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 II. SCENA I.

Enter Thersames, Jolas a Lord of the Counsell

Iol.

I Told him so, Sir, urg'd 'twas no common kn•• That to the tying of it two powerfull Princes, Vertue and Love were joyn'd and that A greater than these two was now Ingaged in it▪ Religion; but 'twould, not doe, The corke of passion boy'd up all reason so That what was said▪ swam but o'th▪top of th'eare Nere reach't the heart:

Ther.

Is there no way for Kings to shew their power, But in their Subjects wrongs? no subject neither But his owne sonne?

Iol.

Right Sir: No quarrie for his lust to gorge on, but on what You fairly had flowne at and taken: Well—wert not the King, or wert indeed Not you▪ that have such hopes, and such a crowne To venter, and yet— 'Tis but a woman.

Ther.

How? that but againe▪ and thou art more enjurious Than hee, and woul't provoke me sooner.

Iol.

Why Sir? There are no Altars yet addrest unto her, Nor sacrifice; if I have made her lesse Than what she is, it was my love to you: For in my thoughts, and here within, I hold her The Noblest peece Nature ere lent our eyes, And of the which▪ all women else, are but Weake counterfeits, made up by her journey-men▪ But was this fit to tell you? I know you value but too high all that,

And in a losse we should not make things more, 'Tis miseries happinesse, that wee can make it lesse By art, through a forgetfulnesse upon our ils, Yet who can doe it here? When every voyce, must needs, and every face, By shewing what she was not, shew what she was.

Ther.

Ile instantly unto him—

drawes.

Iol.

Stay Sir: Though't be the utmost of my Fortunes hope To have an equall share of ill with you: Yet I could wish we sold this trifle life, At a farre dearer rate, then we are like to doe, Since 'tis a King's the Merchant.

Ther.

Ha! King, I! tis indeed. And there's no Art can canncell that high bond:

Iol.

—He cooles againe.—

(to himselfe.)

True Sir, and yet mee thinkes to know a reason— For passive nature nere had glorious end, And he that States preventions ever learn'd, Knowes, 'tis one motion to strike and to defend.

Enter Serving-man.

Serv.

Some of the Lords without, and from the King, They say, wait you.

Ther.

What subtle State tricke now? But one turne here, and I am back my Lord.—

Exit.

Iol.

This will not doe; his resolution's like. A kilfull horse-man and reason is the stirrop, Which though a sudden shock may make It loose▪ yet does it meet it handsomly agen. Stay, 'tmust be some sudden feare of wrong To her, that may draw on a sudden act From him▪ and ruine from the King; for suth A spirit will not like common ones, be Rais'd by every spell, 'tis in loves circle Onely 'twill appeare.

Enter Thersames.

Thir.

I cannot beare the burthen of my wrongs One minute longer.

Iol.

Why! what's the matter Sir?

Thir.

They doe pretend the safety of the State Now, nothing but my marriage with Cadusia Can secure th'adjoyning countrey to it; Confinement during life for me if I refuse Diana's Nunnerie for her—And at that Nunn'rie, Iolas▪ Allegiance in me like the string of a Watch Wound up too high and forc'd above the nicke, Ran back, and in a moment was unravell'd all.

Iol.

Now by the love I beare to Justice, That Nunn'rie was too severe; when vertuous love's a crime What man can hope to scape a punishment, Or who's indeed so wretched to desire it?

Ther.

Right!

Iol.

What answer made you, Sir!

Ther.

None, they gave me till to morrow, And e're that be, or they or I Must know our destinie: Come friend let's in▪ there is no sleeping now; For time is short, and we have much to doe.—

Exeunt▪

Enter Orsames, Philan Courtiers.

Ors.

Judge you, Gentlemen, if I be not as unfortunate As a gamester thinks himselfe upon the losse Of the last stake; this is the first she I ever swore too heartily▪ and (by those eyes) I thinke I had continued unperjur'd a whole moneth, (And that's faire you'll say.)

1 Court.

Very faire—

Ors.

Had she not run mad betwixt.—

2 Court.

How? mad? Who? Semanthe?

Ors.

Yea, yea, mad, aske Philan else. People that want cleere intervalls talke not So wildly: Ile tell you Gallants▪ 'tis now, since first I

Found my selfe a little hot and quivering 'bout the heart, Some ten dayes since, (a tedious Ague) Sirs; (But what of that?) The gracious glance, and little whisper past, Approches made from th'hand unto the lip. I came to visit her, and (as you know we use) Breathing a sigh or two by way of prologue, Told her, that in Loves Physicke 'twas a rule, Where the disease had birth to seeke a cure; It had no sooner nam'd love to her, but she Began to talke of Flames, and Flames, Neither devouring, nor devour'd, of Aire, And of Camelions—

1 Court.

Oh the Platoniques.

2 Court.

Those of the new religion in love! your Lord∣ship's merrie, Troth how doe you like the humor on't?

