The tragœdy of Rollo Duke of Normandy Acted by His Majesties Servants. Written by John Fletcher Gent.

THE TRAGOEDY OF ROLLO Duke of NORMANDY.

ACTUS 1. SCENA 1.

Enter Gisbert and Baldwin.

Baldw.

THe brothers then are met?

Gisb.

They are.

Baldw.

Tis thought they may be re∣concil'd.

Gisb.

Tis rather wish'd. For such whose reason doe direct their thoughts Without selfe flattery, dare not hope it Baldwin, The fires of love which the dead Duke believed 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, Vnlesse the tempest of the Princes fury Make troubled Seas, and those Seas yeeld fit Billowes To heave them up, and these are too well practis'd In their bad arts to give way to a calme, Which yeelding rest to good men proves their ruine.

Bald.

And in the shipwrack of their hopes and fortunes

The Dukedome might be sav'd, had it butten That stood affected to the generall good, With that confirm'd zeale which brave Aubrey does.

Gisb.

He is indeed the perfect character of a good man, And so his actions speak him.

Bald.

And did you observe the many doubts & cautions the brothers stood upon before they met?

Gisb.

I did, and yet that ever brothers should Stand on more nice termes then sworne enemies After a war proclaimd would with a stranger, Wrong the reporters credit; they saluted At distance, and so strong was the suspicion Each had of other, that before they durst Embrace, they were by severall servants searcht, As doubting conceal'd weapons; antidotes Tane openly by both, fearing the roome Appointed for the enterview was poysoned; The chaires and cushions with like care survai'd, And in a word, in every circumstance So jealous on both parts, that it is more Then to be fear'd, concord can never joyne Mindes so divided.

Baldw.

Yet our best endeavours Should not be wanting Gisbert.

Gisb.

Neither shall they,

Enter Granpree and Verdon.

But what are these?

Baldw.

They are without my knowledge, But by their manners and behaviours They should expresse themselves.

SCENA 2.

Gisbert, Baldwin, Granpree, Verdon.

Gran.

Since we serve Rollo The eldest Brother, weel be Rollians, Who will maintaine us as brave as Romans You stand for him?

Verd.

I doe.

Gran.

Why then observe, How much the businesse, the so long'd for businesse, By men that are nam'd from their swords concernes you: Lechery, our common friend, so long kept under With whips and beating fatall hemp shall rise; And baudry in a French-hood shall plead before her Where it shall be concluded, after twelve Virginity shall be carted.

Verd.

Excellent!

Gran.

And Hell but grant the quarrell thats betweene The Princes may continue, and the businesse That's of the sword, t'outlast three sutes in law. And we will make Atturneys lans prizadoes, 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 carrouse To their most lowsey fortunes.

Baldw.

Here's a statesman!

Gran.

A Creditor shall not dare but by petition To make demand of any debt, and that Only once every leap yeare, in which if The debtor may be won for a French Crown To pay a souse, he shall be registred His benefactor.

Verd.

The Chancellour heares you.

Gran.

Feare not, I now dare speak as lowd as he, And will be heard and have all that I speak law. Have you no eyes? there's a reverence due From children of the gowne to men of action.

Gisb.

How's this?

Gran.

Ev'n so, the times, the times are chang'd, All businesse is not now prefer'd in parchment, Nor shall a grant passe which wants this broad seale, This seale, doe you see? your gravity once laid My head and heeles together in the dungeon For cracking a scald officers crowne, for which A time is come for vengeance and expect it,

For know you have not full three houres to live.

Gisb.

Yes somewhat longer.

Gran.

To what end?

Gisb.

To hang you, think on that Ruffion.

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 tir'd with killing some five hundred, Provide a bath, and her to entertaine me. And that shall be your ransome.

Baldw.

Impudent raskall!

SCENA 3.

Enter to them Trevile, and Duprete.

Gisb.

More of the crue.

Gran.

What are you Rollians?

Trevile.

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

Gran.

You seeme men of fashion, And therefore ile deale fairely, you shall have The honour this day to be chronicled The first men kill'd by Granpree; you see this sword, A prettie foolish toy, my valours servant, And I may boldly say a Gentleman, It having made when it was Charlemaines 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 The servant of your servant, which shall be proud To be scowr'd in your sweet guts, till when, Pray you command me.

Exeunt o••nes praeter Gisbert & Baldwin.

Gran.

Your Idolater Sir.

Gish.

That ever such Should hold the names of men! Or justice be held cruelty, when it labours To pluck such roots up.

Baldw.

Yet they are protected, and by the great ones.

Gisb.

Not the good ones Baldwin.

SCENA. 4.

Aubrey, Gilbert, Baldwin.

Aub,

Is this a time to be spent thus by such That are the principall ministers of the State? When they that are the heads have fill'd the Court With factions, a weake woman only left To stay their bloudy hands? can her weake arme Alone divert the dangers ready now To fall upon the Common-wealth, and bury The honours of it, leaving not the name Of what it was? O Gisbert the faire tryalls And frequent proofes which our late Maister made Both of your love and faith, gave him assurance To choose you at his death to be a Guardian, nay A Father of his Sonnes, 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 practises you should prevent. And where's the use of your Philosophy In this so needfull 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 be imputed yours.

Bald.

'Twas not in me my Lord to alter nature.

Gisb.

Nor can my Counsells work on thē that will not Vouchsafe me hearing.

Aub.

Doe these answers sort Or with your place or persons? or your years? Can Gisbert being the piller of the Lawes See them trod u••der foot, or forc't to serve The Princes unjust ends, and with a frowne Be silenc'd from exclaiming on the abuse, Or Baldwin only weepe the desperate madnesse Of his seduced Pupills? See those minds Which with good arts he labour'd to build up,

Examples of succeeding times oreturn'd By undermineing Parasites; no one precept Leading to any act, or great or good But is forc'd from their memory, in whose roome Black Counsailes are receiv'd and their retirements And secret conference, produceing only Divelish designes, a man would shame to father. But I talke when I should doe, and chide others For that I now offend in.

SCENA 5.

Rollo, Lator••h, Trevile, Granpree, Otto, Verdon, Duprete, Gisbert, Baldwin, Aubrey.

Gisb.

See't confirm'd: Now doe or never speak more, We are yours.

Rollo:

You shall know who I am.

Otto:

I doe, my equall.

Rol.

Thy Prince, give way, were we alone ide force thee In thy best bloud to write thy selfe my subject, And glad I would receive it.

Aub.

Sir.

Gisb.

Deare Lord.

Otto.

Thy subject?

Rol.

Yes, nor shall tame patience hold mee 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.

Otto.

I need it not, and would scorne to receive Though offer'd what I want not, therefore know From me though not deliver'd in great words, Eies red with rage, poore pride, and threatning action; Our father at his death, then when no accent Wer't then a sonne could fall from him in vaine, Made us co-heires, our part of land and honours Of equall waight, and to see this confirm'd The oath of these is 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.

Treu.

Nor will we see the will of the dead Duke in∣fring'd.

Lator.

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

Granp.

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

Aub.

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

Roll.

You are troublesome,

to Baldwin,

This is no time for Arguments, my title Needs not your schoole defenees, but my sword With which the Gordian of your Sophistry Being cut, shall shew the Imposture for your lawe.

to Gis.

It is in me to change them as I please, I being above them (Gisbert) Would you have me protect them? Let them then now stretch their extreamest rigour, And seize upon that Traitor, and your tongue Make him appeare first dangerous and then odious, And after under the pretence of safety For the sick State, the Lands and Peoples quiet, Cut off his head, and Ile give up my sword, And fight with them at a more certaine weapon To kill, aud with authority.

Gisb.

Sir I graunt, The Lawes are usefull weapons, but found out To assure innocence not to oppresse.

Roll.

Then you conclude him innocent?

Gisb.

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.

Roll.

Such have none,

That dare move mee in this, hence, I defy you Be of his party, bring it to your lawes, And thou thy double heart, thou popular foole•• Your morrall rules of justice, and her ballance. I stand on my owne Guard.

Otto.

Which thy injustice Will make thy enimies; by the memory Of him whose better part now suffers for thee, Whose reverend ashes with an impious hand, Thou throwst out to contempt, in thy repineing At his so just decree; thou art unworthy Of what his last will, not thy merit gave thee, That art so swolne within, with all those mischiefes That ere made up a Tyrant, that thy brest The prison of thy purposes, cannot hold them But that they break forth, and in thy owne words Discover, what a monster they must serve, That shall acknowledge thee.

Rol.

Thou shalt not live

Offers his sword at Otto, the faction joyneing Aubrey be∣tween severs the Brothers.

To be so happy.

Aub.

Nor your misery Begin in murder; duty, allegeance, And all respect of what you are forsake mee. Doe you stare ons? is this a theater? Or shall these kill themselves, like to manfencers, To make you sport? keepe them asunder, or By Heaven Ile charge on all.

Gran.

Keepe the peace, I am for you my Lord, and if you'l have me•• Ile act the Constables part.

Aub.

Live I to see this! Will you doe that your Enimies dare not wish, And cherish in your selves those furies which Hell would cast out? doe, I am ready, kill me, And these that would fall willing sacrifices To any power that would restore your reason And make you men againe, which now you are not.

Rol.

These are your bucklers boy,

Otto.

My hinderances, And were I not confirm'd, my justice in The taking of thy life, could not waigh 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 dost labour to appeare.

Rol.

Heare this and talke againe, Ile break through all But I will reach thy heart.

Otto.

Tis better guarded.

SCaeNA. 6.

Sophia, Rollo, Otto and the rest.

Soph.

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

Otto.

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 wracks, your blood is mine Your danger's mine, your goodnesse I should share in, And must be branded with those impious markes You stamp on your owne foreheads, and on mine If you goe on thus: for my good name therefore Though all respects of honour in your selves Are in your fury choakt, throw downe your swords•• Your duty should be swifter then my tongue, And joyne your hands while they are innocent, You have heat of blood and youth apt to ambition

To plead an easy pardon for what's past; But all the ills beyond this houre committed, From Gods or men must hope for no excuse.

Gisb.

Can you heare this unmov'd?

Aub.

No Syllable Of this so pious charme, but should have power To frustrate all the juggling deceipts With which the Divell blindes you.

Otto.

I begin to melt, I know not how.

Rol.

Mother, Ile leave you, And Sir, be thankfull for the time you live Till wee meet next, (which shall be soone and suddaine) To her perswasion for you••

Soph.

O yet stay, And rather then part thus, vouchsafe me hearing As enimies, 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 yet a litle longer, and then break•• I kneele to both, and will speak so, but this Takes the authority of a Mothers power, And therefore like my selfe, Otto to thee, And yet observe sonne, how thy Mothers teares Out strip her forward words to make way for 'em, Thou art the younger Otto, yet be now The first example of obedience to me, And grow the elder in my love.

Otto.

The meanes to be so happy?

Soph.

This, yeeld up thy sword, And let thy pietie give thy mother strength To take that from thee, which no enimies force Could ere dispoile thee of•• why dost 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't through Ten thousand times before I will give way To any perill may arrive at thee, And therefore feare not.

Otto.

