THE COMBAT OF Love and Friendship, A Comedy, As it hath formerly been presented by the Gentlemen of Ch. Ch. in OXFORD.  
By ROBERT MEAD, sometimes of the same college.  
LONDON, Printed for M. M. G. Bedell, and T. Collins, at the Middle Temple Gate, Fleetstreet. 1654.   

The Stationer to the Reader.  
THe Scene is vanished, and with it, all encouragement to this musical part of human Learning. I murmur not against any that sit at the helm, though Policy of State have formerly allowed the exercise of these Recreations in time of Troubles, as a means to divert Tumultuary and Turbulent spirits, whose otherwise uncorrected heat would be employed to the distraction of the most considerable affairs, and Persons of the Common Wealth.  
My business is not to vindicate the Stage, but to present thee Reader with a Play, without swelling thy expectation, for it comes forth ushered only with the name of the Author in the Title Page, in which, it hath more ornament, than all the Silken Fillets of our Time can bestow upon it, he having been a Person, whose eminent and general Abilities have left him a character, precious and honourable to our Nation.  
Look not therefore upon this composition, but as at a stoop, when his youth was willing to descend from his then higher Contemplations.  
I could say more in his honour, but he was so great a Lover of Humility in his life, that I almost fear, being dead, he may be displeased to hear his own worth remembered.  
I have done; Reader, peruse at thy opportunity, this pasthume, and know, as the author would disdain to be angry with thy dislike if he were alive, so he would not stain his ingenuity to Court thee into his praise; The Publisher only hath an ambition it may delight thee, whose design thou Mayst easily pardon.  
Farewell.   

The actor's Names.  

LYsander servant to Artemone.  
Theocles his friend her brother, servant to Ethusa.  
Philonax servant to Artemone, an admirer of himself.  
Melesippus Father to Artemone,  
Diarchus his brother.  
Pisistratus a foolish Captain.  
Lamprias a small Poet rivals, in love with Ethusa.  
Miserotos an Enemy of Love.  
Artemone a Lady first in love with  
Lysander, after with Philonax.  
Panareta a Lady in love with Lysander.  
Ethusa her sister a scornful Lady.  
Hyperia woman to Artemone.  
Eudora woman to Ethusa.  
Theocles his Page.  
Attendants.    

THE combat OF Love and Friendship.  

ACT. 1.  

SCEN. 1.  Lysander. 

INstruct me some kind Power,  
To which I may most Lawfully prove false;  
My friend, or Mistress.  
But what talk I of Law? as if that faith  
Could ere be broke with Justice!  
Rather, which  
Can my heart suffer to be torn away,  
And snatched from its own sinews?  
Which of them can my soul part with upon easiest terms?  
For thus stands my ambiguous fate, that one  
Side of my heart must needs be ripped from tother,  
For so these two had filled it; one side each:  
My share was almost nothing; only that  
Which knit the other two, I called my own.   

Friendship, thou art a name, and nothing real,  
A mere and empty word, and  
Here I quit thee,  
I'll not be fettered in fantastic chains,  
To court Ideas, nothings, and adore  
A strange Platonic Cupid. Give me Love,  
That has some Life and vigour in it: Love  
That shall delight our bloods as well as Fancies.—  
But stay: Is this Lysander? No, some fiend,  
Some false malicious spirit crept within me,  
To poison all my Faith. Methinks  
I am too earthy; and  
I feel my clogged thoughts grovelling  
To baseness. O my Theocles!  
Pardon me friend; when I forget that name,  
May I be-miserable; nay I need not wish it, for  
'Tis employed in that, and I may well  
Now save my curse.   To him a Servant Ser. 

Sir, here's a Messenger  
With commendations from Artemone.   Lys. 

That Name again confounds me,  
Startles all my Loyal thoughts,  
And shakes my yielding virtue  
To a weak coldness. Can I part with thee  
My Artemone? No; thee Theocles?  
O my distracted heart! methinks I feel  
The Nerves by several Engines, racked two ways,  
And almost torn to——   Ser. 

— Pray Sir,  
What answer shall I return?   Lys. 

I had forgot thy business: say I come,— Ex. Ser.  
Yet sure there might be found a middle path,  
Wherein I might observe an equal pace,  
Of faith to both. I'll think on't———   Ex. Lysan.  

SCEN. II.  Artemone, Hyperia. Art. 

O Wench, ne'er trust 'em, they're th'unconstant'st  
Things in all the world,  
They still exclaim on us; tell us  
We are more wavering than our feathers,  
And that we change more often than the Moon,  
With such like sickly Fancies. But if  
'Twere so, in them the cause is;  
Had but men a care, still to observe,  
And please us as at first, we  
Still should be the same; our fancies never change;  
But the object altars, and then we  
Out of our Constancy, are forced to choose  
Another, which may please as that did first.   Hyp. 

But Madam,  
I do hope you find no reason to apply  
Aught of this to your Lysander.   Art. 

No? what think you then  
Of his long absence?   Hyp. 

What some two days? I promise you  
I know some Lovers, and those of the best file too,  
That do presume more on their Mistress favours:  
As there's your stalking Signior, he that comes  
Hither a wooing still in state, that tells  
Long stories of his Pedigrees, and Honours,  
In stead of Amorous Passions.   Art. 
Who, Philonax?  Hyp. 

Yes, he that scorns to woo the common way,  
But keeps his distance still, and courts by the Rule:  
So much a day: observes a kind of diet  
In all his wooing: Sooth were't to me, I'd make  
His stately hams to cringe before I had him,  
And afterward let me alone.   Art. 

I prithee tell, how has Lysander bribed thee  
That thou shouldst thus exclaim on Philonax?   Hyp. 

True Madam,  
drop reg've been bribed; but by his virtues,  
His fair Respects to you▪ and noble Carriage.   Art. 
Ha, ha, ha.—  Hyp. 

Indeed I do confess, it is not usual  
Amongst us Chamber-Creatures to be bribed  
With such uncoined metal.   Art. 

I believe thee;  
But prithee tell me true, does he not use  
To charm thy Tongue by some more powerful motive,  
And chain it to himself in golden Links?  
Come, come, I know he still does use thee kindly,  
Cause Thou belong'st to me.   Hyp. 

Madam, I hope  
You are not Jealous of me, yet I'll tell you  
All that I know, though not as to Create  
A good Opinion in you, but confirm  
That which you do conceive already of Him.  
He's truly Generous, but far from Bribing:  
For sure, I think, he cannot be so unjust  
To his own Merits, as distrust 'em so  
To think they want a mercenary Advocate.   Art. 
Nay, but, I prithee, haste to his Opinion Concerning me.  Hyp. 

He thinks, as all do else,  
You are Perfections storehouse, and does love  
One only in the world as well as you.   Art. 

O Hyperia!  
And canst Thou call him faithful which does pledge  
His faith to more than one? That, That is it  
Which I have▪ still suspected, and it cuts  
My very heart strings.   Hyp. 

But Madam here he comes,  
I hope will Cure 'em strait.    

SCEN. 3.  To them Lysander. Lys. 

MAdam you might have spared your messenger,  
My own distressed thoughts did prompt me to you,  
As to my Tutelar goddess.   Art. 

So perhaps  
You use to Court your other Mistress too.   Lys. 

How Lady? what strange Language do I hear!  
you've struck a damp into my soul, which but  
So soon exhaled by those quick beauteous rays,  
Had stifled all my Spirits. Let that tongue  
Be blasted, that hath so infected yours.   Art. 

The witness is not far from hence, My woman,  
Who can confirm from your own mouth so much.   Lys. 

My own mouth be accursed then▪ speak Thou monster,  
Confess the truth, for that is it must clear me.   Hyp. 

That is, I know the Party, whom you love  
As dear as this my Mistress, and can prove it,  
Out of your own confession.   Lys. 

O the Malice  
Of faith-betraying Chambermaids! Nay sure  
I cannot dare t' outlive that cursed minute  
Which gives my faith suspected to my Mistress;— Draws  
Lady, unlock my Breast, and you shall find  
A heart as undefiled, as is your beauty,  
Or if you will not, I can do't myself.   Hyp. 
Hold Sir▪ 'tis Theocles, her Brother.  Lys. 

See I pray the grounds  
Of your strong jealousy. Thy Pardon Virgin:  
Yet thou didst ill in holding us so long  
In such a strange suspense.   Art. 

Beshrew Thee wench  
For putting me to such a fright: yet still,— aside  
Pray heaven it be none other: I suspect  
The sword unsheathed made her conceal the Truth.   Lys. 

But Madam I shall shake your faith I fear,  
In craving but one favour at your hands.   Art. 

What ere it be I'll think th' occasion happy  
That may the more oblige you to me, speak it.   Lys. 

With much reluctancy and fear t' offend you,  
I'm forced to ask it, and desire you would  
Encompass round your heart with a strong faith  
That I can never really forsake you.  
'Tis that I may go court Another Mistress.   Art. 

Is this my Brother? Come you need not hide it,  
What should you fear my anger, or Offence?  
The thing you ask doth free you from all Love,  
And consequently fear of me: why should you  
Care how I take it, having thus forsaken me?   Lys. 

O you are much mistaken Madam; Love,  
Excessive love of you, doth force me to it;  
Your Bother( in whose bliss I know lies yours)  
Is deep in love with fair Ethusa, who  
Stoutly rejects all Entertainment of  
His true affection, till her Sister shall  
( To whose disposal she hath given herself)  
Freely consent, and wish her to it: now  
She, more than I desire, affecting me;  
Denies all help to Theocles, unless  
He also use the self same power on me,  
And by that power with me conform me to her;  
Could you but now dispense with me a while,  
( Without your leave I dare not) I could soon  
Effect what he desires, and then return  
With as much joy to you, as he that having  
Forsaken for a while his native country,  
Friends, and his safety too; being come home  
Kisses the soil he left, and counts himself  
For all his many dangers and more fears  
Happy at least in this, that now he knows  
To set a higher rate on the kind favour  
Which Heaven at first bestowed.   Art. 

Nay Sir you may  
Without all forced pretences do your pleasure,  
I am not, I thank Heaven, so fond to sue,  
Or broke for Servants.   Lys. 

Think not, fairest Mistress,  
That I can ever truly Love but you,  
I can in any shape adore your virtues,  
And still reserving in my Constant heart  
Your fair Idea,▪ Court another Beauty  
With Amorous devotion; but such  
As still must rest and point itself in you.   Art. 

Sir, that Devotion which adores the Image  
May chance persuade itself, that through that Image  
It worships the true Deity: but yet  
Must Excuse others that do still suspect it  
As very like idolatry, if not It.   Lys. 

Madam that strength of Light, that does encircle  
The powers above, Admits no mortal gaze:  
Yet by reflection perhaps we may  
Gather a glance, or so: As through a glass  
We can outface the Sun, and by those weak  
Nerves of our Sense collect those scattered beams,  
As they do guild some Wall or Turret, which  
By an immediate view beheld, would dart  
Flames in our Eyes to punish our Presumption.  
So that sometime a Reverence may as well  
Keep us from that we love, as Love invite us.   Art. 

But Sir, take heed lest your Idolatrous love,  
Pass not so truly through the fictitious object,  
As still remain there: sure the jealous gods  
Accept immediate worship, rather than  
What's done through th' Image, and comes not to them  
But by a proxy: howsoever the cause  
Which you pretend, with your large promises,  
May keep me still the same unto your love,  
So that your frequent visits strengthen me  
In my much shaken faith.   Lys. 

Madam, I leave  
My heart with you in pawn, that you may know,  
What speech soe'er I use to any other,  
That still remains your own.————   Ex. Lysan. Art. 

Hyperia,  
I did not think th' hadst loved me, or the truth  
So faintly, as for any threatening, to  
Conceal aught, prejudicial unto either.  
Come, come, I know, for all the cunning carriage,  
there's more in't then so; your first expressions  
Could not well suit with any friend, but Mistress,  
Till fear applied 'em: but it may be now,  
That being over, thou'lt reveal the truth.  
I do conjure thee here, by all my favours,  
( Which I shall much repent, if thou confess not)  
Tell me sincerely, what at first you meant.   Hyp. 

Madam, if all the carriage of my life  
Have gained you this faith of me,  
That I can speak any truth at all: believe me now;  
If I or know, or think, but that Lysander  
Among all women living, loves you only,  
May I ne'er find your mercy, no nor heavens.   Art. 

I cannot yet be confident, I much want  
Some forcive Argument to re-establish  
My doubtful thoughts.   To them Diarchus. Hyp. 

And here comes one, I'm sure  
Will bring you none, your uncle Madam; this  
Is he quite poisons all; Lysander's enemy:  
Yet hath no reason for't, but that he is  
His father's son.   Diar. 

I met Lysander here,  
Now coming from you; niece, I wonder much  
You will give entertainment to a man  
You know descended from the ancient enemy  
To all our family.   Art. 

Pardon me uncle,  
If that I be not yet of that opinion;  
To think that hate must be successive, or  
Malice hereditary.   Diar. 

Yet believe me,  
Though't runs not in a blood, I see no reason  
Why the son ought not take the father's part.  
Come niece, be wise; there's the Noble Count  
That loves you well I'm sure: In him you may  
Bring honour to yourself, and you well know  
He has your father's free consent.   Art. 

But Sir,  
I hope I have a suffrage in this business,  
My voice too would be asked.   Diar. 

See, here they come  
For the same purpose too, I think.    

SCEN. 4.  To them Melesippus. Philonax. Attendants. MEl. 

Daughter,  
Though in this matter here of weight I would not  
Force you to any thing; yet I could wish  
Your liking would concur with mine. I here  
Present unto you him, who, in my esteem,  
Deserves your love best, and I hope will find it.   Diar. 

For all that Sir, I think it very fit,  
That children should be ruled.   Mel. 

Nay I esteem it  
No Marriage; but a well named Rape, where friends  
Force Love upon their Children; where the Virgin  
Is not so truly given, as betrayed.  
I would not have Betrothed people( for  
I can by no means call 'em Lovers) do  
Such penance in their marriage sheets, and make  
The Rites no Wedlock, but a Sacrifice.  
Where like an Innocent Lamb, the passive virgin's  
Heart is Torn from her entrails, not enticed:  
Being condemned, not wedded to her Husband:  
Wherefore I will not practise what I may,  
But hope nerth'lesse to find my will performed.   Art. 