Ors.

As thou wouldst like red haire, or leannesse In thy Mistresse; scurvily, 't does worse with handsomnesse, Than strong desire would doe with impotence; A meere tricke to inhance the price of kisses—

Phi.

Sure these silly women, when they feed Our expectation so high, doe but like Ignorant Conjurers, that raise a Spirit Which handsomly they cannot lay againe:

Ors.

True, 'tis like some that nourish up Young Lions till they grow so great they are affraid of Themselves, they dare not grant at last, For feare they shou d not satisfie.

Phi.

Who's for the Town? I must take up againe,

Ors.

This villanous Love's as changeable as the Philo∣sophers Stone and thy Mistresse as hard to compasse too!

Phi.

The Platonique is ever so; they are as tedious Before they come to the point, as an old man Fall'n into the Stories of his youth;

2 Cour.

Or a widow into the praises of her first hus∣band,

Ors.

Well if she hold out but one moneth longer, If I doe not quite forget, I ere beleaguer'd there, And remove the siege to another place, may all

The curses beguil'd virgins lose upon their perjur'd lovers Fall upon mee.

Phi.

And thou woult deserve'em all.

Ors.

For what?

Phi.

For being in the company of those That tooke away the Prince's Mistresse from him.

Ors.

Peace, that will be redeem'd— I put but on this wildnesse to disguise my selfe; There are brave things in hand, heark i'thy ear••:—

(Whisper)

1. Court.

Some severe plot upon a maiden-head. These two young Lords make love, As Embroyderers work against a Mask, night and day; They think importunity a neerer way then merit, And take women as Schoole-boyes catch Squirrells. Hunt 'em up and downe till they are wearie, And fall downe before'm.

Ors.

Who loves the Prince failes not—

Phi.

And I am one: my injuries are great as thine, And doe perswade as strongly.

Ors.

I had command to bring thee, Faile not and in thine owne disguise,

Phi.

Why in disguise?

Ors.

It is the Princes policie and love; For if we should miscarrie, Some one taken might betray the rest Unknowne to one another, Each man is safe, in his owne valour;

2 Court.

And what Mercers wife are you to cheapen now In stead of his silks?

Ors.

Troth; 'tis not so well; 'tis but a Cozen of thine— Come Philan let's along:—

Exeunt.

Enter Queene alone.

Orb.

What is it thus within whispering remorse, And calls Love Tyrant? all powers, but his, Their rigour, and our feare, have made divine! But every Creature holds of him by sense, The sweetest Tenure; yea! but my husbands brother:

And what of that? doe harmlesse birds or beasts Aske leave of curious Heraldrie at all? Does not the wombe of one faire spring, Bring unto the earth many sweet rivers, That wantonly doe one another chace▪ And in one bed, kisse, mingle, and embrace? Man (Natures heire) is not by her wi••l ti'de, To shun all creatures are alli'd unto him▪ For then hee should shun all; since death and life Doubly allies all them that live by breath: The Aire that does impart to all lifes brood, Refreshing, is so neere to it selfe, and to us all, That all in all is individuall: But, how am I sure one and the same desire Warmes Ariaspes: for Art can keepe alive A beddred love.

Enter Ariaspes.

Ari.

Alone, (Madam) and overcast with thought, Uncloud—uncloud—for if wee may believe The smiles of Fortune, love shall no longer pine In prison thus, nor undelivered travel•• With throes of feare, and of desire about it. The Prince, (like to a valiant beast in nets) Striving to force a freedome suddenly, Has made himselfe at length, the surer prey: The King stands only now betwixt, and is, Just like a single tree, that hinders all the prospect: 'Tis but the cutting downe of him, and wee—

Orb.

Why would't thou thus imbarque into strange seas, And trouble Fate, for what we have already? Thou art to mee what thou now seek'st a Kingdome; And were thy love as great, as thy ambition; I should be so to thee.

Ari.

Thinke you, you are not Madam? As well and justly may you doubt the truths, Tortur'd, or dying men doe leave behind them: But then my fortune turnes my miseri••,

When my addition shall but make you lesse; Shall I indure that head that wore a crowne, For my sake should weare none? First let me lose Th' Exchequer of my wealth, your love; nay, may All that rich Treasurie you have about you. Be rifled by the man I hated, and I looke on; Though youth be full of sinne, and heav'n be just, So sad a doome I hope they keepe not from me; Remember what a quicke Apostacie he made, When all his vowes were up to heav'n and you. How, e're the Bridall torches were burnt out, His flames grew weake, and sicklier; thinke on that, Thinke how unsafe you are, if she should now, Not sell her honour at a lower rate, Than your place in his bed.

Orb.

And would not you prove false too then?

Ari.

By this—and this—loves break-fast:

(Kisses her.)

By his feasts too yet to come, by all the Beauty in this face, divinitie too great To be prophan'd—

Orb.

