The tragedy of Thierry King of France, and his brother Theodoret As it was diuerse times acted at the Blacke-Friers by the Kings Maiesties Seruants.

THE TRAGEDIE OF THIERRIE AND THEODORET.

Act. 1. Scoe. 1.

Enter Theodoret, Brunhalt, Bawdbor.

BRVNHALT.

TAxe me with these hot tainters?

Theodoret.

You are too sudaine; I doe but gently tell you what becomes you, And what may bend your honor! how these courses Of loose and lazie pleasures; not suspected But done and knowne, your minde that grants no limit And all your Actions followes, which loose people That see but through a mist of circumstance Dare tearme ambitious; all your wayes hide sores Opening in the end to nothing but vlcers. Your instruments like these may call the world And with a fearefull clamour, to examine Why, and to what wee gouerne. From example If not for vertues sake yee may be honest: There haue beene great ones, good ones, and 'tis necessary Because you are your selfe, and by your selfe

A selfe-peece from the touch of power and Iustice, You should commaund your selfe, you may imagine Which cozens all the world, but chiefly women. The name of greatnesse glorifies your actions And strong power like a pent-house, promises To shade you from opinion; take heede mother, And let vs all take heede, these most abuse vs The sinnes we doe, people behold through opticks, Which shewes vm ten times more then common vices, And often multiplyes vm: then what iustice Dare we inflict vpon the weake offenders When we are theeues our selues?

Brun,

This is, Martell, Studied and pend vnto you, whose base person I charge you by the loue you owe a mother And as you hope for blessings from her prayers, Neither to giue beliefe to, nor allowance. Next I tell you Sir, you from whom obedience Is so farre fled, that you dare taxe a mother; Nay further, brand her honour with your slanders, And breake into the treasures of her credit, Your easinesse is abused, your faith fraited With lyes, malitious lyes, your merchant mischiefe, He that neuer knew more trade then Tales, and tumbling Suspitious into honest harts; what you or hee, Or all the world dare lay vpon my worth, This for your poore opinions: I am shee, And so will beare my selfe, whose trueth and whitenesse Shall euer stand as far from these detections As you from dutie; get you better seruants, People of honest actions without ends, And whip these knaues away, they eate your fauours, And turne em vnto poysons: my knowne credite Whom all the Courts a this side Nile haue enuied, And happy shee could site mee, brought in question Now in my houres of age and reuerence,

VVhen rather superstition should be rendered, And by a Rush that one dayes warmth Hath shot vp to this swelling; giue me iustice, VVhich is his life.

Theod.

This is an impudence, And he must tell you, that till now mother Brought yee a sonnes obedience, and now breakes it Aboue the sufferance of a sonne.

Bawd.

Blesse vs! For I doe now begin to feele my selfe Turning into a halter, and the ladder Turning from me, one pulling at my legs too.

Theod.

These trueths are no mans tales, but all mens trobles, They are, though your strange greatnesse would out stare v'm: VVitnesse the daily Libels, almost Ballads In euery place, almost in euery Prouince, Are made vpon your lust, Tauerne discourses, Crowds cram'd with whisperes; Nay, the holy Temples Are not without your curses: Now you would blush, But your blacke tainted blood dare not appeare For feare I should fright that too.

Brun.

O yee gods!

Theod.

Doe not abuse their names: they see your actions, And your conceald sinnes, though you worke like Moles, Lyes leuell to their iustice.

Brun.

Art thou a sonne?

Theod.

The more my shame is of so bad a mother, And more your wretchednesse you let me bee so; But woman, for a mothers name hath left me Since you haue left your honour; mend these ruines, And build againe that broken fame, and fairely; Your most intemperate fiers haue burnt, and quickly VVithin these ten dayes take a Monasterie, A most strickt house, a house where none may whisper, VVhere no more light is knowne but what may make yee Beleeue there is a day where no hope dwels, Nor comfort but in teares

Brun.

O miserie!

Theod.

And there to cold repentance, and starud penance Tye your succeeding dayes; or curse me heauen If all your guilded knaues, brokers, and bedders, Euen he you built from nothing, strong Portalyde, Be not made ambling Geldings; all your maydes, If that name doe not shame vm, fed with spunges To sucke away their rancknesse; and your selfe Onely to emptie Pictures and dead Arras Offer your olde desires.

Brun.

I will not curse you, Nor lay a prophesie vpon your pride, Though heauen might grant me both: vnthankefull, no, I nourishd yee, twas I, poore I groand for you, Twas I felt what you sufferd, I lamented When sicknesse or sad houres held back your sweetnes; Twas I payd for your sleepes, I watch your wakings: My dayly cares and feares, that rid, plaid, walkt, Discoursd, discouerd, fed and fashiond you To what you are, and am I thus rewarded?

Theod.

But that I know these teares I could dote on em. And knecle to catch vm as they fall, then knit vm Into an Armlet, euer to be honourd; But woman, they are dangerous drops, deceitfuil, Full of the weeper, anger, and ill nature.

Brun.

In my last houres despisd.

Theod.

That Text should tell, How vgly it becomes you to erre thus; Your flames are spent, nothing but smoake maintaines ye, And those your fauour and your bounty suffers Lye not with you, they doe but lay lust on you, And then imbrace you as they caught a palsie; Your power they may loue, and like spanish Iennetts Commit with such a gust.

Bawd.

I would take whipping, And pay a Fine now.

Exit Bawdber.

Theod.

But were yee once disgraced,

Or fallen in wealth, like leaues they would flie from you, And become browse for euery beast; you will'd me To stocke my selfe with better friends, and seruants; With what face dare you see mee, or any mankind, That keepe a race of such vnheard of relicks, Bawds, Leachers, Letchecs, femall fornications, And children in their rudiments to vices, Old men to shew examples: and lest Art Should loose her selfe in act, to call backe custome, Leaue these, and liue like

Niobe.

I told you how And when your eyes haue dropt away remembrance Of what you were. I am your sonne! performe it.

Brun.

Am I a woman, and no more power in me, To tie this Tyger vp, a soule to no end, Haue I got shame and lost my will; Brunhalt From this accursed houre, forget thou bor'st him, Or any part of thy blood gaue him liuing, Let him be to thee, an Antipathy, A thing thy nature sweates at, and turnes backward: Throw all the mischiefes on him that thy selfe Or women worse then thou art, haue inuented, And kill him drunke, or doubtfull.

Enter Bawdber, Protaldye, Lecure.

Baw.

Such a sweate, I neuer was in yet, clipt of my minstrells, My toyes to pricke vp wenches withall; vphold me, It runnes like snowballs through me.

Brun.

Now my varlets, My slaues, my running thoughts, my executions.

Baw.

Lord how shee lookes!

Brun.

Hell take yce all.

Baw.

Wee shall bee gelt.

Brun.

Your Mistresse, Your old and honord Mistresse, you tyr'd curtalls Suffers for your base sinnes; I must be cloyster'd, Mew'd vp to make me vertuous, who can helpe this, Now you stand still like Statues; come Protaldye,

One kisse before I perish, kisse me strongly, Another, and a third.

Lecure.

I feare not gelding As long as she holds this way.

Brun.

The young courser, That vnlickt lumpe of mine, will win thy Mistris, Must I be chast Protaldye?

Prot.

Thus and thus Lady:

Brun.

It shall be so, let him seeke fooles for Vestalls, Here is my cloister.

Lecure.

But what safety Madam Finde you in staying here?

Brun.

Thou hast hit my meaning, I will to Thierry sonne of my blessing, And there complaine me, tell my tale so subtilly That the cold stones shall sweat; and statues mourne, And thou shalt weepe Protaldie in my witnesse, And there forsweare.

Bawd.

Yes, any thing but gelding, I am not yet in quiet Noble Lady, Let it be done to night, for without doubt Tomorrow we are capons.

Brun.

Sleepe shall not sease me, Nor any foode befriend me but thy kisses. E're I forsake this desart, I liue honest? He may as well bid dead men walke, I humbled Or bent below my power? let night dogs teare me, And goblines ride me in my sleepe to Ielly, Ere I forsake my spheare.

Lecure.

This place you will.

Brun.

What's that to you, or any, Yee dosse, you powdered pigsbones, rubarbe glister? Must you know my designes, a colledge on you, The prouerbe makes but fooles:

Prota.

But Noble Lady.

Brun.

You a sawsie asse too, off I will not, If you but anger me, tell a sowgelder

Haue cut you all like colts, hold me and kisse me, For I am too much troubled make vp my treasure, And get me horses priuate, come about it.

Exeunt.

Act. 1. Scoe. 2.

Enter Theodoret, Martell. &c.

Theod.

Thought I assure my selfe (Martell) your counsell Had no end but alleagance and my honour: Yet I am Iealous, I haue pass'd the bounds Of a sonnes duty; for suppose her worse Then you report, not by bare circumstance But euident proofe confirmd ha's giuen her out: Yet since all weakenesses in a kingdome, are No more to be seuerely punished, then The faults of Kings are by the Thunderer As oft as they offend, to be reueng'd: If not for piety, yet for policy, Since some are of necessity to be spar'd, I might, and now I wish I had not look'd With such strict eyes into her follies.

Mart.

Sir, a duety well discharg'd is neuer follow'd By sad repentance, nor did your Highnesse euer Make payment of the debt you ow'd her, better Then in your late reproofes not of her, but Those crimes that made her worthy of reproofe. The most remarkeable point in which kings differ From priuate men, is, that they not alone Stand bound to be in themselues innocent, But that all such as are allide to them In neeren esse, or dependance, by their care Should be free from suspition of all crime; And you haue reap'd a double benefit From this last great act: first in the restraint Of her lost pleasures, you remoue th'example From oth•••••• of the like licentiousnesse,

Then when 'tis knowne that your seueritie Extended to your mother, who dares hope for The least Indulgence or conniuence in The easiest slips that may proue dangerous To you or to the kingdome?

Theod.

I must grant Your reasons good (Martell) if as she is My Mother, she had bene my subiect, or That only here she could make challenge to A place of beeing; but I know her temper And feare (if such a word become a king,) That in discouering her, I haue let loose A Tigres, whose rage being shut vp in darkenesse, Was grieuous only to her selfe; which brought Into the view of light, her cruelty Prouok'd by her owne shame, will turne on him That foolishly presum'd to let her see The loth'd shape of her owne deformity.

Mart.

Beasts of that nature when rebellious threats Begin to appeare only in their eies, Or any motion that may giue suspition Of the least violence, should be chaind vp; Their fanges and teeth, and all their meanes of hurt, Pard of, and knock'd out, and so made vnable To do ill; they would soone begin to loath it. I'le apply nothing, but had you grace done, Or would do yet, what your lesse forward zeale In words did only threaten, far lesse danger Would grow from acting it on her, then may Perhaps haue being from her apprehension Of what may once be practis'd: for beleeue it, Who confident of his owne power, presumes To spend threates on an enimy, that hath meanes To shun the worst they can effect, giues armor To keepe off his owne strength; nay more, disarmes himselfe, and lies vngarded gainst all harmes Or doubt, or malice may produce.

Theod.

'Tis true, And such a desperate cure I would haue vs'd, If the intemperate patient had not bene So neere me as a mother; but to her, And from me gentle vnguents only were To be appli'd: and as phisitians When they are sicke of feuers, eate themselues Such viands as by their directions are Forbid to others, though alike diseas'd, So she considering what she is, may challenge Those cordialls to restore her, by her birth, And priuiledge, which at no suite must be Granted to others.

Mart.

May your pious care Effect but what it aimde at, I am silent.

Enter Deuitry.

Theod.

What laught you at Sir?

Vitry.

I haue some occasion, I should not else; and the same cause perhaps That makes me do so, may beget in you A contrary effect.

Theod.

Why, what's the matter?

Vitry.

I see and ioy to see that sometimes poore men, (And most of such are good) stand more indebted For meanes to breathe to such as are held vitious, Then those that weare like Hypocrites on their foreheads, Th'ambitious titles of iust men and vertuous.

Mart.

Speake to the purpose.

Vitry.

Who would e're haue thought The good old Queene, your Highnesse reuerend mother, Into whose house (which was an Academ,) In which all principles of lust were practis'd, No souldier might presume to set his foote; At whose most blessed intercession All offices in the state, were charitably Confer'd on panders, o're-worne chamber wrastlers, And such phisitions as knew how to kill,

With safety vnder the pretence of sauing, And such like children of a monstrous peace, That she I say should at the length prouide That men of warre and honest younger brothers, That wold not owe their feeding to their cod-peece, Should be esteem'd of more then mothers, or drones, Or idle vagabonds.

Theod.

I am glad to heare it, Prethee what course takes she to do this?

Vitry.

One that cannot faile, she and vertuous traine With her Iewells and all that was worthy the carrying, The last night left the court; and as 'tis more Then sayd, for 'tis confirm'd by such as met her, She's fled vnto your brother.

Theod.

How?

Vitry.

Nay storme not, For if that wicked tonge of hers hath not Forgot its pace, and Thierry be a Prince Of such a fiery temper, as report Has giuen him out for; you shall haue cause to vse Such poore men as my selfe; and thanke vs too For comming to you, and without petitions; Pray heauen reward the good old woman for't.

Mart.

I foresaw this.

