Love and honour written by W. Davenant, Knight.

Act. 4. Scaena. 1.

Enter Calladine (in a night Gowne,) and a Servant.

Cal.

A Lady sayst thou in a mourning Vest? What should this earely visit meane, ere yet By full appearance of the Sun we can Distinguish day from night?

Ser.

Sir, she importunes much to speak with you, Saies her affaire asks secrecy and haste.

Cal.

Retire a while without, and let her in.

Exit Ser.

Enter Melora (in mourning) she un∣vailes,

Since first my eyes had judgement to di∣scerne A meane from excellence, they nere beheld A beauty so ore coming and exact; What are the lov'd commands you'ld lay on me? I not remember that I ever saw A face I would more willingly obey; If it were civill too I'ld aske your name.

Mel.

Beleeve me gentle Sir when that is known You'l think me too unfortunate to live; I am call'd Evandra.

Cal.

Ha! the Princesse? wisely did Prospero Preserve thee from my sight, thy beauty is Too great and dangerous for youth to know And be secure; though I nere saw her till This blessed houre, yet Fame assisted me T'imagine an Idea like her selfe; But why have you forsaken your conceal'd Aboad, and thus adventure into th'view Of men? I feare it is not safe.

Mel.

'Tis to employ your vertue sir; I know You love the Prince, though not with so de∣vout A heart as mine; for that I may restore Him unto liberty and's Fathers love, I here present my selfe to cruell death.

Cal.

This is a valiant piety, a gratitude That shews her mind more noble than her shape; She is not known unto the Duke more than By guessing Characters tane from report; She must not dye; though lately his com∣mands Have singled my allegiance out, it is Religious sure to faile in this.

Mel.

Sir, expectation of the ills we must Endure do more perplex us than the paine It selfe. I crave you'ld not protract my suffe∣rance.

Cal.

My thoughts have fashiond it unto my wish; Is there not a captive call'd Melora, (Most beautifull and young) that hath of late Familiar been to your society?

Mel.

I feare he hath discoverd me; D'you know the Lady sir?

Cal.

Only by Prospero's report, and I In charity desire her person safe; Your death alone will satisfie the Duke.

Mel.

My prayers have much endeavor'd that it may; And Sir t' assist your kind humanity Receive this key, 'twill give you entrance where

She now remaines a prisoner by my art; It is a narrow Closset that ore looks The Orchard grove; you know the house, 'tis Prospero's.

Cal.

I am familiar there with all the vaults, And hidden passages.

Mel.

Sir, for regard of honour suffer not Her freedome from that place, till I am dead, For she's so much delighted with this cause, That with unwilling falshood I was faine To take advantage of her orizons, And whilst she kneeling lengthned her dis∣course With heaven, steale on this funerall habit, and In haste close up the dore to hinder her Pursute, where now she stays lamenting her Inforc'd secure estate, and envying of This danger which I chearefully embrace.

Cal.

My life shall warrant hers, be pleas'd to enter there, And stay till I informe the Duke of your ap∣pearance and approach.

Melo.

Most willingly; but still sir I implore your mercy would Secure that Lady, and the Prince, how ere The angry starrs provide for me.

Cal.

It is no lesse unkind t'importune than To doubt my care; there Lady, through that doore— Expect my sad returne will be too soone.

Melo.

Forgive me best Evandra, that I thus Assume thy name, and have beguil'd thee of So brave a death, the motive that perswades me to't Did not become thy knowledge nor my tongue.

Exit

Cal.

This Princesse hath a soule I could adore Whilst it remaines eclips'd on earth, nor shall It yet reach heaven; both being utterly Vnknowne, will make the plot with easy help Succeed. Melora straight I will present T'appease the fury of the Duke, and then This Lady and the Prince are free; through blood Is the best issue of our hopes; if fate Ordaine it thus, I shall prove fortunate.

Enter Frivolo, Tristan, Musitians, and Boy.

Altesto.

Come boy, lift up your voyce to you 'bay window. Sing the Song I gave you last night, and firke Your fidles bravely too, beare up the bur∣then.

Boy.

No morning red, and blushing faire, be through your glass, or curtaines spyd, But cloudy gray, as the short hayre, of your old everlasting Bride.

Chor.

So old, so wondrous old, i'th nonage of Time, Ere Adam wore beard, she was in her Prime.

Boy.

Whose swarthy, dry'd westphalia hipps, are shrunk to mummie in her skin, Whose gummes are empty, and her lipps, like eyelids hairy and as thin.

Chor.

So old so wondrous old, &c.

Boy.

For Am'rous sighs which virgins use, she coughs aloud from lungs decayd, And with her palsey cannot chuse but shake, like th'trembling of a maid.

Chor.

So old, so wondrous old, &c.

Boy

And when her nightly labour swells, to vast extent, her pregnant wombe, Midwives believe, that it foretells, a hopefull Timpany to come.

Chor.

So old, so wondrous old, &c.

Boy.

