Argalus and Parthenia· as it hath been acted at the court before their Maiesties: and at the Private-House in Drury-Lane, by their Maiesties Servants. By Hen. Glapthorne.

Actus 3. Scena 1. (Book 3)

Enter Demagoras and servant.

ARe all our forces muster'd.

Serv.

They are my Lord.

Demag.

Let them be All in a readinesse. I meane this night T'attempt Kalanders Castle: my great soule Is not yet satisfied by my revenge Upon Parthenia's beauty: the contempt (Cast on me by▪ refusall of my match) Cannot be wash'd off, but in streames of bloud.

Serv.

But my Lord, thinke on Kalanders strength.

Demag.

I know my owne. And 'twere a sin 'gainst my undaunted courage To doubt 'tis large 〈…〉〈…〉 has not power To vanquish any enemy. Let hosts, Conjoyne to hosts, affront me; yet this arme Has an innated vertue, that shall force Victory from their multitudes, as due Onely to my deservings. Let the Cap••aines Prepare our forces, while in this grove I meditate

The sweetnesse of my just revenge.

Arga.

Pray Sir to whom belong yo•• forces.

Serv.

To Lord Demagoras, there is the Generall.

Exit Ser∣vant.

Arg.

You'r happily encountred, Doe you know me?

Demag.

Though such things as you are, Fit onely for effeminacie and sport, Doe seldome meet my knowledge, you are, If I mistake not, Argalus; I sent you A glorious present lately, your Parthenia Dress'd in her new robes of beauty, such as might Intice your wanton appetite to love.

Arga.

Villaine, to glory in thy most detested act, Shewes that thy Fiend-like nature has forgot All lawes of noble manhood; but I sinne To interchange a word with such a Monster; Yet before thou dost fall by me, as, if heaven have not Lost all its cure of innocence, thou must doe, I'le force thee heare the blacknesse of thy mischiefes. What devill cloth'd in humane shape, except Thy barbarous selfe, would have atchiev'd the wrack Of so much matchlesse beauty.

Demag.

'Twas too meane, too light a sacrifice for my re∣venge, Had her whole Sex beene there, attired in all The glory of their beauty, and you Sir present, My anger had invaded them, and spight Of your defence converted their choice formes To the same loathsome leprosie.

Arga.

Peace Monster. Each syllable thou utterest does infect The aire with killing pestilence: it was Heavens never-sleeping Justice that directed My erring person hither to revenge Parthenia's murder'd beauty on thy life. Nay stare not on me Sir, were you defenc'd With heaps of men as numerous as your sinnes, This sword should force a passage, and dig out Thy heart from that black cabinet of thy brest,

And cast it a prey to Vultures.

Demag.

You'r very confident Young gallant of your fortune, prithee goe Poore boy and fight a combat in the court With some soft Mistresse, dance, or touch a Lute: Thou art a thing so abject thou'rt not worthy The anger of Demagoras; arme, be gone, Lest I doe frowne thy soule away. My sword Will be an uselesse instrument 'gainst such A childish enemie.

Arga.

Glorious Devill, My furies growne to that unequall height 'Twill not admit more conference; thy crimes Are now ripe for my punishment: though Fiends Guard your black brest, I'le peirce it.

Demag.

So valiant? I shall chastise your fury.

Fight, Demag. falls.

Arg.

Parthenia, Thou art in part reveng'd, and if mine owne Death doe succeed his, I shall goe in peace to my eternity.

Demag.

Sure great Mars Has put on armes against me in this shape, For 'tis impossible mortality could Atchieve Demagoras conquest. Farewell light, 'Tis fit the world should weare eternall night.

Dies.

Arg.

I hate to triumph O're his loath'd carcasse, which should be a prey To Wolves and Harpyes: O Parthenia! Here lies the Fatall Cause of all our mischiefes; And sure no soule will at his death repine: Revenge, when just, 's, not humane, but Divine.

Ent. Serv.

Serv.

Where have you left my Lord?

Arg.

There lies your Lord.

Exit Arg.

Serv.

Dead? Curst Fate, that so much greatnesse Should suffer this great overthrow, and fall From such a height to a sad funerall!

Exit

Amphialus and Philarchus.

Amphi.

'Tis such a cruelty, as no report, Though it discourse of rapes, and timelesse deaths, Has ever equall'd.

Phi.

The successe will speake The wonder more prodigious. The poore Lady (Still lovely in her sorrow) after this sad rape Of her rare beauty, privately stole thence, And with that strictnesse has obscur'd her selfe, That though inquest (though many indeavour'd In her desir'd search) can attain the least Discovery of her present being.