Sir, the continual carriage of my Life  
Hath been one Act of duty and Obedience;  
And that in this I may not stain the rest,  
But steer my Thoughts by yours; I do desire  
Some time of respite.   Mel. 

Take't, but have a care,  
Your hoodwinked venturous Passion oversway not  
Your Reason: Think whom here I have commended.   Art. 
I shall, Sir.  Mel. 

Now to you, thus having made  
Your way, I wish success.   Diar. 

And Sir, I think  
After your Merits have displayed themselves,  
It may be our Presumption, not our Prayer.—   Exe. Mele. Diar. Phi. 

My thanks to both. Madam I make no question  
But that you easily believe these friends,  
And partly from your own experience know  
How well I have deserved you; otherwise  
I should relate myself, how much you are  
Obliged for this observance which I show you,  
By condescending thus to court a Lady  
That sued not first to me.   Art. 

Sir, though I think  
Most might be proud of such a favour from you,  
And prize it high.——   Phi. 

Nay faith, I must confess  
My threshold groans under the daily Clients,  
And little Legs that come from Ladies to me:  
And I receive so many Tickets from 'em,  
That I am fain to hang 'em upon wires,  
As▪ Pothecaries do their physic Bills,  
And serve 'em out as the bragging Captain did  
His Challenges, so many to a day,  
Each in his turn: drop reg've disappointed three now.   Art. 

— Yet, as I was about to tell you Sir,  
I am not of that fancy as to sue  
To any man, that does not first appear  
A Client unto me.   Phi. 

It seems so Lady:  
And yet I am not of that general Tenet  
That does admit no female wooers, surely  
Your sex is not denied that liberty of soul  
To like what ere you apprehend as good.  
Who does forbid the enamoured wedge of Iron  
To steal unto the Loadstone, and to knit  
Itself unto it in an amorous kiss,  
Not but by violence to be disjoined? who e'er  
Censured the uxorious ivy, that it Courts  
The stout tall Oak, and twines itself about  
Like to some passionate Lover? as if willing  
To shroud the exposed bulk from threatening dangers,  
And tell the hostile wind, or envious hand,  
That heaves an Axe against it, you must pass  
Through me to injure this, hoping to see  
Fury at last appeased by the soft object;  
Yet howe'er, till death, does not forsake him,  
But falls in an Embrace, as if desiring  
To be entombed together, and made one Pile.   Art. 

Sure were those dregs of Pride drained from his soul— aside.  
He would appear of most refined thoughts.  
But Sir, what Nature may excuse in them,  
Reason corrects in us.   Phi. 

Nay but the rather,  
Knowing your souls endued with such a treasure  
That can direct and guide your Passions, should you  
Pursue the Object when by it approved.   Art. 

True Sir, if Reason did commend it to us,  
Likely we should consent.   Phi. 

Believe't in this  
Your Reason and your Will are much the same,  
You can desire nothing but what that does  
( First having weighed and pondered well each scruple,  
That may object itself) commend as good;  
For whatsoever bounds our affection,  
Must first appear unto our judgement lovely,  
It standing Sentinel, questioning all  
That pass unto the Closet of the will.   Art. 

Nay I shall easily grant that we can love,  
And love with reason too, but still am heretic  
To your Position, that we ought to court  
The object so beloved.   Phi. 

See Madam now,  
Your thoughts are not denied to be as willing  
And ready too, as ours, but the expression  
You think unfit, and so will needs set up  
A kind of Just hypocrisy, nay virtuous,  
Whilst that which you style modesty, is only  
A more allowable and fair dissembling.  
For so 'tis in effect: you must appear  
Unwilling when desiring nothing more:  
You must seem backward, and be much entreated,  
Nay sometimes scarce entreated unto that  
Which should you miss of, you would curse your virtues,  
And count your modesty injurious: But  
Madam, what only I discourse to you,  
I practise among other Ladies: here  
You see I break my use, and therefore will not  
Ask what adventure I shall undertake  
To gain your love; I think you will conceive  
That the first act of wooing was a merit:  
And that I moved my suit, deserved it.   Art. 

Nay,  
'Tis not enough to manifest a Love  
In bare appearances; Each man perhaps  
When e'er his Blood runs high, can court a Mistress  
With eager zeal and fervour; but 'tis he  
Alone, whose Soul prompts him to purer Love,  
Deserves reciprocal Affection.   Phi. 

As for my soul you may know that hereafter;  
And for my Blood, you know, drop reg've told you often  
'Tis o'th' noblest strain, derived from such  
Who were the glory of the Roman State:  
And all I'm sure that ever heard me speak,  
Know by Report it is not stained in me.  
I have maintained still the Credit of  
Our family, and as I can remember  
Never descended yet so low as now,  
Which I trust you'll consider.   Art. 

Sir I know  
You would esteem it but a lightness in me  
To give away my heart almost at th' first  
Demand, and having had so small experience.  
I have some thoughts that disaffect me now,  
And hinder all Deliberation  
Of Love: hereafter you may hear more from me.   Phi. 
Madam I wait upon you.——  Exe. Philo. art. Hyp. 

Pray heaven that all these storms thus coming on,  
Like wave and waves one on another's back,  
Shake not her promised faith unto Lysander,  
And ruin't quite: The Gods I think take part  
Thus to disjoint their loves. Her jealousy  
First backed with those appearing Reasons may  
Be strengthened by these Motives, ne'er decay.    
The end of the first Act.   

ACT. 2.  

SCEN. 1.  Miserotos laughing. 
HA, ha, ha, I have e'en burst myself yonder with laughing▪ and am now forced to retire for fear of my ribs; The most prodigious Contention about a Mistress that e'er I beheld: A Ballad-singer and a vexed Constable I should take 'em for; but that I know the one to be a boisterously valiant Captain, and tother a Gentleman abused into a Poet by his Mistress: who, having for a long time courted her with verses only and Sonnets, is now enjoined by Her to speak nothing but rhyme. The Captain being his Rival hath now provoked the Quarrel, he hath drawn his falchion, and wheeling about, lies at his Guard most fiercely, whiles my rhyming Gentleman makes at him with a pair of heroic Verses, which he again puts by with a warlike Oath or two: Such strange Passadoes there are between 'em, such Hermaphroditical Play; short sword and long verse, as I ne'er saw the like. But here they come.  To him Pisistratus. Lamprias. Pis. 
I say I'll fight what e'er comes on't.  Lam. 

Why then have at you Sir; nay I'll assure ye,  
There is no Poet but he hath his fury.   Mis. 
Nay good Captain be pacified; indeed it is not manly to challenge or beat another whom you know resolved not to fight again: why you see he refuses your weapon: Alas he combats in another way; if you will make Amorous Sonnets with him, I know he will enter the Lists.  Pis. 
No! my Sword shall be my Pen, and I will print a bloody tragic Poem upon his flesh————— By this good steel I will.  Lam. 

By these good Verses thou shalt have thy fill.  
Nay, though with sword I fight not, yet will I  
Hang thee in strong lines; make thee living die.   Pis. 
Strong lines? strong halters: I'll beat this rhyming spirit out of you, and make you howl in pitiful prose. If ever I hear you pelting verses at my Mistress window any more, I'll beat that inspired Pate: I will Sirrah, so that the discharged Chamber-pot shall be a work of charity, the urine being medicinal.  Lam. 

I do defy thee and thy threats, thou fellow,  
That lookest so like a foaming angry Billow;  
Crowned with my twig of laurel I fear not  
Thunder of rotten Eggs or Chamberpot.   Pis. 
Get you a Sword Changeling, and a good one too, or I'll crown your coxcomb with a holly twig as big as my arm, I'll make your brains so fluent, they shall be ready to fly out upon all occasions.  Lam. 

My body shall with poetry be charmed,  
Thus to be naked is to be best armed.   Pis. 
I'll e'en try what Armour of proof you have.  offers to beat him. Mis. 
Hold, hold, shall I now tell you what you two are?  Pis. 
Yes, Mars, and Apollo.  Mis. 
A ridiculous pair of coxcombs you are to quarrel, and violate all bonds of friendship: thus for a white face, a coy, disdainful woman, who for aught you know when you have done your best, will only laugh at your folly: I would not have you expect to be so Generously miserable as to deserve pity.  Pis. 
Come, come, you only speak this out of your own averseness to all Love: she hath most affectionately engaged herself by several promises to one of us two; but finding us both, so equally deserving, cannot as yet finally determine the party.  Lam. 
Nay that's for certain none can husband be▪ To fair Ethusa, unless I or he.  Pis. 
Here's nothing to be done with my Sword, and I scorn to kill him as he is, unarmed. Prithee Miserotos we should be much bound to the discovery of thy Justice, if thou couldst chalk us out a fair way of Decision.  Mis. 
Faith I can imagine none, you are so disproportionably qualified; unless putting it to the hazard of Lots. For you standing on terms of chivalry, He of poetry; you for the point of your Sword, he of his pen, can never meet in fair Duel.  Pis. 
Why then I'll stand to Lots.  Lam. 

And shall I too? No; for I much do fear  
To venture such fair hopes as now appear.   Pis. 
Nay then let her decide it; I know her judgement must prefer me, therefore I'll stand to no other lottery but her liking.  Lam. 
'Tis then agreed.———  Exe. Lamp. Pis. Mis. 
Did ever men run thus out of their wits with love? nay and for one that gives 'em no Encouragement at all, the most contemptful abusive woman that ere was sued to. She appoints 'em their days of visits, and then sits in state like some great Princess about to decide grave matters concerning the commonwealth: They usually walk without i'th' Hall, and converse with the Serving-men, till summoned by her Gentlewoman, who being the clerk of the Court, presents their Petitions, their Amorous Papers of Verses, and takes their several Enditements 'gainst the next appearing.  
Well, give me liberty of soul, who's will take beauty.  Ex. Mis.  

SCEN. 2.  Panareta. Ethusa, at one door. Lysander, at the other. Lys. 

SAve you fairest Ladies: I wish health  
And your own wishes upon both.   Pan. 

But sure  
He does not know how much h'has given away  
In that one word. If I had my own wish,  
He should bestow himself.   Eth. 

If that be all,  
We thank you Sir.   Lys. 

But Lady I have business  
Beyond a bare salute, and 'tis of Theocles,  
His Service to you Lady.   Eth. 
Well! proceed;  Lys. 

he's one, if faith can bear the stamp of Merit,  
Deserves your love; he spends the day in tears,  
And by his sighs, with which he counts his hours,  
He makes void Minutes. Thus he pines away,  
And in a Sullen grief hath lost himself  
Only for love of you.   Pan. 

How well that tongue  
Hath learned to woo! He need not fear repulse,  
If he could spend a suit in his own Name,  
Smoothed with such language to my tender ears.   Eth. 

Alas I pity the poor Gentleman;  
Bid him rise early, use good company,  
And know no other moisture but of wine,  
'Twill cure his melancholy.   Lys. 

If you return  
But this slight Answer, know you then will draw  
A new disease upon him, and your Cure  
Will only thus grow to a deeper wound,  
Whilst he shall die with physic.   Pan. 

Still he moves  
Like one that knew the Conquering Art to plead  
For any but himself,   Eth. 

Indeed you urge  
His suit so full, as if he had bequeathed  
His soul into your bosom; But I pray you  
Discourse it coolly; should I give myself  
To every one that this way would deserve me  
I should be married to a Troop of Men,  
And grow a Lawful Strumpet; For my Face  
Is not of that poor Clay, as to be courted  
With one Flame only, there are more desires  
Chained to my eyes then his.   Lys. 

There may be so,  
And that Face doth deserve it▪   Pan. 

Pray heaven himself  
Do not increase the Number.   Lys. 

But in all  
That heap of Suitors, there are few can boast  
A Flame so vigorous, as Theocles';  
All do not testify their rude Affections  
With that best compliment of Gaudie Presents,  
Nor woo i'th' costly language of rich gifts:  
This is the stile of Theocles firm love  
Printed in Gold.   Eth. 

I grant indeed he sent▪  
Full choice of Presents, and the finest toys  
As I could wish: But I returned my thanks,  
And paid him still in a civility:  
If he expect more, I recall that too:  
Else, call it what he will, he sends but wares,  
And cheats my Cabinet with Merchandise,  
Which I forsooth must think filled with his love,  
And in Reward, bestow myself: alas  
I have no price set on me, nor am sold  
At the cheap rate of Jewels: I'll not pass  
Myself away by bargain.   Lys. 

Lady he scorns  
To chaffer for affection: He desires  
That you should recompense his Faith with yours,  
And not his gifts: when e'er he sends a Jewel  
Carved out into a heart, 'tis his own heart  
Wounded and cut by your Disdain; each present  
Carries a part of him that sent it too.  
His Love is weaved through all his gifts: Did he  
Know that base Art how to send any thing  
And leave himself out, you might easily then  
Slight the poor single offer. Nor is he armed  
Only with gifts, he dare even challenge dangers  
And provoke death, if he might thus avoid  
The fate which he more fears of your Displeasure.  
He dares fight for you and maintain your beauty,  
Whilst he shall lose his own, and paint your face  
Fresh with his blood.   Eth. 

Ay, here's a way indeed,  
A fine device thus to defend my beauty  
That he might ruin it. That Lady's name  
Whose worth must be decided by the Sword,  
Suffers though in a Conquest; 'tis a stain  
To honour, whilst it wants another force  
Then its own Innocence to guard it.   Lys. 

Lady,  
You're too severe thus to despise all ways  
That render Suitors lovely: if you doubt  
His constancy, invent yourself a Trial;  
Impose some harder task, whose cruel weight  
Might shake a faith which was as firm as Rock,  
Though more relenting. If gifts fraught with love  
Cannot prevail, nor th' judgement of a Duel,  
Then find out something heavier than war,  
Enjoin his absence, and impose some years  
Of tedious Pilgrimage, which only thus  
Shall grow a Sport and Recreation,  
'Cause your Command.   Eth. 

Sister you're too heavy,  
Come, be more cheerful.   Lys. 

This is a Contempt  
Worse than the rest, will she not give an Answer?— aside.  
O the proud Insolence of a coy Lady!  
But if that be the way, I can follow,  
And shape myself to any thing to produce  
A Comfort for my friend: Panareta  
Let me entreat your help.   Pan. 

