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Actus Secundus. Scena Prima
Enter Memnon aloneMem. 'Tis but to dye, Dogs do it, Ducks with dabling,Birds sing away their Souls, & Babies sleep 'em,Why do I talk of that is treble vantage?For in the other World she is bound to have me;Her Princely word is past: my great desert tooWill draw her to come after presently,'Tis justice, and the gods must see it done too.Besides, no Brother, Father, Kindred thereCan hinder us, all languages are alike too.There love is everlasting, ever young,Free from Diseases, ages, jealousies,Bawds, Beldames, Painters, Purgers: dye? 'tis nothing,Men drown themselves for joy to draw in JulepsWhen they are hot with Wine: In dreams we do it.And many a handsom Wench that loves the sport well,Gives up her Soul so in her Lovers bosome;But I must be incis'd first, cut and open'd,My heart, and handsomely, ta'n from me; stay there,Dead once, stay, let me think again, who do I know there?For else to wander up and down unwaited onAnd unregarded in my place and project,Is for a Sowters Soul, not an old Souldiers.My brave old Regiments – I there it goes,That have been kill'd before me, right. — Enter ChilaxChil. He's here, and I must trouble him.Mem. Then those I have conquer'dTo make my train full.Chi. Sir.Mem. My Captains then —Chi. Sir, I beseech ye.Mem. For to meet her thereBeing a Princess and a Kings sole SisterWith great accommodation must be cared for.Chi. Weigh but the Souldiers poverty.Mem. Mine own Troop firstFor they shall die.Chi. How, what's this?Mem. Next —Chi. Shall I speak louder, Sir?Mem. A square Battalia —Chi. You do not think of us.Mem. Their Armours gilded —Chi. Good noble Sir.Mem. And round about such EnginesShall make Hell shake.Chi. Ye do not mock me.Mem. For, Sir,I will be strong, as brave —Chi. Ye may consider,You know we have serv'd you long enough.Mem. No SouldierThat ever landed on the blest ElyziumDid or shall march, as I will.Chi. Would ye would march, Sir,Up to the King and get us —Mem. King nor KeiserShall equal me in that world.Chi. What a Devil ails he?Mem. Next, the rare beauties of those Towns I fir'd.Chi. I speak of money, Sir.Mem. Ten thousand Coaches —Chi. O pounds, Sir, pounds I beseech your Lordship,Let Coaches run out of your remembrance.Mem. In which the wanton Cupids, and the GracesDrawn with the Western winds kindling desires,And then our Poets —Chi. Then our pay.Mem. For Chilax when the triumph comes; the PrincessThen, for I will have a Heaven made —Chi. Bless your Lordship!Stand still, Sir.Mem. So I do, and in it —Chi. Death Sir,You talk you know not what.Mem. Such rare devices:Make me I say a Heaven.Chi. I say so too, Sir.Mem. For here shall run a Constellation.Chi. And there a pissing Conduit.Mem. Ha!Chi. With wine, Sir.Mem. A Sun there in his height, there such a Planet.Chi. But where's our money, where runs that?Mem. Ha?Chi. Money,Money an't like your Lordship.Mem. Why all the carriage shall come behind, the stuff,Rich hangings, treasure;Or say we have none.Chi. I may say so truly,For hang me if I have a Groat: I have serv'd wellAnd like an honest man: I see no reason —Mem. Thou must needs die good Chilax.Chi. Very well, Sir.Mem. I will have honest, valiant souls about me,I cannot miss thee.Chi. Dye?Mem. Yes die, and Pelius,Eumenes and Polybius: I shall thinkOf more within these two hours.Chi. Dye Sir?Mem. I, Sir,And ye shall dye.Chi. When, I beseech your Lordship?Mem. To morrow see ye do dye.C[h]i. A short warning,Troth, Sir, I am ill prepar'd.Mem. I dye my self then,Beside there's reason —Chi. Oh!Mem. I pray thee tell me,For thou art a great Dreamer.Chi. I can dream, Sir,If I eat well and sleep well.Mem. Was it neverBy Dream or Apparition open'd to thee —Chi. He's mad.Mem. What the other world was, or Elyzium?Didst never travel in thy sleep?Chi. To Taverns,When I was drunk o're night; or to a Wench,There's an Elyzium for ye, a young LadyWrapt round about ye like a Snake: is that it?Or if that strange Elyzium that you talk ofBe where the Devil is, I have dream't of him,And that I have had him by the horns, and rid him,He trots the Dagger out o'th' sheath.Mem. Elyzium,The blessed fields man.Chi. I know no fields blessed, but those I have gain'd by.I have dream't I have been in Heaven too.Mem. There, handle that place; that's Elyzium.Chi. Brave singing, and brave dancing,And rare things.Mem. All full of flowers.Chi. And Pot-herbs.Mem. Bowers for lovers,And everlasting ages of delight.Chi. I slept not so far.Mem. Meet me on those banksSome two days hence.Chi. In Dream, Sir?Mem. No in death, Sir.And there I Muster all, and pay the Souldier.Away, no more, no more.Chi. God keep your Lordship:This is fine dancing for us. Enter SiphaxSi. Where's the General?Chi. There's the old sign of Memnon, where the soul isYou may go look as I have.Si. What's the matter?Chi. Why question him and see; he talks of Devils,Hells, Heavens, Princes, Powers, and Potentates,You must to th' pot too.Si. How?Chi. Do you know Elyzium? a tale he talks the Wild-goose chase of.Si. Elyzium? I have read of such a place.Chi. Then get ye to him,Ye are as fine company as can be fitted. [Exit Chilax.Your Worships fairly met.Si. Mercy upon us,What ails this Gentleman?Mem. Provision —Si. How his head works!Mem. Between two Ribbs,If he cut short or mangle me; I'le take himAnd twirle his neck about.Si. Now Gods defend us.Mem. In a pure Cup transparent, with a writingTo signifie —Si. I never knew him thus:Sure he's bewitch'd, or poyson'd.Mem. Who's there?Si. I Sir.Mem. Come hither, Siphax.Si. Yes, how does your Lordship?Mem. Well, God a mercy Souldier, very well,But prithee tell me —Si. Any thing I can, Sir.Mem. What durst thou do to gain the rarest BeautyThe World has?Si. That the World has? 