Amph.

How beares Argalus this sad disaster?

Philar.

As a man Whose noble courage, 'bove the crosse of Fate, Seemes patient at his misery.

Amph.

He and I Are both made up of sorrow, our full griefes Might (like two swelling Oceans when they meet In a contracted channell) aptly combat For rough priority. Philoclea My glorious Cousin, will by no intreats, No services, yet be induc'd to love, That I was forc'd, against the naturall zeale I beare the King my Uncle, to transgresse (Such is the power of my fancy) the strictnesse Of my obedience, captivating her By force, to whom by a most free consent My soule before was prisoner.

Phi.

I could wish, noble Amphialus, that your desires Might both atchieve forgivenesse, and successe: I'm none of those strict Statesmen, though I love My King, that hate your vertues for this fact, Because I know the greatnesse of your spirit Attempted it not for inveterate hate,

Or for ambition, but to gaine her love.

Amphi.

Philocleas love, upon whose meanest thought The Art of Memorie's grounded, and inspires Each organ of our meditating sense, With their perfections merit.

Phi.

But my Lord: How brooks the king the bold detention Of his faire daughters? Sure he will invert Some sudden forces on you, and compell Their back-deliverie.

Amp.

He shall first inforce Mortality into nothing. I did send, To avoid effusion of more humane bloud, This faire defiance, that he should elect A Champion daring singly to oppose Me in a combat, and if Fate decreed My fall by him, security for the freedome Of his imprison'd daughters.

Phi.

Did his Grace accept the noble offer?

Amp.

With a freedome Fitting a King, but who the person is That hopes to gaine a Trophee by my death, Fame has not yet divulg'd. This urgent businesse Hinders my visit of my Lord Argalus; Present my true hearts service to him, tell him I Doe inwardly dissolve into a dew Of bleeding passion for his lo••••e, and would To re-invest blest quiet in his heart, Act o're the Scene of dangers I have pass'd Since I knew earliest manhood, so your Lordship Will please to pardon my rude haste, I must, As to my friends, to my owne affaires be just.

Exeunt.

Enter Clitophon, Strephon, Alexis.

Clito.

Perswade me not to this, there is no woman Worthy my love, they are all too falsly common To every Suiter.

Alex.

Why Clitophon say you so, who are blest With her society whom I love best? Yet in her presence I'm forbid to move My suit, nay dare not name the name of love.

Stre.

'Tis your own flat foolery Alexis; you should with garbe and gesture pastorall, with as much scorne as you would o'returne your enemy at football, contemne the force of wo∣man, Why?

Women are shadows, fly away When follow'd, or desir'd to stay; But if you slight them, they will sue, Follow, intreat, nay flie to you: But if stiffe and strong you stand, You may tread them at command. But lie downe, the pretty Elves Will straight fall under you of themselves. Like my Spaniell, beaten, they Will lick your lips, and with you play. This is the reason why They love me so doggedly; You might by my example edifie, And live in peace Alexis.

Alex.

Why Strephon, you usurpe without a cause The priviledge of their love; your carriage drawes Their laughter, not affection; you appeare To them for sport, not for your person deare.

Streph.

Ther's your foolery still, thou hast commerc'd it seemes with none but thine owne sheepe, and art farre sillie•• than they: your woman is the greatest dissembler in the world, and where they toy and jeere, they most affect:

Finally women are slippery, as at their tayles are Eeles, Their mindes as light as are their heeles.

And every one's for what she feeles: And so with my opinion, farewell.

Clito.

Stay honest Strephon, I did late compose verses in hatred of them.

Stre.

They are not prose, pray read them.

Clito.

Who would trust a woman, when They'r the onely curse of men? Syrens sing but to intice, They men to a fools paradise: Hyaena's speak, 'tis to betray To certaine ruine, so doe they: Crocodiles shed teares of slaughter, Women weepe when they meane laughter. Inconstant, cruell, falfe, unkinde, Are attributes that suit their minde.

Stre.

Now, as I am true Arcadian, thou would'st be whipt for this; Cupid shall cite thee into his Court for this by some of his villanous Apparators, where his wide conscienc'd Pro∣ctors, and their Clerks, shall with their pen and inkhornes beat thy braines out: if thou scap'st that, Ladies shall beat thee to death with their Monkies, you jack-a-napes; cham∣bermaids shall worry thee to death with kisses, than which there can be no greater tyranny; then, the very Cooke, and Milkmaids, shall in scolding prose, baste thee into a jelly, or charme thee into May-butter; you shall answer this, I'le peach, I'le play the Informer.

