Fragmenta aurea A collection of all the incomparable peeces, written by Sir John Suckling. And published by a friend to perpetuate his memory. Printed by his owne copies.

ACTUS I. SCENA I.

Enter IOLAS, IOLINA.

Jolas,

MArried? and in Diana's Grove!

Jolin.

So was th'appointment, or my Sense deceiv'd me.

Jolas,

Married! Now by those Powers that tye those pretty knots, 'Tis very fine, good faith 'tis wondrous fine:

Jolin.

What is, Brother?

Jolas,

Why? to marrie Sister— T'injoy 'twixt lawfull and unlawfull thus A happinesse, steale as 'twere ones owne; Diana's Grove▪ sayest thou?—Scratcheth his head.

Jolin.

That's the place; the hunt once up, and all Ingag'd in the sport, they meane to leave The company, and steale unto those thickets, Where, there's a Priest attends them;

Jolas,

And will they lye together think'st thou?

Jolin.

Is there distinction of sex thinke you? Or flesh and bloud?

Jolas,

True; but the King, Sister!

Jolin.

But love, Brother!

Jolas,

Thou sayest well; 'Tis fine 'tis wondrous fine: Diana's Grove—

Jolin.

Yes, Diana's grove, But Brother if you should speake of this now,—(so fast:

Jol.

Why thou know'st a drowning man holds not a thing Semanthe! she shuns me too:

(Enter Semanthe she sees

Jolin.

The wound festred sure!

(Iolas and goes in agen.

The hurt the boy gave her, when first Shee look'd abroad into the world, is not yet cur'd.

Iolas,

What hurt?

Iolin.

Why, know you not Shee was in love long since with young Zorannes, (Aglaura's brother,) and the now Queens betroth'd?

Iolas,

Some such slight Tale I'ave heard.

Iolin.

Slight? she yet does weep, when she but hears him nam'd, And tels the prettiest, and the saddest stories Of all those civill wars, and those Amours, That, trust me both my Lady and my selfe Turne weeping Statues still.

Iolas,

Pish, 'tis not that. 'Tis Ziriff and his fresh glories her•• Have rob'd me of her. Since he thus appear'd in Court, My love has languish'd worse than Plants in drought. But time's a good Physician: come, lets in: The King & Queen by this time are come forth.

Exeunt.

Enter Serving-men to Ziriff.

1 Serv.

Yonder's a crowd without, as if some strange Sight were to be seen to day here.

2 Serv.

Two or three with Carbonadoes afore in stead of faces mistook the doore for a breach, & at the opening of it, are striving still which should enter first.

3 Serv.

Is my Lord busie?

(Knocks.)

Enter Ziriff as in his Studie.

1 Serv.

My Lord there are some Souldiers without—

Zir.

Well▪ I will dispatch them presently.

2 Serv.

Th'Embassadours from the Cadusians too—

Zir.

Shew them the Gallerie.

3 Serv.

One from the King—

Zir.

Again? I come, I come.

Exeunt Serving-men.

Ziriff solus.

Greatnesse, thou vainer shadow of the Princes beames, Begot by meere reflection, nourish'd in extreames; First taught to creepe, and live upon the glance, Poorely to fare, till thine owne proper strength Bring thee to surfet of thy selfe at last. How dull a Pageant, would this States-play seeme To mee now; were not my love and my revenge Mixt with it?— Three tedious Winters have I waited here, Like patient Chymists blowing still the coales, And still expecting, when the blessed houre Would com, should make me master of The Court Elixar, Power, for that turnes all: 'Tis in projection now; downe, sorrow, downe, And swell my heart no more, and thou wrong'd ghost Of my dead father, to thy bed agen, And sleep securely; It cannot now be long, for sure Fate must, As't has been cruell, so▪ a while be just.

Exit.

Enter King and Lords, the Lords intreating for Prisoners.

King.

I say they shall not live; our mercie Would turne sinne, should we but use it er'e: Pittie, and Love, the bosses onely be Of government meerly for show and ornament. Feare is the bit that mans proud will restraines, And makes its vice its vertue—See it done.

Enter to them Queen, Aglaura, Ladies, the King addresses himselfe to Aglaura.

