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

ACT IV.

Scene 16.

Enter two women like Amazons.

1 WOman.

Our Generalless seems to be troubled, perceiving how hea∣vily this Female Army takes their losses.

2 Woman.

She hath reason, for it may hinder or at least obstruct her high designs.

Exeunt.

Scene 17.

Enter the Lady Victoria and her Amazons, she takes her stand and speaks to them.

LAdy Victoria.

Noble Heroicks, I perceive a mourning veil over the Face of this Female Army, and it becomes it well; for 'tis both natu∣ral and human to grieve for the Death of our friends; but consider con∣stant Heroicks, tears nor lamentations cannot call them out of the grave, no petitions can perswade Death to restore them, nor threats to let them go, and since you cannot have them alive being Dead, study and be industrious to revenge their quarrels on their Enemies lives, let your justice give them Death for Death, offer upon the Tombs of your Friends the lives of their Foes, and instead of weeping Eyes, let us make them weep through their Veins; wherefore take courage, cast off your black Veil of Sorrow, and take up the Firematch of Rage, that you may shoot Revenge into the hearts of their Enemies, to which I hope Fortune will favour us; for I hear that as soon as the Masculine Army have recovered strength there will be ano∣ther Battel fought, which may be a means to prove our loves to our Friends, our hate to our Enemies, and an aspiring to our honour and renown; wherefore let us imploy our care to fit our selves for our march.

All the women.

We shall follow and obey you, where, and when, and how you please.

Exeunt.

Scene 18.

Enter Doctor Educature, and Nell Careless; the Doctor weeps.

DOctor Educature.

Doth my Lady hear of my Lords Death?

Nell Careless.

The Messenger or Intelligencer of my Lords Death is now with her.

Exeunt.

Scene 19.

Enter Madam Jantil, and a Gentleman Intelligencer; the Lady seems not disturb'd; but appears as usually.

MAdam Iantil.

How died my Lord?

Gentleman.

Madam, he fought with so much courage, as his actions will never dye, and his valour will keep alive the memory of this War: for though he died, his Death was Crown'd with Victory, he digg'd his Grave out of his Enemies sides, and built his Pyramid with heaps of their Bodies, the groans of those he slew did ring his dying Knell.

Madam Iantil.

What became of his body?

Gentleman.

He gave order before the Armies joined to fight, that if he were kill'd, his body should be sought out, and delivered to you: for he said it was yours whilst he lived, and he desired it might be disposed of by you when he was dead; his desires and commands were obeyed, and his body is coming in a Litter lapt in Searcloth.

Madam Iantil.

Worthy Sir, I give you many thanks for your noble rela∣tion, assuring my self it is true because you report it, and it is my Husband that is the subject and ground of that honourable relation, whom I always did believe would out-act all words.

Gentleman.

He hath so Madam.

Madam Iantil.

Sir, if I can at any time honourably serve you, I shall be ready whensoever you will command me.

Gentleman.

Your Servant Madam.

(He was going forth and returns)

If your Ladyship hath not heard of Monsieur la Hardy's Death, give me leave to tell you he is slain.

Madam Iantil.

I am sorry, and for his Lady, for she loved him most passionably.

The Gentleman goes out.

Enter as running and calling out Doll Pacify, Madam Passionate's Maid.

Doll Pacify.

Help, help, my Lady is dead, my Lady is fallen into a swound at the report of my Masters being kill'd.

The Lady goeth out and the Maid, then they enter strait again with two or three Servants more, bringing in the Lady Passionate as in a swound.

Madam Iantil.

Alas poor Lady, her Spirits are drown'd in Sorrow, and Grief hath stopt her breath; loosen her Garments, for she is swell'd with troubled Thoughts, her Passions lie on heaps, and so oppress life, it cannot stir, but makes her senceless.

Upon the loosing of her garments she revives, and cryes out.

Madam Passionate.

O my Husband, my Husband!

She swounds again.

Madam Iantil.

Bow her forward, bow her forward.

Madam Passionate revives again.

Madam Passionate.

O let me dye, let me dye, and bury, bury me with him.

Swounds again.

Madam Iantil.

Alas poor Lady, put her to Bed, for her life will find most case there.

The Servants goes out with Madam Passionate.

Madam Jantil alone.

Madam Iantil.

O life what art thou? and Death where doest thou lead us, or what dissolv'st thou us into?

Exeunt.

Scene 20.

Enter two Gentlemen.

1 GEnt.

I wonder there is no news or Messenger come from the Army yet, when there usually comes one every day.

Enter a Messenger.

2 Gent.

O Sir, what news?

Messenger.

Faith there hath been nothing acted since the last Battel, but

it is said there will be another Battel very suddenly, for the Enemy provokes our men to fight, by reason our Lord General lies sick of his wounds, having had a Feavour, caused by the anguish of his hurts, and by his Sickness the Enemies hope to gain an advantage of his absence, but he hath put a De∣puty in his place to command in chief untill he recovers.

