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Actus Quartus. Scena Prima
Enter a Servant, and Stremon, at the doorServant. He stirs, he stirs.Strem. Let him, I am ready for him,He shall not this day perish, if his passionsMay be fed with Musick; are they ready? Enter MemnonSer. All, all: see where he comes.Strem. I'le be straight for him. [Exit Stremon. Enter Eumenes, and CaptainsSer. How sad he looks and sullen! [Stand close.Here are the Captains: my fear's past now.Mem. Put case i'th' other worldShe do not love me neither? I am old 'tis certain.Eumen. His spirit is a little quieter.Mem. My blood lost, and limbs stiff; my embracesLike the cold stubborn bark, hoarie, and heatless,My words worse: my fame only and atchievementsWhich are my strength, my blood, my youth, my fashion,Must wooe her, win her, wed her; that's but wind,And women are not brought to bed with shadows:I do her wrong, much wrong; she is young and blessed,Sweet as the spring, and as his blossoms tender,And I a nipping North-wind, my head hungWith hails, and frostie Isicles: are the souls so tooWhen they depart hence, lame and old, and loveless?No sure, 'tis ever youth there; Time and DeathFollow our flesh no more: and that forc'd opinionThat spirits have no sexes, I believe not. Enter Stremon, like OrpheusThere must be love, there is love: what art thou?SONGStre. Orpheus I am, come from the deeps below,To thee fond man the plagues of love to show:To the fair fields where loves eternal dwellThere's none that come, but first they pass through hell:Hark and beware unless thou hast lov'd ever,Belov'd again, thou shalt see those joyes never.Hark how they groan that dy'd despairing,O take heed then:Hark how they howl for over-daring,All these were men.They that be fools, and dye for fameThey lose their name;And they that bleedHark how they speed.Now in cold frosts, now scorching firesThey sit, and curse their lost desires:Nor shall these souls be free from pains and fears,Till Women waft them over in their tears.Mem. How should I know my passage is deni'd me?Or which of all the Devils dare?Eumen. This SongWas rarely form'd to fit him.SONGOrph. Charon O Charon,Thou wafter of the souls to bliss or bane.Cha. Who calls the Ferry-man of Hell?Orph. Come near,And say who lives in joy, and who in fear.Cha. Those that dye well, Eternal joy shall follow;Those that dye ill, their own foul fate shall swallow.Orph. Shall thy black Bark those guilty spirits stowThat kill themselves for love?Cha. O no, no,My cordage cracks when such great sins are near,No wind blows fair, nor I myself can stear.Orph. What lovers pass and in Elyzium raign?Cha. Those Gentle loves that are belov'd again.Orph. This Souldier loves, and fain wou'd dye to win,Shall he goe on?Cha. No 'tis too foul a sin.He must not come aboard: I dare not row,Storms of despair, and guilty blood will blow.Orph. Shall time release him, say?Cha. No, no, no, no.Nor time nor death can alter us, nor prayer;My boat is destinie, and who then dareBut those appointed come aboard? Live still,And love by reason, Mortal, not by will.Orph. And when thy Mistris shall close up thine eyes,Cha. Then come aboard and pass,Orph. Till when be wise.Cha. Till when be wise.Eumen. How still he sits: I hope this Song has setled him.1 Capt. He bites his lip, and rowles his fiery eyes, yetI fear for all this —2 Capt. Stremon still apply to him.Strem. Give me more room, sweetly strike, divinelySuch strains as old earth moves at.Orph. The power I have over both beast and plant,Thou man alone feelst miserable want. [Musick.Strike you rare Spirits that attend my will,And lose your savage wildness by my skill. Enter a Mask of BeastsThis Lion was a man of War that died,As thou wouldst do, to gild his Ladies pride:This Dog a fool that hung himself for love:This Ape with daily hugging of a glove,Forgot to eat and died. This goodly tree,An usher that still grew before his Ladie,Wither'd at root. This, for he could not wooe,A grumbling Lawyer: this pyed Bird a page,That melted out because he wanted age.Still these lye howling on the Stygian shore,O love no more, O love no more. [Exit Memnon.Eumen. He steals off silently, as though he would sleep,No more, but all be near him, feed his fancieGood Stremon still; this may lock up his follie.Yet Heaven knows I much fear him; away softly. [Exeunt Captains.Fool. Did I not doe most doggedly?Strem. Most rarelie.Fool. He's a brave man, when shall we dog again?Boy. Unty me first for Gods sake,Fool. Help the Boy; he's in a wood poor child: good hony StremonLet's have a bear-baiting; ye shall see me playThe rarest for a single Dog: at head all;And if I do not win immortal glorie,Play Dog play Devil.Strem. Peace for this time.Fool. PretheeLet's sing him a black Santis, then let's all howlIn our own beastly voices; tree keep