So early, and so curious in your dresse, (faire Mistresse?) These prettie ambushes and traps for hearts Set with such care to day, looke like designe: Speake, Lady, is't a massacre resolv'd? Is conquering one by one growne tedious sport? Or is the number of the taken such,

That for your safetie you must kill out-right?

Agl.

Did none doe greater mischiefe (Sir) than I, Heav'n would not much be troubled with sad storie, Nor would the quarrell man has to the Starres Be kept alive so strongly.

King.

When hee does leave't Woman must take it up, and justly too; For robbing of the sex and giving all to you.

Agl.

Their weakenesses you meane and I confesse Sir.

King.

The greatest subjects of their power or glorie. Such gentle rape thou act'st upon my soule, And with such pleasing violence dost force it still; That when it should resist, it tamely yeilds, Making a kinde of haste to be undone, As if the way to victorie were losse, And conquest came by overthrow.

Enter an Expresse delivering a Packet upon his knee.

The King reads.

Qu.

Prettie!

The Queen looking upon a flower in one of the Ladies heads.

Is it the child of nature, or of some faire hand?

La.

'Tis as the beauty Madam of some faces, Arts issue onely.

King.

Thersames, This concernes you most, brought you her picture?

Exp.

Somthing made up for her in hast I have.

(Presents

King.

If she does owe no part of this faire dower (the Pi∣cture. Vnto the Painter, she is rich enough.

Agl.

A kinde of merry sadnesse in this face Becomes it much.

King.

There is indeed, Aglaura, A prettie sullenesse drest up in smiles, That sayes this beauty can both kill, and save. How like you her Thersames?

Ther.

As well as any man can doe a house By seeing of the portall, here's but a face, And faces (Sir) are things I have not studied; I have my dutie, and may boldly sweare.

What you like best will ever please me most.

King.

Spoke like Thersames, and my sonne, Come! the day holds faire, Let all the Hunts-men meet us in the vale, We will uncouple there.

Exeunt.

Ariaspes: solus stayes behinde.

Ariasp.

How odd a thing a croud is unto me! Sure nature intended I should be alone, Had not that old doting man-mid-wife Time Slept, when he should have brought me forth▪ I had Been so too—

Studies and Scratches his head.

To be borne nere, and onely nere a crowne—

Enter Jolas.

Iol.

How now my Lord? What? walking o'th 'tops of Pyramids? Whispering your selfe away Like a deny'd lover? come! to horse, to horse, And I will shew you streight a sight shall please you More than kinde lookes from her you dote upon After a falling out.

Ariasp.

Prithee what is't?

Iol.

Ile tell you as I goe.—

Exeunt.

Enter Hunts-men hollowing and whooping.

Hunt.

Which way? which way?

Enter Thersames, Aglaura muffled.

Ther.

This is the grove 'tis somwhere here within.—

Ex.

Enter dogging of them, Ariaspes, Jolas.

Iol.

Gently! Gently!

Enter Orsames, Philan, a Huntsman, two Courtiers.

Hunts.

No hurt, my Lord, I hope.

Ors.

None, none, Thou wouldst have warranted it to another, If I had broke my neck: What? dost thinke my horse and I shew tricks? That which way soever he throwes me Like a tumblers boy I must fall safe?

Was there a bed of roses there? would I were Eunuch

if I had not as leif h'a falne in the state, as where I did; the ground was as hard, as if it had been pav'd with Pla∣tonicke Ladies hearts, and this unconscionable fellow askes whether I have no hurt; where's my horse.

1 Court.

Making love to the next mare I thinke.

2 Court.

Not the next I assure you, Hee's gallop't away, as if all the spurs i▪th' field Were in his sides.

Ors.

Why there's it▪ the jades in the fashion too. Now ha's done me an injurie, he will not come nere me. Well when I hunt next, may it be upon a starv'd cow, Without a saddle too.

And may I fall into a saw-pit, and not be taken up, but with suspition of having been private, with mine owne beast there. Now I better consider on't too, Gentlemen, 'tis but the same thing we doe at Court; here's every man striving who shall be formost, and hotly pursuing of what he seldome overtakes, or if he does, it's no great matter.

Phi.

He that's best hors'd (that is best friended) gets in soonest, and then all hee has to doe is to laugh at those thȧt are behind. Shall we helpe you my Lord?—

Or••.