Theod.

I heare a tempest comming, That sings mine and my kingdomes ruine; hast, And cause a troope of horse to fetch her backe: Yet stay, why should I vse meanes to bring in A plague that of her selfe hath left me? Muster Our souldiers vp, we'ele stand vpon our gard, For we shall be attempted; yet forbeare The inequality of our powers will yeeld me Nothing but losse in their defeature: something Must be done, and done suddainely, saue your labor, In this i'le vse no counsell but mine owne, That course though dangerous is best. Command Our daughter be in readinesse, to attend vs: Martell, your company, and honest Vitry,

Thou wilt along with me.

Vitry.

Yes any where, To be worse then I am here, is past my feare.

Exeunt.

Act. 2. Scoe. 1.

Enter Thierry, Brunhalt, Bawdber, Lecure. &c.

Thier.

You are here in a sanctuary; and that viper (Who since he hath forgot to be a sonne, I much disdaine to thinke of as a brother) Had better in despight of all the gods, To haue razed their Temples; and spurn'd downe their altars, Then in his impious abuse of you, To haue called on my iust anger.

Brun.

Princely sonne; And in this worthy of a neere name, I haue in the relation of my wrongs Bene modest, and no word my tonge deliuered T'expresse my insupportable iniuries, But gaue my hart a wound: nor has my griefe Being from what I suffer; but that he Degenerate as he is, should be the actor Of my extreames; and force me to deuide The fires of brotherly affection, Which should make but one flame.

Thier.

That part of his As it deserues shall burne no more, if or The teares of Orphans, widdows, or all such As dare acknowledge him to be their Lord, Ioyned to your wrongs, with his hart blood haue powre To put it out: and you, and these your seruants, Who in our fauours shall finde cause to know In that they left not you, how deere we hold them; Shall giue Theodoret to vnderstand, His ignorance of the prizelesse Iewell, which

He did possesse in you, mother in you, Of which I am more proud to bee the doner, Then if the absolute rule of all the world Were offer'd to this hand; once more you are well-come, Which with all ceremonie due to greatnesse I would make knowne, but that our iust reuenge Admitts not of delay; your hand Lord Generall.

Enter Protaldie, wish souldiers.

Brun.

Your fauour and his merrit I may say Haue made him such, but I am iealious how Your subiects will receiue it.

Thier.

How, my subiects? What do you make of me? Oh heauen! my subiects! How base should I esteeme the name of Prince, If that poore dust, were any thing before The whirlewind of my absolute command? Let them be happy, and rest so contented: They pay the tribute of their harts and knees, To such a Prince that not alone h'as power, To keepe his owne but to increase it; that Although he hath a body may adde to The fam'd night labour of strong Hercules: Yet is the maister of a continence That so can temper it, that I forebeare Their daughters, and their wiues, whose hands though strong, As yet haue neuer drawne by vniust meane Their proper wealth into my treasury. But I grow glorious, and let them beware That in their least repining at my pleasures, They change not a mild Prince, (for if prouok'd I dare and will be so) into a Tyrant.

Brun.

You see there's hope that we shall rule againe, And your falne fortunes rise.

Bawdb.

I hope your Highnesse Is pleas'd that I shall still hold my place with you, For I haue bene so long vs'd to prouide you Fresh bits of flesh since mine grew stale, that surely

If cashir'd now, I shall proue a bad Cator In the Fishmarket of cold chastity,

Lecure.

For me I am your owne, nor since I first Knew what it was to serue you, haue remembred I had a soule, but such a one whose essence Depended wholy on your Highnesse pleasure, And therefore Madam---

Brun.

Rest assur'd you are, Such instruments we must not lose.

Lecure. Bawdb.

Our seruice.

Thier.

You haue view'd them then, what's your opinion of em? In this dull time of peace, we haue prepar'd em Apt for the war. Ha?

Prota.

Sir, they haue limbes That promise strength sufficient, and rich armors The souldiers best lou'd wealth: more, it appeares They haue beene drill'd, nay very prettily drill'd, For many of them can discharge their muskets Without the danger of throwing off their heads, Or being offensiue to the standers by, By sweating too much backwards; nay I find They know the right, and left hand file, and may With some impulsion no doubt be brought To passe the A, B, C, of war, and come Vnto the Horne-booke.

Thier.

Well, that care is yours; And see that you effect it.

Prota.

I am slow To promise much; but if within ten dayes, By precepts and examples, not drawne from Worme eaten presidents of the Roman wars, But from mine owne, I make them not transcend All that e're yet bore armes, let it be sayd, Protaldye bragges, which would be vnto me As hatefull as to be esteemde a coward: For Sir, few Captaines know the way to win him, And make the souldiers valiant. You shall seeme

Lie with them in their trenches, talke, and drinke, And be together drunke; and what seemes stranger, We'ele sometimes wench together, which once practisde And with some other care and hidden acts, They being all made mine, i'le breathe into them Such fearelesse resolution and such feruor, That though I brought them to beseege a fort, Whose walls were steeple high, and cannon proofe, Not to be vndermind, they should fly vp, Like swallowes, and the parapet once wonne; For proofe of their obedience, if I willed them They should leape downe againe; and what is more, By some directions they should haue from me, Not breake their neckes.

Thi.

This is aboue beleefe.

Brun.

Sir, on my knowledge though hee hath spoke much, He's able to do more.

Lecure.

She meanes on her.

Brun.

And howsoeuer in his thankefulnesse, For some few fauors done him by my selfe, He left Austrachia, not Theoderet, Though hee was chiefely aimde at, could haue layd With all his Dukedomes power, that shame vpon him, VVhich in his barbarous malice to my honor, He swore with threats to effect.

Their.

I cannot but Beleeue you Madam, thou art one degree Growne neerer to my hart, and I am proud To haue in thee so glorious a plant Transported hither; in thy conduct, we Go on assurde of conquest, our remoue Shall be with the next sunne.

Euter Theoderet, Memberge, Martell, Deuitry.

Lecure.

Amazement leaue me, 'tis hee.

Bawdh.

VVe are againe vndone.

Prot.

Our guilt hath no assurance nor defence.

Bawdh.

If now your euer ready witfaile to protect vs, VVe shall be all discouerde.

Brun.

Be not so

In your amazement and your foolish feares, I am prepared for't.

Theod.

How? Not one poore welcome, In answere of so long a iorney made Only to see your brother.

Thier.

I haue stood Silent thus long, and am yet vnresolude VVhether to entertaine thee on my sword, As fits a parricide of a mothers honor; Or whether being a Prince, I yet stand bound (Though thou art here condemnde) to giue thee hearing Before I execute. VVhat foolish hope, (Nay pray you forbeare) or desperate madnesse rather, (Vnlesse thou comest assurde, I stand in debt As far to all impiety as thy selfe) Has made thee bring thy necke vnto the axe? Since looking only here, it cannot but Draw fresh blood from thy searde vp, conscience, To make thee sensible of that horror, which They euer beare about them, that like Nero, Like sayd I? thou are worse: since thou darest striue In her defame to murther thine aliue.

Theod.

That she that long since had the boldnes to Be a bad woman, (though I wish some other Should so report her) could not want the cunning, (Since they go hand in hand) to lay faire colours On her blacke crimes, I was resolude before, Nor make I doubt but that shee hath impoysonde Your good opinion of me, and so far Incensde your rage against me, that too late I come to plead my innocence.

Brun.

To excuse thy impious scandalls rather.

Prot.

Rather forc'd with feare to be compelde to come.

Thierry

For beare.

Theod.

This moues not mee, and yet had I not beene Transported on my owne integrity, I neither am so odious to my subiects,

Nor yet so barren of defence, but that By force I could haue iustified my guilt, Had I bene faulty: but since innocence Is to it selfe an hundred thousand gardes, And that there is no sonne, but though he owe That name to an ill mother, but stands bound Rather to take away with his owne danger From the number of her faults, then for his owne Security, to adde vnto them. This, This hath made me to preuent th'expence Of bloud on both sides, the iniuries, the rapes, (Pages, that euer waite vpon the war:) The accompt of all which, since you are the cause, Beleeue it, would haue bene required from you; Rather I say to offer vp my daughter, Who liuing only could reuenge my death, With my hart blood a sacrifice to your anger, Then that you shold draw on your head more curses Then yet you haue deserued.

Thier.

I do begin To feele an alteration in my nature, And in his full sailde confidence, a showre Of gentle raine, that falling on the fire Of my hot rage hath quenched it, ha! I would Once more speake roughly to him, and I will; Yet there is something whispers to me, that I haue sayd too much. How is my heart deuided Betweene the duty of a sonne, and loue Due to a brother! yet I am swayed heere, And must aske of you, how tis possible You can affect me that haue learned to hate, Where you should pay all loue?

Theod.

Which ioynde with duty, Vpon my knees I should be proud to tender, Had she not vs'd her selfe so many swords To cut those bonds that tide me to it.

Thier.

Fie, no more of that.

Theod.

Alas it is a theame, I take no pleasure to discourse of; would It could asloone be buried to the world, As it should die to me: nay more, I wish (Next to my part of heauen) that shee would spend The last part of her life so here, that all Indifferent Iudges might condemne me, for A most malicions slanderer: nay texde it Vpon my forehead, if you hate me mother, Put me to such a shame, pray you do, beleeue it There is no glory that may fall vpon me, Can equall the delight I should receiue In that disgrace; prouided the repeale Of your long banishde vertues, and good name, Vsher'd me to it.

Thier.

See, she shewes her selfe An easie mother, which her teares confirme.

Theod.

Tis a good signe, the comfortablest raine I euer saw.

Thier.

Embrace: why this is well, May neuer more but loue in you, and duty On your part rise betweene you.

Bawdh.

Do you heare Lord Generall, Does not your new stampde honor on the suddaine Begin to grow sicke?

Prota.

Yes I finde it fit, That putting off my armor, I should thinke of Some honest hospitall to retiro to.

Bawdh.

Sure although I am a bawd, yet being a Lord They cannot whip me for't, what's your opinion?

Lecure.

The beadle will resolue you, for I cannot, There is something that more neere concernes myselfe, That calls vpon me.

Mart.

Note but yonder scarabes, That liude vpon the dunge of her base pleasures, How from the feare that she may yet proue honest, Hang downe their wicked heads.

Vitry.

What is that to me? Though they and all the polecats of the Court, Were trustde together, I perceiue not how It can aduantage me a cardekue, To helpe to keepe me honest.

A horne. Enter a Post.

Thier.

How, from whence?

Post.

These letters will resolue your grace.

Thier.

What speake they? Reades: How all things meete to make me this day happy? See mother, brother, to your reconcilement Another blessing almost equall to it, Is comming towards me; my contracted wise, Ordella daughter of wise Dataricke The King of Aragon is on our confines; Then to arriue at such a time, when you Are happily heere to honor with your presence Our long deferde, but much wished nuptiall, Falls out aboue expression; heauen be pleasde That I may vse these blessing powrde on me With moderation.

Brun.

Hell and furies ayde me, That I may haue power to auert the plagues That preste vpon me.

Thier.

Two dayes iourny sayest thou, We will set forth to meete her, in the meane time See all things be prepárde to entertaine her: Nay let me haud your companies, there's a Forrest In the midway shall yeeld vs hunting sport, To ease our trauaile, ilenot haue a brow But shall we are mirth vpon it, therefore cleere them, We'cle wash away all sorrow in glad feasts, And the war we meane to men, we'ele make on beasts.

Exeum omnes, praeter Brun. Bawdber, Portaldy, Lecure.

Brun.

Oh that I had the Magicke to transform you Into the fhape of such, that your owne hounds Might teare you peece-meale; are you so stupid? No word of comfort? Haue I fed you mothers

From my excesse of moysture, with such cost, And can you yeeld no other retribution, But to deuoure your maker, pandar, sponge, Impoysner, all growne barren?

Prota.

You yourselfe That are our mouer, and for whom alone We liue, haue failde your selfe in giuing way To the reconcilement of your sonnes.

Lecure.

Which if You had preuented, or would teach vs how They might againe be seuerde, we could easily Remoue all other hindrances, that stop The passage of your pleasures.

Bawdb.

And for me, If I faile in my office to prouide you Fresh delicates, hang me.

Brun.

Oh you are dull, and finde not The cause of my vexation; their reconcilement Is a mocke-castle built vpon the sand By children, which when I am pleasde to o'rethrow, I can with ease spurne downe.

Lecure.

If so, from whence Growes your affliction?

Brun.

My griefe comes along With the new Queene, in whose grace all my powre Must suffer ship wracke: for me now, That hitherto haue kept the first, to know A second place, or yeeld the least precedence To any others, death; to haue my sleepes Lesse inquirde after, or my rising vp Saluted with lesse reuerence, or my gates Empty of suitors; or the Kings great fauours To passc through any hand but mine, or hee Himselfe to be directed by another, Would be to me: do you vnderstand me, yet No meanes to preuent this.

Prota.

Fame giues her out

To be a woman of a chastity Not to be wrought vpon, and therefore Madam For me, though I haue pleasde you, to attempt her VVere to no purpose.

Brun.

Tush, some other way.

Bawdb.

Faith I know none else, allmy bringing vp Aimdeat no other learning.

Lecure.