Tis not for my selfe

But for you Mother; you are now engag'd In more then 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 pietie turnes 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 knowe My Rollo, though he 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 not my owne. Know yet my sonnes when of necessity You must deceive or be deceiv'd, 'tis better To suffer treason then 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 whatsoere else Fires your ambition? 'tis still desperate madnesse, To kill the people which you would be Lords of, With fire and sword to lay that countrey wast, Whose rule you seek for, to consume the treasures Which are the sinewes of your government, In cherishing the factions ••hat destroy it. Far, far be this from you, make it not question'd, Whither you can have interest in that Dukedome, Whose ruine both contend for.

Otto.

I desire But to enjoy my owne which I will keep.

Rollo.

And rather then posteritie shall have cause To say I ruin'd all, divide the Dukedome, I will accept the moietie.

Otto.

I embrace it.

Soph.

Divide me first or teare me limb by limb, And let them, find as many severall graves As there are Villages in Normandy, And 'tis lesse sinne, then so to weaken it. To heare it mention'd doth already make me Envy my dead Lord, and almost blaspheme Those powers which heard my prayers for fruitfulnesse, And did not with my first birth close my wombe. To me alone, my second blessing proves my first, My first of misery, for if heaven That gave me Rollo, there had staid his bounty, And Otto my deere Otto nere had been, Or being, had not been so worth my love, The streame of my affection had run constant In one faire current, all my hopes had been Laid up in one, and fruitfull Normandy In this division had not lost her glories. For as 'tis now 'tis a faire dyamond Which being preserv'd intire exceeds all value, But cut in peeces, (though these peeces are Set in fine gold by the best workmans 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.

Gisb.

How this workes in both!

Baldw.

Prince Rolloes eyes have lost their fire.

Gisb.

And anger, that but ev'n now wholly possessed Good Otto, hath given place to pitty.

Aub.

End not thus Madam, But perfect whats so well begun.

Soph.

I see in both faire signes of reconcilement Make them sure proofes they are so: the fates offer To your free choice, either to live examples Of piety or wickednesse, if the latter Blinds so your understanding that you cannot Pierce through her painted outside, and discover

That she is all deformitie within, Boldly transcend all presidents of mischiefe, And let the last and the worst act of tyrannies, The murther of a Mother but begin The Scene of bloud; 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 starre in the bright sphere of honour, Make me the parent of a 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.

Rollo.

Such and so good loud fame for ever speak you.

Bald.

I, now they meet like brothers.

The brothers throw down their swords and em∣brace.

Gisb.

My hearts joy Flowes through my eyes.

Aub.

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

Otto.

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

Rollo.

Otto is Rollo now, and Rollo Otto, Or as they have one minde, 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 We all this night will at a publique feast With choice wines drowne our late feares, And with Musick welcome our comforts.

Baldw.

Sure and certaine ones.

Soph.

Supported thus I am secure o sonnes, This is your Mothers triumph.

Exeunt omnes praet. Gran∣pre, Verdon, Trevile, Dupr••

Rollo.

You deserve it.

Gran.

Did ever such a hop'd for businesse end thus?

Verd.

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

Gran.

Why, what's my hope?

Verd.

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

Gran.

Plague upon you.

Verd.

What think you of a bath, and a Lords daughter To entertaine you?

Gran.

Those desires are of fraile thoughts: All friends, no Rollions now, nor Ottoes, The severall curtesies of our swords and servants Deferr till apter consequence: let's make use Of this nights freedome, a short Parliament to us, In which it will be lawfull to walk freely, Nay to our drink we shall have meat too, and thats No usuall business•• to the men 'oth sword. Drink deep with me tonight, we shall to morrow Or whip or hang the merrier.

Trev.

Lead the way then.

Exeunt.

Enter Latorch and Rollo.

Lator.

Why should this trouble you?

Rollo.

It does and must doe, Till I finde ease.

Lator.

Consider then and quickly, And like a wise man take the current with you Which once turn'd head will sink you. Blest occasion offers it selfe in thousand safeties to you, Time standing still to point you out your purpose, And resolution (the true child of vertue) Ready to execute: what dull cold weaknesse Has crept into your bosome, whose meere thoughts Like tempests ploughing up the soyling Forrests Ev'n with their swing were wont to shake down hazards. What ist your mothers teares?

Rollo.

Prethee be patient.

Lator.

Her hands held up, her prayers, or her curses? O Power of prayer dropt through by a woman. Take heed the Souldiers see it not, 'tis miserable In Rollo, below miserable, take heed your friends The sinewes of your cause, the strength you stir by, Take heed I say, they finde it not; take heed

Your own repentance (like a passing bell) Too late and too lowd tell the world you are perish'd. What noble spirit eager of advancement, Whose imployment is his plough, what sword whose sharp∣nesse 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?

Rollo.

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

Lat.

Poore hearts then.

Rollo.

Our worthier friends.

Lat.

No friends Sir to your honour, Friends to your fall, where is your understanding The noble vessell that your full soule sail'd in, Rib'd round with honours, where is that? tis ruin'd, The tempest of a womans sighes hath sunk it. Friendship, take heed Sir, is a smiling harlot That when she kisses, kisses a soder'd friendship Peec'd out with promises; ô painted ruine!

Rollo

Latorch, he is my brother.

Lat.

The more doubted, For hatred hatch'd at home is a tame Tiger, May fawne and sport, but never leave his nature. The jarres of brothers•• two such mighty ones, Are like a small stone throwne into a river, The breath 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 in distrusts, distrusts pull down dangers, And dangers death, the greatest extreame shadow Till nothing bound them but the Showers, their graves. There is no manly wisdome nor no safety In leaning to this league, this peece patcht friendship, This rear'd up reconcilement on a billow Which as he tumbles•• totters down your fortune. Ist not your own you reach at? law and nature Vshring the way before you, is not he borne and Bequeath'd your subject?

Rollo.

Ha?

Lat.

What foole would give a storme leave to disturb him When he may shut the casement? can that man Has woon so much upon you by your pitty, And drawne so high, that like an ominous Comet He darkens all your light, can this cou••h'd Lyon (Though now he licks and locks up his fell pawes Craftily humming like a Cat to cozen you) But ambition whets him and time fits him, Leap to his prey, and seiz'd once, suck your heart out? Doe you make it conscience?

Rollo.

Conscience Latorch? what's that?

Lat.

A teare they tye up fooles in: natures coward, Tasting the bloud and chilling the full spirits With apprehension of meere cloudes and shadowes.

Rollo.

I know no conscience, nor I feare no shadowes.

Lat.

Or if you did, if there were conscience, If the free soule could suffer The fiery minde, such puddle 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?

Rollo.

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 yee. If there be conscience, Let it not come betwixt a Crowne and me, Which is my hope of blisse, and I believe it Otto, our friendship thus I blowe to ayre A bubble for a boy to play withall, And all the vowes my weaknesse made like this, Like this poore heartlesse rush, I rend a peeces.

Lat.

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

Rollo.

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

Lat.

Now you are a man Sir.

Rollo,

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 bloud. A crowne, a crowne, ô sacred rule now fire me, Nor shall the pitty of thy youth false brother, Although a thousand Virgins kneele before me•• And every dropping eye a Court of mercy, The same bloud with me, nor the reverence Due to my Mothers blessed wombe, that bred us Redeem thee from my doubts: thou art a woolfe here Fed with my feares, and I must cut thee from me, A crowne, a crowne, ô sacred rule now fire me, No safety else.

Lat,

But be not too much stirr'd Sir, Nor too 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-edg'd wit work. This happy feast, the full joy of your friendship shall be his last.

Rollo.

How my Latorch?

Lan.

Why thus Sir. Ile presently goe dive into the Officers That minister at Table, gold and goodnesse With promise upon promise, and time necessary Ile poure into 'em.

Rollo.

Canst thou doe it neatly?

Lat.

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

Rollo.

Goe and prosper.

Lat.

Walk in then and your smoothest face put on Sir.

Exeunt.

SCOENA 2,

Enter the M^r Cook, Butler, Pantler, Yeoman of the Cellar, with a Iack of beere and a dish.

Cooke.

A hot day, a hot day, vengeance hot boyes, Give me some drink; this fire's a plaguy fretter. Body a me I am dry still, give me the Iack boy, This wooden skiffe holds nothing.

Pant.

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

Cook.

Old and young boy, let em all eat, I have it, I have ballasse for their bellies, if they eat, a Gods name Let em have ten tire of teeth a peece, •• care not.

Butl.

But what new rare munition?

Cook.

Peuh a thousand, Ile make yee Pigs speak French at table, and a fat Swan Come sculing out of England with a challenge. Ile make yee a dish of Calves feet dance the Canaries, And a consort of cram'd Capons fiddle to em. A Calves head speak an Oracle, and a dozen of Larkes Rise from the dish, and sing all supper time; Tis nothing boyes, I have fram'd a fortification, Out of Rye past, which is impregnable, And against that for two long houres together, Two doz••n of maribones shall play continually. For Fish ile make ye a standing lake of White-broth, And Pikes come ploughing up the plumbes before 'em•• Arion on a Dolphin playing Lachrimae, And brave King Herring with his oyle and onyon Crownd with a leomon pill, his way prepar'd with his strong guard of pilchers.

Pant

I marry maister.

Cook.

All these are nothing, ile make ye a stubble goose Turne oth toe thrice, doe a crosse point presently And then sit downe againe, and cry, come eate mee. These are for mirth, now Sir, for matter of mourning Ile bring ye in the lady loyne of Veale With the long love she bore the Prince of Orenge.

Omn.

Thou boy, thou!

Cook.

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

Yeo. Sel.

What's that good master?

Cook.

Tis a sacrifice, a full vine bending like an Arch, And under the blowne god Bacchus sitting on a hogs-head his altar heere, before that a plump Vintner, Kneeling and offering incense to his Deity, Which shall be only this, red spratts and pilchers.

But.

This when the Tables drawne, to draw the wine in.

Cook.

Thou hast it right, And then comes thy Song butler.

Pant.

This will be admirable.

Yeo. Sel.

O Sir, most admirable.

Cook.

If you'l have the paste speak, 'tis in my power I have fire enough to worke it, come stand close, And now rehearse the Song it may be perfect, The drinking song, and say I were the Brothers.

The Song.

Drinke 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 wit, 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 drinkes well loves the common wealth. And he that will to bed goe sober, Falls with the leafe still in October.

Finis.

Well have you borne your selves, a red-deere pye boies, And that no leane one, I bequeath your ••ertues. What friends hast thou to day, no Cittizens?

Pant.

Yes father the old Crew.

Cook.

By the Masse true, wenches Sirrha, set by a choine of beefe and a hot pastie•• And let the jole of Sturgion be corrected, And doe you marke sir, stalke me to a Pheasant And see and yee can shoote her into the Seller.

Pant.

Godamercy dad,

Send me thy roaring bottles, And with such Nectar I will see 'em fill'd, That all thou speak'st shall be pure Helicon. Mounsieur Latorch, what newes within?

Enter Lator.

Lator.

Save ye, Save ye maister, save ye Gentlemen, You are casting for this preparation, This joyfull supper for the royall brothers: I'me glad I have met yee fitly, for to your charge My bountifull brave Butler, I must deliver A beavy of young lasses, that must looke on This daies solemnity, and see the two Dukes Or I shall loose my credit, you have stowage.

Butl.

For such freight ile finde roome, & be your servāt.

Cook.

