Three Excellent Tragoedies. Viz.  
THE RAGING TURK, OR, BAJAZET the Second.  
THE COURAGEOUS TURK, OR, AMURATH the First.  
AND THE TRAGEDY OF ORESTES.  
WRITTEN, By THO. GOFF, Master of ARTS, and Student of Christ-Church in Oxford; and Acted by the Students of the same House.  
The second Edition, carefully corrected by a friend of the Authors.  
LONDON, Printed for G. BEDELL and T. COLLINS, at the middle Temple Gate Fleetstreet. 1656.   

THE RAGING TURK, OR, BAJAZET THE SECOND.  
A Tragedy Written by THOMAS GOFF, Master of ARTS, and Student of Christ-Church in Oxford; and Acted by the Students of the same House.  
Monstra fato, scelera moribus imputes,  
Det ille veniam facilè cui venia est opus.  
The second Edition.  
LONDON, Printed for G. BEDELL and T. COLLINS, at the middle Temple Gate Fleetstreet. 1656.   

TO THE No less ingenious than zealous favovorer of ingenuity, Sir RICHARD TICHBORNE Knight, and Baronet.  
SIR:  
THis Tragedy, a manuscript, with another of the same Authors, came lately to my hands; He that gave them birth, because they were his Nugae, or rather recreations to his more serious and divine studies, out of a nice modesty (as I have learned) allowed them scarce private fostering. But I, by the consent of his especial friend, in that they show him rather Omnium scenarum homo, to his glory then disparagement, have published them, and do tender this to your most safe protection, lest it wander a fatherless Orphan, which every one in that respect will be apt to injure with calumnious censure. Now if you vouchsafe to receive and shelter it, you will not only preserve unblemished the everliving fame of the dead Author, but assure me that you kindly accept this humble acknowledgement of  
Your most obliged and ready real Servant, RICH. MEIGHEN.   

The Names of the Actors.  

Bajazet, Emperor.  
his Sons. 

Mahomates  
Achomates  
Corcutus  
Selimus  
Thrizham  
Mahomet    
Achments a General,  
Cherseogles Vizerory of Greece.  
Bases. 

Isaac  
Mesithes  
Mustapha    
Solyman Selimus son.  
Cajubus, Achmates son.  
Alexander Bishop of Rome.  
Zemes, Bajazet's brother.  
Tartarian King.  
Armenia King.  
Asmehemedes Mahomet's followers.  
Hamon Bajazet's Physician, Jewish Monks.  
Herald.  
Dwarf.  
Nemesis.  
captain.  
Ambassadors.  
Janissaries.  
Soldiers.  
Nuncius.    

THE RAGING TURK, OR, the Tragedy of BAJAZET, the second of that name.  

Actus 1.  

Scena 1.  Enter Bassanes, Isaac with a Crown in his hand, Mustapha with a Sceptre, Mesithes with a Sword, they Crown Corcutus youngest son to Bajazet. Isaac. 
LEt the world feel thee, and those Demigods,  
Proud with the name of Kings, debase themselves  
To honour thee; this Crown commands as much  He crowns him. 
Wherewith I do invest thy happy brow,  
Happy indeed, if that succeeding times  
Shall set up virtue, so to lessen crimes.  
Thus from the ashes of dead Solyman  
Is raised another Phoenix, great Corcutus;  
Live equally adored: when Princes bend  
To better courses, all their subjects mend.  Must. 
Crowns make not Kings, nor can that glittering show  
Perfect thine honour, take another sign  
Of thy Imperial dignity, 'tis thine.  Gives him the Sceptre. 
That adds a Godlike grace unto thy brow,  
This binds due honour, that prostrates every knee  
Before thy throne: then live, and may that arm  
Secure thy subjects from all foreign harm.  Mes. 
What seasoned knowledge, learning's prudent Queen  
Hath blessed thee with, must now initiate thee  
In the paths of war. All studied Arts  
Are but degrees unto some wished end,  
And steps of hope whereby we do ascend  
Unto the top, and level of our thoughts.  
But Kings than prove most happy when they are  
Watchful in peace; and provident in war.  
Those are their utmost ends, which that they may  
O'ertake, Art and the Sword make fairest way.  
The Muses nursed thee up, and thou didst draw  
The pleasant juice of learning from their breasts  
In thy first nonage; here than we bestow  
The second help, to which good Princes own  
Much of their welfare; Swords are the first ground  
Of peace and war; they both defend and wound.  
Thus are we vowed to thee, let thy dread fame  
Thunder amazement through the spacious world  
That when thou lifts thine arm, thy foes may say  Shouts 3. 
Not Jove, but great Corcutus rules the day.  Cor. 
Which that applause hath crowned, and with it  
Will ever, spite of traitors, joying sit  
As now we do; nor shall my watchful care  
Be wanting to you, whilst this subtle air  
Feeds mine industrious spirits; I shall fill  
The good with joy, by cutting off the ill  
Corrupted rags of men; Jove let me stand  
An object in thine eye, when thy swift hand  
Fails in the stroke of Justice: Virtue, return  
From thy sad exile, I will purge the walls  
From spotted vice, and make this city free  
To entertain so fair a Queen as she.  
Then (Bassanes) I embrace what you have thrown  
Upon me, and these signs of honour thus  Gives them back 
We rebestow; their power still stays with us.  
Can this vast body of the Common wealth  
Stand fast without a soul, each man should see  
I am not greedy of this dignity,  
This burdenous weight which some must undergo:  
The gods are busied with diviner things,  
And put Earth's care into the hands of Kings.   

Actus 1. Scena 2.  After some clamours of applause. Enter Chersogles, and Achmetes at several doors. Ach. 
And is Bajazet arrived?  Che. 
So fame reports  
Yet how he doth digest Corcutus Reign,  
That every Bird sings not; but sure with pain.  
A Turkish Bajazet and suffer wrong,  
May for a time conceal his grief, not long.  
Eagles soar high, and scorn that shorter Plumes  
Should reach the clouds, which their proud wings can touch  
Corcutus must not reign to keep the right  
Due to his father, nor will he if he might:  Enter Isaac 
he's learned, therefore just; Arts not allow  
To wear a Crown due to another's hrow.  Isa. 
Darest thou oppose his greatness? is not Greece  
Already wracked enough? have thy proud Towers  
reared up their lofty spires? which steeped in blood,  
threw a reflex of red back to the clouds,  
and blushed at their own ruins? are thy crude wounds  
already stopped, and is that day forgot,  
in which the Turkish Mavors Ottoman,  
wielded a sword of death within thy Walls?  
Charon grew weary with hurrying souls to hell,  
when threescore thousand Greeks in one day fell.  Cheers. 
We know their force, and sad experience says,  
Move not again. Greece welters still in blood,  
and every crackling thunder of the heavens  
speaks the shrill echo of the Turkish drums.  
Then are we drawn by you, so let it be,  
about these great affairs as you decree.  Ach. 
This phrase becomes the Greeks, submissive states  
must bend, the Conqueror must rule the fates.  Cheers. 
And such are you, our vanquished hearts must bend,  
but bad beginnings have a fatal end.  
Me thinks I see great Bajazet in arms,  
spreading his fearful Ensigns in the air,  
like some prodigious Comet: we may fear  
speedy revenge, unless some quick advice  
works a prevention of his future hate.  
'tis he must sway the Sceptre, or we shall hear  
a dreadful defiance rattled in our ear:  
he's strong in friends, and power; we must descend  
to our just duty, or our latest end.  Ach. 
Renowned Viceroy, thy persuading thoughts  
Have predivined most truly these effects,  
and we applaud thy Counsel: let us three  
join our best strength, that these ensuing jars  
may be composed without the stroke of wars:  
Corcute is wise, and mild, and being so,  
he hates the rumour of a public foe.  Cher. 
Nobly resolved (Greece sings) if the event  
Prove but so happy, as honest the intent.  Enter Bajazet. Baja. 
Am I not Emperor? he that breathes a no,  
damns in that negative syllable his soul,  
durst any god gainsay it, he should feel  
the strength of fiercest Giants in mine arms,  
mine angers at the highest, and I could shake  
the firm foundation of the earthly Globe:  
Can I but grasp the Poles in these two hands,  
I'd pluck the world asunder; drop thou bright Sun,  
from thy transparent Sphere, thy course is done,  
great Bajazet is wronged, nor shall thine eye  
be witness to my hateful misery.  
Madness and anger makes my tongue betray  
the Chaos of my thoughts: under this breast  
an heap of indigested cares are pressed.  
What is it that I doubt! through every joint  
dances a trembling ague, this dull blood,  
that courses through my veins, divines no good.  shouts of joy within. 
Ha', shouts of joy, at dead men's obsequies?  
I'm in a maze of woes: what thou wilt throw  
on me, Jove, let it come. I'll stand thy blow.  Che. 
Live happy Bajazet.  Baja. 
Happy in my fear!  
that word sounds sweet in my distracted ear.  He turns aside to them. 
Happy in what?  Ach. 
In thy friends,  
that grieve to see thy wrongs.  Baja. 
My wrongs!  
there sticks the string my thoughts did harp upon.  
But who hath wronged me in this high content?  
the fates do sometime frown, yet bless th' event  
and sequel of our woes; it cannot be,  
I should the thwarted in my jollity.  
But if I can unfold it— for the more  
I know them not, the greater is my sore.  Cheers. 
In that read all thy woes, take there a brief  
Contract of all thine ills, sad lines of grief.  He gives him a paper 
Contract of all thine ills, sad lines of grief.  Baja. 
How's this? my youngest son advanced to my seat?  
Corcutus Imperator! sure I dream:  
These are but empty apparitions  
Feigned by the god of sleep to vex my soul:  
Were they not so— ere this black night  
Had thrown her fable mantle o'er the heavens  
To hid me from my shame-but is it so?  
I do but flatter up myself, they are true  
And real griefs, my Passion says they are.  
Isaac, Achmetes, are they not?  Ach. 
Too true  
Great Bajazet:  Baja. 
Corcutus Imperator!  reads again 
Would I had seen thy name writ in the book  
Of dark damnation, rather than these lines.  
Cracked not mine eyestrings when I viewed this text?  
See how each letter spreads abroad in pomp,  
As if they scorned my tears! how I could dwell  
On these two words, Corcutus Imperator!  
Hither repair, the watchful paper-worms  
That scan old records over to a line:  
Here in two words imprinted shall you see,  
The model of a doleful history;  
Virtue dishonoured, breach of filial love,  
Right shouldered out by wrong; nor can you feign,  
A crime, which these two words do not contain.  
But now I rail, not grieve: O nimble air,  
Let my plaints vanish as they spoken are.  
Off with this womanish mildness, I will find  
A shorter trick than this to ease my mind.  
Pluto beware, I come to reign in hell,  about to kill himself. 
Fates bid me rule, and birthright to excel.  Cheers. 
Stay Bajazet, that arm can break a path  
Unto thy earthly monarch, ere thou come  
To bless the banks of sweet Elysium  
With thy wished presence: Mahomet forefend  
That thou shouldst seal a Kingdom to thy son;  
By this untimely death Corcutus reigns.  
But at thy better pleasure, when he shall hear  
Thou art arrived, then he'll twixt joy and grief  
Start from his throne, and nimbly run to meet  
Thy pomp, and throw his Sceptre at thy feet:  
If he but slack that duty, here are by,  
Achmetes strong and bold, Isaac and I,  
Devoted to your service. Yet the world stands,  
On wavering doubts, ready to clap their hands.  Baja. 
My desires are crowned,  
And from the gate of Limbo, where I sat,  
I feel my spirits knock against the heavens.  
Achmetes? In that name I hear an ease  
Of all my griefs pronounced; he shall suffice  
To banish usurpation from my throne:  
Did furies guard it round, he's able well  
To reach my Kingdoms from the gripes of hell.  Ac. 
My sword & life, both which are vowed to thee  
Are still at thy command: walk but along,  
Corcutus shall resign, thou have no wrong.  Exeunt Bajazet, Chersogles, and Achmetes: Manent Isaac, and Mustapha.  

Actus 1. Scena 3.  Is. 
Death, & the furies plunge the obsequious slaves,  
Would he have joined with us? we would have kept  
Corcutus high, and honoured, where he sits  
In spite of a whole boast of Bajazet's.  Must. 
Me thinks your power might have been greater sarre  
Over Achmetes, one addict to you  
By no less bond of duty, than the son  
Is to the father:  Isa. 
Mustapha, I'll tell you,  
Had not my daughter been espoused to him,  
I had named his death, and by some plot  
worked him a quick destruction long e'er this.  
Now let us temporize with Bajazet;  
yet keep thy nature ever, and be true  
to thine own profit; Fortune may advance  
some other Prince, worth both thy love and mine.  Musta. 
we'll stay her leisure.  Isa. 
See more Harpies gathered to catch a Crown,  
O 'tis a charming bait!  Exit uterque Enter Mahomet, Achmetes, Selimus. Mah. 
Me thinks these City walls smile on our entrance,  
as if they knew great Bajazet's three sons  
were come to grace their beauty.  Sel. 
But We should frown  
on them which harbour such black treasons. Well,  
were I great Bajazet, I'd ring a noise  
of spiteful horror, that should make the ground  
tremble beneath their weight at such a sound;  
A younger son enthroned an Emperor!  Ach. 
Brother, contain yourself, come let's away,  
to see the end that waits on this sad day.  Exeu. As they go Trizham and Mahomet, two other Sons of Bajazet go to meet them. Sel. 
What Mahomet?  Ach. 
And Trizham? here's a sight  
of one man's issue, Noble Bajazet:  
brothers we have jumped together.  Sel. 
All save one,  
and he's a great deal better so alone.  Tri. 
Corcutus 'tis you mean, who though he reign  
above us now, yet must fall back again  
into our rank; 'tis Bajazet must rise,  
and he descend, such a report there flies.  Exeunt.  

Actus 1. Scena. 4.  Enter Corcutus, Cherseogles, Mesithes. Corcu. 
Did not he frown, and storm?  Cheers. 
It moved him much,  
and wrought strange passions in him, when he read  
your name, and found your name so entitled.  Corcu. 
Cling to my temples thou blessed ornament,  
be ever unremoved, though all the gods  
chide me in thunder for this insolence.  
Am I in heaven, in state, placed on the sphere  
of eminence, but barely to appear  
with faint and borrowed lustre, then descend,  
ranked with the vulgar? heads first let me feel  
the Titian vulture, or Ixion's wheel,  
and the worst torture hell itself can bring,  
to scourge my soul: o let me die a King.  
But stay, I must bethink me at what rate  
I purchase these fair trappings: ha'? the curse  
of him that got me! start my daunted spirits,  
shall I usurp a throne and sit above  
my father, whilst the gaping pit of hell,  
with wide stretched jaws, yawns for my fall; O I  
am struck with horror, and the slaves of Styx  
already sting my wounded soul.  Cher. 
Will you fair Prince reject all future hopes  
of just succession, and afflict your Sire,  
by your unjust detainment of his Crown?  Corcu. 
I am distracted, and me thinks I burn  
under these robes of State, a boiling heat  
runs from them through my veins, Jove's hardy son,  
when he bewrapt himself in Nessus' shirt,  
felt not more bitter agonies, than I,  
clothed in the trappings of my majesty.  
I am resolved; Bassas, go meet our father,  
allure him home with this: I am begun  
to be no King, but a repentant son.  Exeunt Mesithes and Cherseogles. 
Pallas, I ask thy pardon, I have strayed  
A graceless truant from thy happy schools,  
Wither I'll now return; there's not a rank,  
Place, or degree, can sort us out true bliss  
Without thy temple, there my dwelling is:  
Amongst the sacred monuments of wit,  
Which Classic authors carefully have writ  
For our instruction, I will waste my time;  
So to wash out the spots of this sad crime.  
Court honours, and you shadows of true joy  
That shine like stars, till but a greater light  
Drown your weak lustre, I adjure your sight  
Even from my meditations, and my thoughts  
I banish your enticing vanities,  
And closely kept within my study walls,  
As from a cave of rest henceforth I'll see,  
And smile, but never taste your misery.  
I but as yet am floating on the waves  
Of stormy danger, nor am sure to scape  
The violent blast of angry Bajazet.  
Blow fair my hopes, and when I touch the shore,  
I'll venture forth on this rough surge no more.  Enter Bajazet, Cherseogles, Achmetes, Isaac, Mesithes, Mustapha, Mahomet, Achomates, Selimus, Trizham, Mahomet, Zemes disguised. 
See where he comes, oh how my guilty blood  
Starts to my face, and proves my cause not good!  
Our duty to our father,  kneels. Baja. 
Ours to the Emperor.  kneels. Cor. 
Why knelt great Bajazet? I am thy son  
Thy slave; and if thy wrath but frown, undone.  
Why kneels great Bajazet? heaven's hid thy face  
From these preposterous do.  Ba. 
What, not ashamed  
To circled in thybrow with that bright crown,  
Yet blush to see me kneel? though filial rites,  
And moral precepts say, the son must bend  
Before the Father, yet your high degree  
and power bids you rise, commands my knee.  Corc. 
These ornaments be thine. Here Bajazet,  
I Crown thee Monarch of the spacious West,  
Asia, and Africa: if ought be mine,  
greater than these, I here proclaim it thine.  Omnes. 
Live Bajazet our mighty Prince,  
live, rule, and flourish.  Baja. 
Is this your zeal? is it? Did every voice  
breath out a willing suffrage? I am crowned,  
my joys are fully perfect, and I feel  
my lightened spirits caper in my breast.  
Rise thou starbright mirror of thine age,  To Corcutus kneeling 
by thee our iron days prove full as good,  
as when old Saturn thundered in the clouds.  
Be an example to succeeding times,  
how sons should use their Parents: and I vow  
(when I shall fail) this honour to thy brow.  
Attend us Bassanes, I'll lead on to joy,  
never was Father blessed with such a boy.  Exeunt omnes, manet Corcutus. Corcu. 
Freed from a princely burden, I possess  
A Kingly liberty, and am no less  
Princely; observance wait on him, on me  
thoughts undisturbed, I shall then happy be.  Exit.  

Actus 1. Scena 5.  Enter Zemes the brother of Bajazet alone. Zemes. 
Scarce had I set my foot within these walls  
in expectation of a solemn hearse,  
due to the wand'ring Ghost of Mahomet;  
but loud alarumss of abundant joy  
ring in mine ears, and every servile groom  
Congratulates the coronation  A shout within. 
of Bajazet: hark how they roar it out.  
A cold disturbance like a gelid frost  
settles my blood withinme, and I hate  
his cheerful triumphs, more than mine own fate.  
'Tis true, indeed, I proved not the first fruits,  
an elder offspring of my Father's breed,  
yet was it so that Bajazet and I  
both tumbled in one womb; perhaps the Queen  
of women's labours doted at our birth,  
and sent him first abroad, or else I slept,  
and he before me stole into the world;  
must I then lose my glory, and be hurled  
A slave beneath his feet? no, I must be  
An Emperor as full, as great as he.  Exit.  

Actus 1. Scena 6.  Enter Isaac alone. Isa. 
Divorced my Daughter? fond and insolent man  
I'll crush thee into nothing: if I can  
endure the noise of my disgrace, I know  
how to return it; I am a flame of fire,  
a chafing heat distempers all my blood.  
Achmetes, thou must cool it, when thy limbs  
are emptied of that moisture they suck in,  
and thy stained blood enchanted from thy veins,  
then shall I be appeased, mean while I live  
thy mortal foe: But stay, let me contain  
mine anger undiscovered. Friend, how is't?  Enter Mesithes. Mesi. 
Know you not Isaac?  Isa. 
What?  Mes. 
The flight of Zemes hence to Armenia?  Isa. 
Of Zemes?  Mes. 
Yes, he walked about the City disguised, and unseen till his escape.  Isa. 
'Tis strange and full of fear.  Mes. 
We meet him frequent in the vulgar mouth.  Isa. 
Zemes is valiant, and Armenia strong,  
here's Bajazet, he must beware the wrong.  Enter Bajazet. Ba. 
What is't thou murmurest? Bajazet & wronged!  
something it is thou knowest concerning us:  
Take thee fair leave and speak it.  Isa. 
Yes, I know  
matters of weight, such as concern thy life.  Baja. 
Such as concern my life! Speak out thy tale,  
we are so fleshed in joy, bad news proves strange,  
and touch my sense too harshly.  Isa. 
But you must hear.  
Your brother Zemes, when swift winged Fame  
told him your father Mahomet was dead,  
flew quickly hither, first to celebrate  
his funeral pomp; then to assume his State,  
his Crown, and Sceptre: which he rightly knew,  
unto your hand, and head both to be due.  
But when applausive joy, and peals of mirth  
sounded loud Music in his troubled ears,  
of you enthroned; then he began too late  
to brawl at heaven, and wrangle with his Fate.  
So he went hence and cried, revenge be mine:  
quake thou great City of proud Constantine  
at my fierce anger: when I next return  
with clouds of misty powder, I shall choke  
thy breath, and dull thy beauty with it's smoke.  
Thus posted he hence to Armenia's King,  
there to implore his aid, which he will bring  
to front thy power: nor doth he yet despair,  
to dispossess, and fright thee from thy chair.  Baja. 
First from my body shall he fright my soul,  
and push me into dust.  Isaac, 
make haste  
to muster up our forces, strike up our drums  
let them proclaim destruction through the world.  
Clear up your dusty armour, let it cast  
such an amazing lustre on the Foe,  
as if Belbona danced on every crest.  
The bright sun of my glory is eclipsed,  
till Zemes be extinct: he must not shine  
to dull my beams, since the whole heaven is mine.  
Call forth Achmetes, his unconquered arm  
shall keep us safe from this intended harm.  Isaac. 
My Liege, you have forgot Achmetes oath,  
in which he vowed never to draw his sword  
in your defence.  Baja. 
I had forgot it,  
but now I remember, such was the vain  
heat of my youth: but I recall again  
what ever I protested, tell him so.  
Rash words must be dispensed with.  Isa. 
Then I'll go.  Exit. Baja. 
My Father once in ordering of a Camp,  
preferred me to be Captain of a wing,  
so when the battles joined, and life and death  
where struggling who should win power of our breath,  
our Armies proved the stronger; only my guide  
failed, and a base repulse fell on my side;  
at which my Father stormed, and in my place  
seated Achmetes, for which black disgrace,  
I vowed a swift revenge, even by his shame  
that wore mine honour, to redeem my fame;  
which when Achmetes heard, he deeply swore,  
never with wit and strength to guide me more.  
But now he must, see where he comes, and armed.  Enter Achmetes. 
What strange device is plotting in his brain?  
Honoured Achmetes.  Achme. 
Royal Emperor.  gives him a sword. Baja. 
Thine arm must then uphold my Royalty.  
Why lies thy valour prostrate at our feet,  
when like fierce lightnings it should run and meet  
my harms, and like a rock unmoved, oppose  
the course, and headlong torrent of my foes?  Achm. 
I am a man of peace; mistake me not.  
I made a vow, nor can it be forgot,  
till you revoke your oath.  Baja. 
Which here I do,  
great Mahomet be witness, that I mean  
sincerely what I speak, Achmetes now  
we're friends, and thus, I nullify my vow;  gives him his sword again. 
heavens on this concord lend a gracious smile.  
Achmetes I have placed thee in my bosom,  
gave thee an honoured title in my love;  
and of as lasting constancy, as is  
the sun, which looks so cheerfully on us.  
Go fit the Janissaries to the wars,  
kindle new fire of valour in their breasts,  
Thou art their Genius, even the breath they draw;  
Raise then thy plumes, and keep thy foes in awe.  Achm. 
Sood there a Pluto at thy city walls,  
and with a band of furies had besieged  
thy people; I would conjure them away,  
and send them back to hell: so thou shalt stand  
as fast as in the skies, under mine hand.  Baja. 
I am Crowned in thee, nor can I fall,  
whilst such a valour breathes within our wall.  
Zemes depose me! he must be more strong  
than Mars, that can do Bajazet that wrong.  Exeunt.  

Actus 1. Scena 7.  Enter Zemes, and the King of Armenia. Arme. 
We hate thy brother, therefore lend thee aid,  
'tis not our duty to expostulate  
thy right unto the Crown: on to your wars,  
thrive in your projects; I shall joy to see,  
a quarrel fought twixt Bajazet and me.  
I'll second thy encounters, and we two  
like the two Roman thunderbolts of war,  
will with the flashes of our fiery swords  
keep their composed ranks, that they shall stand  
aghast, to see two Scipios in one band.  Zemes. 
Thanks great Armenian King, and when I am  
wheeled to that height, which now my brother holds,  
I shall requite these benefits, and vow  
that kindness, which I can but promise now.  Arm. 
Come let's away, our armies are well set,  
ready to march: now tremble Bajazet.  Exeunt  

Actus 1. Scena. 8.  Enter Achmetes in his General's coat, and Caigubus his Son. Ach. 
Caigubus, public dangers call me forth,  
and I must leave thee now unto thyself.  
My son, thou seest unto what height of fame  
we are ascended, yet the sun shines clear,  
and not one dusky cloud of discontent  
dims the unspotted brightness of our joys:  
Not Bajazet is more beloved than I.  
Such strict observance is there showed to me  
by all that know my worth, and hear me named,  
as if I grasped Jove's thunder in mine hands.  
By all my hopes I fear some tragic scene  
will trouble our calm fortune. Son beware:  
The top of honour is a narrow plot  
of ground, whither we have already got:  
'Tis brittle and uncertain, if thou tread  
one careless step aside, thou fallest down dead;  
the shoot from thence is deep, and underneath,  
ruin gapes wide, thy body to receive.  
Stand firm Caigubus: though thou startest not away,  
yet blasts of envy often force aside  
the weariest footstep: these, where e'er they shall  
blow strong, will make them stagger if not fall.  Caigu. 
I shall forget to sleep, to breath, to live,  
sooner than these thy precepts: they are fixed,  
and printed in my thoughts.  Ach. 
Enough, no more  
That Isaac Bassa, trust him not too much:  
I have divorced his daughter from my bed,  
for her adulterate looseness, hence he hides  
a mass of fretting rancour in his breast,  
which he hath varnished yet, & guilded o'er  
with coloured shows of love; but he is false,  
and subtle as a Serpent, that will wind  
into thy breast, stinging thee ere thou find  
or once suspect his hatred: I must away, Trumpet's sound. Exit. Exit.  
hasty alarms call me hence, thus, farewell,  
envy grows greater, as our states excel.  Caig. 
Father, adieu.    

Actus 2.  

Scena 1.  A dumb show: Enter Zemes, and the Armenian King, Trumpet's and Ensigns, Soldiers pass over the stage, and in a solemn march. Exeunt.  

Actus 2. Scena 2.  Enter Bajazet, and Trizham and Mahomet his two sons Baja. 
Already marched so near! Zemes makes haste  
to death, as if he longed our wrath to taste.  
Trizham & Mahomet, it concerns you now,  
to fly hence nimbly to your Provinces:  
Zemes is come too near us to escape,  
he cannot fly the ground whereon he treads,  
but through your countries: hast then, if the wars  
crack not his thread of life, his flight will be  
when you may intercept it; if we presume  
only one bold Achmetes, and ourselves  
in beds of down supinely sleep at home;  
Zemes may scape the tempest of our wrath.  
Then we hope best, when each event we see  
thwarted with their preventing policy.  Trizh. 
Doubt not our haste and truth, he shall as soon  
break through the fiery fabric of the skies,  
as through my Provinces.  Exit. Maho. 
Through hell as soon as mine.  Exit. Baja. 
Go, I have done my part; Mars and my fate  
give fair success to my designed plot;  
and Zemes is entrapped, already dead,  
that hand secures me that strikes off his head.   

Actus 2. Scena 3.  Enter Achmetes, Cherseogles, Mustapha, Mesithes, Drums and Trumpets. Achm. 
The battle will prove great and dangerous:  
but were their number double more than ours,  
the justice of our cause bids us go on,  
and like a cheerful drum, strikes painting fear  
from every breast. Father, lead you the vanguard,  
the rearward be your charge, the right wing yours,  
myself will guide the left: this day shall crown  
your valour in full pride, Zemes must down.  Enter Zemes, Armenia, two Captains. Zem. 
Time hath outstripped our haste, our foes do stand,  
waving their golden plumes, as if the gods  
were come to meet great Zemes in the field;  
their army's planted, and a distilling cloud  
hovers about their heads, as if it wept  
at their approaching fate. Armenia's King  
lead you the vanguard; under your command  
the rearward shall march on: the Phalanx be  
your care, brave Captains: as we are informed,  
Achmetes rules the left wing of our foe,  
I'll rule the right wing of ours: so when I meet  
him in his pride, I'll prostrate at his feet.  Arme. 
Our men are ordered, Zemes lead the way,  
the skies look dusky black on this sad day.  Exeunt. Trumpets sound to the battle, dumb shows in skirmishes, one of Zemes' Captains and Cherseogles meet, Zemes' Captain prevails; his second and Mesithes meet, Mesithes retires; the King of Armenia and Mustapha meet, Armenia prevails, and pursues the battle. Enter Achmetes with his sword. Ach. 
Great Queen of chance; but do I call on this  
unconstant Stepdame? be thou propitious Mars,  
rough god of war: steel up this weary arm,  
and put a ten fold vigour in my bones;  
what shall Achmetes fall, and in his loss,  
great Bajazet be wronged! it cannot be.  
Death comes to wound thee Zemes, I am he!  As he goes out, the King of Armenia meets him, they fight, Achmetes makes him retire from the stage, and pursues him in his fury, enters again at the one door, Zemes at the other: they meet, drum's and trumpet's sounding. Ach. 
Zemes!  Zem. 
Achmetes! Opportunely met,  
here staggers all the fortune of the field;  
this hour must bless me, and a single fight  
purchase thee honour, and to me my right:  
honour to thee, to die by Zemes' hand,  
my right to me, an Empire to command.  Ach. 
Brave Prince, I more lament thy case then can thyself  
that runnest with such madness on the edge  
of desperate ruin: thou art but young & weak,  
manhoods soft blossoms are not fully spread  
upon thy downy chin; but riper years  
have settled the compacture of my joints,  
and they are strongly knit: 'twill vex my soul  
in the clear morn of thy uprising hopes,  
to wrap thee in a fatal could of death.  
Submit thee to thy brother, thou shalt find  
me thy true friend, him merciful and kind.  Zem. 
Submit! had I a right to Jove's high Throne,  
and stood in opposition of his power;  
should all the gods advise me to submit,  
I would reject their counsel: much more thine.  
Guard thee, Achmetes, I thy stroke abide,  
I cannot gore thy Prince but through thy side.  They fight and breath: fight again. Achmetes takes away Zemes sword. Zem. 
The day be thine, and Zemes stand thy Fate;  
strike home, I've lost the day: and life I hate.  Achm. 
Have at thee then.  Offers to run at him with both swords. 
not stir! Now by my sword  
thou shalt have fairer play before thy death:  
take back thy sword, in that I recommit  
my forfeit to thy charge, thy life with it.  They fight again, and Achmetes wounds him on the head. Zemes falls. Zem. 
Oh! hold thy conquering hand, and give my soul  
a quiet passage to her rest; my blood  
gins to waste, and a benumbing cold  
freezes my vital spirits: Achmetes go,  
tell Bajazet that thou hast slain his foe.  Ach. 
Farewell brave son of Mars, thy fame shall stay  
with us, although thy soul flit hence away.  Zemes. 
I have not lied, Achmetes thou hast slain  
my hopes, and therefore me; my wounds are shallow,  
but my state desperate: Ha! what shall I do?  
Armenia's King is fled back to his home,  
cold entertainment will attend me there;  
the field is empty, every man retired,  
only a few dead carcases, and I;  
then whither shall I bend my steps? to Rome!  
To Rome then let it be: Bishop, I come;  
thou'rt a religious thing, and I will trust  
my life to one so innocently just.  Exit.  

Actus 2. Scena 4.  Enter Mahomates, Achomates, Selimus three of Bajazet's sons. Sely. 
Indeed we may be thought upon in time:  
when there be countries more than there be men  
we may get some preferment; sit at home  
and prove good boys and please our father well.  Bajazet, aside 
My thoughts are too unbridled,  
I neither can nor will endure thy curb;  
my compressed valour like the strangled fire  
breaks out in violent flames and I must rule.  
Trizham and Mahomet are slipped in haste  
each to their several province, we must stay,  
that are their Elders, for another day:  
this Court will prove our scaffold, where we stand  
placed in the eye of angry Bajazet;  
who thwarts him in his fury is but dead,  
and in that passions heat off goes his head.  
I must not live thus.  Maho. 
I could be content.  
He fears not death whose thoughts are innocent.  Sely. 
I thank you brother; then belike some crimes  
lie heavy on my conscience, and I fear,  
unless I shift my station, 'twill be known.  
You think well of me kind Mahomates.  Maho. 
As well as of a brother I can think:  
if by a rash applying to yourself,  
my words have been distasteful, blame not me.  Sely. 
Can I apply them then unto myself?  
am I so lose in manners? By heaven and earth  
thou shalt repent this deeply.  Acho. 
Stop that oath,  
brothers agree, or walk hence but along  
into my garden, where each springing herb  
smiles on my fair content, there you shall see,  
how flowers of one stock, so twisted are,  
one in the others twinings, that they show,  
one stands by th' others help, both jointly grow;  
these shall suffice your quarrels to remove,  
and dumb examples teach a lively love.  Maho. 
Come let us go.  Exeunt Mahomates, and Achomates. Sely. 
Strait I will follow you.  
Away fond wretches, o that every breast  
were of so dull a temper as you two.  
But who comes here?  Enter Corcutus 
Brother Corcutus, whither are you bend?  
what from the court so soon?  Corcu. 
My father bids,  
I go to undertake the charge his love  
hath thrown upon me. That's rich jonia.  Sely. 
You go to rule there?  Cor. 
Yes:  Sel. 
Heaven's speed you well.  Cor. 
Dear Selimus adieu.  Sel. 
Brother farewell.  Exit Corcutus. 
Revenge and you, three furious twins of night,  
ascend up to our theatre of ill,  
plunge my black soul twice in your Stygian flood,  
that by it's virtue it may be congealed,  
and hardened against remorse: Pluto every  
my breast, with a diviner policy  
than every trifling brain can reach unto;  
I'll fill the world with treasons, and my wit  
shall put new tracts to death: Charon shall see,  
his waftage still in use, by company  
sent thither by my care: o 'twill do well,  
to blast the earth with want, and furnish hell.  Exit  

Actus 2. Scena 5.  Enter Isaac, Bajazet. Isaac. 
Tush, virtue makes men fools, Isaac be wise,  
shake off the tender fetters of remorse:  
and hug that chance, that opens thee the way  
to ruinated Achmetes. Did he stand  
on terms of conscience, neighbourhood or love,  
when he cashiered my daughter from my house,  
and to the world's broad eye, opened her crime?  
No he was swift and bitter in his hate,  
and so will I: he is but now returned  
in triumph from the field, as full of pride  
as I of envy: hence I'll ground my hate.  
When fierce Bellona smiled on Bajazet,  
amidst the fiery tumults of the war,  
she offered Zemes to Achmetes hand,  
they fought, Achmetes conquered, at his foot  
fell the proud rebel, wounded but not slain;  
there might Achmetes with a blow of death  
cut off our fears, continued in his breath:  
this shall incense the angry Emperor:  
and crush Achmates in his fairest hopes.  
True politicians work by others hands,  
so I will by the Prince: my plot stands firm;  
see where he comes, now sly Mercurius, whet  
my tongue, to kindle hate in Bajazet.  Enter Bajazet. Baja. 
Isaac, how thrived Achmetes in his wars?  
Fame is of late grown dumb of his renown:  
surely unwelcome news clogs her swift wings,  
else had she now been frequent in our Court;  
and we had fully known the chance of all.  Isa. 
We had: yet could not the event,  
lie so concealed, but Isaac found it out;  
which when I first discovered, strait it wrought  
tempests of passions in me, joy and grief  
reigned at one instant in the self same breast.  Bajazet. 
As how?  Isa. 
As thus. I joyed that Zemes fell,  
was sorry he escaped.  Baja. 
Fell, and yet escaped!  Isa. 
Beneath Achmetes feet the traitor fell.  Baja. 
And yet escaped! good jove how may this be!  Isa. 
Thus it might be, and was so: when sad death  
was glutted with the ruin of each side,  
when slaughtering Mars had stained the field with blood  
and cast a purple colour o'er the earth  
at length some milder providence desired;  
an end of those hot tumults that were seen,  
to last in Zemes' breath; so that their fire  
would be extinct, when Zemes should expire:  
then from the middle skirmish forth were brought  
he and Achmetes; being met they fought;  
Zemes was vanquished by a violent blow  
which struck him trembling lower than his knees:  
now whether flattering, or present gifts  
redeemed him from his fate, I cannot show;  
something they plotted, what, none yet can know.  Baj. 
Canst thou advise me (Isaac) how to sound  
the depth of all his mischief?  Isa. 
Thus you may,  
He being come from Zemes' overthrow,  
and yet lukewarm in blood and full of joy,  
you may in way of honour and free mind  
call him this night to banquet: Then being set  
when the hot spirits of caroused healths  
have spoilt his wit of smooth and painted tales,  
and wine unlocked the passage for the truth,  
bid him relate the manner of his war,  
the chances and events; then when he comes  
to Zemes, if he err about his flight,  
his ends are bad, his bosom black as night.  Baja. 
Thou art my good Angel, Isaac, I applaud  
thy faithful plot. Achmetes, were thy soul  
as dark as hell and thy enclosed thoughts  
as subtle as a winding Labyrinth,  
by such a guide as can remove each doubt,  
and by a clue of thread I'd tract them out.  
But Isaac; if we trap him in his wiles  
how shall we kill the traitor? we have a trick,  
already strange to catch him in the nick.  Isa. 
Easily, thus. Our laws allow a custom:  
not used of late, yet firm still in effect  
and thus it is: When there doth breath a man  
direfully hated of the Emperor,  
and he in strict severity of right  
cannot proceed against him, than he may  
o'erwhelm him in a robe of mourning black,  
which we have called deaths mantle: that thing done,  
the man thus used, is forfeited to fate,  
and a devoted sacrifice to him  
whom he had erst offended, neither can  
strength or entreaty, wrist him from his death,  
both which are treason and inexpiable.  
Thus than you may proceed, when banquets done.  
and all their comic merriment run on  
to the last scene, and every man expects  
a solemn gift, due to Achmetes worth,  
call for a robe therewith to deck your friend  
and perfect all his glory, let that be  
this robe of fate, in which ready at hand,  
you may entomb the traitor and bewrap  
his pampered body in a veil of death;  
so let him die, dream not on the event,  
vice is rewarded in it's punishment.  Baj. 
I will be fierce and sudden, Isaac invite  
Achmetes to a feast; he dies this night.  Exit Baj. Isa. 
I shall. Would not a private warning serve,  
but open penance must correct my child,  
and a severe divorcement quite degrade  
her of her honoured matrimonial rights?  
Were he as strong, as steel-like jointed Mars,  
as much applauded through our popular streets,  
as erst Dictator Fabius was in Rome,  
or get Augustus: yet the slave should feel  
the wrath of an inflamed father light  
heavy upon his soul: & that e'er the next sun  
appear, Achmetes all thy glory's done.  Exit.  

Actus 2. Scena 6.  Enter Achmetes, and Caigubus his son. Caigu. 
I feared your safety and devoutly prayed  
the sword of justice, which your hand did sway  
might be of conquering force.  Ach. 
Thy prayers were heard  
and I am here as safe as I went forth,  
untouched by the rough hands of desperate war.  
Nor did I once spy danger in the field;  
but when I fronted Zemes, than there met  
two streams of valour, sigh on us was set  
the chance of the whole combat, others stood  
expecting which of us should lose his blood:  
but heaven was just, and to compose the strife,  
this sword at one sad blow took thence his life.  Cai. 
The heavens were just indeed, but who comes here,  
Isaac, Mesithes, and Bajazet's three sons.  Enter Isaak, Mesithes, Mahomates, Achomates, Selimus. Ach. 
They come to gratulate my late success,  
I see their errand folded in their smiles,  
how cheerfully they look upon my joys!  Omnes 
All happiness attend Achmetes.  Ach. 
Thanks Noble friends. How fares the Emperor?  Isaac. 
Well by your guard; and he hath sent us now,  
all to invite your presence to a feast,  
we must be frolic, and this following night,  
shall Crown your joy with revels and delight;  
or else deprive thy soul of that good light.  aside. Ach. 
We must be frolic Captains, think not then  
on my loud drums, and staring trumpeters,  
such whose strong lungs roar out a bellowing voice  
would make a man dance Antic in the fire:  
we'll have a choicer music, and my feet  
shall tread a neater march, than such harsh strains  
can teach them: with more pleasure and less pains,  
since it hath pleased the Emperor to grace  
our slender merits thus: we shall be there,  
to taste his bounty.  Mes. 
we'll lead on before.  Ach. 
I'll follow you.  Isa. 
Ne'er to return more.  aside. Exeunt omnes, Manent Achmetes and Caigubus. Ach. 
I am happy above envy, and my state,  
not to be thwarted with injurious fate,  
I could disburden all my jealous thoughts,  
and shake that currish vice suspicion, off  
from my sincere affection: I have wronged  
sure I have wronged thee Isaac, thy chaste love  
cloaks not intended mischief; black deceit  
cannot lie hid under so pure a white,  
but it would cast a coloured shadow out  
through such a slender vail; thy generous thoughts  
nourish no base detraction; thy free love  
thy professed actions say, 'twere no just fate  
that good men's deeds should die by ill men's hate.  Cai. 
Pray heaven they do not.  Ach. 
Fear not, I am guessed  
to Bajazet, expected at the feast.  Exeunt.  

Actus 2. Scena 7.  Enter Bajazet, and Cherseogles. Baja. 
The day's far spent, is not Achmetes come?  Cheers. 
Not yet, great Emperor.  Baja. 
Viceroy of Greece, say now there were a man  
whom my mind honoured; and I should command  
to clothe his body in a suit of gold,  
studded with gems, worth all the Indian shore,  
durst any tongue gainsay it?  Cheers. 
Surely no.  Baja. 
What if I hated him, and should command  
to wrap him in a sable coloured black:  
and sentence him to death?  Cheers. 
Then he must die.  Baja. 
My thoughts are troubled.  Cheers. 
What should these questions mean,  
abrupt demands, one to confound the other?  
My liege your guests are come.  Enter Achmetes, Isaac, Mahomates, Achomates Selimus, Mesithes, Caigubus. Baja. 
Blessed be the hour in which I see Achmetes safe returned,  
Bring in our banquet, soldiers: boys kneel round.  Enter a banquet, all kneel. 
A ring of braver lads ne'er blessed the ground:  
supply us here with Nectar, give it me,  takes the cup. 
Achmetes, noble warrior, here's to thee,  
a health to thy blessed fortunes, it shall run  
a complete circle ere the course be done.  Ache, 
My duty bids me pledge it. I return  
good health to Isaac, and in this we'll drowned  
all concealed enmities  drinks Isa. 
jove split me with his thunder, if my breast  
harbour one bad thought when this draught is past.  
and so I greet thy son: Health to Caigubus.  drinks Caig. 
Mahomates the turn lights next on you.  drinks Mah 
I'll pledge it freely, Viceroy her's to you.  drinks Cheers. 
Achomates, to you I must come  
the welfare of Achmetes in this cup.  drinks Ach. 
To you Mesithes thus I prove my love.  drinks. Mes. 
Young Prince, I do commit this health to you.  drinks. Sely. 
I am the last be prodigal in wine,  
fill up my bowl with Nectar let it rise  
above the goblet's side, and may it like  
a swelling Ocean flow above the banks,  
I will exhaust it greedily, 'tis my due.  drinks. Omnes 
we'll drink with Bacchus and his roaring crew.  Baj. 
Already done, so quickly run about,  
one health to me: faith, sigh you are set to't,  
here's a carouse to all.  Omnes, 
we'll pledge it round.  As they drink round, Bajazet riseth and speaks aside. Bajaz. 
'Tis the last draught to some, or I shall fail  
in mine intendments. Let a foe escape  
when he was trampled down beneath his feet!  
There must be treason in it: How my blood  
boils in my breast with anger! not the wine  
could work such strong effect: my soul is vexed.  
A chafing heat distempers all my blood;  
Achmetes, thou must cool it: when thy limbs  
are emptied of that moisture they suck in,  
and thy stained blood unchanneled from thy veins;  
then shall I be secure; a quiet rest  
shall rock my soul asleep; 'tis thy last hour  
must set a period to my restless fears.  
What, are you merry friends? drink on your course,  
than all arise: and now to consummate  
our happy meeting, And shut up our joys,  
discourse Achmetes of your finished wars;  
After an age of woes, it proves at last  
A sweet content to tell of dangers past.  
Let's know your whole events.  Achm. 
Great Emperor,  
Scarce had the rosy daystar from the East  
displayed her silver colours through the heaven,  
but all the watchful Soldiers ready armed  
dimmed her pale cheeks with their transparent steel,  
and added lustre to the dull-sight morn;  
so stood we in full pride till the bright Sun  
climbing the glassy pavement of the skies;  
roused the slow spirits of the backward foe,  
and urged them to the field; at length stepped forth  
Zemes, in all the trappings of his state;  
And like a well-taught Hector ranged his troops  
into their several orders; all prepared,  
Tiran being fearful, stepped behind a cloud,  
lest when he saw our limbs bathed all in blood,  
and purple streams gushed from our wounded breasts  
like water from their springs, he in fear  
should be eclipsed, or startle from his sphere.  
The air was thick and dim; our armies joined,  
the skirmishes grew hot; and angry Mars  
enthroned upon the battlements of heaven,  
left either side to tug with their own strength  
till their oppressing multitude bore down  
the justice of our cause; and our whole side  
not daring to withstand, scorning to fly,  
stood trembling on the utmost brink of hope;  
then the propitious Gods singled me out  
Zemes, the life and spirit of our foes.  
We met and fought: Such was my happy fate,  
that at the first encounter Zemes fell,  
and I disarmed him; when in proud contempt  
he spit defiance in the face of death,  
opened his breast, and dared me to the stroke,  
whereby I might have sent him hence to hell:  
But I, in admiration of his worth,  
armed his right hand once more and bad him fight.  
Chance did direct my sword upon his head:  
he fell before me, and cried, Achmetes hold,  
I'm wounded to the death; and Captain, go  
tell Bajazet that thou hast slain his foe.  
I left the dying Prince; our wars were done  
and ceased with him by whom they were begun.  Isaak. 
The plot has took.  aside. Bajaz. 
Treason, by Mahomet:  
I left the dying Prince!  Isaak 
Pursue the project.  Bajaz. 
Worthy Achmetes,  
well we may give, but not reward by gifts;  
and thank, but not requite thee. I would hate  
that liberality which would abate  
the worth of the receiver: thy true fame  
outstrips the length of titles; and a name  
of weighty honour is a slender price  
to grace thy merits with: as for a voice  
to crown thee after death, thou art the choice  
of everliving glory: on thy crest  
is her abode; and when the latest rest  
of nature hath betrayed thee to thy grave,  
then shall she print in characters of gold  
how brave a man thou wast, how great, how bold:  
though we be dumb, yet shall the world uplift  
thy name, and thou shalt live without our gift:  
Yet thy blessed fates have not created thee  
so clearly Godlike, but some other chance  
may cross thy greatness, and thy high renown  
the envy of some God may shoulder down:  
then thus we'll make thee happy; future events  
ne'er shall oppress thy worth; nor envious chance  
blot thy ensuing fame. Achmetes know,  
death, an immortal gift, we thus bestow.  He casts a gown of black velvet upon him, called the mantle of death. Caigub. 
Treason, treason, O my Father, treason:  
Help Janissaries.  Excurrit. Bajaz. 
Stop the furious youth.  Exeunt Bassanes. 
Bring in an Headsman. Traitor, Zemes' dead!  
He lives to see this hand untwine thy thread.  Enter seven or eight Janissaries with swords drawn. 
What means this outrage?  Janiz. 


