The bloody brother A tragedy. By B.J.F.

The drinking Song, to the second Act.

Drink to day and drowne all sorrow, You shall perhaps not doe it to morrow. Best while you have it use your breath, There is no drinking after death.

Wine works the heart up, wakes the wi••, There is no cure gainst age but it. It helps the head-ach, cough and tissick, And is for all diseases Physick.

Then let us swill boyes for our health, Who drinks well, loves the common wealth. And he that will to bed goe sober, Falls with the leafe still in October.

Finis.

THE BLOODY BROTHER.

Act I. Scene I.

Enter Gisbert and Baldwin.

THe brothers then are mett?

Gis.

They are, sir.

Bald.

'Tis thought, they may be reconcil'd.

Gis.

Tis rather wish't, for such, whose reason doth direct their thoughts without selfe flattery•• dare not hope it, Baldwin.

The fires of Love, which the dead Duke beleev'd His equall care of both would have united, Ambition hath divided: and there are Too many on both parts, that know they cannot Or rise to wealth or honour, their maine ends, Unlesse the tempest of the Princes fury Make troubled seas, and those seas yeeld fit billowes In their bad arts to give way to a calme,

Which yeilding rest and good, prove their ruine, And in the shipwrack of their hopes and fortunes, The Dukedome might be sav'd, had it but ten That stood affected to the generall good, With that confirm'd zeale which brave Aubrey does.

Gis.

Hee is indeed the perfect character Of a good man, and so his actions speak him.

Bald.

But did you observe the many doubts, and c••ution•• The brothers stood upon before they mett?

Gis.

I did; and yet, that ever brother should Stand on more nice termes, than sworn enemies After a warre proclaim'd, would with a stranger Wrong the reporters credit; they saluted At distance; and so strong was the suspition Each had of other, that before they durst Embrace, they were by sev'rall servants searcht, As doubting conceal'd weapons, antidotes Tane openly by both, fearing the roome Appoynted for the enter-view was poyson'd, The chaires, and cushions, with like care survay'd; And in a word in every circumstance So jealous on both parts, that it is more Than to be fear'd, Concord can never joyne Minds so divided.

Bald.

Yet our best endeavours Should not bee wanting, Gisbert.

Gis.

Neither shall they.

Ent. Grandpree and Verdon

But what are these?

Bald.

They are without my knowledge; But by their Manners, and Behaviours, They should expresse themselves.

Grand.

Since wee serve Rol••o The Elder brother, we••le be Rollians, Who will maintaine us, l••ds, as brave as Romans; You stand for him?

Ver.

I doe.

Gra••d.

Why, then observe

How much the businesse, your so long'd for businesse, By men that are nam'd from their swords concernes you. Lechery, our common freind, so long kept under, With whips, and beating fatall hemps, shall rise, And bawdery, in a French-hood plead, before her Virginity shall be catted.

Ver.

Excellent!

Grand.

And Hell but grant, the quarrell that's between The Princes may continue, and the businesse That's of the sword, t'outlast three suits in Law, And we will make Atturnies lansprisadoes, And our brave gown-men practisers of back-sword; The pewter of all Serjeants maces shall Be melted, and turn'd into common flaggons, In which it shall be lawfull to carouse To their most lowsie fortunes.

Bald.

Here's a Statesman.

Grand.

A creditor shall not•• dare, but by petition, To make demand of any dept; and that Only once every leap-yeere, in which, if The debtor may be won for a French crowne To pay a Saulz, hee shall be registred His benefactor.

Ver.

The Chancellor heares you.

Grand.

Feare not, I now dare speak as loud as hee, And will be heard, and have all I speak, Law; Have you no eyes? there is a reverence due, From children of the Gown, to men of Action: How's this?

Grand.

Even so; the times, the times are chang'd All businesse is not now preferrd in parchment, Nor shall a grant passe that wants this broad seale; This seale d'ye see? your gravity once layd My head and heeles together in the dungeon, For cracking a scall'd officers crowne, for which A time is come for vengeance, and expect it; For know, you have not full three houres to live.

Gis.

Yes, somewhat longer.

Gran.

To what end?

Gis.

To hang you; think on that Ruffian.

Gran.

For you, schoolemaster, You have a pretty daughter; let me see, Neere three a clock, (by which time I much feare, I shall be••yrd with kil••ing some five hundred) Provide a bath, and her to entertaine me, And that shall be your ransome.

Bald.

Impudent Rascall.

Enter to them Trevi••e and Duprete.

Gis.

More of the crew.

Gran.

What are you? Rollians?

Tre.

No; this for Rollo, and all such as serve him; We stand for Otto.

Gran.

You seeme men of fashion, And therefore I'le deale fairely, you shall have The honour this day to be chronicled The first men kild by Grandpree; you see this sword•• A pretty foolish toy, my valour's servant, And I may boldly say a gentleman, It having made when it was Charlemaignes, Three thousand knights; this sir, shall cut your throat, And doe you all faire service else.

Tre.

I kisse your hands for the good offer; here's another too, the servant of your servant•• shall be proud to be scour'd in your sweet gutts; till when pray you command me.

Gran.

Your Idolater, ••ir.

Exeunt: manent Gisb. & Bald.

Gis.

That e're such should hold the names of men, Or Justice be held cruelty, when it labours To pluck such weeds up!

Bald.

Yet they are protected, and by the great ones.

Gis.

Not the good ones, Baldwin.

Enter to them Aubrey.

Aub.

Is this a time to be spent thus by such As are the principall ministers of the State? When they that are the h••ads, have filld the Court

With factions, a weake woman only left To s••ay their bloody hands? can her weake armes Alone divert the dangers ready now ••o fall upon the Common-wealth, and bury The honours of it, leaving not the name Of what it was. Oh Gisbert, the faire trialls And frequent proofs which our late master made, Both of your love and faith, gave him assurance, To chuse you at his death a Guardian; nay, A father to his sons; and that great trust How ill doe you discharge? I must be plaine, That, at the best, y' are a sad looker on Of those bad practices you should prevent•• And where's the use of your Philosophy In this so needfull a time? be not secure; For, Baldwin, be assur'd, since that the Princes When they were young, and apt for any forme, Were given to your instruction, and grave ordering; 'Twill be expected that they should be good, Or their bad manners will b' imputed yours.

Bald.

'Twas not in one, my Lord, to alter nature,

Gis.

Nor can my counsells work on them that will ••o. Vouchsafe me hearing.

Aub.

Doe these answers sort, Or with your place, or persons, or your yeeres; Can Gi••bert being the pillar of the Lawes, See them trod under foot, or forc'd to serve The Princes unjust ends; and with a frowne Be silenc'd from exclaiming on th'abuse; Or Baldwin only weep the desp'rate madnesse Of his seduced pupills? see their minds, Which with good artes he labour'd to build up Examples of succeeding Times, o'returnd By undermining parasites; no one precept Leading to any Arte, or great, or good, But is forc'd from their memory, in whose roome Black councells are receiv'd, and their retirements,

And secret conference producing only Dev'lish designes, a man would shame to father; But I talk when I should doe, and chide others For that I now offend in: See't confirm'd, Now doe, or never speak more.

Gis.

We are yours.

Enter Rollo, Latorch, Trevile, Grandpree, Otto, Verdon, and Duprete.

Rol.

You shall know whom I am.

Ot.

I doe, my equall.

Rol.

Thy Prince•• give way,—were we alone, I'de force thee, In thy best blood, to write thy selfe my subject, And glad I would receive it.

Aub.

Sir.

Gis.

Deare Lord.

Ot.

Thy subject?

Rol.

Yes, nor shall tame patience hold me A minute longer, only halfe my selfe; My birth gave me this Dukedome, and my sword Shall change it to the common grave of all That tread upon her bosome, ere I part with A peece of earth, or title that is mine.

Ot.

It needs not, and I would scorne to receive, Though offerd, what I want not: therefore know From me, though not deliver'd in great words, Eyes red with rage, poore pride, and threatned action: Our father at his death, then, when no accent, Wer't thou a son, could fall from him in vaine, Made us Coheires•• our part of Land and Honours Of equall waight; and to see this confirm'd, The oaths of these are yet upon record, Who though they should forsake me, and call downe The plagues of perjury on their sinfull heads, I would not leave my selfe.

Tre.

Nor will we see the Will of the dead Duke infring'd.

Lat.

Nor I the elder rob'd of what's his right.

Grand.

Nor you? Let me take place, I say, I will not see't; My sword is sharpest.

Aub.

Peace you tinder-boxes, That only carry matter to make a flame Which will consume you.

Rol.

You are troublesome,

To Baldwi••••

This is no time for arguments, my Title Needs not your schoole-defences, but my sword, With which the Gordian of your Sophistry Being cut, shall shew th' Imposture. For your laws,

To Gis∣bert.

It is in me to change them when I please, I being above them; Gisbert would you have me protect them•• Let them now stretch their extreamest rigour, And seize upon that traytour; and your tongue Make him appeare first dangerous, then odious; And after, under the pretence of safety, For the sick State, the Lands and Peoples quiet, Cut off his head: and I'le give up my sword, And fight with them at a more certain weapon To kill, and with authoritie.

Gis.

Sir, I grant the Laws are usefull weapons, but found ou•• T'assure the Innocent, not to oppresse.

Rol.

Then you conclude him Innocent?

Gis.

The Power your father gave him, must not prove a Crime,

Aub.

Nor should you so receive it.

Bald.

To which purpose, All that dare challenge any part in goodnesse, Will become suppliants to you.

Rol.

They have none That dare move me in this; hence, I defie you, Be of his party, bring it to your lawes, And thou thy double heart, thou popular foole, Your morall rules of Justice and her ballance; I stand on mine owne guard.

Ot.

Which thy injustice Will make thy enemies; by the memory

Of him, whose better part now suffers for thee, Whose reverend ashes with an impious hand Thou throw'st out to contempt, in thy repining At his so Just decree; thou art unworthy Of what his last Will, not thy merits, gave thee, That art so swoln•• within, with all those mischiefes That e're made up a Tyrant, that thy brest, The prison of thy purposes, cannot hold them, But that they break forth, and in thy ow••e words Discover, what a monster they must serve That shall acknowledge thee.

Rol.

* 1.1Thou shalt not live to be so happy.

Aub.

Nor your miseries begin in murther, Duty, allegeance, and all respects of what you are, forsake me: Doe you stare on? is this a Theater? Or shall these kill themselves, like to mad fencers, To make you sport? keep them asunder, or By heaven I'le charge on all.

Grand.

Keep the peace. I am for you, my lord, and if you'le have mee, I'le act the Constables part.

Aub.

Live I to see this? Will you doe that your enemies dare not wish, And cherish in your selves those furies, which Hell would cast out? Doe, I am ready•• kill mee, And these, that would fall willing sacrifices To any power that would re••tore your reason, And make you men againe, which now you are not••

Rol.

These are your bucklers boy.

Ot.

My hinderances; And were I not confirm'd, my Justice in The taking of thy life, could not weigh downe The wrong, in shedding the least drop of blood Of these whose goodnesse only now protects thee, Thou should'st feele I in act would prove my selfe What thou in words do'st labour to appeare.

Rol.

Heare this, and talke againe? I'le break through all••

But I will reach thy heart.

Ot.

'Tis bettes guarded.

Enter Sophia.

Soph.

Make way, or I will force it, who are those•• My sonnes? my shames; turne all your swords on mee, And make this wretched body but one wound, So this unnaturall quarrell find a grave In the unhappy wombe that brought you forth: Dare you remember that you had a mother, Or look on these gray haires, made so with teares, For both your goods, and not with age; an•• yet Stand doubtfull to obey her? from mee you had Life, nerves, and faculties, to use these weapons; And dare you raise them against her, to whom You owe the meanes of being what you are?

Ot.

All peace is meant to you.

Soph.

Why is this warre, then? As if your armes could be advanc'd, and I Not set upon the rack? your blood is mine, Your dangers mine, your goodnesse I should share in•• I must be branded with those impious markes You stamp on your own foreheads and on mine, If you goe on thus: for my good name therefore, Though all respects of honour in your selves, Bee in your fury choackt, throw down your swords; Your duty should beswifter than my tongue; And joyne your hands while they be innocent; You have heate of blood, and youth apt to Ambition, To plead an easie pardon for what's past: But all the ills beyond this houre committed, From gods or men must hope for no excuse,

Gis.

Can you heare this unmov'd, No syllable of this so pious charme, but should have powe•• To frustrate all the juggling deceits, With which the divell blinds you.

Ot.

I begin to melt, I know not how.

Rol.

Mother, I'le leave you; And sir, be thankfull for the time you live, Till wee meeet next (which shall bee soon and sudden) To her perswasion for you.

Soph.

O yet, stay, And rather than part thus, vouchsafe mee hearing As enemies; how is my soule divided? My love to both, is equall, as my wishes; But are return'd by neither; my griev'd heart, Hold yer a little longer, and then break. I kneele to both, and will speak so, but this Takes from mee th' authority of a mothers power; And therefore, like my selfe, Otto, to thee, (And yet observe, son, how thy mothers teares Outstrip her forward words, to make way for'em.) Thou art the yonger, Otto, yet be now The first example of obedience to mee, And grow the elder in my love.

Ot.

The meanes to be so happy?

Soph.