Giue me leaue, If my art faile me not, I haue thought on A speeding proiect.

Brun.

VVhat ist? but effect it, And thou shalt be my AEsculapius, Thy image shall be set vp in pure gold, To which i'le fall downe and worship it.

Lecure.

The Lady is faire.

Brun.

Exceeding faire.

Lecure.

And young.

Brun.

Some fifteene at the most.

Lecure.

And loues the King with equall ordor.

Brun.

More, she dotes on him.

Lecure.

VVell then, what thinke you if I make a drinke VVhich giuen vnto him on the bridall night, Shall for fiue dayes so rob his faculties Of all ability to pay that duty, VVhich new made wiues expect, that she shall sweare She is not matchde to a man.

Prota.

'T were rare.

Lecure.

And then If she haue any part of woman in her, She'le or fly out, or at least giue occasion Of such a breach which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 can be made vp, Since he that to all else did neuer faile Of as much as could be performide by man, Proues only ice to her.

Brun.

'Tis excellent.

Bawdb.

The Phystian Helps euer at a dead lift; a fine calling, That can bothraise, and take downe, our vpon thee.

Brun.

For this one seruice I am euer thine, Prepare it; ile giue it him my selfe, for you Protaldye, By this kisse, and our promisde sport at night, (do coniure you) to beare vp; not minding The opposition of Theodoret, Or any of his followers; what so ere You are, yet appeare valiant, and make good The opinion that is had of you: for my selfe In the new Queenes remoue, being made secure, Feare not, ile make the future building sure.

Exeunt. Windhornes. Enter Theodoret, Trierry.

Theodoret.

This Stag stood well, and cunningly.

Thierry.

My horse I am sure, has found it, for her sides are Blooded from flanke to shoulder, wheres the troope?

Enter Martell.

Theodoret.

Past home-ward, weary and tirde as we are, Now Martell, haue you remembred what we though of?

Mart.

Yes Sir, I haue snigled him, and if there be Any desert in his blood, beside the itche, Or manly heare, but what decoctions Leaches, and callises haue cramde into him, Your Lordship thall know perfect.

Thier.

VVhats that, may not I know too?

Theod.

Yes Sir, To that end we cast the proiect.

Thierry.

VVhat ist?

Mart.

A desire Sir, Vpon the gilded flag your graces fauour Has stuck vp for a Generall, and to informe you, For this houre hee shall passe the test, what valour, Stayd iudgement, soule, or safe discretion Your mothers wandring eyes, and your obedience Haue flung vpon vs, to assure your knowledge, He can bee, dare be, shall be, must be nothing, Loade him with piles of honors; set him off

With all the cunning foyles that may deceiue vs: But a poore, cold, vnspirited, vnmannerde, Vnhonest, vnaffected, vndone, foole, And most vnheard of coward, a meere lumpe Made to loade beds withall, and like a nightmare Ride Ladies, that forget to say their prayers, One that dares only be diseased, and in debt, Whose body mewes more plaisters euery month, Then women do old faces.

Thier.

No more, I know him, I now repent my error, take your time And try him home, euer thus far reseru'd, You tie your anger vp.

Mart.

I lost it else Sir. violence,

Thier.

Bring me his sword faire taken, without For that will best declare him.

Theod.

That's the thing.

Thier.

And my best horse is thine.

Exit.

Mart.

Your graces seruant.

Theod.

You'le hune no more Sir,

Thier.

Not to day, the weather Is growne too warme, besides, the dogges are spent, We'ele take a cooler morning, let's to horse, And hollow in the troope.

Exeunt. Windhornes.

Enter 2 Huntsmen.

1.

I marry Twainer, This woman giues indeed, these are the Angells That are the keepers saints.

2.

I like a woman That handles the deeres dowsets with discretion; And payes vs by proportion:

1.

Tis no treason To think this good old Lady has a stumpe yet That may require a currall.

2.

And the bells too,

Enter Protaldie.

She has lost a friend of me else, but here's the clarke, No more for feare ath bell ropes:

Prota:

How now Keepers, Saw you the King?

1

Yes Sir, he's newly mounted, And as we take it ridden home.

Pro:

Farewell then.

Exit Keepers.

Enter Martell.

My honord Lord, Fortune has made me happy To meete with such a man of men to side me.

Protal.

How Sir? I know ye not, Nor what your fortune meanes.

Mart.

Few words shall serue, I am betraide Sir, Innocent and honest; malice, and violence Are both against me, basely and fowly layd for; For my life Sir, danger is now about mee, Now in my throate Sir.

Protaldye.

Where Sir?

Mart.

Nay I feare not, And let it now powre downe in stormes vpon me, I haue met a noble guard:

Prot.

Your meaning Sir, For I haue present businesse.

Mart.

O my Lord, Your honour cannot leaue a gentleman At least a faire designe of this braue nature, To which your worth is wedded, your profession Hatcht in, and made one peece, in such a perrill, There are but six my Lord.

Prot.

What six?

Mart.

Six villaines sworne, and in pay to kill mee.

Protaldye.

Six?

Mart.

Alas Sir, what can sixe do, or six score now you are present, Your name will blow em off, say they haue shot too, Who dare present a peece? your valour's proofe Sir.

Prot.

No, i'le assure you Sir, nor my discretion Against a multitude; 'tis true I dare fight, Enough, and well enough, and long enough: But wisedome Sir, and weight of what is on me, In which I am no more mine owne, nor yours Sir, Nor as I take it, any single danger, But what concernes my place, tells me directly, Beside my person my faire reputation,

If I thrust into crowds, and seeke occasions Suffers opinion, six? VVhy Hercules Auoyded two man, yet not to giue example: But only for your present dangers sake Sir, Were there but foure Sir, I car'd not if I killd vm, They will serue to set my sword.

Mart.

There are but foure Sir, I did mistake vm, but foure such as Europe Excepting your great valour.

Prot.

Well considerde, I Will not medle with vm, foure in honor, Are equall with fourescore, besides they are people Only directed by their fury.

Mart.

So much nobler shall be your way of Iustice.

Prot.

That I find not.

Mart.

You will not leaue me thus?

Prot.

I would not leaue you; but looke you Sir, Men of my place, and busines, must not Be questioned thus.

Mart.

You cannot passe Sir, Now they haue seene me with you, without danger, They are heere Sir, within hearing, take but two.

Prot.

Let the Law take vm, take a tree Sir, Ile take my horse, that you may keepe with safety: If they haue brought no hand-sawes, within this hourc Ile send you rescue, and a toyle to take vm.

Mart.

You shall not go so poorely, stay but one Sir.

Prot.

I haue bene so hamperde with these rescues, So hewde and torturde, that the truth is Sir, I haue mainly vowde against vm, yet for your sake, If as you say there be but one, ile stay, And see faire play a both sides.

Mart.

There is no More Sir, and as I doubt a base one two.

Prot.

Fie on him, go lug him out by the eares.

Mart.

Yes: This is he Sir, the basest in the kingdome.

Prot.

Do you know me?

Mart.

Yes for a generall foole, A knaue, a coward, and vpstart stallion bawd, Beast, barking puppy, that dares not bite.

Prot.

The best man best knowes patience.

Mart.

Yes, This way Sir, now draw you sword, and right you. Or render it to me, for one you shall do.

Prot.

If wearing it may do you any honor, I shall be glad to grace you, there it is Sir.

Mart.

Now get you home, and tel your Lady Mrs. She has shot vp a sweete mushrump, quit your place too, And say you are counselde well, thou wilt be beaten else By thine owne lanceprisadoes; when they know thee, That tunes of oyle of roses wil not cure thee; Go get you to your foyning worke at Court, And learne to sweate agen, and care dry mutton; An armor like a frost will search your bones, And make you rore you rogue; not a reply, For if you do your cares go off.

Prot.

Still patience.

Exeunt. Loude Musicke, A Banquet set out. Enter Trierry, Ordella, Brunhalt, Theodoret, Lecure, Bawdbor, &c.

Thier

It is your place, and though in all things else You may and euer shall command me, yet In this ile be obeyde.

Ordella.

Sir, the consent That made me yours, shall neuer teach me to Repent I am so, yet be you but pleasde To giue me leaue to say so much; the honor You offer me were better giuen to her, To whom you owe the power of giuing.

Thier.

Mother, You heare this and reioyce in such a blessing That payes to you so large a share of duty, But fie no more, for as you hold a place Neerer my heart then she, you must fit neerest

To all those graces, that are in the power Of Maiesty to bestow.

Brun.

Which i'le prouide, Shall be short liude, Lecure.

Lecure.

I haue it ready.

Brun.

'Tis well, waite on our cup.

Lecure.

You honor me.

Thier.

We are dull, No obiect to prouoke mirth.

Theod.

Martell, If you remember Sir, will grace your feast With something that will yeeld matter of mirth, Fit for no common view.

Thier.

Touching Protaldye.

Theod.

You haue it.

Brun.

What of him? I feare his basenosse aside In spight of all the titles that my fauors Haue clothde him, which will, make discouery Of what is yet concealde.

Enter Martell

Theod.

Looke Sir, he has it, Nay wee shall haue peace when so great a souldier As the renoumde Protaldye, will giue vp His sword rather then vse it.

Brun.

'Twas thy plot, Which I will turne on thy owne head. aside

Thier.

Pray you speake, How wonne you him to part from't?

Mart.

Wonne him Sir, He would haue yeelded it vpon his knees Before he would haue hazarded the exchange Of a phillip of the forehead: had you willde me, I durst haue vndertooke he should haue sent you His nose, prouided that the losse of it Might haue sau'd the rest of his face; he is Sir The most vnutterable coward, that ere nature Blest with hard shoulders, which were only giuen him,

To the ruine of bastinados.

Thierry

Possible:

Theod.

Obserue but how shefrets.

Mart.

Why belecue it: But that I know the shame of this disgrace, Will make the beast to liue with such, and neuer Presume to come more among men; i'le hazard My life vpon it, that a boy of twelue Should scourge him hither like a parish top, And make him dance before you.

Brun.

Slaue thou liest, Thou dar'st aswell speake treason in the hearing Of those that haue the power to punish it. As the least fillable of this before him, But 'tis thy hate to me.

Martell.

Nay, pray you Madam, I haue no eares too heare you, though a footo To let you vnderstand what he is.

Brun.

Villaine.

Theod.

You are to violent.

Enter Protaldye.

The worst that can come Is blanketting; for beating, and such vertues I haue bene long acquainted with.

Mart.

Oh strange!

Bawdb.

Behold the man yon talke of.

Brun.

Giue me leaue, Or free thy selfe (thinke in what place you are) From the foule imputation that is layd Vpon thy valour (be bold, i'le protect you) Or heere I vow (deny it or forsweare it) These honors which thou wearest vnworthily, Which be but impudent enough and keepe them, Shall be torne from thee with thy eyes.

Prot.

I haue it, My valour! is there any here beneath, The stile of king, dares question it?

Thier.

This is rare.

Prot.

Which of my actions, which haue still bene noble, Has tendred me suspected?

Thierry.

Nay Martell, You must not fall off.

Mart.

Oh Sir, feare it not, Do you know this sword?

Prot.

Yes.

Mart.

Pray you on what termes Did you part with it:

Prota.

Part with if say you?

Mart.

So.

Thier.

Nay study not an answere, confesse freely.

Prota.

Oh I remember't now, at the flags falls, As we to day were hunting, a poore fellow, And now I view you better, I may say Much of your pitch: this silly wretch spoke of, With his petition falling at my feete, (Which much against my will he kisde,) desirde. That as a speciall meanes for his preferment, I would vouchsafe to let him vse my sword, To cut off the stags head.

Brun.

Will you heare that?

Bawdb.

This lie beares a similitude of truele,

Prota.

I euer courteous, (a great weakenes in me) Granted his humble suite.

Mart.

Oh impudence!

Thier.

This change is excellent.

Mart.

A word with you, Denie it not, I was that man disguisde, You know my temper, and as you respect A dayly cudgelling for one whole yeare, Without a second pulling by the eares, Or tweakes by the nose, or the most pretious balme You vsde of patience, patience do you marke me, Confesse before these kings with what base feare Thou didst deliuer it.

Prot.

Oh! I shall burst, And if I haue not instant liberty To teare this fellow limbe by limbe, the wrong Will breake my hart, although Herculean, And somewhat bigger; there's my gage, pray you here Let me redeme my credit.

Thierry.

Ha, ha, forbeare.

Mart.

Pray you let me take it vp, and if I do not Against all ods of armor and of weapons, With this make him confesse it on his knees, Cut off my hcad.

Prot.

No, that is my office.

Bawdb.

Fie, you take the hangmans place.

Ordilla.

Nay good my Lord Let me attone this difference, do not suffer Our bridall night to be the Centaures feast, You are a Knight and bound by oath to grant All iust suits vnto Ladies; for my sake Forget your supposde wrong.

Prot.

Well, let him thanke yon, For your sake he shall liue, perhaps a day, And may be, on submission longer,

Theod.

Nay, Martell, you must bee patient.

Mart.

I am yours, And this slaue shall be once more mine.

Thier.

Sit all; One health, and so to bed, for I too long Deferre my choifest delicates.

Brun.

Which if poyson Haue any power, thou shalt like Tantalus Behold and neuer taste; be carefull.