1 Gent.

What is become of the Female Army?

Messenger.

I hear they are marched towards the Masculine Army, but upon what design I cannot understand.

Exeunt.

Scene 21.

Enter Madam Jantil, and her Maid Nell Careless.

Madam Iantil.

Call my Steward.

The Maid goes out.

The Lady walks in a musing posture, her eyes fixt on the ground.

Enter the Steward weeping.

Steward.

O Madam, that I should live to hear this cursed news of my dear Lord and Masters Death.

Madam Iantil.

Life is a curse, and there's none happy but those that dye in the womb before their birth, because they have the least share of misery; and since you cannot weep out life, bear it with patience; but thy tears have almost washt out the memory of what I was to say, but this it is, that I would have you sell all my Jewels, Plate, and Houshold Furniture to the best advantage, and to turn off all my Servants, but just those to attend my person, but to reward all of them with something more than their wa∣ges, and those Servants that are old, and have spent their youth with my Lords Predecessors and in his service, but especially those he favoured most, give them so much during their lives as may keep them from the miseries of necessity, and vexations of poverty. Thirdly, I would have you hire the best and curioust Carvers or Cutters of Stones to make a Tomb after my directi∣on; as First I will have a marble piece raised from the ground about half a mans height or somthing more, and somthing longer than my Husbands dead body, and then my Husbands Image Carved out of Marble to be laid thereupon, his Image to be Carved with his Armor on, and half a Head-piece on the Head, that the face might be seen, which face I would have to the life as much as Art can make it; also let there be two Statues, one for Mercury, and another for Pallas, these two Statues to stand at his head, and the hands of these Statues to join and to be laid under as carry∣ing the head of my Husbands figure, or as the head lay thereupon, and their hands as his Pillow; on the right side of his figure, let there be a Statue for Mars, and the hand of Mars's Statue holding the right hand of my Hus∣bands figure, and on the left hand a Statue for Hymen, the hand on the place of the heart of my Husbands figure, and at the feet of the figure let

there be placed a Statue for Fortune also, about a yard distance from the Tomb; at the four Corners thereof, let there be four Marble Pillars raised of an indifferent height, and an Arched Marble Cover thereupon, and let all the ground be paved underneath with Marble, and in the midst on the out∣side of the marble roof let the Statute of Fame be placed in a flying posture, and as blowing a Trumpet; then some two yards distance square from those Pillars, let the ground be paved also with Marble, and at the four Corners four other Marble Pillars raised as high as the former, with Capitals at top, and the body of those Pillars round, and the Statues of the four Cardinal Virtues placed on those Capitals, sitting as in a weeping posture, and at the feet of those Pillars the Statues of the Graces imbracing each Pillar; as the Statue of Charity, the Pillar whereon the Statue of Justice sits, and the Statue of Patience, the Pillar of Temperance, and the Statute of Hope, the Pillar of Prudence, and the Statue of Faith, the Pillar of Fortitude; then set a grove of Trees all about the out-side of them, as Lawrel, Mirtle, Cipress, and Olive, for in Death is Peace, in which Trees the Birds may sit and sing his Elegy; this Tomb placed in the midst of a piece of ground of some ten or twenty Acres, which I would have incompassed about with a Wall of Brick of a reasonable height, on the inside of the Wall at one end, I would have built a little house divided into three Rooms, as a Gallery, a Bed-chamber, and a Closet, on the outside of the Wall a House for some necessary Servants to live in, to dress my meat, and to be ready at my call, which will be but seldome, and that by the ring of a Bell, but the three Rooms I would have furnished after this manner, my Chamber and the Bed therein to be hung with white, to signify the Purity of Chastity, wherein is no Co∣lours made by false lights; the Gallery with several Colours intermixt, to signify the varieties, changes, and incombrances of life; my Closet to be hung with black, to signify the darkness of Death, wherein all things are forgotten and buried in Oblivion; thus will I live a signification, not as a real substance but as a shaddow made betwixt life and death; from this House which shall be my living Tomb, to the Tomb of my dead Husband, I would have a Cloyster built, through which I may walk freely to my Husbands Tomb, from the injuries of the weather, and this Cloyster I would have all the sides thereof hung with my Husbands Pictures drawn to the life by the best Painters, and all the several accidents, studies and exercise of his life; thus will I have the story of his life drawn to the life: see this my desire speedily, carefully, and punctually done, and I shall reward your service as a carefull and diligent Steward and Servant.

Steward.

It shall be done, but why will not your Ladyship have my Lords figure cast in Brass?

Madam Iantil.