Clito.

I'le not recant it, not deny this truth, Alexis you shall heare it justified.

Exeunt.

Enter Kalander, Argalus, and Philarchus.

Kalan.

Where met you Lord Amphialus?

Phi.

In the grove, 'twixt Mantinea and his Castle, while Our servants led our horses down the hill, We did exchange some accents in discourse. The noble youth, as hopefull of successe In his designe, as brave in his resolve;

But the great rumour'd warfare 'twixt the King And him's converted to a single fight Betwixt Amphialus and what champion The King will venter to ingage in such A cause of weighty consequence.

Kalan.

I'm glad: Arcadia long blest in a happy peace Shall by the letting of so few veines bloud Continue in her quiet; it was fear'd This sad domestick quarrell would have cost More lives than might with justice have beene spar'd; But 'tis not yet divulg'd by fame whose valour Will be imploy'd i'th combat.

Phi.

His knowledge Has not yet attain'd the notice of't: My Lord, He does present his best respects to you, Deplores your sorrows with a brothers griefe, intreats you Have so much mercy on your glorious youth, As not to spend its blooming pride in sighes.

Arg.

My Lord, I thank him, and rejoyce his Fate Has sorted him so honourable a triall Of his undoubted valour: for my griefes, They doe increase on me, like a disease, Spreading through all my faculties, which shakes My soule into an agony of death, And will, I hope, ere long, dissolve this flesh Into forgetfulnesse.

Kalan.

Nay good my Lord, Renounce this passionate temper, wee'l depart Hence to my Castle, expell our cares with feasts, Hunt the wild bore that will with masculine rage Resist the hunters, till he foame to death, View swift hounds running hotly in pursuit Of the chac'd game, and from the neighb'ring hills Force Ecchoes to their shrilnesse.

Arg.

Alas my Lord: The sole conceit of faire Parthenia's losse

Would from a heart of marble force salt teares Cold as the dew the stone distills, invite An unremorsefull Crocodile to shed Drops as sincere as does the timorous Hart When he o'reheares the feath'red arrow sing His funerall Dirge.

Kala.

See Alexis accompanied with a stranger Lady.

Enter Alexis and Parthenia.

Alex.

Sir, this Lady, newly arriv'd from Corinth, has Some businesse she will disclose to none but you.

Exit.

Parth.

My vow's absolv'd.

Arga.

Angels, or if there be a power has charge Of humane frailty, shrowd me with their wings; The sight of this divinity will strike More than my Eyes, my Reason, and inforce me Here to die gazing.

Phi.

Blesse me! 'tis sure Parthenia.

Kala.

My vertuous Neece recover'd.

Arg.

'Tis her face. I have examin'd with industrious eyes Each line, each lovely circle that adornes This best perfect piece of nature and all speakes Parthenia's figure.

Parth.

My honour'd Lords.

Arg.

'Tis her voyce! The same well-sounding musick did inchant With its melodious harmony my heart. Let me adore the miracle.

Parth.

My Lords: Doe not distract with a deceiving joy Your noble soules, I will not seeke to fold Your thoughts in doubtfull errour: you mistake, I'm not Parthenia.

Arg.

What delusion playes with our faculties?

Parth.

My Lord, afford me patient hearing, my discourse Containes much consequence, you never lov'd

Parthenia dearlier than my selfe: we wore The very figure of each others mind, As well as body, and I should transgresse Th'integrity of our inviolate truths; Not to fullfill each scruple of her will With ceremonious duty, she being dead.

Arga.

Oh my just feares!

Phi.

Deare Lady, is she dead?

Par.

Dead, cold in her dark urne, As was her Icy chastity; she did arrive Some few dayes since at Corinth, where resolv'd T'obscure her self to all but mee, kind heaven Pitying her sad disaster, by mild death, Translated her to the immortall blisse Prepar'd for innocent lovers.

Arga.

Sure I am insensible of misery, or my brest Would burst with fulnesse of my griefes; deare Lady Informe me where Parthenia is intomb'd, That like some humble pilgrime, I may visit The holy place with a religious zeale, and bathe Her virgin ashes in my teares, Weepe o're her grave till from my drops arise

Parthenias monument.

Some crystall pyramid to tell the world:

Par.

You interrupt, what my sad heart, as an unwelcome load, Desires to be disburdend of: before Her dying breath, she did injoyne me by All our friendships rites, when I had laid Her corps in earth: straict to repaire (with notice Of her expiring) hither.

Phi.

Deere my Lord, be not so much distemper'd.