'tis worth doing.Mem. Is it so; but what doing bears it?Si. Why! any thing; all danger it appears to.Mem. Name some of those things: do.Si. I would undertake, Sir,A Voyage round about the World.Mem. Short, Siphax.A Merchant does it to spice pots of Ale.Si. I wou'd swim in Armour.Mem. Short still; a poor JadeLoaden will take a stream and stem it stronglyTo leap a Mare.Si. The plague, I durst.Mem. Still shorter,I'll cure it with an Onion.Si. Surfeits.Mem. Short still:They are often Physicks for our healths, and help us.Si. I wou'd stand a breach.Mem. Thine honour bids thee, Souldier:'Tis shame to find a second cause.Si. I durst, Sir,Fight with the fellest Monster.Mem. That's the poorest,Man was ordain'd their Master; durst ye dye, Sir?Si. How? dye my Lord!Mem. Dye Siphax; take thy Sword,And come by that door to her; there's a priceTo buy a lusty love at.Si. I am content, Sir,To prove no Purchaser.Mem. Away thou World-worm,Thou win a matchless Beauty?Si. 'Tis to lose't Sir,For being dead, where's the reward I reach at?The love I labour for?Mem. There it begins Fool,Thou art meerly cozen'd; for the loves we now knowAre but the heats of half an hour; and hatedDesires stir'd up by nature to encrease her;Licking of one another to a lust;Course and base appetites, earths meer inheritoursAnd Heirs of Idleness and blood; Pure Love,That, that the soul affects, and cannot purchaseWhile she is loaden with our flesh, that Love, Sir,Which is the price of honour, dwells not here,Your Ladies eyes are lampless to that Vertue,That beauty smiles not on a cheek washt over,Nor scents the sweet of Ambers; below, SiphaxBelow us, in the other World Elyzium,Where's no more dying, no despairing, mourning,Where all desires are full, desarts down loaden,There Siphax, there, where loves are ever living.Si. Why do we love in this World then?Mem. To preserve it,The maker lost his work else; but mark Siphax,What issues that love bears.Si. Why Children, Sir.I never heard him talk thus; thus divinelyAnd sensible before.Mem. It does so, Siphax,Things like our selves, as sensual, vain, unventedBubbles, and breaths of air, got with an itchingAs blisters are, and bred, as much corruptionFlows from their lives, sorrow conceives and shapes 'em,And oftentimes the death of those we love most.The breeders bring them to the World to curse 'em,Crying they creep amongst us like young Cats.Cares and continual Crosses keeping with 'em,They make Time old to tend them, and experienceAn ass, they alter so; they grow and goodly,Ere we can turn our thoughts, like drops of waterThey fall into the main, are known no more;This is the love of this World; I must tell theeFor thou art understanding.Si. What you please, Sir.Mem. And as a faithful man:Nay I dare trust thee,I love the Princess.Si. There 'tis, that has fired him,I knew he had some inspiration.But does she know it, Sir?Mem. Yes marry does she,I have given my heart unto her.Si. If ye love her.Mem. Nay, understand me, my heart taken from me,Out of my Body, man, and so brought to her.How lik'st thou that brave offer? there's the loveI told thee of; and after death, the living;She must in justice come Boy, ha?Si. Your heart, Sir?Mem. I, so by all means, Siphax.Si. He loves roast wellThat eats the Spit.Mem. And since thou art come thus fitly,I'll do it presently and thou shalt carry it,For thou canst tell a story and describe it.And I conjure thee, Siphax, by thy gentry,Next by the glorious Battels we have fought in,By all the dangers, wounds, heats, colds, distresses,Thy love next, and obedience, nay thy life.Si. But one thing, first, Sir, if she pleas'd to grant it,Could ye not love her here and live? consider.Mem. Ha? Yes, I think I could.Si. 