The Thracian wonder a comical history as it hath been several times acted with great applause / written by John VVebster and VVilliam Rowley.

THE THRACIAN VVONDER.

ACT. 1. SCENE 1.

Enter Pheander King of Thrace, with his Sword drawn, two Noble-men holding him; Ariadne flying before him with a Childe in her arms.

1 Lord.

GOod my Liege.

2 Lord.

Dear Soveraign.

Phean.

Why do you keep the Sword of Justice back From cutting off so foul a blasted branch?

2 Lord.

Oh let your milder sence censure this Fate, And cast her not away in hate of spleen.

1 Lord.

Consider Sir, she is your onely Childe, your Kingdoms Heir, your Countries future Hope, and she may live

Phe.

To be a Strumpet, sir: Do not vex my soul with extolla∣tion of a thing so vile. Is't possible a Lady of her Birth should stain her Royal Race with beastly lust, and mix the blood of Kings with a base issue? Was it for this you were so long mew'd up within your private Chamber? Was it for this we gave so strict a charge to have your tedious Sickness lookt unto? But our examples shal be such on thee, as all the world shal take a warning by. What man, or devil in the shape of man was he, that durst presume for to pollute thee? Either confess him, or by all our gods Ile plague thy body with continual tortures; that being done, I will devise a death, that time to come shall never pattern it.

Enter Radagon with his Sword drawn.

Rad.

There's not the smallest torture while I live That shall afflict, or touch her tender body.

Phe.

What Traitor-slave dares interrupt the passage of our will? Cut him in pieces.

Ariad.

Oh, hold your hands; for mercy let him live, And twenty pieces within my bosom give.

Phe.

Death? Now 'tis probable, He lay my life this Groom is Father to the Strumpets Brat.

Enter a Guard.

A Guard there: seize him, make the Slave confess; And if he will not, kill him instantly.

Rad.

Villains, unhand me, Ile reveal the truth, I will not die in base obscurity. Pheander, know I am not what I seem (an ab∣ject Groom) but Royal as thy self: My name is Radagon, son to thy Enemy, Cicillia's King; this thirteen moneths I have conti∣nued here, in hope for to obtain what now I have, my Ariadnes love. 'Tis I am Father to this Princely Boy, and Ile maintain't even with the utmost hazard of my life.

Phe.

Thy life, base Letcher, that is the smallest satisfaction that thou canst render for thy foul Transgression. And wer't not 'gainst the Law of Arms and Nature, these hands should sacrifice your guilty souls; and with your bloods wash the foul stain from off our Royal House. As for the Brat, his brains shall be dasht out, no base remembrance shall be left of him, Ile have my will effected instantly.

1 Lord.

Dear Soveraign, let Pity plead this Case, and Natu∣ral Love reclaim your high displeasure. The Babe is guiltless of the Fact committed, and She is all the children that you have, then for your Countries cause, and Kingdoms good, be pleased to take her to your grace agen.

2 Lord.

Besides my Liege, 'tis known that Radagon Is by his Noble Birth, a worthy Lord, Princely descended, of a Royal Stock, Although not Heir apparent to a Crown; Then since their hearts have sympathiz'd in one, Confirm with love this happy Union.

Phe:

This hand shall be his Priest that dares agen presume to speak for her. What worse disgrace did ever King sustain, than I by this luxurious couple have? But you shall see our Clemency is such, that we will mildlier sentence their vilde Fact, than they themselves can look for, or deserve. Take them asunder, and attend our Doom.

Rad.

Before you speak, vouchsafe to hear me, Sir: It is not for my self I bend my knee, Nor will I crave the least forgiveness,

But for your Daughter; Do but set her free, And let me feel the worst of Tyranny.

Ariad.

The like Submission do I make for him.

Phe.

Stop her mouth, we never more intend to hear her speak: I would not have a Token of Remembrance, that ever I did bear the Name of Father. For you, lascivious Sir, on pain of death we charge you leave our Kingdom instantly: two days we limit you for your departure; which time expired, 'tis death to tread upon our Thracian Bounds.

But Huswife, as for you, You with your Brat, wee'l send afloat the Main, There to be left, never to Land again: And that your Copes-mate may be sure to loose The chief content of his desired Bliss, You shall be guarded from our Kingdoms Confines, And put to Sea, with several Windes and Tides, That ye may never more enjoy each other: She in a small Boat without Man or Oar, Shall to the mercy of the Waves be left. He in a Pinnace without Sayl or Pilate, Shall be dragg'd forth some five leagues from the shore, And there be drencht in the vast Ocean. You hear your Doom, which shall for ever stand irrevocable. Make no reply: Go strumpet, get thee hence, No sin so vile as Disobedience.

Exit Phe. the rest stay

Ariad.

A heavy, bitter Sentence! when for Love we must be banisht from our Native right: Had his high Rage but suffered me to speak, I could have my Chastity as clear, as is the unspot∣ted Lamb of Innocence.

1 Lord.

Alas, good Lady: Now on my faith I do believe as much, Ile back return unto his Majesty, and urge him to recal his heavy Doom.

Ariad.

Oh no, I would not for the world, believe me sir, Endanger you in such an Embassy. Let him persist, the Heavens hath ever sent, A Tower of strength to guard the innocent. Oh Radagon, we two shall never meet, Until we tread upon the higher Frame.

Farewel, Dear Love. Poor Babe, thy wretched Birth▪ Makes us to part eternally on earth.

Exit Ariad. & Guard.

Rad.

My life, my soul, all my falicity, Is in a trice divided from my sight! No matter now what ere become of me, All earthly joys are lost in loosing thee.

Exeunt.

Enter Titterus and Pallemon.

Tit.

Come, I must know your cause of Discontent.

Pal.

I know it is your love to urge thus far, and 'tis my love thus to conceal it from you: should I relate my cause of Sorrow to you, and you seeking my remedy, should wound your self, think what a Corsive it would prove to me. And yet I wonder you conceive it not; if you consider truly your own state, you'l finde our cause of grief to be alike.

Tit.

You have found a pretty way to silence me, but 'twill not serve, indeed it will not, sir, because I know you do dissemble with me. The strongest Allegation that ye have, is that you sor∣row for a Fathers death, and that I know is feigned; for since that time my self have heard you, in your Roundelays more fro∣lick far than any of the Swains; and in your pastimes on the Ho∣lidays strive to surpass the activest of us all, therefore that cannot serve you for Excuse; And for your flocks, I'm sure they thrive as well as any shepherds do upon the plain, that makes me won∣der, and importunate to know the cause that might procure this sadness.

Pal.

Since nothing but the Truth will satisfie, Take't in a word, brother: I am in Love.

Tit.

Ha, ha, what's that?

Pal.

A god which many thousands do adore.

Tit.

A Fable that fond fools gives credit too: I that have bin a Shepherd all my life, and ne're train'd up to School as thou hast bin, would scorn to be deluded by a Fiction, a thing that's no∣thing but inconstancy. Didst never hear the Invective that I made?

Pal.

No, nor desire it now.

Tit.

Yes, prithee mark it, Ile tell thee my opinion now of Love. Love is a Law, a Discord of such force, That 'twixt our Sense and Reason makes divorce.

Love 's a Desire, that to obtain betime, We loose an Age of Years pluckt from our prime. Love is a thing to which we soon consent, As soon refuse, but sooner far repent. Then what must women be that are the cause,

Enter old Anti∣mon & Clown.

That Love hath life? that Lovers feel such laws? They 'r like the Windes upon Lapanthaes shore, That still are changing. Oh then love no more. A womans Love is like that Syrian Flow'r, That buds, and spreads, and withers in an hour.

Pal.

See Orpheus, you have drawn Listners.

Tit.

What, dost make beasts of 'em?

Ant.

Come son, let's make haste to fold up our flocks, I fear we shall have a foul Evening.

Clown.

I think so too Father, for there's a strong winde risen in the back door. S'nails! yonder's Mr. Titterus the merry Shep∣herd, and the old fool my father would pass by; wee'l have a Fit of Mirth before we part.

Tit.

Hoyse a Gods-name, cannot the Puppy see?

Clown.

Hardly sir, for he has been troubled with sore eyes this nine days.

Tit.

Muscod, come hither, what shall I give thee to put my brother Pallemon from his dumps?

Clown.

I do not know what you'l give me, but promise what you will, I'm sure to be paid if, I meddle with him: he's the strangest humor'd man now of late that e're I met withal; he was ready to lay his Hook o're my pate t'other morning, for giving him the time of the day. But upon one condition Ile venter a knock this once.

Tit.

What's your condition?

Clown.

Marry, that you would give me a delicate Song to court my Wench withal; but it must be a good one, for women are grown so musical now adays, they care not a pin for a Song un∣less it be well prickt.

Tit.

Oh, I have one a purpose: hark, shalt hear it.

〈2 pages missing〉〈2 pages missing〉

Seren.

Nothing shall serve, but what I have prefixt.

Pal.

Ile pluck the Moon from forth the Starry Throne, And place thee there to light the lower Orb; And if stern Pluto offer to embrace thee, Ile pitch him head-long into Phlegeton.

Stren.

Phebus defend me! Oh, I fear he's mad.

Pal.

Or if thou'lt live, and be the Shepherds Queen, Ile fetch Senessa frown the Doun of Swans to be thy handmaid; the Phry∣gian Boy that Jove so doted on, shall be thy Page, and serve thee on his knee: Thou shalt be guarded round with Jolly Swains, such-as was Luno's Love on Latma's hill: Thy Musick shall sur∣pass the Argo's tamer. If this content thee not, Ile dive into the bottom of the Deep, and fetch thee Bracelets of the Orient Pearl, the Treasure of the Sea shall all be thine.

Ser.

He's stark mad! some power withhold him here, Until I finde some place to shelter me.

Exit.

Pal.

Art thou gone in haste? Ile not forsake thee; Runn'st thou ne're so fast, Ile o'retake thee: Or the Dales, or the Downs, through the green Meadows, From the fields through the towns, to the dimshadows. All along the Plain, to the low Fountains, Up and down agen from the high Mountains: Eccho then, shall agen tell her I follow, And the Floods to the Woods, carry my holla, holla, ce, la, ho, ho, hu

Exit.

A dumb-show.

Thunder and Lightening.

Enter old Antimon bringing in Ariadne shipwrackt, the Clown tur∣ning the childe up and down, and wringing the Clouts. They pass over the Stage.

Exeunt.

Enter Radagon all wet, looking about for shelter as shipwrackt. Enter to him Titterus, seems to question him, puts off his Hat and Coat, and puts on him, so guides him off.

Exeunt. Storm cease.

Enter Chorus.

Chor.

This storm is o're, but now a greater storm is to be fear∣ed, that is, your Censures of this History. From cruel shipwrack you have here beheld the preservation of these banisht Princes, who being put to sea in Mastless Boats, with several Windes and

Tides were driven back to the same Coast that they were banisht from; which understanding, lest they should be known, they change their Names and Habits, and perswade the silly shepherds they are Foreigners: in several Cottages remote from Court these Lovers live, thinking each other dead. The sighs, the tears, the passions that were spent on either side, we could describe to you,

Enter Time with an Hour-glass, sets it down, and exit.

But time hath barr'd us: This is all you see That he hath lent us for our History. I doubt we hardly shall conclude so soon: But if you please to like our Authors Pen, We'l beguile Time, and turn his Glass agen.

Exit.

Finis Actus Primi.

ACT. 2. SCENE. 1.

Groans of dying men heard within.

Enter two Lords of Thrace, severally.

1 Lord

GOod Gods, be merciful.

Within.

Oh, oh, oh.

2 Lord.

Some Power defend us from this noisom Sickness. Stand: who's that, the Winde?

1 Lord.

Keep distance then. Oh my Lord, is't you? this is a fearful Visitation, the people as they walk, drop down in heaps.

Enter Lord Leonardo.

Retire and keep the winde, here comes another.

Leo.

Oh, oh, falls dead.

2 Lord.

Mercy, he's dead!

1 Lord.

Who is't?