1. Cruel homicide.  
2. Ungrateful wretch.  
3. Tyrant.  
4. Meet hilts in's guts.  
5. First let his own hands take that Mantle off. Circled him.    Baj. 
Help! Treason, I am slain!  6. 
Help? why? From whom?  
Is not thy Guard about thee?  Bajaz. 
Hemmed in with death! my friends beset me round,  
not to preserve my life, but murder me!  
Blush you pale heavens at this abhorred fact,  
that they may see their crimes, and be ashamed  
of this unheard offence: Valiant Janissaries,  
sheet up these weapons of rebellion;  
print not that ugly sin upon your brow;  
let my free pardon woe you to submit.  
Keep your allegiance firm.  Omnes 
Ha', ha', ha', ha'!  1 
One word more damns thee.  2 
How prettily he began to talk  3 
Of sin and pardon! Bajazet, behold  
here stands a man mild, honoured, gracious,  
valiant and faithful, gentle in command,  
at home beloved, and feared amongst our foes;  
yet hath thy hand of cruelty assayed  
the hated murder of so dear a friend:  
Blush, you pale heavens, at this abhorred fact,  
that he may see his crimes, and be ashamed  
of this new bloodiness. Wicked Bajazet,  
these admonitions fit the teacher well.  Bajaz. 
But hear me speak.  4 
First set Achmetes free, then speak thy fill.  Bajaz. 
What, shall I be compelled?  5 
And quickly too.  6 
We cannot brook to see him stand thus clothed.  Takes of the Mantle. Baj. 
Your anger will have way: Achmetes go:  
there take him: They have saved thee from this woe.  Exeunt shouting and leaping. 
Pernicious villains, they have crossed my plot;  
'twas intercepted even in the last deed.  
What should Achmetes mean thus to engross  
The best affections of my Janissaries?  
Will he defraud me of my Crown and life?  
My life I weigh not: but to lose my Crown,  
were to be sentenced to a hell of woes.  
I am full stuffed with choler. Slavish Peasants,  
held I a sword of power in mine hand,  
I would disjoint them piecemeal; can I not?  
Am I not Emperor? men call me so:  
A reverend title, empty attributes,  
and a long page of words follow my name,  
but no substantial true prerogative. Enter Isaac.  Isaac. 
Good health to Bajazet.  Bajaz. 
Indeed that's nothing, since your council failed.  Isaak. 
Use your best patience, it may be regained.  
Affection in your stubborn multitude  
is a proud torrent not to be withstood.  
Were you as sacred as their household gods,  
Yet when you thwart the current of their will,  
they'll break the bands of duty, and profane  
that holiness to which they bond their thoughts.  
Mine eyes are witness with what lively joy  
They bore him through the streets upon their necks,  
Offering the use of their best strength.  Baja. 
No more.  
I am already gone. Why did not then  
his proud ambitious tongue bid them go fetch  
My Crown, and with quick speed disrobe a wretch?  
it was in his power: we are distracted Isaak,  
lend us thy wholesome counsel to prevent  
my ruin, and their dangerous intent.  Isaac. 
Mine is a blunt advice, and deep in blood,  
to cut off those base Peasants that withstood  
the force of your decree.  Bajaz. 
To cut them off?  
Me thinks I see myself yet circled in  
with their revengeful swords. Ha'? cut them off  
Can I but curse the Traitors from the earth,  
or were my doom pronounced but of effect,  
I'd rattle such new torments in their ears  
should stagger their high courage; but my fears  
strangle my furies; and my envious fate  
forceth my tongue to flatter where I hate.  Isaak 
Here lies the safest course to rid these griefs;  
Give out you'll go to war, so to enlarge  
your territories: and to this end fetch home  
those warlike Soldiers placed in Garrison;  
let them remain without the walls: at last,  
when things shall fit your purpose, lead them all  
by night into the City, and in one stroke  
strike off so many thousand perjured heads  
as shall amaze posterity to hear  
how many lives redeemed thee from thy fear.  Baj. 
The weight of all mine honour leans on thee:  
that or some nearer course shall quell the pride  
of strong Achmetes, and confound his side.   

Actus 2. Scena 8.  Enter Zemes and Alexander Bishop of Rome Bishop 
If your intents be virtuous, and desire  
of eminent place quite banished from your thoughts,  
my house shall be your Castle: that I deny  
my men and Arms to aid you in your broils,  
think it kind usage: Should my Holiness  
feed your ambition, and make strong your hand  
against your brother? 'twere too light a brand  
of flaming hot dissension, and to set  
the world in a combustion: all would then  
quarrel by my example. No, sweet Prince,  
Rome's holy Bishop must not so transgress.  
If you will dwell within my sacred roof,  
settle irregular passions, and begin  
a quiet life: repentance wipes out sin.  Zemes 
My waxed wings are melted: I will soar  
against the Sun through such thick clouds no more;  
the middle Region shall contain my flight;  
your counsel sways my wishes; my late deeds  
were full of sin: now let my brother know  
Zemes reputes; (and that's the greatest woe.) Exit.  Bish. 
To man's aspiring thoughts, how sweet is hope  
which makes them (like Chameleons) live on air,  
and hug their slender plots; till cool despair  
doth so benumb his thoughts, that he falls dead  
from his sublime height; and his lofty head  
which levelled at the skies, doth drop below  
his humble feet! this hath experience taught  
in that man's headlong ruin, whose proud thoughts  
aimed at the Turkish Diadem: but now cross fates  
have forced his stubborn heart to bow.  Enter a Messenger. 
What speaks your entrance?  Messen. 
Health to Rome's Bishop,  
and peace from Bajazet, who commends his love  
with this his Letter, and expects from you  
a gracious answer. Gives him a letter.  He reads the letter. Bish. 
" Let Zemes die by an untimely death,  
" else for our love you shall provoke our hate:  
" he's not our brother, but our hated foe;  
" and in his death you shall prevent our wo.  
Return our service back: tell Bajazet  
what he hath given in charge, shall by my hand  
be carefully dispatched.  Messen. 
Good peace attend you.  Exit. BishBish. 
Imperious Turk,  
Am I not God's Vicegerent here on earth?  
and darest thou send thy letters of command?  
or speak to me in threatening menaces?  
It grates my patience to obey this monster,  
yet must I murder Zemes, what do I know  
whether my father's soul did transmigrate  
into his breast or no? be dumb remorse,  
the Turk is great and powerful, if I win  
his love by this, 'twill prove a happy sin. Exit.    

Actus 3.  

Scena 1.  Enter Solymus alone. Solem. 
Am I so poor in worth? still kept so low?  
Was I begot only to live and die,  
to fill a place, move idly to and fro  
like other naturals? unmanly life,  
the world shall take more notice of my fame,  
else will I with the venomed sting of war  
deface the beauty, of the universo.  
Posterity shall know, once there did breathe  
a Selimus, a mortal deity,  
a man at whose blessed birth the planets smiled;  
and spent their influence to create a boy  
as brave as Greece e'er hatched, or Rome, or Troy.  Enter Isaac 
Here's Isaac Bassa, he's already mine,  
he courts my father, but intends for me,  
and furthers all my counsels; Noble friend,  
how stand our hopes?  Isaac. 
Great Sir, most happily:  
the Bassas murmur at Achmetes wrong:  
seize on their wavering love, their breasts are ope  
to him that first will enter there's free scope;  
drop dowry thy frank affection in their hands,  
to bribe is lawful: and 'tis strongly proved  
by good examples: Otho ne'er was loved,  
till he had bought the soldiers, that once done,  
Galba grew out of fashion; so must we  
addict them to us by a gainful fee:  
Give freely, and speak fairly. I'll be gone,  
stay here, the Bassas will be here anon. Exit.  Enter Mesithes. Sely. 
I shall observe thy precepts. Mesithes! welcome,  
How far you in these days of discontent?  
my duty bids me ask, and wish you well;  
I have been long a barren debtor to you,  
At length I may prove thankful: wear my love,  
'tis yours without refusal, a sleight gift, gives him a ring aside  
Yet your looks tell me 'twill help out my drift.  Mesi. 
This courtesy exceeds my weak deserts,  
sweet Prince; but when occasion calls me forth  
to help you, I'm devoted to your worth.  Sely. 
Your kind acceptance of that recompense,  
Binds me more strictly to you.  Mesith. 
Sir, farewell, Exit. and enter Mustapha  Sely. 
So one hath taken; see where another comes:  
all health to Mustapha. Musta. Thanks gracious Prince,  
your gentle pardon for my boldness, Sir.  Sely. 
Command my pardon, and commend my love  
to thy bright daughter: tell her; I admire  
her virtuous perfection; let that chain  gives him a chain 
make me remembered often in her mind.  Must. 
When my weak strength, or wealth shall stretch so far,  
as to continue—  Sely. 
No Cynic compliment, good Mustapha.  Musta. 
Then I return you thanks Exit.  Sely. 
Health follow you,  
and Honour me. Here is a third at hand.  Enter Asmehemides. Selym. 
Continuance to your health Sir.  Asme. 
Thanks gentle Prince.  
Please you to use my service?  Sely. 
Yes, thus fare.  
Spend me that purse of gold. gives him a purse.  Asme. 
What means your Highness?  Selym. 
But to deserve your kindness, and avoid  
the hated censure of ingratitude.  Asme. 
This is your liberal virtue, not my deeds;  
but you shall find me thankful. Exit.  Selym. 
So I hope;  
three steps are trod already to a Throne,  
and I am rich in friends; these proffered gifts  
conjure observance from their servile breasts.  
Oh powerful gold, whose influence doth win  
men, with desire for to engender sin!  
Isaak Bassa?  Isaak 
Even the man you wished:  
What, did the golden lure work good effect,  
and make the Bassas stoop unto your mind?  Sely. 
Words are but empty shadows, but if deeds  
answer their words, we cannot doubt their faith:  
they stoop beneath my feet; I seem to be  
as true as Jove, but sly as Mercury. Enter Mesithes.  
Here comes Mesithes muttering back again;  
but step aside, and we shall know his mind.  Mesith. 
But he is cruel, bloody, and his pride  
unsufferable great.—  Selimus 
Ha!  Mesithes 
Proud Bajazet,  
Thou hast usurped a title thy descent  
could never reach unto; thou wrong'st the world  
since thou detainest the Crown, which heavens decree  
due to a better brow: thou art defamed  
with Tyranny and wrong; but Selimus  
is void of blemishes, as truth of lies:  
bad stocks must be cut down, the good must rise.  Sely. 
He daunted me at first, but now I find  
the golds bright lustre made his judgement blind.  
Mustapha comes. Enter Mustapha.  Musta. 
Fortune hath wheeled me up above the stars,  
under a Monarch; I'll not sell my hopes.  
Bold Selimus, I'll second thy designs;  
and thou shalt Queen my daughter; that being done,  
with mine own splendour I'll eclipse the Sun.  Sely. 
Is't so? a while I'll feed thy airy hopes,  
then dash thee into nothing.  
Here's a third. Enter Asmehemides.  Asm. 
A purse of gold! I can untie the knot:  
the close aenigma says, I would be King.  
Brave Selimus, I like thy mounting thoughts;  
work out thy projects; thou canst never need  
or ask my help, but thou art sure to speed. Exit.  Sely. 
What we resolved, stands firm, but the event  
be scanned when leisure serves: we'll now prevent  
my brother's hopes, and by a sudden fate  
unto their lives and days give equal date  
to compass a blessed end: now we begin  
(Jove hath offended, if it be a sin)  
to throw a father down. Saturn did dwell  
once in the heavens, Jove threw him down to hell.  Enter Bajazet and Achmetes, hand in hand, Cherseogles, Mesithes, Mustapha, Mahomates, Achomates, Trizham, Mahomet, Asmehemides. Selimus 
But stay: Achmetes, and our father's friends?  Bajaz. 
Achmetes, I have injured thy deserts,  
suborned accusers, wronged my credulous ears,  
and my rash censure undervalved much  
thy noble spirits, when it first condemned  
them of intended treason, rinse thy soul  
in the dull river of oblivion.  
we halt beneath the burden of thy hate,  
think my moved anger made me hot and wild,  
I cannot sleep till we be reconciled.  Achm. 
The gods neglect my welfare here on earth,  
and when I shall put off this mortal load,  
let me be outlawed from the Court of heaven,  
if in this bosom there lie hid one thought  
that doth not honour Bajazet.  Baia. 
We know—  
thy virtues make us happy: valiant Sir,  
thy feet once more must tread a warlike march  
under our fearful banner, thou shalt place  
even to the walls of Rome, there dwells our foe;  
where our half Moon, reared in the middle camp,  
like a distempered Meteor in the air,  
shall strike amazement in the cloistered monks,  
and shake the Prelate's Mitre from his head,  
till he yield Zemes up alive or dead.  
When we have moved thee from thy Janissaries,  
thou shalt not travel fare. aside  Isaac 
A subtle trick,  
and well pretended, I admire thy wit. aside  Achm. 
Let me march hence, and Bajazet shall know,  
how little I befriend my Prince's foe.  
I'll cast a ring of soldiers round about  
The walls of Rome, if Zemes scape thence out,  
cut of my breath: he that's deep in blame,  
Must hazard boldly to regain his fame.  Triz. 
What means our father, noble Bajazet,  
to work untimely horrors through the world:  
desolate ruin, public discontent  
have printed deep impressions in our path,  
danger and fear scarce emptied from our town,  
the shaken members of our common wealth  
yet stagger with their wounds; when discord shall  
make but a second breach, they faint and fall,  Mah. 
Short peace hath charmed your subjects all asleep,  
and thrown a quiet slumber o'er their eyes,  
whilst with a sweet restorative she heals  
their Martyred joints, and wipeth out their scars  
writ on their bosoms by the hand of wars.  
Zemes is safely cloistered up at Rome,  
the Prelate dares not aid him, all the gods  
smile on the entrance of triumphant peace,  
war lies fast bound, nor can she work our pains,  
unless we lose the fury from her chains.  Baja. 
Our sons instruct us! must your pregnant wits  
cross my command! Bassas prepare for war;  
and since your grave discourse argues a will  
to stay at home, you shall; we'll lay you up,  
where no loud echoing drums shall break your sleep,  
even in the bowels of your mother earth  
I will entomb you: Put them both to death.  Omnes. 
What means great Bajazet?  Baja. 
To murder you, unless you strangle them.  Ambo. 
But hear us speak.  Baja. 
Stop up the damned passage of their throat,  
Or you are all but ghosts. What! stare you friends?  
Isaac and Selimus, a garter;  
twist me that fatal string about his neck,  
and either pull an end, strangle Trizham.  
Mesithes come,  
join force with me, by heaven ye were best make haste,  
Or thou art shorter lived than is that brat.  
Tug strongly at it. strangle Mahomet.  
So; let the bastard drop,  
we have outlived our tutors: dunghill slaves,  
durst they breathe out their Stoic sentences  
in opposition of our strict command?  Selym. 
So: things run well along, and now I find  
Jove hears my prayers, and the gods grow kind.  Baja. 
Did not I send these to their Provinces  
to hinder Zemes' flight? and did not they  
dejected bastards, give him open way?  
Mine anger hath been just.  Cherseo. 
None doth deny't;  
you may proceed in your edict for wars,  
and make Achmetes General of the camp.  Baj. 
It is enough: Achmetes go to hell, stabs him.  
the devils have rung out thy passing bell,  
and look for thine arrival.  
Shend me slaves. Exeunt omnes.  
They fly before my breath like mists of air,  
and are of less resistance; I'll pursue. Exit.  Achm. 
Oh I am slain! Tyrant, thy violent hand  
hath done me pleasure, though against thy will:  
had I as many lives as drops of blood,  
I'd not outlive this hour: fly hence vain soul,  
climb yonder sacred mount, strive upwards there,  
there where a guard of stars shall him thee round,  
build thee a safe tribunal— I am gone.—  
Oh tragic cruelty!— behold— the end  
of two right Noble sons— one faithful friend. moritur  Re-enter Bajazet in fury. Baj. 
Have all forsaken me? and am I left  
a prey unto myself? did all their breath  
pass through his organs? and in his sad death  
have I abruptly cracked the vital thread  
of all my Bassas? Achmetes groans.  
Ha! where am I now?  
In some Gebenna, or some hollow vault,  
where dead men's ghosts sigh out their heavy groans?  
Resolve me, Mahomet, and rid me hence,  
or I will spoil the fabric of thy tomb,  
and beat away the title of a God.  
Dost thou not move? a trunk? a stock? to die  
is to put on your nature, so will 1  Offering to stab himself, Cherseogles, Mesithes, Mustapha, Mahomates, Achomates, Selimus, Asmehemides interrupt him. Omnes 
Hold, hold, and live.  Baj. 
How come these bodies dead?  Filii. 
Father, it was yourself.  Bajaz. 
Let me revoke  
my wand'ring sense: Oh what a stream of blood  
hath purged me of my black suspicion!  
two sons, one valiant Captain hence are wrought  
by mine own hand, to cure one jealous thought.  
As 'tis, they are the happier; I outlive  
them whom I wished to fall: only to grave  
bear forth their bodies. Bassas carry them out.  
We were cursed in this,  
and shall entomb with them much of our bliss:  
indeed we had resolved to spend this day  
in things of more solemnity, less wo.  
Now our most wished council shall begin,  
and bitter deeds weigh up the scales of sin.  
Amasia is a province rich and strong,  
Mahomates▪ it is thine, keep it as long  
as I have power to give it; go, provide  
for thy conveyance at the next fair tide.  Mahom. 
Farewell dear father.  Bajaz. 
Worthy son, adieu;  
the love my dead sons wanted falls to you  
as an hereditary good.  Selimus 
Then we aside.  
may veil our heads in black, no mourners be.  Baja. 
Achomates, thy worth  
deserves some trophies of our love,  
which to let slip unmentioned, were to add  
to this black day a fourth offence as bad.  
Govern Manesia, now the people stand  
disfurnished of an head; let thy command  
be great amongst them, so; make speedy haste.  
Honour stays for thee.  Selym. 
Now the storms are past.  Achom. 
Father adieu; Exit.  Baja. 
Achomates, farewell.  Selym. 
Now to my lot, I thought 'twould ne'er a fell.  aside Baja. 
Now Selimus, we know thy hopes are great,  
and thine ambition gapes with open jaws  
to swallow a whole Dukedom; but young Sir,  
we dare not trust the reins of government  
into the hands of Phaeton. Desire,  
rashly fulfilled, may set the world on fire;  
Green youth, and raw experience are not fit  
to shoulder up a Kingdom's heavy weight;  
mix wit with stayed discretion, and spend  
wild years in study, than we do intent  
to settle more preferment on thy head  
then thou canst hope for.  Selimus 
Wilt thou envious dotard  
Strangle my greatness in a miching hole?  
the world's my study, Bajazet, my name  
Shall fill each angle of this round-built frame. Exit  Bajaz. 
I know he grumbled at it; 'tis good  
To calm the rebel heat of youthful blood  
with sharp rebukes. Enter a Messengers  Messen. 
Health to the Emperor.  Bajaz. 
What will your message?  Messen. 
Duty first from Rome,  
commended by the Bishop to your service,  
with a firm promise to dispatch your will  
what ever it employed, and would but stay  
till Times swift circle should bring forth a day  
secure for the performance. Exit.  Bajaz. 
'Tis enough.  
Thanks for your care. This was to murder Zemes.  
War with the Bishop! 'thad been pretty sport,  
I knew my powerful word was strong enough  
to make him do my pleasure: simple Priest!  
only I used it as a trick to send  
Achmetes from the City and his friends;  
but Fate so smiled upon me, that I found  
a shorter means, his life and hopes to wound  
with my sententious sons, that when my foe  
fled through their Province, finely let him go;  
which being wholly finished, straight to please  
my friends, I played a raging Hercules;  
then to shut up the Scene, neatly put on  
a passionate humour, and the worst was done.  
But who comes here? A dumb show.  Enter Mahomates with store of Turks, he as taking his leave, they as ceremoniously with great humbleness, taking their leaus, depart at several doors 
I like not this, Mahomates beloved  
so dearly of the Commonalty: ha'!  
he's wise, fairspoken, gently qualified,  
powerful of tongue; why he's the better son,  
not to supplant his Father. I mislike  
the prodigal affection thrown on him  
by all my subjects. I belied my hopes  
when I presumed this day had freely rid  
me of my worst vexation: I was born  
to be a jade to Fate, and fortunes scoff,  
my cares grow double-great my cutting off. Exit.   

Actus 3. Scena 3.  Enter Caigubus Achmetes Son. Caig. 
If ever man loved sorrow, wished to grieve,  
Father I do for thee. Can I deprive  
my senses of each object, but thy death,  
then should I joy to sigh away my breath:  
be Godhead to my grief: then shall these eyes  
with tributary tears bedeck thy shrine:  
and thus I do invoke the: nimble Ghost  
what ever or be of Heaven, what ever coast  
affords thee present mansion, quickly thence  
flit hither, and present unto my sense  
thyself a feeling substance: let me see,  
acknowledge and admire thy majesty.  
Put off that airy thinness which denies  
me to behold thee with these duller eyes,  
then shall they, sending down a powerful flood,  
rinse thy cold members from each drop of blood;  
and so return thee back, that thou may'st soar  
up to the skies, much purer than before.  
Had the just course of nature wrought thee hence,  
I would have made the gods know their offence,  
and back restore thy soul; but thou art dead,  
and 'twas a fiercer hand that clipped thy thread,  
fiercer and bolder, which did ever thrive  
by mischief, and once coffined thee alive  
up in death's mantle, but then would not use  
such open violence, nor durst abuse  
one of such sacred worth, till fury struck  
his reason dead, and made his treacherous hand  
creepingly stab thee, both unseen and foul,  
as if he would have stolen away thy soul.  
But oh!  Enter Isaac. Isaac, 
But oh indeed.  Caigub, 
Why, what?  Isaac. 
As bad  
a stroke attends thee as thy Father had:  
Princes suspicion is a flame of fire,  
exhaled first from our manners, and by desire  
of rule is nourished, fed, and rores about  
till the whole matter die, and then goes out?  Cai. 
Unfold a scene of murders: Fates work on  
we'll make a path to Heaven: and being gone,  
Down from the lofty towers of the skies  
throw thunder at the Tyrant; will he press  
the earth with weight of slaughtered carcases?  
Let him grow up in mischief, still shall her womb,  
gaping, reserve for him an empty tomb.  
We do but tread his path; and Bassa, since  
it stands upon thee now to cure thy prince  
of his distempered lunacy, go fetch  
the instrument of death, whilst I a wretch  
expect thy sad return.  Isaac. 
I go; and could  
it stand with mine allegiance, sure I should  
imply my service to a better end,  
then to disrobe the Court of such a friend. Exit  Cai. 
He that is judged down from a steepy hill  
to drop unto his death, and trembling still  
expects one thence to push him, such a slave  
doth not deserve to live, nor's worth a grave  
Then Lachesis, thou that dividest the thread  
of breath, since this day's Sun must see me dead;  
thus I'll prevent thy pain, thus I'll outrun  
my fate; and in this stroke thy work is done.  Stabs himself. 
Eternal mover, thou that whirl'st about  
the skies in circular motion, hear me out  
what I command, see that without control  
thou make Heaven clear, to entertain my soul,  
and let the nimble spirits of the air  
Print me a passage hence up to thy chair,  
there will I sit, and from the Azure sky,  
laugh at obsequious base mortality.  
Vanish my soul, enjoy, embrace thy fate  
thus, thus thou mount'st above a Tyrant's hate.  Stabs himself. dies. Enter Isaac with Executioners. Isa. 
We are prevented; see the fates command  
false deeds must die, though by the Actor's hand.  
Return to Bajazet, and bear that corpse. Exeunt  
So now I am alone, nor need I fear  
to breathe my thoughts out to the silent air;  
my conscience will not hear me, that being deaf  
I may joy freely. First thy hated breath  
Achmetes vanished, next Caigubus fell,  
thus we climb Thrones, whilst they drop down to hell.  
The glorious eye of the allseeing sun,  
shall not behold (when all our plots are done)  
a greater Prince than Selimus; 'tis he  
must share with Jove an equal Majesty.  
But for myself his Engineer, I'll stand  
above mortality, and with a hand  
of power dash all beneath me into dust,  
if they but cross the currant of my lust.  
What I but speak, 'tis Oracle and Law,  
thus I will rule and keep the world in awe.  Sely. 
Noble assistant. Enter Selimus Mesithes. Mustapha, Asmehemedes.  Isa. 
Happy Selimus.  Sely. 
'Tis thou must make me so, for should I stay  
waiting my Father's pleasure, I might stand  
gazing with envy at my Brother's pride,  
myself lying prostrate even beneath their feet.  
Towns, Cities, Countries, and what else soever  
can give high thoughts content, are freely theirs,  
●, only like a spendthrift of my years,  
Idle my time away, as if some god  
had razed my name out of the role of Kings,  
which if he have, than Isaac be thy hand  
●s great as his, to print it in again,  
though Bajazet say nay.  Isaac. 
No more: I will;  
an Empire be our hopes; that to obtain  
we'll watch, plot, fight, sweat, and be cold again. Exeunt   

Actus 3. Scena 4.  Enter Zemes and Alexander Bispop of Rome. Bish. 
Cannot my words add solace to your thoughts?  
oh! you are gulfed too deep in a desire  
of sovereign pomp, and your high thoughts aspire.  
All the unshadowed plainness of my life  
doth but contract thick wrinkles of mislike  
in your Majestic brow, and you distaste  
moral receipts, which I have ministered  
To cool Ambition's Fever.  Zemes. 
Pardon Sir,  
your holiness mistakes my malady,  
another sickness grates my tender breast,  
and I am ill at heart: alas I stand  
an abject now as well in Nature's eye,  
as erst I did in Fortunes: is my health  
fled with mine honour? and the common rest  
of man grown stranger to me in my grief?  
some unknown cause hath bred through all my blood  
a colder operation, than the juice  
of Hemlock can produce: O wretched man!  
look down propitious Godheads on my woes.  
Phoebus' infuse into me the sweet breath  
of cheerful health, or else infectious death.  
If there an Angel be whom I have crossed  
in my tormented boldness, and these griefs  
are expiatory punishments of sin?  
now, now repentance strike quite through my heart  
enough of pains, enough of bitter smart  
have tied me to't. I have already been  
bolted from joy, content can enter in,  
not at the open passage of my heart,  
I neither hear, nor see, nor feel, nor touch  
with pleasure; my vexation is so much,  
my grave can only quit me of annoy;  
that prevents mischief, which can bring no joy.  Exit. Bish. 
Now I could curse what mine own hand hath done,  
and wish that he would vomit out the draught  
of direful poison, which infects his blood.  
Ambitious fire! why 'tis as clean extinct,  
as if his heart were set beneath his feet,  
grief hath boiled out the humours of vain pride,  
and he was mere contrition. Enter a messenger.  
What's the news?  Messen. 
Zemes, as now he left you pale and wan,  
dragging his weak legs after him, did fall  
dead on the stony pavement of the Hall,  
not by unhappy chance, but as he walked,  
folding his arms up in a pensive knot,  
and railing at his Fate, as if he staged  
the wounded Priam, or some falling King,  
so he, oft lifting up his closing eye,  
sunk faintly down, groaned out, I die, I die.  Bish. 
It grieves my soul: let Bajazet know this;  
could our own shortened life, but lengthen his,  
by often sighs I would transfuse my breath  
into his breast, and call him back from death. Exit.   

Actus 3. Scena 5.  Enter Selimus, Mesithes, Mustapha. Sely. 
Let not my absence steal away my love,  
or local distance weaken the respect  
which you have ever born me; I must fly  
to shake the yoke of bondage from my neck:  
my Father's eyes shall not scan out my life  
in every action; then when I am gone,  
our love like precious mettle shall not crack  
in the protraction, but be gently framed  
into a subtler thinness, which shall reach  
from either part, not crazed by any breach.  Mesi. 
Return with ruin painted in thy brow,  
pale death triumphant in thy horrid crest,  
danger limned out upon thy threatening sword,  
the Turkish thraldom portrayed on thy shield,  
we'll meet thee in thy horror, and unfold  
our arms as wide as heaven to take thee in.  Sely. 
We trust you: if there lie unspoken love  
hid in your bosoms, we must bury it  
in silent farewells.  Musta. 
Noble Prince adieu,  
since thy frank deeds have printed in our hearts  
so true a pattern of thee, we will feed  
our contemplation with thy memory.  
When thou art really departed thus,  
a better part of thee shall stay with us. Exeunt.  Sely. 
So the swift wings of flight shall mount me up  
above these walls into the open air,  
and I will tower above thee Bajazet.  
Farewell soft Court; I have been kept too long  
within thy narrow walls, and am new born  
to golden liberty; now stretch out you heavens,  
spread forth the dewy mantle of the clouds  
thou powerful Sun of Saturn, and remove  
the terminating Poles of the fixed earth,  
to entertain me in my second birth.  Enter Isaac Bassa. Isa: 
Not yet rid from our walls! Fair Prince take heed,  
treason's a Race that must be run with speed.  
Aeolus beckons, and the flattering winds.  
join all to help our project: quickly hence:  
all's full of danger. Did your Father know  
he'd stop your flight and breath at one deaths blow.  Exit. Selimus 
Friend I am gone: thou hoary God of Seas,  
smooth the rough bosom of thy wrinkled tide,  
that my winged Boat may gently on it glide.    

Actus 4.  

Scena 1.  Enter Bajazet solus. Baja. 
How the obsequious duty of the world  
hangs shivering on the skirts of Majesty,  
and smells out all her footsteps! I could yet  
never steal leisure to reform my thoughts,  
since my pale brow was first hooped in with gold,  
till this blessed hour: and now great Bajazet  
empty thy breast of her imprisoned joys,  
which, like the smothering winds, could with a blast  
rip up a passage. I am crowned in bliss,  
placed on the rocks of strong security,  
without the reach of Fate▪ Envy shall gnash  
and pine at my full pleasures; the soft feet  
of labouring ambition shall quite tyre,  
ere touch the starry-height on which I stand.  
Achmetes and his son with my two boys  
are fallen, to clear the sunshine of my joys,  
Achomates I fear not, Selimus  
lives caged within the compass of mine eye,  
all that I doubt is of Mahomates,  
that blazing star once darkened, I will throw  
the lustre of my pomp from me, as clear  
as if three Suns were orbed all in one Sphere.  
What news brings Isaac? Enter Isaac Bassa.  Isa. 
Unwelcome news.  Baja. 
Be quick in the delivery.  Isa 
Then thus.  
Young Selimus is fled.  Baja. 
Fled!  Isa. 
Fled this night to the Tartarian King.  Baja. 
Would he had sunk  
to the Tartarian deep. Isaac, thou'rt false,  
and every hair dependant from thy head  
is a twined serpent. Isaac, I say thou'rt false,  
I read it in thy brow.  Isa. 
By heaven I am not.  Baja. 
Come; answer my demands, first, at what time  
left he the Court?  Isa. 
I know not.  Baja. 
Know he is fled,  
and know not when he fled! how can this be!  Isa. 
After our strict enquiry, 'twas our chance  
to light on one that saw him take a ship,  
at the next haven.  Baja. 
On one; bring forth that one, Exit Isaac.  
I'll sound the depth of these villainies.  Enter Isaac with a dwarf. 
What's here?  
a barrel reared on end upon two feet?  
Sirrah, you guts and garbage— did you see  
Selimus leave the Court?  Dwarf 
So please it your—  Baja. 
Please it! thou monster, are you now so pleasing.  Isa. 
My Liege hold in your fury: spend not one drop  
of your fierce anger, on so base a worm,  
keep it entire and whole, within your breast,  
that with it's vigour it may crush the bulk  
of him whose treasons move it.  Baja. 
So it shall,  
Neptune reine back thy swelling Ocean,  
invert the current of thy guilty streams  
which further treacherous plots, mild Aeolus,  
(that when a peevish goddess did entreat,  
scatteredst a Trojan Navy through the seas:)  
now Bajazet a Turkish Emperor,  
bids thee send forth thy jarring prisoners  
into the seas deep bowels: let them raise  
tempests shall dash against the firmament  
of the vast heavens, and in their stormy rage,  
either confound, or force the vessel back,  
in which the traitor sails; now, now begin  
or I shall think thee conscious of this sin.  
What would this Monk? Enter a Monk.  Monk 
Only your blessed alms.  Bajazet 
I'm in a liberal vain—  Monk shoots of a dag at Bajazet; Mesithes, and Isaac, kill the Monk. 
Traitor I'm slain!  
I feel the bullet run quite through my sides.  Isa. 
Great Mahomet hath kept you safe from harm:  
it never touched you.  Baja. 
Oh— I am slain!  
open the gates of sweet Elysium,  
take in my wounded soul: Bring forth that Monk  
I'll make him my souls harbinger, he shall  
forerun my coming and provide a place  
amongst the gloomy banks of Acheron,  
then shall he dwell with me in those black shades,  
and it shall be my bliss to torture him.  Isa. 
he's gone already, I have sent him hence.  Baja. 
Fly then my soul, and nimbly follow him,  
he must not scape my vengeance: Charon stay,  
one waftage will serve both, I come away.  Isa. 
Let not conceit thus steal away your life.  Baja. 
Me thinks I feel no blood ebb from my heart,  
my spirits faint but slowly.  Isa. 
Hear me Sir,  
You are not wounded.  Baja. 
Ha! not wounded!  Isaac. 
Untouched as yet:  
His quaking hand deceived him of his aim,  
and he quite missed your body: here behold  
the bullet yet unstained with blood.  Baja. 
Now I believe thee: oh the baleful fate  
of Princes, and each eminent estate!  
How every precious jewel in a Crown,  
charms mad ambition, and makes envy dote  
on the bewitching beauty of it's shine!  
Indeed proud Majesty is ushered in  
by superstitious awful reverence;  
but cursed mischiefs follow; and those are  
treasons in peace, black stratagems in war.  
But where's the dwarf? Isaac, go send him in;  
bid bold Mesithes, and sage Mustapha  
quickly attend us. Go. Exit Isaac.  Isa. 
I shall.  Baja. 
This hour,  
hath hatched a richer project in my brain,  
whose wished event shall strangle envies breath,  
and strike ambition dead in every breast.  Enter dwarf. 
Sirrah, draw hence the body to the ditch,  
whither the filth of the whole City runs,  
there overwhelmed in blood; go, quickly do't:  
What dost thou grin, thou visage of an ape?  he strikes him. Dwarf. 
I'll rather hang myself then endure this.  Baja. 
Nay, come; be patiented and I'll use thee well:  
why— 'twas a Sceptre struck thee, and 'twill work  
diviner operation in thy blood  
then thou canst dream of.  Dwarf. 
I'd rather be struck cross the teeth with a pudding  
then cross the back with a Sceptre.  Ba. 
A man would guests so, that overviews the dimensions.  
But to thy business.  he caries out the course. Enter Bassanes. 
Bassas stand ye round,  
Stay: who comes here? sure I should know that stature,  
observe him nearly. Enter Mahomates disguised.  Bassanes. 
'tis no Courtier.  Mahom. 
Mahomates 'tis time to look about,  
Selimus fled! Achomates adored!  
My name scarce heard of through the popular streets!  
had that unhappy arm of that damned Monk,  
not staggered from the mark at which he aimed,  
who ever sent him hither, I had leapt.  
into the empty throne, and cropped the fruit  
budding from treasons root; but I'll return  
back to my Province, this unknown disguise,  
shall search my Father's closest policies. Exit  Isa. 
Mahomates disguised!  Baja. 
By heaven 'twas he.  
He pries into my counsels: let it be.  
we'll forward in our business, which being done,  
we'll cool the hot ambition of each son,  
as mine already is, quick moving time  
hath cast a snowy whiteness on my hairs,  
and frosty age hath quelled the heat of youth;  
mine intellectual eyes, which ever yet  
gazed on the world's rich guilded vanities,  
are now turned inward, and behold within,  
dismal confusion of unpardoned sin.  
E'er since I first was settled on this Throne,  
my cares have clogged the swiftness of the hours,  
and wrought a tedious irksomeness of life,  
murders have masked the forehead of the Sun  
with purple-coloured clouds, and he hath blushed  
at the bloodsucking cruelty of state.  
There's not one little angle of this Court,  
whose guilty walls have not concealed a knot  
of traitors, squaring out some hideous plot  
against my safety; now at last I spy  
the dangers of perplexed Majesty.  
And were it not for a religious fear  
of after-harms, which wretchedly might tear,  
and spoil the body of this Monarchy,  
here at this instant would I strike the sail,  
and proud top-gallant of mine eminence,  
hurl up my sceptre, disenthrone myself,  
and let the green heads scramble for the Crown.  
Age hath taught me a staider providence  
than my rash youth could reach to; I intent  
to place this glittering babble, on the head  
of some successor, e'er I yet am dead,  
So give it out; thereby I'll try the love  
and favour of the people: whom they seem  
most to affect I'll raise to that esteem.  
How do you like the counsel?  Cheers. 
As we could like  
a voice of health sent from the careful gods.  
This news will lay the fury of your sons,  
and breed low duty in them all, in hope  
of the reward proposed.  Exeunt Bajazet Cherseogles. Manent Mustapha, Isaac, Mesithes, Ashmehemides. Isa. 
Awake preventions eyes, we must not sleep  
if we would see proud Bajazet displaced,  
and Selimus elated to his height.  
Name him the people favours!— he affects  
Achomates: and knows, the multitude  
wrapped with his heavenly wisdom, cry for him,  
we must be quick and wary, here are keys  
left, and laid up by Selimus, that store  
shall visit empty, purses and enchant  
the needy sort of men, that the one's wealth,  
shall weigh up tother's wisdom in the scale  
of their light judgement; lend your best endeavours,  
we'll cross thee Bajazet, and thy hopes shall die  
by thine own ill-contrived policy. Exeunt   

Actus 4. Scena 2.  Enter Bajazet, takes Asmehemedes by the hand, a Courtier belonging to Mahomates. Baja. 
Leave us; we would be private with our friend,  
'tis thou must do't sweet Asmehemedes:  
Mahomates and thou art two near friends;  
he will suspect in others close deceit;  
thee, for thy generous virtues he will stand  
with obvious embracements to receive  
into his bosom; whither when thou art  
wound in, be sure to strike him through the heart.  
I am offended, 'tis just piety  
to sacrifice his body at the shrine  
of my displeasure: do it, I am thine.  Asme. 
Were he as dear to me, as the half part  
of mine own body, as the breath I draw;  
I'd do this charge: we mortals must obey  
when gods command, and Emperors are they. Exit.  Baja. 
So willing to be damned! had I adjoined  
some virtuous office, surely he would then  
have said, that good deeds are not deeds of men.  
But let them go; Mahomates must die,  
and for my other boy fierce Selimus,  
the boisterous hand of war must snatch him hence,  
my other Son Corcutus lives immured  
within Minerua's cloister, thus I clear,  
a path through which Achomates shall run  
up to my throne when all their hopes are done. Exit.   

Actus 4. Scena 3.  Enter Achomates. Acho. 
The promise was direct and absolute,  
to bless my Temples with a sacred Crown,  
with protestations of a quick dispatch,  
ere his own right were canceled by fate;  
so to cut off all rivals in my joys.  
What intercedent chance hath made his care  
so slack in the performance? by heaven, I fear,  
delays will prove delusions of my hopes,  
and that homebred Mercurian Selimus  
will split the expectation of my bliss:  
forefend it Mahomet, or I shall be  
a sad revenger of indignity.  
How now! What speaks this bold intrusion?  Enter a Messenger. Messen. 
Health to Achomates from Bajazet.  Acho. 
From Bajazet! unfold thy welcome news:  
How fares our Noble Father?  Messen. 
In full health:  
and wills you thus by me, to muster up  
your surest forces: and with moderate haste,  
repair unto the Court, where you shall find  
employments worthy of a valorous mind.  Acho. 
To muster arms! canst thou surmise the cause?  Messen. 
With confidence I dare not; but 'tis said,  
against that haughty Noble Selimus,  
who of the Tartar King implored aid,  
to an uncertain end: himself gives out  
to fight with Hungary, and stretch the bounds  
of the old Turkish regiment: But fame  
with panting voice bids Bajazet beware,  
and whispers in his ear, he is the foe,  
Proud Selimus intends to overthrow.  Acho. 
Enough, regret our Father with our love;  
tell him we shall not sleep to his command;  Exit. 
Fly nimbly back. Dares the audacious boy  
trouble the world with his tempestuous arms?  
I'll chastise him with iron whips of war,  
if either strength or stratagems will serve  
to spoil the gaudy plumes of his high crest,  
I'll use the strongest violence of both;  
I am swollen big with hate, and I could break  
untimely passage with a wholesome stab  
to vent the monster strangled in my womb.  
Father I come, he that detains a Crown  
bequeathed to me, must thunderstrike me down.  Enter Corcutus. Corcu. 
Buzzing reports have pierced my study walls,  
and clogged my meditations airy wings,  
by which I mount above the moving spheres  
and search the hidden closerts of the heaven,  
I cannot live retired, but I must hear  
mine own wrongs sounded in my troubled ear:  
What! will my father falsify that oath;  
In which he vowed successions right to me?  
When I resigned my honours up to him,  
he deeply swore, when the usurping Sun  
of his bright-shining royalty had run  
It's complete course through the whole heaven of state,  
and fainting dropped into the Western lapse;  
my brightness next should throw it's golden beams,  
upon the world's wide face, and overpeer  
the dusky clouds of hidden privacy:  
and shall Achomates succeed! Shall he  
shine in the spangled robes of Majesty?  
then Bajazet is false, let it be so  
I am secured from a huge mass of woe.  
Yet I'll tothth' Court, that when Achomates  
shall spy me, and remember but my due,  
'twill stain his lustre with a blushing hue.  Enter Bajazet, Cherseogles. Baja. 
My cares are grown too great to be comprised  
within the narrow compass of my breast,  
Viceroy of Greece, I'll pour into thy heart  
part of my secrets; which being entered in,  
lock them as close up, as thou wouldst a sin  
committed, yet not known: I must impart  
things worth thy faithful silence.  Cheers. 
Worthy Sir,  
by the enclosure of my soul I swear—  Baja. 
I'll not hear out thine oath, in brief, 'tis thus,  
the Bassas are all false, and love not us;  
Nor doth my brainsick fury prompt me thus,  
I read it in their gestures, conventicles,  
actions, and counsels, my suspicious eye  
hath found a great breach in their loyalty.  Cheers. 
Surely this cannot be.  Bajazet. 
By— 'tis true,  
each man that guards mine honour is my foe,  
I'll shake these splendent robes of Majesty  
from my o'erburdened shoulders, and to ease  
myself, bequeath them to Achomates.  Cherse. 
Achomates?  Baja. 
Even he, unless the voice  
Of the whole City interdict my choice.  Enter Isaac, Mesithes, Mustapha. Cherse. 
Here comes the Bassas,  
sure I see bad news  
portrayed on the Index of their fronts.  Baja. 
Bad news? We have outlived good days too long,  
we can expect no other: come, unclasp  
volumes of mischiefs, and make deaf my ears  
with an infused multitude of cares.  Bassanes. 
Young Selimus hath crossed Danubius' flood  
and seized upon the Provinces of Thrace,  
and with a Navy ploughed the Euxine Sea,  Baja. 
Peace bellowing night-ravens; with how cheerful noise  
their puffing lungs croak out the baleful note?  
Are these the wars 'gainst Hungary? You powers  
of heaven, brush off your cloddy patience;  
If you but wink at these notorious crimes,  
I'll say you dare not check our stubborn times.  
Well, as yet I'll make use of his pretence.  
Viceroy of Greece, bear you this Embassy  
to that suspected Traitor Selimus;  
Tell him, the wars 'gainst the Hungarian foe  
are full of dangers, and approved harms;  
never attempted by our Ancestors,  
without repulse or damage; bid him dismiss  
his rough Tartarian youths: then if he stand  
Unmoved and stiff, feign vengeance is at hand:  
make thy best speed.  Cherse. 
I shall. 'twill be well done  
to reconcile a Father and a Son, Exit.  Baja. 
Thought he tumultuous uproars could deserve  
the favours of his Prince? h'as trod awry,  
and missed the path that leads to Majesty.  
These bright Imperious ornaments shall grace  
no rebel-monster, nor base runaway;  
my resolution's firm, it shall not be.  
Bassas, this day an Herald shall proclaim  
in the world's ear, my great successor's name,  
are you content?  Bassanes. 
We are.  Bajaz. 
Call forth an Herald.  Isaak. 
As our allegiance binds us we'll obey.  Exit Mustapha, calls in an Herald. 
But what we grant, the Soldiers will gainsay. Aside:  
Thou shalt not thrive in this, I dare be bold,  
my golden hooks have ta'en a faster hold.  Baja. 
Herald,  
be my loud Echo, ratify my deed,  
and say Achomates shall next succeed.  Herald. 
Bajazet the second by the appointment of our great Prophet Mahomet, the only Monarch of the World, a mighty God on earth, an invincible Caesar, King of all Kings, from the East unto the West, Governor of Greece, Sultan of Babylon, Sovereign of Persia and Armenia, triumphant Tutor of Jerusalem, Lord possessor of the Sepulchre of the Crucified God, subverter and sworn enemy of the Christians, and of all that call upon Christ, proclaimeth Achomates his second son next and immediate successor. An alarm of Trumpets  Within. 
None but Bajazet, none but Bajazet.  Bajaz. 
By heaven, they are corrupted: none but I?  
'Tis no love borne to me that moves this cry.  Mesith. 
Great Bajazet, the cause why they deny  
this just proposal, riseth from an use  
and customary licence long observed;  
to wit, when their crowned Emperor is dead,  
the interposed vacation is a time  
of lawless freedom: then they dare to spoil  
the Jewish Merchants of their traffic wares,  
and prey upon all strangers: so that should  
your Honour be conferred upon your son  
Whilst you yourself yet breath, than should they lose  
their long expected gains; therefore refuse  
what you proposed.  Bajaz. 
If that be all the cause,  
we'll give them such a Kingly donative  
as doubly shall buy out those illgot spoils:  
five hundred thousand Duckats, if they please  
with my free choice to crown Achomates,  
Proclaimed to be their due. A flourish of Trumpets.  Herald. 
Bajazet the second, by the appointment of our great Prophet Mahomet, etc. proclaimeth, that he'll attribute five hundred thousand Duckats, if you yield allegiance to Achomates his successor.  Trumpets sound again. Within. 
None but Bajazet, none but Bajazet.  Baja. 
Achomates I sent for, how he'll digest  
these gross illusions, I may justly fear:  
by this I had discouraged Selimus,  
and killed his hopes; by this I had cut off  
the growth of hate, and choked discords seed. Exit.  Enter Mustapha with a Messenger to the other Bassas. Mustaph. 
Bear this to Selimus with thy best care.  Mesith. 
And this. Give him Letters.  Isaac. 
And this: fly, let thy winged speed  
return a sudden answer, else we bleed.   