Lecure.

Feare not.

Brun.

Though it be rare in our sex, yet for once I will begin a health.

Thier.

Let it come freely.

Brun.

Lecure, the cup; heere to the sonne we hope This night shall be an Embrion.

Thier.

You haue namde A blessing that I most desirde, I pledge you, Giue me a larger cup, that is too little Vnto so great a god.

Brun.

Nay, then you wrong me, Follow as I began.

Thiery.

Well as you please.

Brun.

Ist done?

Lecure.

Vnto your wish, I warrant you, For this night I durst trust him with my mother.

Thier.

So, 'tis gone round, lights.

Brun.

Pray you vse my seruice.

Ordella.

'Tis that which I shall euer owe you Madam, And must haue none from you, pray you pardon me.

Thier.

Good rest to all.

Theod.

And to you pleasant labour: Martell your company, Madam good night.

Exeunt all, but Brunhalt, Protal. Lecure, Bawdbers

Brun.

Nay you haue cause to blush, but I will hide it, And what's more I forgiue you; ist not pitty That thou that art the first to enter combat With any woman, and what is more, orecome her, (In which she is best pleasde,) should be so fearefull To meere a man.

Prot.

Why would you haue me lose That blood that is dedicated to your seruice, In any other quarrell?

Brun.

No, reserue it As I will study to preserue thy credit, You sirha; be't your care to finde out one That is poore though valiant, that at any rate Will, to redeeme my seruants reputation, Receaue a publike baffling.

Bawdb.

Would your highnesse Were pleas'd to informe me better of your purpose:

Brun.

Why one Sir, that would thus be boxde, Or kickde; do you apprehend me now?

Bawdb.

I feele you Madam,

The man that shall receiue this from my Lord, Shall haue a thousand crownes.

Prot.

Hee shall.

Bawdb.

besides His day of bastinadoing past ore, He shall not lose your grace, nor your good fauor.

Brun.

That shall make way to it.

Bawdb.

It must be a man Of credit in the Court, that is to be The foyle vnto your valour.

Prot.

True, it should.

Baudb.

And if he haue place there, 'tis not the worse:

Brun.

'Tis much the better.

Bawdb.

If he be a Lord, 'Twill be the greater grace.

Brun.

Thou art in the right.

Bawdb.

Why then behold that valiant man and Lord, That for your sake will take a cudgelling, For be assurde when it is spread abroad That you haue dealt with me, the'ile giue you out For one of the nine Worthies.

Brun.

Our you pandar, Why to beate thee is only exercise For such as do affect it, lose not time In vaine replies, but do it: come my sollace, Let vs to bed, and our desires once quenchde, We'ele there determine of Theodorets death, For he's the engin vsde to ruine vs: Yet one worko more, Lecure, art thou assurde The potion will worke?

Lecure.

My life vpon it.

Brun.

Come my Protaldye, then glut me with Those best delights of man, that are denide To her that does expect them, being a bride.

Act. 3. Scoe 1.

Enter Thierry, and Ordella, as from bed.

Thier.

Sure I haue drunke the blood of Elephants,

The teares of mandrake and the marble dew, Mixt in my draught, haue quencht my natural heate, And left no sparke of fire but in mine eyes, With which I may behold my miseries: Ye wretched flames which play vpon my sight, Turne inward, make me all one peece, though earth; My teares shall ouerwhelme you else too.

Ordella.

What moues my Lord to this strange sadnes? If any late discerned want in me, Giue cause to your repentance, care and duty Shall finde a painefull way to recompence.

Thier.

Are you yet frozen veines, feele you a breath, Whose temperate heate would make the North star reele, Her icie pillers thaw'd, and do you not melt? Draw neerer, yet neerer, That from thy barren kisse thou maist confesse I haue not heate enough to make a blush.

Ordella.

Speake nearer to my vnderstanding, like a husband.

Thier.

How should he speake the language of a husband, Who wants the tongue and organs of his voyce?

Ordella.

It is a phrase will part with the same ease From you with that you now deliuer.

Thier.

Bind not his cares vp with so dull a charme, Who hath no other sence left open; why should thy words Find more restraint then thy free speaking actions, Thy close embraces and thy mid-night sighes, The silent orators to slow desire?

Ordella.

Striue not to win content from ignorance Which must be lost in knowledge: heauen can witnesse My farthest hope of good reacht at your pleasure, Which seeing alone may in your looke be read: Adde not a doubtfull comment to a text That in it selfe's direct and easie.

Thier.

Oh thou hast drunk the iuice of hemlock too, Or did vpbraided nature make this paire To shew she had not quite forgot her first Iustly praisde workmanship, the first chast couple

Before the want of ioy, taught guilty sight A way through shame and sorrow to delight: Say, may we mixe as in their innocence When turtles kist, to confirme happinesse, Not to beget it?

Ordella.

I know no bar.

Thier.

Should I beleeue thee, yet thy pulse beates woman; And sayes the name of wife did promise thee The blest reward of duty to thy mother, Who gaue so often witnes of her ioy, When she did boast thy likenes to her husband.

Ordella.

'Tis true, that to bring forth a second to your selfe, Was only worthy of my Virgin losle; And should I prize you lesse vnpatternde Sir, Then being, exemplified, ist not more honor To be possessor of vnequalde vertue, Then what is paralelde? giue me beleefe, The name of mother knowes no way of good, More then the end in me: who weds for lust Is oft a widdow; when I married you, I lost the name of maid to gaine a title Aboue the wish of change, which that part can Only maintaine, is still the same in man, His vertue and his calme society, Which no gray haires can threaten to dissolue, Nor wrinkles bury.

Thier.

Confine thy selfe to silence, lest thou take That part of reason from me is only left To giue perswasion to me, I am a man: Or say thou hast neuer seene the riuers haste With glad-some speede to meete the amorous sea.

Ordella.

We are but to praise the coolenes of their streames.

Thier.

Nor viewde the kids taught by their lustfull sires, Pursue each other through the wanton lawnes, And likt the sport.

Ordella.

As it made way vnto their enuied rest, With weary knots binding their harmeles eyes.

Thier.

Nor do you know the reason why the doue, One of the paire your hands wont hourely feede, So often clipt and kist her happy mate.

Ordella.

Vnlesse it were to welcome his wisht sight, Whose absence only gaue her mourning voyce.

Thierry.

And you could douelike to a single obiect Bind your loose spirits to one, nay such a one Whom only eyes and eares must flatter good, Your surer sence made vselesse, my selfe, nay As in my all of good already knowne.

Ordella.

Let proofe plead for me, let me be mewde vp Where neuer eye may reach me but your owne; And when I shall repent, but in my lookes, if sigh,

Thier.

Or shed a teare that's warme.

Ordella.

But in your sadnesse.

Thier.

Or when you heare the birds call for their mates, Aske if it be St. Valentine, their coopling day.

Ordella.

If any thing may make a though suspected, Of knowing any happines but you, Diuorse me by the title of most falshood.

Thier.

Oh who would know a wife, that might haue such a friend? Posterity henceforth lose the name of blessing, And leaue the earth inhabited to people heauen.

Enter Theodoret, Brunhalt, Martell, Protaldye.

Mart.

All happines to Thierry, and Ordella.

Thier.

'Tis a desire but borrowde from me, my happines Shall be the period of all good mens wishes, Which friends, nay dying fathers shall be queath, And in my one giue all: is there a duty Belongs to any power of mine, or loue To any vertue I haue right to? here, place it here, Ordellas name shall only beare command, Rule, title, souerainty.

Brun.

What passion swaies my son?

Thier.

O mother, she has doubled euery good The trauaile of your blood made possible To my glad being.

Frot.

He should haue done Little to her, he is so light harted.

Thier.

Brother, friends, if honor vnto shame, If wealth to want in large the present sence, My ioyes are vnbounded, insteed of question Let it be enuy, not bring a present To the high offering of our mirth, banquets, and maskes; Keepe waking our delights, mocking nights malice, Whose darke brow would fright pleasure from vs, Our court be but one stage of Reuells, and each eye The sceane where our content moues.

Theod.

There shall want Nothing to expresse our shares in your delight Sir.

Mart.

Till now I n'ere repented the estate Of widdower.

Thier.

Musique, why art thou so slow voycte? it staies thy presence My Ordella, this chamber is a spheare Too narrow for thy al-mouing vertue. Make way, free way I say; Who must alone, her sexes want supply, Had need to haue a roome both large and high.

Mart.

This passion's aboue vtterance.

Theod.

Nay credulity.

Exit all but Thierry. Brunhact.

Brun.

Why son what meane you, are you a man?

Thier.

No mother I am no man, were I a man, How could I be thus happy?

Brun.

How can a wife be author of this ioy then?

Thier.

That being no man, I am married to no woman; The best of men in full ability, Can only hope to satisfie a wife, And for that hope ridiculous, I in my want And such defectiue pouerty, that to her bed From my first cradell brought no strength but thought, Haue met a temperance beyond hers that rockt me, Necessity being her bar; where this Is so much sencelesse of my depriu'd fire, She knowes it not a losse by her desire.

Brun.

It is beyond my admiration.

Thier.

Beyond your sexes faith, The vnripe virgins of our age to hear't Will dreame themselues to women, and conuert The example to a miracle.

Brun.

Alas 'tis your defect moues my amazement, But what ill can be separate from ambition? Cruell Theodoret.

Thierry.

What of my brother?

Brun.

That to his name your barrennesse adds rule; Who louing the effect, would not be strange In fauoring the cause; looke on the profit, And gaine will quickly point the mischiefe out.

Thier.

The name of father to what I possesse Is shame and care.

Brun.

Were we begot to single happinesse I grant you; but from such a wise, such virtue To get an heire, what Hermit would not find Deseruing argument to breake his vow Euen in his age of chastity?

Thier.

You teach a deafe man language.

Brun.

The cause found out, the malady may cease, Haue you heard of one Forts?

Thierry.

A learnde Astronomer, great Magician, Who liues hard-by retirde.

Brun.

Repaire to him, with the iust houre and place Of your natiuity; fooles are amaz'd at fate, Griefes but concealde are neuer desperate.

Thier.

You haue timely wakende me, nor shall I sleepe Without the satisfaction of his art.

Exit Thierry.

Enter Lecure.

Brun.

Wisedome prepares you to't, Lecure, met happily.

Lecure.

The ground answeres your purpose, the conueiance Being secure and easie, falling iust Behind the state set for Theodoret.

Brun.

'Tis well, your trust inuites you to a second charge, You know Lefortes cell.

Lecure.

Who constellated your faire birth.

Brun.

Enough, I see thou knowst him, where's Bawdber?

Lecure.

I left him carefull of the proiect cast, To raise Protaldies credit.

Brun.

A sore that must be plasterde, in whose wound Others shall find their graues, thinke themselues sound, Your care, and quickest apprehension.

Exeunt.

Enter Bawdber, and a seruant.

Bawdb.

This man of war will aduance.

Lecure.

His houres vpon the stroake.

Bawdb.

Wind him backe as you fauor my eares, I loue no noyse in my head, my braines haue hitherto Bin imployde in silent businesses.

Enter Deuitry.

Lecure.

The gentleman is within your reach Sir.

Exit.

Bawdb.

Giue ground whilst I drill my wits to the encounter, Deuitry. I take it.

Deuitry.

All that's left of him.

Bawdb.

Is there another parcell of you, if it be at pawne I will gladly redeeme it to make you wholy mine.

Vitry.

You seeke too hard a penywoth.

Bawdh.

You to ill to keepe such distance, your parts haue bin long knowne To me, howsoeuer you please to forget acquaintance.

Vitry.

I must confesse I haue bin subiect to lewd company.

Bawdb.

Thankes for your good remembrance, You haue bin a souldier Deuitry, and borne armes.

Vitry.

A couple of vnprofitable ones, that haue only seru'd to get me a stomacke to my dinner.

Bawdb.

Much good may it do you Sir.

Vitry.

You should haue heard me say I had din'd first, I haue built on an vnwholesome ground, rais'd vp a house before I knew a Tenant, matcht to meete wearines, fought to find want and hunger.

Bawdb.

It is time you put vp your sword, and run a way for meate sir, nay if I had not withdrawne ere now, I might haue kept the; fast with you: but since the way to thriue is neuer late, what is the neerest course to profit thinke you?

Vitry.

It may be your worship will say bawdry.

Bawdb.

True sence, bawdry.

Vitry.

Why is their fiue kinds of em, I neuer knew but one.

Bawdb.

Ile shew you a new way of prostitution, fall backe, further yet, further, there is fifty crownes, do but as much to Protaldye the Queenes fauoret, they are doubled.

Vitry.

But thus much.

Bawdb.

Giue him but an affront as he comes to the presence, and in his drawing make way like a true bawde to his valour, the son's thy owne; if you take a scratch in the arme or so, euery drop of blood weighes downe a ducket.

Vitry.

After that rate, I and my friends would begger the kingdome. Sir you haue made me blush to see my want, whose cure is such a cheape and easie purchase, this is male bawdery belike.

Enter Protaldy, a Lady, and Reuellers.

Bawdb.

See, you shall not belong earning your wages, your worke's before your eyes.

Vitry.