2 Lord.

I cannot well discern him, but I think it is the Lord Leonardo: Yes, 'tis he.

1 Lord

A fearful rest receive him, he was vertuous.

My Lord, I would fain exchange some private words with you, I think you are clear.

Enter Sophos the Kings brother, reading a Letter.

2 Lord.

Upon my life I am.

1 Lord.

Let's walk together then.

Soph.

Alas poor Neece, cruel unnatural Father, a Falleris, a smiling Tyrant, to use his Daughter with such cruelty: Bless me, I fear I have taken the Infection.

1 Lord.

'Tis Sophos the Kings Brother come to Court.

Soph.

I heard some speak, keep off what e're you be: Who is't, Pallation? where's the King my Brother?

1 Lord.

In his Bed-chamber.

Soph.

Tell him I am here.

1 Lord.

I shall my Lord. Some there remove the body.

Exit Lord

Soph.

No, it shall lye, Himself shall see in what a state we live: His Daughter's murthered, banisht I should say, And the Cicillian Prince, both innocent.

Cor. and Flor.

A little insant perisht, the Gods know As lawfully begot as he or I. Nay, never stare, 'tis true: the Gods Are not displeased without cause. Heyda! Is this a time for Musick? And so it is indeed; for every one Is ready to kick up his heels.

Within.

Oh, oh, oh. I marry sir, here's musick fits the time.

Enter Pheander in his Gown and Cap, 1 Lord.

Phe.

What horrid shreiks and clamors fills our ears? Are groans sit Musick for a Princes Court?

Soph.

'Tis Musick fit for Princes that delight in devisish Dan∣ces: Look sir, behold here's one hath danc'd himself quite out of breath: here's good Leonardo gone, your Daughter's dead, poor Neece, with tears I speak it, and your Land infected with a Plague incurable, your Court, and 'twas not wont to be the Court-disease: what should occasion this but——would I durst speak what I suspect: suspect, said I? nay what is truth, for that's beyond suspition. Read that, then guess the cause of our in∣flictions.

Phe.

Ha, ha, ha, ha. This was a subtile and shrewd Device to shadow Treachery, was it not my Lords? Having wrapt Treason in a poisoned paper, delivers it to us to take the infection.

Soph.

By the blest Sun 'tis false, I am no Traitor, as loyal as the truest Subject here; yet there is poison in't of power and strength to make a Fathers heart to swell and burst at the recital of such Tyranny. Thy Daughter's chaste, a Royal spotless Prin∣cess, she here doth vow, and call the Gods to witness, she ne're admitted him unto her bed, until the Nuptial Rites were cele∣brate; yet Tyrant-like thou putt'st her unto sea, not suffering her

to plead her innocence, where she and her poor Babe did suffer death.

Phe.

Dissembling hypocrite, art not asham'd to lay such shal∣low baits to catch a Crown? Observe what a discover'd way he treads, thinking her dead, which all you know she justly merit∣ed, has forged this Letter, to turn your hearts with seeming pity to dispossess us, and be King himself: But you whose hearts have ever yet bin loyal, know how to censure of such Treachery with true discretion. Pray ye use him kindly, let him not feel too many cruel tortures, he is our Brother, though he have transgrest the Law of Gods and Nature, we are loath to punish with too much severity.

Soph.

Ha, ha, ha. Now give me leave to laugh, devouring Crockodile, dost think I fear to die? Let death fright those that fear to die for ever: let me behold him in his ugliest shape, he's then most lovely; if I did fear, I'd ne're have uttered this, it was to clear thy Daughters innocence, and blaze thy infamy unto the world, for this I did it: if for this I die, I die for truth, live with eternity.

Phe.

Take him aside until we call for him.

Soph.

Do not touch me, slaves, I scorn to run.

Exit Guard with Sophos.

Phe.

Your councel Lords what we best to do, You see his guilt apparently appears: We dare not call a Publique Consultation For fear of the Infection, unto you We will referre the manner of his death. Here seat your selves, and every man set down His several Censure; which when we survey, We'l give our Sentence, either Life or Death.

Exit.

They seat themselves at a Table severally, and fall to writing.

Enter a Noble-man of Cicillia, the 1 Lord.

1 Sicil. L.

I think this be the Land of Golgotha, inhabited by none but by the dead, except some airy shadows, and they 'r si∣lent, the streets are strewed with breathless carcases, as 'twas in Rome when Marius Silla warred. All that do see me, shun me like the Plague, and shut their doors, sure I am not infectious. Entring the Court, the Guard stood gazing at me, and gave me

free access into the Palace, without demanding whence, or what I came for; the strangeness of their looks and fearful action, makes me imagine that I am transformed: would I could meet but with a Water-spring, to see if I retain my wonted shape. This should be near the Presence: what are these? they should be Lawyers, they'r not dumb I'm sure.

1 Th. Lord.

What's he?

1 Lord.

Some stranger.

3 Th. Lord.

How came he in the Guard?

1 Sc. Lord.

They speak, Ile try if they can hear.

1 Th. Lord.

Keep back, who are you? The cause of your ap∣proach so near the King?

1 Sc. Lord.

Your out-sides speak you noble. Know my Lords, the Cause of my arrival in this Land, is in the search of Princely Radagon, now Son and Heir to the Scicilian King; if ever you did hear of such a Prince, let not fore-passed hate extinguish him, but glad an aged Father with a Son, who now is all the chil∣dren he hath left. They shake their heads and weep: Good Gods I fear they have ta'ne away his life by tyranny.

Enter Pheander ready.

Phe.

What stranger's that? what makes him in our Court? What, are you dumb? Why do you not resolve us?

1 Lord.

He is a Subject to Cicillias King, and comes in search of banisht Radagon.

1 Sc. Lord.

How, banisht?

Phe.

I sir, banisht. And 'twas too milde a satisfaction for the base wrongs that I sustained by him: in a small Boat hopeless of help or life, he was put forth to sea by our Command. This you may tell your King, and so be gone.

1 Sc. Lord.

You could not be so unmerciful, to use a vertuous Prince so cruelly: you durst not so transgress the Law of Kings, to murther him, although your Enemy. I know no cause of his did merit it, but the stern hate of ancient Enmity.

Phe.

How dare you sir, capitulate the Cause? Go, bid your Master come himself to know, and then perchance we may re∣solve it him.

1 Sc. Lord.

Be sure he will, thou cruel Homicide, and ask the Cause in such a thundring Language, will make both thee and all that hear it, tremble.

Exit Scil. Lord.

Phe.

We'l answer him as loud, sir, fear it not.

But to our first Affairs: what is your Censure? is Life or Death the Sentence we must give?

1 Lord.

Mine is his Life, my Liege.

2 Lord.

And so is mine.

3 Lord.

Mine is his life, but not his liberty.

Phe.

Why not his death as well? His fact is Treason.

1 Lord.

Suspected, but not proved; therefore 'tis fit he should be kept close Prisoner, till we hear how the rude multitude do stand affected, for he was deeply seated in their hearts.

Phe.

We are resolved, let him be streight brought forth, We'l use him with what clemency we may; I know the Gods, whom Kings should imitate, Have plac'd us here to rule, not overthrow.

Enter Sophos.

Justice shall hand in hand with mercy go. We speak before a King, but now a brother; If you will yet confess your Guilt and Cause. That moved you first unto this Forgery, We may perhaps forgive you; otherwise There is no other favor but to die.

Soph.

Ha, ha, ha, to die! I do not think I shall be made so happy, for death's the honest mans felicity, there is no favor that I crave but death; in living here I shall more torments finde, but being dead, there ends my misery.

Phe.

If you will yet confess, we will have mercy.

Soph.

Mercy, on whom, for what? You are deceiv'd, It is a thing not in thy power to give. Mercy's immortal, and to humane eyes Is never seen till fleshly passion dies.

Phe.

It seems then sir, you do desire to die?

Soph.

With full consent, for life's a loathsom vale of misery.

Phe.

In which thou still shalt live: thy life we give, but doom thee to perpetual banishment: we limit you no time, therefore dispatch. See that he instan••ly depart the Court.

Soph.

Dost think Ile stay, by all our gods thy Crown and King∣dom shal not hire me to't. Tyrant fare vel, if e're I do return, cities that now stand, shall be heaps of stone.

Exit Sophos.

Phe.

This foggy Cloud disperst, I hold it fit some poste to the Delphos to the Oracle, to know what shall ensue these Thunder∣claps that threaten such destraction, we our self will see you fur∣nisht

for the Offering. Whom shall we send? Cleanthes? No: you two prepare for your departure presently. What though he was our Brother? 'tis not fit mistrustful men should live within our Court: what is't to be a King, and stand in aw?

Cor. and Flor.

Those that intreat, and may command with fear, Are fitter to climb up than tarry here.

Exeunt omnes.

Enter Titterus and Radagon severally.

Tit.

Stirring so early, Partner, then I see you'l prove a weal∣thy shepherd; watchfulness is the chief star within our Kalendar: 'twere vain to ask you how you affect this life, your forwardness expresses that you like it.

Rad.

Who can dislike a peaceful happiness? Methinks I never proved a sweeter happiness; in every corner here Content sits smiling: the Mountain tops I make my Morning-walks, the eve∣ning-shades my recreation, and when Nights Queen puts on her gorgeous Robe, I take delight to gaze upon the stars, in which methinks I read Philosophy; and by the Astronomical Aspects I search out Natures secrets, the chief means for the preventing my Lambs prejudice. I tell-you sir, I finde in being a shepherd, what many Kings want in their Royalties.

Tit.

I joy in your content, yet wonder sir, you do frequent such melancholly Walks; I have observ'd your passions many times, and seen you sit sole companied with thought, as if your passions were your Comforters, I fear some foolish female has entrapt you.

Rad.

Not any sir, believe it, that's a thing I thank my stars I ne're did estimate. Love that imparadizeth some, to me Is hell it self, if hell on earth there be.

Tit.

Blest be the hour that e're I met with thee, Not love a woman? have I a second self? Oh happy, happy man, not love a woman!

Rad.

I do not yet, assure you.

Tit.

Nor ever do, if you do love your self; of all things in the world take heed of 'em: I have a brother mad forsooth, for Love. But that I had a mother, I could wish that there were no such things as women are. We shall have such a hoyting here anon, you'l wonder at it. 'Tis Pan's Holiday, the chiefest Festival

the shepherds keep, 'tis held upon this Green.

Rad.

I thought as much, belike then that's the cause.

Musick.

This place is so bedeckt and strowed with flowers.

Tit.

The very same: they come, observe the custom.

Enter old Antimon and another old Shepherd, after them two Shep∣herds to dance, then the Clown with Garlands upon his Hook, himself drest with Ribbons and Scarfs, then Ariadne the Prin∣cess like a Shepherdess, with Serena and two other Shepherdesses to dance.

Cease Musick.

Ant.

Titterus! well met, you are the welcomest man I see to day, the wenches were afraid you'd not have come, and then our Roundelays had all bin spoiled.

Tit.

Sir, you may thank this man: pray bid him welcome, he's a stranger here.

Ant.

What Countrey-man?

Rad.

Scicillia gave me life, on whose fair Promontories I have lived this many yeares, till Covet to see change, brought me to Thrace, which I affect so well, I would continue.

1 Shep.

And welcome.

2 Shep.

Welcome,

Clown.

Y'are very heartily welcome.

Ant.

Son, set down thy Hook, and shake it lustily, Win me the Garland, and I promise thee Ile give thee two fat Wethers to make merry. Oh, when I was a young man, I'd a tickl'd it.

Clown.

I warrant ye father, for the Cast of the Leg, The standing Caper, or the Placket Jump, Let me alone, Ile firk 'em up ifaith.

1 Shep.

Sir, you'l make one? Nay, no excuse shall serve, We know you can, and will not be denied.

Rad.

I shall but shame our Countrey-men▪ Will you?

Tit.

Who I? And 'twere not to observe the Ceremony, They should not have me here. I must do somewhat.

Ant.

Come, y'are well matcht, strike Musick and begin, We two will sit as Judges.

Dance, wherein Ariadne, alias Mariana, dances with Ra∣dagon.