your time,Untye there; bow, wow, wow.Strem. Away ye Asse, away.Fool. Why let us doe somethingTo satisfie the Gentleman, he's mad;A Gentleman-like humour, and in fashion,And must have men as mad about him.Strem. Peace,And come in quicklie, 'tis ten to one elseHe'l find a staff to beat a dog; no more words,I'le get ye all imployment; soft, soft in all. [Exeunt. Enter Chilax and CloeChi. When camest thou over wench?Clo. But now this evening,And have been ever since looking out Siphax,I'th' wars he would have lookt me: sure h'as gottenSome other Mistris?Chi. A thousand, wench, a thousand,They are as common here as CaterpillersAmong the corn, they eat up all the Souldiers.Clo. Are they so hungry? yet by their leave [C]hilax,I'le have a snatch too.Chi. Dost thou love him still wench?Clo. Why should I not? he had my Maiden-headAnd all my youth.Chi. Thou art come the happiest,In the most blessed time, sweet wench the fittest,If thou darst make thy fortune: by this light, Cloe,And so I'le kiss thee: and if thou wilt but let me,For 'tis well worth a kindness.Clo. What shou'd I let ye?Chi. Enjoy thy miniken.Clo. Thou art still old Chilax.Chi. Still still, and ever shall be: if, I say,Thou wo't strike the stroke: I cannot do much harm wench.Clo. Nor much good.Chi. Siphax shall be thy Husband,Thy very Husband woman, thy fool, thy Cuckold,Or what thou wilt make him: I am over joy'd,Ravisht, clean ravisht with this fortune; kiss me,Or I shall lose my self.Clo. My Husband said ye?Chi. Said I? and will say,Cloe: nay and do itAnd do it home too; Peg thee as close to himAs birds are with a pin to one another;I have it, I can do it: thou wantst clothes too,And hee'l be hang'd unless he marry theeE're he maintain thee: now he has Ladies, CourtiersMore than his back can bend at, multitudes;We are taken up for threshers, will ye bite?Clo. Yes.Chi. And let me —Clo. Yes and let ye —Chi. What!Clo. Why that ye wote of.Chi. I cannot stay, take your instructionsAnd something toward houshold, come, what everI shall advise ye, follow it exactlie,And keep your times I point ye; for I'le tell yeA strange way you must wade through.Clo. Fear not me Sir.Chi. Come then, and let's dispatch this modicum,For I have but an hour to stay, a short one,Besides more water for another mill,An old weak over-shot I must provide for,There's an old Nunnerie at hand.Clo. What's that?Chi. A bawdie house.Clo. A pox consume it.Chi. If the stones 'tis built onWere but as brittle as the flesh lives in it,Your curse came handsomlie: fear not, there's ladies,And other good sad people: your pinkt CitizensThink it no shame to shake a sheet there: Come wench. [Exeunt. Enter Cleanthe and SiphaxClean. A Souldier and so fearfull?Siph. Can ye blame me;When such a weight lies on me?Clean. Fye upon ye,I tell ye, ye shall have her: have her safelie,And for your wife with her own will.Siph. Good Sister —Cle. What a distrustfull man are you! to morrow,To morrow morning —Siph. Is it possible?Can there be such a happiness?Clean. Why hang meIf then ye be not married: if to morrow night,Ye doe not —Siph. O dear Sister —Clean. What ye wou'd doe,What ye desire to doe; lie with her: Devil,What a dull man are you!Siph. Nay I believe now,And shall she love me?Clean. As her life, and stroke ye.Siph. O I will be her Servant.Clean. 'Tis your dutie.Siph. And she shall have her whole will.Clean. Yes 'tis reason,She is a Princess, and by that rule boundless.Si. What wou'd you be? for I wou'd have ye SisterChuse some great place about us: as her womanIs not so fit.Clean. No, no, I shall find places.Siph. And yet to be a Ladie of her bed-chamber,I hold not so fit neither,Some great title, believe it, shall be look't out.Clean. Ye may, a DutchessOr such a toye, a small thing pleases me Sir.Sip. What you will Sister: if a neighbour Prince,When we shall come to raign —Clean. We shall think on't,Be ready at the time, and in that place too,And let me work the rest, within this half hourThe Princess will be going, 'tis almost morning,Away and mind your business.Siph. Fortune bless us. [Exeunt. Enter King, Polydor and LordsPol. I do beseech your grace to banish me.King. Why Gentleman, is she not worthy marriage?Pol. Most worthy, Sir, where worth again shall meet her,But I like thick clouds sailing slow and heavy,Although by her drawn higher, yet shall hide her,I dare not be a traitor; and 'tis treason,But to imagine: as you love your honour —King. 