O do not wrong  
The power you have in me to entreat any thing,  
Be't a command, and 'tis already done.  
Lys. What sweetness dwells in all her Answers? now aside.  
I could forget my friend, and almost urge  
A suit might bless myself; But I must through't:  
My request is, that you would win your Sister  
To glance some favours upon Theocles.  
She is all stone yet, but that she will not  
Be won upon by tears; No softness can  
Supple her harder bosom.   Eth. 
A good Character.  Pan. 

Ah Lysander! I did hope you would  
Have urged a glad Suit of Another strain  
When I did yield so far: I did believe  
( How Credulous Love is) 'twas me you aimed at.   Lys. 

Did I forsake one shelve to split my hopes  
Upon a New? I must still try Ethusa,  
Since you are cruel too.   Pan. 

How should I plead?  
Tell me what words will soonest win her love,  
For sure you know the way to conquer hearts.   Eth. 

How gravely they consult together! only,  
After more policy to be denied still.——   aside. Lys. 

Tell her how great his Love is: let her know  
She sits within his heart next to the Gods.   Pan. 

Sure that cannot win her, for even thus I love  
You with a faith as great, as he does her.  
You sit within my heart next to the Gods,  
Pardon the Blasphemy, and are even placed  
Above 'em too, and yet I am neglected.   Eth. 

I am glad I am released, since I can now  
Gather more Breath, strong for a new repulse.   aside. Lys. 
If you love me, then show it in this grant.   

SCEN. 3.  To them, Theocles. Pan. 

SEe he is come himself: let him now move  
His own desires; for sure 'tis an Advantage  
To any one, but me, to woo in Person.   The. 

Friend and Lady, pardon my hasty rudeness,  
Which scarce permits this short salute:  
I see a Beauty that can draw my Soul  
Out through my Eyes, by whose exhaling virtue  
I am dead everywhere, but in those parts  
Which survive only that they may view her.   Eth. 

Now I must even become a prodigy  
To please his fancy; his strange Expressions  
Seem not so much to court as fright a Lady.  
And I applaud the strength of my conceit,  
That I'm not startled yet: pray Sir tell me  
What show d'ye please to make Me? Am I turned  
Into some Blazing Comet? Sure my hairs  
Do all lie right, and they are still themselves,  
They do not hiss nor spit out fire.   The. 

Lady,  
You have the beauty and the majesty  
Of any Star, you shine as bright as they,  
But not so monstrous▪ and yet pray heaven that you  
Do not portend a Death too. But since  
You will not conceive the meaning of a Distance,  
I will grow nearer to you, and address  
My suit in th'approach of a plain language,  
My business then is humbly to implore  
The Influence of your love.   Eth. 

Then you have performed  
Your business, you've implored it: Fare you well Sir.   Lys. 

Nay Lady ben't thus cruel to undo  
A man whose only fault is too much Love:  
His wish is not to beg, but to obtain.   Pan. 

And yet the whole reward of my Desire  
Is but to beg, though I could wish t'obtain▪   Eth. 

I must confess he still hath shown himself  
A careful wary Suitor. drop reg've received  
Presents enough to tire my hand i'th' taking,  
To which I only can return my thanks.  
But he must pardon me if I withhold  
My Love: H'hath been a frequent Visitant,  
And oft hath sent his Page to know how well  
I took my Rest; nay, even how I dreamt:  
H'hath been as Scrupulous as a physician,  
And knows my sleeps as perfect as my woman:  
And yet for all this Care I can bestow  
Only the charity of thanks, and wish  
That he'd new place his love upon some Subject  
That knew more how to yield.   Lys. 

See, Sh'hath given  
An answer sucked out of my breast; I grant  
Y'ave shown Affection great as are your merits,  
For which I can but thank you, and entreat  
That you would place your love upon some other,  
Soft as your own Desires.   The. 

Your Answer, Lady,  
Hath only killed with Pity, all the relief  
Which I can draw from so misplaced a kindness,  
Is but to die.   Eth. 

Then I perhaps may shed  
One tear upon your Funeral, and wish  
That you had been more wise.   Pan. 

I was transported  
With your unwelcome Answer, that I knew not  
How to reply, had not the charity  
Of your friend helped, and taught me to confess  
That all your pity only bids me die.   The. 

Recall your harsher sentence; Let me live  
Only i'th' Comfort of one Smile.   Lys. 

Do not thus  
Betray a man to sadness, who can joy  
Only i'th' Services he does— for you.   Pan. 

You plead well, if yourself did not betray  
A maid to sadness and the wild Company  
Of her own tears, for want of the relief  
Which you might pour out in one Smile.   Lys. 

Alas,  
I should but counterfeit.   The. 

'Twould appear  
Some comfort yet if you would fain a Mirth.   Lys. 

Remit some of your hardness, and infuse  
A soul into him quicker than his own.   Eth. 

I cannot blame the weight of his desires,  
But wonder Sir at yours: I cannot see  
With what hope you might urge his Suit, whilst thus  
A Lady droops and pines for love of you,  
One that deserves a Nobler Mate, if thus  
She had not first betrayed her own desires:  
Expect no other usage to your Theocles  
( For I'll not call him mine) than what you cast  
Upon Panareta.   Lys. 

If't be only this  
That keeps your love in, and drives back your smiles,  
My friend may yet discern some show of hope,  
And I'm content that you should pattern out  
Your entertainment unto Theocles  
From mine to your Panareta;( for as yet  
I can't o'th' sudden call her mine.)   Eth. 
I am content too, what thinks this sadder pair?  The. 
I bow to any thing you please to name.  Pan. 
And I to what Lysander doth agree.  Eth. 

Be't then concluded; you are firm Lysander?  
You'll not fly off?   Lys. 
I vow my faith t'observe it.  The. 

I see this comfort yet, that if I die,  
' 'tmust be a friend that kills me.   Pan. 

And I am glad  
My life's enclosed within a sister's Breath.   Eth. 

Enough, 'tis all agreed, hereafter we  
Shall either know your Faith or perjury,— Exe. Lys. The.  
Nay Sister we expect some other Courtship, drop reg've appointed  
My two other servants this day of Visit.   Pan. 
Is it a day of hearing then?  Eth. 
Yes; in troth this serious Courtship of Theocles had almost wrought a distemper upon me( for such I count all sadness) I hold him somewhat too worthy to be listed with that ridiculous company, else I had thought upon some humour for him too: But I'll lay no other punishment upon him besides a constant absence, till he hear my pleasure.  Pan. 
O Sister, as thou regardest my Comfort, prithee let nothing pass from thee that may be at all distasteful to him.  Eth. 
Well Sister, for your sake I'll study a Carriage.  To them Eudora. Eud. 
O Madam, yonder's your Brace of humours, as you call 'em, in the midst of the street quarrelling, but hither I imagine their course is bent.  Eth. 
When they come bring 'em in hither. Sister pray take your place, and learn by me how to entertain Suitors. It is not fit that these Men should call us Mistresses, and so confidently proffer their Services for nothing. I would not have 'em so hypocritical.   

SCEN. 4.  To them, Pisis. Lamp. Quarrelling at the door. Pis. 
SLave, Rascal, I'll beat thy Brains out with the hilt of my Sword.  Lam. 

Sir I suppose it is my Mistress pleasure,  
That I should first appear, you stay her Leisure.   Eth. 
How now? what saucy companions raise this tumult so nigh me? what you two? I did not think you had stood in so little awe.  Lam. 

Most fairest Lady, indeed and forsooth  
He rudely hath almost beat out my tooth.   Pis. 
And Lady I suppose he did deserve it, in offering to compare himself with me; nay, and what's more, he did prefer his Poetry before my valour.  Eth. 
You're both rude fellows, get you to the door again, let me see whether you can come in more civilly. Go I say.  They walk to the Door, then return hand in hand: 
Why this is well, now let me hear what you can say for yourselves.  Lam. 

Fairest of Ladies, hither I am come,  
Out of my store of wit to show you some:  
And if you please on this my Present Smile, Presents a Paper.  
Myself the happiest of Men I'll style.   Eth. 
What have we here, a Paper of Verses? Read 'em.  Lam. reads 
Madam, th'Vnwritten Paper I had brought  
Fair as 'twas i'th' native hew,  
Because it was a thing unfit I thought,  
To give aught Blotted unlike you.  
My weeping Pen with grief began to swell,  
Sad that It should nothing send;  
Whose Tears by chance to these few verses fell,  
Doubtful lest they might offend.  
Thus every thing fair Lady I enjoy,  
Doth court your Presence, mourns to find you coy.  Eth. 
And now, in-faith what Poet has hired you to put off his verses? you bring nothing of your own besides the Tune, you'd make an incomparable fellow, if you had but a Raw arm, and a Partner, the structure of whose Body were built upon a wooden leg, to bellow it out by turns in a most pitiful unsanctified Note. Come, I know 'tis some Penny-Rimer or other hath sold you a stock to set up with, to save the delays of Printing: Take you out of this common way, and I know you have no more rhyme in you then a dying Swan, though less melody.  Lam. 

No, Madam? if for verses you thirst ever,  
My Pen shall run, I say, as doth a River.   Pis. 
Pox of all his Canting; This foolish thing called verse is a language as bad as barbarism to me: I can as soon turn honest as rhymer.— Divinest Lady; I fear me you'll grow sick of this bad Poet; give me but leave to silence him, I'll talk him dead. Speak nothing but Swords and bullets: Or dart a fire from my Basilisks Eyes shall sing and stifle all his Poetry: I will do this or any thing, be it beyond the reach of Man or Thought, to do you service.  Eth. 
Has your sauciness done yet? or do you want breath to conjure any further? Sure you forgot your Circle, else we should have seen some darksome fiend raised by your charms, or heard a rattling Tempest louder than the tongue that made it: know Sir, a Silence would better become those Swelling lips, till you had known my pleasure. What if I like his Poetry and prefer it 'bove all the Thunders of your puffed up valour? 'Tis no new thing to woo in rhyme.  Pis. 
Lady, since 'tis your will, I'll be as silent as the Grave, which strait should Swallow up that Bombast Poet, but that you please to ransom him: My lips shall be sealed up as close as Cockles, and never divide Themselves till you uncharm 'em.  Eth. 
Now as sure as the Death he talked of, he speaks all by th' line, his Tongue runs like some mad chained dog, thus far, and is then checked for want of room and breath. 'Twere better you had obeyed without the tediousness of a reply, and not have been thus stubborn out of Duty. Well proceed Lamprias.  He bows Lam. 

I bless the Tongue that gives me leave, and shall  
Thank you hereafter that he's not my rival.   Eth. 
And yet 'twere not amiss to thank in present, if your rhyme would bear it. But pray Sir, whence grows this peremptory noise of yours? who hath informed you that Pisistratus is not the first in my Thoughts?  Lam. 

Lady yourself hath taught me this, for why  
You'd not bid him be silent, unless I  
Should be the Man, and since you deign this favour,  
I shall still be your Creature, still and ever.   Eth. 
'Tis true indeed, I bade him be silent, and see, he dares not so much as whisper; but 'twas only that I might have leisure to deny you. Do you not see how he is obedient? he dares not venture so near a disloyalty as but to breathe at's mouth; he sucks in all the air at his Nostrils only, and instead of speaking does but merely shrug, and faintly nod his head, as if he feared this were a Disobedience too: faith try him, and see how stubbornly he'll hold his peace.  Lam. 

Pisistratus! why Pisistratus, what hath thy tongue  
Forgot his Thunder? Is thy speech all gone?   Eth. 
You see he dares not trespass, and I would you durst not too.— But did I command you to breathe nothing but what was clad in verse, and yet forsooth you dare utter your mind in Prose.  Lam. 