Dance ends.

Soft Musick. The men all pass by the two old Shepherds with obey∣sance, Radagon last; as he makes Congee, they put the Crown

upon his head, he offers to refuse it, they put it on him, and set him betwixt them.

Ant.

Nay, you must not refuse it, 'tis deserved, you have it with a general consent, this shall confirm't.

1 Shep.

And this.

The rest of the Shepherds pass by him with obeysance.

2 Shep.

And this.

Rad.

I thank you.

Musick agen. The wenches come with obeysance to Ariadne, crown her Queen of the Spherdesses, they lead her to Radagon their King; she and they make obeysance to him, he rises and kisses her.

Musick ceases.

Ant.

Come, spread the Cloth, and bring away the Meat: So, so, sit down. Daughter attend the Queen, It may be thy turn next.

Enter Clown with a Table-Cloth, he and Ant. spread it ridiculously on the ground, they all sit down.

That's a good boy.

Musick. Dishes of Apples, Nuts, and Cheese-cakes.

Enter Titterus like old Janus, with a Coat girt to him, a white Beard and Hair; a Hatchet in one hand, and a Bowl in the other, he sings.

NOw does Jolly Janus greet your Merriment; For since the Worlds Creation, I never changed my fashion, 'Tis good enough to fence the Cold: My Hatchet serves to cut my firing yearly, My Bowl preserves the Juyce of Grape and Barley: Fire, Wine, and Strong Beer, makes me live so long here, To give the merry New-year a welcome in. All the potent Powers of Plenty wait upon You that intend to be frolick to day: To Bacchus I commend ye, and Ceres eke attend ye, To keep encroaching Cares away. That Boreus blasts may never blow to harm you, Nor Hymens frosts, but give you cause to warm you. Old Father Janevere, drinks a Health to all here, To give the merry New-year a welcome in.

Ariad.

Good Janivere depart: Another time We'l bid thee welcome as befits thy years, But now our Flocks are young, and should they feel But the smallest breath from thee sent in a storm, They would go near to perish, Prithee leave us.

Tit.

Since you desire my absence, I will depart this Green, Tho loath to leave the presence of such a lovely Queen, Whose Beauty like the Sun, melts all my frost away. And now in stead of Winter, behold a youthful May.

Omnes.

Titterus? Welcome.

Enter Pallemon.

I come, I come, I come.

Exeunt running.

Manent Clown & Pall.

Clown.

I go, I go, I go.

Ser.

Oh hide me from him.

Exeunt.

The Clown climbs up a tree.

Pal.

Puff, they'r blown away with a Whirlwinde: Thanks gentle Eolus, th'ast left my Love upon a lofty Pine.

Clown.

Yes, I shall pine, for I'm like to get no Victuals whilest he is here.

Pal.

That's not her voice: no, now I see her plain, 'Tis an Owl in an Ivy-bush.

Clown.

I'm glad he takes me for an Owl: now if I could but cry like one, ta witt, ta woe.

Pal.

Oh 'tis my Love, she says I come to wooe, 'tis true; Come down, dear Love; or stay, I come to thee.

Clown.

No, no, no, I come, I come down to thee. He'l break my neck, if he get up once.

Comes down.

Pal.

Alas poor heart, how pale and black she looks, I think she's almost starv'd, she's black i'th mouth! See, here's a Banquet; come sit down my Love.

Clown.

I'm glad a this, we shall feed agen.

Pal.

Yet stay: now I remember, those that are kept from vi∣ctuals a long time, must not be cloyed too much for fear they sur∣feit.

Clown.

I warrant you my Love, I will not feed.

Pal.

No, do not feed.

Clown.

Yes, yes, a little.

Pal.

No, 'tis dangerous, we'l first to sea, and purge the blood that dimns thy rosie cheeks.

Clown.

Lets fill our bellies, and we shall purge the better.

Pal.

It is not good to purge on a full stomach. Come we'l embarque us in this hollow Tree,

The Dance

And sayl to Jericho. Musick, shall we dance?

Clo.

I, I, we'l dance to Jericho.

A mad Dance, they dance off.

Consort a Lesson. A Table and Tapers. Enter Priest and two Thracian Lords. Ceremonies ended, the Priest speaks.

Priest.

Know sacred Goddess, these are sent From fertile Thrace, whose discontent By noisom Sickness is increast: But how, or when it shall be ceast,

Pythia speaks in the Musick-room behinde the Curtains.

Their King Pheander craves resolve, The reason of his Countreys grief, And when they shall regain relief?

Pythia above, behinde the Curtains.

Pith.

The ileful gods with full consent, Have plagu'd the Thracian Continent, Their Court and Countrey woe shall sing For the Transgression of their King; Who 'gainst all Right and Piety, Hath quite expell'd pure Chastity: But for the time when Plagues shall end, This Schedule to the King I send, Wherein at large is full exprest When all your woe shall be redrest.

Throws down a paper.

Priest reads.

Content shall keep in Town and Field, When Neptune from his Waves shall yield A Thracian Wonder; and as when It shall be prov'd 'mongst Thracian men That Lambs have Lions to their Guides, And Seas have neither Ebbs nor Tydes; Then shall a Shepherd from the Plain, Restore your Health and Crown agen.

Priest.

The Oracle pronounces still obscure; But what is writ, is truth most sure. Tho ne're so hard to you it seem, Time will make clear what you misdeem.

Exit.

1 Lord.

But we that time shall never live to see.

What Thracian Wonder can the Sea waves yield? Lambs ne're will have stern Lions for their guide: Or when will Seas leave off their Ebbs and Tides?

2 Lord.

Never, oh never.

1 Lord.

Then ne're shall Thrace be blest. But we will bear this Problem to the King, And let him know that for his tyranny, His Subjects suffer this calamity.

Exeunt:

Enter Antimon and Ariadne.

Ant.

Minnion, take heed, turn not my proffered Love By peevishness and folly, to disdain; for if thou dost,

Ariad.

You'l turn me out of all, I know it is the sequel of your words, which I unhappy wreteh must undergo: were every Lamb increast unto a Flock, and every Flock to thousands mul∣tiplied, I must not love you.

Ant.

You must not?

Ariad.

And worse, I must for ever hate you, if you name but Love agen: I must ingrateful be for all the courtesies you have bestowed. Love, or the thought of it, to me is like the Tallon of a soaring Hawk striking a silly Dove, it murthers me.

Ant.

So, you are sensible of your own grief, but no other pity, I am wounded too, but you feel it not.

Ariad.

Where are you wounded, sir?

Ant.

Even at the heart: I'm wounded for thy Love.

Ariad.

If I could see it bleed, I should believ't.

Ant.

You would, I thank you heartily for that.

Ariad.

Sure sir, I think you would not fear a wound, cold and decaying nature has made you strike-free, you have no blood to die with, y'are now buried in your skins Sear-cloth, and would you warm that monumental Robe at Loves fire in your grave?

Ant.

Scorn'd and abused, 'tis long of Menalchus, go with that hand preserved thee from the wrack of the devouring Billows, that ravenous and merciless assembly of salt Drops, that charita∣ble hand that long hath been the tender Foster-father to thy wants, with that hand now I turn thee off: turn thou thy face no more to any house of mine, Ile burn them all e're they shall co∣ver thee. Thou wert my joy, but this thy scornful spight,

Has made me hate where I took most delight.

Ariad.

My sweet Eusanius, It is his Loss makes me unfortunate, that weighty grief Followed by mercies, yet wert thou the chief; Where e're thou art, Fate in spight send me hither, Tho in the arms of Death we meet together.

Ent. Titterus:

Sings.

I loved a Lass, alas my folly, was full of her coy disdaining, I courted her thus: what shall I sweet Dolly do for thy dear Loves obtaining? At length I did dally so long with my Dolly, that Dolly for all her faining, Had got such a mountain above her valler, that Dolly came home complaining.

Ariad.

Oh misery, misery! which way should I turn from thee?

Tit.

Ha? there's a foolish Lover upon my life, a female heigho ifaith: Alas poor heart, why dost thou sit dejected, pretty soul, he is a hard hearted stubborn Clown I warrant him, what e're he is; but I hold him the wiser man for't though: will he not do, filthy churl as he is? poor heart, would I had a heart could pity thee.

Ariad.

What e're you are, sir, my miseries have not deserved your scorn; I do beseech you leave me with my sorrows, for I desire no other company.

Tit.

Ha? a good face ifaith, a special good face, fine Babies in her eyes, those lips speak now methinks, and say, Come kiss me. How now Titterus! the singing Satyre against all women, the Madrigal-maker against good faces, Beauties Despiser, are you in contemplation now? I must not turn my tale sure from Shep∣herds Roundelays to Epithilamiums, and Sonnets, and Io's, and Heighos? this were odd if I should, and yet by my troth I think I must for ought I can perceive; that thievish god Cupid that useth to steal hearts, affections, and sighs out of mens bosoms, is now crept into mine, and spite of my proud heart makes me confess, that

Love's a lovely Lad, his bringing up is Beauty, Who loves him not is mad; for I must pay him duty now I'm sad. Hayl to those sweet eyes, that shine celestial wonder, From thence do flames arise burns my poor heart asunder, now it fryes.

Ariad.

Sir, you are rustick, and no generous spirit to make Calamity your merry Theam. Beseech you leave me.

Tit.

Cupid sets a Crown upon those lovely Tresses; Oh spoil not with a frown what he so sweetly dresses. Ile sit down.

Ariad.

You'l force me then to rise, and flie your folly; Yet why should you have power to banish me From this free spreading Air, that I may claim For mine as well as yours? but 'tis no matter, Take this place to ye, where e're you force me go, I shall keep still my sad Companion, Wo.

Tit.

Nay then have at you in Prose, if Meter be no Meter for you, you must not leave me thus; And as even till this hour I hated women, and therefore must needs be the honester man, I will not stay you for any ill, by my hook and troth la: And now do not I know what to say to her neither, but you have a good Face, white Neck, a dainty Cheek, soft Hand, and I love you: if my Nurse had ever taught me better language, I could afford it you.

Ariad.

That very word will feather my slow feet, and make me flie from you. I hate all love, and am in love with nought but hate and scorn, sorrows and griefs, I am exposed to them, tur∣ned from a Charity that fed me once, to naked poverty, thrust in∣to the mouth of Fortunes battery, to stand all malice that she can shoot at mortal.

Tit.

What heart could be so cruel? hand so ungentle?

Ariad.

Old Antimon's, till this hour courteous, Now most unkinde and spiteful.

Tit.

Why then, has Love and Hate mistaken their Quivers to day? He that was courteous to women is now turn'd unkinde, and I that ever halted am struck most pitifully in love with 'em. Here, take all the store I have to defend thee from common ne∣cessities, to feed and lodge: I will be thus bountiful, though I never have better of thee while I live, and I am sorry I am no better furnisht; if thou remainest in these fields, Ile lend thee enough to stock thee with a Flock, and give thee day enough for

payment too. He that should have said I would a bin thus boun∣tiful to day morning, I would have said by this time he had bin a witch. Fare thee well, I have some strange meditations, that I desire to be alone my self now, some of 'em must out agen howsoever.

Whither shall I go to escape away from folly? For now there's love I know, or else'cis melancholly. heigh, heigho. Yonder lies the Snow, but my heart cannot melt it: Love shoots from his how, and my poor heart hath felt it. heigh, heigho.

Exeunt severally.

Finis Actus secundus.

ACT. 3. SCENE 1.

Enter Pheander with the two Lords from the Oracle.

Phe.

WHat news from Delphos? what says the Oracle? Wherefore is Thrace thus pesterred with these plagues?

1 Th. Lord.

My Liege, we have performed your dread Com∣mand, yet not command so much, as our desire did make our te∣dious travels to seem short, until we heard Apollo's ireful Doom; but then.

Phe.

What then? nay quick, go on I say, we long to hear the Oracles Decree.