Bring 'em, they shall not starve here, ile send 'em victualls Shall worke you a good turne, though it be ten daies hence sir.

Lator.

Godamercy noble maister.

Cook.

Nay ile doe't.

Yeo. Sel.

And Wine they shall not want, let 'em drink like ducks.

Lator.

What misery it is that mindes so royall, And such most honest bounties as yours are, Sould be confin'd thus to uncertainties?

Butl.

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

Yeo. sel.

Then we could shew our selves and helpe our friends sir.

Cook.

I then there were some savour in't, where now We live betweene two stooles, every hower ready To tumble on our No••es, and for ought we know yet For all this supper, ready to fast the next day.

Lator.

I would faine speake to you out of pitty, Out of the love I beare you, out of honesty, For your own goods, nay for the generall blessing.

Cook••

And we would as fain hear you, pray goe forward.

Lator.

Dare ye•• but think to make your selves up cer∣tainties, Your places and your credits ten times doubled The Princes favour Rolloes?

Butl.

A sweet gentlema••.

Yeo. sel.

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

Cook••

By th'masse a royall gentleman indeed boies, Hee'l make the Chimnies smoake.

Lator.

He would doe friends, And you too, if he had his right, true Courtiers, What could ye want then? dare yee? —

Cook.

Pray be short sir.

Lator.

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

Cook.

Dare not me Monsieur, For I that feare neither fire nor water sir, Dare doe enough a man would think••

Yeo. sel.

Beleeve't sir, But make this good upon us you have promis'd, You shall not finde us flinchers.

Lator.

Then ile be suddaine.

Pant.

What may this meane, and whether would he drive us?

Lator.

And first for what you must doe, because all dāger Shall be apparently ti'de up and mussel'd, The matter seeming mighty, there's your pardons.

Pant.

Pardons? is't come to that? good god defend us.

Lator.

And here's five hūdred crowns in bounteous earnest. And now behold the matter.

Lator. gives each a paper.

Butl.

What are these Sir?

Yeo. sell.

And of what nature? to what use?

Lator.

Imagine.

Cook.

Will they kill rats? they eat my pies abhominably, Or worke upon a woman, cold as Christmasse? I have an old jade sticks upon my fingers. May I tast 'em?

Lator.

Is your will made? And have you said your prayers? for they'l pay ye, And now to come to you for your knowledge, And for the good you never shall repent yee, If ye be wisemen now.

Cook.

Wise as you will sir,

Lator.

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

Butl.

You'l keep faith with us?

Lator.

May I no more see light else.

Cook.

Why 'tis done then.

Butl.

Tis done.

Pant.

Tis done which shall be undone.

Lator.

About it then, farewell, ye are all of one mind?

Cook.

All.

Omn.

All, all.

Lator.

Why then, all happy.

Exit.

But.

What did we promise him?

Yeo. sel.

Doe you aske that now?

Butl.

I would be glad to know what 'tis.

Pant.

Ile tell yee, It is to be all villaines knaves and traitors.

Cook.

Fine wholsome titles,

But.

But if we dare goe forward.

Cook.

We may be hang'd drawd & quartred.

Pant.

Very true Sir

Cook.

What a goodly swinge shall I give the gallowes, yet I thinke too, This may be done, and we may be rewarded Not with a rope, but with a Royall master, And yet we may be hang'd too.

Yeo. sel.

Say 'twere done, Who is it done for? is it not for Rollo and for his right?

Cook.

And yet we may be hang'd too.

Butl.

Or say he take it, say we be discover'd.

Yeo. sel.

Is not the same man bound still to protect us? Are we not his?

Butl.

Sure he will never faile us.

Cook.

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 easly done,

As easy as a man would rost an egge, If that be all; for look ye gentlemen•• Here stands my broths: my finger slipps a litle, Downe drops a dose, I stirre him with my ladle, And there's a di••h for a Duke: Olla podrilla: Here stands a bak't meate, he wants a litle seas••ing A foolish mistake, my spice boxe gentlemen. And put in some of this, the matters ended: Dredge ye a dish of Plovers, there's the art on't, Or in a galingale a little does it.

Yeo. sel.

Or as I fill my wine.

Cook.

Tis very true Sir Blessing it with your hand, thus, quick and neatly first, Tis past.

Yeo. sel.

And done once tis as easy•• For him to thank us for it, and reward us.

Pant.

But 'tis a damned sinne.

Cook.

I never feare that, The fire's my playfellow, and now I am resolv'd boyes.

But.

Why then have with yee.

Yeo. sel.

The same for mee.

Pa••t.

For me too.

Cook.

And now no more our worships, but our Lordships.

Pā.

Not this yeare o' my knowledge, ile un-lord ye.

Exeūt.

SCENA 3.

Enter Serv••nt aud Shewer.

Ser.

Perfume the roome round: and prepare the table: Gentlemen officers waite in your places.

Shewer.

Make roome there, Roome for the Dukes meate, Gentlemen be bare there, Cleere all the entrance, Guard put by those papers, And Gentlemen Vshers see the Gallery cleere The Dukes are coming on.

Ho boyes and banquet.

Enter Sophia between Rollo and Otto, Aubrey, La∣torch, Gisbert, Baldwin, attendants Ham••••, Matilda.

Serv.

Tis certainly inform'd.

Otto.

Reward the fellow, And looke you mainely to it.

Ser.

My life for you Sir.

Soph.

Now am I straight my Lords, and young againe, My long since blasted hopes shoote out in blossomes, The fruits of everlasting love appearing. O my blest boyes, the honour of my yeares, Of all my cares the bounteous faire rewarders! O let me thus embrace you, thus for ever Within a mothers love lock up your friendships, And my sweet sonnes, once more with mutuall twin••ings, As one chast bed begot you, make one body: Blessings from heaven in thousand showers fall on yee.

Aub.

O womans goodnesse never to be equall'd, May the most sinfull creatures of thy Sex, But kneeling at thy Monument, rise Saints.

Soph.

Sit downe my worthy sonnes, my Lords your places. I, now me thinks the Table's nobly furnish't, Now the meat nourishes, the wine gives Spirit, And all the roome stuck with a generall pleasure, Shewes like the peacefull bower 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 stubborne heart be drunk with sorrow Refuses it, men dying now should take it, And by the vertue of this Ceremony Shake off their miseries and sleepe in peace,

Roll.

You are sad my noble brother.

Otto.

no indeed Sir.

Soph.

No sadnesse my sweet sonne this day.

Roll.

Pray ye eate, Something is here you have lov'd, ••ast of this dish, It will prepare your Stomack.

Otto.

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

Roll.

Or that, You put us out of heart man, come these bak'd meats Were ever your best dyet.

Otto.

None I thanke you.

Soph.

Are you well noble Child?

Otto.

Yes gratious mother.

Roll.

Give him a cup of wine then, pledge the health, Drinke it to me ile give it to my mother.

Soph.

Doe my best child.

Otto.

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.

Roll.

Excuse your selfe sir, Come tis your feare, & not your feaver brother, And you have done me a most worthy kindnesse. My Royall mother, and my noble Lords, Heare, for it now concernes me to speak boldly, What faith can be expected from such vowes, From his dissembling smiles, what fruit of friendship, From all his full embraces, what blest issue, When he shall brand me here with base suspition? He takes me for a poysoner.

Soph.

Gods defend it sonne.

Roll.

For a foule knave, a villaine, and so feares mee

Otto.

I could say something too.

Soph.

You must not so sir, Without your great forgetfulnesse of virtue. This is your brother and your honour'd brother, Indeed your loving brother.

Roll.

If he please so.

Soph.

One noble Father with as noble thoughts, Begot your minds and bodies, one care rockt you, And one truth to you both was ever sacred; Now fye my Otto, whether flyes your goodnesse? Because the right hand has the power of cutting, Shall the left presently cry out, hee's maymde? 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 Counsailors then doubts and feares, They strangle nature, and disperse themselves If once beleev'd, into such foggs and errors, That the bright truth her selfe can never sever. Your brother is a Royall gentleman, Full of him selfe honour and honesty, And take heed Sir, how nature bent to goodnesse, (So straight a Cedar to himselfe) uprightnesse Be wrested from his true use, prove not dangerous.

Roll.

Nay my good brother knowes I am to patient.

Lator.

Why should your grace think him a poys••ner? Has he no more respect to piety, And but he has by oath tyde up his fury, Who durst but think that thought?

Aub.

Away thou firebrand.

Lator.

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

Bald.

For shame cōtain thy tongue, thy poysonous tongue, That with her burning Venome will infect all, And once more blow a wildfire through the Dukedome.

Gisb.

Latorch, if thou bee'st honest or a man, Containe thy selfe.

Aub.

Goe to, no more, by heaven You'l finde you have plaid the foole else, Not a word more.

Soph.

Prethee sweet sonne.

Roll.

Let him alone sweet mother, and my Lords To make you understand how much I honour This sacred peace, and next my innocence, And to avoid all future 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 yee.

Aub.

Shall we waite upon your Grace?

Rol.

I dare not break yee, La Torch.

Exit Roll. & Lator.

Soph.

Doe you now perceive your brothers sweetnesse?

Otto.

O mother that your tendernesse had eyes, Discerning eyes, what would this man appeare then?

The tale of Synon when he took 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 Navy, and had tales Able to take the eares of Saints beliefe too, and what did all these? blew the fire to Ilion. My brother has put on, oh I could tell yee But for the reverence I beare to nature, Things that would make your honest bloud move backwar••

Soph.

Yee dare tell me.

Otto.

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

Soph.

Is this the joy I lookt for?

Otto.

All will mend. Be not disturb'd deere mother: Ile not faile you.

Exit So∣phia, & Otto.

Baldw.

I doe not like this.

Aub.

That's still in our powers, But how to make it so that we may like it—

Bald.

Beyond us ever. Latorch me thought was busie, That fellow, if not lookt to narrowly, will doe a suddain mis∣chiefe.

Aub.

Hell look to him, For if there may be a divell above all yet, That rogue will make him. Keep your selfe up this night. And so will I, for much I feare a danger.

Bald.

I will, and in my watches use my praiers.

Exeunt.

ACTUS 3. SCENA 1.

A Stoole set out.

Enter Sophia, Otto, Matilda, Edith.

Otto.

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 suspicious; As if beneath those vailes, he did ••onvey

Intents and practises of hate and treason.

Soph.

It breeds indeed my wonder.

Otto.

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

Soph.

Though in remote and further off affection These falshoods are so common, yet in him They cannot so force nature.

Otto.

The more neere the bonds of truth binde, The more oft they sever, Being better cloakes to falshood ever.

Soph.

It cannot be that fruits (the tree so blasting) Can grow in nature, take heed (gentle sonne) Lest some suborn'd suggester of these treasons Beleev'd in him by you, provok'd, the rather His tender envies to such fowle attempts. Or that your too much love to rule alone Bred not of him this jealous passion, There is not any ill we might not beare Were not our good held at a price too deere.

Otto.

So apt is treachery to be excus'd That innocence is still aloud abus'd, The fate of vertue ev'n her friends perverts To plead for vice oftimes against their hearts; Heavens blessing is her cur••e, which she must beare, That she may never love.

Soph.

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, Lest you should make your meanes to scape your snare, Doubt of sincerenesse is the only meane, Not to incense it but corrupt it cleane.