Actus 4. Scena 5.  Enter Selimus, Tartarian King, Attendants. Tartar. 
Go on brave Prince; Led on thy marshaled troops,  
degrade the Turkish Monarch, let him faint  
at the deep wounds which thy revengeful hand  
shall print upon the bosom of his land.  
Go on; Me thinks I see Victoria sit  
triumphant on thy steely Burganet.  Exit Tartarian King. Selym. 
Farewell: now I will meet thee Bajazet,  
with a career as free as if Heaven's Jove  
had bid me go: Bespeak the stoutest gods  
to take thy part; tell them that thou must meet  
a Selimus, who when the wars are done,  
will scale the Forts and Castles of the Sun,  
break up the brazen gates of Acheron,  
and bury Nature with the world together.  
Captains lead on; Now shall the sword and fire  
by public ruins crown my just desire.  
Sleep Hungary, I'll not break off thy rest  
with the unwelcome Music of my Drums;  
I'll turn the edge of my revengeful sword  
upon the bosom of my native soil;  
There dwells the motive of my Tragic wars,  
whose ruthless sad Catastrophe shall wound  
posterity in us: Infants shall mourn  
over their Father's tombs as yet unborn.  
But who comes here? I'll meet him.  
Noble Viceroy. Enter Cherseogles.  Cherseo. 
Peace and health to Selimus.  Selym. 
Health, but not peace, whilst yonder light can see  
mortals, whom Turkish force could ne'er subdue.  Cherseo. 
Yet what if Bajazet, our honoured Lord,  
bid you roll up those flaxen signs of war,  
and sheathe the sword drawn forth against his foe?  
when duty says obey, what shall say no?  Selym. 
My courage, and a proud contempt of all  
corrival Nations, could send back a no,  
able to fright a Parliament of gods;  
It could so: but if Bajazet gainsay,  
my plumy valour flags, my thoughts give way.  Cheers. 
Then thus; he wills you to discard your force,  
and send the black Tartarians to their home;  
withal averring, the Hungarian foe  
(against whose power you have summoned Arms)  
is full of strength and power, ne'er opposed  
without the bitter downfall of our side.  
Nor would the world's great Monarch Bajazet,  
impair his fame so much, as to be said,  
he tamed a Foe by Tartars borrowed aid.  Sel. 
Ha! I am vilely nonplussed. Courteous Viceroy,  
return our duty back to Bajazet,  
even in the humblest terms wit can invent;  
tell him, he hath a son of that high spirit,  
as doth detest a cowardly retreat.  
Were all the dead Heroes of our foes,  
All that are now, and all that are to come  
met in one age, I'd face them drum to drum.  
Bid our dear Father be secure of me  
and my proceed: then true valour shines  
most bright, when busied in the greatest designs.  
Is not this answer fair?  Cheers. 
Most true: and yet  
'twill prove distasteful.  Selym. 
No, it cannot be:  
If there be too much valour in this breast,  
blame him that placed it there, even Bajazet.  
My virtues and my blood are both derived  
from his first influence, and I must either hate  
disgraceful calumnies, or degenerate.  Cheers. 
All this I'll tell your Father; yet he'll rest  
as much unsatisfied as at the first,  
he will expect the headstrong pride of youth  
should strike low sail to his grave providence.  Selym. 
And so it shall: say Viceroy, I obey,  
and reverence his counsel more, then fear  
an host of armed foes: tell him I'll come  
to his Court gates with neither man nor drum.  
Cherseo. I'll tell it him with joy, which when he hears,  
he'll be disburdened of a thousand fears. Exit.  Selym. 
Remember my just duty: 'tis no matter,  
I will retain that till I come myself.  
I am not outreached yet by all these tricks;  
my hopes are farther strong, I'll to the Court  
with a close march, in no submissive sort,  
and steal upon them: Instantly I go  
to meet my Father, but a subtle foe.  As he goes out, a Messenger meets him, gives him the Letters. Messen. 
Good health to Selimus.  Selym. 
Good health! From whom?  Messen. 
Isaac, Mesithes, Mustapha salute you.  Selym. 
Those good Triumvirs, what is't they speak?  Opens the Letters; Reads the first. 1. 
[To feed on hopes is but a slender diet.]  
'Tis short, but full of weight: To feed on hope  
is but a slender diet! Let it be. descants  
I'll mend my table, though no feast with me.  Reads the second. 2. 
[Fair opportunity is bald behind.]  
'Tis true indeed, Mesithes. Never fear,  
I'll twist my fingers in her golden hair.  
What speaks the third? ' This writes more at large,  
and comments on the prefixed principals.  Reads the third. 3. 
[Your Father did proclaim who should succeed;  
Public denials nullified his deed;  
Your haste will be convenient; things concur  
to bless your hopes. Fate bids you not demur.]  
Yours Isaac Bassa  
Isaac, I am thine,  
and come to finish up our great design. Exit.   

Actus 4. Scena 6.  Enter Achomates solus. Achom. 
Unquiet anguishments and jealous fear  
fly from my thoughts, like night before the Sun:  
I'm lifted to the highest Sphere of joy,  
My top enveloped in the azure cloud,  
and starry rich habiliments: my feet  
set rampant on the face of Nature's pride;  
The rarest work woven by her handmaid Art  
clothes my soft pleasures; I'm as great as Jove,  
Only I rule below, he reigns above.  
Oh! the unspoken beauty of a Crown,  
whose empty speculation mounts my soul  
up to an heavenly Paradise of thoughts!  
Father, I come, that thou may'st crown my head,  
whilst apprehensive reason stands amazed,  
amidst the blissful shades of sweet conceit.  
Then I'll call back my wand'ring intellect  
from dreams, and those imaginary joys;  
I'll teach my soul to twine about a Crown,  
to sweat in raptures, to fill up a Throne  
with the big-swelling looks of Majesty;  
I'll amble through a pleasure's Labyrinth,  
and wander in the path of happiness,  
as the true object of that faculty.  
Great Bajazet, I come. Thou must descend  
from Honour's high Throne, and put off thy right  
to build me up an heaven of choice delight. Exit.   

Actus 4. Scena 7.  Enter Mesithes, Mustapha, Isaac. Mesith. 
The Emperor gins to smell deceit;  
I know by his ill looks and sparkling eye  
that he affects us not.  Musta. 
I doubt as much.  
Young Selimus has wronged our loyalty  
in his so slack proceed; we were rash  
and indiscreetly-forward in consent,  
when we joined on to raise his government.  Isaac. 
Peace, 'tis too late to chide at what is done,  
we have so deeply waded in the streams  
of those procellous plots, nor can revoke  
repentant footsteps, or securely creep  
back to the Throne of safety: 'tis now good  
to venture on, and swim quite through the flood.  
Here comes the Emperor. Enter Bajazet and Asmehemedes  Baja. 
Attend us Bassanes.  
Art sure he's dead?  Asm. 
Mahomates is dead.  
There's nothing moving of him but his soul,  
and that robbed of his body by this hand.  Baja. 
Enough. That soul revives to see him dead  
that wronged the body; Oh! my bloody heart,  
Must in his frenzy act an horrid part.  
Fellow thy Prince to hell. Stabs him.  Asmeh. 
To death! Oh devilish ingratitude:  
I'm slain. I die. Moritur.  Baja. 
And justly: would each foe  
and Traitor to my state were thwarted so.  
Bassas, convey this hated body hence,  
the sight of that damned villain moves offence:  They carry him out. 
Now pause a while my soul, and reckon up  
what obstacles are yet to be removed.  
Achomates must stay the people's leisure.  
Corcutus dally with Minerva's Nymphs.  
The last and worst, proud Selimus shall die.  
Thus I le compose a firm security.  Enter Bassanes with Cherseogles. Baja. 
Arrived already, noble Cherseogles?  
You're careful in our cause: but speak the news  
from our pert Soldier. What means Selimus!  Cherseo. 
To tract the path backward from whence he came,  
to strip himself of martial ornaments,  
and to fill up the duty of a Son,  
come visit you in low submission.  Baja. 
These are too fairly promised, to be meant,  
ambition hath already chained his soul  
too surely in the captive bonds of pride,  
then that he now should cloath his stately hopes  
in the plain sordid weeds of penitence;  
He doth but varnish o'er some treacherous plot  
in this smooth answer: come, we'll lead along  
to our Imperial seat of Constantine,  
that's strongly fortified, we need not fear  
the weak attempts an homebred foe can dare.  Exeunt Bajazet and Cherseogles. Mesith. 
Ha! we are sweetly plunged, if cold despair  
benumb his youthful courage, and he faint.  Mustaph. 
Would I were fairly rid of all these cares.  Isaac. 
Dejected Cowards: are you not ashamed  
thus to give up the goal of dignity  
to heartless fear? Here comes the Messenger.  
What news from Selimus?  Messen. 
Even nothing certain:  
ambiguously he promised to be here  
as soon as 1  Mesith. 
Is't even so?  Musta. 
We are quite dashed— undone.  Isa. 
Lift up your downcast spirits. Who comes here?  Enter Selimus. Mesith. 
Who? Selimus?  Musta. 
Where? sweet Isaac, do not tell him,  
that we were sending forth faith's latest breath.  Isaac. 
Enough, I will not. Happy Selimus.  Bassanes 
Long live great Selimus.  Sely. 
We thank you friends:  
Your care hath fostered up our infant hopes  
beyond the pitch of expectation.  
We hear that Bajazet is going now  
from hence to Constantinople; my men  
lie closely ambushed in the middle way,  
close by a ruinous city, there expect  
a sudden onset; but till then farewell,  
When we meet next, our ensigns waved on high,  
shall shine like Meteors blazing in the sky. Exit  Isaac. 
Fortune's best care go with thee.  Mesith. 
Brave boy, i'faith.  Musta. 
I shall adore him whilst I breathe for this.  Isaac. 
Again in heart?  
Let's follow Bajazet, come lads, away,  
the sun of all his glory sets this day. Exeunt  Enter Selimus with soldiers. Selym. 
Come on, the honoured youth of Tartary,  
my brothers, and joint sharers of my woe,  
draw forth the weapons of inflamed revenge  
against this horrid monster's Tyranny;  
I seem like Rome's great Caesar, when, oppressed  
with Pompey's grating malice, he led forth  
his noble Frenchmen through the snowy Alps.  
I have my Curio Isaac in the Court,  
and Cherseogles, like grim Cato's ghost,  
soothes the rough humour of fierce Bajazet.  
These men's examples, were we faint and loath,  
would set sharp spurs unto our slow paced wrath,  
and whet our dull-edged anger: but I see  
in your smooth brow perfect alacrity.  
We stand to thwart the passage of a fiend,  
through whose wide yawning throat hath coasted down  
the blood of Princes, in continual streams;  
has fed and pampered up his appetite  
with the abhorred destruction of his own,  
and glutted on the blood of innocents'.  
Stood we like marble statues in his way,  
and had no use of policy and wit,  
our Ireful Prophet Mahomet would send  
sense, life, and valour through our stony joints,  
that we might ruinated this ghastly bore,  
made by some hellish fury to confound  
the order of this wondered Universe.  
I'll grapple with the monster, he's at hand;  
If you stand firm, the Common Wealth may be  
a slave to Bajazet; but I'll live free.  Enter Bajazet, Cherseogles, Isaac, Mesithes, Mustapha. Baja. 
No Drum nor Trumpet hath disturbed the air,  
within the reach of mine attention.  Isaac. 
And I admire it; 'twere a miracle  
if that ambitious boy intent no harm.  Omnes. 
What noise is that?  A confused noise of exclamation within, arm, arm, arm. Soldiers. 
Help Bajazet, the vanguard's almost slain;  
the Tartars lay in ambush.  Baja. 
What? so near?  
Set up our standard, I'll give battle here;  
hang out defiance, scorn, and proud contempt  
write in the blood-red colours of your plumes:  
summon our Army Enter a drum  
from these skirmishes,  
speak out the traitor's doom in thine alarms.  
Thought he to daunt our courage?  Drum sounds. Enter soldiers severally, dropping in sweeting, as from fight. 
Valiant soldiers,  
when I behold the manner of this war,  
when treason copes with awful Majesty,  
a graceless son, with his own aged Sire,  
me thinks to bid you fight, were full as vain  
as to bid heavy clouds fall down in rain:  
but when I view the Chaos of the field,  
and wild confusion striking valour dead,  
I called you, not (as Captains do to boys)  
to read a lecture of encouragement;  
but that your ancient virtue may be shown  
in this my last defence: I wish to die  
revenged, that death sorts best with Majesty.  Drums sounding; A confused noise, with clashing of armour. Excurrunt Bajazet, and Selimus. Baja. 
Selimus?  Selym. 
Bajazet?  Baja. 
Jove lend me but a minute's patience.  
Unnatural son!  Selimus. 
Uncharitable Father!  Baja. 
Father? My sword shall hue that title off;  
and cut in twain kindreds continued line,  
by which thou canst derive thy blood from mine.  
Abortive monster— thou first breath of sin,  
we had but slender shadows of offence,  
till thou creptst forth to the offended light,  
the very mass, and stock of villainy.  
Crimes in all others, are but thy influence.  
Nature has planted viperous cruelty  
In thy dark breast, the scandal of her works,  
her error, and extract perfection  
of vices; the first wellhead of bad things  
from whence the world of ills draw their weak springs.  Sel. 
Then hear me speak too: you have been to me  
no Father, but a sour Pedantic wretch;  
one that with frosty precepts strived to kill  
the flaming heat of my ambitious youth,  
as vainly as to strangle fire with straw:  
you sit so daily hover on your Throne,  
as if you'd hatch new Monarchies to feed  
the hungry gulf of your unbridled pride;  
Y'ave surfeited on titles, y'ave engrossed  
honour, you are the moth of eminence,  
and liberal fortunes answered your desires;  
You had deflowered th'infinity of Crowns  
With your adulterate ambition;  
Y'are Sovereignty's horseleech, and have spilt  
the blood of State, to have your own veins filled.  Baja. 
Hold, hold thy venomed tongue, if there be hid  
more of this kind unuttered; I'll rip up  
thy full fraught bosom; and to save mine ear,  
mine eyes shall overview what I'll not hear.  
Dar'st thou fight, Traitor?  Selym. 
Dare I be called a King?  
Dare I unsheathe my sword, or gather might?  
If I dare aught of these, I dare to fight.  Baja. 
Guard thee, I'd not omit the sweet desire  
and pleasure of revenge, were heaven my hire.  They fight, Selimus is beaten off, Bajazet pursues, reenters at another door. 
The slave has 'scaped the power of my wrath;  
midst the dissevered troops of scattered foes  
I lost him in a smoky cloud of dust,  
so thick as if the tender Queen of Love,  
had wrapped her brat Aeneas from my sight.  Enter Isaac, Mesithes, Mustapha. Isaak. 
Joy to my Liege, of his last victory.  Mesith. 
The bold Tartarians flew like fearful Hearts  
before the hunter's rage.  Baja. 
So let them fly;  
heaven rain down vengeance on their cursed heads;  
it is our honour that the frighted slaves  
own their lives dearest safeties to their heels.  Enter a Dwarf 
How now, whence come you?  Dwar. 
From yonder hayricke, Sir.  Baja. 
Didst thou see Selimus when he fled the field?  Dwar. 
No indeed, I was two fare crept in.  Baja. 
O you are brave attendants.  
Let's forward in our journey; these affairs  
Achomates must know; his golden wish  
the people have delayed; perhaps he'll frown,  
and trample filial duty under feet  
as this hath done: but let them storm their fill  
virtue's not shipwrackt in a sea of ill.    

Actus 5.  

Scena 1.  Enter Achomates alone, with a bloody sword in his hand. Achom. 
An honoured Legate, an Ambassador!  
as if that title, like Medea's charm,  
could stay the untamed spirit of my wrath!  
Had he been sent a messenger from heaven,  
and spoke in thunder to the slavish world;  
If he had roared one voice, one syllable  
cross to my humour, I'd a searched the depth  
of his unhallowed bosom, and turned out  
his heart, the profane seat of saucy pride.  
Slain an Ambassador! no less! 'tis done,  
and 'twas a noble slaughter, I conceive  
a joy ineffable to see my sword  
bathed in a blood so rare, so precious  
as an Ambassadors: must we be told  
of times delays, and opportunities?  
that the base soldier hath gainsaid our bliss?  
Thought Bajazet his son so cold, so dull,  
so innocently blockish, as to hear  
an Embassy most harsh and grossly bad?  
the people to deny me! We contemn  
with strange defiance Bajazet, and them.   

Actus 5. Scena 2.  Enter Isaac, Mesithes, Mustupha. Mesith. 
Mischief on mischief, all our hopes are dead,  
slain in the hapless fall of Selimus.  Must. 
I think the devils fought for Bajazet,  
and all the infernal hags; how could he else  
with a confused army, and half slain,  
break the well-ordered ranks of a strong foe?  Mesith. 
And unexpected too?— Now Isaac! what!  
Sadly repenting for thy last misdeeds!  
Plots and conspiracies against thy Prince!  
Faith we must hang together—  Isaac. 
Good Mesithes,  
'tis nothing so: they say, Achomates,  
disdaining to be mocked out of his hopes,  
and most desired possession of the Crown,  
has in contempt of Bajazet and all,  
slain the Ambassador, and vows revenge  
on every guilty agent in his wrong.  Mustaph. 
I looked for that, and therefore first shrank back,  
when Bajazet made choice of one to send  
on such a thankless errand as that was.  Mes. 
Grant the report be true: what's that to us?  Isa. 
Fame in mine ear ne'er blabbed a sweeter tale;  
this shall redeem our low dejected hopes  
to their full height. No more; be it my charge,  
to choose out the event— What's this comes here?  Musta. 
Upon my life, the body of the slain  
Ambassador.  Enter the Ambassadors followers with the dead body. Mesi. 
'Tis so.  Isa. 
We greet you friends,  
and your sad spectacle.  Followers. 
'tis sad enough  
to banish peace and patience from each breast  
that owes true loyalty to Bajazet.  Isa. 
And so it shall; lay down the injured corpse.  
Achomates has wronged his Father's love  
too grossly, in the murder even of him  
that bore his sacred person, and should stand  
inviolably honoured by the law  
of men and nations.  
But here comes Bajazet.  Enter Bajazet and Cherseogles Baja. 
A tragic spectacle! Whose trunk is this?  Follow. 
The body of your slain Ambassador.  Baja. 
Slain! by what cursed violence? what sword  
durst touch the man that represented me?  Follow. 
Achomates.  Baja. 
Achomates!  Follow. 
The same:  
Highly displeased with the unexpected news  
of a denial from the people's mouth,  
his reason slipped in fury and contempt,  
hath thus abused your gracious Majesty.  
Withal, he threatened to maintain this sin  
with force of arms, and so resolved to win  
your Crown, without such tarriance—  Baja. 
Oh! no more,  
I am unfortunate in all my blood.  
Hath he thus guerdoned my fair promises,  
my daily sweat and care to further him,  
and fix him in the Paradise of joy?  
Nations cry out for vengeance of this fact,  
I'll scourge this black impiety to hell.  
Muster our forces to the utmost man;  
once more I'll bury this my aged corpse  
in steely armour, and my coloured crest  
like a bright star shall sparkle out revenge  
before the rebels faint amazed eyes.  
Lose not a minute; Bassas hence, be gone,  
muster our men, stay not; that from the tide  
of our fierce wrath, no drop may ebb away  
by causeless linger.  Must. 
Whom speak you, General?  Baja. 
Whom but myself? whom doth the cause concern  
more nearly than myself?  Isa. 
My honoured Liege,  
bear your best care about you; 'tis a time  
of double danger; but remove the one,  
the other strait called forward: Selimus,  
great in the favour of Tartaria's King,  
is maned afresh with soldiers; his assault  
threatens as much as fierce Achomates,  
and must be born off with your ablest forces;  
then if you leave the City to subdue  
one of these two, expect ere you return,  
t'other possessed and seated on your throne.  Baja. 
Distraction rends my soul: what shall I do?  Isa. 
Force out one nail with t'other of these two,  
choose him you most affect, and best dare trust,  
allure him fairly home, wink at his crimes,  
and then create him your high General,  
to lead against his brother: since yourself  
cannot at once oppress two foes so stout,  
try if one heat can drive another out.  Baja. 
Isaac, we like thy counsel: but of these,  
which can we pardon? either so deboist,  
so guilty of rebellion, so divorced  
from pious loyalty, that my soul even both  
with bitter hatred equally may loathe.  Isa. 
First weigh their faults, the one a brainsick youth,  
endeavoured to supplant your Majesty;  
the other in defiance and contempt  
of God and man, profaned the holy rites  
of an Ambassador.  Mesi. 
For which dire fact,  
should it slip up unpunished, the name,  
the fearful name of Bajazet would prove  
the subject of each libel, and the scoff  
of petty Princes.  Baja. 
Enough; we have decreed  
Achomates shall quake beneath the stroke  
of our fierce anger. Isaac, speed away  
to Selimus, he shall confront the slave,  
the best of two so bad; go,— stay,— yet go,  
'tis hard when we beg succour of a foe:  
Beg! stay again— first will I drop before  
the sword of proud Achomates;— go— tell him,  
upon his low submission we will deign  
to make him Champion to his Sovereign.  Exit Isaac. Enter Corcutus to his Father. 
My dear Corcutus welcome.  Corcu. 
Royal Father. Kneels.  Baja. 
Arise thou only solace of mine age:  
it was a night of harmless innocence,  
of peace and rest, in which kind nature laid  
thee in thy mother's womb: Right virtuous boy,  
how hast thou lived untainted with the breath  
of that infectious vice, Rebellion!  Corcut. 
Right noble Father, 'tis a faithful rule  
in moral rites, that who desires a good,  
and most suspects his right to it, is bold  
and turbulent, and eager in pursuit;  
whereas the man to whom this good is due,  
rests happily contented, till time fit  
Crown him in the possession of his wish.  Baja. 
Well moralised: I understand thee, Boy,  
my grant shall melt thy prayers in full joy.  Exeunt.  

Actus 5. Scena. 3.  Enter Selimus and Soldiers. Sely. 
Once more (in hope to gain, and fear to lose  
a Crown and Kingdom) we have marched thus near  
the seat of a dread Emperor, to try  
the chance of war, or resolutely die.  
Fear no cross blow, for with this hand I move  
the wheel of Fate: and each success shall run  
even with our pleasures, till our hopes are spun  
up to their full perfection: this day's light  
that looks so cheerfully, shall see as bright  
as it, my crown and glory. Makes a stand.  As they march on, enter Isaac Bassa. 
What stranger's this? my blessed Genius haunts me.  
Isaac! I take thee in with open love.  
What speaks thy Presence?  Isa. 
Good news to Selimus.  Sely. 
From whom?  Isa. 
From Bajazet.  Sely. 
'Tis strange, if good.  Isa. 
And full as good as strange. March quickly hence,  
I'll tell you as we walk; if constant Chance  
smile on our project. e'er this Sun go down,  
we may salute you with a glorious Crown.  Sely. 
I follow even to death. Grand Mars to thee  
I'll build an Altar, if thou prosper me. Exeunt.   

Actus 5. Scena 4.  Enter Achomates and Soldiers. Acho. 
Revenge my black impiety; each brow  
seems with a scornful laughter to deride  
those empty Menaces of Bajazet.  
And Bajazet is not our Father now,  
sigh he hath wronged the duty of a Son;  
but a scorned Enemy, whose prostrate soul  
shall make a step by which I will ascend  
up to the radiant throne of heavenly State,  
if you but lend your help and free consent.  Soldiers. 
Led us along the misty banks of hell,  
through Seas of danger, and the house of death,  
we are resolved to follow, one by one  
to second each step of Achomates.  Acho. 
This resolution is as great as just,  
continue it brave spirits: he's a slave,  
that having sinned, dares not defend his sin.  
The world shall know I dare: For though our cause  
be wrong, yet we'll make good the breach of laws.  Exeunt.  

Actus 5. Scena 5.  Enter Bajazet and Corcutus. Cor. 
Would I had slept with Trizham, and that hand  
that strangled Mahomet had stopped my breath,  
rather than live to see myself thus wronged.  Baja. 
Despair not sweet Corcutus, what I promised,  
I'll keep most true, and here again I vow  
when I am dead, this honour to thy brow.  
I have called home that rebel Selimus,  
only to tame a Traitor: And that done,  
we have no other heir, no other son  
beside Corcutus, to whose free command  
we do bequeath the duty of this land.  Enter Mesithes and Mustapha. 
Is Isaac not returned?  Mesi. 
My Liege, he is.  Musta. 
And Selimus with him.  Baja. 
Let them approach.  Enter Selimus and Isaac, as they enter speak. Isa. 
Let your high spirit shrink below itself  
in a dissembled show of penitence.  Sely. 
Tush, I can bow, as if my joints were oiled,  
and tumble at his feet.  Isa. 
Practise your skill.  Selimus falls at Bajazet's feet. Baja. 
Less show, and more good meaning, Selimus,  
Arise: these crouching feats, give slender proofs  
of inward loyalty.  Sely. 
Right noble Father,  
mine expedition to avenge your cause  
upon the head of proud Achomates,  
be my just trial.  Baja. 
Hast then: May thy arm  
by breathless treason raise up a full joy,  
and turn that monster back unto the earth  
from whence it leapt. A most prodigious birth!  Sely. 
We fly to the performance; who both dare  
and will correct his boldness: now we tread  
the path to honour, and methinks I hear  
the people's Vivat Echo in mine ear.  Exit Selimus with the Bassas. Baja. 
New insolence: The Bassas slipped away!  
How the obsequious villains honour him,  
as if he were their Godhead!  Cherseogles. 
I suspect  
some plotted mischief, else they durst not leave  
your person thus unguarded.  Baja. 
Plot and hang.  
We weigh not all their treasons at a straw,  
one must not rule too long, 'tis subject's law.  Exeunt. Pass over the stage Bassanes and Soldiers carrying Selimus aloft, and crying out, Long live Selimus, Vivat Selimus, Magnificent Emperor of the Turks. Exeunt. Enter Bajazet and Cherseogles. Baja. 
Hell and the furies vex their damned souls.  
What people? Ha! what Nation is't we live in?  
Is't our State and Monarchy? Good gods,  
two Emperors at once! Live Selimus?  
Can slavish vassals thus supplant their Prince?  
What's this enshrines my head? a type for fools  
to flear at, a divided ornament!  
Fail not my sense and courage, let me live  
to find myself again. Viceroy of Greece,  
didst thou not see a Bajazet withdraw  
and vanish hence? tell thou most faithful man,  
what is become of that forgetful name?  
or who hath stole it from me? Selimus!  
Oh that damned villain with his treacherous plot,  
hath robbed me of that glory, Death of sense:  
I have a soul of Adamant or Steel,  
else had that hated noise reft it in twain.  Enter Mesithes. 
What art thou? or whence comest thou?  Mesi. 
From a Prince.  Ba. 
Yet I believe thee.  Mesi. 
From thine enemy.  Ba. 
Yet I believe thee.  Mesith. 
From the Emperor.  Baja. 
And I believe thee still; yet slave, thou liest,  
these parts must know no Emperor but me,  
unless base usurpation hath stepped up  
unto my chair of honour. Right, 'tis so:  
'tis so indeed. Well then, what will your Emperor?  Mesi. 
That by my hand you yield him up his crown.  Baja 
Traitor, his crown? so: now I am resolved.  
I have forgone myself, else had this hand  
tore out thy spottedheart, and that one word  
of yielding, had been cause enough to spoil  
thee and thy generation. Heartless slave,  
why sneakest thou from our presence? stay, behold,  
here▪ commend this gorgeous ornament,  
these trappings to thy Emperor, as full  
bestead with curses as my heart with woes,  
that it my clog his ears, and vex his head  
with daily terrors. Hence thy prince is sped.  Exit Mesithes. 
Viceroy of Greece, to thee our last farewell,  
thou worthiest, truest, best deserving man  
that ever made us happy: if thy faith  
respect me, not my fortune, do this charge,  
fly to Achomates, and rather aid  
him then this faithless Bastard Selimus,  
the scandal of our race, the mark for heaven  
to shoot revenge. But all in vain,  
I strive to word away my inward pain.  Cherseo. 
Nor this, nor that I'll favour; may I speed,  
Bajazet shall live to see both bleed. Exit.  Baja. 
Mask up thy brighthesse's Phoebus; lovely night,  
hurl thy thick mantle over all the heavens,  
let this black day for ever be forgot  
in the eternal registers of time:  
which of you sacred powers are not ashamed  
to see a Prince so sinfully abused  
by his own issue, and unrevenged?  Enter Selimus and Bassanes. 
But stand we, who comes here? a face of brass,  
else would it blush: now, thou Saturnine Jove,  
thou God of great men, thunder, that the world  
drenched all in sin, may shake and fear that noise,  
that horrid scourge of villainies.  Sely. 
Father!  Baja. 
Slave,  
avaunt: I feel a strong Antipathy  
twixt thee and me; thy sight makes my dead heart  
distil fresh drops of blood, and work new smart.  Exit. Sely. 
What, furious Bajazet, and raging hot?  
I hug the amorous pleasure that I feel  
creep through my joints. Observe our Father,  Exeunt Bassanes. 
else by some wilful murder he'll prevent  
my purposed project; I'd not lose the guilt  
of his destruction for a crown: heaven knows  
I love him better than to let him dig  
himself a grave, whilst I may take the pains.  
Now mount my soul, and let my soaring plumes  
brush the smooth surface of the Azure sky.  Crown in his hand. 
With this I charm obeisance from the world:  
thou golden counterfeit of all the heavens;  
see how the shining stars in careless ranks  
grace the composure; and the beauteous Moon  
holds her irregular motion at the height  
of the four poles; this is a complete heaven,  
and thus I wear it. But, methinks, 'tis fixed  
but weakly on my brow, whilst there yet breath  
any whose envy once reflect on it;  
and those are three: the angry Bajazet,  
puling Corcutus, proud Achomates:  
One of these three is cared for, that's Corcutus,  
who, ere the blushing morn salutes the Sun,  
shall be dispatched by two most hideous slaves,  
whom I have bred a purpose to the fact.  
The other rival, wise Achomates,  
I'll bear a side by force of men and arms,  
which ready Mustered, but attend the stroke:  
Then attend our Fathers. Enter Hamon.  
Here's one deals for him,  
shall send him quick to hell. It is decreed,  
he that makes lesser greatness soon shall bleed.  
Hamon draw near, most welcome, my dear Hamon,  
what guess you of your patiented Bajazet?  
Is he all healthful?  Ham. 
No, my gracious prince:  
Neither his body nor his mind is free  
from miserable anguish.  Sely. 
A sad case.  
Hamon I love him, & would rid him from't,  
were I so skilled in naturals as you.  Ham. 
All that my art can work to cure his grief  
shall be applied.  Sely. 
Unapprehending fool:  
I must speak broader. Hamon, is he ill  
in mind and body both?  Ham. 
Exceeding ill.  Sely. 
Then should I think him happier in his death,  
then in so hateful life and so weak breath.  Ham. 
And that's the readier way to cure his ill.  Sely. 
(H'as found me now.) But Hamon, can thy Art  
reach to the cure?  Ham. 
With easy diligence.  Sely. 
Then let it.  Ham. 
I'm yours. Exit Hamon.  Sely. 
Walk, and thy pains  
shall be rewarded highly, with the like  
as thou bestowest on Bajazet: the Court  
makes it a fashion now, first to bring the event  
about, and then hang up the instrument.   

Actus 5. Scena 6.  Enter Cherseogles above disguised like a common Soldier. Cheers. 
Thus Cherseogles hast thou wound thyself  
out of thyself, to act some fearful plot,  
by which the Authors of this public woe  
shall skip into their graves. It is confirmed  
a deed of lawful valour, to defeat  
those of their lives, that robbed the world of peace.  
On this side the false hearted Selimus  
with his confederate Bassas lie encamped,  
just opposite the proud Achomates;  
The Sun now sunk into the Western lap,  
bids either part unlace their warlike helms  
until to morrow light, where both intent  
the hazard of a battle: but you powers,  
that with propitious cares tender the world,  
and us frail mortals, help me to prevent  
a general ruin by the fall of some;  
assist my spirits in a deed of blood,  
cruel, yet honest and austerely good.  
Who? Selimus? as I expected. Enter Selimus.  Sely. 
What?  
A soldier thus licentious in his walks?  
a stranger? Ha! What art thou?  Che. 
A sworn friend, a servant to thy greatness.  Sely. 
Then return  
back into thy ranks and orders, no edict  
from me hath ratified this liberty,  
to scout at random from the standing camp.  Cher. 
'Tis true, my honoured Lord, nor have I dared  
for some poor trivial prey thus to remove  
myself, but for a cause of greater weight,  
the ruin of our enemies.  Sely. 
How's that?  
The ruin of our enemies!  Cher. 
No less;  
The quick fall of great Achomates  
can work it.  Sely. 
Soldier, as thou hop'st to live,  
mock not my thoughts with false and painted tales  
of a supposed stratagem.  Cher. 
I swear—  Sely. 
What wilt thou swear?  Cher. 
By all the heavenly powers  
I speak the truth, and if I fail in aught,  
grind mine accursed body into dust.  Sely. 
Enough, unfold the meaning and the way  
by which this happy project must be wrought.  Cher. 
'Tis thus; at the 12th hour of this black night,  
Achomates I have induced to walk  
forth to this valley weaponed, but unmanned,  
in expectation of your presence there;  
where being met, he'll urge a single fight  
'twixt you and him: after a stroke or two,  
I have engaged myself closely to start  
from ambush, and against you take his part.  Sely. 
Then thou art a traitor.  Cher. 
Worse than a devil, should my heart  
have made that promise with my tongue;  
but heaven bear witness, that my inward thoughts  
labour his welfare only, whom you powers  
have proved most worthy, therefore only yours.  
Meet but this foe, whom I have flattered thus,  
to his destruction; and great Selimus  
shall see my strength employed to offend  
Achomates, and stand thy faithful friend.  Sely. 
Oh wert thou faithful—  Cher. 
If I shrink in aught  
that I profess, death shall strike me to the grave:  
so thrive all falsehood, and each perjured slave.  Sely. 
thoust won our credit, bear a noble mind  
about thee, then to find me forward trust;  
this night when sleep triumphant hath subdued  
her wakeful subjects, and the midnight clock  
sounded full twelve, in this appointed place,  
expect my presence, and till then adieu,  
our next shall be a tragic interview.  Cheers. 
The first is cared for— here a second comes.  Enter Achomates. 
Assist me thou quick issue of Jove's brain,  
and this one night shall make their labours vain.  Acho. 
It shall be so, my fears are too to great,  
to join all in one onset: a strong band  
shall with a circle him the traitor round,  
and intercept the passage of their flight;  
How now? from whence comest thou? what art thou?  Cher. 
A Liegeman to Achomates.  Acho. 
To me?  Cher. 
Yes noble Prince, and one whose life is vowed  
to further your desert, and therefore yours.  Acho. 
We thank you, and pray you leave us.  Cher. 
I can unfold an easy stratagem,  
would crown the hopes of great Achomates.  Acho. 
What means the fellow?  Cher. 
to secure your state  
by Selimus his fall.  Acho. 
What is't thou breathest?  
speak it again, for many careful thoughts  
possess my Soul, that every blessed voice  
steals in the passage twixt my ear and haste.  
By Selimus his fall, to secure my state?  Cherse. 
I can.  
Achom. Delude me not, and I will rain  
such an unmeasured plenty in thy lap,  
heap such continual honours on thy head  
that thou shalt shrink, and stagger with the weight.  Cher. 
Judge of the means: This night I have induced  
young Selimus to walk forth in this grove,  
at the twelfth hour, in hope to meet you here;  
where having urged a combat and both met  
in eager conflict, I have pawned my vow  
to rush from yonder thicket, and with him  
join against you.  Acho. 
Villain!  Cher. 
And Devil, had  
my heart made promise with my tongue;  
but heaven bears witness that my soul affects  
none but Achomates. Try but my faith,  
and meet this foe, whom I have baited thus  
with golden hopes, and you will find my deed  
(in your defence) all promise shall exceed.  Acho. 
I'm resolved, soldier; when day is past  
and the full fancies of mortality  
busy in dreams and playing visions,  
at the sad melancholy hour of twelve,  
I'll meet thee in this plain.  Cher. 
And you shall find  
me here before you.  Achom. 
Be so; who denies  
to strike in time, can seldom hope to rise. Exit.  Cher 
These two will meet, and I must take doth parts,  
Now for a trick to send them both to hell  
in the full growth of expectation;  
Heavens know they have deserved it; then 'twould be  
an happy murder: and behold the men Enter Bassas.  
whom I have decreed should do it. Once again  
I must betake me to my former note;  
Health to the friends of our great Emperor,  
the three strong pillars that uphold true worth.  Isa. 
Sir, your intrusion is unseasonable.  Must. 
And your salute, impardonably bold.  Che. 
Perhaps the news I bring, may frame excuse  
for both these faults.  Mesi. 
Speak out thy mind in brief.  Cher. 
Then thus: to night here present on this plain,  
you may encounter two fierce enemies,  
Achomates, and Cherseogles both  
at the full stroke of twelve.  Isa. 
How (Mesithes) we're blessed!  Must. 
This night at twelve of the clock?  Cher. 
Upon my life—  Omnes 
What shall we do?  Cher. 
But meet me on this plain  
at the appointed hour, and I will place  
you three aside, from whence you shall oppress  
your foes at unawares.  Mesi. 
Is it a match?  Isa. 
'Tis done, at twelve a clock.  Must. 
See thou prove faithful.  Cher. 
If I shrink in aught  
that I profess, death strike me to the grave:  
So thrive all falsehood & each perjured slave.  Exeunt Bassanes. 
How easily base minds are drawn to strike  
their foes at least advantage!— Beauteous moon,  
pale witness to a thousand deeds of sin,  
veil up thy light, that darkness may help on  
these black stratagems, and unhallowed hands  
strike in mistaken bodies, even the soul  
themselves adore, and cheerfully defend.  
But time grows fast upon me, hit all right,  
two Princes, and three Bassas die this night.   

Actus 5. Scena 7.  Enter Corcutus with his Lute. Cor. 
Heaven, whither run these projects? is the thought  
of man so senseless, void of wit, yet fraught  
with threatening ambition? to what end  
doth this distempered madness headlong bend?  
Bless me, my Genius, from these hated toils  
of murdering warfare, and these sweeting broils  
of watchful policy; Phoebus, let it be  
that I may know no other god but thee.  
Learned experience says, ambiguous fates  
vex eminent fortunes, and he only stands  
without the beams of envy, whom the hands  
of some propitious power hath ranked below  
those short delights that troubled thoughts do know:  
A Crown's a golden mark, which being hit,  
falls not alone, but oft the head with it:  
honours are smoky nothings; then let the Queen  
of learning, great Minerva, and the nine  
chaste sisters, that adorn the Grecian hill  
devote me to themselves; but let me still  
within Apollo's sacred Temple sit,  
and spend my body to increase my wit;  
Reign Selimus, for I shall ne'er thee hate,  
thy supreme power, nor envy thy state:  
Corcutus stands divorced from a life  
engaged to vain ambition, factious strife,  
and empty power of Kings. he's great in fame,  
not who seeks after, but neglects the same.  
Since thou hast grieved me Phoebus, free my wit,  
that I may ease my grief by speaking it;  
if thou deniest, fond god, 'twill be in vain,  
sorrow can sing, though thou not tune the strain.  Sings to his Lute. 

Then thou sweet Muse, from whence there flows  
words able to express our ill,  
Teach me to warble out my woes,  
and with a sigh each accent fill:  
Infuse my breast with doleful strains,  
Whose heavy note may speak my pains.  
O let me sigh, and sighing weep,  
Till night deprives my woes with sleep.   

The pleasing murmurs of the air,  
that gently fan each moving thing,  
I having heard, strait do repair,  
and bear a burden, whilst I sing  
An heavy burden, doleful song,  
The father's grief, the subjects wrong.  
O let me sigh, and sighing weep,  
Till night beguiles my woes with sleep.   

The grieved Flora hangs the head  
of every youthful plant and tree,  
And flowery pleasures are stark dead  
at my lamenting melody;  
Then all you Muses help my strain,  
To reach the depth of bitter pain.  
Oh let me sigh, and sighing weep,  
Till night beguiles my woes with sleep.   

Me thinks I hear the singing spheres  
tune their melodious strains to mine,  
The dewy clouds dissolve in tears,  
as if they grieved to see me pine;  
Thus each thing joins to see my moan,  
Thus seldom come true sighs alone.  
Then let me sigh, and sighing weep,  
Till night beguile my woes with sleep.   He sleeps: Then enter two murderers who slaying him, bear him away. Exeunt.  