'Twould be far nearer,Besides the sweets here would induce the last loveAnd link it in.Mem. Thou sayest right, but our ranks hereAnd bloods are bars between us, she must stand off tooAs I perceive she does.Si. Desert and DutyMakes even all, Sir.Mem. Then the King, though IHave merited as much as man can, must not let her,So many Princes covetous of her beauty;I wou'd with all my heart, but 'tis impossible.Si. Why, say she marry after.Mem. No, she dares not;The gods dare not do ill; come.Si. Do you mean it?Mem. Lend me thy knife, and help me off.Si. For heaven sake,Be not so stupid mad, dear General.Mem. Dispatch, I say.Si. As ye love that ye look for,Heaven and the blessed life.Mem. Hell take thee, Coxcomb,Why dost thou keep me from it? thy knife I say.Si. Do but this one thing, on my knees I beg it,Stay but two hours till I return again.For I will to her, tell her all your merits,Your most unvalu'd love, and last your danger;If she relent, then live still, and live loving,Happy, and high in favour: if she frown —Mem. Shall I be sure to know it?Si. As I live, Sir,My quick return shall either bring ye fortune,Or leave you to your own fate.Mem. Two hours?Si. Yes, Sir.Mem. Let it be kept, away, I will expect it. [Ex. Mem. Si. Enter Chilax, Fool and BoyChi. You dainty wits! two of ye to a Cater,To cheat him of a dinner?Boy. Ten at Court, Sir,Are few enough, they are as wise as we are.Chi. Hang ye, I'le eat at any time, and any where,I never make that part of want, preach to meWhat ye can do, and when ye list.Fool. Your patience,'Tis a hard day at Court, a fish day.Chi. So it seems, Sir,The fins grow out of thy face.Fool. And to purchaseThis day the company of one dear Custard,Or a mess of Rice ap Thomas, needs a main wit;Beef we can bear before us lined with BrewesAnd tubs of Pork; vociferating Veals,And Tongues that ne're told lye yet.Chi. Line thy mouth with 'em.Fool. Thou hast need, and great need,For these finny fish-dayes,The Officers understandings are so flegmatick,They cannot apprehend us.Chi. That's great pity,For you deserve it, and being apprehendedThe whip to boot; Boy what do you so near me?I dare not trust your touch Boy. Enter Stremon and his BoyBoy. As I am vertuous,What, thieves amongst our selves?Chi. Stremon.Stre. Lieutenant.Chi. Welcome a shore, a shore.Fool. What Mounsieur Musick?Stre. My fine Fool.Boy. Fellow Crack, why what a consortAre we now blest withal?Fool. Fooling and fidling,Nay and we live not now boys; what new songs, Sirra?Stre. A thousand, man, a thousand.Fool. Itching AirsAlluding to the old sport.Stre. Of all sizes.Fool. And how does small Tym Treble here; the heart on't?2 Boy. To do you service.Fool. O Tym the times, the times Tym.Stre. How does the General,And next what money's stirring?Chi. For the GeneralHe's here, but such a General!The time's chang'd, Stremon,He was the liberal General, and the loving,The feeder of a Souldier, and the Father,But now become the stupid'st.Stre. Why, what ails he?Chi. Nay, if a Horse knew, and his head's big enough,I'le hang for't; did'st thou ever see a DogRun mad o'th' tooth-ache, such another toyIs he now, so he glotes and grins, and bites.Fool. Why hang him quickly,And then he cannot hurt folks.Chi. One hour raving,Another smiling, not a word the third hour,I tell thee Stremon h'as a stirring soul,What ever it attempts or labours atWould wear out twenty bodies in another.Fool. I'le keep it out of me, for mine's but Buckram,He would bownce that out in two hours.Chi. Then he talksThe strangest and the maddest stuff from reason,Or any thing ye offer; stand thou there,I'le show thee how he is, for I'le play MemnonThe strangest General that ere thou heardst of, Stremon.Stre. My Lord.Chi. Go presently and find meA black Horse with a blew tail; bid the blank CornetCharge through the Sea, and sink the Navy: softly,Our souls are things not to be waken'd in usWith larums, and loud bawlings, for in ElyziumStilness and quietness, and sweetness, Sirra,I will have, for it much concerns mine honour,Such a strong reputation for my welcomeAs all the world shall say: for in the forefrontSo many on white Unicorns, next themMy Gentlemen, my Cavaliers and Captains,Ten deep and trapt with Tenter-hooks to take holdOf all occasions: for Friday cannot fish outThe end I aim at; tell me of Diocles,And what he dares do? dare he meet me naked?Thunder in this hand? in his left – Fool —Fool. Yes, Sir.Chi. Fool, I would have thee fly i'th' Air, fly swiftlyTo that place where the Sun sets, there deliver.Fool. Deliver? what, Sir?Chi. This Sir, this ye slave, Sir, [All laugh.Death ye rude Rogues, ye Scarabe's.Fool. Hold for Heav'ns sake, Lieutenant, sweet Lieutenant.Chi. I have done, Sir.Boy. You have wrung his neck off.Chi. No Boy, 'tis the natureOf this strange passion when't hits to hale peopleAlong by th' hair, to kick 'em, break their heads.Fool. Do ye call this Acting, was your part to beat me?Chi. Yes, I must act all that he does.Fool. Plague act ye,I'le act no more.Stre. 