Leaue it to my handling, ile fall vpon't instantly:

Bawdb.

What opinion will the managing of this affaire Bring to my wisedome? my inuention tickles With apprehension on't:

Pro.

These are the ioyes of marriage Lady, Whose sights are able to dissolue virginity. Speake freely, do you not enuy the brides felicity?

Lady.

How should I, being partner of't?

Protal.

What you enioy is but the banquets view, The taste stands from your pallat; if he impart By day so much of his content, thinke what night gaue?

Vitry.

Will you haue a rellish of wit Lady?

Bawdb.

This is the man.

Lady.

If it be not deare Sir.

Vitry.

If you affect cheapenes, how can you prize this sullied ware so much? mine is fresh, my owne, not retailde.

Prot.

You are sawcy sirra.

Vitry.

The fitter to be in the dish with such dry stockfish as you Are, how strike?

Bawdb.

Remember the condition as you looke for payment.

Vitry.

That boxe was left out of the bargaine.

Prot.

Helpe, helpe, helpe.

Bawdb.

Plague of the scruiners running hand, What a blow is this to my reputation?

Enter Thierry, Theodoret, Brunhalt, Ordella, Memberge, Martell.

Thier.

What villaine dares this outrage?

Deuitry.

Heere mee Sir, this creature hir'de mee with fifty crownes in hand, to let Protaldye haue the better of mee at single rapier on a made quarrell; he mistaking the weapon, layes mee ouer the chops with his clubfist, for which I was bold to teach him the art of memory.

Omnes.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Theod.

Your Generall, mother, will display himselfe Spight of our peace I see.

Thier.

Forbeare these ciuill iarres, fie Protaldye, So open in your proiects, auoyde our presence sirra.

Deui.

Willingly, if you haue any more wages to earne, You see I can take paines.

Theod.

There's somewhat for thy labor, more then was promis'd, ha, ha, ha:

Bawdb.

Where could I wish my selfe now? in the Ile of dogs, So I might scape scratching, for I see by her cats eyes I shall be claw'd fearefully.

Thier.

Weele heare no more on't, musique drowne al sadnes; soft Command the Reuellers in, at what a rate I do purchase musique My mothers absence, to giue my spleene full liberty.

Brun.

Speake not a thoughrs delay, it names thy ruine.

Prot.

I had thought my life had borne more valew with you.

Brun.

Thy losse carries mine with't, let that secure thee, The vault is ready, and the dore conuyes too't, Falls iust behind his chaire, the blow once giuen, Thou art vnseene.

Prot.

I cannot feele more then I feare, ime sure. withdrawes:

Brun.

Be gone, and let them laugh their owne destruction.

Thier.

You will adde vnto her rage.

Theod.

Foote I shall burst vnlesse I vent my selfe, ha, ha, ha.

Brun.

Me Sir, you neuer could Haue found a time to inuite more willingnesse, In my dispose to pleasure.

Memb.

Would you would please to make some other choice

Reuel.

'Tis a disgrace would dwell vpon me Lady. Should you refuse.

Memb.

Your reason conquers; my grandmothers lookes Haue turn'd all ayre to earth in me, they sit Vpon my heart like night charmes, black and heauy. The Dance.

Thier.

You are too much libertine.

Theod.

The fortune of the foole petswades my laughter More then his cowardice; was euer ratte Tane by the taile thus? ha, ha, ha.

Thier.

Forbeare I say.

Prot.

No eie lookes this way, I will wink and Strike, Behind the state stabe Theodoret. Lest I betray my selfe.

Theod.

Ha, did you not see one neere me?

Thier.

How neere you, why do you looke so pale brother? Treason, treason.

Memb.

Oh my presage! Father.

Ordella.

Brother.

Mart.

Prince, noble Prince.

Thier.

Make the gates sure, search into euery angle And corner of the court; oh my shame! mother, Your son is slaine, Theodoret, noble Theodoret, Here in my armes, too weake a sanctuary 'Gainst treachery and murther, say is the traytor taken.

1 Guard.

No man has past the chamber on my life Sir.

Thier.

Set present fire vnto the place, that all vnseene May perish in this mischiefe who moues slow to't, Shall adde vnto the flame.

Brun.

What meane you? giue me your priuate hearing.

Thierry.

Perswasion is a partner in the crime, I will renounce my claime vnto a mother, If you make offer on't.

Brun.

Ere a torch can take flame, I will produce The author of the fact.

Thier.

Withdraw but for your ilghts.

Exeunt

Memb.

Oh my too true suspition? Martell, Memberge.

Thier.

Speake, where's the engin to this horrid act?

Brun.

Here, you do behold her, vpon whom make good Your causles rage; the deed was done by my incitement, Not yet repented.

Thier.

Whither did nature start, when you conceiude A birth so vnlike woman? say, what part Did not consent to make a son of him, Reseru'd it selfe within you to his ruine.

Brun.

Ha, ha, a son of mine! do not disseuer Thy fathers dust, shaking his quiet vrne, To which thy breath would send so soule an issue, My son, thy brother?

Thier.

Was not Theodoret my brother, or is thy tongue Confederate with thy hart, to speake and do Only things monstrous?

Brun.

Heare me, and thou shalt make thine owne beleefe, Thy still with sorrow mentionde, father liude Three carefull yeares in hope of wished heires, When I conceiude, being from his iealious feare Enioynde to quiet home, one fatall day: Transported with my pleasure to the chase, I forc't command, and in pursuite of game Fell from my horse, lost both my child and hopes. Despaire which only in his loue saw life Worthy of being, from a gardners armes Snatcht this vn'ucky brat, and call'd it mine, When the next yeare repaide my losse with thee: But in thy wrongs preseru'd my misery, Which that I might diminish though not end, My sighes and wet eyes, from thy fathers will, Bequeathe this largest part of his dominions Of France vnto thee, and only left Austracia vnto that changeling, whose life affoords Too much of ill 'gainst me to proue my words And call him stranger.

Thier.

Come, do not weepe, I must, nay, do beleeue you, And in my fathers satisfaction count it

Merit, not wrong, or losse:

Brun.

You do but flatter, there's anger yet flames In your eyes.

Thier.

See, I will quench it, and confesse that you Haue suffer'd double trauaile for me.

Brun.

You will not fire the house then?

Thier.

Rather reward the author, who gaue cause Of knowing such a secret, my oath and duty Shall be assurance on't.

Brun.

Protaldye, rise good faithfull seruant, heauen knowes How hardly he was drawne to this attempt.

Enter Protaldye.

Thier.

Protaldye? he had a gardners fate i'le sweare Fell by thy hand, Sir, we do owe vnto you for this seruice.

Brun.

Why lookest thou so deiected?

Enter Martell.

Pro:

I want a little shift Lady, nothing else.

Mart.

The fires are ready, please it your grace withdraw, Whilst we performe your pleasure.

Thier.

Reserue them for the body; since he had the fate To liue and die a Prince, he shall not lose The title in his funerall.

Exit

Mart.

His fate to liue a Prince, Thou old impiety, made vp by lust and mischiefe,

Exeunt with the body of Theod.

Take vp the body.

Enter Lecure, and a seruant.

Lecure.

Doest thinke Lefortes sure enough?

Serua.

As bonds can make him, I haue turn'd his eyes to the east; and left him gaping after the morning starre, his head is a meere Astrolobe, his eyes stand for the poles, the gag in his mouth being the coachman, his fiue teeth haue the neerest re∣semblance to Charles Waine.

Lecure.

Thou hast cast a figure which shall raise thee, direct my haire a little; and in my likenes to him reade a fortune suiting thy largest hopes.

Serua.

You are so far 'Boue likenesse you are the same, If you loue mirth, perswade him from himselfe,

'Tis but an Astronomer out of the way, And lying will beare the better place for't.

Lecure.

I haue profitabler vse in hand, hast to the Queene, And tell her how you left me chang'd.

Exit seruant.

Who would not serue this vertuous actiue Queene? She that loues mischiefe 'boue the man that does it, And him aboue her pleasure, yet knowes no heauen else:

Enter Thierry.

Thier.

How well this loanes suits the art I seeke, Discoueting secret and succeeding fate, Knowledge that puts all lower happines on, With a remisse and carelesse hand, Faire peace vnto your meditations father.

Lecure.

The same to you, you bring Sir.

Thier.

Drawne by your much fam'd skill, I come to know Whether the man who owes this character, Shall ere haue issue.

Lecure.

A resolution falling with most ease Of any doubt you could haue named, he is a Prince Whose fortune you enquire.

Thier.

He is nobly borne.

Lecure.

He had a dukedome lately falne vnto him By one call'd brother, who has left a daughter.

Thier.

The question is ofheires, not lands.

Lecure.

Heires, yes he shall haue heires.

Thier.

Begotten of his body, why look'st thou pale? Thou canst not suffer in his want.

Lecure.

Nor thou, I neither can nor will Giue farther knowledge to thee.

Thier.

Thou must, I am the man my selfe, Thy soueraigne, who must owe vnto thy wisedome In the concealing of my barren shame.

Lecure.

Your grace doth wrong your stars; if this be yours, You may haue children.

Thier.

Speake it againe.

Lecure.

You may haue fruitefull issue.

Thier.

By whom? when? how?

Lecure.

It was the fatall meanes first strooke my bloud With the cold hand of wonder, when I read it, Printed vpon your birth.

Thier.

Can there be any way vnsmooth, has end So faire and good?

Lecure.

We that behold the sad aspects of heauen, Leading sence blinded, men feele griese enough To know, though not to speake their miseries.

Thier.

Sorrow must lose a name, where mine finds life, If not in thee, at least ease paine with speede, Which must know no cure else.

Lecure.

Then thus, The first of femalls which your eye shall meete Before the sun next rise, comming from out The Temple of Diana, being slaine, you liue Father of many sonnes.

Thier.

Callst thou this sadnes, can I beget a son Deseruing lesse then to gine recompence Vnto so poore a losse? what eare thou art, Rest peaceable blest creature, borne to be Mother of Princes, whose graue shall be more fruitefull Then others marriage bends: me thinkes his art Should giue her forme and happy figure to me, I long to see my happines; he is gone, As I remember he named my brothers daughter, Were it my mother, 't were a gainfull death Could giue Ordellas virtue liuing breath.

Exeunt.

Act. 4. Scoe. 1.

Enter Thierry, and Martell.

Mart.

Your grace is early stirring.

Thier.

How can he sleepe, Whose happinesse is lay'd vp in an houre. Hee knowes comes stealing toward him, o Martell!

I'st possible the longing bride, whose wishes Outrunnes her feares, can on that day she is married Consume in slumbers, or his armes rust in ease, That heares the charge, and sees the honor'd purchase Ready to gild his valor? Mine is more A power aboue these passions; this day France, France that in want of issue withers with vs; And like an aged riuer runnes his head Into forgotten wayes, againe I ransome, And his faire course turne right: this day, Thierry, The son of France, whose manly powers like prisoners Haue bin tyed vp, and fetter'd, by one death Giue life to thousand ages; this day beauty The enuy of the world, pleasure the glory, Content aboue the world, desire beyoud it Are made mine owne and vsefull.

Mart.

Happy woman That dies to do these things.

Thier.

But ten times happier That liues to do the greater; o Martell, The gods haue hard me now, and those that scorn'd me Mothers of many children, and biest fathers That see their issues like the stars vnnumber'd, Their comfort more then them, shall in my prayses Now teach their infants songs; and tell their ages From such a son of mine, or such a queene, That chast Ordella brings me blessed marriage, The chaine that linkes two holy loues together, And in thee marriage, more then blest Ordella, That comes so ne're the sacrament it selfe, The Preists doubt whether purer.

Mart.

Sir, year'lost.

Thierry.

I prithee let me be so,

Mart.

The day weares; And those that haue bin offering earely prayers, Are now retiring homeward.

Thier.

Stand and marke then,

Mart.

Is it the first must suffer.

Thier.

The first woman.

Mart.

What hand shall do it Sir?

Thier.

This hand Martell, For who lesse dare presume to giue the gods An incense of this offering?

Mart.

Would I were she, For such a way to die, and such a blessing Can neuer crowne my parting.

Enter 2 men passing ouer:

Thierry.

What are those?

Mart.

Men, men Sir, men.

Thier.

The plagues of men light on vm, They crosse my hopes like hares, who's that?

Enter a Priest:

Mart.

a Priest Sir.

Thierry.

Would he were gelt:

Mart.

May not these rascalls serue Sir, Well hang'd and quarter'd?

Thierry.

No.

Mart.

Here comes a woman:

Enter Ordella, vail'd.

Thier.

Stand and behold her then.

Mart.

I thinke a faire one.

Thier.

Moue not whilst I prepare her: may her peace Like his whose innocence the gods are pleas'd with, And offering at their altars, giues his soule Far purer then those fires; pull heauen vpon her, You holy powers, no humane spot dwell in her, No loue of any thing but you and goodnes, Tie her to earth, feare be a stranger to her, And all weake bloods affections, but thy hope Let her bequeath to women: heare me heauen, Giue her a spirrit masculine, and noble, Fit for your selfes to aske, and mee to offer. O let her meete my blow, doate on her death; And as a wanton yine bowes to the pruner,

That by his cutting off more may encrease, So let her fall to raise me fruite; haile woman, The happiest, and the best (if thy dull wil Do not abuse thy fortune) France ere found yet.