1 Th. Lord.

Having pronounc't the gods were all displeased With woeful Thrace, she said our sorrows spring Was caused by the Transgressions of our King, Who 'gainst the Law of Equity and Right Had from his sight abandon'd Chastity. But for the time when Plagues and Woes shall end, Deliver this unto your Thracian King: Till this be full accomplisht, 'tis in vain Ever to hope, or seek redress agen.

Phe.

reads. Content shall keep in town and field, When Neptune from his waves, &c.

Pish, these moral Misteries are incredulous, nor can they con∣tradict the will of Kings: Comets portend at first blaze, but take

effect within the bosom of the destinies, so Oracles at Delphos, though foretold, are shap'd and finisht in your Councel-house; and yet I charge you both upon your lives, let not the commons understand so much, lest several censures raise a Mutiny: 'Tis death to show a discontented brow, but smooth your over-bur∣thened grief with smiles, there's no disaster that afflicts a Clime but it contains some limitation.

Enter a Fisherman.

Lets wait the time, and with domestick care,

A Cry within.

Strive to maintain those Honors we have won.

Arm, arm.

Lets stand upon our guard, I fear some Treason. Speak Villains quickly, what means this noise?

Fish.

My duty, mighty King, made me presume To press thus boldly to your Highness presence, To bid you make prevention 'gainst your foes, They are in number numberless to tell.

Tucket.

And as I guess are of Cicillia.

Phe.

What Trumpet's this? is it our enemy?

2 Lord.

One from the enemy.

Enter 1 Cicillian Lord.

Phe.

Quickly the News, that we may give an Answer.

Cic. Lord.

My Royal Master, the Cicillian King.

Phe.

We know your Message sir, in that one word: In naming him we understand the Cause.

1 Cic. Lord.

Desires to parley with your Majesty.

Phe.

We'l parley in no language, but in Steel: This shall maintain the Justice I have done, Against my Daughter, and base Radagon;

Whose hateful name when I but think upon, addes vigor to my heart to take Revenge. Be gone, and tell your King for his pre∣sumption, we'l lash him from our Land with iron rods, and dragg him at our stirrop through the streets.

1 Ci. L.

Prepare for battel, when this Answer's known.

Exit.

Phe.

We'l meet him in the mid-way: say we come.

1 Th. Lord.

Your Grace were better parley with the foe, and take a Truce, my Liege, for certain days; let your pretence be search of Radagon, which proposition they'l consent unto, then have we time to fortifie our Land, and muster stronger powers to make resistance; for as we are, we are but a handful to a multitude.

Phe.

Were they ten times as many, and we fewer, they should

not rest one night within our Bounds, till I have sated my revenge in blood: Have we so many foreign Conquests won, and shall we fear a Broil in our own Land? our powers shall march and issue forth the Towns, Armies shall grapple, and the earth shall groan to bear the burthen of Wars horror.

Come let's on; base Fear's the brand of slaves,

Trom Flor.

They that die nobly, shall have honor'd graves.

Exeunt

Enter Cicillia, 1 Lord, 2 Lord, Captains, Drums, and Soldiers.

Cicil.

Did he receive our Message with such scorn?

1 Cic. Lord.

With such a barbarous and proud disdain, he scarce would suffer me to utter it; but bid me back return, and tell your Grace he'd lash you from his Land with whips of Steel, and when he had ta'ne you Prisoner hand to hand, he'd dragg you at his stirrops through the streers.

Cicil.

I'm glad they are so valiant: then they come.

1 Cic. Lord.

The voice of Arm, Arm, hurried through the Court as swift as Lightning, and their clattering Arms put on in haste, made such a horrid noise, as if a voice had issued from the Clouds, and all the way pursued me; methinks my ears still tingle with the sound.

Cic.

Courage Cicilians, let this be your honor, they are no Cowards that you fight withal; for they have been approved in foreign Lands.

Cic. 2 Lord.

Let'em be what they will, we stand prepared, if they be bold, we are as resolute; if valiant, we undaunted and resolved. Let it be seen which of our swords this day carves dee∣pest wounds upon the breast of Thrace.

Cic. 1 Lord.

In equal balance since our fortunes lye, Let each man strive to conquer, vanquisht die.

Cic.

I like your forward spirits, and commend'em: in all our Troops I cannot spie a man whom I mislike or dread; and for my part, as you have seen a burning Taper fall and burn most bright when it begins to fade, so shall you see me in declining Age. Methinks I cannot hear their Drums to thunder, nor their hoarse brazen pipes breath forth a sound, to publish their defiance.

Cic. 1 Lord.

Does not that Eccho issue from the town?

Cic.

These are no braving Tones.

Cic. Lord.

Yet neerer, neerer still.

Cic.

Beat up our Drums, and drown their Hornets sound.

Enter the King of Thrace and Lords, his Drum unbras'd Ensigns folded up, himself in a Palmers Gown, Hat, and Staff.

Cic.

How now, what are these?

1 Cic. Lord.

Mummers my Lord, I think. Set down your Drums, we'l play for all your Crowns; I am sure you know me, you have too much cause.

Phe.

Behold great Sir, my Ensigns folded up, my Drums un∣brac'd, and all those instruments that should encourage War, quite put to silence; there's not a hand in all our warlike Host that's armed for opposition or defence.

2 Cic. Lord.

Is this the man would lash us from his Land with whips of Steel?

Cic.

Where are the horses, to whose curled Tails we must be bound and dragg'd along the streets?

1 Th. Lord.

Can you, my Lord, bear these injurious brands? This would put life in statues carv'd with hands, Much more encourage Cowards; we that late Perswaded you to peace, upon our knees Entreat you to command your Ensigns wave, And by our ancient Honors, which our foes Cannot without a blushing cheek deny, We'l make'em know they do defie their Victors.

Phe.

He forfeits his Allegiance that agen presumes to motion War: I wish my sorrows shadows, but alas they are too real, too essential, they dwell not in the face and outward brow, but have their hahitation here within, where they torment me, and shall ever till I behold Cicilia's Son secured, and my fair Daughter fast closed in my arms, those two poor innocent and spotless souls whom my remorseless rage and tyranny hath sold to all afflictions

Cic.

Speak Pheander, are not-those passions meerly counter∣feit? Do they proceed from Fear and Cowardise, that thus thou fold'st thy warlick Ensigns up, and without stroke of battel giv'st the day? Or which I rather deem, from Policy and Matchevil∣lian cunning?

Phe.

Neither Prince: but meer repentance for my late mis∣deed, which is so hainous in the eyes of Heaven, it seems beyond

their pardon; therefore now in expiation of that horrid act, and to inflict due pennance on my self, all Regal ornaments of State put off Awe and Command that wait on Majesty. I henceforth vow a lasting Pilgrimage, either to bring the Prince thy Son alive, and tender him to safety in thine arms withal, with her fair Beau∣ty in rich Thrace, rob'd of so rare a Jewel; Or if dead, end the remainder of my afflicted hours in exile and forsaken solitude, in desarts scare discovered.

Cic.

A sad Vow.

Phe.

To make which good, to thee Cicillia's King, in part of recompence to thy great wrongs, I here resign all State and Em∣pire up, my Crown, my Scepter▪ and Majestick Orb, until the Truce prefixt be quite expired; And charge you all on your Al∣legiance, Lords, that you the Faith and Homage sworn to me, pay to this King in all just Loyalty. This Pilgrims weed be now my Robe of State, no other gay Trim will Pheander wear; my Sword, the Sword of Justice born before now, is now no better than a Palmers Staff, by which I will do justice on my self in humble pe∣nance; and in stead of Gold, and Cups of hollowed Pearl, in which I us'd to quaff deep Healths of rich Pomegranate Wine, this Scallop shall be now my Drinking cup to sip cold water. I am now, Cicillia, a man reformed; for loe I die to State,

Live onely to Devotion. Lords adieu, These are my arms you Kingdom to pursue.

Exit.

Phe.

I hear your Princes minde, and hope his vowes are out of his meer zeal and penitence which I accept, will you accord with him, and promise your true Fealties to us?

1 Thr.

L. As we to him were, we are now to you, as loyal and as faithful, 'twas his pleasure, and we submit to both, acknow∣ledging his wrongs to you, and take them at the best, far above all forgiveness.

2. Thr.

L. You cannot boast of any Conquest won, To gain a kingdom, and loose such a Son.

Scicil.

This to us is a full satisfaction, and my Lords, we know how to require your gratitude, the Regency by him assigned to us we in our bounty reassign to you, be your own Lords, excepting still the fealty due to your Sovereign at his back return, in whose forc'd absence should you use our aid, we shall be your Protector.

Thr. Lords.

Noble in all his Arts is Scicilly.

Scicil.

Billet our Soldiers in such Neighboring-towns, where Victual and best Harbor may be had; withal Proclaim not the least violence be done to any Thracian, they are ours now, tho under your command. Here was a happy War fought without blows, yet no dishonor in't, he that endures such War within, can be no coward sure.

In all designs this still must be confest, He that himself subdues, conquers the best.

Exeunt.

ACT. 3. SCENE. 2.

Enter Alcade King of Affrica, Sophos, Lillia Guida, Tromp. Flor. Eusanius, and Moors, and Guard.

Alcad.

WHere's Sophos?

Soph.

Here my Lord.

Alcad.

Has our command been well effected that we gave in charge?

Soph.

Great King, it has.

Alcad.

Our purse and people are at thy dispose, leave an army of the stoutest men Affrick affords: we love thee, thou art honest. In Affrica the Moors are onely known, and never yet searcht part of Christendom; nor do we levy Arms against their Religion, but like a Prince and Royal Justicer, to patron Right, and supplant Tyranny.

We are in this as Gods, and in like care, Should punish Ignomy, and Vertue spare.

Eusan.

They gave a partial measure that subscribed Affrick within so small and strict a limit, making great Europe boundless. Royal Sir, give me but leave to go with Sophos to the Thracian Wars, that I may speak your Fame unto the world, and where you are but heard of, make you famous. If ever Fame or Valor crown my youth with the least Honors, all my services Ile dedi∣cate to you and my fair Mistriss, Wonder of her Sex, whose beau∣ty shines like to a Star amongst so many clouds of her own Na∣tion. Lillia Guida's name shall be as much in Christendom, as Greekish Hellen's was. God sir, speak for me.

Sophos.

'Thad bin my first request, but that I fear'd It would offend your Mistriss: she being pleas'd,

Upon my knee I do entreat for you.

Lillia.

To show my willingness. Ile be the third my self, and humbly crave it may not be deny'd; I do not love to be attend∣ed on in a wrought Night-cap, obeyed with quilted calves, give me a man that Agues cannot quake, nor fire tremble. Pardon me Princely Father, it is your spirit speaks, I am your own, and by that priviledge become your Suitor.

Alcad.

Our Daughter has prevail'd, Sophos your ear.

Lillia.

To give encouragement unto thy hopes, receive this fa∣vor; may it prove a charm unto thy arm, and double puissance adde unto thy strength, when any danger's extant.

1 Moor.

This it was that I long since suspected, this shall prove his tragick Fate, and ruine to her love.

Eus.

You grace me beyond merit; while I live I will make known your honors, rank your name amongst the bravest Dames of Christendom; and when I view this Scarf, it will infuse un∣daunted vigor, make me overcome impossibilities, there easie to desire.

Alcad.

Treason, didst say?

1 Moor.

Against your Majesty, dishonor of your fair and beau∣tuous Childe, their motions, gestures, looks, and conference I have observed and watched with jealous eyes, and finde 'em all corrupt. Lack, my Liege, behold before your face their amorous fire breaks forth into bright flames, is't not apparent? his suit to leave the Court, her seconding his Treason with a Boon and Fa∣vor too. You thought 'twas his desire to go to Wars, believe it not, there's no such man in him: It is some secret Plot they have contrived to flie away. Prevent it speedily.

Alcad.

Thou hast infused a spirit into my brest I never yet did feel: strange impudence! Ambition never heard of in a Peasant! A slave that neither knows his birth nor breeding, should thus presume for to seduce a Princess! Hence with that Traitor, let him have a death as horrid as his crime.

Soph.

How's this?

Eus.

A Traitor?

1 Moor.

I Traitor: Traitor, sirrah.