Prithee doe—stay! To be in view, is to be in favour, Is it not?

Phi.

Right,

And he that has a strong faction against him, hunts, upon a cold sent, and may in time come to a losse.

Ors.

Here's one rides two miles about, while another leapes a ditch and is in before him.

Phi.

Where note the indirect way's the nearest.

Ors.

Good againe—

Phi.

And here's another puts on, and fals into a Quag∣mire, (that is) followes the Court till he has spent all (for your Court quagmire is want of money) there a man is sure to stick and then not one helps him out, if they doe not laugh at him.

1 Court.

What think you of him, that hunts after my rate And never sees the Deere?

2 Court.

Why he is like some young fellow, that follows The Court, and never sees the King.

Ors.

To spurre a horse till he is tir'd, is

Phi.

To importune a friend till he be weary of you.

Ors.

For then upon the first occasion y'are thrown off, As I was now.

Phi.

This is nothing to the catching of your horse Orsa∣mes.

Ors.

Thou say'st true, I think he is no transmigrated Philosopher, & therfore not likely to be taken with morals. Gentlemen—your help, the next I hope will be yours, And then 'twill be my turne.—

Exeunt.

Enter againe married, Thersames, Aglaura, Priest.

Thers.

Feare not my Deare, if when Loves diet Was bare lookes and those stolne too, He yet did thrive! what then Will he doe now? when every night will be A feast, and every day fresh revelrie.

Agl.

Will he not surfet, when he once shall come To grosser fare (my Lord) and so grow sicke, And Love once sicke, how quickly will it dye?

Ther.

Ours cannot; 'tis as immortall as the things That elemented it, which were our soules: Nor can they ere impaire in health, for what These holy rites doe warrant us to doe, More than our bodyes would for quenching thirst▪ Come let's to horse, we shall be mist, For we are envies marke, and Court eyes carry farre. Your prayers and silence Sir:—to the Priest.

Exeunt.

Enter Ariaspes, Jolas.

Ari.

If it succeed? I weare thee here my Jolas—

Iol.

If it succeed? will night succeed the day? Or houres one to another? is not his lust The Idoll of his soule? and was not she The Idoll of his lust? as safely he might Have stolne the Diadem from off his head▪

And he would lesse have mist it. You now, my Lord, must raise his jealousie, Teach it to looke through the false opticke feare, And make it see all double: Tell him the Prince Would not have thus presum'd▪ but that he does Intend worse yet; and that his crowne and life Will be the next attempt.

Ari.

Right▪ and I will urge How dangerous 'tis unto the present state, To have the creatures, and the followers Of the next Prince (whom all now striue to please) Too neere about him:

Iol.

What if the male-contents that use To come unto him were discovered?

Ari.

By no meanes; for 'twere in vaine to give Him discontent (which too must needs be done) If they within him gav't not nourishment.

Iol.

Well▪ Ile away first, for the print's too big If we be seene together.—

Exit.

Ari.

I have so fraught this Barke with hope, that it Dares venture now in any storme, or weather; And if he sinke or splits, all's one to me. "Ambition seemes all things, and yet is none, "But in disguise stalkes to opinion "And fooles it into faith, for every thing: 'Tis not with th'ascending to a Throne▪ As 'tis with staires, and steps, that are the same; For to a Crowne, each humour's a degree; And as men change, and differ, so must wee. The name of vertue doth the people please, Not for their love to vertue, but their ease, And Parrat Rumour I that tale have taught. By making love I hold the womans grace, 'Tis the Court double key, and entrance gets To all the little plots; the fierie spirits My love to Armes hath drawne into my faction▪ All, but the minion of the Time, is mine,

And he shall be, or shall not be at all. He that beholds a wing in pieces torne, And knows not that to heav'n it once did beare The high-flowne and selfe-less'ning bird will thinke And call them idle Subjects of the winde: When he that has the skill to imp and binde These in right places, will thus truth discover; That borrowed Instruments doe oft convey The Soule to her propos'd Intents, and where Our Stars deny▪ Art may supply—

Exit.

Enter Semanthe, Orithie, Orsames, Philan.

Sem.