'Tis but to shew man.Fool. Then manHe should have shew'd it only, and not done it,I am sure he beat me beyond Action,Gouts o' your heavy fist.Chi. I'le have thee to him,Thou hast a fine wit, fine fool, and canst play rarely.He'l hug thee, Boy, and stroke thee.Fool. I'le to the stocks first,E're I be strok't thus.Strem. But how came he, Chilax?Chi. I know not that.Strem. I'le to him.Chi. He loves thee well,And much delights to hear thee sing; much takenHe has been with thy battel songs.Stre. If MusickCan find his madness; I'le so fiddle him,That out it shall by th' shoulders.Chi. My fine Fidler,He'l firk you and ye take not heed too: 'twill be rare sportTo see his own trade triumph over him;His Lute lac'd to his head, for creeping hedges;For mony there's none stirring; try good StremonNow what your silver sound can do; our voicesAre but vain Echoes.Stre. Something shall be doneShall make him understand all; let's toth' Tavern,I have some few Crowns left yet: my whistle wet onceI'le pipe him such a Paven —Chi. Hold thy head up,I'le cure it with a quart of wine; come Coxcomb,Come Boy take heed of Napkins.Fool. Youl'd no more acting?Chi. No more Chicken.Fool. Go then. [Exeunt omnes. Enter Siphax at one door, and a Gentleman at the otherSi. God save you Sir; pray how might I see the Princess?Gent. Why very fitly, Sir, she's even now readyTo walk out this way intoth' Park; stand there,Ye cannot miss her sight, Sir.Si. I much thank ye. [Exit Gentleman. Enter Calis, Lucippe, and CleantheCal. Let's have a care, for I'le assure ye WenchesI wou'd not meet him willingly again;For though I do not fear him, yet his fashionI wou'd not be acquainted much with.Cle. Gentle Lady,Ye need not fear, the walks are view'd and empty,But me thinks, Madam, this kind heart of his —Lucip. He's slow a coming.Si. Keep me ye blest Angels,What killing power is this?Cal. Why, dost thou look for't?Dost think he spoke in earnest?Lucip. Methinks, Madam,A Gentleman should keep his word; and to a Lady,A Lady of your excellencies.Cal. Out Fool!Send me his heart? what should we do with't? dance it?Lucip. Dry it and drink it for the Worms.Cal. Who's that?What man stands there?Clean. Where?Cal. There.Cle. A Gentleman,Which I beseech your grace to honour so much,As know him for your servants Brother.Cal. Siphax?Cle. The same an't please your grace; what does he here?Upon what business? and I ignorant?Cal. He's grown a handsome Gentleman: good SiphaxY'are welcome from the Wars; wou'd ye with us, Sir?Pray speak your will: he blushes, be not fearfull,I can assure ye for your Sisters sake, Sir,There's my hand on it.Cle. Do you hear, Sir?Cal. Sure these SouldiersAre all grown senseless.Cle. Do ye know where ye are, Sir?Cal. Tongue-tyed,He looks not well too, by my life, I think —Cle. Speak for shame speak.Lucip. A man wou'd speak —Cal. These SouldiersAre all dumb Saints: consider and take time, Sir,Let's forward Wenches, come, his Palat's down.Luc. Dare these men charge i'th' face of fire and bullets?And hang their heads down at a handsome Woman?Good master Mars, that's a foul fault. [Ex. Prin. Lucippe.Cle. Fye beast,No more my Brother.Si. Sister, honoured Sister.Cle. Dishonoured fool.Si. I do confess.Cle. Fye on thee.Si. But stay till I deliver.Cle. Let me go,I am asham'd to own thee.Si. Fare ye well then,Ye must ne're see me more.Cle. Why stay dear Siphax,My anger's past; I will hear ye speak.Si. O Sister!Cle. Out with it Man.Si. O I have drunk my mischief.Cle. Ha? what?Si. My destruction.In at mine eyes I have drunk it; O the Princess,The rare sweet Princess!Cle. How fool? the rare Princess?Was it the Princess that thou said'st?Si. The Princess.Cle. Thou dost not love her sure, thou darst not.Si. Yes by Heaven.Cle. Yes by Heaven? I know thou darst not.The Princess? 'tis thy life the knowledge of it,Presumption that will draw into it all thy kindred,And leave 'em slaves and succourless; the Princess?Why she's a sacred thing to see and worship,Fixt from us as the Sun is, high, and glorious,To be ador'd not doted on; desire things possible,Thou foolish young man, nourish not a hopeWill hale thy heart out.Si. 'Tis my destinie,And I know both disgrace and death will quit it,If it be known.Cle. Pursue it not then, Siphax,Get thee good wholesome thoughts may nourish thee,Go home and pray.Si. I cannot.Cle. Sleep then, Siphax,And dream away thy doting.Si. I must have her,Or you no more your Brother; work Cleanthe,Work, and work speedily, or I shall die Wench.Cle. Dye then, I dare forget; farewel.Si. Farewel Sister.Farewel for ever, see me buried.Cle. Stay.Pray stay: he's all my brothers: no way Siphax,No other Woman?Si. None, none, she or sinking.Cle. Go and hope well, my life I'le venture for theeAnd all my art, a Woman may work miracles;No more, pray heartily against my fortunes,For much I fear a main one.Si. I shall do it. [Exeunt.Actus Tertius. Scena Prima