This; yeeld up thy sword, And let thy piety give thy mother strength To take that from thee which no enemies force Could e're dispoyle thee of: why do'st thou tremble, And with a fearefull eye fixt on thy brother, Observ'st his ready sword, as bent against thee? I am thy armour, and will be pierc'd through, Ten thousand times, before I will give way To any perill may arrive at thee; And therefore feare not.

Ot.

'Tis not for my selfe, But for you, mother; you are now ingag'd In more that lies in your unquestion'd vertue; For, since you have disarm'd me of defence, Should I fall now, though by his hand, the world May say it was your practise.

Soph.

All worlds perish, Before my piety turne treasons parent,

Take it againe, and stand upon your guard, And while your brother is, continue arm'd; And yet, this feare is needlesse, for I know, My Rollo, though hee dares as much as man, So tender of his yet untainted valour, So noble, that he dares doe nothing basely. You doubt him; he feares you; I doubt and feare Both; for others safety, and not mine owne. Know yet, my sons, when of necessity You must deceive, or be deceiv'd; 'tis better To suffer treason, than to act the traytor; And in a war like this, in which the glory Is his that's overcome: consider then What 'tis for which you strive: is it the dukedome? Or the command of these so ready subjects? Desire of wealth? or whatsoever else Fires your ambition? This still desp'rate madnesse, To kill the people which you would be lords of; With fire, and sword, to lay that countrey waste Whose rule you seeke for: to consume the treasures, Which are the sinewes of your government, In cherishing the factions that destroy it: Far, far be this from you: make it not questiond Whether you have intrest in that dukedome, Whose ruine both contend for.

Ot.

I desire but to enjoy my owne, which I will keep.

Rol.

And rather than posterity shall have cause To say I ruin'd all, devide the dukedome, I will accept the moytie.

Ot.

I embrace it.

Soph.

Devide mee first, or teare mee limbe by limbe, And let them finde as many severall graves As there are villages in Normandy: And 'tis lesse sinne than thus to weaken it. To heare it mentiond doth already make mee Envie my dead lord, and almost blaspheme Those powers that heard my prayer for fruitfullnesse,

And did not with my first birth close my wombe: To mee alone my second blessing proves My first of misery, for if that heaven Which gave mee Rollo, there had stayd his bounty, And Otto, my deare Otto, ne're had been, Or being, had not been so worth my love, The streame of my affection had runne constant Iu one faire current, all my hopes had been Layd up in one; and fruitfull Normandy In this division had not lost her gloryes: For as tis now, tis a faire diamond, Which being preserv'd intire, exceeds all value, But cut in peeces (though these peeces are Set in fine gold by the best work-mans cunning) Parts with all estimation: So this Dukedome, As 'tis yet whole, the neighbouring Kings may covet, But cannot compasse; which divided, will Become the spoile of every barbarous foe That will invade it.

Gis.

How this works in both!

Bal.

Prince Rollos eyes have lost their fire.

Gis.

And anger, that but now wholly possessed Good Otto, hath given place to pitie.

Aub.

End not thus Madam, but perfect what's so well begun.

Soph.

I see in both, faire signes of reconcilement, Make ••hem sure proofes they are so: the Fates offer To your free choyce, either to live Examples Of pietie, or wickednesse: if the later Blinds so your understanding, that you cannot Pierce through her painted out-side, and discover That she is all deformity within, Boldly transcend all presidents of mischiefe, And let the last, and the worst end of tyrannies, The murther of a mother, but begin The staine of blood you after are to heighten: But if that vertue, and her sure rewards, Can win you to accept her for your guide,

To lead you up to heaven, and there fix you The fairest Starres in the bright Spheare of Honour; Make me the parent of an hundred sonnes, All brought into the world with joy, not sorrow, And every one a father to his countrey, In being now made mother of your concord.

Rol.

Such, and so good, loud fame for ever speake you.

Bal.

I, now they meet like Brothers.

The Brothers cast away their swords and em∣brace.

Gis.

My hearts joy flows through my eyes.

Aub.

May never womans tongue Hereafter be accus'd, for this ones Goodnesse.

Ot.

If we contend, from this houre, it shall be How to orecome in brotherly affection.

Rol.

Otto is Rollo now, and Rollo, Otto, Or as they have one mind, rather one name: From this attonement let our lives begin, Be all the rest forgotten.

Aub.

Spoke like Rollo.

Soph.

And to the honour of this reconcilement, Wee all this night will at a publick Feast With choice wines drowne our late feares, and with musick Welcome our comforts.

Bald.

Sure and certaine ones.

Exeunt.

Manent Grandpree, Verdon, Trevile, and Duprete.

Gran.

Did ever such a hopefull businesse end t••us?

Ver.

Tis fatall to us all, and yet you Grandpree, Have the least cause to feare.

Gran.

Why; what's my hope?

Ver.

The certainty that you have to be hang'd•• You know the Chancellours promise.

Gran.

Plague upon you.

Ver.

What think you of a Bath and a Lords daughter To entertaine you?

Gran.

Those desires are off. Frayle thoughts, all friends, no Rollians now, nor Ottoes•• The sev'rall court••sies of our swords and servants

Deferre to after consequence; let's make use Of this nights freedome, a short Parlament to us, In which it will be lawfull to walk freely. Nay, to our drink we shall have meat too, that's No usuall businesse to the men o'th'sword. Drink deep with me to night, we shall to morrow Or whip, or hang the merryer.

Tre.

Lead the way then.

Exeunt.

Act II. Scene I.

Enter La••orch and Rollo.

VVHy should this trouble you?

Rol.

It does, and must doe till I find ease.

Lat.

Consider then, and quickly; And like a wise man, take the current with you, Which once turn'd head, will sinke you; blest occasion Offers her selfe in thousand safeties to you; Time standing still to point you out your purpose, And resolution (the true child of Vertue) Readie to execute: what dull cold weaknesse Has crept into your bosome, whose meere thoughts Like tempests, plowing up the sayling Forrests, Even with their swing were wont to shake downe hazards. What is't, your mothers teares?

Rol.

Pry thee be patient.

Lat.

Her hands held up? her prayers, or her curses? Oh power of paper dropt through by a woman! Take heed the ••ouldiers see it not; 'tis miserable, In Rollo below miserable; take heed your friends, The sinewes of your cause, the strength you stirre by, Take heed, I say, they find it not: take heed Your owne repentance (like a passing-bell)

Too late, and too loud, tell the world y'are perisht: What noble spirit, eager of advancement, Whose imployment is his plough; what sword whose sharpnesse Waits but the arme to weild it; or what hope, After the world has blowne abroad this weaknesse, Will move againe, or make a wish for Rollo?

Rol.

Are we not friends againe by each oath ratified, Our tongues the Heralds to our hearts?

Lat.

Poore hearts then.

Rol.

Our worthier friends.

Lat.

No friends sir, to your hono••r; Friends to your fall: where is your understanding, The noble vessell that your full soule sayld in, Ribb'd round with honours; where is that? 'tis ruind, The tempest of a womans sighs has sunk it. Friendship, take heed sir, is a smiling harlot That when shee kisses, kills, a soderd friendship Peec'd out with promises; O painted ruine!

Rol.

Latorch, he is my brother.

Lat.

The more doubted; For hatred hatcht at home is a tame Tiger, May fawne and sport but never leaves his nature; The jarres of brothers, two such mighty ones, Is like a small stone throwne into a river, The breach scarce heard, but view the beaten current, And you shall see a thousand angry rings Rise in his face, still swelling and still growing; So jarres circling distrusts, distrusts breed dangers, And dangers death, the greatest extreme shadow, Till nothing bound 'hem but the shoare their graves; There is no manly wisedome, nor no safety In leaning to this league, this peec'd patch friendship; This reard up reconcilement on a billow, Which as it tumbles, totters downe your fortune; Ist not your owne you reach at? Law and Nature Ushering the way before you; is not hee Borne and bequeathd your subject?

Rol.

Ha.

Lat.

What foole would give a storme leave to disturb his peace•• When he may shut the casement? can that man Has woon so much upon your pity, And drawne so high, that like an ominous Comet, He darkens all your light; can this toucht Lyon (Though now he licks and locks up his fell pawes, Craftily huming, like a catt to cozen you) But when ambition whetts him, and time fitts him, Leape to his prey, and seizd once, suck your heart out? Doe you make it conscience?

Rol.

Conscience Latorch, what's that?

Lat.

A feare they tye up fooles in, Natures coward, Pauling the blood, and chilling the full spirit With apprehension of meere clouds and shadowes.

Rol.

I know no conscience, nor I feare no shadowes.

Lat.

Or if you did; if there were conscience, If the free soule could suffer such a curbe To the fiery mind, such puddles to put it out; Must it needs like a rank Vine, run up rudely, And twine about the top of all our happinesse Honour and rule, and there sit shaking of us?

Rol.

It shall not, nor it must not; I am satisfied, And once more am my selfe againe: My mothers teares and womanish cold prayers, Farewell, I have forgot you; if there be conscience, Let it not come betwixt a crowne and me, Which is my hope of blisse, and I beleeve it: Otto, our friendship thus I blow to ayre, A buble for a boy to play withall; And all the vowes my weaknesse made, like this, Like this poore heartlesse rush, I rend in peeces:

Lat.

Now you goe right, sir, now your eyes are open.

Rol.

My fathers last petition's dead as he is, And all the promises I closd his eyes with, In the same grave I bury.

Lat.

Now y' are a man, sir.

Rol.

Otto, thou shewst my winding sheet before me, Which ere I put it on, like heavens blest fire In my descent Ile make it blush in blood; A Crowne, A Crowne, Oh sacred Rule, now fire mee; Nor shall the pitty of thy youth, false brother, Although a thousand Virgins kneele before mee, And every droping eye a court of mercy, The same blood with me, nor the reverence Due to my mothers blest womb that bred us, Redeeme thee from my doubts: thou art a wolfe here, Fed with my feares, and I must cut thee from me: A Crowne, A Crowne; Oh sacred Rule, now fire me: No safety else.

Lat.

But be not too much stird, Sir, nor to high In your execution: swallowing waters Run deep and silent, till they are satisfied, And smile in thousand Curles, to guild their craft; Let your sword sleep, and let my two edgd witt work This happy feast, the full joy of your friendships Shall be his last.

Rol.

How my Latorch?

Lat.

Why thus, sir; Ile presently go dive into the Officers That minister at Table•• gold and goodnesse, With promise upon promise, and time necessary, Ile poure into them.

Rol.

Canst thou doe it neatly?

Lat.

Let me alone, and such a bait it shall be, Shall take off all suspicion.

Rol.

Goe, and prosper.

Lat.

Walk in then, and your smoothest face put on sir.

Exeunt.

Act II. Scene II.

Enter the Master Cook, Butler, Pantler, Yeoman of the Cellar, with a Iack of Beere and a Dish.

Coo.

A Hot day, a hot day, vengeance hot day boyes•• Give me some drink, this fire's a plaguy fretter••

Body of me, I'm dry still; give me the Iack boy; This woodden Skiffe holds nothing.

Pant.

And faith master, what brave new meats? for here will be old eating.

Coo.

Old and young, boy, let 'em all eat, I have it; I have ballasse for their bellies, if they eate a gods name, Let them have ten tire of teeth a peice, I care not;

But.

But what new rare munition?

Coo.

Pish, a thousand; Ile make you piggs speake French at table, and a fat swan Come sayling out of England with a challenge; Ile make you a dish of calves-feet dance the Canaries, And a consort of cramm'd capons fiddle to 'hem; A calves head speak an Oracle, and a dozen of Larks Rise from the dish, and sing all supper time; Tis nothing boyes: I have framed a fortification Out of Rye paste, which is impregnable, And against that, for two long houres together, Two dozen of marrow-bones shall play continually: For fish, Ile make you a standing lake of white broth, And pikes come ploughing up the plums before them; Arion, like a Dolphin, playing Lachrymae, And brave king Herring with his oyle and onyon Crownd with a Limon pill, his way prepard With his strong Guard of Pilchers.

Pant.

I marry master.

Coo.

All these are nothing: Ile make you a stubble Goose Turne o'th' toe thrice, doe a crosse point presently, And sit downe agen, and cry come eat me: These are for mirth. Now sir, for matter of mourning, Ile bring you in the Lady Loyne of Veale, With the long love she bore the Prince of Orenge.

All.

Thou boy, thou.

Coo.

I have a trick for thee too, And a rare trick, and I have done it for thee.

Yeo.

What's that good master?

Coo.

'Tis a sacrifice.

A full Vine bending, like an Arch, and under The blowne god Bacchus, sitting on a Hogshead, His Altar Beere: before that, a plumpe Vintner Kneeling, and offring incense to his deitie, Which shall be only this, red Sprats and Pilchers.

But.

This when the Table's drawne, to draw the Wine on.

Coo.

Thou hast it right, and then comes thy Song, Butler.

Pant.

This will be admirable.

Yeo.

Oh sir, most admirable.

Coo.

If youle have the pasty speak, 'tis in my power, I have fire enough to work it; come, stand close, And now rehearse the Song, We may be perfect, The drinking Song, and say I were the Brothers.

They sing.

Well have you borne your selves; a red Deare Pye, Boyes, And that no leane one, I bequeath your vertues; What friends hast thou to day? no citizens?

Pant.

Yes father, the old Crew.

Coo.

