Poems on several occasions written by the Honoura ble Sir Robert Howard.

ACT 5. SCEN. 7.

Enter Princess, Phylanter, Amione, Phylena, and Others.

Prin.

IS this the house, Phylanter?

Phyl.

Yes, Madam.

Prin.

Pray summon it.

Phyl.

'Twill now be yielded, Madam, Far easier than 'twould once. Within there, ho!

Pysander ap∣pears above.

Pys.

How now, what news, O Phylanter? Is your troublesome Worship there again? —how now, the Princesse too?

Prin.

The same, Pysander.

Pys.

Now truly Madam, do I think I had best call Mironault to unriddle this. —The labour's sav'd.

Mironault appears above too.

Prin.

Mironault.

Mir.

Ha.—

Prin.

Do you not know me?

Mir.

Yes, and others too there.

Prin.

This is injustice Mironault, Can you let wonder keep you thus from me?

Mir.

I had forgot, it's true, 'tis Mirramente, And scrupulous thoughts were sins unpardonable,

He de∣scends.

Pys.

If I should stay to consider what this means, I should be the last should know it;

He comes down.

I'le e'ne descend too.

Prin.

Mircnault, —Though these strange objects might deserve a storie,

Enter Mi∣ronault.

'Twould take up time, and I shall think it crueltie To rob thee of one minute's joy, if I can give it.

Miro.

If you can give it? have I thus long Lov'd you, and lov'd you religiously, now to have All my devotion question'd? Can sick men joy in health? or liberty Be pleasing unto captives? In your kindnesse Lies all my health and liberty.

Prin.

Nor will I fear to avow it, dearest Mironault, No thoughts of crossing danger e're shall fright My Love or me.

Miro.

It's true, I am unworthy of you; but so are all,

And he that parts me from you, Must joyn me to a colder Bride.

Phyl.

And more than you, gallant Mironault, Wonder no more, nor think on stories past, But that to come, Phylanter will appear As worthy of your friendship, —As he was once of hate—but stay I had forgot to ask your pardon. Indeed Heer's one may better do it, whose fair opinion

He takes Amione by the hand.

—Will promise for me.—

Miro.

Brave Sir, I hated still your crimes not you, so did she, And if she love your Virtues, pray believe I am her brother too.

Phyl.

Madam, I see

Enter Al∣bertus.

A little honesty will make one impudent That I must now beg pardon for others, That scarsly should have hop't if for my self.

Prin.

Rise my Lord, you need not now Of any doubt your pardon.

Alb.

Excellent Princesse, I shall deserve hereafter What an unjust necessity made me shun to testifie.

Kisseth her hand.

Prin.

Hyppasus and Pysander, I must not now Forget your share in thanks, That did receive your part in danger.

Pys.

Nay your Highnesse cannot be better pleased than we That all the danger's past, to say truth,

Hypasus and I were clearly your Platonicks, And made up the Romance.

The blind La∣dy hearing his voice, calls from under the vault where he put her.

Caec.

Captain.

Prin.

How now, what's that?

Pys.

Why nothing Madam, Onely an honest fellow kill'd in the storm, And now his ghost walks; in his life time He was a talking fellow, Hyppasus you know it.

Hyp.

Hang you, what do I know?

Caec.

Why, Captain, Captain?

Pys.

Plague on you, would you were gagg'd.

Prin.

This is strange!

Pys.

Nay your Highnesse need not be troubled, I'le have a Schollar shall lay it at my own charge.

Hyp.

Well Sir, if you'le be at that cost, I'le be the Scholar, To raise it at my own.

Pys.

Pox on your conjuring fools-head, By this light she rises— Like Ceres with Plenty about her, Lord, how Peter stares!

Hyppasus takes her out of the vau't with corn upon her far∣thingale, Peter following.

Caec.

Captain, Pray, your hand

[She goes on.

Pys.

Here forsooth.

He goes behind the Princesse.

Now have at the Princess, la, ra, ra, ra, Your Highnesse may be pleas'd,

She runs against the Princesse.

To pardon her usuall exercise, She was the best tilter in her time

That ever ran.

Mironault whispers to the Princesse.

Caec.

O Captain, pray your hand,

Pys.

Now have I ague: what tends This whisperig to?

Prin.

Come Pysander, The god of Love himself is blind, She, or her estate (I hear) is very fair.

Pys.

Why, is your Highnesse is earnest? And please you shee's some sourscore, A dog were as good a husband for her To lead her up and down.

Prin.

Madam, Will you consent to have this Gentleman?

Caec.

I have already yielded.

Pys.

And be hang'd 'twas before you were storm'd.

Prin.

Come it shall be a match, shee'l make you her Executor.

Pys.

Well, wee'l all be marri'd then. Hypassus If you please, you shall have Quinever.

Pin.

We are all happy then; we need not fear, Unlesse my Father frown.

Phyl.

We shall unwillingly throw off again Our Loyalty to him, and yet we shall Be very ready to embrace a witnesse, That we dare dye for Mironault.

Mir.

You nobly all oblige me, and I must tell you My dearest Princesse that I cannot fear, Whilst I enjoy your Love, for that has rais'd me Above the power of Fate or danger, Nor have I leisure to think on any thing, But of those joys are falling now upon me,

Which neither time or age can ever lessen; For still your Virtues like Medea's charms Shall bring fresh beauties to my happy arms.

[Exeunt.

Pys.

We Bridegrooms disagree, for every day Will oblige most that adds to your decay.

[Exit with the Blind Lady.

FINIS.