Eus.

Sirrah, you lie, this shall maintain't 'gainst thee or any dares affirm this Title. Mount us, great King, upon some softy spire, where is but room for two, place him amidst an host in this

just Cause to clear my honor, and her innocence: Ile pierce tho∣rough armed Guards, and make my way through Halberts, Pikes, and deadly killing shot, break through many Battels, sally tho∣rough whole Squadrons, and make him like a confused lump that ne're had form. Guard me you sacred Powers, lest I forget time, presence, place, and on this ugly slave commit an out-rage.

Alcad.

Kill, and stop his fury: insolent boy, how dares thy violence offer it self in blows, and we in presence? Had we no other cause, this were enough to take away thy Life. Away with him.

Soph.

Stay yet, dear sir, as ever I deserved grace at your hand, hear me first speak: Behold him bow to you, that in your Cause hath made great Kings to kneel, and tender you submission; for my sake let him not suffer death, 'tis undeserved, I will engage all that I have on earth that he is loyal; let not false surmize, suspect, and jealousie beget belief to wrong your Princely thoughts. In killing him, you make me guilty, and a murderer; for I first brought him hither, to my hands he did commit his life, being a childe, when on the Plain of Thrace I took him up, let him not loose it at a holy Altar, and Princes Courts are such, and should maintain as divine Priviledge as Sanctuary:

For Kings that circle in themselves with death, Poison the Air in which themselves draw breath.

Lil.

Blest be that Orator: Gracious Father.

Alcad.

Let her not speak, her words confirm suspect: bear her away unto her private chamber, there let her be confin'd a prisoner, till we determine further.

1 Moor.

It shall be done.

Exit. Guard with Lillia.

Alcad.

Sophost, his life is thine, but not his freedom.

Eus.

Durance? Worse then death.

Alcade.

No banishment save Affrica; make all the world thine own.

Soph.

The Kings all mercy.

Eus.

Ile Proclaim as much.

1 Moor.

I but my Lord, what safety for my life, which he so much hath threatned?

Eus.

I scorn to touch thy life, thou timerous slave, But Traitors are all Cowards: Fare thee well, And my deer Foster-father, wanting whom

I loose my better part; Thus they thrive, That cannot flatter Kings, feel death alive.

Exit Eusanius.

Alcade.

Nay Sophos, be not sad, 'tis thy pretended good that we pursue, the Girl was wanton, and the Boy was young, and Love is kindled by desire as soon in one poor minute as an age of time: we banisht him that she might fancy thee, whom we in∣tend shall have her, 'tis true as we are royal, if you please for to accept of her.

Sophos.

'Tis an honor that I shall never merit, to spouse a Princes of her exellency; For I have nothing worthy her affection, She cannot give consent to love a man, That's bannisht from his Land and native soyl: I have no titles for to honor her, And that's a thing that women most affect.

Alcade.

Sir, you inherit vertue, that's a thing no mortal can restore, all other State we will invest you with, the crown of Thrace shall be your own, or cost ten thousand lives, our sable▪ Ensigns never yet before displayed beyond the Mediterean Sea, shall now be seen to fly, men have livers there pale as their faces, and when we appear, will frighted run from such a Golden soyl; our home-bred fear have end, foreign soes must be our conquest now.

Come my best Sophos, e're the next moon spring, My childe shall call thee husband, Thrace her King.

Tromp. Flor. Exeunt Omnes.

Finis Actus Tertii.

ACT. 4. SCENE. 1.

Enter Pheander in a Pilgrims habit alone reading the Oracle.

Phe

COntent shall keep in town and field, &c. I know not in what sence to apprehend it, So intricate this matter seems to me; Yet in these latter lines I read a comfort.

Read.

Then shall a shepherd from the plains, Restore your Health and Crown agen.

There is a sign of truth already past, for when Apollo did pro∣nounce this doom, I was a king, and did enjoy my Crown, and I must be deposed before restored. But then the man, I there's the doubt of all, for ever since I took this Pilgrims habit, I have wan∣dered up and down to finde this shepherd; wandered indeed, for in the search of him I have lost my self, fiting upon the plain, I saw a face of such surpassing beauty, that Jove and Nature should they both contend, to make a shape of their mixt purity, could not invent a sky-born form so beautiful as she, be she a mor∣tall, and a shepherdess, her beauty may become a Princes Court. Why may not I wedding this shepherds Queen, beget an heir that may restore my Crown? Ile lay my life the Oracle meant so, the stars from earthly humors gain their light, our humors from their lights possess their powers: but now the means for to obtain this prize, Ile send a private messenger to Court, to bid Pallatio with a well Armed-troop, at such a certain hour-to meet me here, and lie in secret ambush 'bout the house.

I will conceal my self, and watch a time, To bear away this Wonder of our Clime.

Stands aside.

Enter Ariadna and Titterus after her singing, &c.

Titter.

Oh stay, oh turn, oh pitty me, that sighs, that sues for love of thee, Oh lack I never loved before, if you deny, Ile nere love more. No hope no help, then wretched I, must loose, must lack, must pine, and die, Since you neglect when I implore,

Dance.

Farewel hard, Ile nere love more,

Enter Pallemon frantickly habited, dancing over the Stage, old An∣timon, antick-like, Clown-like maid Marian.

Tit.

Here's a sight gives a fresh wound unto my love-sick heart, to think a man that was reputed wise, should loose himself in a Dedalion maze, and run mad for a woman, woman that's the cause, it is indeed happy remembrance in searching out his wound, I have cured my self, shall I see my brother wits caught in a purse-net, and run my head into the same noose, then count

me for a Woodcock; no, I am now the man I was, and will stil say,

There is not any wise man, that fancy can a woman, Then never turn your eyes on a thing that is so common; For be they foul or fair, They tempting devils are, since they first fell, They that love do live in Hell, and therefore men beware.

Exit.

Ariad.

What a distraction's this? was ever seen so strange a dotage, not in him alone, but 'tis in general? that did not grief usurp too much upon a heart supprest, 'twere mirth would move to laughter.

Enter Eusanius like a Shepherd.

This is no Louse sure, I know him not, Yet I mistrust the hanging of his head, Ile note him further; 'tis a handsom fellow.

Eus.

This habit is most frequent in this place, Ile wear't for fashion sake, 'tmay be a means to gain a sight of the fair Shep∣herdess, whose beauty fills the Clime with wonderment.

Ariad.

Alas poor man, he's troubled too in minde, Would I could over-hear him: how he stands!

Eus.

I know not where to lye, and it grows late, I have not since I enter'd on these Plains, seen any creature that has humane sence. A woman first! good luck and be thy will.

Ariad.

Why kneel you, sir?

Eus.

Not to ask blessing, Sweet, That were a foul disgrace unto a Virgin.

Ariad.

For ought you know I am a Mother, sit.

Eus.

Would you were mine. Please you, Ile make you one.

Ariad.

I thank your love sir, but I am one already.

Eus.

Then my suit's at an end; yet one word more.

Ariad.

What is't, sit? I'm in haste.

Enter Radagon.

Eus.

No more but this, nay in your ears, lest you mis-construe me.

Rad.

So close and privately, then I perceive I have been too neglectful, shallow fool! that having had such opportunity, so long continuance, place, and privacy, durst never utter thy af∣fections. When I beheld her first I fancied her, and more because she favored my dead wife, whose memory I still mourn: but since

she's gone, rather then loose regeneration, I could wed with her; she's fair, and may be honest, though the world deem 'em Con∣trarieties: I'm seen, and must go on.

Ariad.

Menalchus! you come as wisht for: here's a stranger, Sir, that wants reposure, will you for my sake allow him enter∣tain; the night draws on, and 'twere unhospitable to deny him, you shall command as great a courtesie.

Rad.

I doubt it not. To me y' are welcome sir, such homely Cates as a poor Cottage yields, you shall be sure to taste. Shep∣herds in this comes nearest to the Gods; for they allow the smal∣lest hospitality, witness when Bawcis feasted Jupiter:

Ariad.

For that Ile interrupt you, you shall both before you part from hence, taste of our cheer. Whence is that aged man? pray question him, let him not go before he have relief.

Rad.

Come nearer, father, 'tis a great wonder to see a Pilgrim wander in these parts. What Countrey-man?

Phe.

A Roman, gentle sir, one that hath vowed in weary pil∣grimage, to spend the poor remainder of his days; to such you know all places are alike.

Eus.

How long have you continued in this Land?

Phe.

But a small time.

Eus.

You have not seen the Court?

Phe.

Not yet, fair sir.

Rad.

What should we do at Court? we have a King knows no Religion, heathens, infidels inhabit there; the poor live most secure, for as they know no good, they fear no ill: but we must not decipher. Come sit down.

Eus.

Fair Mistriss.

Ariad.

Good sir sit, this is my place. Menalchus seat you. Fie, fie, complement.

Ariad.

Here's no variety, but such as 'tis, if you can feed, y' are welcome, shepherds fare.

Eus.

We thank you.

Rad.

Sir, fall to, y' are sad methinks.

Phe.

Not sad, but somewhat griev'd to think report should scandalize so sweet a Continent, not onely Foreigners, but Thra∣cians born, hate and abhor the Clime and Government, saying, it is infectious, and your King a mis-believing Tyrant, infamous.

Ariad.

Where heard you this?

Phe.

All Thrace proclaims as much.

Rad.

I cannot tell: but trust me sir, 'tis thought it was a cruel deed, not like a King, much less a Father, having but one childe to banish her, and for so small a fault.

Eus.

What was the offence?

Rad.

A customary thing, I cannot well appropriate a name.

Ariad.

Is it so sleight? and do you shame to utter't?

Rad.

Your presence must excuse me, otherwise I should have found a Title.

Ariad.

Then Ile speak. It was so hainous, and so vilde a fact, the King could not in justice pardon it, 'twas a disgrace to him, shame to her Sex, dishonor to her self and Progeny. What grea∣ter infamy unto a King, than for to blot his name with bastardy?

Rad.

You speak well in the defence of Vertue, Sweet; but if such defaults should be so punisht, we should have but few wo∣men in our kingdom: Admit the Princess in her wanton blood committed such an error, do but think what frailty is, the baits, nay more, 'tis thought that they were man and wife; if it were so, he could be little better than a Tyrant.

Phe.

A Tyrant, nay á villain, murderer. Pray pardon me, I must and will have leave to speak my conscience, should I see the King, I'd tell him to his face he were a Tyrant. Say she did err, he was the cause on't, not suffering her to wed where she did love: What may his Subjects think, he being dead for want of Issue, they shall servile be to Turks and Infidels, if worse than he can any where be found?

Ari.

Dotard forbear, thou hast already spoke more than thy life can ever satisfie. If that the King had known they had bin married, questionless he would have been more merciful; but that rests in suspicion, his sentence was pronounc'd as they were guilty, not as man and wife, and then what punishment can be too great? his supposed ill was so much lenity, to live had been to die a lingring death, for reputation is the life of honor, and that once lost, the Mother hates the childe, curses the man she did commix withal, and like a shame-fac'd Felon, seeks to shun the face of every one that knows her guilt.

Phe.

Admiredst of all women, now I see There is much Vertue lives in poverty.

Eusa.

And yet methinks the mothers shame, is not to be com∣pared

unto the injury the child sustains; for she receives her sorrowes by consent, but the poor infant guiltless of the fact, grown to maturity, shall bear the brand of Bastard by his birth, be dispossest of all inheritance due to the Seed that's sowen in holy wedlock; if a curse belong unto the issue of base lusts, 'tis given to the childe for to bestow on those that did beget him, sure I think who e're he was that wronged so fair a Dame, as your Kings Daughter, could be no true Prince, but some base upstart that deluded her, under a fained title.

Radag.

Slave thou lyest.

Radagon strikes him with his hook, she holds Eus. Phe. Radagon.

Ariad.

Had you e're a Mother sir?

Eusa.

I cannot tell. Unhand me.

Ariad.

For my sake,

Pheand. whispers with Rodag.

or if there be a woman in the world whom you affect, in her name I conjure ye let my tears asswage your just moved anger, it will discredit me, endanger you, if you should strike him here, Ile give you reason.