Enter a Priestess of Venus and a BoyPri. Find him by any means; and good child tell himHe has forgot his old friend, give him this,And say this night without excuse or business,As ever he may find a friend, come to me,He knows the way and how, begon.Boy. I gallop. [Exit Boy. Enter CleantheCle. I have been looking you.Pri. The fair Cleanthe,What may your business be?Cle. O holy MotherSuch business, of such strange weight, now or never.As ye have loved me, as ye do or may do,When I shall find a fit time.Pri. If by my meansYour business may be fitted; ye know me,And how I am tyed unto you; be bold DaughterTo build your best hopes.Cle. O but 'tis a strange one,Stuck with as many dangers —Pri. There's the working,Small things perform themselves and give no pleasures;Be confident, through death I'le serve.Clea. Here.Pri. Fye no corruption.Cle. Take it; 'tis yours,And goodness is no gall to th' Conscience,I know ye have ways to vent it: ye may hold it.Pr. I'll keep it for ye; when?Cle. To morrow morningI'll visit ye again; and when occasionOffers it self —Pr. Instruct me, and have at ye.Cle. Farewel till then; be sure.Pri. As your own thoughts, Lady.Cle. 'Tis a main work, and full of fear. [Exit Cle.Pri. Fools onlyMake their effects seem fearful, farewell daughter.This gold was well got for my old tuff Souldier,Now I shall be his sweet again; what businessIs this she has a foot? some lusty loverBeyond her line, the young Wench would fain piddle,A little to revive her must be thought of,'Tis even so, she must have it; but how by my means,A Devil, can she drive it? I that wait stillBefore the Goddess, giving Oracle,How can I profit her? 'tis her own project,And if she cast it false, her own fault be it. [Exit Priest. Enter Polydore, Eumenes, Captains, StremonPol. Why, this is utter madness.Eum. Thus it is, Sir.Pol. Only the Princess sight?1 Cap. All we can judge at.Pol. This must be lookt to timely.Eum. Yes, and wisely.Pol. He does not offer at his life?Eum. Not yet, Sir,That we can hear of.Pol. Noble Gentlemen,Let me entreat your watches over him,Ye cannot do a worthier work.2 Cap. We came, Sir,Provided for that service.Pol. Where is Chilax?Strem. A little busie, Sir.Pol. Is the Fool and Boy here?Strem. They are, Sir. Enter MemnonPol. Let 'em be still so; and as they find his humours.Eumen. Now ye may behold him.Pol. Stand close, and make no noise;By his eyes now, Gentlemen,I guess him full of anger.Eumen. Be not seen there.Mem. The hour's past long ago, he's false and fearful,Coward, go with thy Caitive soul, thou Cur Dog,Thou cold Clod, wild fire warm thee, monstrous fearful,I know the Slave shakes but to think on't.Pol. Who's that?Eumen. I know not, Sir.Mem. But I shall catch ye, Rascal,Your mangy Soul is not immortal here, Sir,Ye must dye, and we must meet; we must, maggot,Be sure we must, for not a Nook of Hell,Not the most horrid Pit shall harbour thee;The Devils tail sha'n't hide thee, but I'll have thee,And how I'll use thee! whips and firebrands:Tosting thy tail against a flame of wild fire,And basting it with Brimstone, shall be nothing,Nothing at all; I'll teach ye to be treacherous:Was never Slave so swing'd since Hell was HellAs I will swinge thy Slaves Soul; and be sure on't.Pol. Is this imagination, or some circumstance?For 'tis extream strange.Eumen. So is all he does, Sir.Mem. Till then I'll leave ye; who's there? where's the Surgeon?Demagoras?Dem. My Lord.Mem. Bring the Surgeon:And wait you too. Enter SurgeonPol. What wou'd he with a Surgeon?Eum. Things mustring in his head: pray mark.Mem. Come hither,Have you brought your Instruments?Sur. They are within, Sir.Mem. Put to the doors a while there; ye can inciseTo a hairs breadth without defacing.Sur. Yes Sir.Mem. And take out fairly from the flesh.Sur. The least thing.Mem. Well come hither; take off my doublet,For look ye Surgeon, I must have ye cutMy Heart out here, and handsomly: Nay, stare not,Nor do not start; I'll cut your throat else, Surgeon,Come swear to do it.Sur. Good Sir —Mem. Sirrah, hold him,I'll have but one blow at his head.Sur. I'll do it,Why what should we do living after you, Sir?We'll dye before if ye please.Mem. No, no.Sur. Living? hang living.Is there ne'r a Cat hole where I may creep through?Would I were in the Indies. [Aside.Mem. Swear then, and after my death presentlyTo kill your selves and follow, as ye are honest,As ye have faiths, and loves to me.Dem. We'll do it.Eum. Pray do not stir yet, we are near enoughTo run between all dangers.Mem. Here I am, Sir;Come, look upon me, view the best way boldly,Fear nothing, but cut home; if your hand shake, Sirrah,Or any way deface my heart i'th' cutting,Make the least scratch upon it; but draw it whole,Excellent fair, shewing at all points, Surgeon,The Honour and the Valour of the Owner,Mixt with the most immaculate love I send it,Look to't, I'll slice thee to the Soul.Sur. Ne'r fear, Sir,I'll do it daintily; would I were out once.Mem. I will not have ye smile, Sirrah, when ye do it,As though ye cut a Ladies Corn; 'tis scurvy:Do me it as thou dost thy Prayers, seriously.Sur. I'll do it in a dump, Sir.Mem. In a Dog, Sir,I'll have no dumps, nor dumplins; fetch your tools,And then I'll tell ye more.Sur. If I returnTo hear more, I'll be hang'd for't.Mem. Quick, quick.Dem. Yes Sir,With all the heels we have. [Exeunt Surgeon, Demagoras.Eumen. Yet stand.Pol. He'l do it.Eum. He cannot, and we here.Mem. Why when ye Rascals,Ye dull Slaves: will ye come, Sir? Surgeon, syringe,Dog-leach, shall I come fetch ye?Pol. Now I'll to him.God save ye honour'd Brother.Mem. My dear Polydore,Welcome from travel, welcome; and how do ye?Pol. Well Sir, would you were so.Mem. I am, I thank ye.You are a better'd man much, I the same still,An old rude