Actus 5. Scena 8.  Enter Cherseogles. Cher. 
A dark and heavy night, as if the gods  
winked at our projects, and had clad the heavens  
in a propitious black, to bless my plot!  
Revenge, to thee I dedicate this work;  
and I will pamper thy wild appetite  
with blood and murder, thy dull, slow-paced feet  
shall caper to behold our fearful scenes  
drenched in a scarlet Ocean.  
'tis full twelve—  
I hear a quiet footpace, and it beats  
directly towards. 'Tis Selimus,  
joy of expectation. Enter Selimus.  Sely. 
Thou Queen of shades,  
bright Cynthia, and you starry lamps of heaven,  
what sphere hath told you? oh y'are envious all,  
and therefore hate to grace the time, in which  
I ruinated my latest foe: this is the sand  
on which I am to wrestle for a Crown,  
and I am entered full of greedy lust,  
to meet my adverse champion; here's my god  
whom I adore with greater confidence  
than all those beauties, Sun, or Moon, or Stars,  
that with malicious absence have disrobed  
this gracious hour of it's due respect.  
Oh thou the silent darkness of the night,  
arm me with desperate courage and contempt  
of gods-loved men: now I applaud the guile  
of our brave roarers, which select this time  
to drink and swagger, and spurn at all the powers  
of either world. Blessed mortals, had that mother  
strangled her other infant, white faced day,  
and brought forth only night! my limbs are stiff,  
and I must bathe them in my brother's blood;  
I'll steep this grass in a red purple gore,  
scatter the carcase piecemeal, and that done,  
I'll rear a lasting monument, I'll sign  
a trophy, which inscribed, shall speak my deeds  
to after ages, that's my chief intent:  
he's coldly praised that's written innocent.  
Whose there? my soldier?  Che. 
Soldier and slave, great Prince at your command.  Sely. 
I will ennoble thee, place thee my second self  
in all my power for thy rare faith.  
Where's our Achomates?  Cher. 
I heard one softly tract full hitherwards,  
and think 'tis he; 'tis needful that I meet him,  
and give some proof that I continue his,  
else jealous of my faith, he will return,  
and we be both deluded; when y'are met,  
parley before you fight, till I prepare  
myself to run upon him unaware.  
Mean while I'll go to meet him. Exit.  Sely. 
Go make haste.  
But if this base rascal should deceive  
my trust! a trifle— my nerves are plumped up,  
and filled with vigour, strong enough to fright  
a million of such big backed, drowsy slaves;  
I hear them both approach.  Enter Cherseogles and Achomates. Cher. 
See where he stands, I shall not be slow  
to second your encounter; being met,  
parley before you fight, till I prepare  
myself to run upon him unaware,  
mean while I'll withdraw— now for my Bassas.  Exit Acho. 
A time of dismal blackness, and my soul  
is dull and heavy, as if envious night  
strived to subdue my fatal watchfulness.  
But I have rushed upon my foe: whose there?  Sely. 
Answer thy Prince first; I say, what art thou?  Acho. 
He that usurps, hath title of a villain.  Sely. 
But he that wears it is a Saint, and such am I  Acho. 
thou'rt a treacherous slave.  Sely. 
Achomates thou liest, this night shall prove  
I shrink not to unmask what I have done.  Acho. 
Oh heavens, so impudently bad!  Sely. 
Good brother, we know your virtues, one that  
gains country, gods, and men;  
slew an Ambassador, which here we must revenge.  Acho. 
Hark in thine ear,  
I'll whisper forth thy mischiefs, lest the heavens  
should tear and snatch them hence from my revenge,  
in greediness of wrath— They whisper.  Enter Cherseogles, Isaac▪ Mesithes, Mustapha. Cher. 
See where they stand.  Isaac. 
Achomates and Cherseogles?  Cher. 
Both:  
They are two; we sour let's run upon them;  
'Tis very dark, be certain in your aim,  
and all strike home.  Omnes. 
A match.  Mesi. 
Isaac and I will take the nearest.  Musta. 
And we the other.  Cher. 
Strike home, and sure, and here's at them.  Stab him. Sely. 
I have the Crown, and I will,— Oh, oh, oh!  stab him. Acho. 
Oh, o o, O villain, I am slain. uterque morit.  Cher. 
It is not Cherseogles we have slain.  Isa. 
Not Cherseogles, villain! whom then? speak.  They confer. Cher. 
Achomates and Selimus.  Isa. 
Ha!  Cher. 
None other.  Isa. 
Hast thou betrayed us so?  Cher. 
Be silent, hear me.  
There lie the Captains of both Armies dead,  
breathless: and you so stupid to neglect  
the use of opportunities!  Isa. 
What use?  Cher. 
Are you not rich, wealthy in powerful gold?  
go whilst the Soldiers lie thus destitute  
of any Leader, frankly bribe both parts,  
buy their unsettled love at any rate,  
and creep into their bosom; then in this  
dead want and dearth of Princes, they will cleave  
to Isaac, and at length salute—  Isa. 
Me Emperor?  Cher. 
You apprehend it right.  Isa. 
What blessed angel art thou?  Cher. 
'Tis no time for idle compliments.  Isa. 
Thy counsel's good.  
I would not let slip this sweet occasion,  
for all the precious plenty of the world.  
come let's away.  Cher. 
First make some quick dispatch with these now rivals.  Isa. 
True, they'll not endure my Sovereignty.  
Hast no sudden wits how to remove them both?  Cher. 
No wile but strength; are not we two?  
They are no more; we must encounter them, 'tis man to man:  
the match no whit unequal.  Isa. 
I am thine:  
I hate to have copartners in my state:  
There shall not breathe a man whose envious eye  
dares look a squint on my dread Majesty.  Mesi. 
They that bring news first, are still most welcome.  Musta. 
Experience speaks it true.  Mes. 
Let us haste. Now Selimus, we come to gratulate.  Isaac. 
Stay—  Cherseo. 
Stand.  Mes. 
How?  Mustaph. 
What means this?  Isaac. 
Fate to your lives.  They fight, Isaac is slain. Musta. 
Sweet do!  Isaac. 
'Tis no less Sir, witness this,  
traitor I'm slain. Moritur.  Cherseog. 
Cross fortune, wicked chance:  
but I must make the best of it. Is he dead?  Mes. 
Villain he is, and thy bad turn is next:  
what devil did incite thee, to incite  
Isaac 'gainst friends? Injurious slave.  Must. 
Urge him to no confession till the rack  
force from his closest thought unwilling truth,  
He shall be doomed for this notorious fact  
unto continual pains,  
hunger, oppression, want and slavery.  Mes. 
That struck me full.— Have at thee:  
hold thou art victor I have met the price  
of treason, death; and as I hoped to rise  
by blood, I fall, so have I missed my scope,  
delusion is the end of lawless hope. Moritur  Cherse. 
Mesithes stay one moment, art thou gone?  
I am not far behind I feel the blood  
by slow degrees ebb from my fainting breast,  
I am heart struck, and wounded even to death,  
a Scene of slaughter this!— O just heavens!  
still I plighted faith to each of these,  
I wished that if I failed in one, I vowed  
death should thus strike me. I have gained my wish,  
Than you imperial Fates that intercept  
the brittle courses of frail mortality,  
continue this firm justice, and enact  
a constant law that all false meaning hearts  
that think of oaths as of a puff of wind,  
may as I do, thus sink into the grave,  
my dying wish, so thrive each perjured knave.  Moritur. Enter Soldiers. Soul. 1 
The night overblown, and five a clock!  
I wonder at their absence; what are these?  
our Generals murdered, our dear Selimus,  
with his three Bassas, and Achomates!  
Whose bloody hand is guilty of this fact?  Soul. 2. 
A trembling shakes me, 'twas some power  
that frowned at our proceed.  Soul. 3. 
Bajazet is new borne to his Sovereignty.  Soul. 4. 
Let's take their bodies, bear them hence in  
unto their greatness, and advise the foe  
of their slain General, stern Achomates:  
sound peaceful rumours; we must resubmit.  
to Bajazet, so heaven hath thought it fit. Exeunt.   

Actus 5. Scene 9  Enter Bajazet and Haman with a book and candle. Baja. 
Set down the book and candle, go and provide  
the Potion to prevent my Fever-fit,  
till when I mean to study: go make haste.  Exit Haman 
Fortune, I thank thee, thou'rt a gracious Whore,  
thy happy anger hath immured a prince  
within the walls of base security.  
Farewell thou swelling sea of Government,  
on whose bright crystal bosom floats along  
the graveled vessel of proud Majesty.  
Ambition empty all thy bag of breath,  
send forth thy blast among the quiet waves,  
and work huge tempests to confound the Art  
of the Pilat Pilate Selimus.  
Treason and envy like two bickering winds,  
shake the unsettled fabric of his State,  
that from my study windows I may laugh,  
to see his broken fortune swallowed up  
in the quicksands of danger, and the sail  
puffed with the calm breath of a flattering chance,  
by furious whirlwinds rended into rags,  
and piecemeal scattered through the Ocean:  
But peace my chiding spirit; come thou man  Takes the book. 
of rare instinct, blessed Author of a book  
worthy the studies of a reading God:  
thou dost present before my wearied eyes,  
Tiberius sweeting in his policies,  
dull Claudius gauged by dull flattery,  
Nero unboweling Nobility,  
Galba undone by servants hardly good,  
Otho o'erwhelmed in love, and drenched in blood,  
Vitellius sleeping in the chair of State,  
Vespasian called to government by Fate:  
still as my Muse doth travel o'er their age,  
a Prince's care is writ in every Page.  
Thus I unfold the volume of thy writ,  
the chiefest solace of my moving wit,  
Caedes eo fuit nobilior, quia filius He reads  
Patrem interfecit. Tacit. Hist. lib. 20.  
Avaunt thou damned wizard, did thy god  
Apollo teach thee to divine my fall?  
What hath thy cursed Genius tract my steps  
through the Meanders of dark privacy?  
and will he dwell with me in these close shades  
to vex my banished soul, banished from joy,  
removed from the world's eye? I am accursed,  
and hated by the Synod of the gods,  
a knot of envious deceits: the day will be  
when they shall smart for this indignity.  Enter solemn Music, the Ghost of Mahomates, Zemes, Trizham, Mahomet, Achmetes, Caigubus, Asmehemides, with each a sword and burning Tapers, led in by Nemesis with a sword, they encompass Bajazet in his bed. Nem. 
Triumph my Plaintiffs, Nemesis your Queen  
is pierced quite through with your continual groans.  
See, see, the prostrate body of a King,  
clad in the weeds of pining discontent,  
lieth open to your wrath, and doleful hate:  
But I conjure you not to touch his skin,  
nor hurt his sacred person, those three Fates  
(those frightful sisters) told me they decree  
for Bajazet another destiny:  
But vex his soul with your deluding blows,  
and let him dream of direful anguishments,  
each in the proper order of his Fate,  
vent the compressed confusion of his hate  One after another strike at Bajazet with their swords, Nemesis puts by their blows. Exeunt in a solemn dance. Neme. 
Awake, awake thou tortured Emperor,  
look with the eye of fury on the heavens,  
threaten a downfall to this mortal stage,  
and let it crack with thee; thy life is run  
to the last Scene, thy Tragic part is done. Exit.  Bajazet awakes in fury; ariseth. 
You meager devils, and infernal hags,  
where are you? Ha! what, vanished? am I found?  
Did I not feel them tear and rack my flesh,  
and scramble it amongst them? Heaven and earth,  
I am deluded; what thin airy shapes  
durst fright my soul? I'll hunt about the world,  
search the remotest angles of the earth,  
till I've found out the climate holds these fiends,  
or build a bridge by Geometric skill,  
whom lineal extension shall reach forth  
to the declining borders of the sky,  
on which I'll lead mortality along,  
and break a passage through the brazen walls,  
from whence Jove triumphs o'er this lower world:  
then having got beyond the utmost sphere,  
besiege the concave of this universe,  
and hunger-starve the gods till they confess  
what furies did my sleeping soul oppress.  
Ha! did it lighten? or what nimble flame  
has crept into my blood? me thinks it steals  
through my distempered joints, as if it feared  
to urge me to impatience.  
Hamon, accursed Hamon; stand my soul  
above the power of these envenomed drugs:  
Am I in hell alive? the Stygian flames  
could not produce an heat so violent  
as burns within my body: Oh I feel  
my heart drop into cinders, I am dust;  
Jove, for thine own sake Jove, confine my soul  
within these walls of earth: for in the sky  
when I am there, none shall be Jove but I.  
Still, still I boil, and the continued flames  
are aggravated: He is done, subdued  
(by the base Art of a damned Empiric)  
whose empty name sent terror through the world:  
Is not the heaven bespangled all with stars,  
and blazing Meteors, whose bright glimmering flames,  
like ceremonial Tapers should adorn  
my solemn Hearse? what, doth the golden Sun  
ride with it's wont motion? are the waves  
bridled within their narrow Continent?  
No deluge? not an earthquake? shall a Prince,  
an Emperor, a Bajazet decease  
and make no breach in nature? fright the world  
with no prodigious birth? Are you asleep,  
you thundering Beggars that so awe the world?  
I'll hasten to revenge this strong neglect  
of my deceasing spirits: mount my soul,  
brush off this cloddy heavy element:  
So Jove I come, excorporate, divine,  
immortal as thyself, I must contest  
with thee, proud god, with thee to arm my mind,  
only my soul ascends, earth stays behind. Moritur.  Enter the Ghosts as before, and bear him out.  

Actus 5. Scena 10.  Enter Soliman as newly Crowned. Soldiers, Attendants, warlike Music. Soly. 
Is Selimus deceased?  Sould. 
He is my Lord.  Soly. 
Who Selimus? what Fate durst be so bold:  
Oh, I could act an holy frenzy now.  
Selimus deceased? What did not Atlus tremble  
at such a burden? Can he support the Orb  
that holds up Selimus? is not yet the Pole  
cracked with his weight? do not the heavens prepare  
his funeral Exequys? Jove, I invoke thee now,  
command the heavens that the prone Chandler shops  
command that idle Phoebus, that he exhale  
matter from earth to make thy Funeral Tapers:  
Or I'll make Torches of the universe  
in stead of Comets; flaming Countries, Cities  
shall be thy ceremonial Tapers:  
Or if not this; I'll ransack Christendom,  
King's Daughters I'll embowel for a Sacrifice,  
their fat with vestal fire will I refine,  
and offer virgins wax unto thy shrine.  
Start back bright Phoebus, let thy fiery Steeds  
keep Holiday for Selimus. Tell thy host,  
proud Neptune now expects another deluge,  
that all the earth may weep for Selimus.  
What do you smile, you heavens? are ye conscious,  
and guilty of this execrable treason?  
What, dare the fields to laugh to when I do mourn?  
I'll dye your motley coloured weeds in scarlet,  
and clothe the world in black destruction.  
Nemesis, I'll nail thee to my greedy sword,  
destruction shall serve under me a Prenticeship.  
Courage brave Selimus, with thy Princely boat  
through Styx even all mortality shall float;  
I'll levy Soldiers through the Universe,  
with which thou shalt begird Elysium;  
Thus barren Nature shall repent thy fall,  
grieving that she did not the event forestall.  
Death, I will hate thee: the world shall wear  
thy sable livery embroidered with fear:  
Thy Trophies every where the world shall gaze on:  
Thy Arms in sable and in gules I'll blazon.  Soul. 
My Lord, this Crown entreats, you leave off these  
ground-creeping meditations, and to think  
of Majesty; wherefore we invest your brow  
with this rich robe of glory, and do vow  
to it our due allegiance: thus you shall  
mount up aloft above your Father's fall.  Soly. 
Thus our dear Father, those bright robes of state  
for which so lately thou hast sweat in blood,  
thou wear'st upon my shoulders in thy stead:  
thus are we crowned, and thus our labours be  
made gainful unto thine, though not to thee.  Sould. 
Live then, and reign, most mighty Emperor,  
whilst that our care and watchful providence  
shall fence thy safety, and keep Sentinel  
over thy sacred person; were black treasons  
hatched in the Centre of the darkest earth,  
the massy element should be prospective  
for all our piercing eyes; should Pluto send  
his black Apparator to summon thee  
to appear before him, by that Mahomet,  
we would confront him boldly, and excuse  
thy absence unto Pluto, by our presence;  
death, we'll disarm thee, if thou darest arrest  
thy fury on our Soliman; or we'll bale his person  
with our imprisonment.  
By our death thou shalt live; our City walls  
may with warlike ruin be battered,  
but our allegiance, that European Bull  
shall ne'er push from us with his golden horns;  
nor shall his guilded showers quench our loves:  
no golden Engineer shall undermine  
the Castles of our faith, nor blow them up  
with blasts of hoped preferment: were thy walls  
but paper, were they made of brittle glass,  
our faiths should make them marble, and as firm  
as Adamant: Not walls, but subjects love,  
do to a Prince the strongest Castle prove.  
Behold great Prince, allegiance mixed with love  
locked in our breasts: thou art the living key  
to shut, and to unlock them at thy pleasure:  
no golden picklock shall e'er screw itself  
into these faithful locks, whose only springs  
can be no other than our own heart strings.  
Our greedy swords, which erst imbrued in blood,  
did seem to blush at their own Master's acts,  
and us upbraid with our most bloody facts,  
though peace hath now condemned to pleasing rust,  
yet at thy beck we'll sheathe them in the breast  
of daring Christians: thus in war we'll fight  
for thee, whilst thou dost strive for victory.  
Here to describe such Princely virtues, which  
should more adorn thy Crown then Orient pearls,  
were but to show a glass, and to commend  
thyself unto thyself. Be gracious,  
magnificent, courageous, or mild,  
or more compendiously, be more thyself,  
reign then, and Mahomet grant that thou may'st pass  
Nestor in years, as much as now thou dost  
in wisdom and in valour; Herald proclaim  
to the world his title, and let swift-winged Fame  
second thy trumpet. Her. Long live Soliman, etc.  Solym. 
We thank you friendly Actors of our bliss,  
our patience hath at length tired out the gods;  
our Empire hath been racked enough with treasons,  
and black seditions, as if no Christians  
were left to conquer; we wield our Turkish blades  
against ourselves, emboweling the State  
with bloody discord, by our strength we fall  
a scorn to Christians, with our hands we shed  
that blood which might have conquered Christendom;  
thus while we hate ourselves, we love our enemies,  
and heal them with our sores, whilst we lie weltering  
in bloody peace: the die of the public safety  
hath been already cast by th'hand of war,  
treasons have made a blot, which may provoke  
the enemy to enter, and bear our men  
to dark Avernus. Envy might have blushed,  
though always pale, at all our projects: now  
this bloody deluge is quite past, return  
sweet peace with th'Olive branch, enough of wars,  
'tis thou must pour oil into our scars.  
Fly hence Hereditary hate, discords dead,  
let not succeeding enmities and hatred live,  
let none presume to cover private sores  
with public ruins, nor let black discord  
make an Anatomy of our too lean  
Empire, let it wax fat again; when peace  
hath knit herknots, then shall the wanton sounds  
of bells give place to thundering Bombards,  
and blood wash out the smoothing oil of peace;  
every Soldier I'll ordain a Priest  
to ring a fatal knell to Christians,  
and every minute unto earth's wide womb  
shall sacrifice a Christians Hecatomb:  
Then shall we make a league with Aeolus,  
the winds shall strive to further our proceed,  
then will we load the seas, and fetter Neptune  
with chains that hold our Anchors; he shall quake,  
lest he to Pan resign his watery Empire,  
and three forked-mace unto my awful Sceptre;  
The Whales and Dolphins shall amazed stand,  
that they shall yield their place to Bears and Lions,  
Sylla shall howl for fear, when she shall see  
the Sea become a Forest, and herself  
mountainy; then let Sirens quake  
for fear of Satyrs, then let the Christians think,  
not that our Navy, but the Country itself  
is come to move them from the growing earth;  
Comets, fiery swords shall be my Heralds,  
threatening to th'world sudden combustion:  
Let our arms be steely bows, our arrows  
thunderbolts, and in stead of warlike Drums,  
thunder shall proclaim black destruction;  
Vulcan I'll tax thee, exercise thy Forge,  
prepare to me for all the world a scourge,  
the Fates to me their powers shall resign,  
which with this hand will rend twine strongest twine  
of humane breath. First for the Isle of Rhodes,  
destruction there shall keep his mournful Stage:  
Th'inhabitants shall act a bloody Tragedy,  
and personate themselves; Then for Nayos I'll,  
death there shall keep her Court: then I will make  
Vienna all a Shambles: yea gaping Famine  
ever devouring, always wanting food,  
shall gnaw their bowels, and shall leave them nothing,  
besides themselves to feed on; their dead corpse  
shall be entombed in their neighbour's bellies.  
There, every one shall be a living Sepulchre,  
an unhallowed Churchyard; famine shall feed itself.  
Then shall they envy beasts, and wish to be  
our Jades, our Mules; Matrons shall strive to bring  
into the hateful light abortive Brats;  
the Infants shall return, and the lean womb  
shall be unto the babes a sudden tomb.  
Then shall they hoard up carcases, and strive  
only to be rich in Funerals; I'd rejoice  
to see them stand like Screech-owls, gaping when  
their Parents should expire, and bequeath  
to hell their wretched souls, to them their death.  All. 
Long live great Soliman our noble Emperor.  Soly. 
All this, and more than this I'll do, when peace  
hath glutted our new greedy appetites,  
when it hath filled the veins of the Empire full  
with vigour; then, lest too much blood should cause  
Armies of vices, not of men to kill us,  
and strength breed weakness in our too great Empire,  
then, then, and only then we shall think good,  
with war to let the body politic blood.  
Mean time we'll think on our Father's Funeral:  
Oh, I could be an holy Epicure,  
in tears, and pleasing sighs, Oh I could now  
refresh myself with sorrow, I could embalm  
thy corpse with holy groans from putrefaction:  
Oh, I could powder up thy thirsty corpse  
with brinish tears, and wipe them off with kisses:  
and that I might more freely speak my grief,  
these eyes should be still silent Orators,  
till blindness shuts them up, were I a woman:  
But I am Soliman, Emperor, the Turk,  
blood shall be my tears, I'll think thee slain  
amongst the Christians, and translate my grief  
to fury; every member of my body  
shall execute the office of a weeping son.  
Thus in my tears an Argus will I be,  
my head, heart, hands, and all shall weep for thee.  
Oh that the cruel Fates were half so mild  
as to drive streams of tears from forth the springs,  
great sorrows have no leisure to complain;  
Lest ills vent forth; great griefs within remain:  
See Selimus, sometimes a four-stringed instrument  
feeding his Soldiers with sweet Harmony,  
doth now tune nought to us but Lacrymae.  
Can not Aeschulapiùs be found to tune  
his disagreeing elements? treasons cracked  
the string; which else an headache would untune.  
Every disease is a ragged fort  
to wear these strings asunder; treason did lend  
death, which both age, and sickness did intent;  
What then remains, but that his Funeral rites  
with our Grand fathers, Uncles be solemnised,  
that so black discord may be with them buried?  
But noble Selimus, what Tomb shall I prepare  
for thy memorial? shall a heavy stone  
press thy innocent ashes? Shall I confine  
thy wand'ring ghost in some high marble prison?  
Or shall I hither fetch the flying Tomb  
of proud Mausolus the rich Carian King?  
No; Religion shall cloak no such injury;  
no hired Rhetoric shall adorn thy coarse,  
no prattling stone shall trumpet forth thy praise;  
the world's thy tomb, thy Epitaph I'll carve  
in Funerals; destruction is the book  
in which we'll write thy annals, blood's the Ink,  
our sword the Pen. A Tragedy I intent,  
Which with a Plangity, no Plaudity shall end▪    
FINIS.   

THE COURAGEOUS TURK, OR, AMURATH THE FIRST.  
A Tragedy, Written by THOMAS GOFF Master of Arts, and student of Christ-Church in OXFORD, and Acted by the Students of the same house.  
The second Edition  
LONDON, Printed for G. BEDELL and T. COLLINS, at the middle Temple Gate Fleetstreet. 1656.   

TO THE No less honoured, then deserving, Sir WALTER TICHBORNE, Knight.  
SIR,  
THis with another Tragedy, entitled, The raging Turk, the issue of one man's brain; are now come forth together from the Press, nearer allied, even as Twins in this their second birth; They are full of Glory, Strength, and indeed full of what not, that beautifies? The more apt to be soiled, opposed, and disgraced; the rather, because the Author has made his Exit hence. The intent, and use of Dedication (as I have observed) is to no other end, than that ignorance and spite, (sworn Enemies to ingenuity) should know upon their dull or envious dislikes, whether to repair and receive reformation. The Fatherless fellow-Orphan to this work resteth safe under the protection of your most noble Brother, my much honoured Friend, Sir Richard Tichborne, Knight and Baronet; Now for these reasons, and that I might not make them strangers by remote foster, but especially standing to you (most worthy SIR) equally engaged, I this to you Present and Dedicate: Together tendering the Love and unfeigned acknowledgements, of  
Your most embounden Servant, RICHARD MEIGHEN.   

TO THE AUTHOR, In that, Transcribing his Book, without his knowledge, I was bound by promise to stand to his pleasure to keep it or burn it.  
I Will not praise this Work, 'twere lost,  
Rich Pearls best praise themselves; nor will I boast  
To be possessed of more than India's wealth,  
That were the way to loseed, since I myself  
Distrust myself in keeping it, and stand  
In fear of robbing by some envious hand:  
Robbed of it, said I? Alas, that fate were just,  
Since I am found first thief to you, who durst  
Unbidden thus, ransack your precious store;  
This magazine of wit, so choice; nay more,  
Steal from the chariot of the glorious Sun,  
This heavenly fire. What shall I say, 'tis done;  
I do confess the indictment, pity then  
Must be my surest Advocate 'mongst men.  
None can abate the rigour of the Law,  
But the Lawgiver; but me thoughts I saw,  
(Or hoped I saw) some watery beams of Mercy  
Break, glimpsing forth of your imperious eye.  
O let me beg reprieve, your pardon may  
By due observance come another day.  
Here lo, I tendered bacl to bide the doom,  
By promise bound to him, to him with whom  
I would not break for all rich Tagus sands;  
Now he the Prisoner at your mercy stands.  
— Ergo ibit in ignes  
Hoc opus aeternum ruet, & tot bella, tot Enses  
In Cineres dabit hora nocens.—   

THE PROLOGUE.  
Were not our present subject mixed with fear,  
'Twould much affright us to see all you here.  
One would suffice us, or no Auditor.  
Each to himself an ample Theatre,  
Let rude Plebeians think so, but we know  
All judgements here from the same Spring do flow;  
All here have but one censure, all one breast,  
All sons of the same Mother; but the rest  
We preoccupate their Censure, and foretell,  
What after may be said not to be well.  
As in most decent Garments you may see.  
Some gracious Ornaments inweaved be;  
Which serve for little use; but on some day  
Destined to please himself, the wearer may  
Without a blush put on, when his best friends  
Intent to visit him. So our hope intends  
The sacred Muse's Progeny to greet,  
Which under our Roof, now the third time meet.  
We will not open the book to you, and show  
A story word by word, as it doth go;  
But give invention leave to undertake,  
Of it's own strains, some benefit to make:  
For though a Tragic Pen may be confined  
W thin a studies private Walls, the mind  
Must be unbounded, and with inventions steel,  
Strike fire from the alien Flints—  
So free we are from setting any price  
On these our studied Vanities, that advice  
Almost disdained the whispers of those tongues  
Which, private first, though vented, public wrongs  
To the Patient, Patient oft. We'll here begin  
To be a little peremptory. Oh that sin  
Of wilful indiscretion; 'tis no bays  
To make us Garlands of our own mouths praise.  
Which who affect, may they so Laurel lacke,  
That slanders Thunders may behind their back  
Blast them with Calumny; for we vow, they dear  
Pay for their pains, that give attention here.  
And since it's suffered with kind indulgence,  
We hope that Kingly Parent's our defence;  
Who would not have his dandling love be known,  
But unto those had offspring of their own.  
And (for we are assured that here be  
No brains so cursed with black sterility,  
But of some nature they can freely call  
Births more mature, and Celestial;  
Their study's issue) they, like kindest Mothers,  
With tender hands will swath the limbs of others.   

THE ARGUMENT.  
A Supposed Victory by AMURE  
Obtained in Greece, where many captives ta'en,  
One among the rest, IRENE, conquers him,  
For, taken with her love, he sounds retreat  
Eternally from War: but after, moved  
With murmur of his Nobles, in her bed,  
Before his Councils face, strikes off her head.  
Then ruminating former bloody broils,  
He strait o'ercomes all Christian Provinces,  
Invades the Confines of his Son in Law,  
Fires Caramania, and makes Aladin  
With's Wife and Children suppliant for their lives:  
At length appointed his greatest Field to fight  
Upon Cassanae's Plains; where having got  
A wondrous Conquest 'gainst the Christians,  
Comes the next morn to overview the dead;  
'Mongst whom a Christian Captain, Cobelitz,  
Lying wounded there, at sight of Amurath,  
Rising and staggering towards him, desperately  
With a short dagger wounds him to the heart,  
And then immediately the Christian dies.  
The Turk expiring, Bajazet his Heir  
Strangles his younger brother: Thus still springs  
The Tragic sport which Fortune makes with Kings.   

THE ACTORS.  

Amurath.  
Lala Schahin.— Tutor to Amurath.  
two Turkish Captains. 

Eurenoses,  
Chase Illibegge.    
Cobelitz a Christian Captain.  
Lazarus the Despot or Governor of Servia.  
Sasmenos Governor of Bulgaria.  
Aladin Son in Law to Amurath: and King of Caramania.  
Two Lords with Aladin.  
Two Ambassadors.  
Bajazet, Eldest Son to Amurath.  
Jacyl, Youngest Son to Amurath.  
Carradin Bassa A Governor under the Turk.  
For the Mask. 

Jupiter  
Juno  
Mars  
Venus  
Hector  
Achil  
Apollo  
Pallas  
Alexander  
Philoxenus  
Neptune  
Cupid    
Women Actors. 

Eumorphe, Concubine to Amurath.  
Menthe, An attendant on Eumorphe.  
Hatun, Daughter to the Lord of Phrygia, married to Bajazet.  
Aldine's Wife, Two little Boys with her.    
Mutes. 

Men Christians taken, given to Amurath for Janissaries.  
Six Christian Maidens presented to Hatun supposed to be King's Daughters.      

THE COURAGEOUS TURK, OR, AMURATH THE FIRST.  

Actus 1.  

Scena 1.  Enter as from War, Lala-Schahin at one door, with warlike Music, Soldiers, a March. Enter to him at the other door, Amurath in State, with Eumorphe his Concubine, attendants, Lords and Ladies. AMURATH. 
BE dumb those now harsh notes, our softer cares  
shall never be acquainted with such sounds.  
Peace (our grand Captain) see here Amurath,  
that would have once confronted Mars himself,  
(Acknowledged for a better Deity)  
Puts off ambitious burdens; and doth hate  
through bloody Rivers to make passages,  
whereby his Soul might float to Acheron.  
Wrinkle your brows no more (stern fates) for we  
scorn to be made the servile Ministers  
to cut those threads, at which yourselves have trembled,  
esteeming us the fiercer Destiny.  
Yet must great Amurath thank those sacred powers,  
they have enriched our souls with such a price,  
as had those Heroes, whose revengeful Arms  
served Mars a ten year's Prenticeship at Troy,  
ere dreamed succeeding times should be possessed  
with such an unparallelled, unprized beauty as my Saint,  
they would not have prevented so their bliss,  
but been most humble Suitors to the Gods  
to have protracted their then fond spent life  
but to behold this object; which outshines  
their Helena, as much as doth the eye  
of all the World dazzle the lesser fires.  
Jove, I'll outbrave thee; melt thyself in Lust,  
embrace at once all star-made Concubines,  
I'll not envy thee, know I have to spare  
beauty enough, to make another Venus;  
And for fond Gods, that have no reward in store  
to make me happier, here I'll place my Heaven.  
And for thy sake, this shall my Motto be,  
I conquered Greece, one Grecian conquered me.  Eum. 
But (gracious Lord) those streams (we see) soon ebb,  
which with outrageous swelling flow too fast;  
forbidden (Lucina) this soon kindled fire,  
should ere burn out itself. 'tis a true Theme,  
That ne'er lasts long, that seemeth most extreme.  Amur. 
Can this rich price of nature, precious gem,  
give entertainment to suspecting guests?  
Come, come, these arms are curious chains of love,  
with which thou linkest my heart eternally,  
thy cheeks the royal Paper interlined,  
with Nature's Rhetoric, and loves persuasion  
stands there attracting still my gazing eye:  
This then I'll read, and here I now will feign,  
that those all antique fables of the Gods  
are writ in flowing numbers; first thy lip,  
was fair Europa's, which they say, made Jove  
turn a wild Heifer: next, this sparkling eye  
was the Aemonian Io's: then, this hand  
Leda's, fair Mother to those Star-made Twins;  
Thus, thus I'll Comment on this golden Book:  
Nature nor Art, have taught me how to feign;  
Fairest, 'twas you first brought me to this vain:  
In loving Combats, now I valiant prove,  
let othets war, great Amurath shall love.  Scha. 
Brave resolution! O the fond thoughts of man!  
awake Euno! I'll find stratagems:  
There shall be Physic, to purge this disease:  
light sores are gently used; but such a part  
must be cut off, left it infect the heart.  Amar. 
Schahin, Our Tutor, we command this night  
be solemnised with all delightful sports  
thy learned invention best can think upon.  
Prepare a Mask, which lively represents,  
how once the Gods did love: that shall not teach  
us by examples; but we'll smile to think,  
how poor and weak their idle feigning was  
to our affection. Schahin, be free in wit,  
and sudden: now come my Kingdom's Bride:  
Hymen would wed himself to such a Bride.  Exeunt all but Schahin.  

Actus 1. Scena 2.  Schah. 
Nature, and all those universal powers,  
which showed such admirable Godlike skill,  
in framing this true model of ourselves,  
this Man, this thing called man, why do you thus,  
make him a spectacle of such laughter for you,  
when in each man we see a Monarchy?  
For, as in states, all fortunes still attend:  
So with a Kingdom, with a complete state  
will governed, and well managed in himself:  
both each man bears, when that best part of man,  
(Reason) doth sway and rule each Passion.  
Affections are good Servants: but if Will  
makes them once Master, they'll prove Tyrants still.  
No more King now, poor Subject AMURATH;  
whom I have seen, break through a Troop of Men,  
like lightning from a Cloud: and done those Acts,  
which ' even the Furies would have trembled at:  
Treading down Armies, as if by them he meant  
of dead men's backs to build up stairs to Heaven:  
And now lieth lurking in a woman's arms,  
drenched in the Lethe of Ignoble lust,  
appoints me for the wanton Engineer  
to keep his so lose thoughts in smoothing tune.  
Woman, enticing woman, golden hook  
to catch our thoughts, and when we once are caught  
to drag's into the public view of shame;  
And there we lie bathed in incestuous pleasure  
for all good men to laugh and scorn at once.  
Bane to my senses! I could either wish  
our birth were like those Creatures, which we say  
Are bred from putrid and corrupted matter;  
Then that we should acknowledge our dear being  
with grass and flowers: for what else is our state  
up to the top? But then the weight shall fall  
upon their head that caused it. Work (my brain)  
tush, blood, not water must wash off this stain.  Exit.  

Scena 3. Actus 1.  Enter Amurath in state with Nobles: Eumorphe with attendant Ladies: while Amurath ascends his Throne, and placeth Eumorphe by him. Am. 
Shine here (my beauty) and expel the night  
more than a thousand stars that grace the Heavens:  
Me thinks, I see the Gods inventing shapes  
in which they mean to court thee. Jove he frowns,  
and is more jealous, more suspicious  
of thee, than all the painted Trulls, whose eyes  
bedeck the all enamelled Firmament.  Eum. 
Beauty (my Lord) 'tis the worst part of woman,  
a weak poor thing, assaulted every hour  
by creeping minutes of defacing time;  
A superficies which each breath of care  
blasts off: and every humorous stream of grief,  
which flows from forth these Fountains of our eyes,  
washeth away, as rain doth Winter's snow.  
But those blessed guiders of all Nuptial rites,  
have wrought a better cement to make fast,  
the hearts of Lovers; the true name of Wife  
guilds o'er our thrones, with a more constant shape  
than can be subject or to time, or care:  
And in ourselves; yea in our own true breasts  
we have obedience, duty, careful Love;  
And last and best of all, we may have Children,  
Children are Hymen's pledges, these shall be  
perpetual chains, to link my Lord and me.  Amur. 
Art thou a Woman? Goddess, we adore,  
and Idolise what we but loved before.  
What Devils have men been, whose furious brains  
have oft abused that Deity called Woman:  
dipping their Raven's quill in Stygian Ink,  
to blast such heavenly paper as your faces!  
Were all the enticing lusts, damned policies,  
prodigious fascinations, unsearched thoughts,  
dissembled tears, broke vows, loathed appetites,  
luxurious and unsatiate desires;  
Were all these of women equally weighed,  
that virtue in thy breast 'twill outbalance all,  
and recompense the ruin of all thy Sex.  Enter a Servant and speaks. Seru. 
So please your Majesty, L. Schahin's ready  
for entrance with his Masque.  Am. 
Tell him, we're wholly bend for expectation.  Exit Seru. 
Sat, sit (my Queen) Music exceed your Spheres,  
think I am Jove, and Godlike please our ears.   

Scena 4. Actus 1.  A Masque. Enter from aloft two Torchbearers, than Jupiter and Juno, and two Torchbearers more, than Mars and Venus, and two Torchbearers more, than Apollo and Pallas▪ and two more Torchbearers, than Neptune and Diana. Whilst they are descending, Cupid hanging in the Air, sings to soft Music this Song following. Cupid sings. 
Gaze you mortals, gaze you still,  
On the Gods now look your fill.  
Jove and Juno are descending,  
Yet her jealousy's not ending,  
Mars, stern Mars, he will not fight,  
But with Venus when 'tis Night.  
Daphne crownes Apollo's head,  
Whom she would embrace in Bed;  
Neptune swells his frothy cheek,  
Cause Diana is not meek.  
Gaze you mortals, etc.  Jup. 
Come now my (Sister and Wife) we'll begin  
to court afresh! Nay, louvre not (Heaven's Queen)  
here on this green we'll a Lavalto dance;  
What if our hairs grow silver, yet our strength  
Is young, and vigorous. Say (fellow Gods)  
(Since we are full of Nectar, and our cares  
Lie drenched in our Nepenthe) take your Queens, and be  
All jovial; Mars for our Daughter Venus,  
Apollo join with Pallas, Brother of Floods  
embrace Diana; Gods sometimes merry be;  
but in the night, when mortals may not see.  Each God as appointed by Jove, takes his Goddess, they dance a Masque dance, and in the dance Juno observes Jove's glances to Eumorphe, and at the end of the dance, speaketh thus. Jup. 
How now (wanton?) Can I not where go,  
for recreation, but you follow me?  Jun. 
Is this your recreation? Fie! My Lord,  
will you be wanton still! For here you came  Points at Eumorphe. 
For some new Harlot, some new Queen for you.  Jup. 
Juno, Wife.  Juno. 
Your Sister, (thunderer,) and not your Wife!  
Banished from Heaven I am; and your Bed:  
resign them both to Strumpets, Concubines.  Points at Eumorphe. 
And now you come to see a fresh new lass,  
in which Pole now, or in what part of heaven  
shall she be stellified?  Jupit. 
Shall still sinister thoughts wrong our intent?  
well (Juno) well, you'll ever be a woman,  
a very, very woman! But since she scolds,  
Let's hence (ye Gods) lest her infectious breath  
blast the succeeding day; and mortals curse  
her hellbred jealousy: Calumnious woman,  
Come, scold in heaven; For if Gods lived on Earth,  
suspicious tongues would blame most innocent mirth.  Here all the Gods and Goddesses ascend; at the top of the ascent, Juno stops and speaks. Jun. 
Well, Jove looked pale, I touched him to the quick;  
'tis some new Minion he came down to see:  
Hark (jealousy) know Juno is a woman!  
Am I not mad yet? Mistress Bride, adieu,  
Jove shall not steal a kiss; My curse is past,  
when thou sleepest first a Bride, mayst sleep thy last.  Exit. Cupid. 
Fair Bride, I sang thy Epithalamy,  
and left Elysium for thy Nuptials:  
Juno here thundered ' against the Thunderer;  
knowing how thy beauty dazzles hers,  
she durst not let heaven's King once glance a look,  
but threatened with her hellbred incantations,  
to metamorphize thine unparalleled  
and most celestial shape into worse forms;  
And more prodigious than ever poisoned charms  
wrought on the fabled Concubines of Jove:  
but know great Queen, my Mother Venus vows  
her everlasting guard to save such beauty;  
Lest if thou perish, Nature herself  
lose her only parterne of serenity.  
But I must hast, Love, which the Gods protect,  
can never be endangered by neglect.  Ascended. Amur. 
Schahin, thine Art is excellent but say,  
do Gods fall out for love amongst themselves?  Scah. 
My Lord, these are but fables: yet to make  
the show more pertinent, and to grace your Queen,  
conceit took leave to put the frown on juno.  Eum. 
My Lords and friends, we shall be ever thankful  
and rest a Debtor to your courtesy.  Schah. 
Not so, fair Queen, but durst I now entreat  
the Kings detaining from the sweets of Bed,  
there yet remains one thought upon conceit,  
which you would doubly grace me to behold.  Amur. 
Our worthy Tutor shall obtain a night,  
a night of us, in any case we can!  Scah. 
But then let me inform your Majesty,  
that 'tis a warrior's show, which once you loved,  
but now are free from.  Amur. 
'tis best of all, with greediness we'll see it,  
O how the soul doth gratulate itself  
when safely it beholds the dangerous state  
of others, and itself security free!  
Glad are we still to stand upon the shore,  
and see afar off others tossed i'th' Sea:  
or in a Gallery at a Fencer's stage,  
we laugh when mutually each one takes wounds;  
Sat still (Eumorphe:) Schahin, thy show in haste;  
'Tis best delight, to think on troubles past.   

Scena 5. Actus 1.  Enter in Masque the Ghost of Hector and Achilles, to them Alexander the great stands gazing on t 'em, whilst Fame speaks from aloft. Fame. 
Stay you most worthy shades▪ brave Hector, stay;  
And proud Achilles, know your massy Tombs,  
which have so long o'erwhelmed your valiant bones,  
yawns wide to let the imprisoned corpses forth.  
I must afresh imbalm your sacred Trunks,  
and sweet your memory with most happy oil  
of just report; the Gods awaked me Fame  
from out the oblivious Sepulchre of sleep,  
to drop that Ink into old Homer's pen,  
wherewith he curiously hath lined your names,  
enfolding them in Everlasting Cedar,  
and make them live to all posterity.  
Virtue to valour hath his gift assigned,  
great men may die, yet deeds still rest in mind.  Exeunt umbrae Hectoris & Achilis, Manet Alexander looking after them, reading in Homer. Alexand. 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
most fortunate young man, whose worth is crowned  
with everlasting Trophies of renown,  
how hath he set thee on the wings of fame  
which sore i'th' middle region of high glory,  
proposed to all, a never dying story!  Enter to Alexander, Philoxenus a Captain. Phil. 
May it please thee (Son of Jupiter) to accept  
a Present, which our fight enriched us with?  Alex. 
Is it a Band of stubborn Soldiers, Captain?  Philox. 
O no (my Liege) of exquisite formed Ladies,  
Darius his wife, the wonder of her Sex;  
Besides a Troop of such shaped Ganymedes,  
that Love not equals.  Alex. 
Philoxenus, We thank thee. Yet hark,  
there is a secret we would know of thee,  
and you must tell Us: on your faith you must.  Phil. 
My Liege—  Alex. 
Nay, no Court oil (by your leave) no flattery,  
we are but man, this very trunk of ours,  
Is but a Vessel filled with humane blood,  
and we trust not that Parasite like pen,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
All the destroying vices of frail man,  
I may be subject to; but what base looseness,  
or supple Luxury, didst thou ere observe  
so to benumb our sense, that thou shouldst think  
we could be pleased with such effeminate Presents?  
Know sir, our eyes shall have that abstinence  
that will not look on them, on boys, or women.  
Hence then, and present some coward with them.  Exit Philoxenus 
Give me a spectacle would please the Gods,  
and make them bend their Ivory brows to the Earth;  
a man, a Soldier, strong with his wounds;  
'mongst fate and ruin, upright and unshaped,  
his mind being all his guard, his wall, and armour▪  
and if he fall, still noble wrath remains  
in his amazed Trunk: not all the darts  
stuck in his sides, making him all one wound,  
affright his courage; but wrath lending weapons,  
himself doth seem a new and horrid War.  
Nor are those Milksops which beguile the time,  
with stealing minutes from their Lady's lips,  
such as the Gods doe love; for as the Wind  
loseth it's force, if it be not opposed  
with woods of strong and stubborn planted trees;  
So Virtue, if it walk in trodden paths.  
That breaks up honour's gap, and makes the way  
through paths of death: that flame burns strong  
which is resisted: valour shines in wrong:  
Of Alexander's Soldiers be this said,  
war was as peace, when he the army led.  Exit. Fame. 
Brave Macedon, how truly hast thou weighed  
the reason of man's birth! who is equall borne,  
for all the world, as well as for himself.  
the world's a field too narrow for thy worth,  
and although Nature hath her enacted bounds  
for Sea and earth, nay for the heavens themselves,  
nor Sea nor earth shall coop thy valour up:  
Valour of Nature ever this attains,  
that it breaks forth, fare, and beyond her chains,  
and this I'll trumpet out; The whole world's Ball,  
in which thou art so great, to thee is small.  
When men want worlds to show their virtue in,  
that is the crime o'th' Gods, and not their sin:  
'Tis a decree of a true Soldier's mind,  
to think nought done, when aught is lest behind.  
On (valiant youth) for, know I will appoint  
a Grecian Prince, who so shall steep his quill  
to paint thy name in Wells of eloquence,  
that this thy scorn of Lust shall be proposed  
for King's example to posterity.  
Know mortals, that the men the Gods most love,  
in hard and dangerous Arts they always prove  
When men live brave at first, then fall to crimes,  
their bad is Chronicle to future times:  
For, who gins good Arts, and not proceeds  
he but goeth backward in all noble deeds.  
Death consecrates those men whose awful end,  
though most men fear, yet all men must commend.  ascends. Amurath seems troubled, yet collecting himself, dissembles his Passion, speaks. Am. 
Schahin, the Macedon's beholding to thee,  
and history shall pay you thanks for this,  
which we rest Debtors for.  Scah. 
Great Prince, such kindness of acceptance pays  
For things which are but for a King's delight:  
in seeing them, he amply doth requite.  Am. 
Eumorphe, Love, Queen, Wife, le'ts hast to Bed,  
and may we wish this night eternal time.  
Schahin, good night: good night, kind gentlemen.  
Thus when we are dead shall we revive o'th' stage:  
one hour can present a kings whole age.  Exeunt omnes.   