By the masse true wenches: Sirra, set by a chine of Beefe, and a hot Pasty, And let the Joll of Sturgeon be corrected: And doe you marke sir, stalke me to a Pheasant, And see if you can shoot her in the Sellar.

Pant.

God a mercy Lad, send me thy roaring bottles, And with such Nectar I will see 'em filld•• That all thou speak'st shall be pure Helicon.

Enter Latorche.

Monsieur Latorche? what newes with him? Save you.

Lat.

Save you Master, save you gentlemen, You are casting for this preparation; This joyfull supper for the royall Brothers: I'm glad I have met you fitly, for to your charge My bountifull brave Butler, I must deliver A Bevie of young Lasses, that must looke on This nights solemnity, and see the two Dukes, Or I shall lose my credit; you have Stowage?

But.

For such freight Ile find roome, and be your servant.

Coo.

Bring them, they shal not starve here Ile send'em victuals Shall work you a good turne, though't be tend a yes hence, sir.

Lat.

God-a-mercy noble Master.

Coo.

Nay, Ile do't.

Yeo.

And wine they shal not want, let'em drink like Ducks.

Lat.

What misery it is that minds so royall, And such most honest bounties, as yours are, Should be confind thus to uncertainties.

But.

I, were the State once setled, then we had places.

Yeo.

Then we could shew our selves, and help our friends, sir.

Coo.

I, then there were some savour in't, where now We live between two stooles, every houre ready To tumble on our noses; and for ought we know yet, For all this Supper, ready to fa••t the next day.

Lat.

I would faine speak unto you out of pitie, Out of the love I beare you, out of honesty, For your owne goods; nay, for the generall blessing.

Coo.

And we would as faine heare you, pray goe forward.

Lat

Dare you but think to make your selves up certainties Your places, and your credits ten times doubled, The Princes favour, Rollos.

But.

A sweet Gentleman.

Yeo.

I, and as bountious, if he had his right too.

Coo.

By the masse, a Royall gentleman, indeed Boyes, He`de make the chinmeyes smoake.

Lat.

He would do`t friends, And you too, if he had his right, true Courtiers; What could you want then? dare you?

Coo.

Pray you be short sir.

Lat.

And this my soule upon't, I dare assure you, If you but dare your parts.

Coo.

Dare not mee Monsieur: For I that feare nor fire, nor water, sir, Dare doe enough, a man would think.

Yeo.

Beleev't, sir, But make this good upon us you have promis'd,

You shall not find us flinchers.

Lat.

Then Ile be sudden.

Pant.

What may this mean? and whither would he drive us?

Lat.

And first, for what you must doe, because all danger Shall be apparantly ty'd up and mussell'd, The matter seeming mighty: there's your pardons.

Pant.

Pardons? I'st come to that, gods defend us.

Lat.

And here's five hundred Crownes in bountious earnest, And now behold the matter.

But.

What are these, sir?

Yeo.

And of what nature? to what use?

Lat.

I imagine.

Coo.

Will they kill Rats? they eat my pyes abominably•• Or work upon a woman cold as Christmas: I have an old Jade sticks upon my fingers, May I taste them?

Lat.

Is your will made? And have you said your prayers? for theyle pay you: And now to come up to you, for your knowledge, And for the good you never shall repent you If you be wisemen now.

Coo.

Wise as you will, sir.

Lat.

These must be put then into the severall meats Young Otto loves, by you into his wine, sir, Into his bread by you, Into his linnen. Now if you desire, you have found the meanes To make you, and if you dare not, you have Found your ruine; resolve me ere you goe.

But.

Youle keepe your faith with us.

Lat.

May I no more see light else

Coo.

Why tis done then?

But.

Tis done.

Pant.

Tis done which shall be undone.

Lat.

About it then, farewell, y'are all of one mind.

Coo.

All? All: All: All.

Lat,

Why then all happie.

Exit.

But.

What did wee promise him?

Yeo.

Doe you aske that now?

But.

I would be glad to know what 'tis.

Pan.

Ile tell you. It is to be all villanes, knaves, and traytors.

Coo.

Fine wholsome titles.

Pan.

But if you dare, goe forward.

Co••.

Wee may be hang'd, drawne, and quarter'd.

Pan.

Very true, sir.

Coo.

What a goodly swing I shall give the gallowes? yet I think too, this may be done, and yet wee may be rewarded, not with a rope, but with a royall master: and yet wee may be hang'd too.

Yeo.

Say it were done; who is it done for? is it not for Rollo? And for his right?

Coo.

And yet we may be hang'd too.

But.

Or say he take it, say wee be discover'd? Is not the fame man bound to still protect us? Are we not his?

But.

Sure, he will never fayle us.

Coo.

If he doe, friends, we shall finde that will hold us; And yet me thinks, this prologue to our purpose, These crownes should promise more: tis easily done, As easie as a man would roast an egge, If that be all; for look you, gentlemen, Here stand my broths, my finger slips a little, Downe drops a dose, I stir him with my ladle, And there's a dish for a Duke: ••lla Podrid••. Here stands a bak'd meat, he wan•••• a little seasoning, A foolish mistake; my Spice-box, gentlemen, And put in some of this, the matter •• ended; Dredge you a dish of plovers, there's the Art on't.

Yeo.

Or as I fill my wine.

Coo.

Tis very true, sir. Bl••ssing it with your hand, thus quick and neatly first, tis past And done once, tis as easie For him to thank us for it, and reward us.

Pan.

But tis a•• damnd sinne.

Coo.

O, never feare that. The fire's my play-fellow, and now I am resolvd, boyes.

But.

Why then, have with you.

Yeo.

The same for mee.

Pan.

For mee too.

Coo.

And now no more our worships, but our lordships.

Pan.

Not this yeere, on my knowledge, Ile unlord you.

Exeunt.

Act II. Scene III.

Enter Servant, and Sewer.

PErfume the roome round, and prepare the table, Gentlemen officers, wait in your places.

Sew.

Make roome there, Roome for the Dukes meate. Gentlemen, be bare there, Cleere all the entrance: Guard, put by those gapers, And gentlemen-ushers, see the gallery cleere, The Dukes are comming on.

Hoboys a banquet.

Enter Sophia, between Rollo and Otto, Aubrey, Latorche, Gis∣bert, Baldwin, Attendants, Hamond, Matilda, Edith.

Ser.

Tis certainly informd.

Ot••

Reward the fellow, and looke you mainly to it.

Ser.

My life for yours, sir.

Soph.

Now am I straight•• my lords, and young agen, My long since blasted hopes shoot out in blossomes, The fruits of everlasting love appearing; Oh! my blest boyes, the honour of my yeares, Of all my cares, the bounteous faire rewarders. Oh! let me thus imbrace you, thus for ever Within a mothers love lock up your friendships: And my sweet sons, once more with mutuall twinings, As one chast bed begot you, make one body: Blessings from heaven in thousand showres fall on you:

Aub.

Oh! womans goodnesse never to be equall'd, May rhe most sinfull creatures of thy sex But kneeling at thy monument, rise saints.

Soph.

Sit downe my worthy sons; my lords. your places. I, now mee thinks (the table's nobly furnish; Now the meat nourishes; the wine gives spirit; And all the roome stuck with a generall pleasure, Shewes like the peacefull bowes of happinesse.

Aub.

Long may it last, and from a heart fill'd with it, Full as my cup: I give it round, my lords.

Bald.

And may that stubborn heart be drunk with sorrow Refuses it; men dying now, should take it; Shake off their miseries, and sleep in peace.

Rol.

You are sad, my noble brother.

Ot.

No, indeed, sir.

Roph.

No sadnesse my son this day.

Rol.

Pray you eate. Something is here you have lov'd; taste of this dish It will prepare your stomack.

Ot.

Thank you brother: I am not now dispos'd to eate.

Rol.

Or that. You put us out of heart man, come, these bak't meats Were ever your best dyet.

Ot.

None, I thank you.

Soph.

Are you well, noble childe?

Ot.

Yes, gratious mother.

Rol.

Give him a cup of wine, then, pledge the health, drink it to mee, Ile give it to my mother.

Soph.

Doe, my best ehilde.

Ot.

I must not, my best mother, Indeed I dare not: for of late, my body Has been much weakned by excesse of dyet; The promise of a feaver hanging on mee. And even now ready, if not by abstinence

Rol.

And will you keep it in this generall freedome; A little health preferrd before our friendship.

Ot.

I pray you excuse mee, sir.

Rol.

Excuse your selfe sir, Come tis your feare, and not your favour brother, And you have done me a most worthy kindnesse My Royall mother, and you noble Lords; Here, for it now concernes me to speake boldly; What faith can be expected from his vowes, From his dissembling smiles, what fruite of friendship From all his dull embraces, what blest issue, When he shall brand me here for base suspition, He takes me for a poysoner.

Sop.

Gods defend it sonne.

Rol.

For a foule knave, a villaine, and so feares me.

Ot.

I could say something too.

Sop.

You must not so sir, Without your great forgetfulnesse of vertue; This is your brother, and your honour'd brother.

Rol.

If he please so.

••••p.

One noble father, with as noble thoughts, ••••got your mindes and bodies: one care rockt you•• ••nd one truth to you both was ever sacred; Now fye my Otto, whither flyes your goodnesse, Because the right hand has the power of cutting, Shall the left presently cry out tis maymed? They are one my childe, one power, and one performance, And joyn'd together thus, one love, one body.

Aub.

I doe beseech your grace, take to your thoughts More certaine counsellors than doubts or feares, They strangle nature, and disperse themselves (If once beleev'd) into such fogges and errours That the bright truth her selfe can never se••er: Your brother is a royall gentleman Full of himselfe, honour, and honesty, And take heede sir, how nature bent to goodnesse, (So streight a Cedar to himselfe) uprightnesse Be wrested from his true use, prove not dangerous

Rol.

Nay my good brother knownes I am too patient.

Lat.

Why should your Grace thinke him a poysoner

Has hē no more respect to piety! And but he has by oath ty'de up his fury Who durst but thinke that thought.

Aub.

Away thou firebrand.

Lat.

If men of his sort, of his power, and place The eldest sonne in honour to this Dukedome.

Bald.

For shame containe thy tongue, thy poysonous tongue That with her burning venome will infect all, And once more blow a wilde fire through the dukedome.

Gis.

Latorche, if thou be'st honest, or a man, Containe thy selfe.

Aub.

Goe too, no more, by heaven Youle finde y'have playd the foole else, not a word more.

Sop.

Prithee sweete sonne.

Rol.

Let him alone sweete mother, and my Lords To make you understand how much I honour This sacred peace, and next my innocence And to avoyd all further difference Discourse may draw on to a way of danger I quit my place, and take my leave for this night, Wishing a generall joy may dwell among you.

Aub.

Shall we waite on your grace?

Rol.

I dare not breake you, Latorche.

Exit. Rollo and Latorch••.

Ot.

Oh mother that your tendernesse had eyes, Discerning eyes, what would this man appeare then, The tale of Synon when he tooke upon him To ruine Troy; with what a cloud of cunning He hid his heart, nothing appearing outwards, But came like innocence, and dropping pitty, Sighes that would sinke a Navie, and had tales Able to take the eares of Saints, beleefe too, And what did all these? blew the fire to Illium, Hi•• crafty art (but more refin'd by study) My brother has put on: oh I could tell you But for the reverence I beare to nature, Things that would make your honest blood runne backward.

Sop.

You dare tell me?

Ot.

Yes, in your private closet Where I will presently attend you; rise I am a little troubled, but 'twill off.

Sop.

Is this the joy I look'd for?

Ot.

All will mend, Be not disturb'd deare mother, Ile not faile you.

Exit. Sop. and Otto.

Bald.

I doe not like this.

Aub.

That is still in our powers, But how to make it so that we may like it.

Bald.

Beyond us ever; Latorche me thought was bu••ie, That fellow, if not lookt to narrowly will doe a suddaine mischiefe.

Aub.

Hell looke to him, For if there may be a devill above all, yet that rogue will make him; keepe you up this night, And so will I, for much I feare a danger.

Bald.

I will, and in my watches use my prayers.

Exeunt.

Act. 3. Scaene. I.

Enter Sophia, Otto, Matillda, Edith.

Ot.

You wonder Madam, that for all the shewes My brother Rollo makes of hearty love And free possession of the Dukedome twixt us; I notwithstanding should stand still suspiscious, As if beneath those veyles, he did convey Intents and practises of hate, and treason?

Sop.

It breeds indeed my wonder.

Ot.

Which makes mine, Since it is so safe and broad a beaten way, Beneath the name of friendship to betray.

Sop.

Though in remote and further of affections, These falsehoods are so common, yet in him

They cannot so force nature;

Ot.

The more neere The bands of truth bind, the more oft they sever, Be••ng better cloakes to cover falshood over.

Sop.

It cannot be, that fruites the tree so blasting Can grow in nature; take heede gentle sonne Least some subbornd suggester of these treasons, Beleiv'd in him by you, provok'd the rather His tender envies, to such foule atempts; Or that your too much love to rule alone Breed not in him this Iealous pas••ion; Th••re is not any ill we might not beare Were not our good held at a price too deare?

Ot.

So apt is treachery to be excused, That innocence is still aloud abused, The fate of vertue even her friends perverts, To plead for vice oft times against their hearts, Heavens blessing is her curse, which she must beare That she may never love.

Sop.