Thinke you it is not then The little jealousies (my Lord) and feares, Joy mixt with doubt, and doubt reviv'd with hope That crownes all love with pleasure? these are lost When once we come to full fruition; Like waking in the morning, when all night Our fancie has been fed with some new strange delight.

Ors.

I grant you, Madam, that the feares, and joyes, Hopes, and desires, mixt with despaires, and doubts, Doe make the sport in love; that they are The very dogs by which we hunt the Hare; But as the dogs would stop▪ and straight give o're Were it not for the little thing before; So would our passions; both alike must be Flesh▪t in the chase.

Ori.

Will you then place the happinesse, but there, Where the dull plow-man, and the plow-mans horse Can find it out? Shall Soules refin'd, not know How to preserve alive a noble flame, But let it die, burne out to appetite?

Sem.

Love's a Chamelion▪ and would live on aire, Physick for Agues, starving is his food.

Ors.

Why? there's it now! a greater Epicure Lives not on earth? my Lord and I have been In's Privie kitchin, seen his bills of Fare.

Sem.

And how, and how my Lord?

Ors.

A mightie Prince, And full of curiositie—Harts newly slaine Serv'd up intire, and stucke with little Arrowes In stead of Cloaves—

Phi.

Sometimes a cheeke plumpt up With broth, with creame and claret mingled For sauce, and round about the dish Pomegranate kernells, strew'd on leaves of Lillies.

Ors.

Then will he have black eyes, for those of late He feeds on much, and for varietie The gray—

Phi.

You forget his cover'd dishes Of Jene-strayes, and Marmalade of Lips, Perfum'd by breath sweet as the beanes first blossomes.

Sem.

Rare! And what's the drinke to all this meat, my Lord?

Ors.

Nothing but pearle dissolv'd, teares still fresh fetch'd From Lovers eyes, which if they come to be Warme in the carriage, are streight cool'd with sighs.

Sem.

And all this rich proportion, perchance We Would allow him:

Ors.

True! but therefore this is but his common diet; Onely serves When his chiefe Cookes, Liking and Opportunitie, Are out o'th' way; for when hee feasts indeed, 'Tis there, where the wise people of the world Did place the vertues, i'th' middle—Madam.

Ori.

My Lord there is so little hope we should cōvert you; And if we should, so little got by it, That weell not loose so much upon't as sleepe. Your Lordships servants—

Ors.

Nay Ladies wee▪ll wait upon you to your chambers.

Ph.

Prithee lets spare the complement, we shall doe no good

Ors.

By this hand Ile try, They keepe me fasting▪ and I must be praying.

Exeunt.

Aglaura undressing of her selfe, Jolina.

Agl.

Undresse mee:—

Is it not late, Iolina? It was the longest day, this—

Enter Thersames.

Ther.

Softly, as Death it selfe comes on, When it does steale away the sicke mans breath, And standers by perceive it not▪ Have I trod, the way unto these lodgings. How wisely doe those Powers That give us happinesse, order it? Sending us still feares to bound our joyes, Which else would over-flow and lose themselves: See where shee sits, Like day retir'd into another world. Deare mine! where all the beautie man admires In scattered pieces▪ does united lye. Where sense does feast▪ and yet where sweet desire Lives in its longing▪ like a Misers eye, That never knew, nor ••aw sacietie: Tell me▪ by what approaches must I come To take in what remaines of my felicitie?

Agl.

Needs there any new ones, where the breach Is made already? you are entred here— Long since (Sir) here and I have giv'n up all.

Ther.

All but the Fort▪ and in such wars, as these, Till that be yeilded up there is no peace, Nor triumph to be made; come▪ undoe, undoe, And from these envious clouds slide quicke Into Loves proper Sphere, thy bed: The wearie traveller▪ whom the busie Sunne Hath vex't all day, and scortch▪d almost to tinder. Nere long'd for night as I have long▪d for this. What rude hand is that?

One knockes hastily.

Goe Iolina, see but let none enter—

Iolina goes to the doore▪

Iol.

'Tis Zeriff, Sir.

Ther.

—Oh— Something of weight hath falne out it seemes, Which in his zeale he could not keepe till morning.

But one short minute, Deare, into that chamber.—

Enter Ziriff.