Souldier, Sir.Pol. Pray be plain, Brother,And tell me but the meaning of this Vision,For to me it appears no more; so farFrom common Course and Reason.Mem. Thank thee, Fortune,At length I have found the man: the man must do it,The man in honour bound.Pol. To do what?Mem. Hark, for I will bless ye with the circumstanceOf that weak shadow that appear'd.Pol. Speak on, Sir. [Walks with him.Mem. It is no Story for all ears.Pol. The Princess? [Whispers.Mem. Peace and hear all.Pol. How?Eum. Sure 'tis dangerousHe starts so at it.Pol. Your heart? do you know, Sir?Mem. Yes, Pray thee be softer.Pol. Me to do it?Mem. Only reserv'd, and dedicated.Pol. For shame, Brother,Know what ye are, a man.Mem. None of your Athens,Good sweet Sir, no Philosophy, thou feel'st notThe honourable end, fool.Pol. I am sure I feelThe shame and scorn that follows; have ye serv'd thus longThe glory of your Country, in your Conquests?The envy of your Neighbours, in your Vertues?Rul'd Armies of your own, given Laws to Nations,Belov'd and fear'd as far as Fame has travell'd,Call'd the most fortunate and happy Memnon,To lose all here at home, poorly to lose it?Poorly, and pettishly, ridiculouslyTo fling away your fortune? where's your Wisedom?Where's that you govern'd others by, discretion?Do's your Rule lastly hold upon your self? fie Brother,How ye are faln? Get up into your honour,The top branch of your bravery, and from thence,Look and behold how little Memnon seems now.Mem. Hum! 'tis well spoken; but dost thou think young Scholar,The tongues of Angels from my happinessCould turn the end I aim at? no, they cannot.This is no Book-case, Brother; will ye do it?Use no more art, I am resolv'd.P[o]l. Ye may SirCommand me to do any thing that's honest,And for your noble end: but this, it carries —Mem. Ye shall not be so honour'd; live an Ass still,And learn to spell for profit: go, go study.Eum. Ye must not hold him up so, he is lost then.Mem. Get thee to School again, and talk of turnips,And find the natural Cause out, why a DogTurns thrice about e're he lyes down: there's Learning.Pol. Come, I will do it now; 'tis brave, I find it,And now allow the reason.Mem. O do you so, Sir?Do ye find it currant?Pol. Yes, yes, excellent.Mem. I told ye.Pol. I was foolish: I have here tooThe rarest way to find the truth out; hark ye?Ye shall be rul'd by me.Mem. It will be: but —Pol. I reach it,If the worst fall, have at the worst; we'll both go.But two days, and 'tis thus; ha?Mem. 'Twill do well so.Pol. Then is't not excellent, do ye conceive it?Mem. 'Twill work for certain.Pol. O 'twill tickle her,And you shall know then by a line.Mem. I like it,But let me not be fool'd again.Pol. Doubt nothing,You do me wrong then, get ye in there privateAs I have taught ye; Basta.Mem. Work. [Exit Memnon.Pol. I will do.Eum. Have ye found the cause?Pol. Yes, and the strangest, Gentlemen,That e'r I heard of, anon I'll tell ye: StremonBe you still near him to affect his fancy,And keep his thoughts off: let the Fool and BoyStay him, they may do some pleasure too: EumenesWhat if he had a Wench, a handsome Whore brought,Rarely drest up, and taught to state it?Eum. Well Sir.Pol. His cause is meerly heat: and made believeIt were the Princess mad for him.Eum. I think'Twere not amiss.1 Cap. And let him kiss her.Pol. What else?2 Cap. I'll be his Bawd an't please you, young and wholesomeI can assure ye he shall have.Eum. Faith let him.Pol. He shall, I hope 'twill help him, walk a little.I'll tell you how his case stands, and my projectIn which you may be mourners, but by all meansStir not you from him, Stremon.Strem. On our lives, Sir. [Exeunt. Enter Priestess, and ChilaxPri. O y'are a precious man! two days in townAnd never see your old Friend?Chi. Prithee pardon me.Pri. And in my Conscience if I had not sent.Chi. No more, I would ha' come; I must.Pri. I find ye,God a mercy want, ye never care for meBut when your Slops are empty.Chi. Ne'r fear that, Wench;Shall find good currant Coin still; Is this the old House?Pri. Have ye forgot it?Chi. And the door still standingThat goes into the Temple?Pri. Still.Chi. The Robes too,That I was wont to shift in here?Pri. All here still.Chi. O ye tuff Rogue, what troubles have I trotted through!What fears and frights! every poor Mouse a MonsterThat I heard stir, and every stick I trod on,A sharp sting to my Conscience.Pri. 