Alas, my sonne, nor fate, nor heaven it selfe, Can or would wrest my whole care of your good To any least securenesse in your ill: What I urge issues from my curious feare; Least you should make your meanes to scape your snare, Doubt of sincerenesse is the onely meane Not to insence it, but corrupt it cleane.

Ot.

I rest as farre from wrong of sincerenesse, As he flyes from the practice, trust me Madam, I know by their confessions, he subborn'd, What I should eate, drinke, touch, or onely have scented, This evening feast was poysoned, but I feare This open violence more, that treacherous oddes Which he in his insa••iate thirst of rule Is like to excute.

Sop.

Beleeve it Sonne•• If still his stomacke be so foule to feede On such grosse objects, and that thirst to rule

The state alone be yet unquench'd in him, Poysons and such close treasons aske more time Than can suffice his fiery spirits hast: And were there in him such desire to hide So false a practise, there would likewise rest Conscience and feare in him'of open force, And therefore close nor open you need feare.

Mat.

Good Madam, stand not so inclin'd to trust What proves his tendrest thoughts to doubt it just, Who knowes not the unbounded flood and sea, In which my brother Rolloes appetites Alter and rage with every puffe and breath, His swelling blood exhales, and therefore heare, What gives my temperate bro••her cause to use His readiest circumspection, and consult For remedy against all his wicked purposes; If he arme, arme, if he strew mines of treason, Meete him with countermines, it is justice st••ll (For goodnesse sake) t'encounter ill with ill.

Sop.

Avert from us such jnstice, equall heaven, And all such cause of justice.

Ot.

Past all doubt (For all the sacred priviledge of night) This is no time for us to sleepe or rest in; Who knowes not all things holy are prevented With ends of all impietie, all but Lust, gaine, ambition.

Enter Rollo armed, and Latorche.

Rol.

Perish all the world Ere I but loose one foote of possible Empire, Be slights and colour us'd by slaves and wretches I am exempt by birth from both these curbes, And since above them in all justice, since I sit above in power, where power is given, Is all the right suppos'd of earth and heaven.

Lat.

Prove both sir, see the traytor.

Ot.

He comes armed, see Mother, now your c••nfidence.

Sop.

What rage affects this monster?

Roll.

Give me way or perish.

Sop.

Make thy way viper, if thou thus affect it.

Ot.

This is a treason like thee.

Roll.

Let her goe.

Sop.

Embrace me, weare me as thy shield, my sonne; And through my breast let his rude weapon runne, To thy lives innoscence.

Ot.

Play not two parts, Treacher and coward both; but yeeld a sword, And let thy arming thee be oddes enough Against my naked bosome.

Roll.

Loose his hold.

Mat.

Forbeare base murtherer.

Roll.

Forsake our mother.

Sop.

Mother, dost thou name me, and put'st off nature thus?

Roll.

Forsake her traytour. Or by the spouse of nature through hers, This leads unto thy heart.

Ot.

Hold.

Sop.

Hold me still.

Ot.

For twenty hearts and lives I will not hazard One drop of blood in yours.

Sop.

Oh thou art lost then.

Ot.

Protect my innocence, heaven.

Sop.

Call out murther.

Mat.

Be murthered all, but save him.

Ed.

Murther, murther••

Roll.

Cannot I reach you yet.

Ot.

No fiend.

Roll.

Latorche, rescue, I'me downe.

Lat.

Vp then, your sword cooles sir, Ply it i'th' flame, and worke your ends out.

Roll.

Ha, have at you there sir.

Enter Aubrey.

Aub.

Author of prodigies, what sightes are these?

Ot.

Oh give me a weapon, Aubrey.

Sop.

Oh part'em, part'em.

Aub.

For heavens sake no more.

Ot.

No more resist his fury, no rage can Adde to his mischiefe done.

Dyes.

Sop.

Take spirit my Otto, Heaven will not see thee dye thus.

Mat.

He is dead, and nothing lives but death of every goodnesse.

Sop.

Oh he hath slaine his brother, curse him heaven.

Roll.

Curse and be cursed, it is the fruite of cursing•• Latorche, take off here, bring too, of that blood To colour ore my shirt, then rayse the Court And give it out how he atempted us In our bed naked, shall the name of brother Forbid us to inlarge our state and powers? Or place affects of blood above our reason? That tells us all things good against another, Are good in the same line against a brother.

Exit.

Enter Gisbert, Balldwin.

Gis.

What affaires informe these out-cries?

Aub.

See and grieve.

Gi••.

Prince Otto slaine I

Ball.

Oh execrable slaughter I What hand hath author'd it?

Aub.

Your Schollers, Baldwin.

Bald.

Vnjustly urg'd, Lord Aubrey, as if I, For being his Schoolemaster, must owne this doctrine, You are his Counsellours, did you advise him To this foule parracide?

Gis.

If rule affect this licence, who would live To worse, than dye in force of his obedience?

Bald.

Heavens cold and lingring spirit to punish sinne, And humane blood so fiery to commit it, One so outgoes the other, it will never Be turn'd to fit obedience.

Aub.

Burst it then

With his full swing given, where it brookes no bound, Complaints of it are vaine; and all that rests To be our refuge (since our powers are strengthlesse) Is to conforme our wills to suffer freely, What with our murmurs we can never master; Ladyes, be pleased with what heavens pleasure suffers, Erect your princely countenances and spirits, And to redresse the mischiefes now resistlesse, Sooth it in shew, rather than curse or crosse it; Which all amends, and vow to it your best, But till you may performe it, let it rest.

Gis.

Those temporizings are too dull and servile, To breath the free ayre of a manly soule, Which shall in me expire in execrations, Before, for any life I sooth a m••rtherer.

Bald.

Poure lives before him, till his owne be dry Of all lives services and humaine comforts: None left that lookes at heaven is halfe so base To doe those blacke and hellish actions grace.

Enter Rollo, Lat. Ham, and guard.

Rol.

Haste Latorche And raise the Cittie as the Court is raised Proclaiming the abhor'd conspiracy In plot against my life.

Lat.

I haste my Lord.

Exit.

Roll.

You there that mourne upon the justly slaine, Arise and leave it if you love your lives, And heare from me what (kept by you) may save you.

Mat.

What will the Butcher doe? I will not stirre.

Roll.

Stirre, and unforc't stirre, or stirre never more: Command her, you grave Beldame, that know better My deadly resolutions, since I drew them From the infective fountaine of your owne, Or if you have forgot, this fiery prompter Shall fixe the fresh impression on your heart.

Sop.

Rise daughter, serve his will in what we may

Least what we may not he enforce the rather, Is this all you command us?

Rol.

This addition onely admitted, that when I endeavour To quit me of this slaughter you persume not To crosse me with a syllable for your soules; Murmure, nor thinke against it, but weigh well, It will not helpe your ill, but helpe to more, And that my hand wrought thus farre to my will, Wi••l checke at nothing till his circle fill.

Mat.

Fill it, so I consent not, but who soothes it Consents, and who consents to tyrannie, does it.

Rol.

False traytresse die then with him.

Aub.

Are you mad, to offer at more blood, and make your self More horrid to your people? Ile proclaime, It is not as your instrument will publish.

Rol.

Doe, and take that along with you —so nimble, Resigne my sword, and dare not for thy soule To offer what thou insolently threatnest; One word, proclaiming crosse to what Latorch Hath in Commission•• and intends to publish.

Aub.

Well sir, not for your threats, but for your good, Since more hurt to you would more hurt your countrey, And that you must make vertue of the neede That now compells you, Ile consent as farre As silence argues to your will proclaimed: And since no more sonnes of your Princely father Survives to rule but you, and that I wish You should rule like your father, with the love And zeale of all your subjects; this foule slaughter That now you have committed made ashamed With that faire blessing, that in place of plagues, Heaven••ies our me••••ing disposition, which Take here your sword, which now use like a Prince, And no more like a Tyrant.

Rol.

This sounds well, live and be gracious with us.

Gis. and Bal.

Oh Lord Aubrey.

Mat.

He flatters thus?

Sop.

He temporizes fitly.

Rol.

Wonder invades me•• doe you two thinke much, That he thus wisely, and with neede consents To what I author for your Countries good? You being my Tutor, you my Chancellour.

Gis.

Your Chancellour, is not not your Flatterer ••ir.

Bal.

Nor, Is it your Tutors part to shield such doctrine?

Rol.

Sir, first know you•• In praise of your pure Oratorie that raise you. That when the people, who I know by this Are raised out of their rests, and hastening hithe•• To witnesse what is done here, are arrived With•••••• Latorch, that you extemp••r•• Shall fashion an Oration to acquit And justifie this forced fact of mine; Or for the proud refusall lose your head.

Gis.

I fashion an Oration to acquit you? Sir, know you then, that tis a thing lesse easie To excuse a parracide than to commit it.

Rol.

I doe not wish you sir, to excuse me, But to accuse my brother, as the cause Of his owne slaughter by attempting mine.

Gis.

Not for the world, I should powre blood on blood•• It were another murther to accuse Him that fell innocent.

Rol.

Away with him, hence, haile him streight to executio••

Aub.

Farre fly such rigour your amendfull hand.

Rol.

He perishes with him that speakes for him•• ••uard doe thy office on him, on your lives-paine.

Gis.

Tyrant, twill has••e thy owne death.

Rol.

Let it wing it, Ne threatens me; Villaines t••••re him piece, meale 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Guard.

Avant sir.

Ham.

Force him hence.

Rol.

Dispatch him Captaine, And bring me instant word he i•• dispatched. And how his re••••ike takes it.

Ham.

Ile not faile sir.

Rol.

Captaine, besides remember this in chiefe; That being executed you denie To all his friends the rits of funerall, And cast his carkase out to dogges and ••oules.

Ham.

Tis done my Lord.

Rol.

Vpon your life not faile.

Bal.

What impious daring is there here of heaven?

Rol.

Sir now prepare your selfe against the people, Make here their entry to discharge the Oration, He hath denied my will.

Bal.

For feare of death? ha, ha, ha,

Rol.

Is death rediculous with you? Workes misery of age this, or thy judgement••

Bal.

Iudgement false tyrant.

Rol.

Youle make no Oration then?

Bal.

Not to excuse, but aggravate thy murther if thou wilt; which I will so enforce, Ile make thee wreake it (With hate of what thou win'st by't) on thy selfe, With such another justly merited murther.

Rol.

Ile answer you anon.

Enter Lat••rch.

Lat.

The citizens are hasting sir in heapēs, all full resolv'd By my perswasions of your brothers Treason••:

Rol.

Honest Latorch.

Enter H••••ond.

Ha.

See sir, here's Gisberts head.

Rol.

Good speed; wast with a sword?

Ha.

An axe fir.

Rol.

An axe, twas vildely done, I would have had My owne fine Headsman done it with a sword: Goe, take this dotard here, and take his head Off with a sword.

Ha.

Your School••master••

Rol.

Even he.

Bal.

For teaching thee no better; tis the best Of all thy damned justices; away Captaine, Ile follow.

Ed.

Oh stay there Duke, and in the midst of all thy blood and fury, Heare a poore maides petitions, here a daughter, The onely daughter of a wretched father•• Oh stay your haste as you shall neede this mercy.

Rol.

Away with this fond woman.

Ed.

You most heare me, If there be any spake of pity•• in you, If sweete humanity and mercy rule you; I doe confesse you are a Prince, your anger As great as you, your execution greater.

Rol.

Away with him.

Ed.

Oh Captaine, by thy manhood By her soft soule that beare thee, I doe confesse sir, Your doome of justice on your foes most righteous; Good noble Prince looke on the••••

Rol.

Take her from me.

Ed.

A curse upon his life that hinders me; May fathers blessing never fall upon him, May heaven never heare his prayers: I beseech you, Oh sir, these few teares beseech you; these chast hands wooe you Th•••• never yet were heav'd but to things holy, Things like your selfe, you are a God above us; Be as a God then, full of saving mercy; Mercy, oh mercy, for his sake mercy; That when your stout heart weapes shall give you pitty; Here I must grow.

Ral.

By heaven Ile strike thee woman.

Ed.

Most willingly, let all thy anger seeke me, All the most studyed torments, so this good man, This old man, and this innocent escape thee.

Rol.

Carry him away, I say.

Ed.

Now blessing on thee, oh sweet pitty, I see it in thy eyes. I charge you souldiers Even by the Princes power, release my father;

The Prince is mercifull, why doe you hold him? He is old, why doe you hurt him? speake, oh speake sir; Speake, as you are a man; a mans life hangs sir, A friends life, and a foster life upon you: Tis but a word, but mercy, quickly spoke sir; Oh speake Prince, speake.

Rol.

Will no man here obey me? Have I no rule yet? as I live he dies That does not execute my will, and suddenly.

Bal.

All that thou canst doe, takes but one short houre from me.

Rol.

Hew off her hands.

Ham.

Lady hold off.

Ed.

No hew'm, Hew off my innocent hands as he commands you,

Exit Guard, Count Bald.

They'le hang the faster on for deaths convulsion; Thou seede of rockes, will nothing move thee then: Are all my teares lost? all my righteous prayers Drown'd in thy drunken wrath? I stand thus then Thus boldly, bloody Tyrant, And to thy face in heavens high name defie thee; And may sweet mercy when thy soule sighes for it, When under thy blacke mischi••••es thy flesh trembles, When neither strength, nor youth, nor friends, nor gold Can stay one houre, when thy most wretched conscience Wak'd from her dreame of death like fire shall melt thee, When all thy mothers teares, thy brothers wounds, Thy peoples feares and curses, and my losse, My aged fathers losse shall stand before thee.

