Playes written by the thrice noble, illustrious and excellent princess, the Lady Marchioness of Newcastle.

Scene 14.

Enter the Lady Sanspareile in a bed, as being sick, the bed drawn on the stage, and her Father kneels by the bed-side whilst she speaks as dying.

SAnspareile.

Let spotless Virgins bear me to my grave, and holy An∣thems sing before my Herse, and soft-toucht Instruments to play the while, and keep just time with tears, that trickling fall from the sad eyes of my most sorrowful friends; and one my Coffin spread upon a covering of smooth Sattin, white, to signify here how I lived a Virgin, pure I lived and dy∣ed; and let my works which I have wrought, and spun out of my brain, be given to times Library, to keep alive my name.

And set a Lilly-Garland on my Herse, On every leaf therein, stick on a verse;

And when my Coffin to the grave you bring, Let Poets on my Herse some verses fling. For whilst I liv'd I worship'd Nature great, And Poets are by Nature savoured. I in the Muses Arms desire to Dye, For I was bred up in their Company: And my requesl's to them, when I am dead, I may amongst them be remembered.

But death drawes near, my destiny is come; Father farewell: may time take up my years, which death cuts off, and add them to your life: Peace keep your mind, and Comfort give you rest.

He weeps.

But why do you weep dear Father? my life's not worth your tears; yet Heavens doe weep, and mingle with dull earth their Cristal streams, and earth's refresht thereby; so is not death, for death is ever dry.

Father.

O Child! O Child! my heart will break.

Sanspareile.

Sir, why do you sigh and groan, and grieve, that I must dye? life is perpetual, and death is but a change of shape.

Only I wish that Death may order it so, That from your rootes I may your flower grow. I fear not Death, nor am I loath to dye: Yet I am loath to leave your Company.

But O the Muses stay my dying lips to close. Farewel

Dyes.

Her Father starts up from her Bed-side, and stares about the Bed; and the dead Lady is drawn off the stage.

Father.

What art thou sted? dear Soul wheredost thou goe? stay and I will bear thee Company.

Stares about.

Where art thou Soul? why mak'st thou such great haste? I pray thee stay, and take thy aged Fathers Soul along with thee, left it should wander in the dark and gloomy shades to find thee out. O! O death! quick dispatch, Let me unprisoned be, my body is old, decayed and worn, times ruins shews it. Oh! Oh! let life fall, for pitty pull it down.

[stops a time]

Am I not dead? you cruel powers above, to lengthen out an old mans life in misery and pain; why did not Time put out the sight of both my eyes, and also deaf my ears, that I might neither hear, nor see, the death of my lifes joy? O Luxurious Death, how greedily thou feedst on youth and beauty, and leist old Age hang withering on lifes tree? O shake me off, let me no longer grow, if not, grief shall by force snip off my tender stalk, and pitty lay me in the silent grave. Heark, Heark, I hear her call me? I come, I come Childe.

He feches a great sigh.

O no, she is gone, she is gone, I saw her dead; her head hung down, like as a Lilly, whose stalk was broke by some rude blusterous wind.

He stares about.

There, there I see her on her dutious knee; Her humble eyes cast to the ground; Her spotlesse hands held up for blessings crave, asking forgivenesse for faults not done. O no, She is dead! She is dead! I saw her eye-lids cloze

like watry Clouds, which joyn to shut out the bright Sun; and felt her hands which Death made cold and numb, like as to Cristal balls; She is gone, she is gone, and restless grows my mind; thoughts strive with thoughts, & struggle in my brain, passions with passions in my heart make War.

My Spirits run like suries all about; Help help for Heavens sake, and let life out.

Ex.