Lady 'twas verse I said, I say 'twas verse,  
And if you please I will the same rehearse.   Eth. 
A very fine, smooth verse indeed, where the music ends in Tongue and Gone: 'twas well chimed you think: but no matter, I shall find time to punish these Enormities hereafter; mean while I'll tempt your Obedience a little further, and command your Silence, yet 'tis one favour I have done you, that you practise by Pisistratus, and hold your peace by Rule.  Lam. 
My Thanks and I could wish———  Eth. 
Stop there, and know, when I command a Silence, you must not promise but perform it: for once I'll pardon you your rhyme, and give you leave to break off i'th' middle. Now Pisistratus I untie your tongue, and expect what you have to say.  Pis. 
First let me humbly thank you, that I am still a soldier, and may talk.  Eth. 
You say right indeed, for most of you are skilled at no other weapon.  Pis. 
But if you'll give me leave to express my Thoughts, I'm none of those weak counterfeit warriors; no shadow but a soldier; my Part is not to say, but do: I disclaim these Trifles of Service, this talking way of Courtship: Give me a danger such as would strike astonishment in the bold Alcides: Plant me instead of Ordnance against the Walls of a besieged City, or let me enter on a Grove of Pikes, which I will mow down like a crop in harvest.  Eth. 
Bless us! what a volley of words is here; you do not Speak methinks, but Discharge, and make every sentence, a peal.  Pis. 
Madam, I bring no puling Elegies, no Poetry I, Bellona is my Muse, and this bright Sword the only offering I can present: but such as when you please shall sacrifice whole hecatombs of your Enemies;( if yet among Mortals there be any so profane as to injure so Divine a Beauty.)  Eth. 
You promise Liberally; but I fear when it should come to th' Test, your Sword will not be so nimble as the Tongue that brags on't; it shall be fastened so close in the Scabbard that you cannot draw it out, or some such pretty toy to delude a danger: Then instead of fighting you shall swear valiantly against the Cutler, and give no Death but in your Curses.  Pis. 
Lady, your comment wrongs my worth, by your fair honour, and by those many Victories, which yet sit warm and fresh upon my cumbered Sword, were he a man, and such whom often Conquests had made great as myself, and to what height my virtues have arrived, to be thought immortal; if such a man should speak these words, I would strait confute the wild opinion of the loose world▪ and leave this wonder dead before their Eyes.  Eth. 
Faith 'twould do well to have some proof of so untamed a valour. But yet Sir, methinks you are much mistaken in the wooing way. Sister, what will you say if I take down this lion-like Champion? this Spirit rampant? I'll undertake with two words so to humble him, that of a boisterous Roarer, he shall become as supple a Courtier as you would desire.  Pan. 
I should as much admire the miracle, as the power that effected it.  Eth. 
Mark then. Sir, as I told you, methinks you are mistaken in the way of wooing: I would have a tame Suitor, you make too much noise in a Lady's Chamber; pray let me have your Courtship in a softer Dialect.  Pis. 
Madam, the power of your love is so prevalent, that it can turn me to any shape; I can submit my mounting soul to a most gentle Carriage and sweet behaviour only for your sake Lady.  Eth. 
As how Sir? I long for an experiment.  Pis. 
Why thus: Divinest Lady, my humble service being premised—  Eth. 
What? Do you repeat your Letters? Sure this was the last you writ to your Country Mistress. Does it not follow— Hoping you are as deep in love as I am at the writing hereof— and so forth?  Pis. 
Lady I do esteemed the greatest part of my Duty, still at the first appearance to present my service to you.  Eth. 
What and give the same thing twenty times over? I thought you had presented that sufficiently already, but now I begin to suspect it as at another's command, and none of your own, you are so free on't.  Pis. 
I hope you do not take me for a servingman, or Gentleman Usher, Lady?  Eth. 
And yet that laced Cloak being so near allied to a Livery, may breed a foul suspicion.  Pis. 
Fair Madam you're mistaken.  Eth. 
What saucebox? tell me I lie. I'll make you more Obedient.  Pis. 
Would it would please you Lady to descend so low, as make me understand your will, you should always find me as quick in the Execution, as apprehension.  Eth. 
Bless me! my servant all this while, and now to seek in what pleases me? I'll hear no more at this time, I care not what's your business.  Pan. 
Nay Sister, now you are too cruel.  Eth. 
My doome's irrevocable; be gone I say; I expect no reply.  Pis. 
Your Creature.  offers to go out. Eth. 
Come back again; my humour's altered; and now I think on't, I'll put a further trial upon your Loyalty; you begin to compliment pretty well, I'll try the power of love, and see whether it can file you into a more smooth garb; and to that purpose I command you( upon pain of my displeasure) to appear never before me but as your Rival Lamprias is wont, in rhyme. I know you are not such an Enemy to the Muses, but that upon such an occasion they may smile upon you. And then for you Lamprias, because I would not have you unemployed, you shall assume his fighting humour; I love a man complete in all ways. Give him your Sword Pisistratus, he should have your buff Coat, but that your Doublet I fear is Canvas on the back: I know you'll fight courageously; and for Pisistratus, I make no question, but in a short space we shall have him as good a Poet as most at Court, and make verses on one leg as well as the best of 'em. Come Sister, let's leave 'em to think on't, when you are provided let me see you again.( Exe. Pan. Eth. Eud.)  Pis. 
Make verses on one leg? I warrant they'll halt to the purpose. Shall I turn Poet and be feasted by the Players? well! I thank my stars I am not so far to seek yet, but that I can drink, and take Tobacco, with some other initiating qualities, in which we Poets and soldiers are near allied.  Lam. 
In good faith I have not one quality of a soldier, but running away; I think we were best change habits, I could rhyme as well in thy Suit, and thou fight as manfully in mine, couldst not?  Pis. 
I but dost think she's no better sighted, than not to discern us by our faces?  Lam. 
I had forgot that; but what then shall we do?  Pis. 
Nay that I know not, let's e'en to our friend Miserotos, and take his Advice; A Looker on may see better ways in the game than a Party.   
The end of the second Act.   

ACT. 3.  

SCEN. 1.  Artemone alone. 

I Do not doubt his Love, but I could wish  
His Presence might confirm it: when I see  
A fire well fed shoot up his wanton flame,  
And dart itself into the face of heaven;  
I grant that fire without a fresh supply  
May for a while be still a fire; but yet  
How doth its lustre languish, and itself  
Grow dark, if it too long want the Embrace  
Of its loved Pyle? how strait it buried lies  
In its own ruins? Bless me my kinder Stars  
From the bad Omen! Now methinks he wrongs  
The tenderness of my Affection,  
And plays the Tyrant with my easier Love,  
He may perchance abuse the Liberty  
He ravished from me; and when he hath won  
Panareta, urge my own Consent against me.  
If his Love still be firm, O how he seems  
Too like the God that struck him; whilst he can  
Withhold his Sight, too cruel! and himself.  
It much afflicts me that my message was  
Prevented by my Father, and my Uncle.  
I'll sift the business out—————   To her, Hyperia. 

— How now my girl?  
Methinks there sits a Truth still in thy looks:  
A Treachery upon that forehead placed,  
May easily wrong a faith itself hath lost.   Hyp. 

Madam, what unknown fault of mine hath thus  
Perplexed your Entertainment? heretofore  
You were not wont to cast these frowns upon me,  
As if you meant to bury all my joys  
Within your wrinkled forehead.   Art. 

Whence hath guilt  
Borrowed this glorious shelter? how can vice  
Become thus specious, hid within the shroud  
Of an unfaulty look, and innocent tongue?  
Thy pretty pleadings make me almost love  
The ruin thou throwest on me.   Hyp. 

Madam, I dare  
Pronounce myself still free; no guilt can stain  
My Innocence; unless it be a fault  
There to be guiltless where your Sacred Tongue  
Imputes a Blot: how my grieved Eyes could weep  
To wash that scandal off from my clear Face,  
Which only your suspicion makes a Crime.   Art. 

A vice thus painted out is the best Face  
That virtue can put on: O that Lysander  
Could thus dissemble too! I then were blessed  
As much in his concealed apostasy,  
As in his better Faith.   Hyp. 

How I rejoice  
To suffer with that Name: Then I perceive  
'Tis some uncertain Rumor hath displaced  
Your wont cheerfulness.   Art. 

Were but the fame  
Uncertain, I would then call back my Smiles,  
And still shine in a free and generous Mirth.  
But oh! the grave instructions of Age,  
And the more lively Precepts of a bribe,  
Whose Innocence will not these baits o'erthrow?   Hyp. 

Now Madam, since I have discovered thus  
The poison of your sickness, give me leave  
To cure the Malady with a present Ease.  
You sent me to Lysander, as I went  
Your Father and Diarchus met me, They,  
I must confess, urged me with vehemence,  
And a severity printed in frowns  
Deeper than age had carved upon their brows:  
They threatened to Reward my falsehood too.  
( For even that whiles it would take away  
My Faith from you were but a Punishment)  
I should have told Lysander, that your flame  
Cooled by his absence now did only aim  
To seat itself within the prouder Circuit  
Of Philonax rich bosom: I did then  
Promise Obedience, which I performed  
Only in not betraying your commands,  
This is the only guilt my virtue feels  
In disobeying Artemone's Father.   Art. 

Suspicion yield a little: how I fain  
Would force myself to a belief that thou  
Speakest only Truth? but yet recall thyself,  
Do not heap guilt on guilt in a Denial  
Of what hath passed; alas! thy tender years  
Are too unripe for to delude the strong  
And mature policy of subtle Age,  
'Tis but a slender fault to be o'ercome  
By an experience such as theirs.   Hyp. 

Madam,  
Could you persuade me that it were a virtue,  
I would yet scorn to own it( Pardon Madam)  
I am not rude, I ought in such a Cause  
To be as bold as Innocence.   Art. 

Yet still methinks there heaves a jealousy,  
And will not out o'th' sudden, I feel it beat  
About my heart, O that I could believe  
Thee faithful, and might yet suspect Lysander:  
There's something whispers me thou art not false,  
And yet I must still doubt of him.   Hyp. 

This Madam is  
But to distrust me in a fairer word,  
You Gods that kept me Innocent, by the same power  
Make it appear so, else it is but vain  
To worship whilst you're as blind as Love,  
Virtue is worth your miracle; Create  
Some new way which may blot this scandal out:  
I can bring only tears to plead my Faith,  
And would I could weep Rivers to maintain  
My secrecy to you, in the same way  
As I would expiate some horrid Crime.   Art. 

Enough, Th' hast won my Faith, and kept thy own:  
Then pardon my best girl the vain Surmise  
The frailty of my love possessed me with.  
Let Father threaten, and that next dear Name  
Of Uncle plot against my happiness,  
Let them contrive my ruin, and infect  
Their Care with Malice too, so I enjoy  
Faithful Lysander, and Hyperia.—  
Yet oh this Absence!——   She wanlks melancholy.  

SCEN. 2.  To them, Theocles. The. 

O The strange subleties of a woman's love.  
We must embrace our Punishment, and swear  
We are rewarded when they torture us:  
What Comfort dwells in that frail sex, whose best  
Of kindness proves a sting? have I for this  
Consumed my heart in Passions? and through sighs  
Breathed out my Soul to find a better dwelling  
Within Ethusa's breast, and yet does she  
Dislike my Presence, and pretend love too?  
Alas I must not visit her; Though't be death  
Not to enjoy that Face, I dare not see it.  
Let those unpitied Lovers turn their plaints  
Into glad Jubiles, whose constant suit  
Meets a perpetual frown: I envy that  
Which they esteem the worst of misery:  
Would I might be denied still; They, at least  
Enjoy this Comfort, to behold the hand  
That strikes, whiles 'tis my Fate to die i'th' dark.  
The Tempest is then lessened whiles the Sun  
Mingles his rays with the unruly showers,  
But in the horror of a gloomy night  
The shipwreck multiplies, and the sad strokes  
Fall double still. If I behold her face,  
( That Face which hitherto hath made me live)  
I then must cease to be; for that's the doom  
Of her displeasure; howe'er my Plot  
Backed with success may soon dispel these clouds.—  
— What? Musing Sister? your looks seems to wear  
A manly seriousness; all your Gestures  
Should be as soft as an embrace.   Art. 

I confess  
I did not dress my look, nor put it on,  
As we do use our Gorgets, by the glass;  
But if it brags no lustre sprung from joy  
Of your Arrival, it belies my heart.  
But where's Lysander pray y'? for sure you'll want  
Part of your welcome, whilst that Name's forgot.   Hyp. 

Urge that way Theocles, 'tis the best physic  
To a melancholy virgin to hear talk  
Of one that loves her, nay some say there is  
A sickness which that Name can only cure,  
Which the poor Doctor fain would undertake.   Art. 

Stop thy lascivious tongue, and do not dare  
To think the rest.— But brother, you tell me not  
How fares Lysander.   The. 

How I see friendship throughly in that Name?  
Men talk of Pylades, and I know not what  
Strange Enterprizes of rash Theseus;  
But this Lysander, how he outgoes all story?  
Give me a man made up of the Extractions  
And quintessence of all whom ever yet  
Fame with her loudest Trumpet hath proclaimed  
For Men of Loyal Breasts, and this same Man,  
This Man thus filled with Friendship, shall yet learn  
A way to love from our Lysander.   Art. 

Sure  
You'll strait commend him into some new God:  
But I dare still wish after all this noise,  
That he were yet complete in a firm love.   The. 

That were to lose a wish; I never yet  
Could tell of any that had made a choice  
To fix his love within the tender compass  
Of a fair virgin's bosom, to which he thought  
The heavens themselves were poor, and would contemn  
The gaudy competition of the stars,  
And yet one whom a friends request  
Might tempt from all these joys, who for that Name  
Durst leap from his Elysium: just such  
A Miracle is our Lysander.   Art. 

And is the faith you braged of come to this?  
How all his Praises vanish! you do ill  
To raise my hopes to such an height, and then  
The only Argument of his Constancy  
Is, that he's false to Me: 'Tis no such miracle  
Of Love since you thus prize it, to betray  
A Credulous Maid.   The. 

Heavens and Gods defend it!  
He plies my Suit, but no way leaves off you:  
That love, which some say is begot by sight,  
And born within the eye, yet does not perish  
At every distance, nor yet die entombed  
In a dark mournful wink, 'tis stronger weaved,  
And grows more knotty then to be easily broke  
At each small Absence. When you see two Irons  
Receive an equal virtue from the Loadstone,  
How they both stir at once, and though divided  
By many envious miles, yet how they move  
And dance one way still! Thus your Lysander's love  
As near as your own heart, replies to yours,  
And still is constant here, though still abroad:  
Indeed he's grown unto that strength of love  
Guarded with an unjealous Faith, he dares  
In such a Cause be absent from your face,  
And only meet you in a Constant heart.   Hyp. 

I always told her thus, whilst she replied  
I was too young to know a lover's heart.   Art. 

Heavens know, and the God's witness, I'd allow  
So long an absence as might even bring  
My love in question, if ought thence should rise  
To further your Desires: But pardon Brother,  
If I esteem th'adventure of one visit  
Less fatal than to cross your hopes: He might  
Advance your flame, and not neglect his own.   The. 
Sister, he dares not dream of a neglect.  Hyp. 
Still for my faithfulness.  Art. 

He should much wrong  
The love I bear his virtues to contemn it:  
But though he fling no other Scorn upon me,  
'Tis one that he is absent.   The. 

How I grieve,  
That Love should be thus blind.   aside. Art. 
What? troubled Brother?  The. 

Only I thought how ill Ethusa's Face  
Did suit with a disdain▪   Art. 

There's something more  
In the quick change, you were not wont so soon  
To let Lysander vanish from your Thoughts,  
When he's fixed there he, fills so great a space,  
That Nothing else can enter, no not Ethusa;  
Your looks inform that you unwilling hide  
A truth which you are loath to utter: say,  
What strange mishap dares vex your knowledge? is  
Lysander safe?   The. 

Alas Sister know,  
'Tis one that's nearer than Lysander suffers.   Art. 
What still Ethusa?  The. 

Nay one nearer yet:  
Know then 'tis your misfortune throws these clouds  
Upon my darkened Face.— And I could still  
Suppress the Cause. Faith Sister let it pass.   Art. 

Nay then I will conjure you to reveal  
Your Thoughts at full.   The. 

I can hold out no longer.  
First then( with pardon that yourself hath screwed  
And wrung out the Relation which my promptness  
Should freely offer) know that Lysander loves  
Panareta; nay so as I could wish  
His love as great to you: At first indeed  
He did but fain Affection, and put on  
Courtship, as if he thought you present still,  
But won by her sweet ordered Carriage  
And fair converse, he like the giddy Fly,  
Long sporting with the pleasant light, at length  
Embraced the cruel flame: He needs not strive  
To vent an artificial Sigh or Tear,  
He does not labour now t'express a groan  
Or doubtful accent, which may more betray  
Skill then affection; Cupid uncompelled  
Sits in his Face, as proud to conquer him,  
Whose Counterfeit seemed to upbraid his power.  
This sad discovery, to my troubled thoughts  
Carries an equal irksomeness t'unfold,  
As to suppress; for thus I lose a Friend,  
Who else should wrong a Sister.   Art. 