'Tis her first maiden doting, and if crost,I know it kills her.1 Lord. How knows your grace she loves him?King. Her woman told me all (beside his story)Her maid Lucippe, on what reason too,And 'tis beyond all but enjoying.Polydor. Sir,Even by your wisdom; by that great discretionYe owe to rule and order —2 Lord. This man's mad sure,To plead against his fortune —1 Lord. And the King too,Willing to have it so!Pol. By those dead PrincesFrom whose descents ye stand a star admir'd at,Lay not so base a lay upon your vertues;Take heed, for honours sake take heed: the brambleNo wise man ever planted by the rose,It cankers all her beauty; nor the vineWhen her full blushes court the sun, dares anyChoke up with wanton Ivy: good my Lords,Who builds a monument, the Basis Jasper,And the main body Brick?2 Lord. Ye wrong your worth,Ye are a Gentleman descended nobly.1 Lord. In both bloods truly noble.King. Say ye were not,My will can make ye so.Pol. No, never, never;'Tis not descent, nor will of Princes does it,'Tis Vertue which I want, 'tis Temperance,Man, honest man: is't fit your MajestyShould call my drunkenness, my rashness, Brother?Or such a blessed Maid my breach of faith,(For I am most lascivious) and fell angersIn which I am also mischievous, her Husband?O Gods preserve her! I am wild as Winter,Ambitious as the Devil: out upon me,I hate my self, Sir, if ye dare bestow herUpon a Subject, ye have one deserves her.King. But him she does not love: I know your meaning.This young mans love unto his noble BrotherAppears a mirrour; what must now be done Lords?For I am gravel'd, if she have not him,She dies for certain, if his Brother miss her,Farewel to him, and all our honours.1 Lord. He is dead, Sir,Your Grace has heard of that, and strangely.King. No,I can assure you no, there was a trick in't,Read that, and then know all; what ails the Gentleman?Hold him; how do ye Sir? [Polydor is sick o'th' sudden.Pol. Sick o'th' sudden,Extreamly ill, wondrous ill.King. Where did it take ye?Pol. Here in my head, Sir, and my heart, for Heaven sake.King. Conduct him to his Chamber presently,And bid my Doctors —Pol. No, I shall be well, Sir,I do beseech your Grace, even for the Gods sakeRemember my poor Brother, I shall pray then.King. Away, he grows more weak still: I will do it,Or Heaven forget me ever. Now your Counsels, [Ex. Pol.For I am at my wits end; what with you Sir? Enter Messenger with a LetterMess. Letters from warlike Pelius.King. Yet more troubles?The Spartans are in Arms, and like to win all:Supplies are sent for, and the General;This is more cross than t'other; come let's to him,For he must have her, 'tis necessity,Or we must lose our honours, let's plead all,For more than all is needful, shew all reasonIf love can hear o' that side, if she yieldWe have fought best, and won the noblest field. [Exeunt. Enter Eumenes, Captains, Stremon1 Cap. I have brought the wench, a lusty wench,And somewhat like the Princess.Eumen. 'Tis the better, let's see her,And go you in and tell him, that her GraceIs come to visit him: how sleeps he Stremon?Stre. He cannot, only thinks, and calls on Polydor,Swears he will not be fool'd; sometimes he rages,And sometimes sits and muses. [Exit Stremon. Enter Whore, and CaptainEume. He's past all help sure?How do ye like her?2 Capt. By th' mass a good round Virgin,And at first sight resembling, she is well cloath'd too.Eume. But is she sound?2 Cap. Of wind and limb, I warrant her.Eume. You are instructed Lady?Who. Yes, and know, Sir,How to behave my self, ne're fear.Eume. Polybius,Where did he get this Vermin?1 Capt. Hang him Badger,There's not a hole free from him, whores and whores matesDo all pay him obedience.Eume. Indeed i'th' War,His quarter was all Whore, Whore upon Whore,And lin'd with Whore; beshrew me 'tis a fair Whore.1 Capt. She has smockt away her blood; but fair or foul,Or blind or lame, that can but lift her leg up,Comes not amiss to him, he rides like a night Mare,All Ages, all Religions.Eume. Can ye state it?Who. I'le make a shift.Eume. He must lie with ye, Lady.Who. Let him, [h]e's not the first man I have lain with,Nor shall not be the last. Enter Memnon2 Capt. He comes, no more words,She has her lesson throughly; how he views her!Eumen. Go forward now, so, bravely, stand!Mem. Great Lady,How humbly I am bound —Who. You shall not kneel, Sir,Come, I have done you wrong; stand my Souldier,And thus I make amends – [Kisses him.Eumen. A Plague confound ye,Is this your state?2 Capt. 