'Las poor Conscience.Chi. And all to liquor thy old Boots, Wench.Pri. Out Beast:How you talk!Chi. I am old, Wench,And talking to an old man is like a stomacher,It keeps his blood warm.Pri. But pray tell me —Chi. Any thing.Pri. Where did the Boy meet with ye? at a Wench sure?At one end of a Wench, a Cup of Wine, sure?Chi. Thou know'st I am too honest.Pri. That's your fault,And that the Surgeon knows.Chi. Then farewel,I will not fail ye soon.Pri. Ye shall stay Supper;I have sworn ye shall, by this ye shall.Chi. I will, Wench;But after Supper for an hour, my business.Pri. And but an hour?Chi. No by this kiss, that endedI will return and all night in thine Arms wench.Pr. No more, I'le take your meaning; come 'tis Supper time. [Exeunt. Enter Calis, Cleanthe, LucippeCalis. Thou art not well.Clean. Your grace sees more a great dealThan I feel, (yet I lye) O Brother!Cal. Mark her,Is not the quickness of her eye consumed, wench?The lively red and white?Lucip. Nay she is much alter'd,That on my understanding, all her sleeps LadyWhich were as sound and sweet —Cle. Pray do not force me,Good Madam, where I am not, to be ill,Conceit's a double sickness; on my faith your highnessIs meer mistaken in me. { A Dead March within of Drum and SagbuttsCal. I am glad on't.Yet this I have ever noted when thou wast thus,It still forerun some strange event: my SisterDied when thou wast thus last: hark hark, ho,What mournfull noise is this comes creeping forward?Still it grows nearer, nearer, do ye hear it? Enter Polydor, and Captains, Eumenes mourningLucip. It seems some Souldiers funeral: see it enters.C[a]l. What may it mean?Pol. The Gods keep ye fair Calis.Cal. This man can speak, and well; he stands and views us;Wou'd I were ne'r worse look't upon: how humblyHis eyes are cast now to the Earth! pray mark himAnd mark how rarely he has rankt his troubles:See now he weeps, they all weep; a sweeter sorrowI never look't upon, nor one that braverBecame his grief; your will with us?Pol. Great Lady, [Plucks out the Cup.Excellent beauty.Cal. He speaks handsomely.What a rare rhetorician his grief plaies!That stop was admirable.Pol. See, see thou Princess,Thou great commander of all hearts.Cal. I have found it,O how my soul shakes!Pol. See, see the noble heartOf him that was the noblest: see and glory(Like the proud God himself) in what thou hast purchas'd,Behold the heart of Memnon: does it start ye?Cal. Good gods, what has his wildness done?Pol. Look boldlie,You boldlie said you durst, look wretched woman,Nay flie not back fair follie, 'tis too late now,Vertue and blooming honour bleed to death here,Take it, the Legacie of Love bequeath'd ye,Of cruel Love a cruel Legacie;What was the will that wrought it then? can ye weep?Imbalm it in your truest tearsIf women can weep a truth, or ever sorrow sunk yetInto the soul of your sex, for 'tis a JewelThe worlds worth cannot weigh down,Take it Lady; And with it all (I dare not curse) my sorrows,And may they turn to Serpents.Eumen. How she looksStill upon him! see now a tear steals from her.2 Capt. But still she keeps her eye firm.Pol. Next read this,But since I see your spirit somewhat troubledI'le doe it for ye.2 Capt. Still she eyes him mainlie.Goe happy heart for thou shalt lyeIntomb'd in her for whom I dyeExample of her cruelty.Tell her if she chance to chideMe for slowness in her prideThat it was for her I died.If a tear escape her eye'Tis not for my memoryBut thy rights of obsequy.The Altar was my loving breast,My heart the sacrificed beast,And I was my self the Priest.Your body was the sacred shrine,Your cruel mind the power divinePleas'd with hearts of men, not kine.Eumen. Now it pours down.Pol. I like it rarelie: Ladie.Eumen. How greedily she swallows up his language!2 Capt. Her eye inhabits on him.Pol. Cruel Ladie,Great as your beautie scornfull; had your powerBut equal poise on all hearts, all hearts perish't;But Cupid has more shafts than one, more flames too,And now he must be open ey'd, 'tis Justice:Live to injoy your longing; live and laugh atThe losses and the miseries we suffer;Live to be spoken when your crueltieHas cut off all the vertue from this Kingdom,Turn'd honour into earth, and faithful service.Cal. I swear his anger's excellent.Pol. Truth, and most tried loveInto disdain and downfall.Calis. Still more pleasing.Pol. Live then I say famous for civil slaughters,Live and lay out your triumphs, gild your glories,Live and be spoken this is she, this Ladie,This goodly Ladie, yet most killing beautie;This with the two edg'd eyes, the heart for hardnessOutdoing rocks; and coldness, rocks of Crystal.This with the swelling soul, more coy of CourtshipThan the proud sea is when the shores embrace him;Live till the mothers find ye, read your story,And sow their barren curses on your beauty,Till those that have enjoy'd their loves despise ye,Till Virgins pray against ye, old age find ye,And even as wasted coals glow in their dying,So may the Gods reward ye in your ashes:But y'are the Sister of my King; more propheciesElse I should utter of ye, true loves and loyalBless themselves ever from ye: so I leave ye.Cal. Prethee be angry still young man: good fair SirChide me again, what wou'd this man doe pleas'd,That in his passion can bewitch souls? stay.Eumen. Upon my life she loves him.Calis. Pray stay.Pol. No.Cal. I do command ye.Pol. No, ye cannot Ladie,I have a spell against ye, Faith and Reason,Ye are too weak to reach me: I have a heart too,But not for hawks meat Ladie.Cal. Even for CharityLeave me not thus afflicted: you can teach me.Pol. How can you Preach that Charity to othersThat in your own soul are an Atheist,Believing neither power nor fear? I trouble ye,The Gods be good unto