Actus 2.  

Scena 1.  Enter Schahin, Eurenoses. Schah. 
Observed you not the King's looks? Grew they not pale?  Euren. 
O yes (Lord Schahin) you must be his Parent,  
and snatch him out o'th' Gulf he's falling in.  
That feigned speech of Alexander's wrought  
like to most purging Physic; nights then black,  
when 'tis compared with day: Boldness is clear,  
when 'tis presented before bastard fear.  Schah. 
I'll tell thee, Eurenoses, thou art a Soldier,  
and I am both a Soldier, and a Scholar;  
And for these two Professions am both most glorious,  
and most meritorious; Pallas is for both:  
O what Tisiphone, what snaked scourge  
can make a Scholar, that should never sleep,  
but 'twixt the Pillows of Parnassus Hils,  
and dip his lips in springs of Helicon,  
make him by snoring on a wanton breast,  
and suck the adulterate and spiced breath  
of a lewd famed woman?  Euren. 
And for a Soldier (Schahin,) let me speak:  
We that do know, the use of swords and fire,  
we that do know, halters can throttle us,  
shall we ere venture on a Woman's cruelty?  
We that endure no Lords, shall we endure  
a woman to overcome us? Most true Demophoon,  
I reverence thy memory: no puling phrase  
could so enchain thee to thy Thracian Dame,  
but thou wouldst rather perish than she save thee.  
I'll not declaim long on that common theme,  
but they have lust lie in their finger's ends,  
and whilst their sweetheart's breath sticks in their sheets,  
they will admit another Lucrece in the day,  
to be a Thais, if the night will not gainsay.  Scah. 
Why (Eurenoses) why should we endure  
a new Queen now? this Kingdom wants not heirs:  
we know (should we have more) 'twere dangerous.  
But hark! The Queens for Bed-enticing sleep  soft Music. 
with charms of Music: well, even such a Night  
may yet prove dismal ere the following Light!  Eurenos. 
Schahin, let's in:  
the first degree to purge such ills as these,  
is to instruct the patiented his disease:  
that you have done.  Scah. 
Yea, and will yet once more  
adventure a new stratagem. Just when the King  
h'as rid his Chamber, and with covetous haste  
thinks for to clip Elysium, and drink deep  
of his long wished delight, I having skill  
and uncontrolled access, will in disguise  
seem his deceased Father's apparition:  
and by all ties of children to their Parents,  
bid him forsake that vile bewitching woman.  Euren. 
An easy Medicine doth and sure will work,  
to rub shrewd wounds, make them but fester more,  
Fowl Medicines we worse brook, than a foul sore.   

Scena 2. Actus 2.  Enter Eumorphe as to Bed in her Night-robes, attended with Tapers and Ladies. Menth. 
Madam make haste, The King will be impatient  
if he be from you long. O Happiness!  Emorph. 
Why Menthe! then thou deemest us happy  
thus to command a world of services,  
to have a King my subject; and attended  
with these harmonious sounds t'affect our ears?  Menthe. 
Yes (truly Madam) 'tis a happiness.  Eumorph. 
'Tis, were it Eternal: but I fear a power,  
a woman's power, doth but make sport with us.  
Why, were we not once (Menthe) a Captive Wretch?  Menthe 
Yes Lady! now your happiness's the more:  
Riches please best, when there went want before.  Eum. 
That power which raised us from so base, so high,  
can throw us down again as suddenly:  
Me thinks my life is but a Player's Scene  
in the last Act: my part was then to play  
a captive creature, and a Queen to day.  Menthe. 
Your Morals (Madam) are too serious;  
Me thinks these Ornaments should elevate  
your dumpish spirits. Think this Bed a place,  
in which no Icy slipping chance hath power;  
A Kings safe Bed is like a guarded Tower.  Eum. 
No (Menthe) no, 'tis not the Bed of state,  
nor the free smile of a well pleased King:  
'tis not the embracing Arms of Emperors,  
nor all the Gems that so enwreathe the brows  
can so allure Fortune unto their gaze,  
as she should still be constant; O she's blind,  
nor doth she know herself where she is kind;  
Those, those are Kings, and Queens, whose breast's secure,  
like brazen walls, Lust's entrance not endure;  
Where impotent ambition not intrudes,  
nor the unstable talk of multitudes;  
Fortune serves such, they happiness command  
more than all Lybia's gold, all Tagus sand;  
as heaven hath given us no more conspicuous things,  
than form or beauty: so like a forward spring,  
Nothing more short.  Menthe. 
Madam, divine not of a change; Belief  
is too too prone, in entertaining grief!  Eum. 
Our Lord attends, to enter in,  
and surely sleep envieth his delight,  
for he sits heavy on my drowsy lids,  
draw all our Curtains; sleep be guiles our ears.  Men. 
Madam, good night, time helps suspicious fears!  Exit Menthe. This Song is to be sung in the Music room to soft Music, now when she looks, she's dreaming scent to Elysium. 
Drop golden showers, gentle sleep,  
And all the Angels of the Night,  
Which do us in protection keep,  
Make this Queen dream of delight  
Morpheus be kind a little, and be  
Deaths now true Image, for it will prove  
To this poor Queen, that then thou art he;  
Her grave is made i'th' Bed of love.  
Thus with sweet sweets can Heaven mix gall,  
And marriage turn to Funeral.   

Scaena 3. Actus. 2.  Enter Amurath in his Night robes, a Taper in his hand, seems much disturbed, speaks. Amur. 
Turk, Amurath, slave, nay something base,  
King! For all airy titles which the Gods  
have blasted man withal, to make them swell  
with puffed up honour, and ambitious wind,  
this name of King holds greatest antipathy  
with manly government: for if we weigh,  
'Tis subjects, and not Kings bear all the sway.  
Each whispered murmur from their idle breath  
condemns a King to infamy, to death;  
Were there a Metempsychosis of souls,  
and nature should a free Election grant  
what things they afterwards would reinform,  
the vain and haughtiest minds the Sun ere saw,  
Would choose it's Cottage in some Shepherd's flesh,  
nay, be confined within some Dog or Cat,  
than (Antique-like) prank in a King's gay-clotheses▪  
Were I no King, and had no Majesty,  
I had more than all Kings, blessed liberty;  
And without rumour might enjoy my choice,  
not fearing Censure of each popular voice.  
Poor men may love, and none their wills correct:  
but all turn Satyrs of a Kings affect.  
O my base greatness! What disastrous star  
professed itself a Midwife at my birth,  
to shape me into such prodigious States?  
But hence regard of tongues! Were we a Saint,  
some envious tongue would dare our names to taint:  
and he from slander is at securest rest,  
not that hath none, but that regards it least.  
Open you envious Curtains; here's a sight,  Draws the Curtain. 
that might commend the act of Love so chaste.  
Were now the chariot-guider of the Sun  
weary o's task, and would entreat a day  
of Heaven to rest in, here's a radiant Look,  
that might be fixed i'th' midst o'th' Axletree;  
and in despite of dark conspiring Clouds,  
she would outshine Sun, Moon and all the Stars.  
O, I could court thee now (my sweet) a fresh,  
mixing a kiss with every period;  
Telling the Lilies how they are but won,  
earth in the vernant spring is dull, and dark,  
compared with this aspect! the Eastern air,  
fanned with the wings of Mercury and Jove,  
infectious, but compared with this perfume.  
Hence than th' ambition of that furious * youth, Alexis  
who knew not what a crime his rashness was!  
I might o'ercome more Kingdoms, have more dominion,  
enthrone myself an Emperor o'th' world;  
I might, I might; Amurath thou mightst.  
The Christians now will scoff at Mahomet;  
Perchance they sent this wretch thus to enchant me!  
O my perplexed thoughts! Tush, I'll to bed,  
should the commanding Thunder of the Gods  
prohibit me, or strike me in the act.  
Talk on (vain rumour) fame I dare thy worst!  
Call me a Lusty, Lazy, wanton, coward!  
should I win all the world, my breath once fled,  
my bad would still survive all good be dead.  
Eumorphe, sweet, I come! you sacred powers  
who have bestowed some happiness on man,  
to help to pass away this sinful life,  
Grant me a youthful vigour yet a while,  
full veins, free strength, complete and manly sense,  
to know, and take a beauty most immense!   

Scena 4. Actus 2.  Amurath makes haste to the Bed, on a sudden enter Schahin disguised like the Ghost of Orcanes, father to Amurath. Schahin. 
Amurath, Amurath.  Amurath. 
Devil, Devil; what?  
Darest thou appear before an Angel (Fiend?)  Scah. 
O Amurath, why doth intemperate Lust,  
raging within thy furious youthful veins,  
burst through thy father's Tomb? Disturb his soul?  
Know, all the torments that the fabulous age  
dreamt, did afflict deceased impious Ghosts,  
heartbiting-hunger, and soul-searching thirst,  
the ne'er consumed, yet ever eaten prey  
that the devouring Vulture feeds upon,  
are not such tortures as our offsprings crimes:  
They, they sit heavy on us, and no date  
Makes our compassionate affection cease.  
O thou hereditary Ulcer, hark,  
by the name of Father, and by all those cares  
which brought me to my grave, to make thee great:  
Thou that hast nothing of me but my crown:  
My enterprise surpassed the boundless Sea,  
cutting the churlish Waves of Hellespont,  
when the flood stood which wind for to obey!  
Euxinum groaned beneath my burdenous ships:  
I was the first of all the Turkish Kings  
that Europe knew, and the fond Christians plague.  
What coward blood ran flowing in my veins,  
when thou wert first begot, who marrest all  
thy Father's acts by thy untamed desires?  
Wherefore with Stygian curses I will lad thee:  
First, may she prove a Strumpet to thy Bed,  
be her lips poison, and let her lose embraces▪  
be venomous as Scorpions: If she conceive  
a Generation from thee, let it be;  
as ominous as thou hast been to me;  
Rebellious to thy Precepts, printing cares  
upon thy aged brows. O may they prove,  
as Fairies for to lash thee in thy rest!  
But Amurath, if thou canst quench this flame,  
if thou wilt cut this Gordian thread, and rend hence  
that putrid Wen which cleaves unto they flesh,  
be all thine actions prosperous. Mahomet  
shall be auspicious unto each design;  
Fortune to show thee favour shall be proud,  
Farewell. If what men do speak last before  
they die take root, then dead men's should take more.  Exit Schahin. Amur. 
What, art thou vanished? Know (thou careful spirit)  
thou shalt no sooner pierce the wand'ring clouds  
with unperceived flight, than my resolve  
shall expiate my former Vanity.  
Look on thy son, thou airy intellect,  
and see him sacrifice to thy command!  
Now Titan turn thy breathing coursers bacl,  
start hence bright day, a sable Cloud invade  
this universal Globe, break every prop  
and every hinge that doth sustain the Heavens:  
For strait must die a woman, I have named  
a crime, that may accuse all Nature guilty.  
The Sex wisely considered, deserves a death;  
For think this, Amurath, this woman may  
prostrate her delicate and Ivory limbs  
to some base Page, or Scul, or shrunk up Dwarf,  
Or let some Groom lie feeding on her lips,  
she may devise some mishapen trick  
to satiate her goatish Amurath;  
and from her bended knees at Meditation,  
be taken by some slave tothth' deep of Hell!  
thou'rt a brave Creature, wert thou not a woman.  
Tutor! Come! thou shalt see my well-kept vow,  
and know my hate, which saw me dote but now:  
Schahin! Eurenoses! Captains, ho!   

Scaenae. 5. Actus. 2.  Enter Schahin, Eurenoses, Chase-Illibegge. 
Our Tutor, Eurenoses, Captains, welcome.  
Gallants, I call you to a spectacle:  
My breast's too narrow to hoard up my joy▪  
Nay, gaze here Gentlemen! give Nature thanks,  
for framing such an excellent sense as Sight,  
whereby such objects are enjoined as this▪  
Which of you now imprison not your thoughts  
in envious and silent policy.  Scah. 
My Lord to whatsoever you shall propose,  
my sentence shall be free.  
Euren And mine.  Chase-il. 
And mine.  Am. 
Which of you then dare challenge to himself  
such a pathetical Prerogative,  
so stoically severed from affection?  
That, had he such a Creature as lieth here,  
one, at whom Nature herself stood amazed,  
one, whom those lofty ecstasies of poets,  
should they decay, here't must nor barely dump  
their dull inventions with similitudes,  
taken from Sun, Moon, Violets, Roses;  
and, when their ruptures at a period stand,  
a silent admiration must supply.  
Only name her, and she is all described.  
Hyperbole of women, Colour itself  
is not more pure, and incontaminate!  
sleep dotes on her and grasps her eyelids close?  
the sky itself hath only so much blue  
as the azure in her veins lends by reflux.  
Here's breath that would those vapours purify,  
which from Avernus chokes the flying Birds:  
here's heat would tempt the numbed Athenian,  
though all his blood with age were congealed ye!  
Now, which of you all is so temperate,  
that did he find this Jewel in his bed  
(unless an Eunuch) could refrain to grapple,  
and dally with her? come! speak freely all.  Sch. 
Truly (my Lord) I came of mortal parents  
and must confess me subject to desires;  
freely enjoy your Love!  
that were she mine, I surely would do no less.  Amur. 
What saith Eurenoses?  Euren. 
My Lord, I say,  
that they may rail at light, that ne'er saw day;  
but had I such a Creature by my side,  
were the world twice enlarged, and all that world  
o'ercome by me, all volumes writ,  
made clean and filled up by Rhetoric strains  
of my great deeds, Historians should spend  
their Ink and Paper in my sole Chronicle;  
A thousand such alluring idle charms  
could not conjure me from betwixt her arms.  Amur. 
Your sentence Chas-illebeg?  Chas. 
What need your grace depend upon our breath?  
I vow (my Lord,) if all those scrupulous things  
which burden us with precepts so precise,  
those parents, which when they are married once  
and past their strength of years, think their sons strait  
should be as old in every thing as they;  
I say my Lord, did my head wear a crown,  
that Queen should be the chiefest gem t'adorn it,  
spite of all hate. That's an unhappy state,  
when Kings must fear to love least subjects hate.  Amu. 
Well spoke, three Milksops, Schahin. your sword,  Schahin gives him a Sword. 
Now, now be valour in this manly arm  
to cut off troops of thoughts that would invade me!  
Think you my mind is waxy to be wrought  
int'any fashion? Orcanes, thy strength!  
Here do I wish, as did that Emperor,  
that all the heads of that enticing Sex  
were upon hers, thus then should one full stroke  
mow them all off.  Amurath cuts off Eumorphe's head, shows it to the nobles. 
there kiss now (Captains) do, and clap her cheeks:  
this is the face that did so captive me:  
these were the looks that so bewitched mine eyes:  
here be the lips, that I but for to touch,  
gave over fortune, victory, fame and all;  
these were two lying mirrors where I looked  
and thought I saw a world of happiness.  
Now tutor, shall our swords be exercised  
in ripping up the breasts of Christians?  
Say Generals, Whither is't first?  A. 
For Thracia.  Amurath. 
On then for Thracia, for he surely shall,  
that conquers first himself, soon conquer all.  Exeunt omnes.   

Actus 3.  

Scena 1.  Enter Cobelitz solus. Cobelitz. 
Thou sacred guider of the arched Heavens,  
who canst collect the scattering stars, and fix  
the Erratic planets in the constant pole!  
O why shouldst thou take such solicitous care  
to keep the air, and Elements in course?  
That Winter should unclothe our Mother Earth,  
and wrap her in a winding sheet of snow;  
that then the spring duly revives her still,  
unbinds her sinews, fills her clinged up veins  
with living dew, and makes her young again.  
Next that, the Nemean terror breathes her flames,  
to parch her flaxy hairs with furious heat;  
which to allay too, thou op'st the Cataracts,  
and water'st the world's gardens with blessed drops;  
canst thou, which canst sustain the ponderous world,  
and keep it in true poise, securely sleep,  
letting a Tyrant (which with a fillip, thus;  
thou mightest sink to earth) to baffle thee?  
A warrior in thy fields, I long have been  
To see if in thy sacred providence,  
Thou meanest to arm me with thy thunderbolt,  
Yet, yet, it strikes not; now he Giant-wise,  
Dares thee again; pardon our earnest zeal  
What ever's decreed for man, by thy behest,  
He must perform, and in obedience rest.  
Thou, like Spectators when they do behold  
an hardy youth encountering with a Bear,  
or something terrible▪ than they give a shout;  
so dost thou even applaud they self to see  
Religion striving with Calamity.  
Which while it often bears, and still rests true,  
it's fence 'gainst all that after shall ensue.  
Turk, I'll oppose thee still; Heaven has decreed,  
That this weak hand, shall make that tyrant bleed▪  
a man religious, firm, and strongly good  
cannot oth● sudden be, nor understood.  Exit.  

Actus 3. Scena 2.  Enter Amurath in Arms, Schahin, Captains, Soldiers. Amurath. 
Rise (Soul!) enjoy the prize of thy brave worth:  
Schahin, the Present that thou so professed,  
should from the City of Orestias,  
make proud our eyes! then tell me, Hast thou slain  
a thousand superstitious Christian souls?  
made them stoop to us: O, I would bathe my hands  
in their warm blood to make them supple (Schahin)  
that they may wield more Spears: our hands are dull,  
our fury's patiented! Now will I be a Turk.  
and to our Prophet's Altars do I vow,  
that to his yoke I will all necks subdue,  
or in their throats my bloody Sword imbrue.  Schahin calls in his Soldiers, and each of them presents to Amurath the head of a dead Christian. Scha. 
Then King, to add fresh oil unto thy hate,  
and make it raise itself a greater flame,  
see here these Christians heads; thus still shall fall  
before thy fatal hand, these impious slaves:  
so long as numbers 's wanting to the sand,  
so long as day shall come with Sun, and night  
be spangled with the twilight dawning stars,  
whilst floods shall fall into the Ocean,  
shall Christians tremble at Turk's thundering strokes.  Amurat. 
So am I Amurath, the great King of Turks,  
O how it glads me thus to pash their brains,  
to rend their locks, to tear these Infidels!  
Who thundered when these heads were smitten off?  
Stars I could reach you with my lofty hand,  
'tis well, enough, enough, (great Amurath)  
for now I sit in Orcanes' great Throne,  
and sacrifice due Rites to Mahomet;  
yet why enough? I'll on, and dung the Earth,  
with Christians rotten trunks, that from that soil,  
may spring more Cadmean Monsters to o'ercome them.  
Captains, what Countries next shall we make flow,  
with Channels of their blood?  Euren. 
To Servia (my Lord) there are troops of arms,  
gathered to resist Mahometan.  Chase. 
At Bulgaria, there they set on fire,  
the Countries as they pass, 'twere good we haste.  Amur. 
Why they do well! we like of their desire  
to make the flame in which themselves must fry!  
Ruin, destruction, famine, and the sword,  
shall all invade them: Sun stay thou thy flight,  
and see the sneaks in their own River drenched,  
whilst with their blood our furious thirst is quenched!   

Scena. 3. Actus 3.  Enter in arms, Lazarus Despot of Servia, Sesmenos Governor of Bulgaria. La. 
Wither (Bulgaria) whither must we fly?  
the Butcherous Turks at hand. Blessed Sanctity!  
if thou didst ere guard goodness, wall our towers,  
bring strength into our Nerves. For in thy cause  
our Breasts upon their Rapiers we will run;  
we'll with just hope confront the tyrant's rage,  
meet him i'the face, fury will find us arms,  
there is a power can guard us from all harms.  Sesse. 
Let us be sudden: for we'll not find scope,  
to see our haps. Who most doth fear, may hope.  Enter to them Cobelitz. Cob. 
Governor, Captain's, hast unto your arms:  
the dangers imminent, and the Turk's at hand.  Laz. 
- (Cobelitz) must we still wade thus deep  
in blood and terror?  Cob. 
Yes (Servia) we must, we should, we ought,  
Ease and lucresse keeps baseness company.  
Shall we not blush to see the register  
of those great Romans, and Heroic Greeks,  
which did those acts, at which our hearts are struck  
beneath all credence, only to win fame?  
and shall not we for that Eternal name?  
To live without all credence, even to win fame,  
is not to know life's chief, and better parts:  
To us of future hopes: calamity  
must help to purchase immortality.  Sesse. 
Well spoke (trueChristian) they who still live high,  
and snoare in praised applause ne'er know to bear,  
a contumely, or check, or fate.  
Wisely to steer a Ship, or guide an Army,  
undaunted hardiness is requisite;  
O then lets to our weapons! make him yield;  
they which deny all right, oft give't ith'Field.  Enter Christian Soldiers falling out among them-fighting confusedly. Cob. 
Why (Gentlemen) we want no foes to fight,  
nor need we turn our weapons on ourselves.  One Soldier speaks as drunk. 1. 
You lazy rogue, what come in my Cabinet?  answer the other. 2. 
Conspiring slave, you murmured 'gainst th'allowance,  
and wouldst persuade upon a larger pay,  
to betray all Garrisons, and turn Turk.  
Thou half Can-carousing rascal, I'll tear thee,  
and those treacherous veins of thine. Will you see,  They all fall by the ears. 
Blue-jackets, will you see your Corporal wronged?  
well, since I fight for victuals, for company.  
Use now your swords and Bucklers.  La. 
Treason, the next man that speaks or strikes a blow.  Sold. 
Then shall our Laundresses fight for us?  2. 
Why, Amazons! Baudicans, come help to scratch.  Enter some Trulls on both sides, they fight and scratch. Sesm. 
O Cobelitz, what way shall we appease them?  Trulls scold confusedly: Thus 1. Trul. 
Out, thy Corporal (huswife) hath the itch,  
you now will have foul washing. Drab, I'll tear your mouth:  2. 
An inch or two yet wider.  Cob. 
What, soldiers! think you each distasteful word,  
given 'mongst yourselves so strong an obloquy,  
that revenge spurs you to each others death?  The General parts them with his sword. 
And will not seek to wash those blasphemies,  
in Seas of their foul blood, which are belched out  
by our approaching foes, against the Essence  
of the Eternal!  Laz. 
Leave, leave, these factions; cease these mutinies  A Drum from the Turks Camp. 
Hark, their Drums take advantage of these stirs:  
let us oppose our strength against our foe;  
and in our Camp let not one Soldier be,  
who will not find, and strike his Enemy.  Cob. 
Now (blessed guider and great strength of arms)  
if in thy secret and hidden decree,  
thou hast not yet appointed the full time  
wherein thou meanest to tame this Tiger,  
who dare murmur against thine hidden will?  
Be we slain now, there's victory in store,  
which when thou pleasest thou it give, and not before.  
Give us still strength of patience, not to wish,  
a funeral honour unto all the world,  
when we are perishing, we'll still believe,  
those dangers worth our death we undergo,  
whilst he, who's ours, is alike thy foe.  
Should Fortune lose this day, when we are slain,  
thou canst give hands, and strength, and men again;  
on thee we trust then, and on thee bear,  
scorning for Heaven's sake to shed a tear.  Exeunt.  

Actus 3. Scena 4.  A March within, excursions, alarms. Enter as Conquerors, Cairadin Bassa, Schahin, leading young men Christians, Prisoners. Schah. 
Bassa, we thank thy valour and discretion,  
in finding fit occasion to invade  
the mutinous Christians! these Captives here  
shall be good Presents to our worthy Master.  Bassa. 
General, now trust me these young slaves,  
be full of Valour, they have metal in them.  Schuh. 
Yes: and to his Highness shall perform  
a Service which I long have thought upon,  
and when his Turkish Majesty requires;  
they'll fit to be a near attendant Guard,  
on all occasions to the Emperor;  
therefore they shall be called Janissaries,  
by me first instituted, for our Prince's safeties sake.  Bass. 
Their vigour & strong hearts becomes such service,  
for to o'ercome them made our Soldiers sweat  
much Turkish blood: the Servians kept the Fight  
with stubborn hard resistance, The Bulgarians  
left the right wing; there set I forward first,  
and like a torrent rolled destruction on,  
raising huge storms of blood, as doth the Whale  
puff up the waves against a mighty Ship;  
me thinks, I see the Rivers of their gore:  
their Leaders trampled on by Turkish Horse,  
the Body of their Army quite dispersed,  
themselves all floating in Vermilion pools,  
with their own weapons hasting to their death,  
and such a slaughter did we make of them,  
as Nature scarce can ere repair again.  
One hastening tother's death, pulling to ground  
him that held up, so they each other drowned.  Schah. 
Still are they confident upon a power,  
they know not what, who (as they think) can snatch  
their precise souls from out the jaws of death.  Bass. 
Yes, such a superstition doth possess them;  
for when they looked for nothing but their fate,  
and danger stood in sweat upon their brows:  
they yet scorned Mahomet, and profaned his Rites,  
and nought but horror made them to believe  
so many men were fight on his side,  
as might have changed my seat, and part i'th' world,  
(though Nature stood against) to a new place:  
or carry Sestos whereby Abydos stands,  
or pull down Atlas with so many hands.   

Actus 3. Scena 5.  Enter Amurath with Ambassadors from Germane Ogly, concerning Bajazet, Amurath's Eldest son, and the Mahometans Daughter. Cairadin Bassa presents Amurath with his Captives for janissaries. etc. Amurath. 
How like our Captains the last Victory?  
(if any can prophesy of future things)  
me thought I did dream of this blessed hap.  
How fortune did involve them in their ruin!  
and flight from danger, brought them in their ruin.  
each one astonished with a sudden fear,  
knew not the danger that was then most near.  Bassa & Schahin presents Amurath with Captives for janissaries Bassa. 
To add more triumph, I present my Liege,  
with these young Rebels, which you may bring up  
in all the precepts of our Mahomet.  Scah. 
And, (for great Emperor, your person wants  
a thing which much o'erclouds your light of state,  
attendant janissaries to a Prince:)  
these may be so trained up, as to supply  
the duty fit for such a Majesty.  Am. 
Bassa, we thank thy strength, Schahin your counsel  
and to that end, let them have safe protection.  
But we must treat now of a marriage (Lords)  
the Germane Ogly, he whose Sceptre sways  
the Phrygian confines in strong Asia,  
by Embassy entreats that he may join  
his Daughter Hatum to our Bajazet.  
Ambassador, here to our Counsel speak  
your Master's Message.  Emb. 
Please then your Maj. and these reverend heads  
to be informed my masters will by me?  
In wedlock if your prince may be combined  
to the fair princess his sole daughter,  
he freely gives the Phrygian territories,  
and Bythinia to you for your dowry;  
Cutas, Simon, Egregios, Sansale,  
Abbettingon, the Ottomans estate;  
which Ottomans, because he not endures,  
the Noble Zelzucciom family protests,  
to join with you in quelling their ambition  Sca. 
May't please your majesty to like mine advice,  
it's good to have alliance with such friends;  
Kings that combine themselves are like to shafts,  
the ancient Sage proposed unto his sons;  
which whilst together they were close compact,  
arms, knees, and his whole strength, could never break;  
take one by one, they with a touch were cracked:  
so Kings may be o'ercome that stand alone;  
but two such princes, knit thus hand in hand,  
should Nations totter they would firmly stand.  Am. 
Yes Schahin, we'll approve what thou sayest,  
then from us carry the great Asia's Monarch  
this our kindest greeting:  
tell him, the gates of Prusa shall stand ope,  
and the glad air shall Echo notes of joy▪  
to entertain her who shall bless our Land  
with hopeful issue; greedy thoughts expect  
her soon arrival; and so (Ambassador)  
inform thy princess, when she shall appear,  
A lasting Star shall shine within our sphere.   

Scene 6. Actus 3.  Enter Sasmenos, Lazarus, Cobelitz. Sas. 
O Servia, our Cities are turned flames;  
each strives to hast his own and others death:  
And as though heaven conspired destruction too,  
that reins down scalding Sulphur on our heads,  
here one that lies thick gasping for his breath  
is choked with blood that runs from's fellows wounds;  
whilst others for the dead are making graves,  
themselves are made the corpse that do fill them.  
Nobles, and base, together perish all,  
and a drawn sword sticks fast in every rib;  
our stones are died Vermilion with our blood:  
old creatures that are creeping to the grave,  
are thrust on faster.  
Infants, but in the threshold of their lives,  
are thus kicked off: Oh most disastrous times,  
to love our deaths, and make our life our crimes!  Laz. 
See, see, the ruins of our goodly Walls,  
our City's smoke hinder the sight of heaven:  
The conqueror yet amazed measures out our Towns,  
with eyes of terror, and doth scarce believe  
he hath overcome us, yet among these fires,  
our dead men are denied their funeral flames:  
And those infectious carcases do perform,  
a second murder on the rest that live;  
and all the hope of safety that we have,  
is now to fix our flattering lips at's feet:  
mercy (perhaps) may wearied slaughter meet.  Sas. 
Will you do so? speak, for I am determined—  Cob. 

No (worthy General) heaven avert  
and arm you with the proof of better thoughts!  
What though a Tyrant strives to terrify  
all Christendom, and would not be beloved;  
let not your fears give impious rage such scope,  
as for to bring Religion to profaneness:  
fortune and heaven will scorn to try a man,  
that hurls his weapons hence and runs away:  
How is he worthy of heaven's victory,  
that, when it frowns, dares not look up and see?  
Me thinks we three are now environed round,  
with hosts of Angels, and our powerful Mars  
is putting bows of steel into our hands:  
he doth suggest our wrath, and bids us on.  
O what an army 'tis to have a cause  
holy and just; there, there's our strength indeed!   

— Tu ment Labantes,  
Direge nos, dubios, et certo Robore firma.   

If we must die, the narrow way to bliss  
shall be made wide for us: the gate's wide ope,  
and the spread Palace entertains with joy.  
Mean time, let's look like men upon our grief,  
our frown fate Despot, Bulgaria, come.  
Turk, once more at thee (Tyrant) mortals must  
command heaven's favour in a case so just. Exeunt.     

Actus 4.  

Scena 1.  Enter Aladin King of Caramania, son in Law to Amurath, with Nobles, Ambassadors from Amurath. Alad. 
Sends our proud father-in-law this greeting to us?  
was our sword sheathed so soon to hear this answer?  Emb. 
My Lord, he bade me tell you that 'twas you  
have made him leave off this great Prophets wars,  
when he was hewing down the Christians;  
therefore submission should not now appease him,  
no, though your wife, his daughter, should herself,  
upon her penitent knees be suppliant.  
No sooner shall the Tyrian splendid Sol  
open heavens Casements, and enlarge the day,  
but his horse hoofs shall beat your treacherous earth;  
and that you may be warned of his approach,  
murder and flames shall be his Prodromo's!  Alad. 
Confederate Princes, and my kind allies,  
shall his proud nostrils breathe those threats on us?  Emb. 
Moreover, my Lord will, or win, or raze,  
Iconium and Larenda.  Alad. 
Iconium and Larenda? I? No more?  
had best look first, how safe his Prusa stands.  
Lords, I am moved, and will forget my Queen  
was ere the issue of his hated blood:  
My spleen is tossed within, mine entrails pant,  
as, when the Sea is raised with Southern gusts,  
the wind allayed, yet still the waves will tremble,  
Princes, now bind yourselves with such strong chains,  
your faith and breaths can make; swear to me all,  
to be as firm to me 'gainst Amurath,  
as is the skin and flesh unto the Nerves; They all kneel, and swear upon his sword.  Nobles. 
We all swear we will.  Alad. 
Then all here kiss my sword,  
which shall be steeped within the headman's throat:  
We'll make him know those will not fly in war,  
which may in policy entreat a peace!  
Hast thy course (time) and soon reduce the year!  
Lucan:— Infestique obvia Signis  
Signa, pares aquilas, & pila minantia pilis.  
Ensigns may Ensigns meet, Carmania's King,  
great Aladin, scorns to avoid a Turk.  
Princes, and Neighbours, muster up your strength,  
that we may meet him on his full Career;  
and let it be Carmanian's pride to say,  
to o'ercome him we ask no second day.   

Scena 2. Actus 4.  Enter Amurath at one door with Nobles, Bajazet; Enter at th'other, Hatum, richly attended, they meet, salute in dumb shows; Amurath joins the hands of the Prince and Princess; whilst this is solemnising, is sung to soft Music, this Song following. 

SONG.  

Thine O Hymen, thine is she,  
Whose Beauties verse Calliope,  
Sing to Marriage ties an Io;  
Io to Hymen.   Chorus. 

To thee Apollo is my suit,  
Lend me a while thy silver Lute,  
O what a woe it is to bring,  
A Bride to Bed and never sing,  
Io to Hymen.   Ambo. 

When she's old, still seems she young,  
When she's weak, to her be strong!  
Be Cyprus, both, and Paphos here,  
Love, sing with merry cheer,  
Io to Hymen.    Amur. 
You Gods of Marriage, sacred Protectoress  
of lawful propagations, and blessed Love,  
be most propitious to these grafted stems;  
drop dewing showers of generation on them.  
Think (Son) this day so prodigal of blessing,  
as, that had Juno tasked thee (like Alcides)  
to grapple with Stymphalideses, or cleanse  
Augean stables: or like the Trojan Boy,  
sit like a Shepherd on Dardania's hills,  
such a reward as this fair Queen repays.  
O thou hoped future offspring, spare thy Parent!  
Hurt not this tender womb, these Ivory worlds,  
in which a pretty people yet shall live  
when you are born; O be within your limbs  
the Grandsire, Amurath, and father's strength;  
line their faces (Nature) with their mother's die:  
And let the destinies make the ensuing night  
in their Eternal Books, with notes most white.  All. 
Grant it great Mahomet.  Hat. 
Most awful father, and my honoured Prince,  
although it be enacted by the heavens,  
that in these bonds of marriage, such curse  
attends on Princes above private men,  
that no affection, nor home-nourished Love  
but state and policy must elect their wives,  
which must be fetched from Countries far remote;  
yet the protecting Powers have such a care,  
both of their offsprings and their Kingdom's state.  
That to what they ordain, they work in us  
a sudden willingness to makes obey;  
for in this breast, I do already feel  
that there's a kindling a Diviner heat,  
which disobedience never shall extinguish.  
And if there be any felicity  
from these united Loves to be derived  
from the weak sex unto the husband's soul,  
then may my Lord make his affection sure,  
to be repaid with an untainted Love.  
With soft and yielding courtesy in all  
he shall command, my willing arms shall still  
be ope t'enfold within a wives embrace,  
if any comfort else there be in store,  
(which modesty keeps silent to itself  
cause only husbands and the night must know't)  
my Loyalty shall ever all perform:  
and though my Lord should frown, I'll be the same,  
green wood will burn with a continued flame:  Baja. 
Princess, our ardour is already fired,  
yet with no violent temerity;  
such as might fear it's short and soon decaying:  
thy virtue seems so to exceed thy Sex,  
and wisdom so far to outpace thy years,  
that, surely (Princess) soon maturity,  
argues in them hidden Divinity.  
Expected Hymen here hath bound our hands  
and hearts, with everlasting ligaments:  
Fortunate both we are, and have one bliss,  
the want of which for ever doth infect  
with anxious cares the sweets of marriage beds:  
our parent's benediction and consent,  
they are the truest Hymens, and should be  
to children the best marriage Deity.  
Thus then attended with such sacred charms  
our last day of content shall never come;  
till we must part by th'unresisted doom,  
with a pleased error we will age beguile,  
all stars on us, an equal yoke, must smile,  Amu. 
Now (Lords) who'll dance  
a Turkish measure? Ladies our nerves are shrunk;  
and you now fix the sign of age on me,  
you, who have blood still flowing in your veins,  
be nimble as an Hart: Caper t' the Spheres:  
O you are light, that want the weight of years! Music  Here Amurath ascends his Throne, the rest set down to dance, Bajazet with Hatum, etc. the end of the dance, all kneel, Amur. gins an health, a flourish with Cornets. Amu. 
And health to our Bride and her father:  
O (Nobles) would this wine were Christians blood,  
but that it would Frenetic humours breed,  
and so infect our brains with Superstition!  Enter Eurenoses with six Christian Maidens, richly attired, their Hair hanging lose, in their hands Cups of Gold with Jewels, etc. Eure. 
Auspicious fortunes to great Amurath:  
to open more springs to this full-tide of joy,  
know (potent Emperor) I from Europe bring  
six daughters of six several Kings,  
whose Cities we have equalled to the ground;  
and of their Palaces did torches make,  
to light their souls through the black cave of death.  Am. 
Describe (good Captain) how the dogs were wearied.  Eure. 
So weary were they to endure our swords,  
that by impetuous mutiny themselves  
turned on each other, slew their Masters;  
children's own hands tore out their father's throats,  
and each one strove who should be slaughtered first;  
Here did a brother pash out a brother's brains,  
some in stinking Quagmires, and deep Lakes  
(which they had made t'avoid their excrements)  
ran quick, and in the lake lay buried.  Am. 
Good Executioner of our most just wrath!  Eur. 
Nor did it leave till death itself was weary,  
murder grew faint, and each succeeding day  
showed us the slaughter of the day before.  
'Mongst carcases and funerals we stood,  
denying those that lived such Ceremonies  
as in their Temples to the Indian gods,  
with prayers and vows they daily offered:  
Nor destiny, nor cruelty ere left,  
till they had nothing for to work upon;  
for, of so many souls that breathed of late,  
these six are all remain: which as a Pledge  
of my best service to your Majesty,  
I here am bold to yield an offer.  Amu. 
Nor shall this present be unrecompensed;  
for thy true service, on thee I'll bestow  
all the rich gifts, which all these Asian Lords  
brought to adorn these happy Nuptials;  
on you fair Bride, great Princess, and our Daughter  
do we bestow these Virgins (daughters to Kings)  
for your attendance.  Hat. 
We are two much bound unto our Princely Father  Amu. 
No (Daughter) no, we hope thou art the spring  
from whence shall flow to all the world a King.  
Captains and Lords, to morrow we must meet,  
to think of our rebellious son in Law.  
Be this time all for comfort and delight,  
short wedding days make it seem long to night. Exeunt omnes.   

Scena 3. Actus 4.  Enter Lazartis and Cobelitz, bringing the dead body of Sasmenos. Laz. 
Here set we down our miserable load,  
O Cobelitz, with whom is't that we fight?  
With Lybian Lions? Or Hyrcanian Bears,  
which grind us daily in their ravenous teeth?  
The Tyrant (as it were destruction's Engineer)  
helps Nature to destroy the world's frame quickly.  Cob. 
Alas, my Lord, that needs not, every day  
is a sufficient helper to decay:  
Great workman, who art sparing in thy strength  
to bring things to perfection: and to o'erturn  
all thy best works, thou usest sudden force.  
when man's an Embryo and first conceived,  
how long 'tis ere he sees his native light?  
Then born, with expectation for his growth,  
tenderly nourished, carefully brought up:  
grown to perfection, what a little thing  
serves to call on his sudden ruining?  Laz. 
Come Cobelitz, 'mongst those demolished stones  
we'll sit as Hecuba, at those Trojan walls:  
our tears shall be false glasses to our eyes,  
through these we'll look, and think we yet may see  
our stately Pinnacles, and strong founded holds:  
that which one hour can dilapidate,  
one age can scarce repair.  Col. 
No sir, for nothing's hard  
to Nature, when she means for to consume:  
A thousand Oaks (which time hath fixed i'th' earth,  
as Monuments of lasting memory)  
are in a moment turned to ashes; all  
things that rise slowly, take a sudden fall.  Laz. 
What course now, Cobelitz? must we still be yoked  
to misery, and murder? We scarce have room  
upon our bodies to receive more wounds,  
and must we still oppose ourselves to more?  Cob. 
Yes! We are ready still; a solid mind  
must not be shaked with every blast of wind.  
Pollux, nor Hercules, had none other art,  
to get them Mansions in the Spangled heavens  
then a true firm resolve; th' Adriatic Sea,  
shall from his currents with tempestuous blasts  
be sooner moved, than virtue from its aim.  
Let us but think (when we so many see  
enjoying greater quiet than our themselves)  
how many have endured more misery;  
Ilium, Ilium, what a fate hadst thou?  
How fruitful wert thou in matter for thy foe?  
Thus we'll delude our grief, make ourselves glad,  
to think of miseries that others had.  Laz. 
Ay, (Captain) ay; they that furnish thee  
with sentences of comfort, never saw,  
their Cities burnt, their Country's desolate.  
'Tis easy for Physicians for to tell  
advice to others, when themselves are well.  Cob. 
Tush, tush (my Lord) there's on our side we know,  
one that both can, and will our weak hands guide,  
one that will strike and thunder; Giant then,  
look for a dart! we must not appoint when;  
mean while help to convey this burden hence.  
Turk, though thy tyranny deny us graves,  
corruption will give them spite of thee:  
Nor do our corpse, such Tombs and Caverns need:  
for our own flesh, still our own graves do breed:  
And, whom the earth receives not when they die,  
heaven's vault overwhelms them, so their tomb's ith'skie. Exeunt with a dead Trunk.   

Actus 4. Scena 4.  Enter Aladin as flying, an arrow through his arm, wounded in his forehead, his shield stuck with darts: With him two Nobles. Alad. 
Besieged on every side? Iconium taken?  
Entrenched within my foes myself must lie  
wrapped in my City's ruin. Turks come on.  1. Nob. 
Nay but my Lord, mean you to meet your death?  
let's hast our flight, and trust more to our feet  
then words, or hands—  Alad. 
Why so much of our blood  
is already spilt, as should the glittering Sun  
exhale it upward, 'twould obnubulate  
It's lustre, else to fiery Meteors turn.  
some counsel (Lords) he that's amidst the Sea,  
when every curled wave doth threat his death,  
yet trusts upon the oars of his own arms,  
and sometime the salt foam doth pity him.  
A Wolf, or Lion, that hath filled his gorge  
with bloody prey, at last will lie to sleep,  
and the unnatural'st creatures not forget  
their love to those whom they do know their own:  
My wife's his daughter; since we cannot stand  
his fury longer, she shall suage his wrath.  
The boisterous Ocean when no winds oppose,  
grows calm: revenge is lost, when't hath no foes.  2. Nob. 
Why then (my Lord) array yourself in weeds  
of a Petitioner: take the Queen along,  
and your two children; they may move his eyes;  
for, desperate sores ask desperate remedies.  Ala. 
Go (Lords) go: fetch some strait. O heavens!  
O fortune, they that lean on thy cracked wheel,  
and trust a Kingdom's power, and domineer  
in a walled Palace, let them look on me,  
and thee (Carmania;) greater instances  
the world affords not to demonstrate  
the frail estate of proudest Potentates,  
of sturdiest Monarchies: high Pinnacles  
are still invaded with the prouder winds;  
they must endure the threats of every blast;  
the tops of Caucasus and Pindus shake  
with every crack of thunder; humble Vaults  
are ne'er touched with a bolt: ambiguous wings  
hath all the state, that hovers over Kings.  Enter the 2. Nobles with a winding sheet, Aladin puts it on. 
I, I, this vesture sits my misery!  
this badge of poverty must now prevail,  
where all my Kingdom's power and strength doth fail.  
Why should not a prophetic soul attend  
on great men's persons, and forewarn their ills?  
Raging Boötes doth doth not so turmoil  
the Lybian ford, as Fortune doth great hearts.  
Bellona and Erynnis scourge us on;  
should wars and treasons cease, why our own weight  
would send us to the earth, as spreading arms  
make the huge trees in tempest for to split.  
For as the slaughterman to pasture goes,  
and drags that Ox home first, whose Bulk is greatest,  
the lean he still let's feed: disease takes hold  
on bodies that are pampered with best fare;  
so doth all ruin choose the fairest marks,  
at which it bends, and strikes it full of shafts;  
ambition made me now that eminent Butt:  
And I that fell by mine own strength, must rise  
by professed weakness; Buckets full sink down,  
whilst th'empty dance i'th' air and cannot drown.  
Come (Lords) he out of's way can never range,  
who is at furthest; worst ne'er finds ill change.    

Actus 5.  