Ordella.

She is more then dull Sir, lesse and worse then woman, That may inherit such an infinite As you propound, a greatnesse so neare goodnesse; And brings a will to rob her.

Thier.

Tell me this then, Was there ere woman yet, or may be found, That for faire fame, vnspotted memory, For vertues sake, and only for it selfe sake Has, or dare make a story?

Ordella.

Many dead Sir, Liuing I thinke as many:

Thier.

Say, the kingdome May from a womans will receiue a blessing, The king and kingdome, not a priuate safety. A generall blessing Lady.

Ordella.

A generall curse Light on her hart denies it.

Thier.

Full of honor; And such examples as the former ages Were but dim shadowes of, and empty figures:

Ordella.

You strangely stir me Sir, and were my weaknes In any other flesh but modest womans, You should not aske more questions, may I do it?

Thier.

You may, and which is more, you must.

Ordella.

I ioy in't, Aboue a moderate gladnesse, Sir, you promise It shall be honest.

Thier.

As euer time discouer'd.

Ordella.

Let it be what it may then, what it dare, I haue a mind will hazarde'it.

Thier.

But harke yee, What may that woman merit, makes this blessing?

Ordella.

Only her duty Sir.

Thier.

'Tis terrible.

Ordella.

'Tis so much the more noble.

Thier.

'Tis full of fearefull shaddowes.

Ordella.

So is sleepe Sir, Or anything that's meerely ours and mortall, We were begotten gods else; but those feares Feeling but once the fires of nobler thoughts, Fly like the shapes of clouds we forme to nothing.

Thier.

Suppose it death.

Ordella.

I do.

Thier.

And endlesse parting With all we can call ours, with all our sweetenes, With youth, strength, pleasure, people, time, nay reason: For in the silent graue, no conuersation, No ioyfull tread of friends, no voyce of louers, No careful fathers counsell, nothing's hard, Nor nothing is, but all obliuion, Dust, and an endlesse darkenesse; and dare you woman Desire this place?

Ordella.

'Tis of all sleepes the sweetest, Children begin it to vs, strong men seeke it, And kings from heigth of all their painted glories Fall, like spent exhalations, to this center; And those are fooles that feare it, or imagine A few vnhandsome pleasures, or lifes profits Can recompence this place; and mad that staies it, Till age blow out their lights, or rotten humors, Bring vm despers'd to the earth.

Thierry.

Then you can suffer.

Ordella.

As willingly as say it.

Thier.

Martell, a wonder, Here is a woman that dares die, yet tel me, Are you a wife?

Ordella.

I am Sir.

Thierry.

And haue children,--- She sighes, and weepes.

Ordella.

O none Sir.

Thier.

Dare you venter, For a poore barren praise you ne're shall heare, To part with these sweete hopes?

Ordella.

With all but heauen; And yet die ful of children; he that reades me When I am ashes, is my son in wishes, And those chast dames that keepe my memory, Singing my yearely requiems, are my daughters.

Thier.

Then there is nothing wanting but my knowledge; And what I must do Lady.

Ordella.

You are the king Sir, And what you do i'le suffer, and that blessing That you desire the gods showre on the kingdome.

Thier.

Thus much before I strike then, for I must kill you, The gods haue will'd it so; they'r made the blessing Must make France young agen, and me a man, Keepe vp your strength still nobly.

Ordella.

Feare me not.

Thier.

And meete death like a measure:

Ordella.

I am stedfast.

Thier.

Thou shalt be sainted woman, and thy tombe Cut out in Cristall, pure and good as thou art; And on it shall be grauen euery age, Succeeding peeres of France that rise by thy fall, Tell thou liest there like old and fruitefull nature. Darest thou behold thy happinesse?

Ordella.

I Dare Sir.

Thier.

Ha? Pulls off her vaise, lets fall his sword.

Mart.

O Sir, you must not do it.

Thier.

No, I dare not, There is an Angell keepes that paradice, A fiery angell friend; o vertue, vertue, Euer and endlesse vertue.

Ordella.

Strike Sir, strike; And if in my poore death faire France may merit, Giue me a thousand blowes, be killing me A thousand dayes.

Thier.

First let the earth be barren, And man no more remembred; rise Ordella, The nearest to thy maker, and the purest That euer dull flesh shewed vs, ----- o my hart-strings.

Exit.

Mart.

I see you full of wonder, therefore noblest And truest amongst women, I will tell you The end of this strange accident.

Ordella.

Amazement Has so much woue vpon my hart, that truely I feele my selfe vnfit to heare, o Sir, My Lord has slighted me.

Mart.

O no sweete Lady.

Ordella.

Robd me of such a glory by his pitty And most vnprouident respect.

Mart.

Deare Lady, It vvas not meant to you.

Ordella.

Else where the day is, And houres distinguish time, time runnes to ages, And ages end the world, I had bin spoken.

Deui.

I'le tell you what it was, if but your patience Will giue me hearing.

Ordella.

If I haue transgrest, Forgiue me Sir.

Mart.

Your noble Lord was counsell'd, Grieuing the barrennesse betweene you both, And all the kingdome with him, to seeke out A man that knew the secrets of the gods, He went, found such a one, and had this answere, That if he woo'd haue issue, on this morning For this houre was prefixt him, he should kill The first he met being female, from the Temple; And then he should haue children, the mistake Is now to perfect Lady.

Ordella.

Still 'tis I Sir, For may this worke be done by common women, Durst any but my selfe that knew the blessing, And felt the benefit, assume this dying,

In any other, t'ad bin lost, and nothing, A curse, and not a blessing; I was figur'd; And shall a little fondnesse barre my purchase?

Mart.

Where should he then seeke children?

Ordella.

Where they are In wombes ordainde for issues, in those beauties That blesse a marriage bed, and makes it proceede With kisses that conceiue, and fruitefull pleasures; Mine like a graue, buries those loyall hopes, And to a graue it couets.

Mart.

You are too good, Too excellent, too honest; robbe not vs And those that shall hereafter seeke example, Of such inestimable worthies in woman, Your Lord of such obedience, all of honor In coueting a cruelty is not yours, A will short of your wisedome; make not error A tombestone of your vertues, whose faire life Deserues a constellation: your Lord dare not, He cannot, ought not, must not run this hazard, He makes a separation nature shakes at, The gods deny, and euerlasting iustice Shrinkes backe and sheathes her sword at.

Ordella.

All's but talke Sir, I find to what I am reseru'd, and needefull, And though my Lords compassion makes me poore And leaues me in my best vse, yet a strength Aboue mine owne, or his dull fondnesse finds mee, The gods haue giuen it to me. drawes a knife.

Mart.

Selfe destruction, Now all good angells blesse thee, o sweete Lady You are abus'd, this is a way to shame you, And with you al that knowes you, al that loues you, To ruine all you build, would you be famous, Is that your end?

Ordella.

I would be what I should be.

Mart.

Liue, and confirme the gods then, liue and be loaden

With more then oliues beare, or fruitefull Autum; This way you kill your merit, kill your cause, And him you would raise life to; where, or how Got you these bloody thonghts? what diuell durst Looke on that Angell face, and tempt? do you know What'tis to die thus, how you strike the stars, And all good things aboue? do you feele What followes a selfe blood, whither you venter, And to what punishment? excellent Lady, Be not thus cozen'd, do not foole your selfe, The priest was neuer his owne sacrifice, But he that thought his hell here.

Ordella.

I am counsell'd.

Mart.

And I am glad on't, lie I know you dare not.

Ordella.

I neuer haue done yet.

Mart.

Pray take my comsort, Was this a soule to lose? two more such women Would saue their sex; see, she repents and prayes, O heare her, heare her, if there be a faith Able to reach your mercies, she hath sent it.

Ordella.

Now good Martell confirme me.

Mart.

I will Lady, And euery houre aduise you, for I doubt Whether this plot be heauens, or hells; your mother And I will find it, if it be in mankind To search the center of it: in the meane time I'le giue you out for dead, and by your selfe, And shew the instrument, so shall I find A ioy that will betray her.

Ordella.

Do what's finest; And I will follow you.

Mart.

Then euer liue Both able to in grosse all loue, and giue.

Exeunt.

Enter Brunhalt, Protaldye.

Brun.

I am in labour To be deliuerde of that burthenous proiect Thaue so iong gone with; ha? here's the mid-wife,

Or life, or death:

Enter Lecure.

Lecure.

If in the supposition Of her death in whose life you die, you aske me, I thinke you are safe.

Brun.

Is she dead?

Lecure.

I haue vsde All meanes to make her so, I saw him waiting At the Temple doore, and vsde such art within, That only she of all her sexe, was first Giuen vp vnto his fury.

Brun.

Which if loue Or feare made him forbeare to execute The vengeance he determinde, his fond pitty, Shall draw it on himselfe: for were there left Not any man but he to serue my pleasures, Or from me to receiue commands, which are The ioyes for which I loue life; he should be Remoude, and I alone left to be Queene O're any part of goodnesse that's left in me.

Lecure.

If you are so resolude, I haue prouided A meanes to ship him hence: looke vpon this, But touch it sparingly, for this once vsde, Say but to drie a teare, will keepe the eyelidde From closing, vntill death performe that office.

Brun.

Giue't me, I may haue vse of't, and on you I'le make the first experiment: if one sigh Or heauy looke beget the least suspition, Childish compassion can thaw the ice Of your so long congealde and flinty hardnesse. Slight, go on constant, or I shall.

Prot.

Best Lady, We haue no faculties which are not yours.

Lecure.

Nor will be anything without you.

Brun.

Be so, And we will stand or fall together, for Since we haue gone so far, that death must stay

The iourney which we wish should neuer end, And innocent, or guilty we must die, When we do so, let's know the reason why?

Enter Thierry, and Courtiers.

Lecure.

The King.

Thier.

We'le be alone.

Prot:

I would I had A conuoy too, to bring me safe off, For rage although it be allaide with sorrow, Appeares so dreadfull in him, that I shake To looke vpon it.

Brun.

Coward, I will meete it And know from whence t'as b••••t: sonne, kingly Thierry.

Thier.

Is cheating growne so common among men, And thriues so well heere, that the gods endeauour To practice it aboue!

Brun.

Your mother.

Thier.

Ha! or are they only carefull to reuenge, Not to reward? or when for your offences We study satisfaction, must the cure Be worse then the disease?

Brun.

Will you not heare me?

Thier.

To lose th'ability to performe those duties For which I entertainde the name of husband, Askde more then common sorrow; but t'impose For the redresse of that defect, a torture In marking her to death, for whom alone I felt that weaknesse as a want, requires More then the making the head bald? or falling Thus flat vpon the earth, or cursing that way, Or praying this, oh such a sceane of griefe, And so set downe, (the world the stage to act on) May challenge a Tragedian better practisde Then I am to expresse it; for my cause Of passion is so strong, and my performance So weake, that though the part be good, I feare Th'ill acting of it, will defraude it of

The poore reward it may deserue, mens pitty.

Brun.

I haue giuen you way thus long, a King, and what Is more, my sonne, and yet a slaue to that Which only triumphs ouer cowards sorrow For shame looke vp.

Thier.

I'st you, looke downe on me; And if that you are capable to receiue it, Let that returne to you, that haue brought forth One markde out only for it: what are these? Come they vpon your priueledge, to tread on The tombe of my afflictions?

Prot.

No not we Sir.

Thier.

How dare you then omit the ceremony Due to the funerall of all my hopes, Or come vnto the marriage of my sorrowes, But in such colours as may sort with them?

Prota.

Alas, we will weare any thing.

Brun.

This is madnesle, Take but my counsell.

Thier.

Yours? dare you againe Though armde with the authority of a mother, Attempt the danger, that will fall on you If such another sillable awake it? Go, and with yours be safe, I haue such cause Of griefe, nay more, to loue it, that I will not Hane such as these be sharers in it.

Lecure.

Madam.

Prota.

Another time were better.

Brun.

Doe not stir, For I must be resolude and will, be statues.

Enter Martell.

Thier.

I, thou art welcome, and vpon my soule Thou art an honest man; do you see, he has teares To lend to him whom prodigall expence Of sorrow has made banker out of such treasure, Nay thou doest well.

Mart.

I would it might excuse

The ill I bring along.

Thierry.

Thou makest me smile In the height of my calamities, as if There could be the addition of an Atome To the gyant body of my miseries. But try, for I will heare thee; all sit down, 'tis death To any that shall dare to interrupt him Inlooke, gesture, or word.

Mart.