'Tis well enough.Mem. O Lady,Your Royal hand, your hand my dearest beautyIs more than I must purchase: here divine one,I dare revenge my wrongs: ha?1 Capt. A damn'd foul one.Eume. The Lees of Baudy prewns: mourning Gloves?All spoil'd by Heaven.Mem. Ha! who art thou?2 Capt. A shame on ye,Ye clawing scabby Whore.Mem. I say, who art thou?Eumen. Why 'tis the Princess, Sir.Mem. The Devil, Sir,'Tis some Roguey thing.Who. If this abuse be love, Sir,Or I that laid aside my modesty —Eumen. So far thou't never find it.Mem. Do not weep,For if ye be the Princess, I will love ye,Indeed I will, and honour ye, fight for ye,Come, wipe your eyes; by Heaven she stinks; who art thou?Stinks like a poyson'd Rat behind a hanging?Woman, who art? like a rotten Cabbage.2 Capt. Y'are much to blame, Sir, 'tis the Princess.Mem. How?She the Princess?Eumen. And the loving Princess.1 Capt. Indeed the doating Princess.Mem. Come hither once more,The Princess smells like mornings breath, pure Amber,Beyond the courted Indies in her spices.Still a dead Rat by Heaven; thou a Princess?Eumen. What a dull Whore is this!Mem. I'le tell ye presently,For if she be a Princess, as she may beAnd yet stink too, and strongly, I shall find her;Fetch the Numidian Lyon I brought over,If she be sprung from the Royal blood, the Lyon,He'l do you reverence, else —Who. I beseech your Lordship —Eumen. He'l tear her all to pieces.Who. I am no Princess, Sir.Mem. Who brought thee hither?2 Capt. If ye confess, we'll hang ye.Who. Good my Lord —Mem. Who art thou then?Who. A poor retaining Whore, Sir,To one of your Lordships Captains.Mem. Alas poor Whore,Go, be a Whore still, and stink worse: Ha, ha, ha. [Ex. Cloe.What fools are these, and Coxcombs! [Exit Memnon.Eumen. I am right glad yet,He takes it with such lightness.1 Cap. Me thinks his face tooIs not so clouded as it was; how he looks!Eume. Where's your dead Rat?2 Cap. The Devil dine upon herLoins; why what a Medicine had he gottenTo try a Whore! Enter StremonStre. Here's one from Polydor stays to speak with ye.Eume. With whom?Stre. With all; where has the General been?He's laughing to himself extreamly.Eumen. Come,I'le tell thee how; I am glad yet he's so merry. [Exeunt.Actus Quintus. Scena Prima
Enter Chilax and Priestess, Calis, Lady and NunChi. What lights are those that enter there, still nearer?Plague o' your rotten itch, do you draw me hitherInto the Temple to betray me? was there no placeTo satisfie your sin in? Gods forgive me,Still they come forward.Priest. Peace ye fool, I have found it,'Tis the young Princess Calis.Chi. 'Tis the Devil,To claw us for our catterwawling.Priest. Retire softly,I did not look for you these two hours, Lady,Beshrew your hast: that way. [To Chilax.Chi. That goes to the Altar!Ye old blind Beast.Priest. I know not, any way;Still they come nearer,I'le in to th' Oracle.Chi. That's well remembred I'le in with ye.Priest. Do. [Exeunt Priest, and Chilax. Enter Calis and her Train with lights, singing:Lucippe, CleantheSONGO fair sweet Goddess Queen of Loves,Soft and gentle, as thy Doves,Humble ey'd, and ever ruingThose poor hearts, their Loves pursuing:O thou Mother of delights,Crowner of all happy nights,Star of dear content, and pleasure,Of mutual loves the endless treasure,Accept this sacrifice we bring,Thou continual youth and Spring,Grant this Lady her desires,And every hour we'll crown thy fires.Enter a NunNun. You about her all retire,Whilest the Princess feeds the fire,When your Devotions ended beTo the Oracle I will attend ye.[Exit Nun and draws the Curtain close to Calis. Enter Stremon and EumenesStrem. He will abroad.Eumen. How does his humour hold him?Stre. He is now grown wondrous sad, weeps often too,Talks of his Brother to himself, starts strangely.Eumen. Does he not curse?Strem. No.Eumen. Nor break out in fury,Offering some new attempt?Strem. Neither; to th' TempleIs all we hear of now: what there he will do —Eumen. I hope repent his folly, let's be near him.Strem. Where are the rest?Eumen. About a businessConcerns him mainly, if Heav'n cure his madness,He's made for ever, Stremon.Strem. Does the King know it?Eumen. Yes, and much troubled with it, he's now goneTo seek his Sister out.Strem. Come let's away then. [Exeunt Eumen. Strem. Cal. Enter Nun, she opens the Curtain to Calis. Calis at the OracleNun. Peace to your Prayers Lady, will it please yeTo pass on to the Oracle?Cal. Most humbly. [Chilax and Priest, in the Oracle.Chi. Do ye hear that?Priest. Yes, lie close.Chi. A wildfire take ye,What shall become of me? I shall be hang'd now:Is this a time to shake? a halter shake ye,Come up and juggle, come.Priest. I am monstrous fearful.Chi. Up ye old gaping Oyster, up and answer;A mouldy Mange upon your chops, ye told meI was safe here till the Bell rung.Priest. I was prevented,And did not look these three hours for the Princess.Chi. Shall we be taken?Priest. Speak for loves sake, Chilax;I cannot, nor I dare not.Chi. I'le speak Treason, for I had as lieve be hang'd for that.Priest. Good Chilax.Chi. Must it be sung or said? what shall I tell 'em?They are here; here now preparing.Priest. O my Conscience!Chi. Plague o' your spurgall'd Conscience, does it tire now?Now when it should be tuffest? I could make thee —Priest. Save us, we are both undone else.Chi. Down ye Dog then,Be quiet, and be stanch to no inundations.Nun. Here kneel again, and Venus grant your wishes.Calis. O Divine Star of Heaven,Thou in power above the seven:Thou sweet kindler of desires,Till they grow to mutual fires:Thou, O gentle Queen, that