Brother,  
Is not the sum of all, Lysander's falsehood?  
Methought I heard a Thing like this: That sense  
Had but that discreet faculty to err!   The. 

O this villain falsehood! That I might  
Enjoy my own wish, and not murder his! aside.  
How I repent my Sin ere it be done!  
But I must through it, and yet bring it out  
This new strange way by still denying it.  
No Sister he's not false.   Art. 

What was it then  
Your speech delivered to my trembling Ear?   The. 

'Twas that Lysander was grown false: I cannot  
With my best Art conceal't: Indeed he's false.   Hyp. 

What will become of me now? They'll believe  
My treachery hath wrought all this, and then  
Where is that Faith I bragged of?   Art. 

Prithee Brother  
Withdraw a while; heaven knows I love thee better  
Then to enjoy thy company in tears.   The. 

I'll obey, and watch the progress of his suit:  
What though Lysander yet is my true friend,  
( If that can be whilst he's my sister's foe)  
That Title shall not draw a wrong on you,  
Hold then and I already clasp Ethusa.   Exit. The. Hyp. 
Fair Madam—  Art. 

Prithee I am not fair,  
I was so when Lysander loved me; That  
Was all my Beauty.   Hyp. 

I am glad yet she will not  
Hear me; she has not leisure then to chide.   Art. 

And can Lysander thus forget his vows?  
And cease to love? or place his unjust flame  
In a new bosom? He can; and may perhaps  
Feel a Revenge high as his Injury.  
'Tis vain to shed a Tear: if he be false  
He not deserves one Jewel from my eyes.  
( For thus he once would flatter even my tears)  
Grant me but this ye Gods, that he may feel  
A cold repulse, and once more woo my love,  
I would then trample on his base Devotions,  
And joy in my revenge, which only thus  
Would seem too Small that it comes after his;  
And to his further Rage, I'd even woo  
A flame hid in his enemy's breast.    

SCEN. 3.  To them, Melesippus, Diarchus. Diar. 

PLy her strongly Brother, give her not time  
Merely to breathe: if her unguided answer  
Would fain be clothed in a denial, if  
A discontent break from her forehead, then  
Lay out your Power, stifle her speech i'th' birth,  
And choke all passage up with the rehearsal  
Of that loud Name of Father.   Mel. 

I am perfect  
In your Instructions. Daughter you still appear  
Wrapped up in Clouds, and whilst other Ladies  
Study their boxes, and still practise helps  
For to preserve their Beauty, you alone  
Desire the ruin of your own Face: Fie!  
Grow cheerful, I shall else perhaps conceive  
That I am your Disease.   Art. 

Father, your presence  
Is always welcome as of my Tutelar God,  
And it must needs be some strange unheard of message  
That makes your sight grow tedious.   Dia. 

Brother now.  
Now for my counsel.   Mel. 

Nay then I have it:  
Now Artemone by a father's plea,  
By the unbounded limits of Sire—   Dia. 

And by the privilege an Uncle bears  
In a reflection from that Sacred Name—   Hyp. 
Here are love Philtrums now; hay for Philonax.  Art. 

Do not thus wrong the virtue you have given me:  
What need these charms? when even your fainter breath,  
Though uttered in a more familiar sound,  
Would prove a spell unconquered.   Mel. 

We do not bring  
Any severer magic by whose art  
Thou might'st be suppled to thy overthrow.   Dia. 

Love is our sole enchantment, and a Care  
For your continual welfare.   Art. 

Alas such news  
Would challenge its own welcome, though not involved  
In this mysterious Dialect: drop reg've not heard  
Of any one so much his own bad friend  
As to be wooed to a Good-fortune; know then  
Father and Uncle, styles of Providence,  
What e'er the message be your Cares have brought,  
I will receive it with a Joy as great,  
As much unlimited as I grant your power,  
And in acknowledgement shall still remain  
Due to your free disposal.   Dia. 

Some hopes yet,  
I see she's well prepared.   Mel. 

Ay, here's the sound  
Of sweet Obedience! why should tender years  
Fling off their Fortunes through an Appetite  
And fit of liking: That Affection  
Will prove most durable, where knowing Age  
And a considerate choice confirm the match.   Dia. 

Well, I'll be silent yet, my lesser power  
May but perchance hinder the good Event.   Art. 

Then I perceive that love will be the scope  
Of this authentic language; your discourse  
Well seasoned with a grave discretion,  
And the Authority of a Parents will  
Have thus far won upon me: I confess  
Though in the hastiness of my Desires  
As far as my Affection is my own,  
( Yet still reserving a due share for you)  
I have in heart betrothed it to Lysander,  
Yet not so chained, but that your just displeasure  
Might break the knot, or( what I'd rather wish)  
Your mild advice untie it.   Hyp. 

A brave cunning Lady!  
Her Father now must thank her, and be obliged  
Because he'll grant her wish.   Dia. 

Let but my niece  
Hold on this course, and by my better hopes  
I will reward her as she were my Daughter:  
And by the Dowry I will cast upon her,  
It shall be thought she was Diarchus issue.   Art. 

Sir, though I did not hope for a Reward  
Besides the naked Act of my clear duty,  
I should not start from my obedience:  
My thoughts are so Immaculate, that I  
Could never mean to buy my Innocence,  
And make a Trade of virtue.   Mel. 

Then my girl,  
I hope thou art prepared to entertain  
Philonax's love, he, the Senator?   Art. 

I feel my coldness melting! Sir, your breath  
Hath raised a heat in my Affections,  
Which until then were frozen. I confess,  
And now dare speak it; I love Philonax,  
And were he present, could receive his Courtship  
With more than formal kindness.   Dia. 

Hyperia,  
Go and entreat him hither.   Exe. Hyp. Mel. 

Tell him we expect  
His quick approach: I would not have him slip  
This very punctual minute; Sure this Love  
Hath his set times; would he were here already.  
How aguish her desires are! Now 'tis her fit  
To like and to be well; now she grows hot  
And zealous in her Love, which erst was cooled  
And fanned by a chill Scorn: There is an hour  
Lucky to Suitors, and 'tis fallen out now.  
Let all young men hereafter woo by th'Clock,  
Try how the pulse beats, and promote their suit,  
As we give physic by the almanac;  
Search how the weather goes; such a day's fair,  
For Lovers, fair as their own Mistress Face;  
Such a day's clouded o'er with frowns, and brings  
Foul weather, shed for her distorted looks.—  
Is he not come yet? how I begin to fear  
This good time will be over-straight? not yet?—  
It is a wealthy Suitor.— Here he comes.—    

SCEN. 4.  To them, Philonax. Hyp. 

— NOble Philonax, your quick arrival  
Honours your Servants, and I hope shall meet  
Their thanks in an Enjoyment of their wishes   Phi. 

Thanks Melesippus, if I should add Father,  
'Twere but a while to antedate that Name,  
I know she can't stand out long against me.  
Worthy Diarchus your Servant.   Dia. 

I embrace  
Your love, and wish that we were nearer yet  
By an alliance.   Phi. 

You wrong your judgement, Sir,  
To wish it, she's mine already.   Mel. 

Or else no child of mine,  
We have only chaffed the virgin wax,  
To make her fit for your Impression.   Dia. 

I hope his Confidence will prevail,  
we'll leave you to your stars, and courtship now.   Mel. 
Be plaint girl.  Exe. Mele. Diar. Phi. 

Fair Lady, I am not like those that aim  
Instead of a fair wife to steal a Portion,  
But bring a Dowry with me; nor do I woo  
With a set form of weary compliments,  
But with a strong enchanting Title: tell me,  
Art thou the senator's Bride?   Art. 

Sir, the Confidence  
Which your Deserts put on, would misbecome  
My native modesty: 'twere Arrogance  
T' accept proffers so beyond my state,  
And I should thereby seem to grant some worth  
●●ich caused your liking.   Phi. 

Strange, that we should be  
Denied because we are too great; a Title  
That other Ladies are ambitious of,  
Whose queasy Conscience stands not on such points  
To refuse honour. I have heard of some  
Have been with child merely with a deep thought  
Of a great Title; I must needs confess  
It was my Fate to be born high and noble,  
Of proud Command; but yet I can vouchsafe  
And deignt' accept your love.   Art. 

Worthy Sir,  
Do not thus stoop below yourself, alas!  
When I shall sit circled within your arms,  
How shall I cast a blemish on your honour,  
And appear only like some falser stone  
Placed in a ring of gold, which grows a Jewel  
But from the seat which holds it.   Phi. 

How I love  
One that so well can read my swelling worth  
At the first sight. Know then Artemone,  
My judgement chooses Thee; for so it will  
Be styled what ere I do: our great Revenues  
Would prove half fruitless if that we could err:  
It is a main prerogative of honour  
To be discreet whether we will or no;  
We are infallible whilst we have thus much gold;  
To be called Prudent and Judicious,  
We challenge now as we would do our Rents:  
thou'rt fair, and worthy, when thou'rt my Bride.   Art. 

But I could wish I'd somewhat of my own,  
That my timorous consent might not wrong your merits.   Phi. 

Ne'er talk o'th' disproportion; I'd not wed  
One whose estate already were as great,  
But I would marry that we might be equal:  
And even as far as love can make us so  
We are already.   Art. 

Sir, if you understand a virgin's Face  
Painted with red whilst a true Lover's by,  
You have my meaning.   Phi. 

drop reg've a divining guess,  
And do conceive so well, that I could wish  
You would pronounce my thoughts, and bless yourself  
With that rich word of being called my Bride.   Art. 
Then I assume the honour of your Bride.  Phi. 

And thus we seal the Contract. I knew always kisses her▪  
'Twas but the weakness of thy modesty  
That kept thee off: though some to try my Faith,  
Would often buzz in my incredulous ears,  
That 'twas the love of one Lysander.   Art. 

He  
Once begged indeed that he might be my servant.   Phi. 

Thy Servant? In-faith handsomely urged, he sure  
Observes the learned Roman apothegms,  
And thinks it the best way to gain a kingdom  
By his obedience: Thus he'll be your slave,  
That he may rule and fetter you; thus he woos  
With language picked up from the Senate house:  
The vanity of these Affected Lovers  
Which hide their Suit in that submissive strain,  
Were well rewarded not to be understood.   Art. 

With pardon Sir, 'tis but the common garb  
And fashion of most Suitors.—   Phi. 

Ay, the common garb,  
Give me a man that scorns that beaten way,  
And owes his Passage to himself; 'Tis base,  
And argues a low spirit, to be taught  
By custom, and to let the vulgar grow  
To our example: 'Tis to betray a Virgin,  
And urge the merit of a Treachery  
To win Affection: I do not love  
This riddling Dialect, and how ever grown  
Above the pitch of any thing that's vulgar,  
Am plain in my Demands: Tell me, art' mine,  
I add not Mistress, be that the feigned voice  
Of them who stretch their wits but to delude:  
And cheat thy love.   Art. 

Sir, I am so far yours  
As you shall please to style me, and embrace  
The Name of any Thing your will puts on me▪   Phi. 

'Tis the discretion of thy modesty  
Thus to rely on me; but prithee tell me,  
Is there no rival-Name left in thy bosom?  
Does no part of Lysander still rest there?  
Is He quite vanished? for I would be loath  
To mingle Faith, and to divide Affection;  
Thou shouldst be mine entire.   Art. 

I would not wrong  
A Suitor of that bounteous worth which dwells  
Within your prudent breast, with an half Marriage  
I should be then but partly blessed, since all  
My happiness is only thus confirmed  
In being wholly yours. But I can bring  
A stronger proof than my bare Testimony,  
Thus to clear all suspicion of a love  
Tied to some other; here I humbly offer,  
And( though against the privilege of my sex)  
Beg your acceptance that we may be joined  
As firm together as each of us are  
Chained to ourselves; Let the Marriage knot  
Combine our hands in witness of the league  
Made by our twinned souls.   Phi. 

Thus thou hast removed  
All scruple from my Thoughts, 'Tis not the voice  
Of Hymen, nor his Priest can more confirm  
My faith in Thee: But for that other knot  
Which links our hands together, that a while  
Must be defered, to be attended on  
By the magnificence of Ceremony.  
It were a scandal to the height in which  
My Dignity is spheared to have a wedding  
With no more Celebration than the Priests:  
I must not wound my Fame, nor let my state  
Thus long held up now droop, and grow obscure,  
They must be both kept whole, and my repute  
Must flourish still unblemished.   Art. 

My desires  
Shall wait on yours, and I'll no more pursue  
The haste of Marriage, since 'tis your command  
That we expect it still.   Phi. 

How I applaud  
The obedience of thy love! A while farewel:  
But stay; we must yet ere I leave thee, thus  
Salute, else we have parted all this while:  
I am not yet skilled in the compliments  
Which love requires: no matter, I shall learn 'em.  
Once more farewell: I'll hasten the dispatch  
Of all fit Entertainments.   Exe. Philo. Art. 

Sir, farewell:  
So; to my wish; Now whom Lysander hates  
Shall reap the comfort of my Bridal bed:  
I am not taken with this Philonax  
For all his styles of honour: but no matter,  
It is resolved, I'll love him; and perhaps  
Wean him from those false pleasures, which his Pride  
Hath fastened on him; I see his vanity,  
He courts, as if against all Cupids rules,  
He would command upon the Marriage day,  
And yet I soothe him in it, lest my coyness  
Should drive him back, and my revenge be lost:  
Hereafter I'll reform him, and so gain  
A praise to vengeance, which though 'tis a vice,  
( If all hit right) yet shall produce a virtue.   Exe. Omnes.  
The end of the third Act.   

ACT. 4.  

SCEN. 1.  Panareta. Ethusa. Pan. 

SIster, you know how oft you have professed  
My word should be the Square of all your Actions.   Eth. 

I not deny the promise, and my deeds  
Shall speak as much.   Pan. 

How I should hug thy kindness,  
If this soft temper were but settled on Thee:  
And Thou as yet knewest not the rigorous Scorn  
To hate a worthy Lover.   Eth. 

Such a one  
Next to yourself I'd cherish, but you then  
Must give me leave with mine own eyes to see  
And judge him worthy.   Pan. 

Ah Sister! do you thus  
Observe what you professed? Is my word now  
The square of all your actions?   Eth. 

Pardon Sister,  
This is a matter of a higher Nature,  
Then to be taken up on trust: In things  
Of an indifferent strain I shall submit:  
But on that base which props my Fate, I must  
Call my own judgement unto Counsel there.   Pan. 