And such attention As is due to the last, and the best story That euer was deliuerde, will become you. The grieude Ordella, (for all other titles But take away from that) hauing from me Prompted by your last parting grone, enquirde What drew it from you, and the cause soone learn'd: For she whom barbarisme could deny nothing, With such preuailing earnestnesse desirde it, 'Twas not in me though it had bin my death, To hide it from her; she I say, in whom All was, that Athens, Rome, or warlike Sparta, Haue registred for good in their best women: But nothing of their ill, knowing herselfe Markde out (I know not by what powre, but sure A cruell one) to die, to giue you children; Hauing first with a setled countenance Look'd vp to heauen, and then vpon her selfe (It being the next best obiect) and then smilde, As if her ioy in death to do you seruice, Would breake forth in despite of the much sorrow She showde she had to leaue you: and then taking Me by the hand, this hand which I must euer Loue better then I haue done, since she touch'd it, Go, sayd she, to my Lord, (and to go to him Is such a happinesse I must not hope for,) And tell him that he too much prizde a trifle Made only worthy in his loue, and her Thankfull acceptance, for her sake to robbe

The Orphan kingdome of such gardians, as Must of necessity descend from him; And therefore in some part of recompence Of his much loue, and to shew to the world That't was not her fault only, but her fate, That did deny to let her be the mother Of such most certaine blessings: yet for proofe, She did not enuy her, that happy her, That is appointed to them, her quicke end Should make way for her; which no sooner spoke, But in a moment this too ready engin Made such a battery in the choicest castle That euer nature made to defend life, That straite it shooke, and sunke.

Thier.

Stay, dares any Presume to shed a teare before me? or Ascribe that worth vnto themselues to merit To do so for her? I haue done, now on.

Mart.

Falne thus, once more she smilde, as if that death For her had studied a new way to seuer The soule and body, without sence of paine; And then tell him quoth she what you haue seenē, And with what willingnesse 'twas done: for which My last request vnto him is, that he Would instantly make choice of one (most happy In being so chosen) to supply my place, By whom if heauen blesse him with a daughter, In my remembrance let it beare my name, Which sayd she dide.

Thier.

I heare this, and yet liue, Hart art thou thunder proofe, will nothing breake thee? She's dead, and what her entertainement may be In th'other world without me is vncertaine, And dare I stay heere vnresolude?

Mart.

Oh Sir!

Brun.

Deare son:

Prota.

Great King.

Thier.

Vnhand me, am I falne So low, that I haue lost the powre to be Disposer of my owne life?

Mart.

Be but pleasde To borrow so much time of sorrow, as To call to mind her last request, for whom (I must confesse a losse beyond expression) You turne your hand vpon your selfe, 'twas hers And dying hers, that you should liue and happy In seeing little models of your selfe, By matching with another, and will you Leaue any thing that she desirde vngranted? And suffer such a life that was layd downe For your sake only to be fruitelesse?

Thier.

Oh thou doest throw charmes vpon me, against which I cannot stop my eares; beare witnesse heauen That not desire of life, nor loue of pleasures Nor any future comforts, but to giue Peace to her blessed spirit in satisfying Her last demand, makes me defer our meeting, Which in my choice, and suddaine choice shall be To all apparant.

Brun.

How? do I remoue one mischiefe To draw vpon my head a greater?

Thier.

Go, thou only good man, to whom for her selfe Goodnesse is deare, and prepare to interre it In her that was; o my hart! my Ordella, A monument worthy to be the casket Of such a iewell.

Mart.

Your command that makes way Vnto my absence is a welcome one, For but your selfe there's nothing here Martell Can take delight to looke on; yet some comfort Goes backe with me, to her, who though she want it, Deserues all blessings.

Exit

Brun.

So soone to forget The losse of such a wife, beleeuē it will

Be censurde in the world.

Thier.

Pray you no more, There is no argument you can vse to crosse it, But does increase in me such a suspition I would not cherish, ---who's that?

Enter Memberge.

Memb.

One, no guarde Can put backe from accesse, whose tongue no threats Nor praiers can silence, a bould suitor and For that which if you are your selfe, a King, You were made so to grant it, Iustice, Iustice.

Thier.

With what assurance dare you hope for that Which is denide to me? or how can I Stand bound to be iust, vnto such as are Beneath me, that find none from those that are Aboue me?

Memb.

Their is iustice, 'twere vnfit That any thing but vengeance should fall on him, That by his giuing way to more then murther, (For my deare fathers death was parricide) Makes it his owne.

Brun.

I charge you heare her not:

Memb.

Hell cannot stoppe iust prayers from entring heauen, I must and will be heard, Sir; but remember That he that by her plot fell, was your brother, And the place where, your pallace, against all Th'inuiolable rites of hospitality, Your word, a kings word, giuen vp for his safety, His innocence, his protection, and the gods Bound to reuenge the impious breach of such So great and sacred bonds; and can you wonder, (That in not punishing such a horrid murther, You did it) that heauens fauour is gone from you? Which neuer will returne vntill his bloud Be washde away in hers.

Brun.

Drag hence the wretch.

Thier.

Forbeare: with what variety

Of torments do I meete? oh thou hast opende A booke in which writ downe in bloudy letters, My conscience finds that I am worthy of More then I vndergo, but i'le begin For my Ordellas sake, and for thine owne, To make lesse heauens great anger: thou hast lost A father, I to thee am so; the hope Of a good husband, in mee haue one; nor Be fearefull I am still no man, already That weakenesse is gone from me,

Brun.

That it might Haue euer growne insepurably vpon thee, aside What will you do? is such a thing as this Worthy the lou'd Ordellas place, the daughter Of a poore gardiner?

Memb.

Your sonne,

Thier.

The powre To take away that lownesse is in me.

Brun.

Stay yet, for rather then that thou shalt adde Incest vnto thy other sins, I will With hazard of my owne life vtter all. Theodoret was thy brother.

Thier.

You denide it Vpon your oth, nor will I now beleeue you, Your Protean turnings cannot change my purpose.

Memb.

And for me, be assurde the meanes to be Reuenge on thee vile hag, admitts no thought, But what tends to it.

Brun.

Is it come to that? Then haue at the last refuge; art thou growne Insensible in ill, that thou goest on Without the least compunction? there, take that To witnesse that thou hadst a mother, which Foresaw thy cause of griefe, and sad repentance, That so soone after blest Ordellas death Without a teare thou canst embrace another, Forgetfull man.

Thier.

Mine eyes when she is namde Cannot forget their tribute, and your g•••••••• Is not vnuseful now.

Lecure.

He's past all cure, that only touch is death.

Thier.

This night i'le keepe it, Tomorrow I will send it you, and full of my affliction.

Brun.

Is the poyson mortall?

Exit Thierry.

Lecure.

Aboue the helpe of phisicke.

Brun.

To my wish. Now for our owne security, you Prosaldye Shall this night post towards Austrachia, With letters to Theodorets bastard sonne, In which we will make knowne what for his rising We haue done to Thierry: no deniall, Nor no excuse in such acts must be thought of, Which all dislike, and all againe commend, When they are brought vnto a happy end.

Exeunt.

Act. 5. Scoe. 1.

Enter Deuitry, and 4 souldiers.

Deuitry.

No war, no mony, no master; banisht the Court, not trusted in the citty, whipt out of the country, in what a triangle runnes our misery: let me heare which of you has the best voice to beg in, for other hopes or fortunes I see you haue not; bee not nice, nature prouided you with tones for the purpose, the peoples charity was your heritage, and I would see which of you de∣serues his birth-right.

Omnes.

We vnderstand you not Captaine.

Deuit.

You see this cardicue, the last and the only quintessence of 50 crownes, distill'd in the lembicke of your gardage, of which happy piece thou shalt be treasorer: now hee that can sonest per∣swade him to part with't, enioyes it, possesses it, and with it, mee and my future countenance.

1.

If they want art to perswade it, ile keepe it my selfe.

Deuit.

So you be not a partiall iudge in your owne cause, you shall. Omnes. A marth:

2.

I'le begin to you, braue Sir; bee proud to make him happy by your liberality, whose tongue vouchsafes now to petition was neuer heard before lesse then to command: I am a souldier by profession, a gentleman by birth, and an officer by place, whose pouerty blushes to be the cause that so high a vertue should des∣send to the pitty of your charity.

1.

In any case keepe your high stile, it is not charity to shame any man, much lesse a vertue of your eminence, wherefore pre∣serue your worth, and i'le preserue my mony.

3.

You perswade, you are shallow, giue way to merit, ah by the bread of good man, thou hast a bonny countenance and a blith, promising mickle good to a sicker wombe, that has trod a long and a soare ground to meete with friends that wil owe much to thy reuerence, when they shall heare a thy tourtesie to their wandring countriman.

1.

You that will vse your friends so hardly to bring them in debt Sir, will deserue worse of a strainger, wherefore pead one, pead on I say.

4.

It is the welch must doo't I see, comrade man of vrship, St. Tauy bee her patron, the gods of the mountaines keepe her cow and her cupboord, may shee neuer want the greene of the leeke, nor the fat of the onion, if she part with her bounties to him that is a great deale away from her cozines, and has too big suites in law to recouer her heritage.

1.

Pardon me Sir, I will haue nothing to do with your suites, it comes within the statute of maintenance: home to your coznes and sowe garlicke and hempeseede, the one will stop your hun∣ger, the other end your suites, gammawash comrade, gammawash.

4.

Foote he'le hoord all for himselfe.

Vitry.

Yes, let him; now comes my turne. i'le see if hee can an∣swere me: saue you Sir, they say you haue that I want, mony.

1.

And that you are like to want, for ought I perceaue yet.

Vitry.

Stand, deliuer.

1.

Foote what meane you you will not robbe the Excheckor?

Vitry.

Do you prate?

1.

Hold, hold, here captaine.

2.

Why I could haue done this before you.

3.

And I.

4.

And I.

Vitry.

You haue done this, braue man be proud to make him happy, by the bread of god man thou hast a bony countenance, comrade man of vrship, St. Tauy be her patron, out vpon you, you vncurried colts, walking cans that haue no soules in you, but a little rosin, to keepe yonr ribs sweete, and hold in liquor.

Omnes.

Why, what would you haue vs to do Captaine?

Deuitry.

Beg, beg, and keepe Constables waking, weare out stockes and whipcord, mander for butter milke, die of the ian∣dize, yet haue the cure about you, lice, large lice, begot of your owne dust, and the heate of the bricke-kills; may you statue, and feare of the gallowes which is a gentle consumption too't, only preferre it; or may you fall vpon your feare, and bee hanged for selling those purses to keepe you from famine whose monies my valour empties, and bee cast without other euidence; here is my fort, my castle of defence, who comes by shall pay me tolle, the first purse is your mittimus slaues.

2.

The purse, foote we'le share in the mony Captaine, if any come within a furlong of our fingers.

4.

Did you doubt but wee could steale as well as your selfe, did not I speake welch?

3.

We are theeues from our cradells, and will die so.

Vitry.

Then you will not beg againe.

Omnes.

Yes, as you did, stand, and deliuer.

2.

Harke, here comes handsell, 'tis a trade quickly set vp, and as soone cast downe.

Deuitry.

Haue goodnesse in your minds varlets, and too't like men; he that has more mony then we, cannot be our friend, and I hope there is no law for spoyling the enemy.

3.

You need not instruct vs farther, your example pleads e∣nough.

Deuitry.

Disperse your selues, and as their company is, fall on.

2.

Come, there are a band of em, i'le charge single.

Exit souldiers.

Enter Protaldye.

Prot.

'Tis wonderfull darke, I haue lost my man, and dare not call for him, lest I should haue more followers then I would pay wages too; what throws am I in, in this trauaile? these bee hono∣rable aduentures; had I that honest blood in my vcines againe

Queene, that your feates and these frights haue draind from me, honor should pull hard ere it drew mee into these brakes.

Deuitry.

Who goes there?

Pre.

Hey ho, here's a pang of preferment.

Deui.

Hart, who goes there?

Prot.

He that has no hart to your acquaintance, what shall I do with my iewells, and my letter, my cod-peece, that's to loose, good, my boots, who ist that spoke to me, here's a friend?

Deuit.

We shal find that presently, stand, as you loue safety stand.

Prot.

That vnlucky word of standing, has brought mee to all this, hold or I shall neuer stand you.

Deuitry.

I should know that voice, deliuer.

Enter souldiers.

Prot.

All that I haue is at your seruice gentlemen, and much good may it do you.

Deuitry.

Zones downe with him, do you prate?

Prot.

Keepe your first word as you are gentlemen, and let me stand, alas what do you meane?

2.

To tie you to vs Sir, bind you in the knot of friendship.

Prot.

Alas Sir, all the physicke in Europe cannot bind me.

Deuit.

You shold haue iewels about you, stones, precious stones.

1.

Captaine away, there's company within hearing, if you stay longer we are surpris'd.

Deuitry.

Let the diuell come, i'le pillage this frigot a little better yet.

2.

Foote we are lost, they are vpon vs.

Deuitry.

Ha, vpon vs, make the least noyse, 'tis thy parting gaspe.

3.

Which way shall she make Sir?

Deuitry.

Euery man his owne; do you heare, only bind mee be∣fore you go, and when the companie's past, make to this place a∣gaine, this karuell should haue better lading in him, you are slow, why do you not tie harder?

1.

You are sure enough I warrant you Sir.

Deuitry.

Darknesse befriend you, away.

Exit souldiers.

Prot.

What Tyrants haue I met with, they leaue mee alone in the darke; yet would not haue me cry. I shall grow wondrous melancholy if I stay long here without company; I was wont to

get a nap with saying my prayers, ile see if they will worke vpon me now; but then if I should talke in my sleepe, and they heare me, they would make a recorder of my windpipe, slit my throate: heauen be prais'd, I heare some noyse, it may bee new purchase, and then I shall haue fellows.

Deuit.