O doe not sweare by that; Cankers may eat that flow'r upon the stalke, (For sicknesse and mischance, are great devourers) And when there is not in these cheeks and lips, Left red enough to blush at perjurie, When you shall make it, what shall I doe then?

Ari.

Our soules by that time (Madam) Will by long ••ustome so acquainted be, They will not need that duller truch-man Flesh, But freely, and without those poorer helps, Converse and mingle; meane time wee'll teach Our loves to speake, not thus to live by signes, And action is his native language, Madam,

Enter Ziriff unseene.

This box but open'd to the Sense will doe't.

Orb.

I undertake I know not what,

Ari.

Thine own safety (Dearest)

Let it be this night, if thou do'st;

Whisper and kisse.

Love thy selfe or mee.

Orb.

That's very sudden▪

Ari.

Not if wee be so, and we must now be wise, For when their Sun sets, ours begins to rise.—

Exeunt.

Ziriff solus.

Zir.

Then all my feares are true, and she is false; False as a falling Star, or Glow-wormes fire: This Devill Beauty is compounded strangely, It is a subtill point, and hard to know, Whether 't has in't more active tempting, Or more passive tempted; so soone it forces, And so soone it yeelds— Good Gods! shee seiz'd my heart, as if from you Sh'ad had Commission to have us'd me so; And all mankinde besides—and see, if the just Ocean Makes more haste to pay To needy rivers, what it borrow'd first, Then shee to give, where she ne're tooke; Mee thinks I feele anger, Revenges Harbenger Chalking up all within, and thrusting out Of doores, the tame and softer passions;— It must be so: To love is noble frailtie, but poore sin When we fall once to Love, unlov'd agen.

Exit.

Enter King, Ariaspes, Jolas.

Ari.

'Twere fit your Justice did consider, (Sir) What way it tooke; if you should apprehend The Prince for Treason (which he never did) And which, unacted, is unborn; (at least will be beleev'd so) Lookers on, and the loud talking croud, Will thinke it all but water colours Laid on for a time, And which wip'd off, each common eye would see, Strange ends through stranger wayes:

King.

Think'st thou I will compound with Treason then? And make one feare anothers Advocate?

Iol.

Vertue forbid Sir, but if you would permit, Them to approch the roome (yet who would advise Treason should come so neere?) there would be then No place left for excuse.

King.

How strong are they?

Iol.

Weake, considering The enterprize; they are but few in number, And those few too having nothing but Their resolutions considerable about them. A Troope indeed design'd to suffer what They come to execute.

King.

Who are they are thus wearie of their lives?

Jol.

Their names I cannot give you. For those he sent for, he did still receive At a back doore, and so dismist them too. But I doe thinke Ziriff is one.—

King.

Take heed! I shall suspect thy hate to others, Not thy love to me, begot this service; This Treason thou thy selfe do'st say Has but an houres age, and I can give accompt Of him, beyond that time.—Brother, in the little Tower Where now Agla••ra's prisoner, You shall find him; bring him along, Hee yet doth stand untainted in my thoughts, And to preserve him so, Hee shall not stirre out of my eyes command Till this great cloud be over.

Jol.

Sir, 'twas the Prince who first—

King.

I know all that! urge it no more! I love the man; And 'tis with paine, wee doe suspect, Where wee doe not dislike: Th'art sure hee will have some, And that they will come to night?

Jol.

As sure as night will come it selfe.

King.

Get all your Guards in readiness, we wil our selfe Disperse them afterwards; and both be sure

To weare your thoughts within: Ile act the rest:

Exeunt.

Enter Philan, Orsames, Courtiers.

2. Court.

Well.—If there be not some great storme to∣wards, Ne're trust mee; Whisper (Court thunder) is in Every corner, and there has been to day About the Towne a murmuring And buzzing, such as men use to make, When they doe feare to vent their feares;

1. Court.

True, and all the States-men hang downe their heads, Like full ear'd corne; two of them Where I sup't, askt what time of night it was, And when 'twas told them, started, as if They had been to run a race.

2. Court.

The King too (if you mark him,) doth faigne mirth And jollitie, but through them both, Flashes of discontent, and anger make escapes:

Ors.

Gentlemen! 'tis pitty heav'n Design'd you not to make the Almanacks. You ghesse so shrewdly by the ill aspects, Or neere conjunctions of the great ones, At what's to come still; that without all doubt The Countrey had beene govern'd wholly by you, And plow'd and reap'd accordingly; for mee, I understand this mysterie as little As the new Love, and as I take it too, 'Tis much about the Time that every thing But Owles, and Lovers take their rest; Good night, Philan—away—

Exit.

1. Court.

'Tis early yet; let's goe on the Queens side And foole a little; I love to warme my selfe Before I goe to bed, it does beget Handsome and sprightly thoughts, and makes Our dreames halfe solid pleasures.

2. Court.

Agreed: agreed:

Exeunt.