Where is that solemn Reverence than you'll pay  
To my experienced Discretion?  
Is this the honour you bestow upon  
A judgement, to intrust it with mere Trifles?   Eth. 
Then you would have me to love Theocles?  Pan. 

'Tis the Ambition of my best wishes: he's  
A man so well accomplished, that I should  
Grow Envious, if he were once bestowed  
On any but a Sister.   Eth. 

he's a man  
Sufficient, whose Suit I'd hear with pity,  
If you'll grant mine.   Pan. 
Speak, and thou hast thy wish.  Eth. 

Then cease to love Lysander; one of that state  
That he'll be wooed forsooth; you must bespeak  
And flatter his Affection; shortly I fear  
he'll have you visit him and kiss his hand.   Pan. 

Ah cruel Sister! dost thou thus reward  
My best of wishes for thy unhappy self,  
To rob me of mine own? Thou'st given a wound,  
Only Lysander can inflict a greater:  
When that Name's tortured then I feel a rack,  
My fortunes are so woven into his,  
( Like Phydia's Image in the Deity)  
( And he's my God too) that what ere mishap  
Strives to deface him, the same ruins me.  
Not love him? prithee bid me not be Panareta,  
Bid me confine the air within my hand,  
And grasp a Thought: This were an easier task.   To them Theocles his Page. Pag. 

The only fair of Ladies!  
My Master Theocles with his humblest service  
Directs this Letter to kiss your white hands.   Pan. 
You mean my Sister sure.  Pag. 

It is endorsed  
With your name to Panareta.   She takes the Letter. Eth. 

The Lad speaks well, had his Neat compliment  
But left some beauty too for me: Did Theocles  
Teach you these manners?   Pag. 

Madam within that Face  
I see your Picture drawn so well, I may  
Without a wrong to your divinest Feature,  
Style that the only beauty.   Pan. 
Return our thanks, tell him h'hath shown a Skilful Friendship.  Pag. 
Madam, I'll bless his Ears with your acceptance.  Exe. Page. Pan. 
I must peruse't again; such good news gathers Strength, and grows i'th' Repetition.  She reads. Eth. 

See how she melts! with what delight she reads?  
And dwells upon each syllable; as if  
She had received a packet in one letter.  
Sure it must needs be love! if Theocles  
( Fool that I am, that I can't call him mine)  
But if my Theocles should bow his Flame,  
And force it' stoop unto Panareta's Love▪  
To what a pass than hath my coyness brought me?  
I fear 'tis no vain guess; perhaps he thus  
Shoots his disdain at me; and he may now  
Love with Revenge more than Affection.  
Now Sister; how do you like his Courtship?  
Is it not full, as if there dropped a heart  
From his swollen pen?   Pan. 
I like his Courtship?  Eth. 

Heavens! she's too honest to deny't,  
H'hath learned contempt from me.   Pan. 
How Sister, caught?  Eth. 

I am, and foolishly have caught myself;  
I had not lost him, had I not been too sure  
That he was mine.   Pan. 

Sister, you've made me glad  
In this discovery, news almost as good  
As that the Letter brought me.   Eth. 

And can you then  
Prize any thing as high as Theocles?  
His love should be more than expression.   Pan. 
Still you increase my joys.  Eth. 

Nay let it not  
Be sport that I am ruined, because thence  
You gain a fortune.   Pan. 

Since 'tis gone thus far,  
I hope 'tis past recall: Then you love Theocles!   Eth. 

As I do health or virtue: but do not mock  
At my misfortune; sure he loved me once.   Pan. 

And does so still: if you desire a proof,  
Read his own Letter.   Eth. 

Thus he that executes  
Holds out the Axe which cuts away our life,  
And we are first killed through the Eyes. I'll read,  
But prithee Sister, if I chance to sigh  
Or wet the paper with a Tear, as if  
I'd drown the sad contents, prithee at least  
Bestow a pity on me, and confess  
My loss deserves this sadness. Now I die.   She reads. Artemone, through a jealousy I wrought in her, hath cast off Lysander; my aim is; that despairing here, he may esteem your love as it deserves—— 

But is it then no worse? I feel a Joy  
Running through all my veins, and I conceive  
That I may live still.   Pan. 

Nay but read on,  
There's somewhat else left that requires your notice.   Eth. 

Oh is the wound behind still! I had thought  
There could no poison follow such fair words:  
But be it what it will, I'll taste it.   She reads on. —— I have my reward, if you further my suit to Ethusa. Theocles. 

I'd thought I was in heaven before: but now  
I'm past the reach of Envy.   If you further my suit to Ethusa. 

O what a relish  
Flow from these words? I am thine Theocles,  
Thine own without a mediators help:  
But prithee Sister do not thou betray  
The weakness of my passion; let me still  
Hold out, and though you know my eagerness,  
Let me come slowly on; I would yield  
Too soon, though I have yielded all already:  
I can't deny his suit, yet I'd be loath  
To fly into his arms; I would retain  
Some modesty i'th' height of passion.   Pan. 

As I would not desire you should woo,  
So I would wish you would not be too stiff,  
One stubbornness may lose us both.   Eth. 

I'll not wrong  
The hopes of either, since to Tyrannize  
Longer o'er him, were to torment myself.    

SCEN. 2.  To them Lysander walking silently. Pan. 

MY dear Lysander,  
thou'rt opportunely welcome; for no time  
Is thought unfit when to enjoy thy presence.  
'Tis season at thy very Entrance.   He walks by. Eth. 
What? is he grown a Mummer?  Lys. 
One of your Making Lady.  Eth. 

'Troth than you have forgot your vizard Sir,  
My Maid shall fetch a mask.   Lys. 

No Lady, I can be content for once  
To look upon you through one pair of eyes.   Pan. 
Come, do not thus revenge yourself.  still he walks by. Eth. 
What? is Lysander come yet?  Lys. 
Yes, and with him the neglect you taught him.  Eth. 

Troth Sir,  
I'd forgot the Mask, and was thinking to have  
Sent for yourself.   Lys. 
Prithee good Lady send: faith not worth a servant.  Eth. 
I have one Sir ready at call. Eudora.  To them Eudora. Eud. 
Madam.  Eth. 
Go call Lysander hither.  Eud. 
I go Madam. Lysander! Does not your ladyship mean Theocles?  Eth. 
I tell thee girl Lysander.  Eud. 
Madam he's there before you.  Eth. 
O I cry thee mercy, are you the man? well, leave us.  Ex. Eud. Lys. 
I was once, and there are some here could wish I were so still.  Pan. 

There is indeed Lysander. he walks by.  
Still slighted? what a strange rage tears my divided breast?  
See Sister, what a Monster your disdain hath  
Made me; I'm not worth the speaking to:  
Prithee calm him, and yield a little, I know  
'Tis thy neglect to his friend Theocles,  
That robs him thus of his Civility.   Eth. 

I will endeavour.  
Pray Sir, from whence rise these strange  
Postures?   Lys. 
You may inform yourself.  Eth. 
My Ignorance will not Admit of a conjecture.  Lys. 

Know then,  
It is your cruelty to that best of men,  
The faithful Theocles.   Eth. 

This is stranger yet;  
Suppose that true, yet how can this excuse  
The sullenness of your Temper?   Lys. 

Thus;  
You know my vows are past so to regard  
Panareta, as you do Theocles,  
To whom your disrespect does bind my Faith  
To show her this disguised behaviour:  
'Tis you, her Sister, wrongs her.   Eth. 

I know not, but methinks I feel  
Some yielding passions; if there be a name  
Next under Love, That, he hath won already,  
I bear some good will towards Theocles.   Lys. 

If you expect no more from me, that task  
Is soon performed: I bear some good will too  
Towards Panareta.   Pan. 

Alas, that's a bounty  
You have still granted me without a Suit;  
I aim at somewhat higher.   Lys. 

Pardon Lady,  
My vow that keeps me off.   Pan. 

Prithee Ethusa  
Grow nearer in thy love to Theocles.  
'Tis one advantage yet, since 'tis my Fate  
To woo, to beg help through a sister's love.   Eth. 

Lysander then I challenge all your vow;  
That you affect constant Panareta, since  
I now begin to honour Theocles.   Lys. 

Then vanish hence all roughness; fairest Lady,  
I now profess myself what I was forced to hide,  
Myself your humblest Creature.   Pan. 

Blessed change:  
'Tis music all thou speakest: this late disorder  
Heightens my joy: thus we owe thanks toth' cloud  
That robs us of our Sun, that after he  
May show a face more washed and clean.   Lys. 

But yet▪  
I must needs grant there are some trifling vows  
Made to another love, fair Artemone,  
Which I would fain forget.   Pan. 

But dare you then  
If she send back those vows, and remit all  
Your kinder promises; if she renounce  
And slight your former love, dare you then place  
Those vows on me.   Lys. 

By all the faith of oaths  
Than I will love none but Panareta.   Pan. 

Fixed in this confidence, I will no more  
Be troubled with this torment Jealously.   Lys. 

Nor shall you find just cause: you freely now  
Dare trust my absence; There's a Passion burns  
Struggling within my breast, which checks my love,  
And tells me, I delay the news too long,  
For want of which my Theocles doth languish.   Eth. 

Confirm him strongly in my affection,  
Leave him no scruple unresolved; tell him  
I languish too, and shall expect his Visit.   Lys. 
Worthy Madam thanks for these brave employments▪  Ex. Lys. Pan. 

I owe these joys all unto Thee; nor yet  
Shall I appear ungrateful, since I have used  
No other means for my own happiness,  
But what may prove the readiest way to thine:  
Thus thou enjoyest Thy Theocles; thus thy love  
Is like a virtuous Deed, its own reward—    

SCEN. 3.  
To them Philonax.  
— NOw Noble Philonax.  Phi. 
It wrongs my Faith  
To Artemone but to see that Face.  aside. Pan. 

Dare you not trust our Ears with what you whisper?  
You were not wont to be alone with us.   Phi. 
I dare, though what I speak be my own poison.  Eth. 

If he talk venom, will not his discourse  
Blister our ears? In-faith mine begin to tingle already.   Phi. 

Know then Panareta, since I left that Face  
( In which resides my only happiness)  
I thought I could forget it, and at length  
I thought I might not love it: your disdain  
Raised up these treasons, 'gainst the Majesty  
Of your unequalled beauty; then I strove  
To love fair Artemone, as the white  
Which Cupid's shaft might easier penetrate:  
I wooed but with an ill success: for she  
Straight granted, and bethought her presently  
Upon the Marriage; she talked nothing but  
Wedding solemnities, and with such eagerness  
I thought herself would make the Bridal song:  
It is agreed with all; Grave Melesippus  
And sage Diarchus too have fealed the Match  
With their too free consents; my business here  
Was to take back those vows, which yet your Scorn  
Would ne'er vouchsafe t'admit: but being uncharmed  
From Artemone, and again fettered  
Within the glorious prison of your Face,  
I must now beg that you deny my suit,  
Y'ave struck a ray with those fair wounding Eyes  
That chains my heart unto 'em.   Eth. 

O the tricks  
That love deceives with, how it never goes  
Abroad with his own Face.   Pan. 

But tell me, are you sure  
That Artemone hath bestowed herself  
Freely on you? Do not mock my Fancy,  
Which may be credulous against myself.   Phi. 

As sure as I shall hazard all my fortunes  
In your just hate, whom my still ardent flame  
Pursues with a strong Faith.   Pan. 

Then carry hence  
This beam of comfort, if you dare affirm  
she's false to her Lysander, that I thus  
May be revenged of his unjust disdain,  
Whilst he shall lose all his best hopes in her,  
You shall much please me, and soon meet my thanks.  
Come Sister.   Exe. Pan. Ethu. Phi. 

Then happy Philonax who thus doth woo  
One Bride, that he may have the choice of two.   Ex. Phil.  

SCEN. 4.  Mise. Pis. Lamp. Pis. 
NAy, but I prithee good Miserotos, hast thou thought on the means whereby we might effect our Desires?  Lam. 
Ay, that is it we desire to know.  Mis. 
O you can speak plain language now.  Lam. 
Yes, in-faith, the power of love hath reform me, yet at first I was very unwieldy to be wrought into passable prose. But to the Plot you promised.  Mis. 
Then thus: You know your Mistress hath enjoined you to change humours; you Pisistratus to make Sonnets altogether, and speak nothing but rhyme: you Lamprias to fight and swagger as he was wont.  Lam. 
Yes, this we know too well, but which way we may execute it, are altogether ignorant.  Mis. 
I'll tell you: you Lamprias shall pen some verses which Pisistratus shall deliver as his own.  Lam. 
Ay, but what then? he cannot lend me any of his valour, how shall he requite me?  Mis. 
Be patient a while and mark; you shall make him besides some other verses by way of common place, to furnish him with an answer in rhyme upon most occasions. Now in lieu of this courtesy, he shall let you in the presence of his Mistress give him any opprobrious terms whatsoever, and with patience receive 3. or 4. blows and kicks from you: which must needs give a sufficient Testimony of your mutual change, and her power that effected it.  Lam. 
Thanks kind Miserotos; this plot is admirable: I'll pen some thundering speech for myself, which if I have the grace to pronounce with a brave courage, I am made for ever: But I much fear, I shall hardly find in my heart to beat this Pisistratus, I have found him always so boisterous; and then I have no skill at my weapon.  Mis. 
O 'tis but practising a little, you may beat your man or so.  Lam. 
What if I practised first upon one of my Landladies Maids?  Mis. 
That's base and cowardly.  Lam. 
Or one of her little boys?  Mis. 
Well, do as you will; but see that you look and speak very courageously.  Pis. 
But what shall I do if he chance to ask me some questions, to which I have no answer in verse?  Lam. 
Why I'll tell you the trick on't; 'Tis but thinking of two words that are rhyme first; and I'll warrant you with a very little pain, you may screw some other words to make up the verse: 'tis no great matter though one be sometimes shorter than another; a cripple verse that halts upon crutches, sometimes does very well, and moves compassion.  Pis. 
Why look you, let's hear you rhyme, here's two words, Armado, and lancepresado.  Lam. 
For your sake Madam, I fear not an Armado, For I would kill 'em all with my lancepresado.  Pis. 
Very well: here's two other; Musket and Helmet.  Lam. 
O Sir, that's no rhyme; you must by all means take a great care that your verses fall in the like sound, or else you spoil all.  Pis. 
What if I read some of our late versifiers for exercise? for I think there are none better to bring a man to a smooth familiar stile of rhyming, than some of our Modern Poems that treat of Executions, and Monsters born in other Countries.  Mis. 
What Ballads?  Pis. 
So I think they call 'em.  Mis. 
Out upon 'em: treat of executions say you? it is one to read 'em; and for Monsters, they can feign none so prodigious as themselves: I'll be judged by your Friend Lamprias else.  Lam. 
Indeed I always esteemed them scarce fit for a gentleman's survey; and yet since Watermen, and such people have dabbled in Poetry, I see no reason why they may not be gathered into a Volume, and called Works: Howsoever I believe it will not be amiss for a young Sucking Poet as you are to take all advantage of imitation.  Pis. 
Ay, as if I had a mind to wish her happy, thus would I rhyme.  
God save your beauty Lady fair,  
And send it long to reign;  
And eke your loyal Servants all  
In health and wealth maintain.  Lam. 
Yes, yes, such may serve very well, being 'tis a way you never were skilled in: But I'll furnish you as well as I can with verses and rhymes to give an Answer to most questions, or else stand by and prompt you. You'll keep counsel, and never be discontented if it fall to my lot to enjoy her, as I promise in the same case for you.  Pis. 
Ne'er doubt me; but be you sure you do not kick too hard, for I shall be myself again presently if you do. Come let's be gone, and prepare ourselves.  Exe. Pis. Lam. Mis. 
I will by no means miss this sport, it will be excellent mirth to hear the Captain thunder out his amorous soft strains, and my tother friend whine out some bombast speech in a lamentable amorous tone: I'll be sure to follow 'em.  Ex. Mis.  

