
Is this my Warlike Grandchild?  Alcad. 
What wonder's this?  Phe. 
Now is the Oracle confirmed at full.  
Here is the Wonder being wracked at sea,  
Which Neptune from his Waves cast up again.  
These are the Lions that did guide the Lambs,  
Living as Shepherds, being Princes born.  
And these the Seas, whose-equal valour neither Ebbs nor Tides,  
But makes a stand, striving for Victory;  
Their shields proclaim as much, whose Figure is  
Neptune commanding of the rugged Waves.  
And this the happy Shepherd from the Plain,  
Whose sight restores me all my joys again.  Scicil. 
Radagon, thou shalt wear Scicillia's Crown.  Phe. 
Pheander's too, which is too small a satisfaction for the great wrongs he hath sustained by us.  Rad. 
Do not impose more Cares upon my head,  
Until my joys be fully finished.  
Good Father keep your Crown, and govern still,  
And let me frolic with my beauteous Bride:  
And for Pheander's Crown, let me entreat  
My Uncle Sophos, Partner in our Wars,  
May, if he survive, be King of Thrace.  Phe. 
With all my heart; and for these harmless Shepherds,  
Whose loves have been Copartners in our wars, once every year  
They shall be feasted in our Royal Palace,  
And still this day be kept as Holiday  
In the remembrance of the Shepherd's Queen.  Alcad. 
'T would ask an Age of Time to explicate all our delights. Eusanius, take our Child, with her our Royal Crown of Africa. Thy pardon Sophos, for we promised thee.  Sophos. 
I willingly resign my interest, Sir.  Phe. 
One forty days we'll hold a Festival  
Within the Court of Thrace before we part.  
When was there such a Wonder ever seen?  
Forty years banished, and live still a QUEEN!  Exeunt.  
FINIS.   

If any Gentlemen please to repair to my House aforesaid, they may be furnished with all manner of English, or French Histories, Romances, or Poetry; which are to be sold, or read for reasonable Considerations.