Otto.

I rest as far from wrong of all syncerenesse, As he flies from the practise, trust me (Madam) I know by their confessions he suborn'd, What I should eat, drink, touch, or only have sented This evening feast was poyson'd, but I feare,

His open violence more that tr••••herous odds In his insatiate thirst of rule•• Is like to execute.

Soph.

Beleeve it sonne, If still his stomack be so foule, to feed On such grosse objects, and that thirst to rule The state alone, be yet unquencht in him, Poysons and such close treasons ask more time Then 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 Madame 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 Rollo's appetites Alter and rage with every puffe of breath? His swelling bloud exhales, and therefore heare What gives my temperate brother cause To use his circumspection, and consult, For remedy gainst all his wicked purposes; If he arme, arme, if he strow mines of treason Meet him with countermines, 'tis justice still (For goodnesse sake) to encounter ill for ill.

Sop••.

Avert from us such justice (equall heaven) And all such cause of justice.

Otto.

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

Enter Rollo arm'd and Latorch.

Rollo,

Perish all the world Ere I but loose one foot of possible Empire By sleights and colour us'd by slaves and wretches, I am exempt by birth from both those curbes,

And sit above them in all justice; since I sit above in power, where power is giv••n, Is all the right suppos'd of earth and heaven.

Lat.

Prove both Sir, see the Traitour.

Otto.

He comes arm'd. See mother now your con••••dence.

Soph.

What rage Affects this monster?

Rollo.

Give me way or perish.

Soph.

Make thy way Viper if thou thus affe••t it.

Otto.

This is a Trea••on like thee.

Rollo.

Let her goe.

Soph.

Embrace me, weare me as thy sheild my sonne, And through my brest let his rude weapon run To thy lives innocence.

Otto.

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

Rollo.

Loose his hold.

Mat.

Forbeare base murtherer.

Rollo.

Forsake our Mother.

Soph.

Mother, do it thou name me, And put off nature thus?

Rollo.

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

Otto.

Hold.

Soph.

Hold me still.

Otto.

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

Soph.

O thou art lost then.

Ot.

Protect my innocence heaven.

Soph.

Call out murder.

Mat.

Be murdred all, but save him.

Edith.

Murder, murder.

Rollo.

Cannot I reach you yet?

Otto.

No fiend.

Rollo.

Latorch Rescue, I am downe.

Lat.

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

Rollo.

Ha, Have at you there Sir.

Ent. Aub.

Aub.

Author of prodigies, What sights are these!

Otto.

O give me a weapon Aubrey.

Soph.

O part em, part'em.

Aub.

For heavens sake no more.

Otto.

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

Dies.

Soph.

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

Mat.

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

Soph.

O he hath slain his brother, curse him heaven.

Rollo.

Curse and be curst, it is the fruit of cursing. Latorch, take off here; bring too of that bloud To bloudy ore my shirt, then raise the Court, And give it out how he attempted us In our bed naked; shall the name of brother Forbid us to enlarge our state or powers? Or place affects of bloud above our reason, That tells us all things good against another, Are good 'ith same line against a brother.

Exit.

Gisb.

What affaires informe these outcries?

Enter Gibs•• Baldwin,

Aub.

See and grieve.

Gisb.

Prince Otto slaine!

Bald.

O execrable slaughter! What hand hath author'd it?

Aub.

Your Schollers, Baldwin.

Baldw.

Vnjustly urg'd Lord Aubrey, as if I For being his schoolemaster must teach this doctrine. You are his Counsellour did you advise him To this foule parricide?

Gisb.

If rule affect this license, who would live

To worse then dye, in force of his obedience?

Bald.

Heavens cold and lingring spirit to punish sinne, And humane bloud 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 brooks no ground, 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 murmures we can never master. Ladies be pleas'd with what heavens pleasure suffers, Erect your Princely countenances and spirits, And to redresse the mischiefe now resistlesse, Sooth it in shew, rather then curse or crosse it, Wish all amends and vow to it your best, But till you may performe it let it rest.

Gisb.

Those temporizings are both 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 murderer.

Bald.

Power lives before him till his own be drye Of all lives services and humane comforts, None left that looks at heaven 'sleft halfe so base To doe these black and hellish actions grace.

Enter Rollo, Latorch, Hamond, and Guard.

Rollo.

Hast Latorch, And raise the City as the Court is rais'd, Complaining the abhorr'd conspiracy In plot against my life.

Lat.

I shall my Lord.

Exit.

Rollo.

You there that mourne upon the justly slayne Rise 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 stir.

Rollo.

Stir, and unforc't stir, or stir never more. Command her you (grave Beldam) that know better My deadly resolutions, since I drew them

From the infective fountaine of your own, Or if you have forgot, this fiery prompter Shall fix the fresh impression in your heart.

Soph.

Rise daughter serve his will in what we may, Lest what we may not he enforce the rather. Is this all you command us?

Rollo.

This addition Only admitted, that when I endeavour To quit me of this slaughter, you presume not To crosse me wirh a syllable, nor your soules Murmur, nor think against it, but weigh well, It will not help your ill, but help to more; And that my hand wrought thus far to my will Will check at nothing till his circle fill.

Mat.

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

Rollo.

False Traiteresse dye then with him.

Aub.

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

Rollo.

Doe, and take that along with you—so nimble:

He disarms him.

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 need That now compells you, ile consent as far As silence argues to your will proclaim'd. And since no more sonnes of your princely Father Survive 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 asham'd With that faire blessing that in place of plagues Heaven tries our mending disposition with,

Take here your sword, which now use like a Prince, And no more like a Tyrant.

Rollo.

This sounds well. Live and be gratious with us.

Gisb. & Bald.

O Lord Aubrey.

Mat.

He flatter thus?

Soph.

He temporizes fitly.

Rollo.

Wonder invades me, doe you two think much That he thus wisely and with need consents To what I author for your countries good, You being my Tutor, you my Chancellour?

Gisb.

Your Chancellour is not your flatterer Sir.

Bald.

Nor ist your Tutors part to shield such doctrine.

Rollo.

Sir first know you, In praise of your pure Oratory that rais'd me, That when the people who I know by this Are rais'd out of their rests and hastning hither, To witnesse what is done here are arriv'd With our Latorch, you (extempore) Shall fashion an Oration to acquit•• And justifie this forced fact of mine, Or for the proud refusall loose your head.

Gisb.

I fashion an oration to acquit you? Sir know you then that 'tis a thing lesse easy T'excuse a parricide then to commit it.

Roll.

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

Gisb.

Not for the world, •• ••hould powre bloud on bloud, It were another murder to a••••••se Him that fell innocent.

Roll.

Away with him, Hence, haile him straight to execution.

Aub.

Far fly such rigor your amendfull hand.

Rol.

He perishes with him that speaks for him. Guard doe your office on him, on your lives paine.

Gisb.

Tyrant 'twill hast thine own death.

Roll.

Let it wing it,

He threatens mee, villaines teare him peece-meale hence.

Guard.

Avant Sir.

Roll.

Dispatch him Captaine, And bring me instant word he is dispatch't, And how his Rhetorique takes it.

Ham.

Ile not faile sir.

Roll.

Captaine besides, remember this in chiefe, That being executed you deny To all his friends the Rites of funerall, And cast his carcase out to doggs and fowles.

Ham.

Tis done my Lord.

Exit.

Roll.

Vpon your life not faile.

Bald.

What impious dareing is there here of heaven••

Roll.

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

Bald

For feare of death•• Ha, ha, ha.

Roll.

Is death ridiculous with you? Workes misery of age this, or thy Iudgement?

Bald.

Iudgement false Tyrant?

Rollo.

You'l make no Oration then.

Baldw.

Not to excuse But agravate thy murther if thou wilt, Which I will so inforce, ile make thee wreack it (With hate of what thou win'st by't) on thy self With such another justly merited murther.

Rollo.

Ile answer you anon.

Enter Latorch.

Lat.

The Citizens Are hasting Sir in heapes, all full resolv'd By my perswasions of your brothers treasons.

Rollo.

Honest Latorch.

Enter Hamond.

Ham.

See Sir Gisberts head.

Rollo.

Good speed, wast with a sword?

Ham.

An axe my Lord.

Rollo.

An axe, twas vilely done: I would have had Mine own fine headsman done it with a sword, Goe, take this dotard here, and take his head

Off with a sword.

Ham.

Your Schoolemaster?

Roll.

Even he.

Bald.

For teaching thee no better, 'tis the best Of all thy damned Iustices, away Captaine, ile follow.

Edith.

O stay there Duke, And in the midst of all thy bloud and fury Heare a Poore maids petitions, heare a daughter The only daughter of a wretehed father, O stay your hast, as you shall need this mercy.

Roll.

Away with this fond woman.

Edith.

You must heare mee: If there be any sparke of pitty in you, If sweet humanity and mercy rule you. I doe confesse you are a Prince, your anger As great as you, your execution greater.

Roll.

Away with him.

Edith.

O Captaine by thy man-hood By her soft soule that bare thee:—I doe confesse sir, Your doome of justice on your foes most righteous; Good noble Prince looke on me.

Roll.

Take her from me.

Edith.

A curse upon his life that hinders me, May fathers blessing never fall upon him, May heaven never heare his prayers. I beseech you, O Sir, these teares beseech you, these chast hands woe you•• That 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, O mercy sir, for ••is sake mercy, That when your stout heart weepes, shall give you pitty. Here I must growe.

Roll.

By heaven Ile strike thee woman.

Edith.

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

Roll.

Carry him away I say.

Edith.

Now blessing on thee: ô sweet pitty I see it in thy eyes. I charge ye souldiers, Even by the Princes power release my Father, The Prince is mercifull, why doe ye hold him? The Prince forgets his fury, why doe ye tug him? He is old, why doe ye hurt him? speak O speak sir, Speak 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, O speake Prince speake.

Roll.

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

Bald.

All thou canst doe takes but one short houre frō me.

Roll.

Hew off her hands.

Ham.

Lady hold off.

Edith.

No, hew 'em,

Exit Baldwin with the Guard.

Hew off my innocent hands as he commands you, Theyle hang the faster on for deaths convulsion. Tho•• seed of rocks, will nothing move thee then, Are all my teares lost, all my righteous prayers Drown'd in thy drunken wrath? I stand up thus then, Thus boldly bloudy Tyrant, And to thy face in heavens high name defy thee, And may sweet mercy when thy soule sighs for it, When under thy black mischiefes thy flesh trembles, When neither strength nor youth, nor friends nor gold, Can stay one hower, when thy mo••t 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—

Roll.

Save him I say, run save him, save her Father•• Fly and redeeme his head.

Ezit Latorch.

Edith.

May then that pitty, That comfort thou expect'st from heaven, that mercy Be lockt up from thee, ••ly thee, howlings finde thee, Dispaire, O my sweet father•• stormes of terrors,

Bloud, till thou burst againe.

Enter Latorch Hamond with a head.

Roll.

O faire sweet anger!

Lator.

I came too late Sir, 'twas dispatch't before, His head is heere.

Roll.

And my heart there goe bury him, Give him faire rites of funerall decent honours.

Edith.

Wilt thou not take mee monster? high heaven, Give him a punishment fit for his mischiefe.

Lator.