Radag.

This is some fallery, it cannot be.

P••••.

Now by my holy vow what I prescribe I will approve, I know you love this woman, the revelation of Celestial Orbs, the Aspects and influence of heavenly planets do direct my skill, by Palmestry and Phisiognomy. I have declared to kings accidents past, portents to come, and told to what event present designs should run, what should I make experiments of Art on him that not believes it?

Rad.

Troth I do.

Phe.

Then reconcile your self unto this man, let him by no means use to visit her, for in the hour of his nativity, some powerful working star was in conjunction with too forward Venus, take him from her, and all th' Auxillary heavenly helps, that may give Physick to a Love-sick heart, Ile invocate to be benevolent, and e're too morrow sun, she shall be yours.

Ariad.

See sir, he comes towards you.

Radag.

Sir, for my rash offence I'm sorry.

Ariad.

What would ye more good sir?

Radag.

If you desire a further satisfaction, you shall have it.

Eus.

How?

Radag.

Thus.

Eus.

'Tis accepted.

Phe.

This device took well. Now to my plot.

Exit. Phe.

Ariad.

I fear you are not friends yet.

Radag.

Who not we, why should you think so? look you, we imbrace, shake hands, nay more, we will be bed-fellows, and early in the morn revisit you.

Ariad.

Where lies the palmer? Gone, and take no leave.

Radag.

Oh fear not him, he is provided for. Come sir, take leave and part.

Exeunt they two.

Ariad.

Good rest to both, there is a fire kindled in my breast, I have not felt a flame this twenty years, betwixt these two, I stand in a delemma, not knowing which to fancy or forsake, so equal my heart doth stand affected.

Enter Pheander agen, and two Lords in ambush.

Phe.

That's she, Ile not be seen.

Ariad.

I am resolved, since from them both I am free'd thus, Ile conclude he that first speaks shall speed.

1 Lord.

That's I.

2 Lord.

I.

Ariad.

Help, help.

1 Lord.

It is in vain to call.

Ariad.

Oh would this hour might be my Funeral.

Exeunt.

Enter Antimon and Clown, Antimon brave, antickly atired in brave Clothes.

Ant.

A Glass, a glass, a glass, Ile trust my face no more in the fair water, 'tis not bright enough to show me in my smugness, reach a glass.

Clo.

A Looking-glass?

Ant

A Looking-glass I say.

Clo.

You shall sir presently, there's one stands under my bed.

Ant.

Why that's a Jorden, fool.

Clo.

So much the better father, 'tis but making water in't, and then you may behold your sweet Phisnomy in the cleer streams of the river Jordan.

Ant.

I smell 'twill be a match.

Clo.

If you smell a match, take heed of your nose, for a little thing will set it a fire.

Ant.

How sits my suit? is it not spruce and neat?

Clo.

A most impertinent suit, I assure you.

Ant.

She cannot chuse but love me now, I'm sure old Meno∣phon nere courted in such clothes, were it not best I should leave off some part of this my bravery, lest appearing suddenly in this bright splendor, the wenches overcome, and ravisht with my sight, fall at dissention, and so go bi'th ears about me.

Clo.

'Twas well remembred, that in any case look you put off some of those glittering Weeds, until you see your Mistriss, all the Maids will be stark mad to see you; do but mark when they behold you, how they'l fight for you, you'l hardly scape their fin∣gers I'm afraid.

Ant.

I, sayest thou so? here do thou wear 'em then, And give 'em me when Mariana comes.

Clo.

Yes marry will I, if you can, overtake me, Ile court her first my self. Father, farewel.

Ant.

Nay, but.

Clo.

I shoot at no such Butts. Father, farewel.

Ant.

Oh villain, slave, I have sold half my Flocks. To buy these Clothes, and now am cheated.

Enter Titterus and Serena.

See if the Rogue has not sent company to laugh at me: if Titte∣rus should see me in this shape, he would make a Ballad on't. Ile after him, and if I catch the Rascal, Ile say nothing.

Exit Ant.

Tit.

Yet Beauty of these fields be less obdure, And stay his laboring brains of that great toyl In which it travels for thee.

Seren.

Love a mad-man?

Tit.

If he be mad, 'tis you have made him so. Can you not fancy your own workmanship? Will you not cure him whom you helpt to kill?

Serena.

Were his hurts made in the body, I have helping herbs and such choice simples, as should cure his wounds; no shepher∣dess knows better than my self how to restore him.

But where that Herb or Science can ye finde, That hath the vertue to restore the minde?

Tit.

Minde; he minded you too much, the more fool he, That man's mad that mindes any of you all; For you are, let me see, Foolish, idle toys. that Nature gave unto us, But to curb our joys, and onely to undo us; For since Lucretias fall, there are none chaste at all: Or if perchance there be, one in an Empory, Some other malady makes her far worse than she. Out upon ye all.

'I were too much to tell the follies that attend ye, He must love you well that can but discommend ye; For your deserts are such, man cannot rayl too much: Nor is the world so blinde, but it may eas'ly finde, The body or minde tainted in woman kinde. Oh, the devil take you all.

Ser.

Have you now done?

Tit.

Done? 'Sfoot, if I could finde words enough, and bad enough, I'd rail at you all till tomorrow morning.

Ser.

If ye should, Ile have the last word. I have been silent yet, vex me no more: For if I once begin, Ile make thee mad too, And send thy Wits a wool-gathering, After thy brothers.

Enter Radagon and Eusanius.

Tit.

What the devil are these women made of? Do not think I would surcease my suit, But for this interruption.

Rad.

Is there no valley, nor no mountains top Free from these Clamors? You see we are intercepted: But for these, this should have been the place.

Eus.

Let's watch a fitter time, and spie a place of more con∣veniency.

Rad.

'Tis agreed: All friends.

Eus.

Till then.

Rad.

Think you I meant otherwise?

Eus.

No.

Rad.

Well then.

Enter Antimon running after the Clown.

Clo.

Oh father, well overtaken.

Ant.

'Tis well you are return'd sir, I was coming, I was e'en coming for you? How now, what are these?

Rad.

Receive this stranger to your fellowship, A partner and a brother, that desires a life retired And if my genius prompts me not amiss, He will deserve our Loves.

Tit.

However sir, to me he's welcome, Chiefly for your sake my love I tender.

Rad.

Pray know this man, this is the jovailest shepherd in all Thrace.

Eus.

His Aspect speaks for him. Sir, I desire to be known

Better to you, and you fair Dame, whose beauty adds more Lustre to these fields, then all that summer Flora can produce.

Ser.

And these plains much honored by your presence.

Ant.

Receive a welcome too of Antimon.

Clo.

And I his son Sir, welcome good partner; Nay good sir, I crave less of your courtesie, And more of your acquaintance.

Ant.

Since we are met by chance so luckily, Let us proceed unto our countries pastimes, To give this courteous stranger entertain.

Clo.

I, good father, Let's not loose our sports in any case:

Ser.

Whom shall we crave to call upon the Queen.

Rad.

That office shall be mine, stay my return: Now if the Palmer do but keep his word, I shall enjoy what I so long have wisht.

Enter a Shepherd wounded, running.

Ha, what sad object's this? How camest thou wounded?

Clo.

Sure some sheep has bit him.

Rad.

Speak how camest thou hurt?

Shep.

In rescue of our Queen, basely surprized.

Rad.

Surprized? by whom?

Shep.

By Thrace his King, who Pilgrim-like wrapt in a russet weed, taking advantage when she was alone, has with a private ambush, stole her hence.

Rad.

To the Court-gates let us pursue the Ravisher, his Court and all the powers that he can raise, shall not protect him. Plague upon his craft: Is this his skill in Physiognomy? Worthy friend, let me but call you so, and let our strife be buried in our loves: The Cause removed, let the effect thus die: and as our hands, so let our hearts unite to take revenge on this injurious king.

Eus.

Sir, what is yet scarce man, my heart shall ripen, Ile stretch beyond my years and power of strength, But Ile assist you in this enterprize:

Tit.

Let's muster all the shepherds to our aid, And fetch her back per force.

Rad.

In the mean time, be it your charge to cure this Wounded Swain, that sought to rescue her.

Ser.

Ile use my best of skill.

Ant.

Old as I am, Ile go along, and let my Mistriss know, The King of Thrace makes Antimon his foe.

Clown.

If I light on him handsomly, Ile have a bout with him at Quarter-staff.

Tit.

One thing let me intreat, to draw my frantick brother to the field, inform him 'tis Serena is stoln hence, to prove if either terror of the Wars, his Mistriss loss, or sight of death and blood, can win him to his wits.

Rad.

Perswaded well.

Clown.

What's he will take that charge? Marry that will I, let me alone with him, Ile put it in his pate, I cannot say his brains, Because he has none: Ile fetch him presently.

Exit.

Rad.

Whom shall we make our General, and Leader of this Rabble?

Tit.

Who but your self shall we impose so great a Charge upon?

Rad.

Rather bestow it on this noble youth.

Eus.

That warlike Charge would not become my years, I shall be proud to be your Soldier, sir.

Enter Pallemon and Clown.

Pal.

Give me my Arms, Ile fetch her back agen.

Clown.

Give you more Legs, you'l ne're o'retake her else.

Pal.

Ile leap into the Saddle of the Moon, And tye two Stars unto my heels, like Spurs; Ile make my warlike Lance of a Sun-beam, And mounted on some strange Bucephalus, Thus will I overthrow my Enemy.

Clown.

This 'tis to keep mad-men company, that has not the wit to know his friends from his foes; but we shall have your brains beat in agen.

Pal.

Sirrah, take the Moon, and place it me upon the Axle∣tree, Ile mount on horse-back streight.

Clown.

The Moon's not up yet, sir, some three hours hence you shall be sure to have her.

Pal.

How know you that, sir?

Clown.

Well enough sir, 'tis a shepherd that keeps her,

And he's called The Man in the Moon.

Pal.

Ile fetch a sheep-skin then to make a Drum, Ta, ra, ranta, ra, tan, tara, ran tan.

Exit.

Rad.

He has possest him well, let him go on. Now courage, Fellow-soldiers, and let's trye To fetch her back, or in her quarrel die.

Exeunt.

Tromp. Flor. Enter Pheander, Lords, Drums, Colours, and Soldiers.

Phe.

Is't possible the number of the Swains Should be so many?

2 Lord.

Full five hundred strong.

Phe.

What's their pretence?

1 Lord.

That's yet unknown, my Lord, unless it be to have their Queen agen.

Phe.

How should they know 'twas we that stole her thence?

1 Lord.

Belike the Swains that sought to rescue her, heard some one name the King; no other cause could give intelligence, 'twas done so private.

Phe.

What should we fear? Let's meet 'em in the field, Were their Force trebled o're, when we appear They'l flie like Hares that fear the Lions frowns. How might we do for to behold the Rebels?

1 Lord.

They lye so low intrencht beyond the hill that fronts the Castle-gate, that no Prospect about the house can yield the least survey.

Phe.

Let's Parley with 'em then, so we may hear what they pretend, and view their Regiment.

2 Lord.

Here is a Herald to the same effect arriv'd at Court.

Phe.

Go, bring him in, we'l hear what brave Defiance they have sent.

Enter old Antimon with a piece of painted Cloth, like a Heralds Coat, Clown sounding a Tucket before him.

Now sir, the Prologue to this bloody Tragedy.

Ant.

I am a Herald, come to tell the King, That he has done a most mischievous thing: We had but one fair Ewe amongst our Lambs, And he has stoln her, with his wolvish Rams; For which our Shepherds vow by force of Arms,

To fetch her back, kill all, but do no harm: But if you'l set her free, they bid me say, They'l take her home, and so make Holiday.

Omnes Lords.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Ant.

It seems they are not angry at my words, because they laugh, I fear'd they'd draw their swords.

Phe.

Tell 'em we render thanks for their good mirth, And would entreat a Parley, if they'l come And meet us here under the Castle-wall.

Ant.

You would intreat 'em fairly for to come?

Phe.