SCEN. 5.  Lysander alone. 

I Do repent thy wrongs virtuous Panareta;  
And will release the Injuries, and now strive  
To love in earnest; I'll repeat her sighs  
With a true groan, I'll mock her misery  
No more with grief printed but forehead deep,  
I know her love is as her virtues are,  
Entire and constant: But what rebellion  
Weighs down my soul? And can I spend a passion  
In any besides Artemones Name?  
She is all Faith and beauty, there my heart  
Chained with the strength of vows hath fixed itself.  
Where I am equally beloved of two,  
'Tis not ingratitude but my destiny  
To forsake one: I should love Artemone,  
But must Panareta. O where's my Friend,  
The News I carry will cheer him, though't wound  
The Man that tells it: I have won Ethusa  
Unto his bosom, but drop reg've lost myself.   To him Theocles. The. 
What Friend, alone?  Lys. 

No; for I'm never dispossessed of Thee,  
And thy fair Sister.   The. 

'Tis one of those good faults  
We cannot quarrel at: but I could wish  
That you were freer with Panareta.   Lys. 

And I, that I were quite released her sight!  
drop reg've been too free already, and so far  
Have yielded though against myself,  
That she hath gained Ethusa to your love:  
And I am now sadly employed from her  
To tell you she is yours. Pardon Friend,  
If I can spin a grief out from the web  
Of your delights, suck poison from your Joy:  
'Tis not well done to put me on these snares  
And thorns of Friendship, There are smother ways  
To show an unmolested courtesy,  
And we might love at ease.   The. 

Though I am glad  
At these good tidings; yet I cannot choose  
But grieve you envy them: I hope you will not  
Accuse my friendship as it were a burden.   Lys. 

Then let my tongue be blasted. But how e'er  
'Tis in thy power to give a greater ease.  
As drop reg've known men strong and healthful, yet  
Admit of physic, though I dare not say  
I'm sick, yet certainly I should appear  
More vigorous if thou wouldst cease to love  
Ethusa.   The. 

If a friends breath can poison,  
There is a hot infection now taints thine.   Lys. 

Be not yet too rash: you've called me friend,  
And would you then grow strong out of my ruins?   The. 
Heavens forbid!  Lys. 

Then see the Labyrinth in which I tread,  
I woo Panareta in this disguise,  
Only to win her Sister to your love:  
Whilst thus I sue, that great Man Philonax  
Bends his Devotion towards my goddess,  
And is my dangerous Rival in your Sister,  
Now if you'd free me from this Vizard love,  
Then were my Artemone free from him,  
Who then would seize on fair Panareta,  
From whom 'tis only my pretence hath barred him.   The. 

And would you have me then not love Ethusa?  
'Twas but a vain request, while my best Faith  
Was answered with the violence of scorn:  
But now being strengthened with a mutual Love  
What fury can remove it?   Lys. 

How I'm made up  
Only of wavering! I must not see  
A Friend thus plunged whilst I within my Power  
Can grasp the Remedy. Know then, friend Theocles,  
Though through my own misfortune I'll maintain  
Thy happiness in its due height, methinks  
If Love to her must breed neglect to thee▪  
I now could cancel Artemones vows.   The. 

O ye wonder of what was e'er styled friendship!  
It were my Heaven if that thy Love to her  
Did not make faint, and cool Ethusa's heat,  
What now is warmth might burn into a flame,  
If thou couldst truly love Panareta.   Lys. 

I can, and shall not henceforth act thy love,  
Nor woo as proxy longer. I'll not be  
Only a bare naked Interpreter,  
Nor spend my Suit in a third person more,  
I will profess my own vows, and implore  
A medicine which may cure a malady  
festering within this breast: I see her love  
Settled, and though affronted with neglect,  
Unshaken still; I meet no obstacles,  
No threatening Father, nor too covetous Uncle,  
The Reins are in her own hands; she enjoys  
A full command over herself, but that  
Sh'hath given the power to me.   The. 

Being thus confirmed,  
I'll rip my breast afore thee, and uncase  
A secret which till now I durst not utter.   Lys. 

A Secret! Heavens, how have I lost my Faith,  
That aught between us two should be concealed?  
I thought till now thy breast was made of glass,  
And lay as open to my curious view,  
As that Face doth.   The. 

Call back thy former temper,  
When you've heard more, you may perhaps confess  
I ought to hide it.   Lys. 

Prithee then quickly speak,  
That I may be thy Friend again: for sure  
That name is lost whiles there remains a Secret.   The. 

Then since thou lovest Panareta, know my Sister  
Believes as much, and first hath cast thee off,  
It was my Plot( pardon good Lysander,  
Only that one word which ere yet stained my Friendship)  
I worked her into this suspicion,  
Told her she was forsaken, and Panareta  
Become her Rival; then she left thee too.  
Thus neither guilty, you have both cast off  
Each other first; my end in this contrivance  
Was to new plant thy Love, and make it firm  
Where 'twas but counterfeit, that I might thus  
Sooner Enjoy Ethusa.   Lys. 

Have you now  
Vented your secret, is it quite out?   The. 

It is,  
But I could wish that it were closed up still  
Within the private Cabin of my breast,  
Your frown hath made me thus unloyal.   Lys. 

Sure  
'Twas not well done then to be treacherous,  
When I my best faith and my falsehood too  
Bestowed upon thy safety— But I'm grown  
Too calm: If I should now consider Thee  
In thy first love, that thou wert once a friend,  
This were to season madness with Discretion;  
And I should rave with judgement: balance all  
Thy better deeds with this one Injury,  
They cannot weigh down my Revenge: then draw,  
That I may cut thee and thy false love off  
From any Title to my wounded heart.   The. 

Sheath up your Sword and anger; let not thus  
Your passion rule, that you may after say  
Y'ave lost a friend.   Lys. 
Base villain draw.  The. 

If you're so rash not to consider me,  
At least remember your own spotless honour,  
The nobleness with which you heretofore  
Were wont to fight, would scorn to take advantage,  
Know then your challenge aims at one that is  
Already wounded; your severer tongue  
Worse than the fiercest rage your Sword can bring,  
Hath almost slain me.   Lys. 

Fie, do not thus increase  
The wrong thoust done me; let me not be forced  
To kill the yielding; for my own fame's sake  
At least do one good deed, and to redeem  
The scandal which thus brands my Innocence,  
Die with thy sword in hand.   The. 

Ify'are resolved  
Upon my death, inflict it; be it ne'er said,  
( What ever the disgrace my tongue hath done)  
I took up arms against my friend.   Lys. 

I'll tear  
That Name from thy false throat; to be thy friend  
Is to be treacherous, a Sin which yet  
Could never reach Lysander; which my sword  
( A name to me almost as dear as faith)  
Shall thus maintain.   The. 

Then since I needs must draw,  
'Tis with thy hand I do it.   Lys. 

Take my thanks  
Yet for this latest courtesy.   They fight. Theo. wound.  

SCEN. 6.  To them Melesip. Diarchus. Philonax. Artem. Hypera. MEl. 
O my son Theocles!  Art. 

O my Brother, my  
Dear Brother.   Diar. 
What sadness do we see? where is the Author?  Phi. 
Here, 'tis base Lysander.  Mel. 
You Artemone take care of Theocles; see the best Surgeons be quickly sent for.  The. 
Be not thus tender, 'tis but a scratch h'hath given me.  Exe. The. Art. Hyp. Mel. 

O false Lysander! canst thou pretend love  
Born to our family, and yet thus wrong  
The best part of it?   Diar. 

Brother, you're too mild,  
'Tis not discourse, but law must right us.   Phi. 

Let us strait tear a Satisfaction  
Out of his Inmost bowels.   Mel. 

Noble Sir,  
We must not heal one quarrel with a new one,  
Here's too much blood already.   Lys. 

I have not thus  
Stood silent, that I might with leisure frame  
Some Innocent Apology; drop reg've heard  
And seen your griefs, which I myself have born:  
Th' Amazement which is stuck in all your brows,  
Is fixed within my heart too, this same hand  
Wonders as much at what is done as you,  
And I can scarce believe 'twas I that did it:  
Let Melesippus and Diarchus know  
I pity their misfortune as my own.   Diar. 

But pray Sir let's know what reason was't  
That raised this Tumult.   Mel. 

You were wont to join  
In close Embraces of another kind.  
What should thus change your greeting?   Lys. 
Some few rash words too bad to be rehearsed.  Diar. 
'Tis now past hiding, you must show the cause To us, or to the rack.  Lys. 
I cannot utter it.  Mel. 

Lead on then, we must put you in the charge  
Of a strong guard if the wound be dangerous.   Exe. Omnes.  
The end of the fourth Act.   

ACT. 5.  

SCEN. 1.  Theocles. Artemone. Hyperia. Art. 

I Would you had still kept the cause unknown  
Of this your fatal Combat, sure I am,  
'Thas bred a Mutiny within my soul,  
Scattered Seditious wars through all my thoughts.  
O Brother! you have made me break a faith  
Firm as the Rock of Diamonds, and as precious▪  
I must confess continual waves of Fear  
And jealousy much dashed it, and endeavoured  
At least to overwhelm that which they could not  
Shake from its firmer station; yet it stood  
Unmoved, though not discovered. O Lysander!  
What will thy Innocence conceive, when Thou  
Shalt find my heart thus altered, and my Faith,  
( My Faith once given to Thee) plight to another,  
To Philonax thy Enemy, and owe all this  
Unto thy Friend, my Brother? yet I know  
His softer Disposition cannot choose  
But pardon, and still love you, call you still  
His hearty, constant, loving— traitorous Friend,  
And thus embrace you.  Closing with Theocles, she draws out his poniard, offering to stab him, but is hindered by Hyperia.  Hyp. 
Hold Madam, what's your meaning?  The. 

Hyperia, thou didst but ill to hinder  
The wholesome wound, I have much blood still left me  
Might well be spared, much bad corrupted blood  
Which hath infected, more than filled my veins,  
That blood which prompted my unwilling thoughts  
To value my desires above my Faith;  
Would it were all exhausted, save so much  
As might preserve a Blush for my past Folly.  
Come beloved Enemy, unrip my bosom,  
You need not wound my heart, for that already  
Bleeds a Repentance in a shower of tears,  
Which like so many purpled Magistrates  
Pass Sentence on my Guilty thoughts.   Art. 

Oh Sir,  
Y'ave quite o'ercome my rage by this unfeigned,  
This powerful Repentance, your hearty tears  
Have quite extinguished all my Flames of Anger:  
I now begin again to be your Sister,  
Yet I could wish your thoughts had been unspoken,  
I would this had not happened.   weeps. The. 

Think not my Speech,  
When first I did accuse your true Lysander,  
Uttered the least Intention of my Thoughts:  
My words did then as much belie my knowledge  
As his unmoved loyalty. Alas,  
My own love tempted me to betray his,   Art. 

That again blows my zealous rage. I would  
He had been false indeed,( pardon Lysander)  
Would he had broke his promise: but that he  
Should then preserve so true, so strict a faith,  
When credulous I upon a bare report,  
Nay not so much but one man's single word  
Should cancel all my vows: And yet it was  
My brother's word, the friendly, virtuous Theocles.  
For heaven's sake take your poniard, and prevent  
All outrage that my passion may suggest.   The. 

Nay do your pleasure, here I stand that would  
Most willingly now fall a Sacrifice  
To your offended goodness. Surely when  
This cottage of my soul shall fall to earth  
Crumbling to dust, your Fury will like that  
Be blown away; when you shall find me ashes,  
And think me made so by your Flames of Anger,  
You will forgive me, nay will you not? pray speak.   Art. 

Sorrow thou comest too thick upon me, and  
My oppressed Soul sinks under the vast burden.—    

SCEN. 2.  To them Lysander. 

— O Brother hide me from that Deity  
That is so much offended; I dare now  
Not look on any thing that is not false  
And like myself. And yet for aught I know,  
There's unexpected mercy. I have heard  
That Noble power does as oft appear  
In lenity as just Revenge. O Sir,  
If your breast harbour pity for that wretch  
That could find none for you, here you may use it:  
And this in all my misery shall be  
The seasoning comfort that I shall supply  
The object where you may employ a virtue.   Lys. 
Fairest, those knees were never meant to bow But to the Gods that made 'em.  Art. 

Sir, let this Excuse  
My former stiffness: I have broke my vows,  
And given away my Faith, as if you first  
By a recanting falsehood had provoked it;  
But heaven knows you are true, and I as black  
As sin can make me: yet methinks mistake  
Might somewhat mollify the Censure of  
My giddy passion. No, it was enough  
That I could think aught true that might impair  
Your virtuous Constancy.   Lys. 

I pray correct  
Your erring thoughts, for I was false indeed,  
And hither came for pardon.   Art. 