Rol.

Save him I say, runne, save him, save her father Flie and redeeme his head.

Exit Latorch.

Ed.

May then that pitty, That comfort thou expect'st from heaven, that mercy Be lock't up from thee, fly thee, howling find thee, Despaire, oh my sweete father, stormes of terrors, Blood till thou burst againe.

Rol.

Oh faire sweet anger.

Enter Latorch and Hamond with a 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Lat.

I am two late sir, twas dispatch'd before•• And his head is heare.

Rol.

And my heart there; goe bury him. Give him faire rites of funerall, decent honour••.

Ed.

Wilt thou not take me monster? heighest heaven Give him a punishment fit for his mischiefe.

Lat.

I feare thy prayer is heard, and he rewarded•• Lady have patience, twas unhappy speed; Blame not the Duke, twas not his fault, but fates, He sent, you know to stay it, and commanded In care of you, the heavie object hence Soone as it came? have better thoughts of him.

Enter Citizens.

Cit. 1.

Where's this young Traytor?

Lat.

Noble citizens•• here; Any here the wounds he gave your soveraigne Lord.

Cit. 1.

This Prince of force must be Belov'd of heaven, whom heaven hath thus preserv'd.

Cit. 2.

And if he be belov'd of heaven, you know, He must be just, and all his actions so.

Rol.

Concluded like an Oracle, oh how great A grace of heaven is a wise ••••••••zen? For heaven tis makes them wise, as 't makes me just, As it preserves me, as I now survive By his strong hand to keepe you all alive; Your wives, your children, goods and lands kept yours, That had beene else preyes to his tyranous power, That would have prey'd on me, in bed a••saulted me In sacred time of peace; my mother here, My sister, this just Lord, and all had felt The curtian gulph of this conspiracie, Of which my Tutor and my Chancellour, Two of the gravest and most counted honest In all my Dukedome) were the monstrous head••; Oh trust no honest men for their sakes ever My politique Citizens, but those that breathe

The names of Cut-throats, usurers an Tyrants; Oh those beleeve 〈◊〉〈◊〉, for the ••oule mouth'd world Can give no better termes to ••imple goodnesse: Even m•• it dares blaspheme, and thinkes me tyrannou•• For saving my owne life, sought by my brother: Yet those that sought his life before by poyson (Though my owne servants, hoping to please me) Ile lead to death fort, which your eyes shall see.

Cit. 1.

Why, what a Prince is here?

Cit. 2.

How just?

Cit. 3.

How gentle?

Rol.

Well, now my dearest subjects; or much rather My nerves, my spirits, or my vitall blood; Turne to your needfull rest, and setled peace, Fixe in this roote of steele, from whence it sprung In heavens great helpe and blessing: but ere sleepe Bind in his sweet oblivion your dull senses, The name and verme of heavens King; advance For yours, in ••hiefe for my deliverance.

Cit.

Heaven and his King save our most pious soveraigne.

Exit Citizens.

Rol.

Thankes my good people: mother and kind sister, And you my noble kinsmen, thinges borne thus, Shall make you all command what ever I Enjoy in this my absolute Empery, Take in the body of my princely brother; For whose death, since his fate no other way, Would give my eldest birth his supreme right; We'le mourne the cruell influence it beares, And wash his sepulcher with kindly teares.

Aub.

If this game end thus, heavens will rule the se••. What we have yeelded to, we could not let.

Exit ••••nes, Praet••r, Latorch, and Edith

Lat.

Good Lady rise, and raise your spirits withall, More high than they are humbled; you have cause, As much as ever honour'd happiest Lady; And when your eares are freer to take in Your most amendfull and unmatched fortunes,

Ile make you drowne a hundred helpelesse deathes In sea of one life powr'd into your bosome; With which shall flow into your armes, the ri••hes, The pleasures, honours, and the rule•• o•• P••in••••••; Which though death stop your ea••es, me thinks should ope'm Assay to forget death.

Ed.

Oh slaughter'd father.

Lat.

Taste of what cannot be redress'd, and blesse The fate that yet you curse so; sin••e for that You spake so movingly, and your sweet eyes With so much grace fill'd, that you set on fire The Dukes affection, whom you now may rule As he rules all his Dukedome, is't not sweet? Does it not shine away your sorrowes clouds•• Sweet Lady, take wi••e heart, and heare, and tell me••

Ed.

I heare no word you speake.

Lat.

Prepare to heare then, And be not barr'd up from your selfe, nor adde To your ill fortune with your farre worse judgement•• Make me your servant to attend with all joyes Your sad estate, till they both blesse and speake it: See how they'le bow to you, make me waite, command m•• To watch out every minute, for the stay Your modest sorrow fancies, raise your graces, And doe my hopes the honour of your motion, To all the offered heights that now attend you: Oh how your touches ravish? how the Duke Is slaine already with your flames embrac'd? I will both serve and vi••ite you, and often.

Ed.

I am not fit sir.

Lat.

Time will make you Lady.

Exeunt.

Act III. Scene II.

Enter the Guard, 3 or 4 boyes, then the Shreriffe, Cooke, Yeoman of the Cellar, Butler, Pantler to execution.

Guard 1.

COme bring in these fellows, on, away with them.

Guard 2.

Make roome before there, roome for the prisoners••

Boy 1.

Let's run before boyes, we shall have no places else••

Boy 2.

Are these the youths?

Cook

These are the youths you look for, And, pray my honest friends, be not so hasty, There will be nothing done till we come, I assure you.

Boy 3.

Here's a wise hanging, are there no more?

But.

Doe you heare sir? you may come in for your share if you please.

Coo.

My friend, if you be unprovided of a hanging, You look like a good fellow, I can afford you A reasonable peny-worth.

Boy 2.

Afore, afore boyes, here's enough to make us sport.

Yeo.

Pox take you, Doe you call this sport? are these your recreations? Must we be hang'd to make you mirth?

Coo.

Doe you heare sir? You custard pate, we go to't for high treason, An honourable fault: thy foolish father Was hang'd for stealing sheepe.

Boyes

Away, away boyes.

Coo.

Doe you see how that sneaking rogue lookes now? You, chip, Pantler, you peaching rogue, that provided us these necklaces: you poore rogue, you costive rogue you.

Pant.

Pray, pray, fellowes.

Coo.

Pray for thy crusty soule? where's your reward now, Goodman Manchet, for your fine discovery? I doe beseech you sir, where are your dollars? Draw with your fellowes, and be hang'd.

Yeo.

He must now. For now he shall be hang'd first, that's his comfort, A place too good for thee, thou meale mouth'd rascall.

Coo.

Hang handsomely for shame, come leave your praying You peaking knave, and die like a good courtier; Die honestly, and like a man; no preaching, With I beseech you take example by me, I liv'd a lewd man, good people; pox ont: Die me as if thou hadst din'd, say grace, and God be with you,

Guard.

Come, will you forward?

Cook.

Good Mr Sheriffe, your leave to, this hasty work Was nere done well: give us so much time as but to sing Our owne Ballads, for weele trust no man, Nor no tune but our owne; twas done in Ale too, And therefore cannot be refus'd in justice. Your penny pot Poets are such pelting theeves, They ever hang men twice; we have it here sir, And so much every merchant of our voyage, Hele make a sweet returne else of his credit.

Yeo.

One fit of our owne mirth and then we are for you.

Gu••r.

Make haste then, dispatch.

Yeo.

There's day enough, sir.

Coo.

Come boyes, sing cheerfully, we shall nere sing yonger•• We have chosen a loud tune too, because it should like well.

The Song

Come, Fortune's a whore, I care not who tell her, Would offer to strangle a page of the Cellar, That should by his oath, to any mans thinking, And place, have had a defence for his drinking; But thus she does still, when she pleases to palter, In stead of his wages, she gives him a halter.

Three merry boyes, and three merry boyes, and three merry boyes are we, As ever did sing in a hempen string, under the gallow-tree.

2

But I that was so lusty, And ever kept my bottles, That neither they were musty, And seldome lesse than pottles, For me to be thus stopt now, With hemp in stead of cork sir, And from the gallows lopt now, Shewes that there is a fork sir, In death, and this the token, Man may be two wayes killed, Or like the bottle, broken, Or like the wine, be spilled.

Three merry boyes, &c

3

Oh yet but look on the master Cook, the glory of the kitchin, In sowing whose fate at so lofty a rate, no Taylor ere had stitching•• For though he makes the man, the Cooke yet makes the dishes; The which no Taylor can, wherein I have my wishes, That I who at so many a feast have pleasde so many tasters, Should now my selfe come to be drest, a dish for you my masters••

Three merry boyes, &c.

Coo.

There's a few coppies for you; now farewell friends: And good Mr Sheriffe, let me not be printed With a brasse pot on my head.

But.

March faire, march faire, afore good Captain Pantler.

4

Pant. Oh man or beast, or you at least, That weare or brow or antler, Prick up your eares, unto the teares Of me poore Paul the Pantler, That thus am clipt because I chipt The cursed crust of Treason With loyall knife: Oh dolefull strife, To hang thus without reason.

Act IV. Scene I.

Enter Aubrey and Latorch.

LAtorch, I have wayted here to speak with you, And you must hearken: Set not forth your legs Of haste, nor put yonr face of businesse on; An honester affaire than this I urge too, You will not easily think on; and twill be Reward to entertaine it: Tis your fortune To have our Masters ••are above the rest Of us that follow him, but that no man envies: For I have well con••••dered, truth sometimes May be conveyd in by the same conduits That falshood is: These courses that he takes, Cannot but end in ruine; Empire got By blood and violence, must so be held; And how unsafe that is, he first will prove, That toyling still to remove enemies, Makes him selfe more; it is not now a Brother A faithfull Councellour of estate or two, That are his danger, they are far dispatch'd It is a multitude that begin to feare, And think what began there, must end in them, For all the fine Oration that was made 'em; And they are not an easie monster quelld. Princes may pick their suffering Nobles out;

And one by one employ 'em to the block; but when they once grow formidable to their clownes, and coblers, ware then, guard themselves; if thou durst tell him this, Lotorche, the service would not discredit the good name you hold with men, be∣sides the profit to your master, and the publick.

Lat.

I conceive not so, sir. They are ayrie feares; and why should I object them unto his fancy? Wound what is yet ••ound? your counsailes colour no••,

With reason of state, where all thats necessary still is just? The actions of the prince, while they succeed, Should be made good, and glorified; not questiond, Men doe but shew their ill affections, that —

Aub.

What? speak out.

Lat.

Doe murmure against their masters.

Aub.

Is this to mee?

Lat.

It is to whosoever mislikes of the Dukes courses

Aub.

I, ist so? at your stateward, sir?

Lat.

I'me sworne to heare nothing may prejudice the prince.

Aub.

Why doe you? or have you, ha?

Lat,

I cannot tel, mens hearts shew in their words sometims.

Aub.

I everthought thee Knave of the chamber, art thou the spy too?

Lat.

A watchman for the state, and one that's known Sir, to be rightly affected.

Aub.

Baud of the state; No lesse than of thy masters lusts. I now See nothing can redeem thee; doest thou mention Affection, or a heart that ne're hadst any? Know'st not to love or hate, but by the state, As thy prince does`t before thee? that dost never Weare thy owne face, but putt'st on his, and gather'st•• Baits for his ••ares: liv'st wholly at his beck, And e're thou dar'st utter a thought's thine owne, Must expect his; crep'st forth and wad'st into him As if thou wert to passe a foord, there proving Yet if thy tongue may stop on safely, or no: Then bring'st his vertue asleep, and stayst the wheele Both of his reason, and judgement, that they move no••. Whit'st over all his vices; and at last Dost draw a cloud of words before his eyes, Till hee can neither see thee, nor himselfe? Wretch; I dare give him honest counsailes, I; And love him while I tell him truth: old Aubrey Dares goe the straightest way, which still`s the shortest, Walke on the thornes thou scatter'st, Parasite,

And tread 'em into nothing: and if thou Then lett'st a look fall, of the least dislike, Ile rip thy crown up with my sword at height, And pluck thy skin over thy face: in sight Of him thou flatter'st; unto thee I speak it, Slave, against whom all lawes, should now conspire, And every creature that hath sense, be armd, As 'gainst the common enimy of mankind; That sleepst within thy masters eare, and whisp'erst Tis better for him to be feard, than lovd: Bidst him trust no mans freindship, spare no blood, That may secure him; tis no cruelty That hath a spatious end; for soverainty Break all the lawes of kind; if it succeed An honest, noble, and prayse-worthy deed; While hee that takes thy poysons in, shall feele Their virulent workings in a poynt of time, When no repentance can bring ayd, but all His spirits shall melt, with what his conscience burnd And dying in flatterers armes, shall fall unmournd. Theres matter for you now.

Lat.

My lord, this makes not, for loving of my master.

Aub.

Loving? no. They hate ill Princes most that make them so.

Enter Rollo, Hamand, Allan, Guard.

Rol.

Ile heare no more.

Ham.

Alas, tis for my brorher. I beseech your highnesse.

Rol,

How, a brother? had not I one my selfe? did title Move mee when it was fit that hee should dye? away.

All.