I thought as much. Go you along with him, and tell their General what you heard us say.

2 Lord.

I shall. Come, show me to your General.

Exeunt.

1 Lord.

Will you in person parley with the Rout?

Phe.

Why not?

1 Lord.

'Tis dangerous, for fear the Swains, Not knowing what belongs to Law of Arms, Being once cross'd, should offer violence.

Phe.

'Tis well advised: Pastatio bid our Guard Be near our person, bring up all our Troops Close to the Gates, that if occasion serve, They may at unawares make issue forth, And cut off all the Reár. See it performed, I have a trick new crept into my brain, And if my Policy deceive me not,

A march within.

Shall bring these several bodies to one head, And crown all my Designs with full event. They'r coming, keep your Ranks.

Enter all the Shepherds, Radagon, Eusanius, Titterus, Pallemon, Clown, Antimon.

Phe.

Which is the General?

Omnes.

This.

Phe.

We would exchange some private words with him.

Radag.

You are deceiv'd; I better understand The Name and Honor of a General, Than to disgrace it 'gainst the Law of Arms; Though we are not so expert as those men That daily practice 'em, yet you shall finde We'l make a shift to right our injuries.

Phe.

'S death! where learnt he this Discipline? Are Shepherds now become such Martialists? I see I must dissemble.

Radag.

If you have ought to say, speak publickl No private Protestations, Bribes, nor Fears, Have power to convert our Resolutions. We need not to capitulate our Wrongs, They are too apparent. Let us see our Queen, And if she have received the smallest wrong, A general ruine shall o're-spread the Land; We'l fire thy Castles, burn up all thy Towns, And make a Desolation of thy people:

Phe.

You cannot be so shallow, as to think I took her with a lustful appetite? This honored Badge proclaims that lust is past. Our seizing her was motive to your good, if you conceive it. List, and Ile explain it: Within our Land our foes are resi∣dent, Scicilla's King, under whose Government these many years you have been Servitors. The reason this: When he did first in∣vade, we found our self too weak to make resistance, and under show of satisfaction we did resign to him our Dignity, pretending search of Radagon his son; which he accepted, and did back return to Scicillia, leaving Deputy to Govern here. And though Pallatio bore the name of Rule, it was by his per∣mission. Do but weigh the servile yoke of foreign Govern∣ment, what danger may ensue, what priviledge you loose in Thrace, if we be dispossest, the time of Truce expired, and he's returned to take possession? For without his son, our Crown and Kingdom both are forfeited into his hands; which yet we may prevent, if you'l agree to joyn your Force with ours, and back expulse him. We'l not onely grant your Queen her liberty, but we'l enlarge your former Priviledge; give you choice of State, Honor, and Dignity, make you Lords and Knights, and in remembrance of the Shepherds Wars, adde a new Festival; which at your charge shall yearly be performed. Consider on't.

Rad.

Happy Position! thanks great Justicer, Occasion puts revenge into my hand, To think that I should be so fortunate,

To be Commander of a Band of men, To war against my father, blest Event.

Phe.

What's your reply?

Clown.

Good General, consent, I have a foolish desire to be a Lord.

Phe.

And what shall I be?

Clown.

You shall be a Lord too, and if you'l be quiet, There are a great many mad Lords.

Phe.

What answer do you give?

Rad.

Were it in me To give an answer, you should soon prevail, But 'tis a General voice; for my own part My service, and my self I offer to you.

Eus.

And so do I.

Tit.

And I.

Omnes.

So do we all.

Phe.

A King that's thus held up can never fall. Draw all your force within the Castle Walls, 'Tis large and spacious, and will well contain 'um. This night we'l feast, to morrow shall be seen Your loves to us.

Rad.

Ours to the shepherds Queen.

Exeunt omnes.

Finis Actus quartii.

ACT. 5. SCENE. 1.

Drum and Colours.

Enter Scicillia, Lords, and Soldiers.

Scicil.

IS all our Army in a readiness, prepared for battel if occasion serve?

2 Lord.

They are, my Lord.

Scicil.

This day our truce takes end, the king returned, And we expect our Sons delivery.

1 Lord.

Pray heaven it be so happy, but I fear A worse intent, for all the way he comes The Commons rise, shepherds and silly Swains That never were inur'd to carry swords,

Take A rms and follow him.

Scicil.

What's that to us? Did he not make a vow ne're to return, Until he found my Son? may be he comes For to invest us King, and offer sacrifice Unto the Gods, and so conclude this weary Pilgrimage.

1 Lord.

You speak, my Liege, as you your self would do, But he that dar'd to banish 'em, Think you he fears to violate an oath? 'Tis ill to trust a reconciled foe, Be still in readiness, you do not know How soon he may assault us.

Scicil.

Thou speakest but well, 'tis good to doubt the worst, We may in our belief be too secure; As King's forbidden to condemn the just, So Kings for safety must not blame mistrust.

Enter 2 Lord.

Why is this haste? To bid you haste to Arms, The foe comes on, the Centinels fall off, The Scouts are posting up and down the Plain, To fetch in all the straglers. Thraces King Has break his vow, and seeks by force of Arms For to expulse you.

1 Lord.

Will ye yet give credit To a Tyrants oath?

Scicil.

By you bright Sphere I vow, and if there be A greater punishment for perjury Raigning on earth, then is the conscience sting, I will inflict it on this perjured man. You spirits resolute 'gainst fear and death, You that have hither to maintained your being In equal power, like Rivals to the Gods, Now show your Valor, let us not debate Our wrongs like women; for the wrath of Kings Is like an angry Cloud, swoln big with fire, Soft charge. that speaks revenge in thunder; hark they charge. Beat a defiance See, the signal's given, Who dies in this just cause, shall live in heaven.

Allarum.

The shepherds give the first assault, and beat off some of the Scicillian Lords.

Enter Eusanius driving over Scicilla. Enter Radagon.

Rad.

The fury of this Boy will overthrow All my Designs; twice since the Fight begun, In spight of my best A••t, he has unhors'd My Royal Father, and the last Career Drew blood from his shrunk veins, yet the good old man, Like to an aged Oak that long hath stood, Endangers all that seeks to cut him down; He does not bear that fearful Policy, That many use to fight in base disguise, But has a White Flag carried before him, Which does signifie the justice of his Cause, is innocence; Or as a mark, as if a man should say, I am the Butt you aim at, shoot at me. The greatest Conquest I have won this day, Hath been the preservation of his Life, With hazard of mine own: In my pursuit, Thinking to place him in his Court of Guard, I followed him so far, that I was forced To make retire, for to recover breath.

Enter Eusanius with Scicillia prisoner.

Eus.

Why do you sound a Retreat? the Day is ours, See, here's their King, I knew him by his Ensign, Which I seized in spight of all opposed. Here General, to your hands I do commit him. Carry Thraces King this as a ransom for the Shepherds Queen.

Soft Allarum.

Hark, the fight renews, one hour more makes a full Conquest, and Ile ne're give o're till it be finisht.

Exit.

Rad.

But that no fame or credit can be got to conquer Age, I'd scorn for to present anothers prisoner.

Scicil.

Aged as I am, had I a sword I'd scorn as much to be subdued by thee.

Rad.

That shall be tried. Here, take your Arms agen.

Scicil.

Art thou in earnest then? Come on ifaith. How now?

What means this, wilt thou not fight with me?

Rad.

Yes sir, that I will, with you Ile fight, But never fight against you. See the man That thrice this day preserved you from your foe, And the last time I bore you off from death, I that man am now your Champion, do not question why? But rest assur'd, for you Ile live and die.

Exeunt.

Allarum, and the Shepherds within crying, flie, flie, &c. Enter Eusanius, and all the Shepherds.

Eus.

What Coward's that began this fearful cry? Is not the day likely to be our own? Have I not taken their King Prisoner, seized his white Flag, and by our Generals hand sent him unto Pheander?

Tit.

But he's revolted, and has set him free, And we have ne're a General to lead us.

Eus.

Oh Villain, Traitor, Coward, were he my father I should call him so: flie from his Colours. Courage, fellow Swains, let us not blot the Honor we have won. Want of a General, Ile supply that place, rather than loose so fair a Victory.

Pall.

No, Ile be General.

Clown.

I, I, and so you shall, and Ile be Commander over you. We should be led like Wilde-geese then ifaith: Wilde-geese, nay Woodcocks rather; for your Wilde-geese keep their Wings, their Front, their Rear, and have a Leader too.

Tit.

I, I, you are the man.

Eus.

Follow then, come.

Exeunt.

A great Allarum. Enter Radagon.

Rad.

Sound a Retreat, it is impossible to win the day,

These Shepherds fight like devils: I saw a man born on our Lan∣ces points quite from the earth, yet when he came to ground he fought agen, as if his strength had bin invincible.

A shout and Flor.

Hark how the proud foe with triumphant voice

Proclaims unto the world her Victory.

Enter 2 Scicillian Lord.

2 Lord.

Hark how Scicillia with triumphant voice Proclaims unto the world his Victory.

Rad.

Scicillia?

2 Lord.

I, Scicillia. Sophos, brother to the Thracian King, is with Alcade King of the Affricans, come to assist you.

Rad.

Give 'em entertain with all the Royal Pomp our State can yield.

2 Lord.

He shall have Soldiers welcome, that's the best.

Tromp. Flor. Enter one way Scicillia and Lords. Another, Alcade, Sophos, Lilla Guida, Drums and Colours.

Scicil.

To give a Welcome fitting to the State of Affrick's King, Sophos, and this fair Dame, whose Beauty all the Western World admires, were to neglect a greater happiness; for by your aid fair Victory sits crowned, pluming her golden wings up∣on our Crest, let us not beat her back by detraction.

Alcade.

Royal Sir, we come to fight, and not to feast; yet for this might we will repose our selves, our Troops are weary, and our beatuous Childe rests undisposed of; Let her have a Guard of Demi Negros, called from either part, and let her Lodgings be place next our own, that's all we do desire.

Scicil.

Which wee'l perform.

Sophos.

Let the Retreat we heard at our approach, call back your powers, and early in the morn when as the daring enemy comes on; thinking to prey upon a yielding foe.

Tromp. Flor.

Our forces shall confound 'em, Thrace shall know Retreat. Sophos is here, come to perform his vow.

Exeunt.

Enter Pallemon wounded, Titterus, and Clown:

Pal.

Upon 'em, upon 'em, upon 'em, they fly, they fly, they fly.

Clown.

I, I, they run away.

Titter.

I am glad they are retreated, had they stood, his lack of sence had bin his loss of life, how e're he scapes it yet, come now retire.

Pal.

Ile have my Love first.

Clown.

So ho, ho boys.

Pal.

What noise is that? are you a fouler, sir?

Clown.

I know what belongs to a retreat sir, I was the first man took flight, and lured off the rest aswell as I could.

Pal.

Then y are an Engineer?

Tit.

An admirable fellow Pallemon, hold him in talk whilest I run for Cerena, and use my best perswasions to procure her gen∣tle patience, his deep wounds to cure.

Pal.

Come then grave Nestor to the Councel Table, nay, you shall see that I can speak to you.

Clown.

And you shall hear that I can answer you.

Pal.

You say you are a Faulconer?

Clown.

Or a Fowler, which you please.

Pal.

What think you, Nestor, if we limed our Pikes, as you your Twigs, and set 'em in the way just as the Army flies? Do you not think they would hang fast by the wings?

Clown.

Yes, if they do not leave their wings behinde 'em, And flie away with their legs.

Pal.

May they do so?

Clown.

Faith I sir, 't has been the Cowards fashion time out of minde.

Pal.

Or Father, shall's cast into the Air a gorgeless Faulcon, that mounting the bleak Region, till she spie my beautuous Love Serena, then souze down, and snatch her from the Army. Joves bird the Eagle, in her Talons bore his Darling Ganimed to his pa∣lace so. Speak Nestor, is it possible or no?

Clown.

Very easie sir, if women be made of such light Stuff, as they say they are; besides, no Faulcon but dares venter upon a Ring-tale, and what's a woman else?

Pal.