Scena 1.  Enter at one door Amurath, with attendants; at the other door Aladin, his Wife, two Children, all in white sheets, kneel down to Amurath. Am. 
Our hate must not part thus; I'll tell thee (Prince)  
thou ' hast kindled violent Aetna in our breast,  
and such a flame is quenched with nought but blood:  
His blood whose hasty and rebellious blast▪  
gave life unto the fire; should heaven threat us;  
know, we dare menace it; are we not Amurath?  
(whose awful name is even trembled at)  
so often dared by Pigmy Christians;  
which we will crush to air? what haughty thought  
buzzed thy presumptuous ears with such vain blasts,  
to puff thee into such impetuous acts?  
or what, durst prompt thee with a thought so frail,  
as made thee covetous of so brave a death,  
as this known hand should cause it? know, that throat  
shall feel it strangled with some slave brought up  
to nought but for an Hangman: thy last breath,  
torn from thee by a hand that's worse than death.  Alad. 
Why then, I'll (like the Roman Pompey) hid  
my dying sight, scorning imperious looks  
should grace so base a stroke with sad aspect;  
thus will I muffle up and choke my groans,  
lest a grieved tear should quite put out the name  
of lasting courage in Carmania's fame.  Am. 
What? still stiff necked? Is this the truce you beg?  
Sprinkled before thy face those Rebel Brats,  
shall have their brains, and their dissected limbs,  
hurled for a prey to Kites; for (Lords) 'tis fit  
no spark of such a mountain threatening fire,  
be left as unextinct, lest it devour,  
and prove more hot unto the Turkish Empire,  
than the Promethean blaze did trouble Jove!  
first sacrifice those Brats.—  All. Wife. 
(Dear father) let thy fury rush on me;  
within these entrails sheathe thine unsatiate sword,  
and let this ominous, and too fruitful womb  
be torn insunder, for from thence those Babes,  
took all their crimes; error made them guilty,  
'twas Nature's fault, not theirs: O if affection  
can work, than now show a true father's love;  
if not, appease those murdering thoughts with me:  
For as Jocasta pleaded with her sons  
for their dear Father, so to a Father I  
for my dear babes and husband; husband, father,  
Which shall I first embrace? Victorior's father,  
be blunt those now sharp thoughts, lay down those threats,  
unclasp that impious Helmet; fix to earth  
that monumental Spear, look on thy child  
with pardoning looks, not with a warrior's eye:  
Else shall my breast cover my husband's breast,  
and serve as buckler to receive thy wounds.  
Why dost thou doubt? Fearest thou thy daughter's faith?  Amu. 
I fear, for after Daughter's perjury,  
all Laws of Nature shall distasteful be;  
nor will I trust thy children or thyself.  Wife. 
No Father, 'tis I: fear you him, he you,  
I both, but for you both, for both you war;  
so that 'tis best with him that's overcome.  
O let me kiss (kind father) first the earth  
on which you tread, then kiss mine husband's cheek.  
Great King embrace these babes, you are the stock  
on which these Grafts were planted—  Amu. 
True, and when sprouts do rob the tree of sap,  
they must be pruned.  Wife. 
Dear Father, leave such harsh similitudes:  
By my deceased Mother, (to whose womb  
I was a ten month's burden:) By yourself,  
(to whom I was a pleasing Infant once)  
pity my husband, and these tender Infants.  Amu. 
Yes, to have them collect a manly strength,  
and their first lesson that their Dad shall teach them  
shall be to read my misery.  All. 
Stern Conqueror: but that thy daughter shows,  
there once dwelled good in that obdurate breast,  
I would not spend a tear to soften thee.  
Thou seest my Countries turned into a grave:  
my Cities scare the Sun with fiercer flames,  
which turn them into ashes, and myself  
so flick and carved, that my amazed blood  
knows not through which wound first to take it's way;  
if not on me, have mercy on my babes,—  
which, with thy mercy thou mayst turn to Love.  Amu. 
No sir, we must root out malicious seed:  
nothing sprouts faster, than an envious weed!  
We see a little Bullock, 'mongst an Herd  
(whose horns are yet scarce crept from out his front)  
grows on a sudden tall, and in the Field,  
frolicks so much, he makes his Father yield.  
A little Twig left budding on an Elm,  
ungratefully bars his Mother sight from Heaven!  
I love not future Aladins.  Alad. 
Threat all a Conqueror can, canst threat but death,  
and I can die: but if thou wouldst have mercy!—  Wife. 
Let's see your feet, we're proud with this hands kiss!  
The higher those great powers have raised you,  
press that which lies below with gentler weight:  
to pardon miseries is Fortune's height:  
alas, these infants, these weak sinewed hands  
can be no terror to these Hector's arms!  
Beg (Infants) beg, and teach these tender joints  
to ask for mercy; learn your lisping tongues  
to give due accent to each syllable:  
nothing that Fortune urgeth to, is base;  
put from your thoughts all memory of descent:  
forget the Princely Titles of your Fathers:  
if your own misery you cannot feel,  
learn thus of me to weep, of me to kneel.  Al. 
Do (boys) and imitate your Parents tears,  
which I (like Priam) shed, when he beheld,  
Hector thrice dragged about the Trojan Walls.  
He that burst open the Gates of Erebus,  
and roused the yelling Monster from his Den,  
was conquered with a tear. Great Monarch learn,  
To know how dear a King doth weeping earn.  1. Ch. 
Good Grandsire see, see how my Father cries!  2. Ch. 
Good Mother take my napkin for your eyes!  Wife. 
(Good father) hear, hear how thy daughter prays!  
Thou that knowst how to use stern Warrior's arms,  
learn how to use mild Warriors pity too.  
Alas? Can ere these ungrown strengths repair  
their Father's battered Cities? Or can these,  
these o'erthrown Turrets? (Iconium) what small hopes  
hast thou to lean upon? If these be all?  
Not half so mild hath our misfortune been  
that any can ere fear us: Be pleased—  Am. 
Rise (my dear Child) as Marble against rain,  
so I at these obedient showers, melt;  
thus I do raise thy Husband: thus thy Babes:  
freely admitting you to former State.  
But Aladin, wake not our wrath again;  
" Patience grows fury that is often stirred;  
when Conquerors wax calm, and cease to hate,  
the conquered should not dare to reiterate.  
Be thou our Son and Friend.  Alad. 
By all the Rites of Mahomet, I vow it.  Am. 
Then, for to seal unto you this our love,  
yourself shall lead a wing in Servia,  
in our immediate Wars; we are to meet  
the Christians in Cassano's Plains with speed:  
Great Amurath ne'er had time to breath himself,  
so much as to have warring with new Foes;  
no day securely to his Sceptre shone,  
but one Wars end, still brought another on. Exeunt.   

Actus 5. Scena 2.  Enter Lazarus, Cobelitz, Soldiers, all armed. Cob. 
Let now victorious wreathes engird our brows,  
let Angels 'stead of Soldiers wield our arms  
'gainst him, who that our Cities might be his,  
strives to depopulate, and make them none!  
But look, look in the air (me thinks) I see  
an Host of Soldiers brandishing their Swords;  
each corner of the Heaven shoots thunderbolts,  
to nail these impious forces to the Earth.  Laz. 
Soldiers stand to't, though fortune bandy at's,  
let's stand her shocks, like sturdy Rocks i'th' Sea,  
on which the angry foaming Billows beat,  
with frivolous rush, and break themselves, not them;  
stand like the undaunted countenance o'th' sky,  
or, like the Sun, which when the foolish King,  
thought to obscure with a cloud of darts,  
out looked them all, our lives are all enchanted,  
and more invulnerate than Thetis Son.  
We shall have hands and weapons: if the stone  
of Fortune glide from under our weak feet,  
and we must fall, yet, let all Christians say,  
'Tis She, and not the Cause, that wins the day.  
We must believe Heaven hath a greater care  
of them, whom Fortune doth so oft out dare!  Cob. 
Gentlemen, Brothers, Friends, Soldiers, Christians,  
we have no reason to command of Heaven  
a thing denied to all mortality.  
Nor should we be so impudently proud,  
as in this weak condition to repute  
ourselves above the stroke of Lady Chance,  
a caution must divine it, ever fixed,  
that whilst her checks equally fall out,  
community should ease their bitterness.  
I could afresh now shed those Princely tears,  
to think such sudden ruin should attend  
Heroic spirits glittering in bright arms!  
But if the Grecian (when he heard the dreams  
disputed subtly by Philosophers,  
to prove innumerable extant worlds)  
was struck with pensiveness, and wept to think  
he had not yet obtained one for himself;  
what terror can affright a Christians thoughts  
who knows there is a world, at liberty  
to breath in, when this glass of life is broke?  
our Foes with circling fury are entrenched;  
Pelions of Earth and darkness shall o'erlade them,  
whilst we shall mount, and these our spirits light,  
shall be yet ponderous to depress them lower.  
Nay, my Enthusiastic soul divines,  
That some weak hand shall from the blazing Zone  
snatch Lightning, which shall strike the snarling Cur  
with horror and amazement to the Earth,  
which Hell cannot oppose! Turk, Tyrannize,  
stand, yet at length to fall my sacrifice.  
Super Olympic vigour will (no doubt).  
squeeze all thy supercilious rancour out! Exeunt in a March.   

Scena 3. Actus 5.  The Heavens seem on fire, Comets and blazing Stars appear, Amurath speaks. Am. 
Who set the world on fire?  
How now (ye Heavens) grow you  
so proud, that you must needs put on curled locks,  
and cloth yourselves in Periwigs of fire?  
Mahomet (say not but I invoke thee now!)  
command the puny-Christians demigod  
put out those flashing sparks, those Ignes fatui,  
or I'll unseat him, or with my Looks so shake  
the staggering props of his weak seated Throne,  
that he shall find he shall have more to do  
to quell one Amurath, than the whole Giant brood  
of those same Sons of Earth, than ten Lycaon's.  
Do the poor snacks so love their misery  
that they would see it by these threatening lights?  
Dare ye blaze still? I'll toss up Buckets full  
of Christians blood to quench you: by those hairs  
drag you beneath the Centre: there put out  
all your presaging flames in Phlegeton.  
Can you outbrave me with your piddling Lights?  
Yawn earth with Casements as wide as hell itself. Vault opens.  
Burn heaven as ardent as the Lemnian flames,  
wake pale Tisiphone, spend all thy snakes;  
Be Aeacus, and Minos, as severe  
as if the Goal delivery of us all  
were the next Sessions. I'll pull Radamant  
by his flaming furs from out his Iron Chair.  Whilst he is in his fury, arise four Fiends, framed like Turkish Kings, but black, his supposed Predecessors dance about him; to a kind of hideous noise, sing this Song following. 
1. Fiend. 
Horror, dismal cries, and yells  
Of these thy Grandsires thee foretells,  
Furies sent of thee to learn  
Crimes, which they could ne'er discern.  All. 
Furies sent, etc.  2. Fiend. 
O Amurath thy Father's come,  
To warn thee of a sudden doom,  
Which in Cassano's fields attends  
To bring thee to thy hellish friends.  All. 
Which in Cassanoes, etc.  3. Fiend. 
Megaera and Enyo both do stand  
Trembling lest when thou art damned,  
Chief of Furies thou shouldst be,  
And they their snakes resign to thee.  All. 
Chief of Furies, etc.  4. Fiend. 
Terror, we a while will leave thee,  
Till Cocytus' Lake receive thee.  
Cerberus will quake for fear  
Where he a new Turk's fate shall hear.  All. 
Cerberus' will, etc.   Amu. 
Now who the devil sent my Grandsires hither?  
Had Pluto no task else to set them too?  
He should have bound them to Ixion's wheel,  
or bid them roll the stone of Sisyphus:  
Beshrew me, but their singing did not please me!  
Have they not been so drunk with Lethe yet,  
as to forget me? They can portend no ill;  
for, should the fates be twining my last thread,  
yet none durst come from hell to tell me so.  
Shall I be scared with a Nightwalking Ghost;  
or what my working fancy shall present?  
Why, I can look more terrible than night,  
and command darkness in the unwilling day:  
Make Hecate start, and draw back her head  
to wrap it in a swarthy veil of clouds.  
Drop sheets of Sulphur, you prodigious skies,  
Cyclops, run all thy Bullets into Aetna,  
then vomit them at once; should Christians  
couch to the bottomless abyss of Styx,  
or hid themselves under Avernus' shade,  
this arm should fetch them out. Day must perform  
what I intent, wrath rain a bloody storm:  
And now, begins rise the Sun, which yet not knows  
the misery it shall see on Amurath's Foes!  
Lords, Leaders, Captains— Enter Schahin and others.  Scha. 
Your Highness up so soon?  Amu. 
He small rest takes,  
that dreams on nought but bloody broils and death.  Schah. 
Your Grace seems much distempered: Beds of sweat  
bedew your brows with never-wonted paleness  Am. 
Why; see you not? The heavens are turned Court Ladies,  
and put on other Hair besides their own:  
canst guests (learned Schahin) what these flames portend?  Schah. 
My Lord, such things as these, we men must see,  
and wonder at, and yet not search the reason;  
perchance unwholesome fogs exhaled by th' Sun  
are set a blazing by his too near heat:  
but 'tis not lawful that a mortal eye  
should dare to penetrate Heaven's secrecy.  Am. 
Doth it not bode a Conquest?  Schah. 
Yes, 'gainst the Christians:  
for, unto them it bends sinister looks,  
and frowns upon their Army more than ours.  Amur. 
So, so: come on, ere Phosphorus appear  
let's too't, and so prevent that sluggard Sol.  
If we want Light, we'll from our Whinyards  
strike fire enough to scorch the Universe;  
Mine Armour there! Some go for his Armour.  
Now (Mahomet) I implore  
thy promised Aid for this auspicious day:  
toss me aloft, and make me ride on Clouds:  
If my Horse fail me, those fire breathing jades,  
(which the boy Phaëthon knew not how to guide)  
will I pluck out from out the flaming Team,  
and hurl myself against those condense Spheres,  
on which I'll sit, and stay their turning Orbs;  
the whole vertigious Circle shall stand still,  
but to behold me: Mine Armour, ho! They bring his Armour.  
So, help on here; now like Alcides do I girt myself  
with well knit sinews, able to stagger Earth,  
and threaten Nature with a second Chaos:  
If one impetuous broil remain to come  
in future ages, set on foot this hour.  
How well this weight of steel bends my strength!  
Me thinks the Gods stand quivering, and do fear  
(when I am armed) another Phlege●'s near.  
Chiron shall see his Piadus at my feet;  
And I'll climb up to heaven, and pull it down  
and kick the weighty burden of the world,  
from off the Babies shoulders that supports it.  
for I am safer Buckled 'gainst my foe,  
then sturdy Jason, who by th' enchanted charms  
Medea gave, encountered Unicorns,  
Quelled Lions, struggled with fire-belching Bulls,  
obtained a glorious prize, a Fleece. A Fleece  
dipped deep in tincture of the Christ'ans blood  
shall be my spoil; nay should they hid their heads  
in their God's bosom, here's a sword shall reach them.  
Come they shall know no place is free from wrath,  
when boiling blood is stirred in Amurath. Exeunt.  An alarm, excursions: fight within. Enter at one door a Christian, at another a Turk; fight, both killed, so a new charge, the Turks kill most. Enter Lazarus, Schahin kills him. Enter Eurenoses, Cobelitz, they fight, Cobelitz faints, falls for dead. A shout within, a token of Victory on the Turks side, a Retreat sounded.  

Scena 4. Actus 5.  Enter above Amurath, Bajazet, Nobles, to see the spoil. Schah. 
Here, mighty Prince, take view of Victory,  
and see the field too narrow for thy spoils.  
Erynnus hides her head as if afraid,  
to see a slaughter she durst never hope for.  
Earth hath the Carcases: and denies them Graves,  
and lets them lie and rot, and fat her womb,  
scorning to be unto the slaves a Tomb.  Am. 
Where are become those ominous Comets now?  
What? are those pissing Candles quite extinct?  
leave their disastrous snuffs no stench behind them?  
'tis something yet, that their God seethe their slaughter,  
lending sulphurous Meteors to behold  
the blessed destruction of these Parasites.  
I knew the Elements would first untie  
the Nerves of th' Universe, then let me die.  Here Cobelitz riseth as awaked, amazed, leaning on his Sword, stumbling o'er the dead bodies, looks towards Amurath. Euren. 
See (King) here's one worm yet that dare confess  
he breathes and lives, which once this hand crushed down.  Amur. 
Ha', ha', by Mahomet, and we are weary now:  
Some Mercy shall lay Victory asleep.  
It will a Laureate prove to this great strife,  
'mongst all these murdered to give one his life,  
so we'll descend. He goeth from aloft.  Cob. 
From what a dismal grave am I awaked,  
entombed within a Golgatha of men!  
Have all these Souls prevented me in bless,  
and left me in a dream of happiness?  
But soft! me thoughts he said he would descend!  
Then, Heavens, one minutes breath, that's all I ask,  
and then I shall perform my life's true task.  Amurath descends on the Stage, Cobelitz staggers towards him. Amur. 
Poor slave, wouldst live?  Here Cobelitz is come to him, seeming to kneel, stabs him with a pocket Dagger. Cob. 
Yes Turk to see thee die.  
howl, howl, grim Tartar, yell (thou grisly Wolf)  
force forth the blood from out thy gaping Wound!  
Dii tibi non mortem, quae cunctis poena paratur,  
Sed sensum post fata, tuae dent (impie) morti.  Amur. 
My spirit makes me not to feel thy weapon!  
Hold, you cracked Organs, of my shattered life,  
I them not touched yet; can I not mock my death,  
and think 'tis but a dream tells me I them hurt?  
Darest thou then leave me (blood?) Canst be so bold  
as to forsake these veins to flow on Earth?  
And must I, like th'unhappy Roman, die  
by a slaves hand?  Cob. 
Tyrant, 'tis known  
He's Lord of others lives that scorns his own.  Am. 
I that could scarce ere sleep, can I ere die?  
And will none fear my life when I am dead;  
Tortures and torments for the murderer.  Cob. 
Ha', ha', ha'! Leaning on his sword.  
I thank thee (great omnipotent) that I  
shall here laugh out the lag end of my life!  Am. 
Villain, thy laugh wounds worse than did thy Dagger.  
Are you Lethargic (Lords) in cruelty?  Cob. 
Nay, hear me (Turk) now will I prompt their rage:  
Lock me up in the Bull of Phalaris,  
cut off these eyelids, bid me then outgaze  
the parching Sunbeams; flay this tender skin,  
set nests of Hornets on my rawest flesh,  
let the Siconian Clouds drop brimstone on me,  
powre boiling Lemnos on my greenest wounds,  
put on my shoulder Nessus poisoned shirt,  
bind all these bloody faces to my face,  
Rack me, Procrustes like— The Lord that holds up Amurath offers to touch his wounds.  Amur. 
Hell, oh! I cannot brook your smallest touch.  Cob. 
Ha', Ha! each groan is Balsam to my wounds:  
I am perfect well. Bajazet offers to kill Gobelitz; a Nobleman holds his hand.  Schah. 
Rascal, darest deride us?  Cob. 
Yea? and while your witty furies shall invent  
for me some never heard of punishment;  
I see a guard of Saints ready to take me hence.  
Take then free flight my new rewarded soul,  
and seat thee on the winged Seraphims,  
hast to the Empyreum, where thy welcome  
shall be an Hallelujah, anthemed forth  
By the Chorus of the Angel-hierarchy.  
Pierce with swift plumes, the concave paths o'th' Moon  
Where the black air enlightened is with stars.  
Stay not to wonder there at wand'ring Signs,  
at bi-horned Gemini, or Amphion's Harp,  
at Arctos, or Boötes, or the Bear,  
(Which are to please wizard Astrologers:)  
Soar higher with thy pitch, and then look down  
to laugh at the hard trifles of the world;  
Perchance some oft have known a better life,  
Never did one ere leav' it more willingly.  Am. 
Fear your death (Gods!) for I have lost my life,  
and what, I most complain, my tyranny.  Cob. 
Soul, to detain thee from thy wished rest!  
were but an envious part! arise, farewell:  
To stay thee to accuse or fate or man,  
would show I were unwilling yet to leave thee.  
But dear companion hence: cut through the air  
let not the grossness of my Earth o'er-lime  
thy speedy wings, fly without weight of crime. He dies.  Am. 
O, now have I and Fortune tried it out.  
With all her best of favours was I crowned  
and suffered her worst threats, when most she frowned.  
Stay (Soul! a King, a Turk, commands thee stay.  
Sure I am but an actor, and must strive  
to personate the Tragic ends of Kings.  
And so (to win applause unto the Scene)  
with feigned passion thus must grasp at death.  
O but I see pale Nemesis at hand:  
Art thou dull, fate, and dost not overspread  
Cimmerian wings of death throughout the world;  
What? Not one Earthquake? One blazing Comet  
T'accompany my soul t' his Funeral?  
Is not this hour the general period  
to ne'er returning time! Last breath command  
a new Deacalion's deluge, that with me  
the world may swim to his Eternal Grave.  
Crack hinge that holds this globe, and welcome death.  
Wilt thou not stay Soul? Friend, not stay with Kings?  
Sink then, and sink beneath the Thracian Mount.  
Sink beneath Athos, be the Brackish Waves  
Of Acheron thy Tomb; I'll want a Grave;  
So all parts fear, which first my Corpse shall have;  
For in my Grave, I'll be the Christians foe,  
here like a massy pyramid I'll fall,  
I'll strive to sink all the whole fabric with me:  
quake pluto, for 'tis I that come  
a turk, tyrant, and a conqueror.  
and with this groan, like thunder will I cleave,  
the timorous earth, whilst thus my last I breath. He dies.  Bajaz. 
O easy powers, to give us all at first,  
but in their loss, they make us most accursed. Here all the Nobles kneel to Bajazet.  Schah. 
The Taper of your Father's life is spent;  
We must have light still and adore a Sun.  
that next is rising; therefore mighty Prince,  
upon your shoulders must the ponderous load  
of Empire rest.  Bajaz. 
Why (Lords) we have a Brother,  
who, as in the same blood he took a share,  
so let him bear his part in Government.  Sch. 
My Lord, within the selfsame Hemisphere  
It's most prodigious when two Suns appear.  
One body by one soul must be informed.  
Kingdom's like (marriage beds) must not endure  
any corrival. Rome was ne'er secure  
whilst she contained a Pompey; and a Caesar.  
Like as one Prophet we acknowledge now,  
so of one King in state we must allow.  
You know the Turkish Laws, Prince be not nice  
to purchase Kingdoms, whatsoe'er the price.  
He must be lopped, send for him he must die.  Bajazet. 
O happy Bajazet, that he was borne  
to be a King when thou wast Counsellor.  
Call in our Brother Jacup. Some go for him.  Here six men take up Amurath's Trunk on their shoulders. Baj. 
Why (Lords!) is Amurath so light a weight?  
Is this the Trunk o'th' Turkish Emperor?  
Oh what a heap of thoughts are come to naught?  
What a light weight is he unto six men,  
who durst stand under Ossa, and sustain 't?  Euren. 
My Lord, these Meditations fit not you:  
You are to take the honour he hath left,  
and think you of his rising, not his fall! Enter Jacup.  
Let your decree be sudden, here's your Brother.  Baj. 
Brother, I could have wished we might have met  
at times of better greeting! Our father hath  
bequeathed to the Grave these ashes, to us his State.  
Nor have we leisure (yet) to mourn for him.  
Brother, you know our state hath made a Law,  
that, he that sits in a Majestic Chair,  
must not endure the next succeeding heir.  Jac. 
Yes, we do:  
And, Brother, do you think 'tis crime enough  
to die, because I am son to an Emperor?  Scah. 
My Lord, we know there breathes in him that air  
of true affection, that he doth much desire  
you should be equal in his Kingdom with him:  
But still when two great evils are proposed;  
the less is to be chosen.  Euren. 
My Lord, your life 's but one:  
Kings are the threads whereto there are inweaved  
millions of lives, and he that must rule all  
must still be one that is select from all.  
Although we speak, yet think them not our words,  
But what the Land speaks in us! King's are free;  
And must be impatient of equality.  Jac. 
And is't e'en so?  
How have these Dogs fawned on me, licked my feet  
when Amurath yet lived! Felt all my thoughts,  
and soothed them to the sight of Empire!  
And now the first would set their politic hands  
to strangle up that breath, a blast of which  
their nostrils have sucked up like perfumed air.  
Well brother well, by all men this is spoke,  
that heart that cannot bow, may yet be broke.  Bajazet. 
Brother, you must not now stand to upbraid;  
They which do fear the vulgars' murmuring tongue,  
Must also fear th' authority of a King;  
For rulers must esteem it happiness,  
that with their government they can hate suppress:  
they with too faint a hand the Sceptres sway,  
Who regard love, or what the people say:  
To Kindred we must quite put off respect,  
when it is so near it may our Crown affect.  Jac. 
Then name of Brother do I thus shake off,  
for it is in vain their mercy to implore,  
when impious Statists have decreed before.  
Yet King, although thou take my life away  
see how I'll die in better state than thou!  
Who like (my Father) after his greatest glory  
May fall by some base hand: The Minister.  
'To take my breath, shall be thyself a King.  Here Jacup takes a Scarf from his Arm, and putting it about his neck gives one end to Bajazet. 
Yet give me leave a while to Prophesy.  
You that so Puppetlike delude your hopes,  
and Wire-draw the ancestry from Kings,  
thinking, that fates dare not approach your bloud  
till they do seize you, than you leave this Earth,  
Not as you went, but by compulsion dragged;  
Still begging for a morrow from your Grave,  
and with such shifts you do deceive yourselves,  
as if you could deceive mortality,  
No (Brother King) not all the Glow-worm state,  
which makes thee be a Horseleech to thy blood,  
Not all the Parasitest ' Minions thou maintainst,  
nor the restorative Dishes that are found out.  
Not all thy shifts and tricks can cheat mortality,  
or keep thee from a death that's worse than mine.  
Should all this fail, age would profess itself  
a slow, but a sure Executioner.  
O 'tis a hard thing well to temperate  
decaying happiness in great estate.  
But this example by me may you gain,  
that at my death! not of Heaven complain.  
Pull then, and with my fall pull on thyself  
Mountains of burdenous honour, which shall curse thee.  
Death leads the willing by the hand  
But spurs them headlong on, that dare command.  Here himself pulls one end, Bajazet the other, Jacup. dies. Bajazet. 
Take up this Trunk; and let us first appoint  
our Fathers, and our Brother's Funerals.  
the sense less body of that Caitiff slave,  
hurl to a Ditch. Posterity shall hear  
Our less ill Chronicled, but time shall hear  
these minutes rather, then repeat their woe.  
Now Primacy, on thee I'll mediate,  
Which who enjoy thee, are in blessed estate.  
Whose age in secure silence fleets away,  
Without disturbance to his funeral day;  
Nor ponderous nor unquiet honours can  
Vex him, but dies a primare ancient man.  
What greater powers threaten inferior men,  
a greater power threatens him again:  
And like to wasted Tapers Kings must spend  
their lives to light up others: So all end.  Exeunt bearing out solemnly the bodies of Amurath and Jacup.   
FINIS.   

THE TRAGEDY OF ORESTES, Written by THOMAS GOFF Master of Arts, and student of Christ-Church in OXFORD, AND Acted by the STUDENTS of the same house.  
The second Edition  
LONDON, Printed for G. BEDELL and T. COLLINS, at the middle Temple Gate Fleetstreet. 1656.   

The Prologue.  
THe hushed contentment of two silent hours,  
Breath pleasing airs on these attentive ears;  
And since we see in this well furnished room,  
All our best neighbours are so kindly met,  
We would devise some pleasing talk, to spend  
The lazy hours of the tedious night:  
But for our own invention, 'twas too weak,  
Whereon our young Muse durst not wholly lean.  
We here present for the revive a tale,  
Which once in Athens great Eurypedes  
In better phrase, at such a meeting told  
The learned Athenians with much applause:  
The same we will retell unto your ears;  
Whose Attic judgement is no less than theirs,  
We here as bvilders which do oft take stones,  
From out old buildings, then must hue and cut,  
To make them square, and fitting for a new;  
So from an old foundation we have taken,  
Stones ready squared for our edifice,  
Which if in pleasing our weak skill offends  
In making corners disproportionate,  
Some room too narrow or some loft to a high;  
Yet we well hope, if the whole structure fall.  
Your hands, like props, will serve to bear up all.  Spoken by the Author himself:  

The Names of the Actors.  

Agamemnon, King of Greece.  
Clytaemnestra, The Queen.  
Tyndarus Clytaemnestra's father.  
Strophius; Father to Pylades.  
Two dear friends. 

Orestes, soon to Agamemnon  
Pylades, soon to Stroph.    
Electra Daughter to Agamemnon.  
Aegisthus, Adulterer with Clytaemnestra.  
Misander, A Favourite; and Parasite.  
Ajoung Child of Aegisthus.  
Nurse.  
Two Lords.  
Chamberlain.  
A Boy.  
Attendants.    

THE TRAGEDY. OF ORESTES.  

Actus 1.  

Scena 1.  Enter as from war, Agamemnon, Clytaemnestra, Orestes, Pylades, Aegisthus, cum caeteris. Agam. 
NOw a fair blessing bless my dearest earth,  
and like a Bride adorn thy royal brow,  
with fruits rich Garland; a new married Bride  
Unto thy King and Husband, who too long  
Hath left thee widowed: O, me thinks I see  Turns to the spectators: 
how all my Grecians with unsatiate looks  
and greedy eyes do bid me welcome home:  
Each ear that hears the clamour seems to grieve,  
it cannot speak, and give a (welcome King:  
Come Clytaemnestra, let not anger make,  
his wrinkled seat upon my loves fair brow;  
I have too long been absent from thy bed,  
Chide me for that anon, when arm in arm  
I shall relate those projects in love terms,  
which when they first were acted, made Mars fear  
to see each man turned to a God of war.  Clyt. 
O my dear Lord, absence of things we love,  
thus intermixed, makes them the sweeter prove:  
That your departure pierced my tender soul,  
witness those crystal floods which in my eyes  
did make a sea, when you should go to sea,  
those streams, which then flowed from the veins of grief.  
at your return do overflow the banks.  
But 'tis with joy.  Agam. 
Now these ears indeed  
have changed their place: they which were wont to hear  
no music but the summoning of war  
blown thorough discords brazen instrument,  
are blessed now with accents that do fill  
my age-dried veins with youthful blood again.  
These eyes which had no other object once,  
but Hector twixt the arms of Greece and Troy,  
hewing down men, and making every field  
Flow with a sea of blood, now see's blood flow.  
In my Orestes cheeks: heaven bless this plant  Orestes kneels. 
sprung from the sap of this juiceless oak;  
Now be thy branches green, under whose shade  
I may be shadowed from the heat of war.  
Rise young Orestes, Oh how it glads my soul,  
to see my Queen and Son, my Son and Queen.  Clyt. 
But come my Lord, true love still hates delays,  
let no ears first be blessed with your breath,  
till on my breast resting your wearied head,  
You tell your war, where that the field's your bed.  Aga. 
My Queen shall have her will, see how times change.  
I that last night thought all the world a sea,  
As if our common mother earth, had now  
shot herself wholly into Neptune's arms,  
and the strong hinges of the world had cracked,  
letting the moon fall into th' swelling waves,  
such watery mountains oft did seem to rise,  
and quite o'erwhelm us, all the winds at war,  
banded the sea on to the others coasts,  
Jove thinking Neptune 'gan to strive for heaven,  
sent a new sea from thence, and with his thunder,  
bad silence to the waves; they uncontrolled,  
kept on their noise, and let their fury swell,  
turning heaven, earth, sea, clouds, and all to hell.  
Each Trojan that was saved then began cry,  
happy were they that did with Priam die.  
It glads me now to think, that that night was  
no star, no, not Orion there appeared;  
But this night's turned to day, and here doth shine,  
for a good Omen, my embraced Queen.  
With whom her Agamemnon still will stay,  
till age and death shall bear him quite away.  Exeunt Agamemnon, Clytaemnestra, cum caeteris.  

Scena 2.  Manet Egysteus. Aegyst. 
And that shall be ere long. Tush, shall be'sslow,  
my vengeful thoughts tell me thou now art dead.  
Fie faint Apollo, weakling infant-God,  
why wouldst thou let lame Vulcan's hammers beat  
down those brave Turrets which thou helpedst to build?  
Venus, I see thou art a woman now,  
which here are like to take a double foil;  
for we, that whilom revealed in thy camp  
in the sweet pleasures of incestuous sheets,  
must leave our loved unsatiate desires:  
But now begin, thou black Eumenideses,  
You handmaids of great Dis, let such a flame  
of anger burn me, as doth Aetna's forge,  
on fury, on, our hate shall not die thus:  
I'll draw my poisonous arrow to the length,  
that it may hit the mark and fly with strength. Exit   

SCEN. 3.  Enter Orestes: Pylades. Orestes. 
Come now my dearest friend, my other self,  
my empty soul is now filled to the top,  
brimful with gladness, and it must run o'er  
into my dear friends heart: those silver hairs,  
which time hath crowned my Father's brow withal,  
do shine within mine eyes, and like the Sun,  
extract all drossy vapours from my soul.  
Like as the earth, whom frost hast long benumbed,  
and brought an Icy dryness on her face,  
her veins so open, at a sudden thaw,  
that all plants, fruits, flowers, and tender grafts,  
kept as close prisoners in their mother's womb,  
start out their heads, and on a sudden doth  
the sad earth countenance with a summer look.  
So in this breast, here in this breast dear friend,  
whiles Annus ten times circled in the world  
ten clumsy winters, and ten lagging springs  
hath (with my father's absence) frozen been  
all thoughts of joy, which now shall make a spring  
in my refreshed soul.  
" Things that we daily see th'affections cloy,  
" hopes long desired bring the greatest joy.  Pyl. 
Nay, but dear Cousin, give not the reins too much  
to new received joys, lest that they run  
with so much speed, that they outbreathe themselves:  
your Father is come home; but being come,  
should now some woeful afterclap of fate  
(which Omen Jove forbid should come to pass)  
but take him hence again, and cross your joy;  
each spark of gladness which you now conceive,  
would turn a flame for grief: still one extreme,  
altering his course, turns to the divers theme.  Orestes. 
Tush Pylades, talk not of what may be,  
we may, indeed i'th' clearest afternoon  
expect a storm.  Pyl. 
Yes, and such storms oft come,  
and wet shrewd too, before we get at home.  Orestes. 
O, but I'll be above all fatal power:  
I that have such a Father new come home,  
I that have such a friend, such too rare gifts;  
who gave me these gifts, thought, no scowling frown  
of angry fortune e'er should throw me down.  Pyl. 
Call them not gifts Orestes, theyare but lent,  
mere lend friend, and lend we must pay,  
when e'er the owner shall appoint his day.  Orestes. 
True, Pylades, but owners use to warn  
their debtors when they must bring in their sums:  
but heavens tell me with favouring aspects,  
I still must keep their lend, and possess,  
with frolic joy, all their lent happiness.  Pyl. 
Trust not the heavens too much, although they smile,  
good looks do mortal hearts too oft beguile:  
the heavens are usurers; and as oft 'tis seen  
a full pouched churl give a most fair good even  
to his poor Creditor: who, trusting that,  
hath slacked this payment: on the morrow next  
he hath been rooted out by th' tuskey boar,  
which gave the fair good even the day before:  
The heavens can do thus too—  Orestes. 
Tush: mortals must  
lean on the sacred heaven with greater trust;  
but it grows far in night, come let us in  
to morrow shall our joys afresh begin. Exeunt.   

Scen. 4.  Enter Aegisthus, Clytaemnestra; with naked daggers: Agamemnon lying in his bed. Egyst. 
O Night, now only spread thy sable wings  
over this climate, gather all thy fogs  
that they may meet, and make thy face more black:  
let horrid murder take thee by the hand  
and come along: I have a prodigy  
equal to all the murders, all the blood  
that hath been shed in all Troy's ten year's siege.  He draws the curtain. 
So, snore returned King; good Morpheus hang  
thy leaden weight upon his drowsy eyes,  
let him not wake till he shall see himself  
drenched in a sea of his vermilion gore:  
Thou dost not Trojan, now, no Hector fear,  
but yet I'll show thee a new Hector here.  Clyt. 
See, I'll turn man too now, and to the hate  
which women bear, I'll add a manly strength:  
my mind does tremble, what I mean to do.  
Breath forth your vapors, O ye Stygian powers!  
and listen to a hateful woman's prayers.  
Pluto stand by me for to aid my hand,  
I may strike home now, and perform an act  
may make Medea blush she thought not of:  
Can the old dry boned dotard ever dream,  
now he had drawn forth all his strength abroad,  
he could be welcome to lie bedrid here,  
and supple his numbed joints in my fresh arms?  Egyst. 
Spoke like a queen, spoke like Aegisthus' love!  
Now great Thyestes Genius, which didst prompt  
me to this act; Come, be spectator now!  
and see revenge for Athens bloody feast.  
And thou wronged Clytaemnestra call to mind,  
how his unsatiate, lustful loathed desire,  
doted on every female face he saw,  
raped the Priest's daughter, and so brought a plague  
on all the Grecian host:  Clytem. 
Yes, yes,  Egyst. 
yes.  
And raped young Briseis from Achilles' bed.  
Crowd all revengful thoughts into this hour,  
now let thy sword let out that lustful blood.  Egistheus' stabs him. 
Wound him Aegisthus, kill him not at once,  
we'll be true Tyrants, let him feel he dies.  Aga. 
Help Clytaemnestra, help me, my dear Queen.  Clyt. 
Yes dotard, I will help thee, thus, yes thus:  She stabs him. 
Remember the Priest's daughter: this for her,  
and this for Briseis:  Agam. 
See, my Grecians, see,  
your King which you so gladly entertained.  
Sol, hid thyself in everlasting night,  
or when thou risest, let thy blushing face  
make these to blush.  Clytem. 
Ay, so, curse on, curse on:  Agam. 
O Clytaemnestra, O my once dear wife,  
is this the entertainment that thou giv'st  
thy new come husband? gratulates thou thus  
my ten year's absence? See these frosty hairs  
would even move Hecuba to pity me;  
Look on these aged arms which in this bed,  
thought to have been blessed with thy kind embrace.  Clytem. 
Yes, mine or Cassandra's, old adulterer.  Agam. 
Kinsman Aegisthus; O my dearest wife  
whom shall I call? me thinks you both are mine.  
What Titius, what Megaera hath put on  
Aegisthus and my Clytaemnestra's shapes?  Aegyst. 
Call'st thou us friends?  Stabs him again. Agam. 
O be not so, and I'll not call you so:  
Let not your coward weapons wound this head,  
that erst did scorn to shrink at Priam's blow.  
O hue me not down thus for my son's sake,  
dear Clytaemnestra, for Orestes sake.  
Is this the Trojan tale! how I should tell,  
that here great Hector slew Antiochus,  
and here that Meontiades was slain,  
and poor Protesilaos' dear to Lacdamie:  
I thought to tell how these men lost their blood;  
and see my blood is thus let forth at home.  Aegy. 
Is your hot blood yet cold!  Clyt. 
breath dotard, do.  
you shall have gaps enough to let your soul  
find a free passage to his deserved flames.  Agam. 
No pity yet? O then, no pity light  
on you, nor yours; but let dire revenge  
come learn how she may after handle you:  
O, I am drowned in blood, and now must yield  
to murderer's weapons; treason wins the field.  
Alas this coming home hath had small joy;  
Argos hath worse foes than ever Troy. Moritur,  Clyt. 
Now I am Clytaemnestra right, now I deserve  
to add one more to the three Furies, now  
do I count this more than my nuptial night;  
'Tis mine, 'tis thine, Aegisthus, and none else  
shall share a minute of this right, but we.  Egyst. 
Me thinks I now go equal with the stars,  
and my proud head toucheth the highest pole;  
Hark, hell applauds me, and me thinks I hear A noise  
Thyestes tell me, I have done enough:  
And now I kiss my hands, whilst yet they bear  
this tincture on them, and embrace my Queen,  
now made my love; let's in, this night the Fates  
have amply fed us with revengeful cates.  Exeunt  

Scen. 5.  Enter Orestes, as from his Bed, unbuttoned in slippers, a Torch in his hand. 
What horrid dreams affright me? I see nought  
that I should fear, and yet me thinks I fear.  
Mine eyes scarce closed, my busy Fancy saw  
a sight that dashed all comforts of the day:  
me thought my Father lying in his Tent,  
hateful Achilles, for his wronged love  
comes in with Briseis, and they two let forth  
streams of fresh blood from out his aged side,  
with that his Echoed screech did make me wake;  
but I remembered than he was come home,  
and yet I'll see him, still me thinks I quake.  
Do I still dream? Are not mine eyes unclosed?  He draws the Curtain. 
Is this a Torch? yea, 'tis, it burns, I see  
I am awake, do not delude me Night!  
Now stand on tiptoes Atlas, lift heaven higher,  
I may have air enough to breathe my woes in,  
O let me yet recall thy posting Soul!  
if Charon have not hurried thee too fast,  
if yet thou hast not drunk on Lethe's Pool,  
come back, and tell me who it is this night,  
hath done this deed far blacker than the night?  
Ah! Art thou fled past call? Why, thou wert old,  
me thinks thou shouldst not haste so fast away!  
Was it for this thou swe'tst so oft in Arms!  
Was it for this that the froth swelling foam,  
when thy Ships top touched heaven, and deep placed hell;  
that thou must yet escape curled Neptune's waves,  
to be a Palinurus in thy shore,  
there drown thy aged locks in Crimson gore?  
O, if one spark yet of thy Princely Soul  
remain within this trunk, now let it shine  
and light mine ignorant eyes to read the names  
of these night vultures, whose devouring bills  
have made a Titius of thy royal corpse:  
who did not fear great Agamemnon's sleep?  
Arm, arm yourselves all you all-potent Gods,  
you which we term just Ministers of heaven!  
shoot forked lightning from the marble pole,  
let the allseeing eye of heaven shoot flames  
which may parch up the marrow from their bones,  
should they lie couched i'th' breast o'th' Thunderer,  
or be entrenched with guards of furies fierce,  
heaven, earth nor hell, should keep them from my sword.  
Dost thou sleep Jove! O, couldst thou snore so fast,  
and let thy great vicegerent thus be torn?  
Some of th'immortal powers have had fathers,  
and know what 'tis to have them murdered thus.  
But I turn woman now: O, I rave out  
my passions; do, grief, pour out thyself,  
that thou mayst make room in my empty heart,  
to fill it with revenge.   

Scena 6.  Enter Clytaemnestra, Aegisthus, in night-robes. Clyt. 
How now? what ails our son, how now Orestes!  Orestes. 
O some are come now to help me to grieve:  
See, mother, see, your husband and my father,  
the King of Greece, great Shepherd of his Land,  
see, see him here:  She feigns herself to swoon, Egy. catcheth her falling. Clyt. 
O help me now good heaven to keep my sex,  
let me dissemble.  Aegyst. 
Help (my Lords) the Queen.  Clyt. 
Why hindered you my soul, that whilst he lived,  
was linked to his, and would too now have fled  
with winged desire to have been with him!  
What do I live for! Agamemon slain!  
My Lord, my King, husband, wake my Lord,  
what bloody Trojan followed thee from thence  
to kill thee here? could he not one night  
have let me rested in thy sweet embraces?  
Must he for sureness make so many holes,  
for thy sweet soul to fly to be a God?  
O let my tears be balm to these thy wounds,  
let my lips kiss, and warm thy gelid lips;  
let my hair wipe these clots of blood away  
from thy age-honoured side: O dry your tears,  
join knees and prayers with me, awake ye Gods,  They both kneel. 
and send our vows, since we can send no wounds:  
Come son, we women still know how to curse.  
Let him that did it be an Adulterer.  Aegyst. 
Faith she gins well, sure she knows the man.  aside. Clyt. 
Let him be conscious, he hath done a deed  
deserves revenge, whether it fall or no:  
Let him for ever bear in mind this night,  
and who 'twas helped him in this bloody act.  Aegisthus. 
Yes, he'll remember how you curse him now.  aside. Orst. 
If ever he have children, let them be  
murdered before his face, that they may know  
how nature binds a father and a son.  Aegyst. 
Now hands I thank you, now my soul grows glad,  
had not he grieved thus, I had lost revenge.  Clyt. 
But come my son, now let us talk of graves,  
of Epitaphs, and tombs, and's soul being fled,  Draw the curtain and carry him away. 
let's lap his Trunk up in a sheet of lead.  Exeunt Clytaemnestra, and Aegisthus. Manent Orestes. Orestes. 
Methinks I see a Tragedy at hand,  
to which this night hath as a Prologue been;  
I'll make a prayer now worthy Atreus' grandchild,  
let the foul Adder sting me as I walk,  
the poisonous toad belch her black venom forth  
in my despised face, let it be thought  
I never had a father, but some monster  
bred by a slimy exhalation,  
If my revenge fly not with ample wing:  
till than rest soul, hate told, may lose his sting.    

Actus 2.  

Scena 1.  Enter Cassandra sola as a mad Prophetess. Cass. 
O ye dead Trojans leap within your graves!  
O mother that thou hadst lived this night!  
Now thou'dst be glad t'have lost so many sons:  
the Grecians are revenged upon themselves,  
I thank thee soul, that thou keeptst here till now  
to let me see Greece overcome itself;  
I live, I live, I'm here, I live to see't:  
I do not dream on't, no, I saw the blood  
run from his side, whole Cataracts, all Greece.  
Apollo, how am I bound now for this  
that I do only see this happiness?  
Hecuba, Priam, young Astyanax.  
Look Hecuba, Greece now doth act your woes,  
laugh Hecuba, for now Electra weeps:  
and Tyndarus he knows not what to do:  
Come little Cousin, come my Astyanax,  
Orestes is in a worse case than thou.  
Still I had others for to weep with me,  
but none are left to laugh now, but myself:  
What should he fear at home? A conqueror fear!  
'tis done, 'tis done, leave fight Hector, leave,  
the Grecians mean to fight against themselves,  
from Tyndarus the first brand took fire  
which burned down Troy: and now an other here  
kindles from him, to set a fire Greece,  
Graia juvenca venit, quae se, patremque virumque  
Perdidit, Io laetor, Graja juvenca venit.  
Helen, thy sister Helen, nay she's thine:  
who could have thought that Hector being slain,  
old Priam made a sacrifice to death,  
Troy turned to cinders, poor Andromacha  
dragged by her hair to death; Astyanax  
sent out o'th' world before he well came in,  
Ha', ha', who could have thought after all this  
Cassandra should have ever laughed again?  
One hour of laughter following many years  
of discontent, doth help to sweeten tears Exit.   