artCurer of each wounded heart:Thou the fuel, and the flame;Thou in Heaven, and here the same:Thou the wooer, and the woo'd:Thou the hunger, and the food:Thou the prayer, and the pray'd;Thou what is, or shall be said:Thou still young, and golden tressed,Make me by thy Answer blessed.Chi. When?Priest. Now speak handsomly, and small by all means,I have told ye what. [Thunder.Chi. But I'le tell you a new tale,Now for my Neck-verse; I have heard thy prayers,And mark me well. Musick. Venus descendsNun. The Goddess is displeased much,The temple shakes and totters; she appears,Bow, Lady, bow.Venus. Purge me the Temple round,And live by this example henceforth sound.Virgin, I have seen thy tears,Heard thy wishes, and thy fears;Thy holy Incense flew above,Hark therefore to thy doom in Love;Had thy heart been soft at first,Now thou had'st allay'd thy thirst,Had thy stubborn will but bended,All thy sorrows here had ended;Therefore to be just in Love,A strange Fortune thou must prove,And, for thou hast been stern and coy,A dead Love thou shalt enjoy.Cal. O gentle goddess!Ven. Rise, thy doom is said,And fear not, I will please thee with the dead. [Venus ascends.Nun. Go up into the Temple and there endYour holy Rites, the Goddess smiles upon ye. [Exeunt Cal. and Nun. Enter Chilax in his RobeChi. I'll no more Oracles, nor Miracles,Nor no more Church work, I'll be drawn and hang'd first.Am not I torn a pieces with the thunder?Death, I can scarce believe I live yet,It gave me on the buttocks, a cruel, a huge bang,I had as lieve ha' had 'em scratcht with Dog-whips:Be quiet henceforth, now ye feel the end on't,I would advise ye my old friends, the good GentlewomanIs strucken dumb, and there her Grace sits mumpingLike an old Ape eating a Brawn; sure the good GoddessKnew my intent was honest, to save the Princess,And how we young men are entic'd to wickedness,By these lewd Women, I had paid for't else too.I am monstrous holy now, and cruel fearful,O 'twas a plaguey thump, charg'd with a vengeance. Enter Siphax, walks softly over the stage, and goes inWould I were well at home; the best is, 'tis not day:Who's that? ha? Siphax! I'll be with you anon, Sir;Ye shall be oracled I warrant ye,And thunder'd too, as well as I; your Lordship Enter Memnon, Eumenes, Stremon, and two carrying TorchesMust needs enjoy the Princess, yes: ha! Torches?And Memnon coming this way? he's Dog-mad,And ten to one appearing thus unto him,He worries me, I must go by him.Eum. Sir?Mem. Ask me no further questions; what art thou?How dost thou stare! stand off; nay look upon me,I do not shake, nor fear thee – [Draws his Sword.Chi. He will kill me,This is for Church work.Mem. Why dost thou appear now?Thou wert fairly slain: I know thee, Diocles,And know thine envy to mine honour: but —Chi. Stay Memnon,I am a Spirit, and thou canst not hurt me.Eum. This is the voice of Chilax.Strem. What makes him thus?Chi. 'Tis true, that I was slain in field, but foully,By multitudes, not manhood: therefore mark me,I do appear again to quit mine honour,And on thee single.Mem. I accept the challenge.Where?Chi. On the Stygian Banks.Mem. When?Chi. Four days hence.Mem. Go noble Ghost, I will attend.Chi. I thank ye.Stre. Ye have sav'd your throat, and handsomly:Farewel, Sir. [Exit Chilax.Mem. Sing me the Battles of Pelusium,In which this Worthy dyed.Eum. This will spoil all, and make him worseThan e'r he was: sit down, Sir,And give your self to rest.SONGArm, arm, arm, arm, the Scouts are all come in,Keep your Ranks close, and now your honours win.Behold from yonder Hill, the Foe appears,Bows, Bills, Glaves, Arrows, Shields, and Spears,Like a dark Wood he comes, or tempest pouring;O view the Wings of Horse the Meadows scowring,The vant-guard marches bravely, hark, the Drums– dub, dub.They meet, they meet, and now the Battel comes:See how the Arrows fly,That darken all the Skye;Hark how the Trumpets sound,Hark how the Hills rebound.– Tara, tara, tara.Hark how the Horses charge: in Boys, Boys in– tara, tara.The Battel totters; now the wounds begin;O how they cry,O how they dy!Room for the valiant Memnon arm'd with thunder,See how he breaks the Ranks asunder:They flye, they flye, Eumenes has the Chace,And brave Polybius makes good his place.To the Plains, to the Woods,To the Rocks, to the Floods,They flie for succour: Follow, follow, follow, Hey, hey.Hark how the Souldiers hollowBrave Diocles is dead,And all his Souldiers fled,The Battel's won, and lost,That many a life hath cost.Mem. Now forward to the Temple. [Exeunt. Enter ChilaxChi. Are ye gone?How have I 'scap'd this morning! by what miracle!Sure I am ordain'd for some brave end. Enter CloeClo. How is it?Chi. Come, 'tis as well as can be.Clo. But is it possibleThis should be true you tell me?Chi. 