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 heavy object hence Soone as it came, have better thoughts of him.

Enter the Citizens.

Cit. 1.

Where's this young Traitor?

Lator.

Noble Citizens heere, And heere the wounds he gave your Soveraigne Lord.

Cit. 1.

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

Cit. 2.

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

Roll.

Concluded like an Oracle, O how great A grace of heaven is a wise Citizen! For heaven 'tis makes them wise, as't made mee just, As it preserv'd mee, as I now survive, By his strong hand to keep you all alive, Your wives your childrens goods and lands kept yours, That had been else prey to his Tyrannous power. That would have prey'd on mee, in bed assaulted mee In sacred time of peace, my mother heere, My sister this ••ust Lord, and all had felt The Curtian Gulfe of this conspiracy, Of which my Tutor and my Chancellor, (Two of the gravest and most counted honest In all my Dukedome) were the monstrous heads. O trust no honest men for their sakes ever My politique Citizens, but those that beare,

The names of Cutthroats, Vserers, and Tyrants. O those beleeve in; for the foule mouth'd world Can give no better tearmes to simple goodnesse, Even me it dares blaspheme, and thinks me tyrannou•• For saving mine own life, sought by my brother; Yet those that sought his life before by poison, (Though mine own servants hoping to please me) Ile lea•• to death for't which your eyes shall see.

Cit. 1.

Why what a Prince is here!

Cit. 2.

How just?

Cit. 3.

How gen••le?

Rollo.

Well now my deerest subjects, or much rather My nerves my spirits, or my vitall bloud, Turne to your needfull rest, and setled peace, Fixt in this root of steele, from whence it sprung In heavens great help and blessing, but ere sleep Binde in his sweet oblivions your dull sences, The name and vertue of heavens King advance For you (in chiefe) for my deliverance.

Cit.

Heaven and his King save our most pious Soveraign.

Rollo.

Thanks my good people, mother, & kind sister,

Ex∣eunt Cit.

And you my noble kinsman, things borne thus, Shall make yee 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 eldestbirth his supreme right, Wee'l mourne the cruell influence it beares, And wash his Sepulcher with kindly teares.

Aub.

If this game end thus•• heavens! will rule the seat:

Exeunt om¦nes praeter L••torch & Edith.

What we have yeelded to, we could not let.

Lat.

Good Lady rise and raise your spirits withall More high then 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 yee drowne a hundred helplesse deaths In sea of one life pour'd into your bosome

With which shall flowe into your armes the riches, The pleasures, honours, and the rules of Princes. Which though death stop your eares me thinks should ope them: Assay to forget death.

Edith.

O slaughtered Father!

Lat.

Cast off what cannot be redrest, and blesse The fate that yet you curse so, since 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, ist not sweet? Does it not shine away your sorrowes cloudes? Sweet Lady take wise heart, and heare and tell me.

Edith.

I heare no word you speak.

Lat.

Prepare to heare then, And be not barr'd up from your selfe, nor adde To your ill fortune with your far worse judgement, Make me your servant to attend with all joyes Your sad estate, till they both blesse and speake it: See how theil bowt'ye, make me wait, command me 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 offer'd heights that now attend you. O how your tou••hes ravish! how the Duke is slaine already with your flames imbrac't! I will both serve and visit you and often.

Edith.

I am not fit Sir.

Lat.

Time will make you Lady.

Exeunt.

Enter Guard, 3 or 4 boyes, then the Sheriffe, Cook, Yeo. Seller, Butler, & Pantler to execution.

Guard. 1.

Come bring these fellowes on, away with em.

Guard. 2.

Make roome afore there, Roome there for the prisoners.

Boy. 1.

Lets run afore boyes, we shall get no pla••e else.

Boy. 2.

Are these the youths?

Cook.

These are the youths you look for. And pray my honest friends be not so hasty.

The'rle be nothing done till we come I assure you.

Boy. 3.

Heres a wise hanging, are there no more?

But.

Doe you heare Sir, You may come in for your share ift please you.

Cook.

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

Boy. 2.

Afore, afore boyes, Heres e'en enough to make us sport.

Yeo. sel.

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

Cook.

Doe you heare Sir, You Custard-pate, we goe too't for high treason, An honourable fault, thy foolish father Was hang'd for stealing sheep.

Boyes.

Away, away boyes.

Cook.

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

Pant.

Pray, pray fellowes.

Cook.

Pray for thy crusty soul, where's your reward now Good goodman manchet, for your fine discovery? I doe beseech you Sir, where are your dollers? Draw with your fellows and be hang'd.

Yeo. sel,

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

Coo.

Hang handsomely for shame, come leave your pray∣ing 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 on't, Die me as thou had'st din'd, say grace & God be with you.

Guard.

Come will yee forward?

Cook.

Good Master Sheriffe your leave too. This hasty work was never done well, give us so much time As but to sing our own Ballad, for weel trust no m••n

Nor no tune but our own, 'twas done in Ale too, And therefore cannot be refu••'d in justice, Your penny pot-Poets are such pelting theeves, They hang men ever twice, we have it here Sir, And so must every marchant of our voyage, Heele make a sweet returne else of his credit.

Yeo. sel.

One fit of our own mirth, and then we are for yee.

Guard. 1.

Make hast then and dispatch.

Yeo. sel.

Theres day enough Sir.

Cook.

Come boyes sing cheerefully, we shall never sing younger, We have chose a loud tune too because it should like well,

They sing.

Come fortune's a whore I ••are not who tell her, Would offer to strangle a page of the Celler. That should by his oath to any mans thinking And place, have had a defence for his drinking. But this she does when she pleases to palter, Insteed of his wages she gives him a halter. Three merry boyes, and three merry boyes, and three merry boyes are we, As e're did sing three parts in a string, All under the triple tree.

But I that was so lusty, and ever kept my bottles, That neither they were musty, and sel••ome lesse then pottles. For me to be thus stopt now With h••mp insteed of Corke Sir, And from the Gallows lopt now Shewes that there is a forke Sir In death, and this the Token. Man may be two waies killed, Or like the bottle broken, Or like the wine be spilled. Three merry boyes, &c.

O yet but looke on the master Cook the glory of the kitchin, In sowing whose fate at so lofty ara••e no Tayler had a stitch in

For though he make the man, The Cook yet makes the dishes: The which no Tailor can, Wherein I have my wishes. That I who at so many a feast have pleas'd so many Tasters, Should come my selfe for to be drest, a dish for you my masters. Three merry boyes, &c.

O Man or Beast or you at least, That wears or Brow or Antler, Prick up your eares unto the teares, Of me poore Paul the Pantler. That am thus chipt, because I clipt, The cursed crust of Treason With loyall knife, O dolefull strife, To hang thus without Reason. Three merry boyes, &c.

There's a few copies for ye now, Farewell friends, and good M^r•• Sheriffe let me not Be printed with a brasse pot on my head.

Butl.

March faire, march faire, Afore good Captaine Pantler.

Exeunt.

ACTUS 4. SCENA 1.

Enter Aubrey and Latorch.

Aub.

Latorch I have waited here to speake to you And you must hearken: set not forth your leggs Of hast, nor put your face of businesse on, An honester affaire then this I urge too, You will not easily thinke on, and twill be Reward to entertaine it. 'Tis your fortune To have our maisters Eare above the rest Of us that follow him, but that no man envies, For I have well considered, truth sometimes May be convay'd in by the same conduits That fa••shood is, These courses that he ••akes

Cannot but end in ruine, Empire got By bloud and violence must so be held, And how unsafe it is, he first will prove, That toyling still to remove Enemies Makes himselfe more•• it is not now a Brother•• A faithfull Counsailor of state or two, That are his danger, they are faire dispatcht, It is a multitude that gin 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 easy monster quell'd. Princes may pick their suffering nobles on't, And one by one employ them to the block: But when they once grow formidable to Their Clownes and Coblers, ware then guard themselves•• If you durst tell him this Latorch, the service Would not discredit the good name you hold With men: besides the profit to your maister, And to the publique.

Lator.

I conceive not Sir, Their ayery feares, and why should I object 'em Vnto his fancy, wound what is yet sound? Your Counsells colour not with reason of state, Where all that's necessary still is just. The actions of the Prince, while they succeed, Should be made good and glorifide, not question'd: Men doe but shew their ill affections That—

Aub.

What? speake out.

Lator.

Doe murmure gainst their maisters

Aub.

Is this to mee?

Lator,

It is to whosoever, Mislikes o'the Dukes courses.

Aub.

I? is't so? At your state ward sir.

Lator.

I am sworne to heare, Nothing may prejudice the Prince.

Aub.

Why? doe you?

Or have you? ha?

Lator.

I cannot tell: mens hearts Shew in their words sometimes.

Aub.

I ever thought thee Knave o'th chamber: art thou the spy too?

Lator.

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

Aub.

Baude of the State, No lesse then of thy maisters lusts; I now See nothing can redeeme thee, dar'st thou mention, Affection or a heart that ne're hadst any? Know'st not to love or hate, but by the scale As thy Prince does't before thee, that dost never Weare thine own face, but putst on his, and gatherst Baites for his eares, liv'st wholy at his beck, And ere thou durst utter a thought thine owne, Must expect his, creep'st forth and wad'st into him, As if thou wert to passe a ford, there proving Yet, if thy tongue may step on safely or no, Then bringst his virtue a sleepe, and staist the wheele Both of his reason and Iudgement that they move not, Whit'st over all his vices, and at last Dost draw a cloud of words before his eyes, Till neither he can see thee nor himselfe. Wretch I dare give him honest Counsells, I, And love him whil'st I tell him truth: old Aubrey Dares goe the straightest way, which still's the shortest. Walke on the thornes thou scaterst, Parasite, And tread 'em unto nothing: and if thou Then letst a looke fall of the least dislike, Ile rip thy Crowne up with my sword at height, And pluck thy skinne over thy face in sight Of him thou flattrest: unto thee I speake it Slave, against whom all lawes should now conspire, And e'ry creature that hath sence be arm'd, As 'gainst the common enimy of mankind, That sleep'st within thy maisters eare, and whisper'st, 'Tis better for him to be fear'd then lov'd,

Bid'st him trust no mans friendship; spare no bloud That may secure him; Tis no cruelty That hath a spatious end for soveraignety, Break all the lawes of kind, if it succeed, An honest noble and praiseworthy deed, While he that takes thy poysons in, shall feele, Their virulent workings in a point of time, When no repentance can bring aide, but all His spirits shall melt, with what his conscience burn'd, And dying in a flatterers armes shall fall unmourn'd. There's matter for you now.

Lator.

My Lord this makes not, For loving of my maister.

Aub.

Loving? no, They hate ill Princes most that make 'em so.

Enter Rollo, Hamond, Allan, Guard.

Roll.

Ile heare no more.

Ham.

Alas tis for my brother, I beseech your highnesse.

Roll.

How? a brother? Had not I one my selfe? did title move mee, When it was fit that he should dye? away.

Allan.

Brother loose no word more, leave my good cause To upbraid the Tyrant. Ime glad I am falne Now in those times that will'd some great example T'assure men we can dye for honesty.

Roll.

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

Allan,

Would he would strike as bravely, and thou by Rollo, 'twould make thee quake to see me dye,

Aub.

What's his offence?

Ham.

For giving Gisbert buriall Who was sometimes his Maister.