Then as stern Pirrhus did old Priam take, or stay, As cruel Nero with his Mother did, Ile rip thy bowels out, then fling thee Like a gorgeless Faulcon in the Air; But first Ile tye these bells unto thy legs, That I may know which way to follow thee.

Clown.

Nay, and you begin to meddle with my legs, Ile show you as fair a pair of heels, As e're you saw in your life.

Pal.

Nay, flie me not, my fair Angelica.

Clown.

Put up thy Bilbow then, my mad Orlando.

Pal.

Thy hand shall be the scabberd, there it is: I yield me to thy mercy, Alexander; Yet save my life, great Caesar.

Enter Titterus and Serena.

Clown.

As we are Alexander, we will save thy life. Come sit at Caesars feet. So, so, now Ile Deal well enough with you.

Tit.

Prithee have more remorse, if not for Love, For love of Life, help to redress his wounds;

Remember 'tis for you he came thus hurt, Take pity on his smart.

Seren.

Had I like power to restore his sence, as to re-cure his wounds, upon the earth I would leave no means unthought, un∣sought for, but I'd apply't for his Recovery.

Tit.

This is the tyranny we men endure, Women can make us mad, but none can cure.

Seren.

Oh may I prove the first, upon my knees, If ever a poor Virgins Prayers were heard, Grant the fruition of my suit may prove A saving health both to his Life and Love.

Tit.

Nay, and you go about it with such willingness, 'Twill come to a good end sure: The whilest you dress his wounds, Ile sit and sing, And invocate the Gods to pity him.

Sings.

Fair Apollo, whose bright beams Cheers all the world below: The Birds that sing, the Plants that spring, The Hearbs and Flowers that grow. Oh lend thy aid to a Swain sore oppressed, That his minde soon may finde the delight that sence admits; And by a Maid let his harms be redressed, That no pain do remain in his minde to offend his wits.

Seren.

His blood returns, rub his Pulses o're the fire, His Looks prescribe an Alteration.

Clown.

Would I could hear him speak a wise word once.

Pal.

Either the earth, or else my head turns round.

Tit.

Lass, my poor brother.

Seren.

Peace, disturb him not.

Pal.

And yet methinks I do not feel such pains as I was wont to endure. Ha, sure I should know! Speak, are not you my Love?

Tit.

He knows her, I, 'tis she.

Pal.

And you my brother?

Tit.

True.

Clown.

And what am I?

Pal.

A fool.

Clown.

But you are no mad-man now? I'm sure. He that can distinguish a fool from a woman, is a wise man believe it.

Seren.

Pallemon see, since it hath pleased the Gods, in pity of

thy youth, to grant thysence, Serena grants her love, and at thy feet craves pardon for her cruel injury.

Pal.

More welcome now then ever, my Serena. Love that is often cross'd, at length obtained, Is sweeter far than pleasure eas'ly gained.

Tit.

But what shall I do now? I'm gone in the Common-law, and if a Jury of women go upon me, I'm sure to be cast. I think I had best to appeal to the men first, and make them my Arbi∣trators.

Clown.

Oh no, no, no, make your peace with the women first, what e're you do; for if they take the matter in hand, your men are ne're able to stand long in a Case against them.

Tit.

Then first to you whom I have wrong'd so much, And next, to all that's here.

Sings.

Forgive me, oh forgive me my cruel disdain, Never poor Lover endured such pain, As I will in my skill, your praises to tell, And never sing other, till death rings my Knell. Therefore no man hate a woman, for now you may prove It lyes in their powers to restore Life and Love. Therefore no man hate a woman, for now you may prove It lyes in their power to restore Life and Love.

Exeunt.

A great Allarum and Excursions, then enter Eusanius and Shep∣herds, with Alcade, Sophos, and White moor, prisoners.

Eus.

The honor of thy overthrow, brave Moor, is due to great Pheander King of Thrace; but thy Crowns ransom does belong to me.

Alcad.

Take Life and all, it is not worth the keeping, Without Addition of a Victory. To be a Peasants prisoner! Cursed Fate! Why should a King be so unfortunate?

Sophos.

Unhappy chance! Came I to Thrace for this, to loose both Life and Honor in the Land that gave me Life? and by a Brother too? Black destiny!

Eus.

Some poste unto Phe∣ander; and glad his ears with this our Victory.

Enter 1 Th. Lord.

Why come ye on so slowly? renew the fight, our King is taken prisoner by that slave, that by his falling off lost

the last Battel.

Eus.

Pheander taken?

Alcade

That's some comfort yet, I hope Scicillia will not ran∣som him, till he consent unto our Liberty.

Soph.

And if he should, he were unworthy to be term'd a King.

Eus

Why then let's summon 'em unto a Parley, First offer to exchange our Prisoners,

A Parley.

And then begin the bloody Fight agen.

1 Lord.

Summon a Parley then.

Enter Scicillia, Lords, with Pheander prisoner.

Look here Scicillia, since by chance of war our Thracian King is taken prisoner, to ransom him we will deliver back into your hands the great Alcade, Sophos, and this White moor.

Phe.

Three prisoners for one, detain 'em still, Ile not be ran∣som'd at so dear a rate.

Alcade

And if thou shouldst, I scorn it should be so; For look what Ransom Scicillia sets down, Ile pay it trebly o're to ransom us.

Scicil.

We'l take no Ransom, but will set you free by force of Arms.

Eus.

Bear back the prisoners, and renew the Fight.

Rad.

Stay, darest thou that seemest so forward, hand to hand, in single opposition end this Strife?

Eus.

Oh were these Kings but pleased it should be so, How soon would we decide this difference?

Scicil.

What says Alcade? if he be so content, Ile gladly put my Right upon his sword.

Phe.

The like will I upon my Champion, whose unmatcht va∣lor has been well approved.

Alcade.

I like his fair Aspect, and give consent. Mayest thou prove happy in this Enterprize.

Rad.

Ile loose my life, or gain your liberty.

Eus.

The like will I, or set Pheander free.

Exeunt.

Phe.

Then till the Champions be in readiness, let the Condi∣tions be concluded on. Pallatio, draw the Articles for us.

Cicil.

And you for us, if we be overcome, Pheander is to have his liberty, and we depart this land, resigning back all interest due by his permission, and never seek revenge for our lost Son: this as we are Royal, we'l consent unto.

Alcad.

If Thrace be overcome, he shall surrender all his dig∣nity

into our hands, which Sophos shall enjoy which our fair daughter, paying Cicilly a yearly tribute; and your Soldiers pay since their abode in Thrace, shall be discharged from our Ex∣checquer.

Phe.

This Ile add besides, because by us Cicillia lost a Sor, who ever shall enjoy the Crown of Thrace shall once a year, clad in his pilgrims weeds, offer sacrifice unto the Gods, and lay his Crown down at Cicillias feet.

Soph.

And Sophos vows to offer up his life, A ransom for this beautuous Affrican, If we be vanquisht by our enemy.

Scicil.

There's Scicillias hand.

Phe.

And mine.

Alcad.

There Alcade.

Lil.

And mine?

Sop.

And Sophos joyned in one.

1 Thr. Lord.

A happy end crown this Contention.

Pal.

Beseech your Graces, since this difference is to be ended by a shepherds hand, to let our Queen be set at liberty, to see the Champion that must fight for her.

Phe.

Go fetch her forth: And now I call to minde the Oracle, that said a shepherd should restore my Crown; sure one of these will prove that happy man.

Cicil.

The Trumpet sounds agen, let's take our seats, and see who shall obtain the victory.

Phe.

Nay altogether now, till the last stroke make a division.

Enter Ariadne brought in by shepherds.

Oh the shepherds Queen!

Alcad.

A lovely Dame! sit by our Daughters side.

Tuckets.

The Combatants will take encouragement from your fair eyes: hark, now they come.

Enter Radagon brought in by the Cicilsian Lords, Eusanius by the shepherds, with shields pictured with Neptune riding upon the Waves.

Clown.

Now Boy, thrust home, 'tis for a Lady.

Pal.

Courage fellow Swain.

1 Lord,

The Champions are prepared, sound to the fight:

Rad.

I for my King.

Eus.

I for my Countries right fight.

2 Lord.

So, recover breath.

Phe.

What means that strange Device upon their shields? 'tis something sure concerns the Oracle, God Neptune riding on the Waves o'th Sea, Ile question them to know the meaning on't.

Eus.

Come Sir.

Alcad.

What meanes the King of Thrace?

Phe.

To ask a question e're they fight agen.

Alcad.

Then speak aloud, we'l have no whispering.

Phe.

I prithee tell me, 'tis to thee I speak: what hainous wrongs hast thou received from us, or good from these, that thou alone shouldst prove the chiefest Champion for our Enemy?

Rad.

So psease these Kings vouchsafe me audience, I shall tell you.

Both.

Speak freely.

Rad.

In brief Pheander, I am nor subject unto him, nor you, more then the duty of a Son allowes, tho this rude transmigration of my hair, barres me your knowledge, with the change of time, yet here behold the banisht Radagon.

Cicil.

My Son?

Ariad.

My husband?

Phe.

Shame and my Joy so struggle in my breast, I shall dis∣solve to air: Oh my dear childe!

Rad.

Can it be possible that we should live so long together, and not know each other?

Ariad.

I knew Menalchus, but not Radagon.

Rad.

I Mariana, not my beautuous wife: But what's become of my Eusanius, had I my childe agen, my Joy were full.

Ariad.

Alas I lost him fourteen years ago, keeping my flocks upon the plain of Thrace.

Rad.

This greater tide of Joy overcomes the less, and will not suffer me as yet to mourn.

Soph.

Pray speak those Words agen, where did you loose him? on the Plains of Thrace?

Ariad.

Indeed I did, just fourteen years ago.

Soph.

The time, the place, how habited, and then.

Ariad.

In a small coat made of a Panthers skin, a Garland on his head, and in his hand a hook made of a Cane.

Soph.

The very same, the time, the place, the habit, all things just as you describe to me; that childe, I being banisht from my native soyl, found sporting in the Plains, and that's the childe I carried with me into Affrica.

Alcad.

Was that the childe you brought into the Court? wha adverse fate had I to banish him?

Lil.

Far worser fate had I to loose my love.

Eus.

That childe, so found so lost, Brought up in Affrica, and banisht thence, Should be my self.

Lil.

Eusanius? I'tis he.

Ariad.

Oh my deer childe.

Eus.

Are you my Mother? This my father then?

Phe.

Is this my Warlicke Grand-childe?

Alcad.

What wonder's this?

Phe.

Now is the Oracle confirm'd at full. Here is the Wonder being wrackt at sea, Which Neptune from his Waves cast up agen. These are the Lions that did guide the Lambs, Living as Shepherds, being Princes born. And these the Seas, whose-equal valor neither Ebbs nor Tides, But makes a stand, striving for Victory; Their shields proclaim as much, whose Figure is Neptune commanding of the rugged Waves. And this the happy Shepherd from the Plain, Whose sight restores me all my joys agen.

Scicil.

Radagon, thou shalt wear Scicillia's Crown.

Phe.

Pheanders too, which is too small a satisfaction for the great wrongs he hath sustained by us.

Rad.

Do not impose more Cares upon my head, Until my joys be fully finished. Good Father keep your Crown, and govern still, And let me frolick with my beautuous Bride: And for Pheanders Crown, let me intreat My Uncle Sophos, Partner in our Wars, May, if he survive, be King of Thrace.

Phe.

With all my heart; and for these harmless Shepherds, Whose loves have bin Co-partners in our wars, once every year They shall be seasted in our Roy••l Palace, And still this day be kept as Holiday In the remembrance of the Shepherds Queen.

Alcad.

'T would ask an Age of Time to explicate all our de∣lights. Eusanius, take our Childe, with her our Royal Crown of Affrica. Thy pardon Sophos, for we promis'd thee.

Sophos.

I willingly resign my interest, Sir.

Phe.

One forty days we'l hold a Festival Within the Court of Thrace before we part. When was there such a Wonder ever seen? Forty years banisht, and live still a QUEEN!

Exeunt.

FINIS.