'Tis most certain.Clo. Such a gross Ass to love the Princess?Chi. Peace,Pull your Robe close about ye: you are perfectIn all I taught ye?Cl[o]. Sure.Chi. Gods give thee good luck.'Tis strange my Brains should still be beating KnaveryFor all these dangers, but they are needful mischiefs,And such are Nuts to me; and I must do 'em.You will remember me —Clo. By this kiss, Chilax.Chi. No more of that, I fear another thunder.Clo. We are not i'th' Temple, man. Enter SiphaxChi. Peace, here he comes,Now to our business handsomly; away now. [Ex. Chilax, and Cloe.Si. 'Twas sure the Princess, for he kneel'd unto her,And she lookt every way: I hope the OracleHas made me happy; me I hope she lookt for, Enter Chilax, and Cloe at the other doorFortune, I will so honour thee, Love, so adore thee.She is here again, looks round about her, again too,'Tis done, I know 'tis done; 'tis Chilax with her,And I shall know of him; who's that?Chi. Speak softly,The Princess from the Oracle.Si. She views me,By Heaven she beckons me.Chi. Come near, she wou'd have ye.Si. O royal Lady. [Kisses her hand.Chi. She wills ye read that, for belike she's bound to silenceFor such a time; she is wondrous gracious to ye.Si. Heav'n make me thankful.Chi. She would have ye read it. [He reads.Si. Siphax, the will of Heaven hath cast me on theeTo be thy Wife, whose Will must be obey'd:Use me with honour, I shall love thee dearly,And make thee understand thy worths hereafter;Convey me to a secret Ceremony,That both our hearts and loves may be united,And use no Language, till before my BrotherWe both appear, where I will shew the Oracle,For till that time I am bound, I must not answer.Si. O happy I!Chi. Ye are a made man.Si. But Chilax,Where are her Women?Chi. None but your Graces Sister,Because she would have it private to the World yet,Knows of this business.Si. I shall thank thee, Chilax,Thou art a careful man.Chi. Your Graces Servant.Si. I'll find a fit place for thee.Chi. If you will not,There's a good Lady will, she points ye forward,Away and take your fortune; not a word, Sir:So, you are greas'd I hope. [Ex. Si. and Cloe, manet Chilax. Enter Stremon, Fool, and BoyChi. Stremon, Fool, Picus,Where have you left your Lord?Strem. I' th' Temple, Chilax.Chi. Why are ye from him?Strem. Why, the King is with him,And all the Lords.Chi. Is not the Princess there too?Strem. Yes.And the strangest Coil amongst 'em; She weeps bitterly:The King entreats, and frowns, my Lord like AutumnDrops off his hopes by handfulls, all the TempleSweats with this Agony.Chi. Where's young Polydore?Strem. Dead, as they said, o' th' sudden.Chi. Dead?Strem. For certain,But not yet known abroad.Chi. There's a new trouble,A brave young man he was; but we must all dye.Strem. Did not the General meet you this morningLike a tall Stallion Nun?Chi. No more o' that, Boy.Strem. You had been ferretting.Chi. That's all one, Fool;My Master Fool that taught my wits to traffick,What has your Wisedom done? how have you profited?Out with your Audit: come, you are not empty,Put out mine eye with twelve-pence? do you shaker?What think you of this shaking? here's wit, Coxcomb,Ha Boys? ha my fine Rascals, here's a Ring, { Pulls out a Purse.How right they go!Fool. O let me ring the fore Bell.[Chi.] And here are thumpers, Chiqueens, golden rogues,Wit, wit, ye Rascals.Fool. I have a Stye here, Chilax.Chi. I have no Gold to cure it, not a penny,Not one cross, Cavalier; we are dull Souldiers,Gross heavy-headed fellows; fight for Victuals?Fool. Why, ye are the Spirits of the time.Chi. By no means.Fool. The valiant firie.Chi. Fie, fie, no.Fool. Be-lee me, Sir.Chi. I wou'd I cou'd, Sir.Fool. I will satisfie ye.Chi. But I will not content you; alas poor Boy,Thou shew'st an honest Nature, weepst for thy Master,There's a red Rogue to buy thee Handkerchiefs.Fool. He was an honest Gentleman, I have lost too.Chi. You have indeed your labour, Fool; but Stremon,Dost thou want money too? no Vertue living?No firking out at fingers ends?Strem. It seems so.Chi. Will ye all serve me?Strem. Yes, when ye are Lord General,For less I will not go.Chi. There's Gold for thee then,Thou hast a Souldiers mind. Fool —Fool. Here, your first man.Chi. I will give thee for thy Wit, for 'tis a fine wit,A dainty diving Wit, hold up, just nothing,Go graze i' th' Commons, yet I am merciful —There's six-pence: buy a Saucer, steal an old Gown,And beg i' th' Temple for a Prophet, come away Boys,Let's see how things are carried, Fool, up Sirrah,You may chance get a dinner: Boy, your prefermentI'll undertake, for your brave Masters sake,You shall not perish.Fool. Chilax.Chi. Please me well, Fool.And you shall light my pipes: away to the Temple.But stay, the King's here, sport upon sport, Boys. Enter King, Lords, Siphax kneeling, Cloe with a VailKing. What would you have, Captain?Speak suddenly, for I am wondrous busie.Si. A pardon, Royal