O the vastness  
Of faithful love! undo me not I pray  
By that Immensity of Favours, which  
'Twill be impossible e'er to deserve.  
That love should force a Man t'accuse himself!  
And lest I might well think I had done basely  
Thus to pretend a falsehood. Come, I shall  
Sooner suspect the sprightly fire should  
Forget its natural wings, leave to mount upward,  
And creep upon the sordid earth, than once  
Your pure and elevated Thoughts could flag,  
Or that your Faith could know so low an ebb  
As to think foully. O Sir, I am another's,  
And cannot now bestow myself upon you,  
Nor disengage myself from all that load  
Of kindness you have heaped upon me, but thus—   offers to stab. Lys. 

Hold Lady, hear me out, and you will find  
I'm not the man for whom you ought to die.  
Know to my shame I speak it, I was false,  
Nay truly false. My faith was counterfeit,  
But not the breach of it: and that you may  
Know so much to yourself, hither I come  
First t'implore a pardon, then desire  
That you would render back my vows unto me,  
Forget that e'er you loved me, or I you.  
And if the least Desert of mine remain  
In your fair breast, that still might prompt Affection,  
Tear it away; for I have blasted all  
My former merits by this Act of baseness.   Art. 

How I embrace that falsehood! O it joys me  
( As now my fortune stands) more than all Faith,  
All love could ever. And I would fain know  
The happy reason that first moved you to it.   Lys. 

Madam, when first I had the licence from you  
To court Panareta, I was all your own,  
Yet somewhat doubtful through the Jealous fears,  
Chiefly through that old hate your friends bore to me,  
To which being added that fair Carriage, which  
Panareta always studied, quite o'ercome  
My dallying thoughts, and turned them at length  
To a true dotage. O she would often sit  
And breathe a cloud of sighs, tell me how much  
I should abuse a credulous virgin, if  
I did but personate that love I made.  
How if I did enjoy another Mistress,  
Her Ghost( for sure she could not well outlive it)  
Would fright my soul from this my body to her:  
O she would cast such powerful glances on me,  
Such charming Spirits danced in the bright rays  
Of every view; They did draw up my soul,  
And chained it fast to hers. Thus the fond Lark  
Playing about the glittering snare does tempt  
The Nets, and dares its prison, till at length  
He finds his Liberty betrayed, and all  
That pomp of brightness, but a glorious bait.   The. 

Methinks in all the story you've forget  
The principal main business, my Obligement,  
The Cause of all these Troubles; yet I hope  
You did it not in that neglected way  
As to forget it strait: why tell you not  
How you may thank your Friend for these Disasters?  
How faithless Theocles wrought all this woe?  
And to Reward you, studied to betray you.   Lys. 

O Friend! the rough behaviour I last used  
Hath wiped off all your score; you now stand bound  
To me for nothing: nay you shall oblige me  
If you will sign my pardon, for which merit  
I hope I shall e'er some few minutes pass,  
Make and pronounce you happy in your love.   The. 

Your goodness still o'ercomes us, and your Favours  
Flow in so high a strain they seem to scorn  
All competition of Desert or Thanks.    

SCEN. 3.  To them Melesippus. Diarchus. Philonax. Panareta. Ethusa. Mel. 

COme Lovers to the Temple, you were best  
Make all the Speed you can when once agreed:  
There are so many tricks in love, I should  
Never believe I had my wench until  
The Ceremonies were all quite performed.   Diar. 

And therefore we think fit my Lord, if you  
Can in your judgement count it so, to pass  
All Ceremonious pomp.   Phi. 

I'm yours,  
And only do demand my Love here would  
Make but a Repetition of the vows  
Which formerly have past between us two.  
'Tis but to satisfy this Lady here,  
Who otherwise requires my love.   Art. 

Nay sure  
They are all registered in heaven ere this,  
And only want that approbation which  
The Church must soon allow.   Phi. 

And therefore Madam,  
I here disclaim all right and title to you,  
Panareta, come, you see I have performed  
Your strict Injunction; I have wooed her so,  
That you can witness now she disclaims  
All other interest.   Art. 

Now bless me heaven!  
Shall I for ever be deluded?   Phi. 

Oh!  
It cuts my very heartstrings thus t'abuse  
So fair a goodness: were I well quit here,  
I could recant and claim her love again.   Mel. 
Sir, are you mad?  Dia. 
What mean you Lady?  Pan. 

Sir, I shall study to deserve this favour, to Phil.  
But cannot now bestow myself upon you,  
And therefore Madam here I deliver  
What lawfully aught to be yours.   gives Philo. to art. Lys. 

What strange  
Mysterious clouds are these? Fair Mistress let us to Pan.  
Not wander on in darkness still, I pray  
What means this mad confusion?   Pan. 

Philonax,  
I must confess you first did woo my love.  
And court my thoughts, but still they were reserved  
Unto this noble Gentleman; yet still  
Finding him backward, in respect he had  
Before expressed some love to Artemone,  
I know no other means to disengage him,  
But this by sending you to court his Mistress,  
Which you were willing then to undertake,  
To please me in a Revenge I feigned,  
And finding to my wish such vows between you  
Not fit to be revoked, I much congratulate  
Your happy suit. And now Lysander, being  
You have here had experience how free  
You are from all this Lady can claim from you,  
I thus perform my promise unto Theocles, gives him Ethu.  
And therefore challenge yours.   Lys. 

You cannot Madam  
More fully crown my wishes, and I hope  
Content dwells smooth on every brow.   Eth. 

Sir I hope you'll pardon  
All roughness that I heretofore have used,  
It was but personated; now I freely  
Do speak myself and my own thoughts, when I  
Do say you are the man I only Love,   The. 

I am  
So quite distracted with my happiness,  
I know not well to whom I owe it, and  
Therefore defer my thanks.   Art. 

Nay Sir,  
I hope you do not still repent you,  
Why look you so disturbed in your thoughts?   Phi. 

I am studying what great merit I might do  
To win your pardon Lady.   Art. 
Sir you have it.  Phi. 

I now  
Begin to be awake my Artemone,  
I find I have but dreamt all this while,  
Now I can see your merit, and discern  
Your real virtues much outbalance all  
My vaunted Glories, and I here shake off  
That personated pride I first took on me.  
Merely to keep myself from such a blessing,  
Which now I do account above the World,  
Your Love; which I will study to deserve  
By all the courteous humble Carriage  
That crown a Genial bed.   Art. 

O Sir, you have  
Redeemed my desperate thoughts by this discovery,  
I ever loved you much, but yet I could not  
Persuade myself to think your pride a virtue,  
Which being thus shook off I do esteem you  
Of more than human worth.   To them a Servant. Ser. 
Here are some Gentlemen without desire admittance to Madam Ethusa.  Eth. 
Bid the Trifles begone, I am now too serious.  Mel. 
O by no means, pray Lady let 'em enter.  Dia. 
If they bring mirth they'll do well to season our past fears.  Eth. 
If they perform my Injunction, we shall have very good sport: one of 'em is Pisistratus the quarrelling fighter by my command turned Poet, and tother my rhyming Gentleman Lamprias thrust into his humour: pray interpose not, but let me have▪ my will.   

SCEN. 4.  To them, Pisistratus with a boy before him bearing a laurel, Lamprias in some Knight-like attire ushered by his Squire bearing a shield and Lance, Miserotos. Pisistratus takes his laurel and makes towards Ethusa. Eth. 

What have we here a prize? How now my Poet,  
What's the news with you?   Pis. 

Madam see here the power of your love,  
Out of my proper sphere it makes me move.  
I who whilom like warrior thundered wildly,  
Am melted to a Poet, and now speak mildly.   Eth. 
Most mildly delivered, sure you have spoke a speech in a Pageant: but where's your Sonnet? have you brought me no papers of verses?  Pis. 

In sign I versify by your command,  
This to your feet I offer; these to your hand.   Laying his bays at her feet, offering his verses. Eth. 
Let your boy sing 'em.—  

Song.  
Two-topped Parnassus I defy,  
But that your swelling breasts supply,  
If every Poet there mightly,  
O who could choose but versify!  
A quill that's snatched from Cupid's wing in spite  
Of inbred Nature will compel to write.  
Then for a Helicon I know  
A purer far your lips do show,  
What in your Cheeks before was snow,  
Melted to Nectar there doth flow.  
I can outvie Phoebus, whiles I enjoy  
A Daphne far more fair than his was coy.   
— Very well, let me see 'em.  She reads. 
Two-topped Parnassus I defy,  
But that your swelling breasts supply.  
That I may know these are your own making, tell me what is Parnassus. Mis. She'll put him out of his way and spoil his rhyming.  Lamp. prompts. The poet's Mountain. Pis. 

Fair Lady to give you an answer plain,  
As I have heard some say, it was the poet's mountain.   Mis. 
Now he is forced to rhyme of himself, mark how he hacks the King's language.  Eth. 
Well, and what can you say of Helicon?  Lam. prompts, The muse's spring. Pis. 

By Bellona Madam, the truth to tell ye,  
The muse's spring heretofore was called Heli— Con by the Poets.   Eth. 

Well Sir. ( reads) 
I can outvie Phoebus, whiles I enjoy  
A Daphne far more fair than his was coy.   
I pray Sir what Relation had Daphne to Phoebus?   Pis. 
She was— she was— what, what?  jogging him. Lamp. prompts. His Mistress turned to laurel. Pis. 
She was his Mistress not turned— not turned—  Eth. 
Yes Sir, she was turned, but to what?  Pis. 

Now I have't) She was Phoebus' Mistress not turned to rue or sorrel,  
But metamorphosed into a laurel.   Eth. 
I see this sudden rhyming doth somewhat perplex you; but I find by your written verses which you have studied, That upon mature deliberation you write very well, and are like to make a hopeful Poet. Well, so much for you: Now my brave Knight let's hear you rant it.  Pis. 
I think I came off with credit: but she put me shrewdly to it at last, I had no rhymes provided for such answers.  Lamp. having stalked about, talks in his amorous tone. 
Through many craggy cliffs of Mountains high and mighty, have I by the robustuous nerves of these brawny arms sought out Bellonian Encounters, to testify th'affection I have conceived to the fairest of fairs, Ethusa; In whose defence I here stand up a Champion, and defy all Bradamants, all Knights of the burning pestle; by the dreadful thunder of my tearing throat I will astonish and confound them; by the Aetnean flashes which my baiting enraged blood shall evaporate, I will wrap them in flakes of lightning, or by the Boreasian Tempest of my most strenuous breath shake in pieces their limbs, and sweep their scattered relics into the Sea-like Dust.  Eth. 
Most prodigiously valiant. Sir, your voice methinks is much changed since last I saw you; you then spoke in a mild amorous key, but now you do so thunder-thump it, heavens! how it pierced my ears? but yet all this does not confirm me that you are valiant, I should desire some better testimony of your valour then this speech only.  Lam. 
Shall I then cut this traitorous giant's head off, and laying it at my feet( with a Non Curo for my Motto) look like the man that does contemn the world, and plays at football with the Globes of Earth. Worm I will trample on Thee.  Kicks and beats Pisis. Pis. 
Hold, or I swear ere thou shalt have the higher hand▪ I'll rhyme thee to death as they do rats in Ireland.— Not so hard you Rascal.  privately Eth. 
Most killing verses I promise you. Hold, this is pretty well▪ but I do not believe, but if I gave him Commission, he would return your blows with some advantage.( I doubt there's some conspiracy betwixt 'em. I'll sift 'em strait) I think I must choose Piststratus, for I like him as well for a Poet, and better than you for a soldier.  Lam. 
she'll choose him now, and then have I played the fool all this while to very great purpose. I must prevent it. Lady, and if you please to breathe a vigour into my nerves by your command, I'll beat this Coward, till he shall utterly disclaim all title to your favours.  Pis. 
( privately) That's more than I promised Sirrah: take heed you vaunt not too much.  Eth. 
Nay that's unequal, you being armed, and he having no offensive weapon but his tongue: He shall have another Sword, and then the conqueror shall not fear a Rival. What say you, will you agree to that?  Lam. 
Madam, I must confess although I kick him here or so, there have such bonds of Friendship knit us together heretofore, that now they tie my hands from drawing his blood. I would not fight with my Friend.  Eth. 
How say you Sir? are your hands tied too by the bonds of Friendship? would not you accept the motion?  Pis. 

Madam my love to you so firmly tied is,  
That for your sake I would not fear to fight with Alcides.   Eth. 
See you that Sir, he'll venture if you dare.  Lam. 
Why Pisistratus, Friend Pisistratus, pri thee refuse it; I tell thee I will by no means fight with my Friend.  Eth. 
Nay Sir, you see you've cast yourself: he hath made me here very good verses, and then he is very valiant: I must choose him for—  Lam. 
Hold Lady, pray you forbear; suspend your choice a while, and I believe I shall prevent it when I have told you all. Know then, he is no Poet, I made those verses, this brain is the mint that coined 'em.  Pis. 
Which I will trample under my feet you Rascal, can you not keep conditions? Nay seeing you have discovered. Lady, see here his fortitude, 'tis only passive, he dares not advance a Sword against a mouse. I in charity, that he might hereafter appear in some credit, lent him my back for a while to use it as he pleased, but if you did observe, he struck me very heedfully, he durst not let his arms flee with a free swing thus, nor went his feet without discretion, as if they kicked in earnest.  Mis. 
Hold Sir, you'll kill the Gentleman; pray Lady end the strife.  Eth. 
Then thus my Friends; neither of you can challenge any reward from me, neither having performed my Injunctions: however I will not be so severe as to detain the guerdon I always intended, and you have taken such pains for: you shall be laughed at.  Mis. 
Come, come, I told you at first what you might expect, ne'er stand to reply for fear of being worse abused.  Ex. Pis. Lam. Mis. Lys. 
Lady, these Trifles being gone, let us proceed to the Consummation of your joys. I am glad yet you used Theocles better.  Eth. 
Nay Sir, I can easily distinguish betwixt realities and outsides.  The. 
Madam I thank your good opinion, and will study to continue it. Come forward to the Temple.  Phi. Art. 
That is our general voice, pray Sir, lead on.  Mel. 
Why this is well, I thought 'twould come about at last.  Dia. 

Now Joy unto you all: Lysander, Friends, and that  
I may comply with your now smiling Fate,  
At these your weddings, I divorce my hate.     
FINIS.