Because the Wars ruin Tombs before Time doth, and metals being usefull therein are often taken away by necessity, and we sel∣dome find any ancient Monuments but what are made of Stone, for cove∣tousness is apt to rob Monuments of metal, committing Sacrileges on the dead, for metals are soonest melted into profit, but Stone is dull and heavy, creeping slowly, bringing but a cold advantage, wherein lies more pains than gains.

Steward.

But your Ladyship may do all this without selling your Jewels, Plate, and Houshold Furniture.

Madam Iantil.

It is true, but I would not let so much wealthly dead in Vanity, when exchanging them for money, I can imploy it to some good use.

Steward.

Your Ladyship hath forgotten to give order for blacks.

Madam Iantil.

No I have not, but I will give no mourning untill my Husbands body be carried to the Tomb; wherefore I have nothing more to imploy you in at this time, but only to send hither my Chaplain Doctor Educature.

The Steward goes out.

Enter Doctor Educature.

Madam Iantil.

Doctor, although it is not the profession of a Divine to be an Historian, yet you knowing my Husbands life and natural disposition best, being in his Childhood under you Tutorage, and one of his Family ever since, I know none so proper for that work as you; and though you are natu∣rally an eloquent Orator, yet the bare truth of his worthy Virtues and He∣roical actions will be sufficient to make the story both profitable, delightfull, and famous; also I must intreat you to choose out a Poet, one that doth not meerly write for gain, or to express his own wit, so much as to endea∣vour to Pencil with the pen Virtue to the life, which in my Lord was so beautifull as it was beyond all draughts, but the theam will inspire his Muse, and when both these works are writ, printed and set out, as divulged to the World as a patern for examples, which few will be able to imitate, then I would have these books ly by me as Registers of memory, for next unto the Gods my life shall be spent in Contemplation of him; I know I shall not need to perswade you to do this, for your affection to his memory is ready of it self; but love and duty binds me to express my desires for his Fame leaving nothing which is for my part thereunto.

Doctor Educature.

Madam, all the service I can do towards the memory of my dear Pupil; and noble Lord and Patron, shall be most devoutly obser∣ved and followed; for Heaven knows, if I had as many lives to dispose of as I have lived years, I would have Sacrificed them all for to haue redeemed his life from Death.

Doctor Educature goes out.

Madam Jantil alone.

Madam Iantil.

When I have interred my Husbands body, and all my de∣sires thereunto be finished, I shall be at some rest, and like an Executrix to my self executing my own will, distributing the Rites and Ceremonies, as Legacies to the dead, thus the living gives the dead; but O my Spirits are tired with the heavy burden of Melancholy, and grow faint for want of rest, yet my senses invite me thereunto, yet I cannot rest in my Bed, for fright∣full Dreams disturb me; wherefore I will ly down on this floor, and try if I can get a quiet sleep on the ground, for from Earth I came, and to Earth I would willingly return.

She lays her self down upon the ground, on one side of her Arm bowing, leaning upon her Elbow, her Forehead upon the palm of her hand bowing for∣wards, her face towards the ground; but her grief elevating her passion, thus speaks.

Madam Iantil.

Weep cold Earth, through your pores weep, Or in your bowels my salt tears fast keep;

Inurn my sighs which from my grief is sent, With my hard groans build up a Monument; My Tongue like as a pen shall write his name, My words as letters to divulge his fame; My life like to an Arch over his Ashes bend, And my desires to his grave descend; I warn thee Life keep me not Company, I am a friend to Death thy Enemy; For thou art cruell, and every thing torments, Wounding with pain all that the World presents; But Death is generous and sets us free, Breaks off our Chains, and gives us liberty; Heals up our wounds of trouble with sweet rest, Draws our corrupted passions from our breast; Layes us to sleep on Pillows of soft case, Rocks us with silence nothing hears nor sees.

She fetches'a great sigh.

O that I may here sleep my last.

After a short slumber she wakes.

If it were not for Dreams sleep would be a happiness next unto Death; but •• find I cannot sleep a long sleep in Death, I shall not dye so soon as I would.

Love is so strong and pure it cannot dy, Lives not in sense, but in the Soul doth lye; Why do I mourn? his love with mins doth dwell, His love is pleas'd mine entertains it well; But mine would be like his one imbodied, Only an Essence or like a Godhead.

Exeunt.

Scene 22.

Enter Doctor Comfort, and Doll Pacify.

DOctor Comfort.

How doth our Lady Doll?

Doll Pacify.

To day she began to sit up, but yet she is very weak and faint.

Doctor Comfort.

Heaven help her.

Doll Pacify.

You that are Heavens Almner, should distribute Heavens gifts out of the purse of your mouth, and give her single Godly words in∣stead of single silver pence, to buy her some Heavenly food to feed her fa∣misht mind.

Doctor Comfort.

Thou are a full-fed wench.

Doll Pacify.

If I were no better fed than you feed me, which is but once a week, as on Sundayes, I should be starved.

Doctor Comfort.

You must fast and pray, fast and pray.

Exeunt.