Sir.King. For what?Si. For thatWhich was Heaven's Will, should not be mine alone, Sir;My marrying with this Lady.King. It needs no pardon,For Marriage is no Sin.Si. Not in it self, Sir;But in presuming too much: yet Heaven knows,So does the Oracle that cast it on me,And – the Princess, royal Sir.King. What Princess?Si. O be not angry my dread King, your Sister.King. My Sister; she's i' th' Temple, Man.Si. She is here, Sir.Lord. The Captain's mad, she's kneeling at the Altar.King. I know she is; with all my heart good Captain,I do forgive ye both: be unvail'd, Lady. [Puts off her Vail.Will ye have more forgiveness? the man's frantick,Come let's go bring her out: God give ye joy, Sir.Si. How, Cloe? my old Cloe? [Ex. King, Lords.Clo. Even the same, Sir.Chi. Gods give your manhood much content.Strem. The PrincessLooks something musty since her coming over.Fool. 'Twere good you'd brush her over.Si. Fools and FidlersMake sport at my abuse too?Fool. O 'tis the NatureOf us Fools to make bold with one another,But you are wise, brave sirs.Chi. Cheer up your Princess,Believe it Sir, the King will not be angry,Or say he were; why, 'twas the Oracle.The Oracle, an't like your Grace, the Oracle.Strem. And who, most mighty Siphax?Siph. With mine own whore.Cloe. With whom else should ye marry, speak your conscience,Will ye transgress the law of Arms, that everRewards the Souldier with his own sins?Siph. Devils.Cloe. Ye had my maiden-head, my youth, my sweetness,Is it not justice then? —Siph. I see it must be,But by this hand, I'le hang a lock upon thee.Cloe. You shall not need, my honesty shall doe it.Siph. If there be wars in all the world —Cloe. I'le with ye,For you know I have been a Souldier,Come, curse on: when I need another Oracle.Chi. Send for me Siphax, I'le fit ye with a Princess,And so to both your honours.Fool. And your graces.Siph. The Devil grace ye all.Cloe. God a mercy Chilax.Chi. Shall we laugh half an hour now?Strem. No the King comes,And all the train.Chi. Away then, our Act's ended. [Exeunt. Enter King, Calis, Memnon, and Cleanthe, LordsKing. You know he do's deserve ye, loves ye dearly,You know what bloody violence had us'd { The Hearse ready, Polydor, Eumenes & Captains.Upon himself, but that his Brother crost it,You know the same thoughts still inhabit in himAnd covet to take birth: Look on him Lady,The wars have not so far consum'd him yet,Cold age disabled him, or sickness sunk himTo be abhorr'd: look on his Honour Sister,That bears no stamp of time, no wrinkles on it,No sad demolishment, nor death can reach it:Look with the eyes of Heaven that nightly waken,To view the wonders of the glorious Maker,And not the weakness: look with your vertuous eyes,And then clad royaltie in all his conquests,His matchless love hung with a thousand merits,Eternal youth attending, Fame and Fortune,Time and Oblivion vexing at his vertues,He shall appear a miracle: look on our dangers,Look on the publick ruin.Calis. O, dear Brother.King. Fie, let us not like proud and greedy watersGain to give off again: this is our Sea,And you his Cynthia, govern him, take heed,His flouds have been as high, and full as any,And gloriously now is got up to the girdle,The Kingdomes he hath purchas'd; noble Sister,Take not your vertue from him, O take heedWe ebbe not now to nothing, take heed Calis.Calis. The will of Heaven not mine, which must not alter,And my eternal doom for ought I knowIs fixt upon me; alas, I must love nothing,Nothing that loves again must I be blest with:The gentle Vine climbs up the Oke and clips him,And when the stroke comes, yet they fall together;Death, death must I enjoy, and live to love him,O noble Sir!Mem. Those tears are some reward yet,Pray let me wed your sorrows.Calis. Take 'em Souldier,They are fruitfull ones, lay but a sigh upon 'em,And straight they will conceive to infinites;I told ye what ye would find 'em. Enter Funeral, Captains following, and EumenesKing. How now, what's this? more drops to th' Ocean?Whose body's this?Eum. The noble Polydor,This speaks his death.Mem. My Brother dead?Calis. O Goddess!O cruel, cruel Venus, here's my fortune.King. Read Captain.Mem. Read aloud: farewel my follies.