How now? Thou start'st, as if thy sinnes had met thee, Or thy Fathers ghost; what newes man?

Zir.

Such as will send the blood of hastie messages Unto the heart, and make it call All that is man about you into councell? Where's the Princesse, Sir?

Ther.

Why? what of her?

Zir.

The King must have her—

Ther.

How?

Zir.

The King must have her (Sir)

Ther.

Though feare of worse makes ill, still relish better And this looke handsome in our friendship, Ziriff, Yet so severe a preparation— There needed not: come, come! what ist?

Ziriff leads him to the doore, and shewes him a Guard.

A Guard! Thersames, Thou art lost; betray'd By faithlesse and ungratefull man, Out of a happinesse:—

He steps between the doore and him and drawes.

The very thought of that, Will lend my anger so much noble justice, That wert thou master of as much fresh life, As th'ast been of villany, it should not serve, Nor stocke thee out, to glorie, or repent The least of it.

Zir.

Put up: put up! such unbecomming anger I have not seene you weare before. What? draw upon your friend,

Discovers himselfe.

Doe you beleeve me right now?—

Ther.

I scarce beleeve mine eyes:—

Zorannes.

Zir.

The same, but how preserv'd, or why Thus long disguis'd to you a freer houre must speake: That y'are betrai'd is certaine, but by whom, Unlesse the Priest himselfe, I cannot ghesse

More than the marriage, though he knowes not of: If you now send her on these early summons Before the sparks are growne into a flame, You to redeeme th'offence, or make it lesse; And (on my life) yet his intents are faire, And he will but besiege, not force affection. So you gaine time; if you refuse, there's but One way; you know his power and passion.

Ther.

Into how strange a labyrinth am I Now falne! what shall I doe Zorannes?

Zir.

Doe (Sir) as Sea-men, that have lost their light And way: strike saile, and lye quiet a while. Your forces in the Province are not yet In readinesse, nor is our friend Zephines Arriv'd at Delphos; nothing is ripe, besides—

Ther.

Good heavens, did I but dreame that she was mine? Upon imagination did I climbe up to This height? let mee then wake and dye, Some courteous hand snatch mee from what's to come, And ere my wrongs have being give them end:

Zir.

How poore, and how unlike the Prince is this? This trifle woman does unman us all; Robs us so much, it makes us things of pittie. Is this a time to loose our anger in? And vainly breathe it out? when all wee have Will hardly fill the saile of Resolution, And make us beare up high enough for action.

Ther.

I have done (Sir) pray chide no more; The slave whom tedious custome has enur'd And taught to thinke of miserie as of food, Counting it but a necessarie of life, And so digesting it, shall not so much as once Be nam'd to patience▪ when I am spoken of: Marke mee; for I will now undoe my selfe As willingly, as virgins give up all first nights To them they love:—

Offers to goe out.

Zir.

Stay, Sir, 'twere fit Auglara yet were kept

In ignorance: I will dismisse the Guard, And be my selfe againe.

Exit.

Ther.

In how much worse estate am I in now, Than if I neare had knowne her; privation, Is a miserie as much above bare wretchednesse, As that is short of happinesse: So when the Sunne does not appeare, 'Tis darker, cause it once was here.

Enter Ziriff speakes to Orsames and others halfe entred.

Zir.

Nay, Gentlemen: There needs no force, where there is no resistance: Ile satisfie the King my selfe.

Ther.

—Oh 'tis well y'are come, There was within me fresh Rebellion, And reason was almost unking'd agen. But you shall have her Sir—

Goes out to fetch Aglaura.

Zir.

What doubtfull combats in this noble youth Passion and reason have!—

Enter Thersames leading Aglaura.

Ther.

Here Sir—

Gives her, goes out.

Agl.

What meanes the Prince, my Lord?

Zir.

Madam, his wiser feare has taught him to disguise His love, and make it looke a little rude at parting. Affaires that doe concerne▪ all that you hope from Happinesse, this night force him away: And lest you should have tempted him to stay, (Which hee did doubt you would and would prevaile) He left you thus: he does desire by mee You would this night lodge in the little tower, Which is in my command▪ the reasons why Himselfe will shortly tell you.

Agl.

'Tis strange, but I am all obedience—

Exeunt.