Allan.

Yes Lord Aubrey, My gratitude and humanity are my Crimes.

Roll.

Why beare you him not hence?

Aub.

My Lord, (stay souldiers) I doe beseech your highnesse doe not loose,

Such men for so sleight clauses, this is one Hath still been faithfull to you, a try'd soule In all your fathers battailes. I have seen him Bestride a friend against a score of foes; And look, he looks as he would kill his hundred For you Sir, were you in danger.

Allan.

Till he kills his Brother, his Chancellour, then his amster, To which he can adde nought to equall Nero But killing of his mother.

Aub.

Peace, brave foole, Thou valiant Asse, here's his brother too Sir, A Captaine of your Guard hath serv'd you long With the most noble witnesse of his truth Mark'd in his face, and ev'ry part about him That turnes not from an enemie•• but view him, And doe not grieve him, Sir, if you doe meane That he shall hold his place, it is not safe To tempt such spirits, and let 'em weare their swords, You make your Guards your terrours by these Acts, And throw more hearts off from you then you hold, And I must tell you Sir (with my old freedome, And my old faith to boot) you have not liv'd so, But that your state will need such men, such hands, Of which here's one shall in an houre of triall Doe you more c••rtaine service with a stroke, Then the whole bundle of your Flatterers, With all th' unsavorie unction of their tongues.

Rollo.

Peace talker.

Aub.

One that loves you yet my Lord, And would not see you pull on your own ruines, Mercy becomes a Prince, and guards him best, A weand affrights they are no ties of love, And when men 'gin to feare the Prince, they hate him.

Rollo.

Am I the Prince or you?

Aub.

My Lord, I hope I have not utter'd ought should urge that question.

Rollo.

Then practise your obedience, see him dead.

Aub.

My Lord.

Rollo.

Ile heare no word more.

Aub.

I am sorry then There is no small dispaire Sir of their safety, Whose eares are blocked up against the truth, Come Captaine.

Ham.

I doe thank you Sir.

Aub.

For what? For seeing thy brother dye a man and honest, Live thou so Captaine, I will so, I assure thee, Although I die for't too. Come. 〈◊〉〈◊〉

Exeunt omnes prae∣ter Rollo, & Latorch.

Rollo.

Now Latorch, What doe you think?

Lat.

That Aubries speech and manners Sound somewhat of the boldest.

Rollo.

Tis his custome.

Lat.

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

Rollo.

If we thought so it should be worth his life, And quickly too.

Lat.

I dare not Sir be author Of what I would, he is so dangerous, But with your highnesse favour and your license.

Rollo.

He talkes 'tis true, and he is licens'd: leave him. We now are Duke alone, Latorch secur'd, Nothing left standing to obscure our prospect, We look right forth, besides and round about us, And see it ours with pleasure: only one Wisht joy there wants to make us so possesse it, And that is Edith, Edith, she that got me In bloud and teares in such an opposite minute, As had I not at once felt all the flames, And shafts of love shot in me (his whole armory) I should have thought him as far off as death.

Lat.

My Lord expect a while, your happinesse Is ne'rer then you think it, yet her griefes Are greene and fresh, your vigilant Latorch Hath not been idle, I have leave already To visit her and send to her.

Rollo.

My life.

Lat.

And if I finde not out as speedy waies, And proper instruments to work and bring her To your fruition, that she be not watch'd Tame to your highnesse, say you have no servant Is capable of such a trust about you, Or worthy to be—of your delight.

Rollo.

O my Latorch, what shall I render thee For all thy travells, care, and love?

Lat.

Sir, one sute, Which I will ever importune till you grant me.

Rollo.

About your Mathematitians.

Lat.

Yes to have The scheme of your nativity judg'd by them. I hav't already erected, O 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, Then all power else, there being no power beyond them••

Rollo.

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

Lat.

What more can concerne me Then this?

Rollo.

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

Lat.

Your Grace is now inspir'd, now, now your Highnes Begins to live, from this houre count your joyes, But Sir, I must have warrants with blanck figures To put in names such as I like.

Rollo.

You shall.

Lat.

They dare not else Sir offer at your figure, O I shall bring you wonders, there's a Fryer, Russee an admirable man Another Gentleman, and then La fiske, The mirrour of his time, 'twas he that set it, But theres one Norbret, (him I never saw) Has made a mirrour, a meere lookin-glasse

In show you'd think't no other, the forme ovall, As I am given to understand by letter, Which renders you such shapes, & those soe differing And some that will be question'd, and give answers, Then has he set it in a frame that wrought Vnto the revolutions of the starres, And so compacted by due proportions Vnto their harmony doth move alone A true Automicon: Thus Dedalus Statues Or Vulcans stooles—

Rollo.

Do'st thou beleeve this?

Lat.

Sir, Why what should stay my faith or turn my sence, He has been about it above twenty yeares, Three seavens, the powerfull and the perfect numbers, And art and time Sir can produce such things, What doe we read there, that Hiarbaes banq••et The great Gymnosophist that had his Butlers And Carvers of pure gold wait at the table: The images of Mercury too, that spoke, The wooden Dove that flew, a Snake of Brasse That hist: and Birds of silver that did sing. All these were done Sir by the Mathematiques: Without which there's no science nor no truth.

Rollo.

You are in your own sphere (Latorch) & rather Then Ile contend with you for it, Ile beleeve you. Yo' have woon upon me that I wish to see My fate before me now, what ere it be.

Lat.

And Ile endeavour you shall know't with speed, For which I should have one of trust goe with me, If you please, Hamond, that I may by him Send you my first dispatches: after I Shall bring you more, as they come more, And accurate forth from them.

Rollo.

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

Exeunt.

SCENA 2.

Enter Russe, De bube, La Fiske, Norbret, Pippeau.

Russe.

Come beare up Sirs, we shall have better daies, Mine Almanack tells mee.

Bube.

Whats that, your rumpe.

Russ.

It never itch't in vaine yet; slid La Fiske, Throw off thy sluggish face, I cannot abide To see thee look like a poore Iade i'th pound, That saw no meat these three daies.

Fiske.

S'light to me, It seemes thirteen daies since I saw any.

Russ.

How?

Fisk.

I cannot remember that I ever saw Or meat or mony, you may talke of both, To open a mans Stomack or his purse, But feed 'em still with aire.

Bube.

Fryer, I feare You doe not say your office well adaies, I cannot heare your beads knack.

Nor.

Pox, he feeds With lechery, and lives upon th'exchange Of his two eggs and puddings, with the market-women.

Russ.

And what doe you sir with the Advocates wife, That you perswade upon your Doctorall bed, To take the Mathematicall tran••e so often?

Fisk••

Come we are starke nought all; bad's the best on's, Foure of the Seaven deadly spots we are, Besides our lechery we are envious And most, most gluttinous 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 industrious, And now and then send in a Merchants wife Sick o'th husband, or a swearing Butler That mist one of his Boles; a crying maid Had lost a silver spoone: the Curry-combe

Sometimes was wanting, there was something gotten But now —

Pip.

What now, did I not yester-morning Bring you in a Cardicue there from the Peasant, Whose Asse I had driven aside and hid that you Might conjure for him? and then last night Six souse from the Cookes wife, yee shard among yee To set a figure for the pestle I stole, It is not at home yet. These things my maisters, In a hard time they would be thought on, you Talke o'your Lands, and Castles in the aire O'your twelve houses there, but it is I That bring you in your rents for'em, tis Pipeau That is your bird cal'd.

Nor.

Faith he does well, And cuts through the Element for us, I must needs say In a fine dextrous line.

Fisk.

But not as he did At first, then he would saile with any winde Int' ev'ry creek and corner.

Pip.

I was light then, New built and rigg'd, when I came to you Gentlemen, But now with often and farre ventring for you, Here be leakes sprung, and whole plancks wanting, see you, If you'l new sheath me againe, yet I am for you To any bog or sleights, where you'l send mee, For as I am, where can this ragged barke Put in for any service, lesse it be I'th ile of Rogues, and there turne Pyrate for you.

Norb.

Faith he saies reason, Fryer you must leave Your neat crispt Clarret, and fall to your Sider A while; and you La Fiske your larded Capons And Turkies for a time, and take a good Cleane tripe in your way; Debube too must content him With wholsome two sous'd pettitoes, no more crowne Or∣dinaries, Till we have clothd our Infant.

Bube.

So you'l keepe your owne good motions Doctor, your deere selfe.

Fiske.

Yes for we all doe know the latitude O'your concupiscence.

Russ.

Heere, about your belly.

Bube.

You'l pick a bottle open, or a whimsey As soone as the best on us.

Fiske.

And dip your wrist-bands, (For cuffes you ha'none) as comely in the sawce,

Bells Ring within.

As any Courtier — heark, the Bell, who's there.

Exit Pip. and enter againe.

Russ.

Good luck I doe conjure thee, boy look out.

Pip.

They are Gallants, Courtiers, one of 'em is Of the Dukes Bedchamber,

Russ.

Latorch downe, On with your Gowne, there's a new sute arriv'd Did I not tell you Sonnes of honger? Crownes Crownes are comming towards you: wine and wenches You shall have once againe: and Fidlers Into your studies close, each lay his eare This doore, and as you heare mee to prepare you, So come, and put me on that visour only.

Enter Latorch and Hamond.

Lato.

Youl not be farre hence Captain, when the businesse Is done, you shall receive present dispatch.

Ham••

Ile walke sir i'th cloister.

Russ.

Mounsieur Latorch, my sonne, The starres are happy still that guide you hither.

Lator.

I am glad to heare their Secretary say so, My learned Father Russee, where's La Fiske, Mounsieur La Bube, how doe they.

Russ.

At their studies, They are the Secretaries of the Starres 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.

Lator.

For loves sake lets salute 'em.

Russ.

Boy goe see, Tell'em who's heere, say that their friends doe challenge Some portion of their time, this is our minute, Pray them they will spare it, they are the Sunne & Moone

Of knowledge, pitty two such noble lights Should live obscur'd, heere, heere in a Vniversity, Whose beams were fitt' illuminate any Court Of Christendome—

Enter La Fiske, De Bube, and Pipeau.

Fisk.

Well look upon the Astrolobe, you'l finde it For Almucanturies at least.

Bube.

It is so.

Russ.

Still of their learned stuffe, they care for nothing. But how to know, as negligent of their bodies In Dyet or else, especially in their clothes As if they had no change.

Pip.

They have so little, As may well free'em from the name of shifters.

Fisk.

Mounsieur Latorch.

Lator.

How is it learned Gentlemen, With both your vertues.

Bube.

A most happy houre When we see you sir.

Lator.

When you heare me then, It will be happier; The Duke greets you both Thus, & though you may touch no mony father, Yet you may take it.

Ru••s,

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

Fisk.

We have heard of late his highnesse good successe.

Bube.

And gratulate it.

Lator.

Indeed he hath scap't a strange conspiracy, Thanks to his starres, which starrs he prayes by mee, You would againe consult and make a judgement On what you lately erected for my love.

Russ.

O sir, we dare not.

Fisk.

For our lives.

Bube.

It is The Princes Scheme.

Lator.

T'incounter With that feare Here's to assure you, his signet, write your names,

And be secur'd all three.

Bub.

We must intreat some time Sir••

Lat.