Actus 2. Scena 2.  Enter Aegisthus, Clytaemnestra. Aegy. 
Fair morning to my Queen, nay more, my love,  
how likes my sweet her change of bedfellow?  Clyt. 
Look as an hollow leafless failing oak,  
to whom, for that h'hath been her weight too long,  
the earth denies to lend him moisture, so  
his sap fails, and he stands on a green  
'mongst sprouting Elms, that they may seem more fresh  
whilst he's but held a monument of years.  
Such one seemed Agamemnon; a dry tree:  
thou like a sprouting Elm, whom I embrace  
like twining Ivy, with these now blessed arms,  
blessed whilst this treasure in them they hold locked:  Aegyst. 
O who'd not do a murder for a woman!  
Heaven had but two things for the Gods reserved,  
fire, and women: when with Giant strength  
Promotheus had ta'en one, Jove in his rage  
threw him the tother, bade him keep 'em both.  
O theyare rare creatures, they have such Meanders,  
Their tears will come and go with such brave art!  
Come now my Queen, one sweet Ambrosian kiss;  
O Nectar! prithee hadst thou taught thy tears  
how they should flow before?  Clyt. 
No, trust me love,  
I knew my tears would soon be at command,  
and faith the boy had almost made me weep  
really once. Were not my curses rare?  Aegyst. 
Yes, all was woman-like: but yet that boy  
he took it deeply; would he were with his father,  
so gone, it skills not how; were he away,  
we would act freely all our lustful play.  Clyt. 
O but my love! he's mine: Nor can the raven  
dig her sharp beak into her own birds breast:  
He will forget his father: woe will break;  
'tis not the greatest grief that most doth speak.  Aegyst. 
O, but he'll bear still a suspicious eye;  
and who in bloody Scenes doth act a part,  
thinks every eye doth penetrate his heart.  
Nor can we ere be free, or I enjoy  
true pleasures; we must be but thiefs at most,  
close in delights, and have a Pander still  
to be a Factor 'twixt thy bed and mine:  
this we could have before, what now we do,  
the world should see done, and applaud us too.  Clyt. 
Why my dear Love, I that would set my hand  
to slain my marriage sheets with husband's blood,  
would let these hands, instructed now in ill,  
not leave one arm of that uprooted tree;  
Can but Aegisthus give me any hope,  
that from this top there should one spreading branch  
grow up and flourish.  Aegyst. 
Now thou art thyself;  
yes, yes my love, there shall one spring from us  
shall be a lofty Pine, let this be cropped;  
murder must murder guard, guilt add to guilt,  
after one drop, whole streams of blood be spilt.  walks away.  

Scen. 3.  Enter Pylades, Orestes, Electra, Strophius. Pyl. 
Dear friend, what mean you, to o'rwhelm yourself  
in such a sea of grief?  Orestes. 
Father! dear Agamemnon!  Pyl. 
Nay cease this tempest, thou hast lost a father,  
why, 'tis but change, my father shall be thine,  
I'll be thy brother, nay, I'll be thyself,  
weep when thou weepest, and where thou goest I'll go,  
and bring thee on thy pilgrimage of woe.  Elect. 
Brother, look up; have not I lost a father?  
yes, yes, and would a river of fresh tears  
turn Lethe's stream, and bring him from the wharf,  
with a North gale of windy blowing sighs,  
I would expire my soul, become all tears.  Stro. 
Come, you have lost a father, I a brother,  
the Queen a Husband, all the Land a King;  
yet all this but a man; therefore must die:  
Our woes may all be in one balance poised.  
His book of life the Fates had overread,  
and turned the leaf where his last period stood.  
Now an immortal wreath circle's his brow,  
and makes him King in heaven, who was before  
at most a God on earth: Hence difference springs,  
Kings are earth's Gods, and Gods are heavenly Kings.  Orestes. 
Let us join words then now, and Swanlike sing  
the doleful dirge to a departed King:  
Thou friend didst of this misery divine,  
therefore the burden of the song is mine:  
words Orators for woe, which plead the cause,  
when grief's the judge, and sighs are all the laws,  
each one a sob for Diapason bears,  
our tunes shall drown the music of the spheres:  
O what Hirudo with unsatiate thirst,  
could draw the blood from out those Princely veins,  
from whence flowed comfort to so many souls!  Spies his mother, goes to her. 
Mother, when wept you last? here take a scarf  
dry your eyes: now by— you need none,  
what shine of comfort hath dried up your tears?  Clyt. 
Our son's too saucy with his mother Queen:  
Why, Sir, shall you tell us a time to weep?  Orestes. 
Us? good: Who is't makes the plurality?  
'Twas wont to be my father: does he live?  Clyt. 
Sir, kerb this lavish speech, or I'll forget  
you are my son, and make you but a subject.  Aegyst. 
Good Cousin add not disobedience  
unto your mother's griefs.  Orestes. 
My mother, no,  
she is not here, no, she hath hid herself  
in some odd nook, or angle unperceived,  
she might not see this impious stygian world.  Cly. 
Aegystus, canst thou still suffer thy dull sword i'th' sheath?  
Take the rank head from this o'ergrowing weed.  Stro. 
Remember Clytaemnestra, he's your son.  Clyt. 
He is so, and I'll learn him to be so:  
Had I a brazen bull, it should be heat  
hotter than for the Tyrant: Disobedient!  
More harsh than Adders hisses is thy voice,  
Sir, you shall die, but with a living death,  
he still shall live, but live to know he dies;  
who straight threats death, knows not to Tyrannise.  Exeunt Aegisthus, Clytaemnestra. Stro. 
What temper's grown on the distracted Queen?  
Hath grief, conceived for her late husband's death,  
brought her so far, she hath forgot herself?  Orestes. 
No Uncle, no, by— I do suspect.  
O, my prophetic soul divines much ill!  
Well, I will fly. But hear this stratagem,  
it shall be rumoured i'th' ear of the Court  
I was found dead, I'll put a new shape on,  
and live alone, to hear how things go here.  Pyl. 
Nay, not alone Orestes, whilst I live,  
shouldst make thy bed upon the rigid Alps,  
or frozen Caucasus, wrapped in sheets of snow,  
I'd freeze unto thy side; we will tell tales  
of Trojan warriors, and deposed Kings.  
Tell of strange shipwreck, of old Priam's fall,  
how mad Andromacha did tear her hair,  
when the wild horses tore brave Hector's limbs:  
we'll think they all do come, and weep with us;  
grief loves companions, and it helpeth woe,  
when it hears every one groan forth his, Oh!  
it easeth much, and our plaints fall more sweet,  
when a whole consort in one tune do meet.  
The halfdead shipman, which hath shipwreck borne,  
seeing many drowned, it makes him less to mourn:  
It made Deucalion care the less to die,  
when he had all the world in company.  
Thus we will sit, and our tears turns shall keep,  
thou for thy father, I for thee will weep:  
If actors on the Stage having no cause,  
but for to win an hearer's hands applause,  
can let fall tears, we'll think we Actors be,  
and only do but play griefs Tragedy.  Orestes. 
O, but dear friend, should we but act a part,  
the play being ended, passion left the heart,  
and we should share of joy: but my whole age  
must never move from off this woeful Stage:  
But we must take our leave; Uncle, farewell,  
remember what I spoke; and Sister, you  
must tarry here, my thoughts shall busied be,  
to find the man that let my father blood.  
Can I but find Aegisthus did consent,  
to spill one drop, O, I would pierce his heart  
with venomed daggers, and so butcher him,  
that all Apollo's skill in physic herbs,  
nor Aesculapius th' Epidaurian God,  
should keep his soul out of Enyo's hand;  
Come my dear friend; to all the rest farewell;  
If heaven relate it not, I'll know't from hell.  Exeunt Pylades, Orestes.  

Scena 4.  Enter Aegisthus, Clytaemnestra, Misander, Strophius, Electra another way. Aegyst. 
What, is Orestes fled? sure there's some plot,  
if you dear Queen, but search Electra well,  
you'll find she knows whither her brothers gone.  Clyt. 
If in her heart there be but lodged a thought  
unknown to me, this hand shall rip her breast,  
and search her inparts, but I'll find it out.  
Misander, call Electra.  Aegisthus. 
O, were that moat ta'en from our comforts beams,  
no cloud e'er then could overshade our joys,  
his life must be cut off without delay,  
mischief, by mischief finds the safest way:  
But here's Electra.  Cly. 
Why! how now Minion! what a blubbering still!  
Huswife, pray where's your brother, where's my son?  Elect. 
Mother, pray where's my father, where's your husband?  Enter Stropheus, and speaks. 
Hail to my my gracious Queen, here's one at door.  
brings you a message, he will not relate  
to any, but yourself, he says 'tis sad.  Clyt. 
Why, the more dismal, the more welcome 'tis.  
But as for you—  Elect. 
Good mother do your worst,  
no plague can ever make me more accursed,  
nothing is worse than death, that I'll not fly.  Clyt. 
Yes, life is worse to those that feign would die.  
But where's the messenger?   

Scena 5.  Enter Nuncius. 
What whirlwind rising from the womb of earth  
doth raise huge Pelion unto Ossa's top,  
that both being heaped, I stand upon them both  
and with an hundred Stentor-drowning voice,  
relate unto the world the saddest tale  
that ever burdened the weak jaws of man?  Aegyst. 
Why, what portentous news? Amaze us not,  
tell us what e'er it be.  Nun. 
Were my mind settled, would the gelid fear,  
that freezeth up my sense, set free my speech,  
I would unfold a tale which makes my heart  
throb in my entrails, when I seem to see't.  Clyt 
Relate it quickly, holds not in suspense.  Nun. 
Upon the mount of yonder rising cliff,  
which th'earth hath made a bulwark for the sea,  
whose peerless head is from the streams so high,  
that whosoever looks down, his brain will swim  
with a vertigo: The space remov d so far  
the object from the eye, that a tall ship  
seemed a swift flying bird: upon this top  
saw I two men making complaints to heaven,  
one's voice distinctly still cried, Father, King,  
great Agamemnon, whose diviner soul  
fled from thy corpse, exiled by butcher's hands:  
his friend still sought to keep his dying life  
with words of comfort, that it should not rush  
too violently upon the hands of Fate.  
He deaf as sea, to which he made his plaints,  
still cried out, Agamemnon, I will come,  
and find thy blessed soul where e'er it walk;  
in what fair Temple of Elysium  
so e'er it be, my soul shall find it out.  
With that his friend knit him within his arms,  
striving to hold him, but when 'twas no boot,  
they hand in hand, thus plunged into the main;  
straight they arose, and strived (me thought) for life,  
but swelling Neptune not regarding friends,  
wrapped their embraced limbs in following waves:  
Until at last their dear departing souls  
hastened to Styx, and I no more could see.  Stro. 
O 'twas Orestes, 'twas my Pylades,  
which arm in arm did follow him to death.  Elect. 
O my Orestes, O my dearest brother!  
'Tis he, 'tis he, that thus hath drowned himself.  Aegyst. 
Why, then if Agamemnon and his son  
have brought their lease of life to the full end:  
I am Thyestes son, and the next heir,  
to sit in Argos Throne of Majesty.  
Thanks to our Alpheus' sea, who as 't'ad strived  
to gratify Aegisthus, raised his force,  
and gathered all his waters to one place,  
they might be deep enough to drown Orestes:  
But come my Queen, let us command a feast.  
To get a kingdom, who'd not think it good,  
to swim unto it through a sea of blood?    

Actus 3.  

Scena 1.  Enter Tyndarus, Misander. Tynd. 
Our daughter sends for us? how fares she? well?  
she mourns I'm sure for her husband's death.  Mis. 
My Lord, she took it sadly at the first:  
But time hath lessened it.  Tind. 
I, grief soon ends  
that flows in tears; they still are women's friends:  
But how is't rumoured now in Argos, though,  
that Agamemnon died?  Mis. 
Why, he was old,  
and death thought best to seize on him at home.  Tynd. 
'Twas a long home, he got by coming home:  
Well, well, Misander, I like not the course,  
the people's murmur makes my cheeks to blush.  Mis. 
My gracious Lord, who trusts their idle murmur,  
must never let the blush go from his cheek;  
They are like flags growing on muddy banks,  
whose weak thin heads blown with one blast of wind,  
they all will shake, and bend themselves one way:  
Great minds must not esteem what small tongues say.  
All things in state must ever have this end,  
the vulgar should both suffer, and commend,  
if not for love, for fear; great Majesty  
should do those things which vulgars' dare not fee.  Tynd. 
O, Sir, but those that do commend for fear,  
do in their hearts a secret hatred bear.  
Ever learn this; the truest praise indeed,  
must from the heart, and not from words proceed.  
I fear some soul play: doth Aegisthus mean,  
then totally for to invest himself  
in Agamemnon's seat? Where's young Orestes?  Mis. 
Why my Lord, he for the great grief conceived  
being young, not knowing well to rule himself  
with sway of reason, ran upon his death  
and threw himself with my lord Strophius' son,  
into the midst of Alpheus, so was drowned,  Ty. 
How took my daughter that?  Mys. 
Why, wisely too,  
and like herself; not being in despair:  
her royal womb will bring forth many more,  
shall be as dear as e'er Orestes was.  Tynd. 
I fear heaven cannot look with equal eyes  
upon so many deaths, but means to send  
plague after plague; for in a wretched state,  
one ill begets another dismal Fate:  
But go and tell my daughter I will come,  
and help to solemnize her nuptial night:  
Her hasty wedding, and the old King's neglect,  
makes my conjectural soul some ill suspect.  Exeunt.  

Scen. 2.  Enter Orestes, and Pylades. Orestes. 
If ever God lent any thing to earth,  
whereby it seemed to sympathise with heaven,  
it is this sacred friendship: Gordian knot  
which Kings, nor Gods, nor Fortune can undo.  
O what Horoscopus, what constellation,  
held in our birth so great an influence,  
which one affection in two minds unites?  
How hath my woe been thine, my fatal ill  
hath still been parted, and one share been thine!  Pyl. 
Why, dearest friend, suppose my case were thine,  
and I had lost a father, wouldst not thou  
in the like sort participate my grief?  Oars. 
Yes, witness heaven I would.  Pyl. 
So, now thou hast lost a father.  Orestes. 
True, Pylades, thou putst me well in mind,  
I have lost a father, a dear, dear father,  
a King, a brave old King, a noble soldier,  
and yet he was murdered! O my forgetful soul!  
Why should not I now draw my vengeful sword,  
and straightway sheath it in the murderer's heart?  
Minos should never have vacation,  
whilst any of our progeny remained.  
Well, I will go, and so massacre him,  
I'll teach him how to murder an old man,  
a King, my father, and so dastardly  
to kill him in his bed.  Pyl. 
Alas, Orestes!  
Grief doth distract thee: who is't thou wilt kill?  Orestes. 
Why, he, or she, or they that killed my father.  Pyl. 
I, who are they?  Orestes. 
Nay, I know not yet,  
but I will know.  Pyl. 
Stay thy vengeful thoughts,  
and since thus long we have estranged ourselves  
from friends and parents, let's think why it is,  
and why we had it noised in the Court,  
we both were dead; the cause was thy revenge,  
that if by any secret private means,  
we might but learn who 'twas that drenched their swords  
in thy dear father's blood, we then would rouse  
black Nemesis in flames from out her cave,  
and she should be the umpire in this cause.  
Man's soul is like a boisterous working sea,  
swelling in billows for disdain of wrongs,  
and tumbling up and down from day to day,  
grows greater still in indignation,  
turns malcontent, in pleaseless melancholy,  
spending her humours in dull passion, still  
locking her senses in unclosed gins,  
till by revenge she's set at liberty.  Orestes. 
O, now my thirsty soul expects full draughts  
of Ate's boiling cup: O, how twouled ease  
my heart to see a channel of his blood  
streaming from hence to hell, that killed my father.  Pyl. 
I, but dear friend, thou must not let rage lose,  
and like a furious Lion, from whose den  
the forester hath stole away his young,  
he missing it, strait runs with open jaws  
on all he meets, and never hurting him  
that did the wrong: Wise men must mix revenge  
with reason, which by providence will prompt,  
and tell us where's the mark, whereat we aim.  
Till then, in Cinders we'll rake up our grief:  
fire thus kept, still lives, but opened dies;  
from smallest sparks great flames may one day rise.  Orestes. 
True, friend, but, O, who ever will reveal  
this hideous act! what power shall we invoke?  Pyl. 
Yes, hearken friend, I have bethought a means;  
not distant far from this place where we live,  
there stands a cave hard by a hollow oak,  
in a low valley, where no Sun appears,  
no music ever was there heard to sound;  
but the harsh voice of croaking ominous ravens,  
and sad Nyctimine the bird of night:  
There's now a shed, under whose ancient roof  
there sometimes stood an Altar for the Gods,  
but now slow creeping time, with windy blasts  
hath beaten down that stately Temples walls,  
defaced his rich built windows, and untiled  
his battlemented roof, and made it now  
a habitation, not for God, nor men:  
Yet an old woman, who doth seem to strive  
with the vast building for antiquity,  
in whose rough face time now hath made such holes,  
as in those uncouth stones she there hath made  
herself a cell, wherein to spend her age.  
Her name's Canidia; great in Magic spells,  
at whose dire voice, the gods themselves would quake  
to hear her charm the second time pronounced.  
One that can know the secrets of the heavens,  
and in the air hath flying ministers,  
to bring her news from earth, from sea, from hell:  
which, when thick night hath compassed in the world,  
then doth she go to dead men's graves and tombs,  
and sucks the poisonous marrow from their bones,  
then makes her charm, which she ne'er spent in vain:  
Nor doth she come as suppliant to the gods,  
but making Erebus, and heaven to quake,  
she sends a spell drowning infernal thunder,  
by which all secrets that were ever done,  
in fair white parchment writ in lines of blood,  
locked in the inmost room of hell itself  
is brought unto her: and by her we may  
have leave to look in Pluto's register,  
and read the names of those most loathed furies,  
which rend thy Father's soul from out his trunk:  
But she must see thy father's dead bones first,  
them we must bring her, for by them she works:  
This if thou darest assay, I'll go along.  Orestes. 
If I dare assay! yes, yes, dear friend,  
were it to burst my father's sepulchre,  
and wake his Manes, show them Radamanth;  
their iterated sight will burn my soul  
with such a sparkling flame of dire revenge,  
as Nessus' shirt did burn great Hercules:  
If that the scroll which did contain their names,  
were in a lake of flaming brimstone drenched,  
I'd take it out, or feched from Pluto's arms:  
But come; if earth hath such a creature as can tell,  
'twill save a journey (for this once) from hell.   

Scena. 3.  Enter Aegisthus, Clytaemnestra, Tyndarus, Misander, Strophius, Electra, cum caet. with a crown. Aegisthus ascends the throne, Misander crowns him: Clytaemnestra great with child. Mys. 
All years of happy days, all hours of joy  
so circle in thy state, as doth this crown  
wreath and combine thy princely temples in,  
All speak, Jove still protect Aegisthus.  Aegyst. 
Thanks to my father's subjects:  
Now Argos swell up to the brim with joy,  
and streams of gladness flow on Tyndarus,  
Now made our father; see old King, see here's  
my Queen doth mean to make thee a grandfather,  
see how thy royal blood shall propagate,  
whose Kingly drops like heaven distilling dew,  
shall add fresh life unto thy withered root.  Tynd. 
Yes, but Aegisthus, there were arms before  
grew on this tree; but the Fates envious axe  
hath cut them off before they'd time to sprout.  Clyt. 
O Sir, the Fates needs must have leave to make  
ways for themselves to manage what they do:  
Had Agamemnon and Orestes lived,  
they could not then have blessed me with these gifts:  
Still when the heavens and Fates do work their will,  
they intent good, though sometimes there come ill.  Tynd. 
O but pray Jove the Fates now were not forced,  
but deeds like words no man can e'er recall,  
be't good or ill; once done, we must bear all.  Aegyst. 
Come father sit we down, and make a feast,  They set to the feast. 
to glad our hearts; Heaven still doth for the best.  Stro. 
O let my latter age not live to see  
Aegisthus wear great Argos diadem.  Elect. 
Fear not good uncle, there will be a time,  
to pull him down, although he yet doth climb.  Tynd. 
Who ever trusted much on fortunes gifts,  
on wife, on state, on health, on friends, on lands,  
may look on Agamemnon's coming home:  
Fortune me thinks ne'er showed her power more;  
how quickly could she turn her Fatal sword  
upon his breast, that thought himself past harm?  
she that had used death like an angry dog,  
holding him up, when that he should have bit,  
when all the game was past, and's fury laid,  
the king being past all danger, safe at home,  
than he slips collar, never until then,  
and fortune she stood hissing of him on,  
till he had torn the good king's soul away.  Clytaemnestra seems to weep. Aegyst. 
Nay but good father let pass elegies,  
you draw fresh tears now from your daughter's eyes,  
who shed enough before at's funeral:  
let's talk who are to live, not who are dead;  
and think what progeny shall spring from us  
may bear your Image stamped upon the face,  
this we must talk of now, not what griefs passed  
but of the joy to come. My Queen not well!  Clytaemnestra riseth from the table. 
Now good Electra look unto your mother,  
Lucina be propitious to the birth;  
why, will not now a young Aegisthus be,  
as grateful as an old Orestes was?  
Thou times good lengthener, age, posterity,  
spread thyself still upon Aegisthus' line,  
help me to treasure up antiquity,  
and from Thyestes loins let spring an heir,  
shall ever sit in great Thyestes chair. Exeunt.   

SCEN. 4.  Enter Pylades and Orestes, with his arms full of a dead man's bones, and a scull. Pyl. 
Near to this shady grove, where never light  
appears, but when 'tis forced with some charm,  
Canidia dwells, in such a dusky place,  
that the night goblins fear to come too near it.  
Here let us knock.  Orestes. 
Nay, Pylades, see here,  
O give me leave to discant on these bones:  
This was my Father's scull; but who can know  
whether it were some subject's scull, or no?  
Where be these Princely eyes, commanding face,  
the brave majestic look, the Kingly grace?  
Where's the imperious frown, the Godlike smile,  
the graceful tongue, that spoke a soldier's stile?  
Ha', ha', worms eat them! could no Princely look,  
no line of eloquence writ in this book,  
command, nor yet persuade the worms away?  
Rebellious worms! could a King bear no sway?  
Injurious worms! what could no flesh serve  
but Kings for you? By— you all should starve,  
had I but knowned: What must my father make  
a feast for you? O ye devouring creatures!  Pyl. 
Now some Archilocus to help him make  
vengeful iambics, that would make these worms  
to burst themselves: Passion must please  
itself by words, grief told, itself doth ease.  Ore. 
You cowardly bones, would you be thus unclothed  
by little crawling worms! by— I never thought  
my father's bones could e'er have been such cowards:  
O you ungrateful worms! how have you used him?  
See their ingratitude! O ambitious creatures,  
how they still domineer o'er a King's carcase!  Py. 
How could they think when thou cam'st to'the crown  
that thou shouldst bear, that these should eat thy father?  Orestes. 
True, Pylades, should I not rend their maws,  
devise new tortures? O most horrible treason,  
that worms should come unto a great King's face,  
and eat his eyes! why, I would undertake  
but at one stamp to kill a thousand of'em:  
and I will kill these:  Stamps upon them. 
Go you King-eating creatures: I will mar  
all your digestion.  Pyl. 
Alas, where be his wits?  
He stands declaiming against senseless worms,  
and turns more senseless than the worms themselves:  
where's now the oracle you should consult?  
The great Magician? now the Centauris thought  
shall be example to all future years;  
and now transcend Proserpina's invention.  
Ha', hast thou found them out? ha', were they worms?  Orestes. 
O prithee laugh not at me, call her, call her;  Pylades knock 
whilst I stand gathering up my father's bones,  
his dear dissected bones; O, I remember, here  
ran the strong sinews, 'twixt his knitting joints,  
here to this bone was joined his princely arm,  
here stood the hand that bore his warlike shield,  
and on this little joint was placed the head,  
that Atlas-like bore up the weight of Greece:  
here, here betwixt these hollow yawning jaws  
stood once a tongue, which with one little word  
could have commanded thousand souls to death:  
Good hands endure this your weighty task,  
and good eyes strive not to make moist his bones  
with weeping tears:  
What Scinis or Procustes ever could  
have hacked a King into such things as these?  
Alas here's every part now so deformed,  
I know not which was his, yet all was his.  Sound infernal Music.  

Scena 5.  Enter Canidia, like an Enchantress. Orestes. 
Protect us O ye Ministers of heaven,  
stand near me my good Genius, my soul hath lost  
his humane function, at this hellish sight.  Can. 
Who is't disturbs our cave? what messenger  
hath Pluto sent, that would know aught from us?  
what are you? speak, Canidia cannot stay.  Pyl. 
Prompt us some Ghost.  
Great fear of earth, and governess of nature,  
in whose deep closet of that sacred heart  
are writ the characters of future Fate;  
and what is done, and what must be thou know'st:  
Whose words make burning Acheron grow cold,  
and Jove leave thundering, when he hears thy name:  
to thee we come: O turn thy secret book,  
and look whose names thou there shalt see inscribed  
for murderers, read o'er all the catalogue,  
until thou findest there engraven those  
which killed the King of Greece, great Agamemnon.  Orestes. 
Yes, he that did owe these bones which worms have eat;  
it is not now one of the meaner sort  
that craves this boon, but 'tis the heir of Greece,  
heir only now but to my father's grave;  
I not command, but my astonished soul  
entreats to know.  
If in thy book it be not yet put down,  
command the gods t' unlock the gates of heaven,  
and fetch forth death, command him to relate  
who 'twas put Agamemnon in his hands,  
this is our business, this, great prophetess,  
made us approach to thy most hallowed cell.  Can. 
Ho, ho, ho, I tell thee fond young prince,  
a lesser power thou mightst have implored,  
which might have urged th'unwilling fiends to this;  
our dire enchantments carry such a force,  
that when the stars, and influence of heaven,  
have sucked the lively blood from out men's veins,  
I at my pleasure bring it back again;  
I knew each hour in the Trojan fight,  
what Grecian, or what Phrygian should die,  
and fierce Achilles had no sooner pierced  
great Hector's side, but Fate did send me word:  
Earth, Sea, deep Chaos, all the stony hills,  
will open themselves to show me prodigies;  
Night will unmask her brow, to let me see  
what black conceptions reem within her womb.  Orestes. 
O then relate, great Mistress of thy Art,  
the things we crave:  Can. 
What time of night is't?  Pyl. 
Upon the stroke of twelve.  Can. 
Straight when a cloudy even clappeth the Air,  
and all light's drenched in misty Acheron,  
when the black palpheries of the full cheeked moon,  
have got behind this part o'th' Hemisphere,  
and dark Aldebor, and is mounted high  
into the sable Cassiopeia's chair,  
and night full mounted in her seat of jet,  
sits wrapped within a cabinet of clouds,  
when serpents leave to hisse, no dragons yell,  
no birds do sing, no harsh tuned toads do croak,  
the Armenian Tiger, and the ravenous wolf,  
shall yield up all their tyranny to sleep,  
and then none walk but hell's disturbed spirits,  
children of night, such as belong to me,  
I'll show thee thy desire; give me these bones.  Orestes. 
Here, take them Mother, use them gently,  
they were a King's bones once. O not so hard.  Can. 
Why senseless boy, dost think that I respect  
a King's dead bones, more than another man's?  
O they smell rankly; I, this scent doth please,  Smells to them. 
but I must now to work: why Sagana.  Pyl. 
Look here thou King of Greece, fond Menelaus,  
thou which didst bring so many goodly shapes  
into such things as these, and all for Helen:  Takes up the scull. 
Which when the worms bred of her dainty flesh,  
shall have gnawed off her tender ruby lips,  
and left her gumless, look upon her then;  
and thou wouldst even disgorge thyself to see,  
such putrid vermin to lie kissing her.  Orestes. 
This head had once a royal diadem,  
now knock it, beat it, and 'twill ne'er cry treason.  Can. 
Why Sagana.  Orestes 
There was a player once upon a stage,  
who striving to present a drecry passion,  
brought out the urn of his late buried son,  
it might the more affect him, and draw tears:  
But I, as if I had no passion left,  
not acting of a part, but really  
in a true cause having my father's bones,  
his hollow scull, yet crawling full of worms,  
I cannot weep, no not a tear will come.  Can. 
Why Sagana, Veia, Erichtho, know you not your time?   

Scen. 6.  Enter Sagana, Veia, Erichtho, three witches. Sag. 
What would you, Beldame?  Can. 
Hath not triformed Hecate put on  
her Styx-dyed mantle, is't not now fit time  
to work our charms in?  Veia. 
We here are ready 'gainst thy sacred charm.  Can. 
You two, sit by, and bear in mind this charge;  
Who e'er you see, who ever I present,  
let your tongues be perculissed in your jaws;  
stir not, nor speak not, till the charm be done.  Pyl. 
Fear not, it shall be chained with silence.  Can. 
Night, and Diana sacred Queen,  
Which ever hath spectator been  
Unto our baleful hideous rights,  
ne'er acted but in darkest nights,  
Now in this fatal hears-bred hour,  
Show to my rites the greatest power.  
Erichtho when my torch shall twinkle,  
A vernal water thou shalt sprinkle  
About the room, now let us kneel,  
Our heavy burden hell shall feel:  
Let's all coin words, now we may see  
Who 'twas did work this prodigy.  
Omnes. Pluto, great Pluto, we command,  
Thou send unto us out of hand,  
The shapes of them that killed the King,  
Great Agamemnon.  Infernal Music. Enter in a dumb show, Aegisthus and Clytaemnestra, with their bloody daggers, look upon the bed, go to it, and stab, and then make a show of gladness and departed. Or. 
O'tis above my bearing! were I linked here with chains,  
I would like Cerberus draw Alcides' back:  
Stay, stay, by— revenge shall take you here;  
nay, I will follow you, should they take their cave,  
where Aetna vomits fire, I would in:  
my mother! Clytaemnestra! Aegisthus! was it they?  
Nay, I will o'ertake them.  Can. 
O son, remember what I told you, son,  
many a rocky hill and stoney mount,  
many a sea, and vast Charybdis gulf,  
stands betwixt them and thee, though they seem near.  Orestes. 
O piety! O most prodigious nature!  
What creatures hast thou made to live on earth?  
How hast thou clothed black darkness with a scarf  
of unstained purity, and put a godly face  
upon portentous devils? Oh, how my mother wept!  
How Clytaemnestra! how that Hyena wept!  
No more my mother, I abjure the name,  
she did not bring me forth, I know she did not:  
But I'll o'ertake 'em; show me (Canidia) where,  
which way they went, where have they hid themselves.  
Should they mount up to the chariot of the Sun,  
and in his Car fly to the Antipodes,  
or in the farthest nook of yonder sphere,  
get up and place themselves 'twixt Taurus' horns,  
the fire-breathing bull, or Lerna's Hydra,  
were there no entrance but ten Lions jaws,  
I'd run through all, and make my way myself:  
I'd fix them to the Axletree of heaven,  
where their infectious carcases should hang  
a bait for flying spirits in the Air.  
Canidia, I thank thee for thy pains,  
still may thy sacred Art reveal such deeds,  
still keep the gates of Orcus' yawning ope,  
make the dark powers ready at command.  Pyl. 
But let us hast dear friend, this vast world's room  
allows us none, but thy dead father's Tomb:  
here's nought but airs of death, no bed but stones,  
〈◊〉 pillow's a dead scull, companions bones,  
Mars's all our comfort, if we needs must die,  
〈◊〉 have a Grave prepared wherein to lie.  Orestes. 
Now pale Tisiphone, O for thy Snakes!  
〈◊〉 that renowned spirit, that more than man,  
whom all the Trojan host could not o'rwhelm,  
murdered! But what brave warrior wore a crown,  
by guilding a dire sword in his dear blood?  
Hector, nor Priam, no, nor Mars himself,  
only his Wife was his Bellona now.  
O miserable valour, to scape foes,  
and come for to be murdered of his friends!  
O shameful conquest! O most coward Fate!  
that a weak Woman was competitor  
in Agamemnon's death: had it been any, yet  
it should have been a Goddess at the least;  
and yet she's but a Queen, a mortal Woman.  
Were she a Goddess, I would make her mortal.  
Dull coward that I am, and worse than all,  
after so many wrongs, yet unrevenged:  
their Palace now should fire o'er their heads,  
and the huge beams dash out their guilty brains:  
The roof, should fall on me, so't fell on them.  
Begin revenge, and now perform an act,  
may give a theme to all posterity.  
ever to talk of, fraught so full of horror:  
Aegisthus and my Mother, may wish theirs,  
yet none was ever greater: yes, my deed.  
Revenge is lost, unless we do exceed.  Pyl. 
But a bad mother, friend, thou shouldst not hurt,  
the Law of Nature doth forbid such thoughts.  Orestes: 
Nor Gods, nor Nature, shall keep me in awe:  
why towards my mother, by heaven's Parliament,  
who is most guilty, is most innocent.  Can. 
Shall I thus by some Magic Art, my son,  
take both their pictures in pure virgin wax?  
And wound the place where that the hurt should stand,  
and so wound them?  Orestes. 
Tush, this is too little.  Can. 
Shall I breed them hate?  Orestes. 
Too little too.  Can: 
Shall I consume their children?  Orestes. 
All this too little:  
Hell and the Furies shall stand all amazed,  
Allecto shall come there for to behold  
new kinds of murders, which she knew not yet:  
and Nature learn to violate herself.  
I'll instantly to th'Court, and what I do,  
myself will see done, yes, and act it too.  
Thanks great Canidia, this black night being done,  
Revenge now knows her game whereat to run.  Exeunt omnes.   

Actus 4.  

Scena 1.  Enter in state, Aegisthus, Clytaemnestra, Tyndarus, Strophius, Electra, Nutrix; cum novo partu. Aegyst. 
NEver but when a royal offspring comes  
from a King's loins, can he be truly King.  
Then doth he sit firm, rooted in his state,  
then is he truly man, and then the gods  
he knows do love him, which when Kings do want,  
the curse of Nature doth deny them fruit,  
and brands their bed with loathed sterility.  Tynd. 
Aegisthus, since the gods have blessed you so,  
have care their blessings turn not to your wo.  
Your joy, my daughter's joy, and my joy too,  
have care it be preserved, and brought up well:  
And take heed, son, of Agamemnon's blood,  
Pierce not with envy the Babes tender heart.  Aegyst. 
Tush Father, now, not without grief I speak,  
all brooks which from the Princely Ocean ran,  
are quite dried up, only Electra here,  
our dear Electra, whose great weight of love  
is in our balance equally so poised,  
that she shall ever think her Father lives,  
our heart shall be so parallel with hers.  El. 
Yes, great Aegisthus, were't but our mother's will,  
what she thinks good of, I must not think ill:  
Besides, your love e'er since my father's death,  
as if it came from his departing soul,  
and forthwith had revived again in you,  
hath held a prospective for me, to see  
his care redoubled, though the objects changed:  
And, for I lost a brother, if you please,  
that I may challenge in your royal blood,  
here do I tie with all affections bands,  
myself unto this Babe, which is as dear  
unto my soul, as were Orestes here.  Clyt. 
Daughter, your heart now with obedience strung,  
makes a sweet music sounding from your tongue.  
Nurse, Bring the Babe. Give it Electra; so,  
you daughter shall have oversight of it.  Nutr. 
O, shall I part from't then?  Cly. 
No good Nurse, no,  
Electra with her care, you with your pains.  Nutr. 
Now by Lucina, had it gone away,  
I should have sit, and sobbed away my heart;  
'Tis the sweetest Babe that ever Nurse did kiss.  Aegyst. 
Look here good father, look my nobles here,  
upon this Babe scarce crept yet out of earth,  
for you shall grow an Autumn of ripe years,  
when time hath brought it to maturity.  
Look on thy grandchild, Tyndarus, see, 'tis thine,  
this came from thee, old-man; see how it smiles  
upon the Grandsire, as if wise Nature had  
taught him his kindred's Names 'fore he came forth.  Tynd. 
I see't Aegyst. & my aged blood grows warm,  
as if myself were a new father made,  
and all the blessings I can render it,  
shall drop like golden showers on the head:  
Me thinks it doth recall my sliding age,  
and makes swift time retire back again:  
It doth unfold those wrinkles in my face,  
which grief and years had fixed as their signs  
upon my brow, and now it shall be seen,  
although my hairs are grey, my joys are green.  Clyt. 
Long may our Father his opinion hold,  
and you, our daughter, let not sinister thoughts  
wrong your suspicious mind, though this being young,  
it makes our Lord, and me to speak our joys;  
yet our affection, and our natural love,  
is not a whit to you diminished.  
A Mother can be Mother unto many,  
and as from one Root hid within the ground,  
springs many flowers, that lends sap to all;  
So from a Parent's heart run veins of love,  
which, though to many they without do flow,  
yet from one heart, one Root, they all do grow.  Elect. 
I hope our gracious Mother cannot think  
we do suspect her love; witness this charge,  
which you have blessed my arms and soul withal:  
and as your love committed it with care,  
my care shall still defend it with my love.  Aegyst. 
We thank our daughter, come Lord Strophius, come,  
grief still sits heavy on your sighing heart.  
Be frolic, learn of us; in all the grace,  
and pleasure our Court extends, you shall have place.  Stroph. 
I thank my gracious Lord, time hath by this,  
almost eat out the memory of our son,  
and since the heavens let fall their dew on you,  
and watered Argos with such springing hopes;  
I will not seem a stock uncapable  
of such a general comfort, but revive  
my buried thoughts, and for my Sovereign's sake,  
old Strophius will a young man's person take.  Aegyst. 
We thank old Strophius, and if honour can  
keep thee still young, our Princely hand is wide,  
and freely shall extend all Graces on thee,  
and you all our Subjects, which bear part  
thus in our joy. And here I do proclaim,  
and personally from my own Mouth pronounce,  
sealing it with the Signet of my State,  
A general immunity to all  
Murders, Rapes, Treasons, Thefts, Conveyances,  
which have been from the birth of our dear Child,  
in all the Confines of our Empire done;  
nor shall your licence date be quite expired,  
till the slow year seven times runs out his course.  
Ourselves thus speak it; until then all's free,  
Kings win their Subjects by immunity.  Exeunt omnes. Manent Strophius, & Electra. Stroph. 
Electra, you are happy in your charge.  Electr. 
Yes, Uncle, and you happy in your favour.  Nur. 
Madam, Shall I stay here until you come?  Comes back. Electr. 
Yes, Nurse, sit down and sing, look to the Babe,  
I'll only with my Uncle change a word.  Nurse sings. 
Lullaby, lullaby Baby,  
Great Argos joy,  
The King of Greece thou art born to be,  
In despite of Troy.  
Rest ever wait upon thy head,  
Sleep close thine eyes,  
The blessed guard, tend on thy bed,  
Of Deities.  
O, how this brow will beseem a Crown!  
How these locks will shine!  
Like the rays of the Sun on the ground,  
These locks of thine.  
The Nurse of heaven still send thee milk,  
Mayst thou suck a Queen.  
Thy drink Jove's Nectar, and clothes of silk,  
A God mayst thou seem.  
Cupid sit on this Rosean cheek,  
On these ruby lips  
May thy mind like a Lamb be meek,  
In the vales which trips,  
Lullaby, Lullaby Baby, etc.  Elect. 
You never heard from my brother, Uncle,  
nor from your son! they have been long away!  Stroph. 
In troth, Electra, I am in despair,  
almost of ever seeing them again;  
Sure if Orestes live, and ever hear,  
unto what pass Aegisthus brings his state,  
seated him in the throne, and's mothers bed,  
and like to leave Argos hereditary  
to his Posterity, it cannot e'er be born,  
Orestes spirit will endure no scorn.  Elect. 
Uncle, his long delays make me surmise,  
or he will never come, or come with prize;  
He, if now come, he must not show himself,  
but live unknown, unnamed, or change his name.  Str. 
His name, Electra, yes, and's nature too,  
which I do fear me he will hardly do.  
But if we hear not from them now e'er long,  
I'll listen by some means about the land,  
to hear of them; mean time you to your charge,  
officious duty must our lives enlarge.  Elect. 
Come Nurse. Exeunt.   

Scen. 2.  Enter Orestes, and Pylades. Orestes. 
O, here's the Palace under whose kind roof  
My tender years were gently softered:  
But now the sight on't seems to strike my soul,  
when I but think it holds within the walls,  
the patrons of such lust, incarnate devils,  
mere Pythonists, that facinate the world.  Pyl. 
Nay, but Orestes, think now of yourself,  
complain not of your wrongs, but seek to right them.  
We might have lived i'th' woods still to complain,  
and to that purpose we may turn again.  
Whet up your former thoughts, and spend not time,  
to rave, but to revenge this odious act.  
We know they were their shapes, and no Chimaeras.  Orestes. 
O, Pylades, know I thou art my friend?  Pyl. 
I hope you think it.  Orestes. 
I do, I dare swear it,  
so I dare swear it was Aegisthus, and  
the dumb Witch, the— O, what thing's enough  
to be an attribute to term her by?  
The Clytaemnestra, O, we saw her do't.  Pyl. 
'Twas a black deed indeed, and past all thought.  Orestes. 
O, Hell itself has not the pattern to't:  
Some stench, some fogs and vapours stop their breath,  
exhaled from out the dampish womb of Styx.  
Did ever foul, disastrous, fiendlike hands,  
cast up so huge a heap of hellbred mischief?  
Were I to dive toth' depth of Phelgeton.  
or fetch young Gaenimed from the arms of Jove,  
to rend Proserpina from Pluto's bed,  
or take the vulture from off Titius' heart,  
and set it on my Mothers, I would do't;  
I'll break ope doors, and nail 'em to their bed;  
hark, revenge calls me, I come, I come.  Pyl. 
Nay, still outrageous friend, good now contain  
your heady fury in wisdoms rein:  
harken to my advice.  Orestes. 
I will, dear friend,  
thou hast played music to my doleful soul;  
and when my heart was tympanized with grief,  
thou lav'dst out some into thy heart from mine,  
and kepst it so from bursting; thou hast tied  
with thy kind counsel, all these loosened strings,  
they should not crack asunder with their weight.  Pyl. 
Then listen now, the best plot I can think,  
is this: We here will live a while unknown:  
Orestes, thy Profession shall be Physic,  
I as your friend t'company you at Court;  
carry it neatly, learn a few strange words,  
palliate your woe a while, and coop up grief,  
you may in time so minister to the King;  
Physics occasion fit revenge may bring.  Orestes. 
Rarely invented, I'll speak Aphorisms,  
sublimed Purgations, Quintessence distilled,  
each Dose I give shall make a heart to bleed,  
and prove a true Physician so indeed.  Enter Misander, having o'r-heard their talk. Mys. 
'Twas my good Genius guided me here now,  
to hear Conspiracy; wherefore I'll attach them.  
Save you Gentlemen.  Ore. 
Save you too, if you please.  Pyl. 
Sir, 'twas small manners to interrupt our talk,  
and give no warning of your being near.  Mys. 
Warning? you shall have warning, yes, I know  
I heard you both, and understood your plot,  
you'll turn Physician, Sir, and give rare Clysters,  
shall work like Stibium, to purge our hearts:  
You thought to act well true Physicians parts.  Orestes. 
Therefore on thee our Medicine first shall work.  Stabs him. Mys. 
Help, murder.  Orestes. 
Nay Parasite, I'll gag you,  
you shall not fawn again, or wag your tail,  
when the King nods.  Mys. 
O help me, I am slain.  Pyl. 
Stop his breath quickly, if but he be dead,  
we may escape the danger of the treason.  Orestes. 
Nay he is silent; O, but we are beset.   

Scena 3.  Enter a Lord and others at the outcry. Lor. 
Look out, me thought I heard one cry out murder,  
some voice I am sure did disturb the Court,  
it was Mysanders' voice, me thought that cried,  Spies him dead. 
and see, he's slain; one whom the King's esteem  
did rank among the best; there are the Murderers:  
Fellows, how durst you thus abuse the Court?  
Go, haste to 'th' King, tell him the men be here.  Pylad. 
Gentlemen, we as lovers to the Court,  
came here as strangers, for to see the King,  
this man being coming out, too soon for us;  
and for himself used us uncivilly;  
we have been Gentlemen, though our Fortunes now  
have put on Beggar's weeds upon our backs:  
who answering in the same sort he proposed,  
he struck us, and men cannot endure blows:  
so thinking much to be struck again,  
he grew so hot, he drew and made a Stab;  
at which encounter both enclosing him  
'twixt us he took a wound worse than we thought  
to give, for we did think to have given none;  
But since 'tis thus, we must appeal to th' King.  Lor. 
Yes; and here comes his Majesty in person.   

Scena 4.  Enter Aegisthus, with a Guard. Aegy. 
A Guard there on us, here is murder done.  
What, is Misander killed, our trusty servant?  
Where are the vilians?  Orestes. 
O hold good heart, hark, hark, he calls us villains.  Aegy. 
What is the matter? speak, how came he dead?  
They shall die two deaths, that did cause him one.  O est. 
O I am now undone; he must sit judge,  
to condemn us, that should massacre him.  Pyl. 
Nay, keep a temper, hold good friend a while.  Lord. 
My gracious sovereign, these two be the men,  
which have confessed the deed:  Aegyst. 
Are you the men which thus abused our state?  
Was't one or both? if both, you both shall die;  
if one, that one: we're just in our Decree.   