Brother, loose no word more, leave my good cause T`upbraid the tyrant, I`me glad, ••`me falne, Now in those times that willd some great example T' assure men wee can die for honesty.

Rol.

Sir, you are brave; pray that you hold your neck As bravely forth anon unto your headsman.

All.

Would hee would strike as bravely, and thou by.

Rollo, t'would make thee quake to see mee die.

Aub.

Whats his offence?

Ham.

For giving Gisbert buriall; who was sometimes his master,

All.

Yes: lord Aubery. My gratitude, and humanity, are my crimes.

Rol.

Why beare you him not hence?

Aub.

My lord (stay souldiers) I doe beseech your highnesse, doe not loose Such men for so slight causes. This is one Has still been faithfull to you, a tryde soule In all your fathers battailes; I have seene him Bestride a friend, against a score of foes, And looke, he looks as hee would kill his hundred For you, sir, were you in some danger.

All.

Till hee killd his brother, his chancellor, then his Master, to which he can adde nought to equall Nero, But killing of his mother.

Aub.

Peace, brave foole; Thou valiant asse, here is his brother too, sir, A captaine of your guard, hath servd you long, With the most noble witnesse of his truth Markd in his face, and every part about him, That turnes not from an enemy. But view him, Oh doe not grieve him sir, if you doe meane That hee shall hold his place: it is not safe To tempt such spirits, and let them weare their swords, You'le make your guards your terrours by these Acts And throw more hearts of from you then you hold: And I must tell you sir, (with my old freedome And my old faith to boot) you have not livd so But that your state will need such men, such hands Of which heres one, shall in an houre of tryall Doe you more certaine service with a stroak, Than the whole bundle of your flatterers With all the unsavory unction of their tongues••

Rol.

Peace, talker.

Aub,

One that loves you yet, my lord. And would not see you pull on your owne ruines••

Mercy becomes a Prince, and guards him best, Awe and affrights are never tyes of Love; And when men begin to feare the Prince, they hate him.

Rol.

Am I the Prince, or you?

Aub.

My Lord I hope I have not utterd ought should urge that question.

Rol.

Then practise your obedience, see him dead.

Aub.

My Lord,

Rol.

Ile heare no more.

Aub.

I'me sorry then; theres no small despaire, sir, of their safety, whose eares are blockt up against truth; come Captain.

Ham.

I thank you, sir.

Aub.

For what? for seeing thy brother dye a man, and honest? Live thou so Captaine, I will I assure thee, Although I die for't too: come—

Exeunt all but Rollo & Lator

Rol.

Now Latorche, what doe you think?

Lat.

That Aubreys speech and manners sound somewhat of the boldest

Rol.

Tis his custome.

Lat.

It may be so, and yet be worth a feare.

Rol.

If we thought so, it should be worth his life, and quick∣ly too.

Lat.

I dare not, sir, be author Of what I would be, tis so dangerous; But with your highnesse favour and your licence.

Rol.

He talks, tis true; he is licenc'd: leave him, We now are Duke alone, Latorche, securd; Nothing left standing to obscure our prospect, We look right forth, beside, and round about us, And see it ours with pleasure: only one Wish'd joy there wants, to make us to possesse it, And that is Edith, Edith, shee that got me In bloud and teares, in such an opposite minute, As had I not once set all the flames And shaft of Love shot in me (his whole armory) I should have thought him as farre off as death.

Lat.

My Lord, expect a while, your happinesse Is neerer than you think it, yet her griefes Are greene and fresh; your vigilant Latorche

Hath not been idle: I have leave already To visite her, and send to her••

Rol.

My life.

Lat.

And if I find not out as speedie wayes And proper instruments to work and bring her To your fruition; that she be not watch'd Tame to your Highnesse wish, say you have no servant Is capable of such a trust about you, Or worthy to be secretary of your pleasure.

Rol.

Oh my Latorche, what shall I render thee For all thy travailes, care and love?

Lat.

Sir, one suit, which I will ever importune, till you grant me••

Rol.

About your Mathematitians?

Lat.

Yes to have The Scheme of your nativity judg'd by them, I hav't already erected; Oh my Lord, You doe not know the labour of my feares, My doubts for you are such as cannot hope Any security, but from the Starres; Who, being rightly ask'd, can tell man more Than all power else, there being no power beyond them••

Rol.

All thy petitions still are care of us, Aske for thy selfe.

Lat.

What more can concerne me, than this?

Rol.

Well, rise true honest man, and goe then, Wee'le study our selves a meanes how to reward thee.

Lat.

Your grace is now inspir'd; now, now your Highnesse Begins to live, from this houre count your joyes: But, Sir, I must have warrants, with blanks figurd, To put in names, such as I like.

Rol.

You shall.

Lat.

They dare not else offer, Sir, at your figure•• Oh I shall bring you wonders; ther's a Frier Rusee, an admirable man, another A gentleman, and then Lafiske, The mirrour of his time; 'twas he that sett it•• But there's one Norbret, (him I never saw)

Has made a mirrour, a meere Looking-glasse, In shew you`ld think't no other; the forme ovall, As I am given to understand by letter, Which renders you such shapes, and those so differing, And some that will be question'd and give answers; Then has he sett it in a frame, that wrought Unto the revolutions of the Starres, And so compact by due proportions Unto their harmony, doth move alone A true automaton; thus Dedalus Statues, Or Vulcans Tooles —

Rol.

Dost thou beleeve this?

Lat.

Sir? why, what should stay my faith, or turn my sense? He has been about it above twentie yeares, Three sevens, the powerfull, and the perfect numbers; And Art and Time, Sir, can produce such things. What doe I reade there of Hiarbas banquet? The great Gymnosophist, that had his Butlers And carvers of pure gold waiting at table? The images of Mercury, too, that spoke? The wooden dore that flew? a snake of brasse That hist? and birds of silver that did sing? All those new done by the Mathematicks, Without which there`s no science, nor no truth.

Rol.

You are in your spheare, Latorch: and rather Than Ile contend w'yee for it, Ile beleeve it. Y'have won upon me that I wish to see My fate before me now, what ere it bee.

Lat.

And Ile endeavour, you shall know with speed, For which I should have one of trust goe with mee, If you please, Hamond, that I may by him Send you my first dispatches; after I Shall bring you more, and as they come still more,

Rol.

Take your way, Choose your owne meanes, and be it prosperous to us.

Exeunt.

ACT. IV. SCAE. II.

Enter Ru••ee, de Bube, la Fiske, Norbert, Pippeau.

Rus.

Come, beare up Sirs, we shall have better dayes, My Almanack tels me.

Bub.

What is that? your rumpe?

Rus.

It never itch'd in vaine yet, slide la Fiske Throw off thy ••luggish face, I cannot abide To see thee tooke like a poore Jade i'th' pound, That saw no meat these three dayes.

Fiske.

Slight, to me It seemes thirteene dayes since I saw any.

Rus.

How?

Fis.

I can't remember that I ever saw Or meat or money, you may talke of both To open a mans stomack or his purse, But feed'em still with ayre.

Bub.

Fryar, I feare You do not say your Office well a dayes.

Nor.

Pox, he feedes With leachery, and lives upon th'exchange Of his two Eggs and Puddings with the market women.

Rus.

And what do you Sir, with the Advocats wife, Whom you perswade, upon your Doctorall bed, To take the Mathematicall trance so often?

Fis.

Come, we are starke naught all, bad's the bost of us, Foure of the seven deadly spots we are; Besides our Lechery, we are envious, And most, most gluttonous when we have it thus, Most covetous now we want it; then our Boy He is a fift spot, sloth and he undoes us.

Bub.

'Tis true, the child was wont to be industri∣ous, And now and then sent to a Merchants wife

Sicke of the husband, or a swearing Butler That mist of his Bowles, a crying Maid Had lost a silver spoon; the Curry come Somtims was wanting; there was somthing gotten•• But now—

Pip.

What now? Did not I yester-morning Bring you in a Cardecu there from the Pesant, Whosse 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I had driven aside, and hid, that you Might conjure for him? and then last night, Six Souz from the Cooks wife, you shar'd among you To set a figure for the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I stole, It is not at home yet; these things, my Masters, In a hard time, they would be thought on, you Talke of your lands and Castles in the ayre, Of your twelve houses there: but it is I That bring you in your rents for'em, 'tis Pippe•••• That is your bird-call.

Nor.

Faith he does w••ll, And cuts through the Elements for us, I must needs say In a fine dextrous line.

Fis.

But not as he did At first, then he would sayle with any wind Int' every Creek and Corner.

Pip.

I was light then, New built and rigg'd when I came to you, Gentlemen, But now with often and far ventring for you Here be leakes Spr•••••• and whole Plancks wanting see you; If you'le new sheat•• me•• ••••••ine, yet I am for you To any bog or sleights, where ere you'le send me, For as, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whe•••• can this ragged Bark Put in for any service; lesse it be O'th Isle of Rogues, and there turne Pyrate for you.

Nor.

Faith he sayes reason, Fryer, you must leave Your neat crispe Gla••••et•• and fall to your Syder A while; and you la Fiske, your larded Capons, And Turkeys for a time•• and take a good Cleane Tripe in your way; de Bube too must content him with

wholesome two Souz'd pe••itoes, no more Crown ordinaries, till we have cloath'd our Infant.

Bub.

So you'le keep Your own good motions, Doctor, your deare selfe.

Fis.

Yes, for we all do know the Latitude Of your Concupiscence.

Rus.

Here about your belly.

Bub.

You'le picke a bottle open or a whimsey, As soon as the best of us.

Fis.

And dip your wrists bands, (For Cuffs y'have none) as comely in the sauce

the Bell rings.

As any Courtyer— harke, the Bell, who is there

Rus.

Good luck I do conjure thee; Boy look out.

Pip.

They are Gallants, Courtiers, one of'em is

Exit and enter again. To Nor••ret.

Of the Dukes bed-chamber.

Rus.

Latorche, down, On with your gown, there's a new suite arriv'd, Did I not tell you, Sons of hunger? Crownes, Crowns are comming toward you, wine & wenches You shall have once again, and Fidlers: Into your studyes close; each lay his eare To his doore, and as you heare me to prepare you So come, and put me on that visard only.

Enter Latorche, Hamond.

Lat.

You'le not be far hence Captain, when the Businesse is done you shall receive present dispatch.

H••m.

Ile walke Sir, in the Cloyster.

Exit.

Rus.

Monsieur Latorche; my sonne The Stars are happy still that guide you hither.

Lat.

I'me glad to heare their Secretary say so, My learned Father Russ••, where's la Fiske, Monsieur de Bube, how do they?

Rus.

At their studyes, They are the Secretaries of the Stars, Sir, Still at their books, they will not be pull'd off, They stick like cupping glasses; if ever men Spoke with the tongue of destiny, 'tis they.

Lat.

For loves sake let's salute em.

Rus.

Boy, go see, Tell them who's here, say, that their friends do chal∣lenge Some portion of their time, this is our minutes; Pray'em they'le spare it: they are the Sun and Moon Of knowledge; pitty two such noble lights Should live obscur'd here in an University, Whose beames were fit, to illumine any Court Of Christendome••

Enter la Fiske, de Bube and Pippeau.

Lat.

The Duke will shortly know 'em.

Fis.

Well, look upon the Astrolabe; you'le find it Foure Almucanturies at least.

Bub.

It is so.

Rus.

Still, of their learned stuffe, they care for no∣thing, But how to know, as negligent of their bodies In dyet, or else, especially in their cloths, As if they had no change.

Pip.

They have so little As well may free them from the name of shifters.

Fis.

Monsieur Latorche?

Lat.

How is it, learned Gentlemen, with both your vertues?

Bub.

A most happy houre, when we see you, sir.

Lat.

When you heare me then It will be happier; the Duke greets you both Thus, and though you may touch no money, Father, Yet you may take it.

Rus.

'Tis his highnesse bounty, But yet to me, and these that have put off The world, superfluous.

Fis.

We have heard of late of his highnesse good successe.

Bub.

And gratulate it.

Lat.

Indeed he hath scap'd a strange Conspiracy, Thanks to his Stars; which Stars be prayes by me, You would again consul••, and make a Judgement On what you lately erected for my love.

Rus.

Oh, Sir, we dare not.

Fis.

For our lives.

Bub.

It is the Princes Scheame.

Lat.

T'incounter with that feare, Here's to assure you, his Signet, write your names, And be secured all three.

Bub.

We must intreat some time, sir,

Lat.

I must then intreat it, be as present as you can.

Fis.

Have you the Scheame here?

Lat.

Yes.

Rus.

I would you had sir another Warrant.

Dat.

What would that do?

Rus.

Marry we have a Doctor sir, that in this bu∣sinesse Would not performe the second part.

Lat,

Not him that you writ to me of?

Rus.

The very same.

Lat.

I should have made it, sir, my suite to see him, Here is a Warrant Father, I conceiv'd That he had solely applyed himselfe to Magick.

Rus.

And to their studies too sir, in this field, He was initiated, but we shall hardly Draw him from his chaire.

Lat.

Tell him he ••hall have gold.

Fis.

Oh, such a sillable would make him to for∣sweare Ever to breath in your sight.

Lat.

How then?

Fis.

Sir, he if you do please to give him any thing, Must have't convey'd under a paper.

Rus.

Or left behind some book in his study.

Bub.

Or in some old wall.

Fis.

Where his Familiars may tell him of it, and that pleases him, Sir.

Bub.