They are gone past hearing, now to taske Deuitry, helpe, helpe, as you are men helpe, some charitable hand, releeue a poore distressed miserable wretch; theeues, wicked theeues haue rob'd me, bound me.

Prot.

Foote would they had gag'd you too, your noyse will betray vs, and fetch em againe.

Deuit.

What blessed tongue spake to mee, where, where are you Sir?

Prot.

A plague of your bawling throate, we are well enough, if you haue the grace to be thankefull for't, do but snore to mee, and 'tis as much as I desire, to passe away time with till morning, then talke as loude as you please Sir, I am bound not to stirre, wherefore lie still and snore I say.

Deuis.

Then you haue met with theeues too I see?

Prota.

And desire to meete with no more of em.

Deuit.

Alas what can we suffer more? they are far enough by this time; haue they not all, all that we haue Sir?

Prot.

No by my saith haue they not Sir, I gaue em one tricke to boote, for their learning, my bootes Sir, my bootes, I haue sau'd my stocke, and my iewells in them, and therefore desire to heare no more of them.

Deuit.

Now blessing on your wit Sir, what a dull slaue was I, dreampt not of your conueiance? helpe to vnbind me Sir, and i'le vndo you, my life for yours no worse theese then my selfe meetes you againe this night.

Prot.

Reach me thy hands.

Deuit.

Here Sir, here, I could beate my braines out, that could not thinke of bootes, bootes Sir, wide top bootes, I shall loue em the better whilst I liue, but are you sure your iewells are here Sir?

Prot.

Sure saist thou? ha, ha, ha.

Deuit.

So ho, illo ho. Within souldiers. Here Captaine, here.

Prot.

Foote what do you meane Sir?

Enter souldiers.

Deuit.

A tricke to boote 〈…〉〈…〉

chase, purchase, the soule of the rocke, diamonds, sparkling dia∣monds.

Prota.

I am betraide, lost, past recouery lost, as you are men.

Deuitry.

Nay Rooke, since you will be prating, we'le share your carion with you, haue you any other conueiance now Sir?

1.

Foote here are letters, epistles, familiar epistles, we'le see what treasure is in them, they are seal'd sure.

Pro.

Gentlemen, as you are gentlemen spare my letters, and take all willingly, all: ile giue you a release, a generall release, and meete you here to morrow with as much more.

Deuit.

Nay, since you haue your trickes, and your conuei∣ances, we will not leaue a wrinckle of you vnsearcht.

Prot.

Harke, there comes company, you will be betraide, as you loue your safeties beate out my braines, I shall betray you else.

Deuitry.

Treason, vnheard of treason, monstrous, monstrous villanies.

Prot.

I confesse my selfe a traytor, shew your selues good sub∣iects, and hang me vp for't.

1.

If it be treason, the discouery will get our pardon Captaine.

Deuitry.

Would we were all lost, hang'd, quarter'd, to saue this one, one innocent prince; Thierry's poyson'd, by his mother poy∣son'd, the Mistris to this stallion, who by that poyson ne're shall sleepe againe.

2.

Foote let vs mince him by piecemeale, tell he eate himselfe vppe.

3.

Let vs dig out his heart with needles, and halfe broile him, like a mussell.

Prot.

Such another and I preuent you, my blood's setled al∣ready.

Deuitry.

Here's that shall remoue it, toade, viper; drag him vnto Martell, vnnaturall parricide, cruell, bloody wo∣man.

Ownes.

On you dogfish, leech, caterpiller.

Deuit.

A longer sight of him will make my rage turne pitty, and with his suddaine end preuent reuenge, and torture, wicked, wic∣ked Brunbalt.

Exit.

Enter Bawdher, and 3 Courtiers.

4.

Not sleepe at all no meanes.

Bawdh.

I will assure you he can sleepe no more Then a hooded hawke, a centinell to him, Or one of the citty Constables are tops.

3,

How came he so?

Bawdh

They are too wise that dare know Somethings amisse, heanen helpe all.

1.

What cures has he? some with glisters.

Bawdh.

Armies of those we call phisitians, Some with lettice caps, some posset drinkes, some pills, Twenty consulting here about a drench, As many here to blood him; Then comes a Don of Spaine, and he prescribes More cooling opium then would kill a turke, Or quench a whore ith dogdayes; after him A wise Italian, and he cries, tie vnto him A woman of fourescore, whose bones are marble, Whose bloud snow water, not so much heate about her As may conceiue a prayer: after him An English Doctor, with a bunch of pot hearbes; And he cries out Endiffe and suckery, With a few mallow rootes and butter milke, And talkes of oyle made of a churchmans charity, Yet still he wakes.

1.

But your good honor Has a prayers in store if all should faile.

Bawdh.

I could haue prayed, and handsomely. But age and an ill memory:

3.

Has spoyl'd your primmer.

Bawdh.

Yet if there be a man of faith i'the Court, And can pray for a pension.

Enter Thierry, on a bed, with Doctors and attendents.

2.

Here's the King Sir, And those that will pray without pay.

Bawdh.

Then pray for me too.

1. Doct.

How does your grace now feele your selfe?

Thier.

What's that?

1. Doct.

Nothing at all Sir, but your fancy:

Thier.

Tell me, Can euer these eyes more shut vp in slumbers, Assure my soule there in 〈…〉〈…〉

And rest for humane labors? do not you And all the world as I do, out stare time, And liue like funerall lampes neuer extinguisht? Is there a graue, and do not flatter me, Nor feare to tell me truth, and in that graue Is there a hope I shall sleepe, can I die, Are not my miseries immortall? o The happinesse of him that drinkes his water After his weary day, and sleepes for euer, Why do you crucifie me thus with faces, And gaping strangely vpon one another, When shall I rest?

2. Doct.

O Sir, be patient.

Thier.

Am I not patient? haue I not endur'd More then a maingy dog among your dosses? Am I not now your patient? yee can make Vnholesome fooles sleepe for a garded foote-cloth; Whores for a hot sin offering; yet I must craue That feede ye, and protect ye, and proclame ye, Because my powre is far aboue your searching, Are my diseases so? can ye cure none But those of equall ignorance, dare ye kill me?

1. Doct.

We do beseech your grace be more reclam'd, This talke doth but distemper you.

Thier.

Well, I will die In spight of all your potlons; one of you sleepe, Lie downe and sleepe here, that I may behold What blessed rest it is my eyes are robde of: See, he can sleepe, sleepe any where, sleepe now, When he that wakes for him can neuer slumber, I'st not a dainty ease?

2. Doct.

Your grace shall feele it.

Thier.

O neuer I, neuer, the eyes of heauen See but their certaine motions, and then sleepe, The rages of the Ocean haue their slumbers, And quiet siluer calmes; each violence Crownes in his end a peace, but my fixt fires Shall neuer, neuer set, who's that?

Enter Martell, Brunhalt, Denitry, souldiers.

Mart.

No woman, 〈1 line〉〈1 line〉

Ere thou shalt sleepe, doest thou see him?

Brun.

Yes, and curse him, And all that loue him foole, and all liue by him.

Mart.

Why art thou such a monster?

Brun.

Why art thou So tame a knaue to aske me?

Mart.

Hope of hell, By this faire holy light, and all his wrongs Which are aboue thy yeares, almost thy vices, Thou shalt not rest, not feele more what is pitty, Know nothing necessary, meete no society, But what shall curse and crucifie thee, feele in thy selfe Nothing but what thou art, bane, and bad conscience, Till this man rest; but for whose reuerence Because thou art his mother, I would say Whore, this shall be, do ye nod? ile waken ye With my swords point.

Brun.

I wish no more of heauen, Nor hope no more, but a sufficient anger To torture thee.

Mart.

See, she that makes you see Sir, And to your misery still see, your mother, The mother of your woes Sir, of your waking, The mother of your peoples cries, and curses, Your murdering mother, your malicious mother:

Thier.

Phisitians, halfe my state to sleepe an houre now; Is it so mother?

Brun.

Yes it is so sonne; And vvere it yet againe to do, it should be.

Mart.

She nods againe, swing her.

Thier.

But mother, For yet I loue that reuerence, and to death Dare not forget you haue bin so; was this, This endlesse misery, this curelesse malice, This snatching from me all my youth together, All that you made me for, and happy mothers Crownde with eternall time are proud to finish, Done by your will? Brun. It was, and by that will.

Thier.

O mother, do not lose your 〈…〉〈…〉

'Tis all the soule of woman, all the sweetenesse; Forget not I beseech you what are children, Nor how you are gron'd for vm, to what loue They are borne inheritors, with what care kept, And as they rise to ripenesse still remember How they impe our your age; and when time calls you, That as an Autum flower you fall, forget not How round about your hearse they hang like penons.

Brun.

Holy foole, Whose patience to preuent my wrongs has kill'd thee, Preach not to me of punishments, or feares, Or what I ought to be, but what I am, A woman in her liberall will defeated, In all her greatnesse crost, in pleasure blasted, My angers haue bin laught at, my ends slighted, And all those glories that had crownd my fortunes. Suffer'd by blasted vertue to be scatter'd, I am the fruitefull mother of these angers, And what such haue done, reade, and know thy ruine.

Thier.

Heauen forgiue you.

Mart.

She tells you true, for milions of her mischiefes Are now apparent, Protaldye, we haue taken An equall agent with her, to whose care After the damnde defeate on you, she trusted

Enter Messenger.

The bringing in of Leoner the bastard Sonne to your murder'd brother; her phisitian By this time is attacht to that dam'd diuell.

Messen.

'Tis like he will be so, for ere we came, Fearing an equall iustice for his mischiefes, He drench't himselfe.

Brun.

Hee did like one of mine thine.

Thier.

Must I still see these miseries, no night To hide me from their horrors, that Protaldye See iustice fall vpon.

Brun.

Now I could sleepe too.

Enter Ordella.

Mart.

Ile giue you yet more poppy, bring the Lady And heauen in her embraces; giue him quiet Madam, vnuaile your selfe.

Ordella.

I do forgiue you.

And though you sought my blood, yet ile pray for you,

Brun.

Art thou aliue?

Mart.

Now could you sleepe.

Brun.

For euer.

Mart.

Go carry her without winke of sleepe, or quiet, Where her strong knaue Protaldye's broke oth wheele, And let his cries and rores be musicke to her, I meane to waken her.

Thier.

Do her no wrong.

Mart.

Nor right as you loue iustice.

Brun.

I will thinke, And if there be new curses in old nature, I haue a soule dare send vm.

Mart.

Keepe her waking.

Exit Brunhalt.

Thier.

What's that appeares so sweetely? there's that face.

Mart.

Be moderate Lady.

Thier.

That angells face.

Mart.

Go nearer.

Thier.

Martell, I cannot last long, see the soule, I see it perfectly of my Ordella, The heauenly figure of her sweetenes there, Forgiue me gods, it comes, diuinest substance, Kneele, kneele, kneele euery one, Saint of thy sexe, If it be for my cruelty thou comest, Do ye see her hoe?

Mart.

Yes sir, and you shall know her.

Thier.

Downe, downe againe, to be reueng'd for blood, Sweete spirit I am ready, she smiles on me, O blessed signe of peace.

Mart.

Go neerer Lady.

Ordella.

I come to make you happy.

Thierry.

Heare you that sirs? She comes to crowne my soule: away, get sacrifice Whilst I with holy honors.

Mart.

She's aliue Sir.

Thierry.

In euerlasting life I know it, friend, O happy, happy soule.

Ordella.

Alas I liue Sir A mortall woman still.

Thierry.

Can spirits weepe too?

Mart.

She is no spirit Sir, pray kisse her; Lady; Be very gentle to him.

Thier.

Stay, she is warme.

Are you the same Ordella still?

Mart.

The same Sir, Whom heauens and my good angell staid from ruine.

Thier.

Kisse me agen,

Ordel.

The same still, still your seruant.

Thier.

'Tis she, I know her now Martell; sit downe sweete, O blest and happiest woman, a dead slumber Begins to creepe vpon me, o my iewell!

Enter Messenger, and Memberge.

Ordella.

O sleepe my Lord.

Thier.

My ioyes are too much for me.

Messen.

Brunhalt impatient of her constraint to see Protaldie tortur'd, has chokt her selfe.

Mart.

No more, her sinnes go with her.

Thier.

Loue I must die, I faint, close vp my glasses.

1. Doct.

The Queene faints too, and deadly.

Thier.

One dying kisse.

Ordella.

My last Sir, and my dearest, and now Close my eyes too.

Thier.

Thou perfect woman, Martell, the kingdome's yours, take Memberge to you, And keepe my liue aliue; nay weepe not Lady, Take me, I go.

Ordella.

Take me too, farwell honor. dies both.

2. Doct.

They are gone for euer.

Mart.

The peace of happy soules go after vm, Beare vm vnto their last beds, whilst I study A tombe to speake their loues; whilst old Time lasteth, I am your King in sorrowes.

Omnes.

We your subiects.

Mart.

Deuitry, for your seruice he neere vs, Whip out these instruments of this mad mother From Court, and all good people; and because She was borne noble, let that title find her A priuate graue, but neither tonge, nor honor: And now leade on, they that shall read this story, Shall find that vertue liues in good, not glory.

Exeunt Omnes.

FINIS.