Scen. 5.  Enter Clyt. Tynd. Strophius, Electra. 
What, is my Queen come here, to hear the Cause?  
We'll then ascend, and judge them instantly.  Ascends the Throne. Or. 
O crack my eye-strings, let these balls drop out,  
or the quick sights like darts fly to their souls,  
and pierce their entrails; he King, my mother Queen!  
The Briseis and Achilles, that in my dream.  
We come to be condemned amongst our friends.  
I will speak to them, Electra's there,  
And Storphius, your old Father, Pylades.  Pyl. 
Show thyself valorous, o'ercome thyself:  
If we be known, we surely are condemned.  Aegyst. 
Father, Lord Strophius, sit and hear the cause.  Clyt. 
Why, my Lord, what is't makes the business thus?  Aegyst. 
My Queen shall straightway know; Bring them away.  
Although it is not fallen out of our mind,  
of a free act of pardon of all faults  
committed in the date of such a time,  
our hand of mercy must not be so soft,  
to cover o'er with gentle lenity,  
such ulcerous sores as these; there is no place  
for mercy left; murder must not find grace:  
Therefore our doom is past, one needs must die,  
blood still for blood unto the gods will cry.  Orestes. 
Then, if thy doom be spent, great King here stands;  
the man that did it, showing his guilty hands.  Pylad. 
O hold thy doom a while; it was not he,  
His serious studies in the learned Arts,  
hearing acute Philosophers dispute  
'twixt life and death, and of a future state  
would fain haste to it; but the man was I:  
believe not him, 'twas his desire to die.  Orestes. 
No King, 'tis he which in his desperate thoughts,  
would lose the bands betwixt his soul and him;  
ones self against ones self is witness store,  
myself confesses, what wouldst thou have more?  Pyl. 
Believe him not, upon my knees I vow,  Knelt. 
these hands are only branded with the guilt,  
and for ones blood, let not two lives be spilt.  Orestes. 
And on my knees I the like Oath do take,  
I gave the stab, my Dagger's bloody yet.  Pyl. 
That was my Dagger, King, he took't from me.  Or. 
He does me wrong, by—, 'twas ever mine.  Aegyst. 
This doth amaze us, I ne'er yet saw two  
turn Rhetoricians so to plead for death.  
Would not the pardon of this odious fact,  
like a foul stench, or an unwholesome air,  
send an infectious vapour through the Land,  
and choke up Justice; this fidelity  
should for this one time set two murderers free.  Cly. 
Now good my love, methinks I pity them,  
and prithee for my sake (I know them not)  
abate thy edge of Justice for this once.  Orestes. 
O what she spoke! to damn it had been better.  Aegyst. 
My love, thou know'st I never look too stern  
upon a fault that could ask lenity.  
But this is so transcendent, and so great,  
it must not be slipped with impunity.  
To do a heinous murder, and i'th'Court,  
i'th' place of Justice, where the King might hear,  
upon a chief attendant of the Kings!  
Murder itself is passed all expiation,  
the greatest crime that Nature doth abhor:  
not being, is abominable to her;  
and when we be make others not to be,  
'tis worse than bestial: and we did not so,  
when only we by nature's aid did live  
a Heterogeneous kind, as semibeasts,  
when reason challenged scarce a part in us;  
but now doth manhood and civility  
stand at the Bar of Justice, and there plead,  
how much they're wronged, and how much defaced  
when man doth die his hands in blood of man.  
Judgement itself would scarce a Law enact  
against the murderer, thinking it a fact  
that man 'gainst man would never dare commit,  
since the worst things of nature do not it.  Orestes. 
O how his words now rail against a sin,  
which beat upon his Conscious thoughts within!  
His tongue speaks fair, his inparts, look on them,  
and they like Jurymen himself condemn: Aside.  Pyl. 
But O great King, if justice must have right,  
let me stand only guilty in thy sight.  Orestes. 
No, 'tis not, King, 'twas I that did the deed,  
and for my action, let no other bleed.  Aegyst. 
In troth this makes my Doom it cannot fall:  
Will none of you confess? Strophius weeps.  Orestes. 
Yes, I confess.  Pylad. 
No King, 'tis I confess.  Aegyst. 
How now Lord Strophius, what affects you so,  
that makes your tears bewrayers of some passion?  Stroph. 
My gracious Sovereign, this strange spectacle  
renews the Memory of my once great loss,  
and my dear Queens, we once were blessed with two,  
which so had linked themselves in bands of love,  
as these men now do seem to me they have.  
One stream of love did in two hearts so glide,  
one with the other lived, with th'other died.  
And would my Queen be my competitor,  
for our Son's sake my suits should join with her,  
since Justice craves but one, and both will go,  
even save them both, and right wronged Justice so.  Clyt. 
I, good my love, let Justice come and look,  
if she can find in all her Statute Book,  
two men for the same crime should rightly die;  
she will not say so, Justice cannot lie.  
And since they both will die, let one's love save  
the others life, and so both life shall have.  Aegyst. 
In troth my Queen, and my old Lord have moved.  
Well, since your loves are both so strongly tied,  
and friendship like an old acquaintance sends  
to her friend Justice that she should be mild,  
and looks with eyes of Mercy on your fault,  
considering our immunity proclaimed,  
and such Petitioners as you both have got,  
Death in our Sentence, now shall have no part;  
whilst who should have done worst, confession strives,  
too much confession thus saves two men's lives:  
But now we must demand, what you made here?  
What business or condition you profess?  Pylad. 
Great King, our duty owes to thee our lives,  
and were we men that strived to set a cloud  
before these gifts, Art hath instructed us,  
or we have purchased at a most dear rate,  
of cost and labour; yet thy clemency  
commands us to lay open all to thee:  
yet for myself I rather count my state  
blessed that I lighted on this honest man;  
whose accurate and watchful indagation,  
hath taught him for to heal the wounds of Nature,  
by his exceeding skill in wholesome herbs;  
one, that when I did think my shred of life  
had been quite cut, did tie it up again,  
and make it last: recalled my youthful days,  
and made me Aeson-like, become thus young;  
for which great practice I did owe my life,  
and thence proceeded our late pious strife.  Aeg. 
Nay then I'm glad our mercy did extend  
on men whom such rare virtues do commend;  
our love shall then grow greater, & our Court  
shall entertain you, an't may chance we will,  
my Queen and I, make trial of your skill.  Orestes. 
My gracious Sovereign, words must not have wings,  
to pass and to outfly the bounds of truth,  
only to win the Elixir of opinion;  
but for my friend, I here profess so much,  
and for my life do stand so deeply bound,  
that all my Art can ne'er make recompense.  
Please but your Grace's self▪ and your dear Queen,  
appoint the secrets of the safest room  
to let me show myself to none but you;  
though Nature dried up with too much time,  
deny to spring in fruit from forth your loins,  
or any other strange impediment;  
our Art preserves from sickness ruining.  
And 'twill be blessed to show it to a King.  Aegyst. 
Ha', prithee let me speak with thee apart.  
Thou strik'st on tunes now, make me glad to hear,  
we will commit our secrecy to thee.  
Canst water barren Wombs with such a dew,  
shall make 'em flourish and wax green with fruit?  
Although we cannot altogether blame,  
that Nature hath been too unkind to us;  
yet we would plant each corner of our Realm  
with springing Branches of our Royal self,  
to compass in ourselves, and we stand in the midst.  
Kings in their Children do great blessing find,  
and great men love to Propagate their kind.  Orestes. 
Great Sovereign, boasting words shall ne'er outweigh  
the things I will perform, I speak not fame,  
but what I have said, I will do the same.  Aegyst. 
We like thy temper well, and we will trust;  
therefore this night we will appoint it so,  
thou shalt be guided to our secretest room,  
and there shalt use thy skill; which if it take,  
our love shall honour thee for Physics sake.  Exeunt Aegyst. Clyt. Tynd. Orestes. 
Good heavens I thank you, your effectual power  
hath showed your justice in this blessed hour.  
Now is occasion put; thus murder lays  
the trap wherein itself, itself betrays.  Pyl. 
Old Lord, a word with you.  Orestes. 
and with you Lady.  They take Stroph. and Elect. back. Pyl. 
Had not you once a Son loved the young prince?  Stop. 
Yes Sir, but Fates envied my happiness,  
and holds both Prince and Son away too long.  Orestes. 
And had not you a brother (Lady) once?  
When heard you of him last? He went to travel.  Elect. 
In truth I had, but I can hear no news.  They discover themselves. Stro. 
O see! my son! welcome my dearest boy.  Elect. 
Our Brother, our Orestes is come home.  Stroph. 
'Tis they indeed; O how my blood revives!  
Let me embrace them; O you're welcome home,  
now is the Autumn of our sorrow done.  Elect. 
What silent place hath smothered you so long?  
Of what great Powers have you counsel ta'en,  
concerning the great Plot you had in hand?  Orestes. 
Uncle, and Sister, we must not stand now  
embracing much, and bidding welcome home;  
you see before I come, how things do stand:  
My business hastens; and my friend, and I,  
have yet a greater Project to perform:  
Only Electra, we must have your aid,  
to help us with their Child, for now's the time,  
when blessed occasion strives to help revenge.  Elect. 
Why Brother, is the Child in any fault?  
that was unborn when that our Father died:  
And 'tis a lusty boy: O hurt not that.  Orestes. 
Tush, I must have it, it shall have no hurt,  
worse than my Father:  Elect. 
Shalt not, indeed.  Orestes. 
Believe me, no worse hurt; but let's be gone.  
I'll be a tripod Paracelsian.  Exeunt.  

Scen. 6.  Enter a Chamberlain, and a Boy to sweep the Room. Cham. 
Boy, sweep the room, set each thing in his place,  
the King and Queen take Physic here to night.  Boy. 
Sir, and you'll help me, I am ready here,  They set a Table. Cham. 
Fetch them two Chairs.  Boy. 
Yes, Sir.  
What Carpet mean you shall be spread a'th' board?  Cham. 
That of red velvet, set the silver cups,  
there may be use of them to take the potion:  Sets two bowls. 
So, now all's well, the room is well prepared.  Enter Orestes, like a Doctor of Physic. Orestes. 
Is this the room, friend, where the King must be?  Cham. 
Yes, this is the room Sir, 'tis the privat'st, this.  Orestes. 
You must avoid it then, and tell his Grace,  
that I stay here provided 'gainst he come.  Cham. 
His Grace shall know it. Exit.   

Scena 7.  Enter Pylades, with a little boy in's hand. Pyl. 
I faith Orestes, prithee spare the child,  
it hath no fault, but 'tis too like thy mother.  Orestes. 
Like my mother, O most execrable!  
hadst ranked the confused Chaos of all sins,  
thou couldst not have found out a fault more black,  
more stinking, more infectious to my heart.  
Art like my mother, O transcendent crime!  Child. 
Some say I'm eyed like her, but in the face  
I do resemble most the King my father.  Pyl. 
Poor babe.  Orestes. 
The King thy father! yes, too like them both.  Child. 
Electra says, I'm somewhat like Orestes,  
her brother that is dead.  Orestes. 
How, like Orestes! when didst see him child?  Child. 
Indeed I never saw him, but I love him.  Pyl. 
Alas, dear friend, see the pretty knave.  Ore. 
Would thou wert not my mothers, I could weep,  
but see, O see now my relenting heart,  
must now grow flinty, see my father, see,  
now to show pity were impiety.  Enter Agamemnon's ghost, passing o'er the stage all wounded. Ghost. 
Why flags revenge? see thy now yielding soul,  
made me burst open my strong jawed sepulchre,  
and rip the cerecloth from my wounded breast.  
O can a child smile blank the memory  
of all these horrid wounds, that make me groan,  
in the dark caverns of the uncoucht earth?  
from whence I come for to infect thy soul  
with air of vengeance, may make Acheron,  
yea, and ourselves, at the performance quake.  
Fruit of our loins, first vigour of our youth,  
look on these wounds, as on the Gorgon's head,  
and turn thy heart to stone: hover revenge  
is fallen into thy hands, O grasp her close  
by her snake knotted front, and make her do  
things may incite a horror to herself.  
Forget all mother, in that disloyal witch,  
whose damned heat raging in strumpet's blood,  
so soon did condescend to murder me.  
By all the rights of Father I conjure thee:  
By Atreus, Atreus, he whose revengeful soul  
is echoed through the world superlative;  
do thou make Nemesis as great a feast,  
and be enthronised in her fiery chair,  
in her triumphant chariot ever ride,  
in which, Bears hurry her from the womb of hell,  
and bear this Title as thy deserved hire,  
the brave revenger of thy murdered sire.  
Think on me, and revenge. Exit.  Orestes. 
Stay, stay, and see't,  
stay Spirit, thou strik'st no terror to my soul:  
For unamazed I now would dare out-look  
ranks of Medusa's, and the grim aspect  
of the most frowning object hell affords.  
Think on me and revenge! yes, those two words  
shall serve as burden unto all my acts,  
I will revenge, and then I'll think on thee:  
I'll think on thee, and then again revenge,  
and stab, and wound, and still I'll think on thee:  
I have a dropsy now to suck up fumes,  
and drink the reaking streams of vengeance foam:  
Great Agamemnon's Ghost, I will bedew  
thy hearse with blood in stead of brinish tears,  
and build a pile up of their murdered trunks,  
to burn thy marrowless consumed bones.  
Arrows of forked lightning never flew  
more swiftly from the awful arms of Jove,  
than Nemesis black Scorpions from me.  Pyl. 
'Twas a strange sight.  Ore. 
I, didst thou see't friend?  
all of those wounds will I stick in his breast.  Pyl. 
Alas, one will be enough for him?  Orestes. 
I, but she shall have more. A while go by:  Pylades takes the child aside: 
Were all the world their lives, the world should die.  
Now Tragedy fetch out thy crimson robes,  
and buckle sure thy purple buskins on,  
steeped ten grains deeper in their scarlet die;  
this night shall give me now a deep carouse,  
of Clytemnestrae's and Aegisthus' blood,  
and Cerberus himself stand by to pledge me,  
whilst to hell's fire I shall sacrifice  
three Hecatombs; it doth the furies good,  
when e'er we wet their Altars with such blood.  
And now ye fiends of hell, each take a place,  
as 'twere spectators at a first day's play;  
raise all the hellish winds to expel nature:  
Great Goddess give me leave now to forget  
all strains of duty; all obedient thoughts  
die in me quite: a mother's memory,  
pious affections take no hold on me.  
Be all my senses circled in with Fiends,  
and let Erynnis hold her flaming brand  
to guide my murderous sword; for all lights else,  
vanish from out this Centre, be this room fraught  
so full of mischief, may make the Fabric crack,  
and let no time now come into my thoughts,  
but that dire night wherein my father died.  
I'll only be a Doctor now in word,  
each potion that I give shall be my sword.  
But I must change.   

Scena. 8.  Enter Aegisthus and Clytaemnestra, in their night-robes. Aegyst. 
O Doctor, you are busy for our coming.  Orestes. 
My gracious Lord, I had no cause to fail.  Orestes looking on the cups. Clyt. 
Nay, but is this fit time for physic, Doctor?  Orestes. 
First, Madam, for the physic that I give,  
now the diastal fabric of your pulse,  
shows all your passions most hysterical.  
Pleaseth your Grace sit down? on at each end o'th' table.  Aegyst. 
Yes, must we sit? sit there my Queen.  Orestes. 
Yes, now is Saturn, governor of nature,  
in free conjunction with the planet Venus:  
And just at this time Jupiter begat  
great Hercules: Sol, Luna, Mercury.  
in that Diameter, now favour propagation,  
and now will my Alexipharmacon  
stir the Analeptick veins and arteries:  
If you outlive this night, you'll live to see  
a royal, strange, and Princely progeny.  Aegyst. 
Thinkest thou so, Doctor?  Orestes. 
Think it, nay, I know't.  
Hem.  Clyt. 
Surely he means to work rare Art upon us.  Aegy. 
Pray God thy physic take.  Ore. 
Yes, it shall take.  
Hem.  Pylades binds Clytaemnestra to the chair: Orestes Aegisthus: Pylades brings in the child. Egy. 
Treason, we are betrayed.  Or. 
Nay, 'tis your privat'st room.  
View me well mother, ha', do you know me yet?  Puts off his gown. 
Here, here's the drugs my Art hath thought upon:  
be pitiless now Pylades, be my friend.  Child. 
O help me father, else these men will kill me.  Egyst. 
O my boy, my boy.  Orestes. 
O you're fast bound.  
Yes, he is thine, thy face, thy eyes, thy heart,  
and would I knew where Nature had couched most,  
of thy damned blood, I thus would let it out,  Stabs the child. 
and thus't should spirit in thy most loathed face.  Egy. 
O now the heaven's rain vengeance on our heads.  Child. 
O mother, mother, save me, save me father.  Orestes. 
Hold Pylades, be steadfast, for by—  
he wounds me, that persuades me not to wound.  Clyt. 
O turn thy bloody weapon on my breast,  
'twas this womb that brought forth this babe and thee,  
If that be guilty, I have made it so.  
Rip up this place which first did bring thee forth,  
'tis I entreat thee, 'tis thy mother, she  
which gave thee hous-room here within this breast,  
upon whose dugs thy infant lips did hang.  Orestes. 
It was my father, he entreated you,  
who many a time had clipped you in his arms,  
who made you Queen of Greece, yes, it was he,  
good Agamemnon, he did plead for life.  Egyst. 
Bath not thy hands in a poor infant's blood,  
nor in thy mothers, I deserve to die:  
and yet remember how my doom saved thee,  
how easily mercy did obtain her suit.  Orestes. 
Nay, but Aegisthus, you can aggravate,  
to do a heinous murder, and i'th' Court;  
I'th' place of Justice, where the King might hear,  
upon a chief attendant of the Kings.  
Murder itself is passed all expiation,  
a crime that nature most of all abhors,  
and look how manhood and civility,  
stand at the bar of Justice, and there plead,  
how much they're wronged, and how much defaced,  
when man doth die his hands in blood of man.  
Now harken King, I'll use thy Rhetoric,  
thou didst a heinous murder in the Court,  
not which the King did hear, but which he felt;  
when no petition could (good man) prevail,  
therefore this dies, this first shall have his due,  Stabs it again, that the blood spirits in his face. 
this mischief done, revenge shall prompt anew.  Aeg. 
O, the gods blush, and heaven looks pale at this,  
a father's face besmeared with his child's blood!  Orestes. 
My haste deceives my will; tush, all this yet,  
may be called piety; you shall taste too, mother.  Turns it to her. Clyt. 
O, why dost banish nature from his place?  
Look on thy mother's tears, worse than those groans,  
and pangs she had, when she first brought thee forth.  
When of thy friends or parents thou hast wrong,  
patience, not fury doth to thee belong.  
Is this the blessing that thy knee should ask?  
Repay'st thou thus my kisses and my tears,  
which flowed from me to thee in tender years?  Orestes. 
O why did you so banish womanhood,  
when you and this damned villain, base adulterer,  
made in my father's side so many wounds,  
and brought a brave old King into this state?  
See here's his bones, my pocket can contain.  Pulls bones from his pocket. 
great Agamemnon; and repaid you thus  
his kind embraces? all his loving signs?  
Aegisthus, you are thirsty, you shall drink,  Fills two cups with the child's blood: gives it them 
yes, you shall clear your throat, by— you shall.  Aegy. 
O mischief above mischief! what Heniochus  
bred on a stony rock, could e'er endure  
to see a father's thirst quenched with such blood?  
Hast thou no measure, hath revenge no end?  Ore. 
Who first doth mischief, may keep mean i'th' deed,  
but who revengeth, must all mean exceed.  
Nay mother we'll not bar you of your draught.  Gives one cup to her. Clyt. 
O Nature, see here all thy law infringed,  
a mother's prayers prevail not with her son.  Orestes. 
Pray with Thyestes, it shall never move me:  
But first Aegisthus, Do thou haste revenge.  Stabs him. Aegyst. 
O, I am wounded, O when dost thou end?  Orestes. 
Nay, I have scarce begun. Now mother, you.  Sabs her 
So now, I'll stand and look, and on hell call,  
nay, my revenge must not be usual:  
One more for thee Aegisthus; only let out  
the blood you drank before.  Aegyst. 
O, my heart feels it.  Orestes. 
Now mother you, and your love the same.  Clyt. 
O kill me quickly, time prolongs my woe,  
and since I must die, let me quickly go.  Orestes. 
You know your sentence; Let him feel he dies.  
who straight threats death, knows not to tyrannize.  Aegy. 
This brings ten deaths.  Or. 
Would 'twould an 100 bring,  
one death's too little to revenge a King.  
Hence, hence, adulterous soul to Tantalus,  
and let hell know who 'twas sent thee thither: he dies.  
Now, mother, you shall follow: but he first,  
lest that like Lovers you go hand in hand.  Clyt. 
Why son, whose death is it thou dost revenge?  
thy fathers? but on whom? upon thy mother!  
On her which brought thee forth, which took most care,  
to bring thee up, from whom thou tookst thyself?  
thou'rt sure thou art mine, but dost not know,  
who 'twas begat thee.  Orestes. 
Will't Bastardise me?  
Yes, mother, yes, I know I was his son:  
Alas! why, what are you? a senseless piece  
of rotten earth can do as much to corn,  
as you to me, bear it, and bring it forth;  
but Agamemnon, he that seed did sow,  
and only unto him myself I owe:  
and for him thou shalt die.  Clyt. 
O, I confess,  
my conscience tells me, I deserve no less:  
and thus thy mother from thee doth departed,  
leaving vexation to torment thy heart.  She dies. Orestes. 
Now friend, I see my father live again,  
and in his royal state at Argos Court:  
This is the night in which he first came home,  
O blessed powers of hell, divine Canidia,  
Now am I satisfied, now hath revenge perfection;  
and nothing grieves me, but that Tyndarus,  
my mother's father, did not see her die.  
I'll in and tell him, my thoughts must reveal  
those acts I do: this night who would conceal?  
Now soul triumph, whist that my deed shall shine,  
I'th' face o th' Court, and all the world know't mine.    

Actus 5.  

Scena 1.  Enter Orestes in his gown: Tyndarus, Strophius, Electra, Pylades, two Lords. Ore. 
My Lord, your daughter's potion works most rarely;  
the King's asleep, God bless his Majesty.  
O, do not wake him, faith 'tis pity, la.  Tynd. 
What do I see? ha', blood, the little child  
dead! my daughter bleed? Aegisthus' killed?  Orestes. 
Your Lordship's eyes do fail, 'tis but spilt wine.  Tynd. 
Lay hands o'th' villain, 'tis the Physician's deed.  Orestes. 
Nay friends, hands of 'tis no Physician now:  Discovers himself. 
See, see, old Tyndarus, dost thou know me yet?  
Fetch me my Crown and robes, nay, I'll ascend:  
Is not Atrides eldest son your King?  Tynd. 
What hast thou done, foul Viper, to eat out  
thy mother's bowels? what, was this thy deed?  
Thy silence says 'twas thine. What Tanais,  
Tigris or Rhenus, or what flowing sea,  
should wash thee in the salt Meotis stream?  
Or Tethis at full tide overflow thy banks,  
still would the spots of murder stick on them.  Orestes. 
Why Grandsire, I go not about to wash,  
by— 'twas all the fruit I thought to win,  
to think all mischief here could be no sin.  Tynd. 
See, see, thy mother, look upon her now,  
on her, whose eyes thou hast for ever closed,  
which eyes have often wakened at thy cry,  
and hushed thee with a lullaby to sleep:  
See, see, these hands, which oft with so much care,  
wrapped gently up thy unset tender limbs.  
See, see, this face, wont at thy signs to smile,  
when nature gave not leave unto thy tongue  
to utter thy child's meaning.  Orestes. 
See, see these bones, these nasty rotten bones,  
which had so often locked his hands in hers;  
here stood the tongue, which oft had called her sweet,  
dear Clytaemnestra, and then stopped his speech,  
and told his love in a more speaking sign.  
Here stood those eyes, which fed upon her face,  
and made her of thy daughter, a great Queen,  
and she made him a dish for loathed worms.  Tynd. 
Suppose she did, there was but one yet dead,  
and with ones death again should be repaid.  Orestes. 
No, Tyndarus, had I desired but one,  
I should have thought I had desired none.  
Why, methinks, I should too have killed thee,  
the number is too little yet of three.  Tynd. 
Into what land, what country wilt thou fly?  
all earth's, all lands, all countries will fly thee:  
the heavens will look with a more cheerful brow  
on Cerberus.  Orestes. 
Why, let heaven look as 'twill, 'tis my crown,  
that I have done an act shall make heave frown.  Tynd. 
O, what earth loves so much a guilty soul,  
that it can bear thee?  Orestes. 
Why, Sir, this is mine,  
and this shall bear me. Am I not right heir?  Tynd. 
Thou heir to kingdoms! thou a subject rather,  
to help to make a Player's Tragedy.  Ore. 
Why, that will make me swell with greater pride,  
to think my name shall drop in lines of blood,  
from some great Poet's quill, who well shall paint  
how bravely I revenged my father's death;  
that is the thing I wished, and 'tis my glory,  
I shall be matter for so brave a story.  
But where's my Crown?  1. Lord. 
No murderer, we'll rather join with him,  
this old man here, to take away thy life,  
than such a homicide shall frame us laws,  
who hath himself razed out the laws of Nature.  2. Lord. 
Yes, and we'll set here Argos crown on him,  
who shall enact some pnnishment for thee;  
which although none can equalise this deed,  
yet what our griefs can think, all shall be done,  
and we'll forget thou'rt Agamemnon's son.  Ore. 
Why, think you on your worst, I scorn to crave:  
I had three lives, you but my one shall have.  Tyn. 
Then since vile wretch, thou hast committed that,  
which while there is a world, throughout the world  
will be pronounced for the most horrid deed,  
that ever came into the thought of man;  
a thing which all will talk of, none allow:  
I here disclaim that name of Grandfather,  
and I must quite forget that in thy veins,  
my blood doth flow, but think it then let out,  
when thou lettest out my daughters. And since you,  
kind Lords, commit the state unto my years,  
years too unfit, heavens know, to bear a state:  
My mind, methinks, contends for to decree  
somewhat, which to myself I dare not tell.  
Just conceived wrath, and my affection strives,  
hate forbids pity, pity forbids hate,  
and exile is but barren punishtnent:  
Yet let me banish thee from out these eyes,  
O never let thy sight offend me more,  
all thy confederates, and all thy friends.  
You, Pylades, which did so smoothly cloak,  
the damned profession he did undertake:  
You, Strophius.  Strop. 
My Lord, I know not aught.  
Yet since one foot is now in Charon's boat,  
if it please you, set t'other too afloat.  Tynd. 
Not so, but I will banish you the Court,  
and you Electra; come, I must forget  
affection too towards you, you gave the child,  
which you had charge of, to the murderer's sword.  Elect. 
Why Grandsire, I herein no wrong do find,  
since all these go, I would not stay behind.  Tynd. 
Nay, but no one shall company the other,  
hence thou Cocytus, stream of this offence,  
Strophius and Pylades, Electra, hence.  Exeunt Strophius, Pylades, Electra. Orestes. 
Why farewell Grandsire, since thou bidst, I fly,  
and scorn companions for my misery.  Exit Orestes. Tynd. 
Unto this punishmeht this one more I add,  
that none shall dare to give Orestes food,  
and this decree shall stand; I speak with grief,  
and here pronounce Orestes no relief.  
Hence with these corpse; poor child, what hadst thou done?  
thy Nurse's prayers, that there might spring a rose,  
where e'er thou trodst could not keep back thy foes.  
Some plague he hath; but such a matricide  
should never die, although he ever died.   

Scena 2.  Enter Electra and Strophius. Elect. 
Thus never less alone, then when alone,  
where to ourselves we sweetly tell our woes.  
Thou Uncle, chief companion to our griefs,  
and soul partaker of our miseries,  
why do we live, when now 'tis come to pass,  
it is scarce known that Agamemnon was?  
He dies far easier, who at first doth drown,  
than he which long doth swim, and then sinks down.  Stroph. 
Nay Niece, me thinks I now do see the haven  
where my aged soul must leave this tossed bark,  
made weak with years and woes: yet I commend  
unto my son the heart of a true friend,  
that's all the will I leave, and let him know  
friendship should ever be, but most in woe.  
And so I leave thee Niece, I first must die,  
to hast a period to this Tragedy.  He dies. Elect. 
O envious Fates could you not use me thus?  
have I not grief enough to burst my heart?  
Was my life's thread twisted and knit so strong  
that the keen edge of all these miseries  
can never cut it off? must I bear more?  
'Tis all my safety now not to be safe.  
Are there so many ways to rid one's life,  
and can I hit on none? They say that death  
is every where, and yet I find him not:  
Tush, but I seek him not: why my own hand  
might grasp him to me, if I did but strive.  
Now hand help ease my heart, and make a way  
to let out grief, that hath so long dwelled here;  Stabs herself. 
Now knife thou'st done good service, there lie by,  
heaven well decreed it, nothing life can give,  
but every thing can make us not to live.   

Scena 3.  Enter Cassandra. 
Now Priam's Ghost, haste, haste I say, to look,  
with cheerful eyes on the sinister book,  
and there to Hecuba my mother show  
the tragic story of thy conquered foe.  
And let Andromecha my sister see,  
what Agamemnon's race is come to be.  
Now Troy may gratify that most sad doom,  
conquered by those that thus themselves overcome.  
let Greece so flourish still, let Argos be  
puffed with the pride of their great victory.  
Let it bear Soldiers, so withal it bear  
Orestes too; now mother, never fear  
Argos makes me to laugh, which made thee weep;  
the Trojans in the grave now sweetly sleep;  
their sorrow hath the end, now these begin  
to overflow themselves with mutual sin:  
And after all, Orestes, we may see,  
hath lost his reason, man's sole property.   

Scena 4.  Enter Orestes furens. Orestes. 
By— you shall not, nay, I am decreed:  
do, tear, tear me; yes, I have deserved it.  Cass. 
O brave, O brave, he's mad as well as I;  
I'm glad my madness hath got company.  Orestes. 
Mother, why mother, will you kill my father?  
Then I'll kill you; tush, I have done't already.  
Much patience will grow fury in time:  
follow you me, you, beast, you damned Aegisthus.  
I'll hue thee piece by piece, look off my mother.  Cass. 
I am she, or one loves thee well.  Ore. 
Out you witch, you witch.  Ca 
Murderer, murderer.  Orestes. 
Dost. whisper with the devils to torment me?  
O how they lash me with their snaky whips!  
Why Megaera, Megaera, wilt not hold thy hand?  
Are you there too, Erynnis? hay, all hell!  
my Grandsire Atreus he stands fight there,  
but he'll ha'th better on't; keep Cerberus, keep,  
keep the gates fast, or all hell breaks lose.  
Mother, I see you; O you are a whore.  
Did I kill you, witch, dost thou laugh, dost: thou?  Cass. 
Why this is fine, my very looks do whip him.  Orest. 
Can I but get the stone from Sisyphus,  
I'd dash thy brains out; O, are you there I faith,  Spies Strophius and Electra dead. 
a bed so close with your adulterer?  
I'll stab your lustful souls with your own knives.  Stabs them with Electra's knife. Cass. 
O clap, clap, O rare beyond expectation:  
hold good heart, do not burst with laughter.  Orestes. 
Will you not wake, sleep, sleep then your last.  
Look how they fly i'th' air.  Cas 
I see them, see them.  Orestes. 
Why Jove, dost mean to let them into heaven?  
O thou'rt come down, and gone to hell;  
Pluto, see Pluto, he's afraid of them,  
O spare my sides, my sides, my sides, the blood!  
O now you touch my ribs.  Cass. 
hay, how he skips! O excellent, whips himself!  
O sweet Catastrophe, does none see't but I?  
Clap, clap, again, would all Priam's sons  
and daughters were here now to help me laugh.  Orestes. 
Lash on, lash on. Canidia, art thou there?  
why grandsire, would it were to do again:  
nay Aeacus I fear no whipping posts,  
lavgh'st thou, thou witch? I'll follow thee to hell.  Exeunt currentes.  

Scen. 5.  Enter Pylades alone. Pyl. 
Thus seeking others, I have lost myself,  
my friend and father banished, and whilst I  
wander to seek them for to ease their woe,  
I here more grief proclaimed against my friend,  
that none must succour, none must give him food,  
and yet I'll seek him; and should all the laws,  
that tyranny should think upon, restrain,  
I'd draw my blood forth for to let him drink.  
But O what's here? O I have found too soon,  
one which I sought, my father's wearied soul  Spies Strophius dead. 
in sighs hath now expired out itself.  
Now, O ye sisters, your great task is done,  
you ne'er untwine what you have once begun.  
Thus obvious to our Fates, t'our self unkind,  
we haste to seek, that which too soon we find.  
Alas, why do our souls too greedy bourn,  
to hasten thither whence we ne'er return?  
We run to't of ourselves, ' sif death were slow;  
should he come tardy, we too soon should go.  
For the first day that gives us our first breath,  
doth make us a day nearer unto death.  
All this huge world, which now on earth so strive,  
to morrow this time may not be alive.  
Great Troy is down, since Agamemnon fell,  
since my dear father, which but now was well.  
O art thou come dear friend, for thee I sought,  Enter Orestes. 
here's some food yet, in spite of all the laws.  Orestes. 
Wilt bid me to dinner Pluto? ha', with what?  
Give me no snakes, I, I go, I go,  
up to Cithaerus' top, I hate thy meat.  Pyl. 
Heavens! he's distracted, now doth fury right,  
when thus against herself, herself doth fight.  
'Tis I (man) here, 'tis Pylades, not Pluto.  Orestes. 
Ha', Pylades, I, they have banished him,  
but grandsire look too't, I'll tear out your maw,  
Pylades, Pylades I come.—  Pylad. 
Why I am he, look friend, dost not know me?  Or. 
Yes, yes thou wert with me when I killed my mother,  
and see, the Furies now would whip thee too.  
Allecto! look, look, here's Allecto too.  
O Clytaemnestra, hay, how the Lion skips,  
and Taurus he would toss me on his horns.  
Look on the Ram, see the Bear roars at me,  
and Charon he would fling me into Styx.  Pylad. 
He fears the heavenly signs, nay then now time  
hath brought true punishment on every crime.  Orestes. 
Dash out the puppets brains, the little boy,  
the bastard, my mother's bastard: so blood spin,  
my mother killed my father, killed the King,  
but she got little by't, look on her breast,  
it bleeds, it bleeds; so, so Aegisthus, so.  Pylad. 
O what a strange distemper stirs his brain!  
Thou gentle Somnus, in whom care doth rest,  
kind father of cold death, and son of peace,  
which comes to Kings and poor men all alike,  
bind his disturbed brain, tie up his sense;  
let him but live to die, now 'tis not long  
before we both shall sing our funeral song.  Orestes. 
Ha! must I sink? can I not keep aloft?  
What is the stream so strong? why then I'll dive,  Falls a sleep. 
and come to hell the sooner.  Pylad. 
So gentle sleep,  
thou gatherest up his wand'ring brains again,  
this is but half dead, yet half dead he lies,  
but 'tis not long, before he wholly dies. Music within.  
Hark they play Music; O these sounds do harm,  
enticing woe with their melodious charm.  
These please not men in woe, these time do keep,  
but miseries best falling is to weep.  
Our stops are nought but sobs, our hearts we bring,  
whereon we prick the sol-fa which we sing.  A song within, together with the Music. 
Weep, weep you Argonauts,  
Bewail the day  
That first to fatal Troy  
You took your way.  
Weep Greece, weep Greece,  
Two Kings are dead,  
Argos, thou Argos, now a grave  
Where Kings are buried.  
No heir, no heir is left,  
But one that's mad,  
See Argos, hast not thou  
Cause to be sad?  
Sleep, sleep wild brain,  
Rest rock thy sense,  
Live if thou canst  
To grieve for thy offence.  
Weep, weep, you Argonauts, etc.  Pyl. 
Peace Music, peace, our plaints have louder cries,  
a heart that's sad can never harmonise.  
Grief cannot keep his time, all time's too long,  
sighs are best sembriefs to his doleful song.  
My ditties mournful, though thou sweetly play,  
thus do we all even blow our lives away.  Orestes wakes. 
But dost thou wake, Orestes? is rest fled?  
sleep ne'er dwells long in a molested head.  Orestes. 
Hark, hark, the Furies entertain my mother,  
Orpheus would fetch Eurydice from hell,  
see, he looks back, wouldst venture so, thou fool?  
I'd see my mother burnt before I'd go,  
why shouldst thou bring her? she would stifle thee,  
stifle thee in thy bed as my mother did.  Pyl. 
Still harping on thy mother?  Orestes. 
Harping, no,  
let Orpheus' harp: O, I, she was, she was,  
a very, very Harpy.  Pyl. 
Thus madness plays,  
and keeps a certain measure in his words.  Orestes. 
O I sucked out my mother's dearest blood,  
I did indeed, O she plague's me for't now,  
O I must go lie down in Tytius' place,  
Ixion too, he Sir would fain resign.  
I scorn your petty plagues, I'll have a worse,  
O the vulture, the wheel, the vulture.  Pyl. 
See how his conscious thoughts, like fiends of hell,  
do arm themselves, and lash his guilty soul!  
He see's no vulture, nor no Scorpion strikes,  
yet doth his conscience whip his bloody heart;  
he needs no witnesses, he hath within  
a thousand thoughts which testify his sin.  
No punishment so strict, no deadly smart,  
as private guilt, that smiteth on the heart.  Orestes. 
I did, I do confess I did, I killed them all,  
ripped up the womb that bear me; nay I did.  
O Tantalus thy plague; some meat, some meat;  
who pulls those apples hence? let them alone,  
nay sink to the bottom, I will follow thee,  Lies down to drink. 
the rivers dry, my mother hath drunk all.  Pyl. 
Alas, come, go with me, we will find drink.  Orestes. 
Is Pluto's buttery ope; his drink's too hot,  
I doubt 'twill scald me, but I'll taste on't yet.  
Th' Eumenideses stand to whip me as I go:  
Nay I will pass you, I will out-slip them all.  Exit currens. Pyl. 
See in his conscience lies hell's punishment,  
our own thoughts judges, none are innocent. Exit.   

Scen. 6.  Enter two Lords. 1. Lor. 
We that have here been born to see this change,  
may leave the Court, and tell our children tales,  
of the dier fall of Inachus great house.  
the young Prince mad, the Princess killed herself,  
old Strophius dead for grief; and murder heaped,  
corpse upon corpse, as if they meant t'invite,  
all hell to supper, on some jovial night.  2. Lord. 
Nay but my Lord, this is most pitiful,  
that the young Prince should thus from door to door,  
beg for his food, and yet none dare to give.  
I saw him wand'ring yesterday alone,  
flying from every Crow, or prattling Pie,  
crying out mother, and as if there had  
tormenting furies followed him with fraud;  
and truth, I thought to tell old Tyndarus,  
to move his ruthful years to pity him:  
and will you join petitioner with me,  
we'll tell the case, 'tis good t' ease misery.  1. Lord. 
My Lord I like your motion, and will join,  
for Agamemnon's sake my honoured Master.  Exit.  

Scena 7.  Enter Orestes, Pylades, with naked rapiers. Orestes. 
My fury leaves me, now I'm at my last,  
and now me thinks thou truly art a friend:  
now with undaunted spirit prevent my grief,  
and let thy rapier drink blood greedily,  
as if it loved it 'cause it is thy friends,  
now rid me of my woe, thy friendly vow  
never did truly show itself till now.  Pyl. 
Why then dear friend, I thus erect this arm,  
and will be strong to thee, as thou to me,  
we'll look upon our deaths with better face  
than others do on life; come Tyndarus, see,  
we scorn to live when all our friends are dead,  
nor shall thy fury make base famine be  
the executioner to my dearest friend,  
whilst I can kill him, therefore spite of thee,  
we'll free ourselves past all calamity.  Orestes. 
Yes Pylades, we will beguile our time,  
and make him search through every nook o'th' world,  
if he in all his race can ever spy,  
two that like us did live, like us did die:  
But we delay our death, now bravely come,  
and the last parting word shall be, strike home.  They run at one another. Pyl. 
O bravely struck dear friend, yet once again.  Run again. Orestes. 
Yes, at one thrust two friends must not be slain.  
O, how I love these wounds! heaven dropping showers,  
when the outrageous dog makes clouds of dust  
upon the thirsty earth, come not more sweet,  
than the blessed streams of blood thy rapier rain.  
Hence weapon; for my loins now scorn all props,  
but my friends arms, O, bear good legs a while;  
the weight of murder sits upon my soul,  
and bends my staggering joints unto the earth.  Pyl. 
Haste, haste, I faint, but O, yet let my strength be Atlas to sustain the falling world;  
Breathe, breathe sweet vapours of two trusty hearts,  
and let our breaths ascend to heaven before,  
to make a room hard by the frozen pole,  
where that our winged souls shall mount and sit,  
more glorious than the Concubines of Jove,  
wreathed with a Crown of rich enamelled stars,  
leaving all ages to deplore our death,  
that friendship's abstract perished with our breath.  Orestes. 
Fly thou best part of man, where Hecate  
born on the swarthy shoulders of the Even,  
sits in a grove of oaks, till grey eyed morn  
bids her to throw off nights black Canopy.  Pyl. 
Will't die before me? Stay, stay, I come.  Orestes. 
O grasp me then, our names like Gemini,  
shall make new stars for to adorn the sky.  
Is thy breath gone?  Pyl. 
O, yes, 'tis almost past,  
then both together, thus we'll breathe our last.  They fall down dead, embracing each other.  

Scena 8.  Enter in haste Tyndarus, Lords, with others. Tyn. 
Went they this way? my Lords, you move me much,  
could I find him now, I would seat him new,  
in his right Kingdom, which doth weigh down me.  1. Lord. 
I see my Lord, Orestes and his friend,  
without your leave, have made themselves an end.  Tynd. 
Then now is Argos Court like to some stage,  
when the sad plot fills it with murdered Trunks  
and none are left alive but only one,  
to ask the kind spectators plaudite,  
all else have bid valete to the world,  
the man reserved for that, is Tyndarus,  
who thus hath seen his children's children's end,  
his Grandchild, a bad son, a most dear friend;  
the Scene must now be overflowed with groans,  
each man sits down to wail his private moans.  
one for the Queen doth weep, one for the King,  
all taste the bitter waters of this Spring:  
the Nurse bewails the child, that part she bears,  
all have their subjects to bedew with tears;  
each one yet have but one; but all of me,  
challenge a part in griefs sad sympathy.  
Orestes, Clytemnestrae I must call,  
these all for mine, thus must I weep for all:  
let none believe this deed, or if they do,  
let them believe this punishment then too.  
'Tis vile to hate a Father, but such love,  
as breeds a hate toth' Mother, worse doth prove.  
Our life consists of air, our state of wind,  
all things we leave behind us which we find;  
saving our faults; witness Orestes here,  
who was his own tormentor, his own fear;  
Who flying all, yet could not fly himself,  
but needs must shipwreck upon murder's shelf:  
and so his breast made hard with misery,  
he grew himself to be his enemy.  
Thus grief and gladness still by turns do come,  
but pleasure least while doth possess the room.  
Long nights of grief may last, but lo, one day  
of shining comfort slideth soon away.  
He, whom all fear on earth, must fear a fate,  
for all our powers are subordinate.  
Three hours space thus well can represent,  
vices contrived and murders punishment.  
A Monarch's life can in this little space,  
show all the pomp that all the time doth grace.  
His rise and his falls, and in one span  
of time can show the vanity of man.  
For none of us can so command the powers,  
that we may say, to morrow shall be ours.  
Now fortunes wheel is turned, and time doth call,  
to solemnize this friendly funeral.  
No force so great, no so disaster wrong,  
as can unknit the band which holdeth strong  
united hearts: who since they thus are dead,  
one room, one tomb shall hold them buried.  
And as these friends joined hands to bear their Fate;  
so we desire you them to imitate.  
Who since they all are dead, we needs must crave,  
your gentle hands to bring them to their grave.    
FINIS.   

These Books are printed for, and sold by GA. BEDELL and THO. COLLINS, 1656. viz.  

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THe Complete Ambassador, by Sir Dudley Diggs, containing the Letters and Negotiations of Sir Francis Walsingham, the Lord Burleigh, and other Eminent Persons: being a perfect Series of the most remarkable Passages of State, both at home and abroad, in the Reign of Queen Elizabeth of blessed memory.  
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Sir Richard Baker's History of the Kings of England.  
Stows Chronicle, continued to the Year 1631. by Edmunt-Howes Gentleman, with an Appendix of the Universities of England.  
Seldeni Eadmerus. 

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Mr. Selden's History of Tithes.  
Clavels Recantation, or Discovery of the Highway Law.  
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Three Readins of the Lord Dyer, Brograve and Rysden, of Wills, Jointures and Forcible Entry.  
The Arguments of the Learned Judges, upon the Writ of Habeas Corpus, with the opinion of the Upper Bench Court thereupon, and Sir John elliot's Case.  
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The Christian Man, or the Reparation of Nature by Grace, written in French by that Elegant and Pious Author, John Francis Sennault, Englished by H. G. sometimes Student of Christ's Church in Oxford.  
Potter's Interpretation of the Number 666. or number of the Beast  
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Ross against Copernicus and Gallelaus, a learned Philosophical piece concerning the Earth's motion.  
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Davenports Abridgement of the Lord Cooks Institutes on Littleton.  
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