Or else Ile go and assay him.

Lat.

Take gold with you.

Rus.

That will not be amisse; give it the Boy, Sir, He knowes his holes, and how to baite his Spirits.

Pip.

We must lay in severall places, Sir.

Rus.

That's true, that if one come not the other may hit.

Lat.

Well, go then, is he so learned, Gentlemen.

Fis.

The very top of our profession; mouth of the fates,

Pray Heaven his Spirits be in a good humor to take. They'le fling the gold about the house else.

Bub.

I, and beat the Fryer if he go not well Furnisht with holy-water.

Fis.

Sir, you must observe him.

Bub.

Not crosse him in a word, for then he's gone.

Fis.

If he doe come, which is hazard, yet Masse he's here, this is speed.

Enter Norbert, Russe, Pippeau.

Nor.

Where is our Scheme, Let's see, dispatch, nay fumbling now, who's this?

Rus.

Chiefe Gentleman of the Dukes Chamber, Doctor.

Nor.

Oh, let him be, good even to him, he's a Courtyer, Ile spare his Complement, tell him, what's here? The geniture Nocturnall, Longitude At forty nine and ten minutes? How are the Cardines?

Fis.

Libra in twenty foure forty foure minutes, And Capricorne.

Nor.

I see in, see the Planets, Where, how are they dispos'd? the Sun and Mercury, Mars with the Dragons tayle in the third house, And pars Fortune in the Imo Coeli, Then Jupiter in the twelve, the Cacodemon.

Bub.

And Venus in the second Inferna Porta.

Nor.

I see it, peace, then Saturne in the Fifth, Luna i'th Seventh, and much of Scorpio, Then Mars his Gaudium, rising in th`ascendent, And joyn'd with Libra too, the house of Venus, And Iuniu Coeli, Mars his exaltation In the seventh house, Aries being his naturall house And where he is now seated, and all these shew him To be the Almuter.

Rus.

Yes, he's Lord of the Geniture, Whether you examine in by Ptolomeys way, Or Messethales, Lael, or Alkindus.

Fi••.

No other Planet hath so many dignities Either by himselfe•• or in regard of the Cuspes.

Nor.

Why hold your tongue then if you know it; Venus The Lady of the Horoscope, being Libra The other part, Mars rules: So that the geniture, Being Nocturnall, Luna is the highest, None else being in sufficient dignity, She being in Aries in the Seventh house, Where Sol exalted, 'is the Alchoroden.

Bub.

Yes, for you see he hath his Termine In the degrees where she is, and enjoyes By that, six dignities.

Fis.

Which are cleerly more Than any else that view her in the Scheame.

Nor.

Why I saw this, and could have told you too. That he beholds her with a Trine aspect Here out of Sagitary, almost partly, And how that Mars out of the selfesame house, (But another Signe) here by a Platique aspect Lookes at the Hilege, with a Quartile ruling The house where the Sun is; all this could I Have told you, but that you'le outrun me, & more, That this same Quartile aspect to the Lady of life, Here in the seventh, promises some danger, Cauda Draconis being so neere Mars, And Caput Algell in the house of Death.

Lat.

How Sir? I pray you cleare that.

Nor.

What is the question first?

Rus.

Of the Dukes life, what dangers threaten him?

Nor.

Apparent, & those suddaine, when the Hyley Or Alchorodon by direction come To a Quartile opposition of the place Where Mars is in the Geniture (which is now At hand) or else oppose to Mars himself; expect it.

Lat.

But they may be prevented.

Nor.

Wisdome only That rules the Stars, may do it; for Mars being Lord of the Geniture in Capricorne, Is, if you marke it, now a Sextile here,

With Venus Lady of the Horoscope. So she being in her Exilium, which is Scorpio, And Mars his Gaudium, is ore rul'd by him, And cleare debilitated five degrees Beneath her ordinary power, so That, at the most she can but mittigate.

Lat.

You cannot name the persons bring this danger?

Nor.

No, that the Stars tell us not, they name no man, That is a worke, sir, of another place.

Rus.

Tell him whom you suspect, and hee'le guesse shrewdly.

Lat.

Sir, we do feare one Aubrey; if 'twere he I should be glad; for we should soon prevent him.

Fis.

I know him, the Dukes kinsman, a tall man? Lay hold of't Norbret.

Nor.

Let me pause a little, Is he not neare of kin unto the Duke?

Lat.

Yes reverend Sir.

Lat.

Fart for your reverence, keep it till then; and somewhat high of statutre?

Lat.

He is so.

Nor.

How old is he?

Fis.

About seven and fifty.

Nor.

His head and beard inclining to be grey.

Lat.

Right, Sir.

Fis.

And fat?

Nor.

He is somewhat corpulent, is he not?

Lat.

You speak the man, sir.

Nor.

Well, look to him, farewell.

Exit Norb.

Lat.

Oh, it is Aubrey; gentlemen, I pray you, Let me receive this under all your hands.

Rus.

Why, he will shew you him in his Magick glasse If you intreate him, and but gratifie A Spirit or two more.

Lat.

He shall eat gold If he will have it, so shall you all; ther's that Amongst you first, let me have this to send The Duke in the meane time; and then what sights You please to shew; Ile have you so rewarded

As never Artists wete, you shall to Court Along with me, and there wait your fortunes.

Bub.

We have a pretty part of't in our pockets; Boy we will all be new, you shall along to.

Exeunt.

ACT. IIII. SCAE. III.

Enter Sophia, Matilda, Edith.

Mat.

Good Madam heare the suit that Edith urges•• With such submisse beseeches; nor remaine So strictly bound to sorrow for your sonne, That nothing else, though never so befitting, Obtaines your eares, o•• ••••servation.

Sop.

What would she say? I heare.

Edith.

My suit is, Madam, That you would please to thinke aswell of Justice Due to your sonnes revenge, as of more wrong added To both your selves for it, in only grieving. Th'undaunted power of Princes, should not be Confin'd in deedlesse cold calamity; Anger, the Twinne of sorrow, in your wrongs Should not be smother'd, when his right of birth Claimes th'ayre as well, and force of comming forth.

Sop.

Sorrow is due already, Anger never Should be conceived but where it may be borne In some fact fit t'employ his active flame, That else consumes who beares it, and abides Like a false starre that quenches as it glides.

Ed.

I have such means t'employ it as your wish Can thinke no better, easier, or securer; And such as but th'honors I intend To your partakings; I alone could end: But your parts in all dues to crying blood For vengeance in the shedder, are much greater••

And therefore should worke your hands to his slaughter, For your consent to which, t'were infinite wrong To your severe and most partiall Justice, To move you to forget so false a sonne, As with a mothers duty made you curse him.

Mat.

Edith, he is forgot, for any son Borne of my mother, or to me a brother. For should we still performe our rights to him We should partake his wrongs, and as foule be In blood and damned paricide as he. And therefore tell the happy meanes that heaven Puts in thy hand, for all our long'd for freedome From so abhorr'd and impious a monster.

Sop.

Tell what she will, I'le lend nor hand nor eare To whatsoever heaven puts in her power.

Exit Sophia.

Mat.

How strange she is to what she chiefly wishes? Sweet Edith be not any thought the more Discourag'd in thy purpose, but assured Her heart and prayers are thine; and that we two Shall be enough to all we wish to doe.

Ed.

Madam, my selfe alone, I make no doubt Shall be afforded power enough from heaven To end the murtherer: all I wish of you, Is but some richer ornaments and Jewels Than I am able to provide my selfe, To helpe out the defects of my poore beauty; That yet hath been enough, as now it is, To make his fancy mad with my desire? But you know, Madam, women never can, Be too faire to torment an amorous man; And this mans torments I would heighten still, Till at their highest he be fit to kill.

Mat.

Thou shalt have all my Jewels and my mothers, And thou shalt paint too, that his bloods desire May make him perish in a painted fire; Hast thou been with him yet?

Ed.

Beene with him? no; I set that houre backe to haste more his longing•• But I have promis'd to his instruments, The admittance of a visit at our house, Where yet I would receive him with all lustre My sorrow would give leave to, to remove Suspition of my purpose.

Mat.

Thou shalt have All I can adde, sweet wench, in Jewels, tyres•• I'le be my selfe thy dresser, nor may I Serve my owne love with a contracted husband More sweetly, nor more amply than maist thou Thy forward will with his bewitch'd affections: Affects thou any personall ayde of mine My noblest Edith?

Ed.

Naught but your kinde prayers For full effect and speed of my affaire.

Mat.

They are thine, my Edith, as for me, my own; For thou well know'st, if blood shed of the best Should coole and be forgotten, who would feare To shed blood still? or where (alas) were then The endlesse love we owe to worthy men?

Ed.

Love of the worthiest ever blesse your highnesse.

Exeunt.

ACT. V. SCAE. I.

Enter Rollo with a glasse, Aubrey, and servants.

Rol.

I never studied my glasse till now, It is exceeding well; now leave me; cozen, How takes your eye the object?

Aub.

I have learn'd So much sir of the Courtier, as to say Your person do's become your habit; But being called unto it by a noble warre, Would grace an armour better.

Rol.

You are still For that great Art of which you are the master; Yet, I must tell you, that to the encounters We oft attempt, arm'd only thus, we bring As troubled blood, feares mixt with flattring hopes, The danger in the service to as great As when we are to charge quite through and through The body of an Army.

Aub.

I'le not argue How you may ranke the dangers, but will die in't, The ends which they arrive at, are as distant In every circumstance, as farre as honor Is from shame and repentance.

Rol.

You are sower?

Aub

I would speake my free thoughts, yet not appeare so; Nor am I so ambitious of the title Of one that dares talke any thing that was Against the torrent of his owne opinion, That I affect to speake ought may offend you: And therefore gracious Sir, ••e pleased to thinke My manners or discretion have inform'd me That I was borne, in all good ends, to serve you; And not to checke at what concernes me not: I looke not with sore eyes on your rich out-side, Nor wracke my thoughts to find out to what purpose 'Tis now employ'd; I wish it may be good, And that, I hope, offends not for a subject Towards his Prince in things indifferent; To use the austerenesse of a Censuring Cato Is arrogance, not freedome.

Rol.

I commend This temper in you, and will cherish it,

Ent. Hamond with leters.

They come from Rome, Latorch imployed you?

Ham.

True Sir.

Rol.

I must not now be troubled with a thought Of any new designe; good Aubrey reade 'em,

And as they shall direct you, use my power, Or to reply or execute,

Aub.

I will sir.

Rol.

And Captaine, bring a squadron of our guard To th'house that late was Baldwins, and there wait me.

Ham.

I shall.

Rol.

Some two houres hence.

Ham.

With my best care.

Rol.

Inspire me Love, and be thy diety Or scorn'd or fear'd, as now thou favour••st me.

Exit Rollo.

Ham.

My stay to do my duty, may be wrongs Your Lordships privacy.

Aub.

Captaine, your love Is ever welcome; I intreat your patience While I peruse these.

Ham.

I attend your pleasure.

Aub.

How's this, a plot on me?

Ham.

What is contain'd In th'letters that I brought, that thus transports him?

Aub.

To be wrought on by Rogues, and have my head Brought to the axe by knaves that cheate for bread? The Creatures of a parasite, a slave; I finde you heare Latorch, not wonder at it; But that this honest Captaine should be made His instrument, afflicts me; I'le make triall Whether his will or weaknesse made him doe it. Captaine you saw the Duke when he commanded I should do what these letters did direct me, And I presume you thinke I'le not neglect For feare or favour, to remove all dangers How neere soever that man can be to me From whom they should have birth.

Ham.

It is confirm'd.

Aub.

Nor would you Captaine, I believe, refuse, Or for respect of thankefulnesse, or hopes, To use your sword with fullest confidence Where he shall bid you strike.

Ham.

I never have done.

Aub.

Nor will I thinke.

Ham.

I hope it is not question'd.

Aub.

The means to have it so, is now propos'd you•• Draw, so, 'tis well, and next cut off my head.

Ham.

What meanes your Lordship?

Aub.

'Tis sir the Dukes pleasure: My innocence hath made me dangerous, And I must be remov'd, and you the man Must act his will.

Ham.

I'le be a traytor first, before I serve it thus.

Aub.

It must be done, And that you may not doubt it, there's your warran•• But as you read, remember Hamond, that I never wrong'd one of your brave profession; And, though it bee not manly, I must grieve That man of whose love I was most ambitious Could find no object of his hate but me?

Ham.

It is no time to talke now, honor'd Sir, Be pleas'd to heare thy servant, I am wrong'd, And cannot, being now to serve the Duke, Stay to expresse the manner how; but if I doe not suddenly give you strong proofes, Your life is dearer to me than my owne, May I live base, and dye so: Sir your pardon.

Exit Hamond.

Aub.

I am both waies ruin'd, both waies mark't for slaughter On every side, about, behinde, before me, My certaine fate is fix't: were I a knave now, I could avoid this: had my actions But meere relations to their owne ends, I could s••ape now: Oh honesty! thou elder child of vertue, Thou seed of heaven, why to acquire thy goodnesse Should malice and distrust sticke thornes before us, And make us swim unto thee, hung with hazards? But heaven is got by suffering, not disputing•• Say he knew this before hand, where am I then? Or say he do's not know it, where's my Loyalty?