ye.Cal. Amen.Lucip. Ladie. [She Swounds.C[l]e. O royal Madam, Gentlemen for heaven sake. { They come back.Pol. Give her fresh air, she comes again: away sirsAnd here stand close till we perceive the working.Eumen. Ye have undone all.Pol. So I fear.2 Capt. She loves ye.Eumen. And then all hopes lost this way.Pol. Peace she rises.Clean. Now for my purpose Fortune.Calis. Where's the Gentleman?Lucip. Gone Madam.Calis. Why gone?Lucip. H'as dispatch't his business.Calis. He came to speak with me,He did.Clean. He did not.Calis. For I had many questions.Lucip. On my Faith Madam, heTalk't a great while to ye.Calis. Thou conceiv'st not,He talk't not as he should doe; O my heartAway with that sad sight; didst thou e're love me?Lucip. Why do you make that question?Calis. If thou didstRun, run wench, run: nay see how thou stir'st.Lucip. Whither?Calis. If 'twere for any thing to please thy selfThou woud'st run toth' devil: but I am grown —Clean. Fie Lady.Cal. I ask none of your fortunes, nor your loves,None of your bent desires I slack, ye are notIn love with all men, are ye? one for shameYou will leave your honour'd mistris? why do ye stare so?What is that ye see about me, tell me?Lord what am I become? I am not wilde sure,Heaven keep that from me: O Cleanthe help me,Or I am sunk to death.Cle. Ye have offended and mightily, love is incenst against ye,And therefore take my Counsel, to the Temple,For that's the speediest physick: before the GoddessGive your repentant prayers: ask her will,And from the Oracle attend your sentence,She is milde and mercifull.Calis. I will: O VenusEven as thou lov'st thy self!Clean. Now for my fortune. [Exeunt Cal. and women.Pol. What shall I doe?1 Capt. Why make your self.Pol. I dare not,No Gentlemen, I dare not be a villain,Though her bright beauty would entice an Angel.I will toth' King my last hope: get him a womanAs we before concluded: and as ye passGive out the Spartans are in arms; and terrible;And let some letters to that end be feign'd tooAnd sent to you, some Posts too, to the General;And let me work: be ne're him still.Eumen. We will Sir.Pol. Farewel: and pray for all: what e're I will yeDoe it, and hope a fair end.Eumen. The Gods speed ye. [Exeunt. Enter Stremon, Fool, Boy, and ServantsServants. He lies quiet.Strem. Let him lye, and as I told yeMake ready for this shew: h'as divers timesBeen calling upon Orpheus to appearAnd shew the joyes: now I will be that Orpheus,And as I play and sing, like beasts and treesI wou'd have you shap't and enter: thou a Dog, fool,I have sent about your sutes: the Boy a bush,An Ass you, you a Lion.Fool. I a Dog?I'le fit you for a Dog. Bow wow.Strem. 'Tis excellent,Steal in and make no noise.Fool. Bow wow.Strem. Away Rogue. [Exeunt. Enter Priestess, and ChilaxPriest. Good sweet friend be not long.Chi. Thou think'st each hour tenTill I be ferreting.Prie. You know I love ye.Chi. I will not be above an hour; let thy robe be readieAnd the door be kept. { Knock. Cleanthe knocks within.Prie. Who knocks there?Yet more business? Enter CleantheChi. Have ye more pensioners? the Princess woman?Nay then I'le stay a little, what game's a foot now?Clean. Now is the time.Chi. A rank bawd by this hand too,She grinds o' both sides: hey boyes.Priest. How, your Brother Siphax?Loves he the Princess?Cle. Deadlie, and you knowHe is a Gentleman descended noblie.Chi. But a rank knave as ever pist.Cle. Hold Mother,Here's more gold and some jewells.Chi. Here's no villany,I am glad I came toth' hearing.Priest. Alas Daughter,What would ye have me doe?Chi. Hold off ye old whore;There's more gold coming; all's mine, all.Cle. Do ye shrink now,Did ye not promise faithfully, and told meThrough any danger?Pri. Any I can wade through.Cle. Ye shall and easily, the sin not seen neither,Here's for a better stole and a new vail mother:Come, ye shall be my friend.Chi. If all hit, hang me,I'le make ye richer than the Goddess.Pri. Say then,I am yours, what must I doe?Cle. I'th' morningBut very early, will the Princess visitThe Temple of the Goddess, being troubledWith strange things that distract her: from the Oracle(Being strongly too in love) she will demandThe Goddess pleasure, and a Man to cure her,That Oracle you give: describe my Brother,You know him perfectly.Pri. I have seen him often.Cle. And charge her take the next man she shall meet withWhen she comes out: you understand me.Priest. Well.Cle. Which shall be he attending; this is all,And easily without suspicion ended,Nor none dare disobey, 'tis Heaven that does it,And who dares cross it then, or once suspect it?The venture is most easie.Pri. I will doe it.Cle. As ye shall prosper?Pri. As I shall prosper.Cle. Take this too, and farewel; but first hark hither.Chi. What a young whore's this to betray her Mistris?A thousand Cuckolds shall that Husband be,That marries thee, thou art so mischievous.I'le put a spoak among your wheels.Clean. Be constant.Priest. 'Tis done.Chi. I'le doe no more at drop shot then. [Exit Chilax.Pri. Farewel wench. [Exeunt Priest and Cleanthe.