[Eumen. reads to the Excellent Princess Calis.Eum. Be wise, as you are beauteous, love with judgement,And look with clear eyes on my noble Brother,Value desert and vertue, they are Jewels,Fit for your worth and wearing: take heed Lady,The Gods reward ingratitude most grievous;Remember me no more, or if you must,Seek me in noble Memnons love, I dwell there:I durst not live, because I durst not wrong him,I can no more, make me eternal happyWith looking down upon your loves. Farewel.Mem. And did'st thou die for me?King. Excellent vertue!What will ye now doe?Calis. Dwell for ever here Sir.Mem. For me dear Polydor? O worthy young man!O love, love, love, love above recompence!Infinite love, infinite honesty!Good Lady leave, you must have no share here,Take home your sorrows: here's enough to store me,Brave glorious griefs! was ever such a Brother?Turn all the stories over in the world yet,And search through all the memories of mankind,And find me such a friend; h'as out done all,Outstript 'em sheerly, all, all, thou hast Polydor,To die for me; why, as I hope for happiness,'Twas one of the rarest thought on things,The bravest, and carried beyond compass of our actions,I wonder how he hit it, a young man too,In all the blossomes of his youth and beautie,In all the fulness of his veins and wishesWoo'd by that Paradise, that would catch Heaven;It starts me extreamly, thou blest Ashes,Thou faithfull monument, where love and friendshipShall while the world is, work new miracles.Calis. O! let me speak too.Mem. No not yet; thou man,(For we are but mans shadows,) only man,I have not words to utter him; speak Lady,I'le think a while.Calis. The Goddess grants me this yet,I shall enjoy the dead: no tomb shall hold theeBut these two arms, no Trickments but my tearsOver thy Hearse, my sorrows like sad armsShall hang for ever: on the tuffest MarbleMine eyes shall weep thee out an Epitaph,Love at thy feet shall kneel, his smart bow broken;Faith at thy head, youth and the Graces mourners;O sweet young man!King. Now I begin to melt too.Mem. Have ye enough yet Lady? room for a gamester.To my fond Love, and all those idle fanciesA long farewel, thou diedst for me dear Polydor,To give me peace, thou hast eternal glory,I stay and talk here; I will kiss thee first,And now I'le follow thee. [Polydor rises.Pol. Hold, for Heavens sake!Mem. Ha!Does he live?Dost thou deceive me?Pol. Thus far,Yet for your good, and honour.King. Now dear Sister.Calis. The Oracle is ended, noble Sir,Dispose me now as you please.Pol. You are mine then?Calis. With all the joyes that may be.Pol. Your consent Sir?King. Ye have it freely.Pol. Walk along with me then,And as you love me, love my will.Calis. I will so.Pol. Here worthy Brother, take this vertuous Princess,Ye have deserv'd her nobly, she will love ye,And when my life shall bring ye peace, as she does,Command it, ye shall have it.Mem. Sir, I thank ye.King. I never found such goodness in such years.Mem. Thou shalt not over-doe me, though I die for't,O how I love thy goodness, my best Brother,You have given me here a treasure to enrich me,Would make the worthiest King alive a begger,What may I give you back again?Pol. Your love Sir.Mem. And you shall have it, even my dearest love,My first, my noblest love, take her again, Sir,She is yours, your honesty has over-run me,She loves ye, lose her not: excellent Princess,Injoy thy wish, and now get Generals.Pol. As ye love heaven, love him, she is only yours, Sir.Mem. As ye love heaven, love him, she is only yours, Sir;My Lord, the King.Pol. He will undoe himself Sir,And must without her perish; who shall fight then?Who shall protect your Kingdom?Mem. Give me hearing,And after that, belief, were she my soul(As I do love her equal) all my victories,And all the living names I have gain'd by war,And loving him that good, that vertuous good man,That only worthy of the name of Brother,I would resign all freely, 'tis all loveTo me, all marriage rites, the joy or issuesTo know him fruitfull, that has been so faithfull.King. This is the noblest difference; take your choice Sister.Calis. I see they are so brave, and noble both,I know not which to look on.Pol. Chuse discreetly,And vertue guide ye, there all the world in one manStands at the mark.Mem. There all mans honestie,The sweetness of all youth —Cal. O God's!Mem. My Armour,By all the God's she's yours; my Arms, I say,And I beseech your Grace, give me imployment,That shall be now my Mistress, there my Courtship.King. Ye shall have any thing.Mem. Vertuous Lady,Remember me, your Servant now; Young man,You cannot over-reach me in your goodness;O love! how sweet thou look'st now! and how gentle!I should have slubber'd thee, and stain'd thy beauty;Your hand, your hand Sir!King. Take her, and Heaven bless her.Mem. So.Pol. 'Tis your will Sir, nothing of my merit;And as your royal gift, I take this blessing.Cal. And I from heaven this gentleman: thanks Goddess.Mem. So ye are pleas'd now Lady?Calis. Now or never.Mem. My cold stiffe carkass would have frozen ye,Wars, wars.King. Ye shall have wars.Mem. My next brave battelI dedicate to your bright honour, Sister,Give me a favour, that the world may knowI am your Souldier.Calis. This, and all fair Fortunes.Mem. And he that bears this from me, must strike boldly. [Cleanthe kneeling.Calis. I do forgive thee: be honest; no more wench.King. Come now to Revels, this blest day shall proveThe happy crown of noble Faith and Love. [Exeunt.