Parth.

Tell, quoth she, my noble mother that I dy in peace, Even with D••magoras; commend me to my love, My dearest Argalus; informe him that His very name flies with my soule to heaven, There to remaine for ever; and ingage him T'accept of you as my last guift, you are So like Parthenia that, hee'll love you for

My memory: So with a constant truth To my dead friend I'm come, my Lord, to offer What she bequeath'd, her legacy of my love, To your acceptance.

Arga.

Madam, I must rest For your kind wish your servant; but in me Parthenia only must have room to live, While I have vitall motion. Had she impos'd What charge (but this) soever, I'de endevour It's strict performance: but I am resolv'd As she enjoy'd my first, my latest love Shall on her memory waite till we do meet I'th happy shades together.

Part.

Sure my Lord, This is contempt of my desert, I must not Be thus repuls'd: to satisfie your feares, I am your true Parthenia.

Argalus.

Parthenia.

Part.

Yes, and by the Queen of Corinth cur'd, whose sk•••• and care clens'd my fowle leprosie.

Arga.

Parthenia, 'twas well your wisdom by degrees Diffus'd this comfort; had you showr'd it all at once, T'would like a torrent have o'reborne the banks Of my amaz'd mortality.

Kal.

Come, discourse Your story at your leisure, Argalus Take your Parthenia, treachery nor hate Cannot undo the firme decree of Fate.

Exeunt.

Sapho. Aminta. Strephon. Clitophon.

Strep.

Ile try your impudence, have you the face To deny your libell Clitophon?

Clit.

Good Strephon urge me not, I shall not want Audacity to expresse them to recant. My just opinion were injust, and fit To staine my resolution, and my wit.

Amin.

Clitophon, how dare You arm'd with boldnesse greater than dispaire

Venture abuse to woman, or defile That name with scandall, to whose meanest smile, You have done worship?

Sapho.

Prais'd looks with flat'tring art, Each look, each lineament, as the best part Of Natur's choysest workmanship: but men Are more inconstant than light whirlewinds; trust The sea with feathers, or March winds with dust Rather; and let their words, oaths, teares, vowes passe, As words in water writ, or slipery glasse.

Clit.

This is more jugling. O! with these h'as found A passage through my Eyes, to give a wound To my poore Heart: it is their looks beget This soddaine alteration, which as yet Does but with infant feathers strive to fly To heaven, tels Justice of the ••njury I have done sacred womanhood: thence Thou scrowle detracting spotlesse innocence.

Aminta

deare forgive me, Sapho see How my teares distill.

Stre.

If they were every one as big as a Turnip, it should not serve to feed my anger: well wenches, if you doe pardon him, may your maidenheads be a burden to you, till you bee fore∣score at least, then may you turne Witches, and some Goblin get them; or else perish in your Virginity, and leade Apes in Hell for't: Nay if you do forgive him, I will have you arraing'd of treason against Venus, and Cupid shall be your blind Judge, and condemne you for the fact, to loose your heads; your mai∣denheads I meane, and have a man of fourescore and ten for your Executioner.

Sapho.

Deare Strephon, do not frown, it does disgrace The sallow color of thy wither'd face.

Stre.

You would faine cog your selfe into my favour again; but till you bee converted from this Clitophon, you shall not kisse the worst part about me.

Saph.

O say not so, Thou art more sweet than Yewe or Miscletoe,

Alex.

O Clitophon, Aminta, every voyce Be fill'd with admiration, sing, rejoyce, Till th' earth dance like our young Lambs, till trees Grow active at the musick; all degrees, Of greefe are banish'd: all our flocks shall play For joy Parthenia, O Parthenia?

Clito.

What of Parthenia?

Alex.

Is return'd, her right Beauty new shining like the Queen of night, Appearing fresher after she did shroud: Her gawdy forehead in a pitchy cloud, Loves triumphs in her eyes; auda••ious I, That durst name love, and faire Alexis by: Be dumb for ever.

Sapho.

Stay Alexis, She shall now revoke that loving tyranny, Since our Parthenia's return'd, I'le turne My Elegiack strains away, and burn in high love raptures.

Alex.

She must strait be wed to Lord Argalus. The bridall bed is in preparing.

Sapho.

At a verse of mine, Hymen shall light his Nuptiall flaming pine, I will enchant them to embraces free, With a devoted Epithalamy; Till I sing day from Tothis armes, and fire With ayry raptures the whole morning quire, Till the small birds their Silvan notes display And sing with us, joy to Parthenia.

Dance & Exeunt.

The end of the third Act.