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

Fisk.

Ha' you the Scheme here?

Lat.

Yes.

Russ.

I would you had Sir Another warrant.

Lat.

What would that doe.

Russ.

Marry, We have a Doctour Sir that in this businesse 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 sute to see him•• Here is a warrant (Father), I conceiv'd That he had soly apply'd himselfe to Magick.

Rus.

And to these studies too Sir, in this field He was imitated: but we shall hardly Draw him from his chaire.

Lat.

Tell him he shall have gold.

Fisk.

O such a syllable would make him forsweare Ever to breath in your sight. Sir, he (if you doe please to give any thing) Must hav't convai'd under a paper.

Rus.

Or left behinde some book in his study.

Bub.

Or in some old wall.

Fisk.

Where his Familiars May tell him of it, and that pleases him sir.

Bub.

Or else Ile goe 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 bait 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 goe then; is he so learn'd Gentlemen?

Fisk.

The very top of our profession, mouth of the Fa••••••, Pray Heaven his spirits be in good humour to take, They'le fling the gold about the house else.

Bub.

I, And beat the Fryer, if he goe not well Furnisht with holy water.

Fisk.

Sir you must observe him.

Bub.

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

Fisk.

If he doe come, which is a hazard yet, Mas he's there, this is speed.

Enter Norbret, Russee, Pip••eau.

Norb.

Where is your scheme? Let's see't; dispatch: nay fumbling now, who's this?

Rus.

Chiefe Gentleman of the Dukes chamber Doctour.

Norb.

O let him be, good even to him, he's a Courtier, Ile spare his complement tell him: whats here? The geniture nocturnall longitude At twenty one degrees the latitude At forty nine and ten minutes, how are the Cardines?

Fisk.

Libra in twenty foure, forty foure minutes, And Capricorne.

Norb.

I see't see the Planets Where, how they are dispos'd, the Sunne and Mercury•• Mars with the Drago••s taile, the third house, And pars fortuna in the Imo coeli. Then Iupiter in the twelfe, the Cacadaemon.

Bud.

And Venus in the second, inferna porta.

Norb.

I see it, peace•• then Satu••••e i••th fift, Luna ith'seaventh, and much of Scorpio, That Mars his gaudium rising in the ascendant, That joint with Libra too, the house of Venus, And Imum Coeli, Mars his exultation Ith' seaventh 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 gen••tures, Whether you examine it by Ptolomies way, Or Nasahales, Laell, or Alkindus.

Fisk••

No other Planet hath so many dignities

Either by himselfe, or in regard o'th Cuspes.

Norb.

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 dignitie, She being in Aries in the seaventh house Where Sol exalted is the Alchocoden.

Bub.

Yes for you see he hath his termine In the degrees where she is fand enjoyes By that six dignities.

Fisk.

Which are cleerely more Then any else that view her i'the scheme.

Norb.

Why I saw this, and could ha told you to•• That he beholds her with a trine aspect Here out of Sagitary, almost partly, And how that Mars out of the selfe same house, (But another signe) here by a platique aspect Looks at the hilage, with a quartile ruling The house where the sunne is; all this could I Have told you, but that you will out-run me, and more•• That this same quartile aspect to the Lady of life, Here the seaventh promises some danger, Cauda Draconis being so neere Mars, And Caput Algell in the house of death.

Lat.

How Sir? I pray you cleere that.

Norb.

What is the question first?

Rus.

Of the Dukes life, what dangers threaten him?

Norb,

Apparent and those suddaine: when the Hyley, Or Alchocoden 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 himselfe, expect it.

Lat.

But they may be prevented.

Nor.

Wisdome only, That rules the starres may doe it, for Mars being Lord of the geniture in Capricorne,

Is (if you mark it) now a Sex••ile here With Venus Lady of the Horoscope, So she being in her exilium, which is Scorpio And Mars his gaudium; is o're rul'd by him•• And cleere debillitated, five degrees Beneath her ordinary power, so That at the most she can but mittigate.

Lat.

You cannot name the Persons brings this danger?

Nor.

No, that the starres tells not us, they name no man; Thats a work Sir of another place.

Rus.

Tell him whom you suspect, & hee'l guesse shrewdly••

Lat.

Sir, we doe feare one Aubrey, ift twere he I should be glad, for we should soone prevent him.

Fisk.

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

Nor.

Let me pause a litle, Is he not neere of bloud unto the Duke?

Lat.

Yes reverend sir.

Nor.

Fart for your reverence, Keep it till then, and somewhat high of stature?

Lat

He is so.

Norb.

How old is he?

Fisk.

About seaven and fifty.

Norb.

His head and beard inclining to be gray?

Lat.

Right Sir.

Fisk.

And fat.

Norb.

He's somewhat corpulent, is he not?

Lat.

You speak the man sir?

Norb.

Well look to him, farewell.

Exit Norb••

Lat.

O 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 intreat him; and but gratifie A spirit or two more.

Lat.

He shall eat gold If he will have it, so you shall all, there's that Amongst you first: let me have this to send.

The Duke in th' meane time•• and then what sights You please to shew Ile have you so rewarded As never Artists were: you shall to Court Along with mee; and ther•• no•• waite your fortunes.

Bube.

We have a pretty•• pa•••• on't in our pockets: Boy we will all be new, you shall along too••

Exeunt.

E••ter Sophia, Matilda, Edith.

Mat.

Good Madam heare the fute that Edith urges With such submisse beseeches, nor remaine So strictly bound to sorrow for yo•••• sonne, That nothing else, though never so befitting, Obtaines your eares or observation••

Soph.

What would she say? I heare.

Edith.

My sute is Madam, That you would please to think as well 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 twin os sorrow) in your wrongs, Should not be smother'd when his right of birth Claimes th'ayre as well, and force of comming forth.

Soph.

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

Edith.

I have such means t'employ it as your wish Can think no better, easier or securer And such, as but for th'honours I intend•• To your partakings I alone could end•• But your parts in all dues to crying bloud For Vengeance in the shedder, are much greater, And therefore should worke your hands to his slaughter, For your consent, to which 'twere infinite wrong, To your severe and most impartiall 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 sonne Borne of my mother, or to mee a brother, For should we still performe our rights to him, We should pertake his wrongs, and as foule be In bloud and damned Parraoi•••• •••• he: And therefore tell the happy means that heaven Puts in thine hand, for all our long'd for freedome•• From so abhorr'd and impious a Monster.

Soph.

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

Exi••.

Mat.

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

Edith.

Madam my ••elfe alone I make no doubt, Will be afforded power enough from heaven To end the Murderer: all I wish of you, Is but some richer ornaments and jewels, Then I am able to provide my selfe, To help out the defects of my poore beauty, That yet have beene enough as now they are, To make his fancy mad with my desire, But you know Maddam, women never can, Be too faire to torment an Amorous man; And this mans torments I would heighten still, Till at their highest he were fit to kill.

Mat.

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

Edith.

Been with him? no; I set that hower back t'hast more his longing, But I have promis'd to his Instruments, Th'admittance of a Visit at our house, Where yet I would receive him with all luster My sorrow would give leave too, to remove Suspition of my purpose.

Mat.

Thou shalt have, All I can adde, sweet wench, in jewels, tires, Ile be my selfe thy dresser; nor may I Serve mine owne love with an attracted husband, More sweetly nor more amptly then maist thou, Thy forward will with his bewich'd affections: Affects thou any personall aide of mine, Mine noblest Edith?

Edith.

Nought but your kind prayers, For full effect and speed of my affaire.

Mat.

They're thine (my Edith) as for me mine owne, For thou well know'st if bloud shed of the best, Should coole and be forgotten, who would feare To shed bloud still, or where (alas) were then, The endlesse love we owe to worthlesse men.

Edith.

Love of the worthiest ever blesse your highnesse.

Exeunt.

ACTUS. 5. SCENA. 1.

Enter Rollo with a glasse, Aubrey and Servants.

Roll.

I never studied my glasse till now, 'Tis exceeding well, now leave me cosen, How takes your eye the object.

Aub.

I have learnt So much Sir of the Courtier, as to say Your person does become your habit, bu•• Being call'd unto it by a noble warre, Would grace an Armour better.

Roll.

You are still For that great Art, of which you are the maister, Yet I must tell you, that to th'encounters We oft attempt, arm'd only thus we bring As troubled bloud, fears mixt with flattering hopes, The danger in the service too as great, As when we are to charge quite through and through

The body of an Army.

Aub.

Ile not argue How you may ranke the dangers, but will dye in't, The ends which they arrive at, are as distant In e'ry circumstance, as farre as honour Is from shame and repentance.

Roll.

You are soure.

Aub.

I would speak my free thoughts yet not appeare so, Nor am I so ambitious of the title Of one, that dares talke any thing that runne•• Against the Torrent of his owne opinion, That I affect to speake ought may offend you. And therefore gratious Sir, be pleas'd to think, My manners or discretion have inform'd mee, That I was borne in all good ends to serve you, And not to check at what concernes me not, I look not with sore eyes on your rich outside, Nor wrack my thoughts to finde 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 austerene••••e of a censuring Cato, Is arrogance not freedome.

Roll.

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

Enter Hamond with letters.

Roll.

They come from Rhoane, Latorch imploy'd you. I must not now be troubled with a thought, Of any new designe, good Aubrey read them•• And as they shall direct you, use my power Or to reply or execute.

Aub.

I will Sir.

Rollo.

And Captaine bring a squadron of our guard, To the house that late was Baldwins, and there waite mee.

Ham.

I shall.

Roll.

Some two houres hence.

Ham.

With my best care.

Roll.

Inspire mee love, and be thy diety

Or scorn'd or fear'd, as now thou favour'st mee.

Exit Roll.

Ham.

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

Aub.

Captaine your love Is ever welcome. I intreat your patience While I peruse these. How's this? a plot on mee!

Ham.

What is contain'd In the 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 cheat for bread, The creatures of a Parasite, a slave, I finde you here Latorch, nor wonder at it, But that this honest Captaine should be made His instrument, afflicts mee; Ile make tryall, Whether his will or weaknesse made him to it. Captaine you saw the Duke when he commanded I should doe what these letters did direct mee, And I presume you think I'le not neglect For feare or favour, to remove all dangers, How neere soever that man can be to mee, From whom they should have birth.

Ham.

It is confirm'd.

Aub.

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

Ham.

I never have don.

Aub.

Nor will I think.

Ham.

I hope it is not question'd.

Aub.

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

Ile be a traitor first, Before I serve it thus.

Aub.

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

Ham.

It is no time to talke now honour'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 deerer to me then my owne, May I live base and dye, so sir your pardon.

Exit. Ham.

Au.

I am both waies ruin'd, both waies mark'd for slaugh∣ter, On every side about, behind, before mee, My certain fate is fixt, were I knave now I could avoid this: had my actions, But meere relations to their own ends, I could scape now: O honesty, thou elder child of vertue, Thou seed of heaven, why to acquire thy goodnesse, Should mallice and distrust stick thornes before us? And make us swimme unto thee hung with hazards. But heaven is got by suffering, not disputeing: Say he know this before hand, where am I then? Or say he doe not know it, where's my loyalty? I know his nature troubled as the Sea, And as the Sea devouring, where he is vex'd, And I know Princes are their own expounders, Am I afraid of death? of dying nobly? Of dying in my innocence uprightly? Have I met death in all his formes and fears, Now on the points of swords, now pitcht on lances, In fires, in stormes of arrowes, battles, breaches, And shall I now shrink from him when he courts mee? Smile••ng and full of Sanctity? ile meet him, My loyall hand and heart shall give this to him, And though it beare, beyond what Poets feigne,

A punishment; duty shall meet that paine, And my most constant heart to doe him good,

Enter Mess.