I know his nature, troubled as the Sea, And as the Sea devouring when he's vex'd, And I know Princes are their own expounders. Am I afraid of death? of dying nobly? Of d••ing in mine innocence uprightly? Have I met death in all his formes, and feares, Now on the points of swords, now pitch'd on lances? In fires, and stormes of arrows, battels, breaches, And shall I now shrink frō him, when he courts me Smiling and full of Sanctity? I'le meet him; My loyall hand and heart shall give this to him, And though it beare beyond what Poets feigne A punishment, duery shall meet that paine; And my most constant heart to do him good, Shall check at neither pale affright, nor bloud.

Enter Messenger.

Messen.

The Dutchesse presently would crave your presence,

Aubrey.

I come; and Aubrey now resolve to keep Thy honor living, though thy body sleep.

Exit.

ACT. V. SCAE. II.

Enter Edith, a Boy, and a Banquet set out.

Edith.

Now for a Fathers murther, and thy ruine, All chastity shall suffer if he raigne; Thou blessed soule, look down, and steele thy daughter, Look on the sacrifice she comes to send thee, And through the bloudy cloud behold my piety, Take from my cold heart feare, from my sex pitty, And as I wipe theses teares off, shed for thee, So all remembrance may I loose of mercy; Give me a womans anger bent to bloud, The wildnesse of the winds to drown his prayers, Storme like may my destruction fall upon him, My rage like roving billowes as they rise, Powr'd on his soule to sinke it, give me flattery, (For yet my constant soule neer knew dissembling.

Flattery the food o•• ••ooles, that I may, rocke him And lull him in the Downe of his desires; That in the height of all his hopes and wishes, His heaven forgot, and all his lusts upon him, My hand, like thunder from a could, may seize him. I heare him come, go boy, and entertaine him.

Enter Rollo.

Song.

Take, Oh take those lips away that so swetly were forsworne, And those eyes, like breake of day, lights that doe misleade the Morne, But my kisses being againe, Seales of love, though seal'd in vaine.

Hide, Oh hide those hils of Snow, which thy frozen blossome beares, On whose tops the Pincks that grow are of those that April weares. But first set my poore heart free, bound in those Ioy chaines by thee.

Rol.

What bright star, taking beauties forme upon her, In all the happy lustre of heavens glory, Ha's drop'd downe from the Skye to comfort me? Wonder of Nature, let it not prophane thee My rude hand touch thy beauty, nor this kisse; The gentle sacrifice of love and service Be offer'd to the honor of thy sweetnesse

Edith.

My gracious Lord, no diety dwells here, Nor nothing of that vertue, but obedience, The servant to your will affects no flattery.

Rollo.

Can it be flattery to sweare those eyes Are loves eternall lamps he fires all hearts with? That tongue the smart string to his bow? those sighes The deadly shafts he sends into our soules?

Oh, looke upon me with thy spring of beauty.

Ed.

Your grace is full of game.

Rollo.

By heaven, my Edith, Thy mother fed on Roses when she bred thee.

Ed.

And thine on brambles that have prick'd her heart out.

Rollo.

The sweetnesse of the Arabian winde still blowing Upon the treasures of perfumes and spices, In all their pride and pleasures call thee Mistris.

Ed.

Wil't please you sit sir?

Rol.

So you please sit by me. Faire gentle maid, there is no speaking to thee, The excellency that appeares upon thee Tyes up my tongue: pray speake to me.

Ed.

Of what sir?

Rol.

Of any thing, any thing is excellent•• Will you take my directions? speake of love then; Speake of thy faire selfe Edith; and while thou speak'st, Let me, thus languishing, give up my selfe wen••h.

Ed.

H'as a strange cunning tongue, why doe you sigh sir? How masterly he turnes himselfe to catch me?

Rol.

The way to Paradise, my gentle maide, Is hard and crooked, scarce Repentance finding, With all her holy helpes, the dore to enter. Give me thy hand, what dost thou feele?

Ed.

Your teares sir. You weepe extreamly; strengthen me now justice, Why are these sorrowes sir?

Rol.

Thou't never love me If I should tell thee, yet there's no way left Ever to purchase this blest Paradise, But swimming thither in these teares.

Ed.

I stagger.

Rol.

Are they not drops of blood?

Ed.

No.

Rol.

Th'are for blood then For guiltlesse blood, and they must drop, my Edith, They must thus drop, ••ll I have drown'd my mischiefes.

Ed.

If this be true, I have no strength to touch him.

Rol.

I prethee looke upon me, turne not from me; Alas I doe confesse I'me made of mischiefe, Begot with all mans miseries upon me; But see my sorrowes, made, and doe not thou, Whose only sweetest sacrifice is softnesse, Whose true condition, tendernesse of nature.

Ed.

My anger melts, Oh, I shall lose my justice.

Rol.

Do not thou learne to kill with cruelty, As I have done to murther with thy eyes, (Those blessed eyes) as I have done with malice, When thou hast wounded me to death with scorne, (As I deserve it Lady) for my true love, When thou hast loaden me with earth for ever, Take heed my sorrowes, and the stings I suffer; Take heed my nightly dreames of death and horrour Persue thee not: no time shall tell thy griefes then, Nor shall an houre of joy adde to thy beauties. Looke not upon one as I kill'd thy father, As I was smear'd in blood, do not thou hate me, But thus in whitenesse of my wash't repentance, In my hearts teares and truth of love to Edith, In my faire life hereafter.

Ed.

He will foole me.

Rol.

Oh with thine angell eyes behold and close me, Of heaven we call for mercy and obtaine it; To Justice for our right on earth and have it; Of thee I beg for love, save me, and give it.

Ed.

Now heaven thy helpe, or I am gone for ever, His tongue ha's turn'd me into melting pity.

Enter Hamond and Guard.

Ham.

Keepe the doores safe, and upon paine of death Let no man enter till I give the word.

Guard.

We shall sir.

Exeunt.

Ham.

Here he is in all his pleasure; I have my wish

Rol.

How now? why dost thou stare so?

Ed.

A helpe, I hope.

Rol.

What dost thou here? who sent thee?

Ham.

My brother, and the base malicious Office Thou mad'st me doe to Aubrey, pray.

Rol.

Pray?

Ham.

Pray; pray if thou canst pray, I shall kill thy soule else, Pray suddenly.

Rol.

Thou can'st not be so trayterous.

Ham.

It is a Justice; stay Lady; For I perceive your end; a womans hand Must not rob me of vengeance.

Ed.

'Tis my glory.

Ham.

'Tis mine, stay, and share with me; by the gods, Rollo, There is no way to save thy life.

Rol.

No?

Ham.

No, it is so monstrous, no repentance cures it.

Rol.

Why then thou shalt kill her first, and what this blood Will cast upon thy cursed head.

Ham.

Poore Guard sir.

Ed.

Spare not brave Captaine.

Rol.

Feare, or the divell ha's thee.

Ham.

Such feare sir as you gave your honor'd mother, When your most vertuous brother, sheild like, held her; Such I'le give you, put her away.

Rol.

I will not, I will not die so tamely.

Ham.

Murtherous villaine, wilt thou draw seas of blood upon thee.

Ed.

Feare not, kill him good Captaine, any way dispatch Him, my body's honor'd with that sword that through me, Sends his blacke soule to hell: Oh, but for one hand.

Ham.

Shake him off bravely.

Ed.

He's too strong, strike him.

Ham.

Oh, am I with you Sir? now keepe you from him, What ha••s he got a knife.

Ed.

Looke to him Captaine, for now he will be mischievous.

Ham.

Do you smile Sir? Do's it so tickle you? have at you once more.

Ed.

Oh bravely thrust; take heed he come not in Sir; To him againe, you give him too much r••spite.

Rol.

Yet will you save my life, and I'le forgive thee. And give the all•• all honors, all advancements, Call thee my friend.

Ed.

Strike, strike, and heare him not, His tongue will tempt a Saint.

Rol.

Oh, for my soules sake.

Ed.

Save nothing of him.

Ham.

Now for your farewell, Are you so warry? take you that.

Rol.

Thou, that too; Oh thou hast kil'd me basely, basely, basely.

Dyes.

Ed.

The just reward of murther falls upon thee. How doe you Sir? ha's he not hurt you?

Ham.

No, I feele not any thing.

Aub.

I charge you let us passe.

within.

Guard.

You cannot yet sir.

Aub.

I'le make way then.

Guar.

We are sworne to our Captaine, and till he give the word.

Enter Sophia, Matilda, Aubrey, Lords and attendants.

Ham.

Now let them in there.

Sop.

Oh, here he lies, Sorrow on sorrow seekes me, Oh, in his blood he lyes,

Aub.

Had you spoke sooner This might have beene prevented; Take the Dutchesse, And leade her off, this is no sight for her eyes

Mat.

Oh, bravely done wench.

Ed.

There stands the noble doer.

Mat.

My honor ever seeke thee for thy justice, Oh 'twas a deed of high and brave adventure, A justice even for h••••••en ••o envy at, Farewell my sorrowes, and my teares take truee, My 〈…〉〈…〉 Oh bloody Brother, Till this houre never beauteous; till thy life, Like a full sacrifice for all thy mis••••••efes, Flow'd fro〈…〉〈…〉 ri••ers, never righteous: Oh how my eyes 〈…〉〈…〉 wish then joyes how?

My longing heart even leaping out for lightnesse, But dye thy black sins with thee. I forgive thee.

Aub.

Who did this deed?

Ham.

I, and I'le answer it.

Dies.

Edi.

He faints, oh that same cursed knife has kil'd him.

Aub.

How?

Ed.

He snatch'd it from my hand, for whom I bore it, And as they grapell'd.

Aub.

Justice is ever equall, Had it not been on him, th'adst dy'd too honest. Did you know of his death?

Ed.

Yes, and rejoyce in't.

Aub.

I'me sory for your youth then; though the strictnesse Of Law shall not fall on you, that of life Must presently, go to a Cloyster, carry her, And there for ever lead your life in penitence.

Ed.

Best Father to my soule, I give you thankes, sir, And now my faire revenges have their ends, My vowes shall be my kin, my prayers my friends.

Exit.

Enter Latorche, and Iuglers.

Lat.

Stay there, I'le step in and prepare the Duke,

Nor.

We shall have brave rewards?

Fis.

That is without question.

Lat.

By this time wher's my huffing friend Lord Aubrey? Where's that good Gentleman? oh, I could laugh now, And burst my selfe with meere imagination; A wise man, and a valiant man, a just man; To suffer himselfe be juggl'd out of the world, By a number of poor Gipseys? farewell Swash-buckler, For I know thy mouth is cold enough by this time; A hundred of ye I can shave as neatly, And nere draw bloud in shew: now shall my honor, My power and vertue walke alone: my pleasure Observ'd by all, all knees bend to my worship, All sutes to me as Saint of all their fortunes, Prefer'd and crowded too, what full place of credit, And what place now? your Lordship? no, 'tis common,

But that I'le thinke to morrow on, now for my businesse.

Aub.

Whose there?

Lat.

Dead, my Master dead? Aubrey alive too?

Guard.

Litorche, Sir.

Aub.

Seize his body.

Lat.

My Master dead?

Aub.

And you within this halfe houre; Prepare your selfe good devill, you must to it, Millions of gold shall not redeeme thy mischiefe, Behold the Justice of thy practice, villaine; The masse of murthers thou hast drawn upon us: Behold thy doctrine; you look now for reward, sir, To be advanc'd, I'em sure, for all your labours? And you shall have it, make his gallows higher By ten foot at the least, and then advance him.

Lat.

Mercy, mercy.

Aub.

'Tis too late foole, Such as you ment for mee, away with him.

He is led out.

What gaping knaves are these, bring'em in fellows, Now, what are you?

Nor.

Mathematitians if it please your Lordship.

Aub.

And you drew a figure?

Fis.

We have drawn many.

Aub.

For the Duke, I meane; sir Latorches knaves you are.

Nor.

We know the Gentleman.

Aub.

What did he promise you?

Nor.

We are paid already.

Aub.

But I will see you better paid, go whip them.

Nor.

We do beseech your Lordship, we were hyr'd.

Aub.

I know you were, and you shall have your hyre; Whip'em extremely, whip that Doctor there, Till he record himselfe a Rogue.

Nor.

I am one, Sir.

Aub.

Whip him for being one, and when th'are whip't, Lead'em to the gallows to see their patron hang'd; Away with them.

They are lead out.

Nor.

Ah, good my Lord.

Aub.

Now to mine own right, Gentlemen.

Lord 1.

You have the next indeed, we all confesse it, And here stand ready to invest you with it.

Lord 2.

Which to make stronger to you, and the surer, Then bloud or mischiefes dare infringe againe, Behold this Lady, Sir, this noble Lady, Full of the bloud as you are, of that neerenesse, How blessed would it be?

Aub.

I apprehend you, and so the faire Matilda dare a••cept Me her ever constant servant.

Mat.

In all purenesse, In all humility of heart and services, To the most noble Aubrey, I submit me.

Aub.

Then this is our first tye, now to our businesse.

Lord 1.

We are ready all to put the honor on you, Sir.

Aub.

These sad rights must be done first, take up the bodyes, This, as he was a Prince, so Princely funerall Shall waite upon him: on this honest Captaine, The decency of armes; a teare for him too. So, sadly on, and as we view his blood, May his Example in our Rule raise good.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Hee o••fers his sword at Otto. the fa••••ion joy∣ning, Aubrey between severs t••e brothers.