Shall check at neither pale affright nor bloud.

Mess.

The Duchesse presently would crave your presence.

Aub.

I come; and Aubrey now resolve to keepe, Thy honour living though thy body sleepe.

Exit.

Enter Edith and a boy. A banquet set out.

Edith.

Now for a Fathers murther and the ruine, All chastity shall suffer if he raigne, Thou blessed soule look downe and steel thy daughter, Looke on the Sacrifice she comes to send thee, And through that bloudy cloud behold my piety. Take from my cold heart feare, from my sexe pitty, And as I wipe these teares off, shed for thee, So all remembrance may I loose of mercy, Give mee a womans anger, bent to bloud, The wildnesse of the winds to drowne his prayers, Stormelike may my destruction fall upon him, My rage like roving Billowes as they rise, Pour'd on his soule to sinke it; give me flattery, (For yet my constant soule nere knew dissembling) Flattery the food of fooles, that I may rock 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 cloud may ceize him,

Enter Rollo.

I heare him come, goe boy and entertaine him.

The Song.

Take ô take those lipps away, That so sweetly were forsworne, And those eyes like break of day, Lights that doe mislead the morne, But my kisses bring againe, Seales of love though seal'd in vaine.

Hide ô hide those hills of Snow, That thy frozen bosome beares,

On whose tops the pincks that grow, Are yet of those that Aprill wears, But first set my poore heart free, Bound in those Icy chaines by thee.

Roll.

What bright starre taking beauties for me upon her, In all the happy lustre of heavens glory, Has dropt downe from the skye to comfort mee? 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 honour of thy sweetnesse.

Edith.

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

Roll.

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, O look upon me with thy spring of beauty.

Edith.

Your Grace is full of game.

Roll.

By heaven my Edith, Thy mother fed on roses when she got thee.

Edith.

And thine on brambles, that hath prickt her heart out.

Roll.

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

Edith.

Wilt please you sit Sir.

Roll.

So you please sit by mee. Faire gentle maid, there is no speaking to thee, The Excellency that appears upon thee Tyes up my tongue, pray speak to mee.

Edith.

Of what sir.

Roll.

Of any thing, and any thing is excellent, Will you take my direction, speak of love then, Speak of thy faire selfe Edith, and whilst thou speakst, Let me thus languishing give up my selfe wench.

Edith.

Has a strange cunning tongue, why doe you sigh sir,

How masterly he turnes himselfe to catch me.

Rollo.

The way to Paradise (my gentle maid) Is hard and crooked, scarce repentance finding With all her holy helps the doore to enter, Give me thy hand, what dost thou feele?

Edith.

Your teares sir, You weep extreamly: strengthen me now Iustice, Why are these sorrowes Sir?

Rollo.

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

Edith.

I stagger.

Rollo.

Are they not drops of bloud?

Edith.

No.

Rollo.

They are for bloud then, For guiltlesse bloud, and they must drop my Edith, They must thus drop till I have drown'd my mischiefes.

Edith.

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

Rollo.

Pree thee look upon me, turne not from me, Ahlas I doe confesse I'me made of mischiefe, Begot with all mens miseries upon me, But see my sorrowes minde, and doe not thou learne, Whose only sweetest sacrifice is softnesse, Whose true condition tendernesse of nature.

Edith.

My anger melts, ô I shall loose my justice.

Rollo.

Doe not thou learne to kill with cruelty, (Those blessed eyes) as I have done with mallice, When thou hast wounded me to death with scorne, As I deserve it Lady for my true love When thou hadst loden me with earth for ever. Take heed my sorrowes, and the stings I suffer, Take heed my nightly dreames of death and horrour Pursue thee not, no time shall tell thy griefes then, Nor shall an houre of joy adde to thy beauties; Look not upon me as I kill'd thy father, As I was smear'd in bloud doe thou not hate me, But thus in whitenesse of my wash'd repentance

In my hearts teares and truth of love to Edith, In my faire life hereafter.

Edith.

He will foole me.

Rollo.

O with thine Angell eyes behold and blesse 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.

Edith.

Now heaven thy help, or I am gone for ever, His tongue has turn'd me into melting pitty.

Enter Hamond and Guard.

Ham.

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

Guard.

We shall Sir.

Ham.

Here he is in all his pleasure.

Rollo.

I have my wish. How now, why dost thou stare so?

Edith.

A help I hope.

Rollo.

What dost thou here? who sent thee?

Ham.

My brother, and the base malitious office Thou mad'st me doe to Aubrey: pray.

Rollo.

Pray?

Ham.

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

Rollo.

Thou canst not be so traiterous.

Ham.

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

Edith.

Tis my glory.

Ham.

Tis mine, stay & 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 c••res it.

Rollo.

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

Ham.

Poore guard Sir.

Ed.

Spare not brave Captaine.

Rol.

Feare or the divell ha thee.

Ham.

Such feare Sir as you gave your honour'd mother, When your most vertuous brother sheild-like held her, Such Ile give you; put her away.

Rol.

I will not, I will not dye so tamely.

Ham.

Murdrous villaine, Wilt thou draw seas of bloud upon thee?

Edith.

Feare not, Kill him good Captaine anyway dispatch him, My body•• ••onour'd with that sword that through me Sends his b••••••k soule to hell, ô but for one hand.

Ham

Shake him off bravely.

Edith.

He's too strong, strike him.

Ham.

O I am with you Sir, now keep you from him, What has he got a knife?

Edith.

Look to him Captaine For now he will be mischievous.

Ham.

Doe you smile Sir? Does it so tickle you, have at you once more.

Edith.

O bravely thrust, take heed he comes not in Sir, To him againe, you give him too much respit.

Rollo.

Yet wilt thou save my life, and ile forgive thee, And give thee all, all honours, all advancements, Call thee my friend.

Edith.

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

Rollo.

O for my soules sake.

Edith.

Save nothing of him.

Ham.

Now for your farewell, Are you so wary, take you that.

Rollo.

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

Dyes.

Edith.

The just reward of murder falls upon thee, How doe you Sir, has he not hurt you?

Ham.

No, I feele not any thing,

Sophia, Matilda, Aubrey, and Lords at the doore.

A••••••

I charge yee let us passe.

Guard.

Yee cannot yet sir.

Aub.

Ile make my way then.

Guard.

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

Enter Soph. Matil. Aub. Lords and attendants.

Ham.

Now let'em in there.

Soph.

O there he lies, sorrow on sorrow seeks me, O in his bloud he lies.

Aub.

Had you spoke sooner this might have beene Prevented, Take the Dutches, And lead her off, this is no sight for her eyes.

Mat.

O bravely done wench.

Edith.

There stands the noble doer.

Mat.

May honour ever seek thee for thy justice, O 'twas a deed of high and brave adventure, A justice even for heaven to envy at. Farewell my sorrowes, and my teares take truce, My wishes are come round, ô bloudy brother, Till this houre never beautious; till thy life Like a full sacrifice for all thy mischiefes Flow'd from thee in these rivers, never righteous, O how mine eyes are quarri'd with their joyes now, My longing heart ev'n leaping out for lightnesse, But, dye thy black sinnes with thee, I forgive thee.

Aub.

Who did this deed?

Ham••

I, and I will answer it.

Dyes.

Edith.

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

Aub.

How?

Edith.

He snatcht it from my hand for whom I bore it, And as they grappell'd?

Aub.

Iustice is ever equall. Had it not been on him th'had'st dy'de too honest. Did you know of his death?

Edith.

Yes, and rejoyce in't.

Aub.

I am sorry for your youth then, for though the strictnesse Of law shall not fall on you, that of life must presently; Goe, to a Cloyster presently carry her, And there for ever lead your life in penitence.

Edith.

Best father to my soule, I give you thanks Sir••

And now my faint revenges have their ends, My vowes shall be my kin, my prayers my friends.

Exit.

Enter Latorch and Iuglers.

Lator.

Stay there, ile step in and prepare the Duke.

Norb.

We shall have brave rewards.

Fisk.

That's without question.

Lator.

By this time where's my huffing friend Lord Aubrey, Where's that good gentleman — O I could laugh now, And burst my selfe with meere imagination, A wise man and a valiant man, a just man Should suffer himselfe to be juggl'd out of the world, By a number of poore Gipsies: farewell swash-buckler, For I know thy mouth's cold enough by this time, A hundred on yee I can shave as neatly, And nere draw bloud in show: now shall my honour My power and vertue walke alone; my pleasure Observ'd by all, all knees bent to my worship, All sute's to mee, as saint of all their fortunes Preferr'd and crowded too: what full place of credit And what place now? your Lordship? no 'tis common, But that ile think to morrow on, now for my businesse.

Aub.

Who's there.

Lator.

Ha dead? my maister dead? Aubrey a live too?

Guard.

Latorch sir.

Aub.

Ceize his body.

Lator.

O my fortune, My maister dead?

Aub.

And you within this halfe houre Prepare your selfe good Divell, you must to it, Millions of gold shall not redeeme thy mischiefes, Behold the justice of thy practise villaine, The masse of murders thou hast drawne upon us, Behold thy Doctrine, you look now for reward sir, To be advanc'd I me sure for all your labours, And you shall have it: make his Gallowes higher By twenty foot at the least, and then advance him.

Lator.

Mercy, mercy, 'tis too late foole.

Exit Lator.

Aub.

Such as you meant for mee, away with him,

What peeping knaves are those, bring'em in fellowes; Now, what are you?

Nor.

Mathematicians, And it like your Lordship.

Aub.

And ye drew a figure.

Fisk.

We have drawn many.

Aub.

For the Duke I mean sir. Latorches knaves you are.

Norb.

We know the gentleman.

Aub.

What did he promise yee.

Nor.

We are paid already.

Aub.

But I will see you better paid, goe whip 'em.

Nor.

We doe beseech your Lordship, we were hired••

Aub.

I know you were and you shall have your hire, Whip 'em extreamely, whip that Doctour there, Till he record himselfe a rogue.

Nor.

I am one Sir.

Aub.

Whip him for being one, and when they'r whipt•• Lead 'em to the gallowes to see their Patron hang'd; Away with 'em.

Nor.

Ah good my Lord.

Exeunt Iuglers.

Aub.

Now to mine owne 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 mischiefe dare infringe againe, Behold this Lady sir, this noble Lady, Full of that bloud as you are, of that neerenesse, How blessed would it be?

Aub.

I apprehend yee, And so the faire Matild•• dare accept mee, Her ever constant servant.

Mat.

In all purenesse, In all humillity of heart and service, To the most noble Aubrey I submit mee.

Aub.

Then this our first tye, now to our businesse.

Lor. 1.

W'are ready all to put that honour on you.

Aub.

These sad rights must be done first. Take up the bo∣dies, 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. Goe sadly on, and as we view his bloud, May his example in our rule raise good.

Exeunt.

Florish.

FINIS.