What need her husband then vex heaven, and for a plenteous off-spring begge, Since all the Issue can be given, is that which runneth in her legge.

Chor.

So old, so wondrous old, &c.

Altest.

Good morrow to the right worship∣full leader Captaine Vasco, And to's his right reverend Bride. Now gentlemen scrapers you may be gone:

Ex. Musick.

Enter Vasco (dressing himselfe.)

Vas.

My good friends, a certaine salt shower should have Season'd your feathers, had not my luck bin To marrie with one that consumes all her moysture In thume, a meere Egyptian cloud for drowth.

Altest.

But why so soone abroad? Vasco are these

A Bridegroomes howres? thou art as early up As creditors i'th Terme.

Fri.

Or Sergeants when The needy gallant meanes to steale a jour∣ney.

Trist.

And they prevent it by arresting his innocent horse.

Vas.

Businesse at Court; but Gentlemen this is A resurrection to me, beleev't I'm risen from the dead, from bones more dusty Than theirs that did begin their sleep be∣neath A marble Coverlet some thousand yeares ago.

Enter Widow, and Lelia.

Altest.

'Las poore Vasco! widdows can strangely mortifie.

Wid.

Put Dates and Amber in the Gruell Lelia, And let it boyle long.

Lel.

And shal I make the Poultice straight, and send Your other hood forsooth to be new lin'd?

Wid.

First stay till you have ript my vel∣vet muffe, Ile have that lining serve.

Vas.

She's risen too; pure soule, Devotion and Aches keep her still waking.

Wid.

How do you Sir? we must comfort one another.

Vas.

There is need of't, no Marriner ere had A wors•• ••ight in a storme.

Altest.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 is usage Vasco wil hardly mollifie Her Iron Chest, and make her bags open.

Vas.

Nay, I've tane order for her wealth if she Would be so courteous now to dy.

Altest.

Beleeve me, you'l find her very obstinate Touching that point; 'tis true, a woman that Had the least dramme of kindnesse or of reason Would for her husbands benefit depart This transitory at a minutes warning, Make a low courtsie, take her leave and dy,

She listens.

With lesse noise than flies forsake us in a frost.

Vas.

I, you speake of kind reasonable women, Alas she's of another mould; she'ld think't A strange request if I should urge it to her, Though it be evidently for my good.

Fri.

What is't for her to dye once? alas, She knows well she hath eight lives more to come.

Altest.

Frivolo saies right. I think Captaine 'twere fit You make a motion to her; see how 'twill worke.

Vas.

Never Gentlemen; if her own good nature Will not perswade her to't, let her e'ne live Till she be thought so much a Ghost, that the state Command her take a house in a Church-yard, And never walke but at midnight.

Wid.

What do they say Lelia?

Lel.

Forsooth devising for your worships good.

Wid.

Kind heart! me thinks you are not merry Sir.

Vas.

Who, I? as joviall as a condemn'd man I.

Wid.

Will you fit down and eat a little broth?

Vas.

I shall be cawdled like a Haberda∣shers wife That lies inn of her first child; but methinks Upon a stricter view you look not well, Your bloud absents it selfe, are you not faint?

Altest.

I, and her eyes shrinke, and retire into Their melancholly cells; your breath smells somewhat Of earth too, but 'tis nor much.

Fri.

By'rlady but take heed, my Grandam thus Was taken spinning at her wheele, and dy'd So quickly (as they say) as one would wish.

Trist.

I've seene a Coarse look better in a shrowd. If you have any businesse now with heaven 'Twere fit your prayers were short, for I much feare You'l not have breath enough to utter it.

Wid.

'Tis more than I feele; look I so ill Lelia?

Lel.

As you were wont forsooth, most strange and uggly.

Wid.

Come, leade me in: pray husband do not grieve, Tis but a sit that ever takes me once In fifty yeares: but weepe hot, 'twill away.

Vas.

Every teare shall be as big as a turnip When I weepe; the good pox comfort you, Wench Follow the game close, still breath death to her.

Lel.

Warrant you sir, I cannot do a better Deed than put her in mind still of her end.

Exit Widow and Lelia.

Vas.

Marry a widow, and be coffind up VVith clouts and a skelliton? by this day, I lay last night lock'd in surgeons box; Compard unto her bed, a Pothecaries bing Is a Venetian cowch, and Canopie.

Alte.

Those that seek gold, must dig for it in mines.

Vas.

VVell my camp companions, what thinke you now O'th court? I am sent for thither to take charge Of what is yet the moitie of a miracle. But you are all content to thrive, to jet And strut like lustfull Turkeys with your plumes spread.

Altest.

Tis not amisse; my good Lord Frivilo, I kisse your soft hands; noble sir keepe on Your Cordovan, I sweare your glove is a Preferment, 'bove the merit of my lips.

Fri.

You cherish my ambition sir—signieur

Tristan?

your profess'd slave: I pray keepe on Your way, I'ld rather build another wall Than to dishonor you by taking this.

Trist.

Beleeve it sir, both hands must be cut off Ere I mistake to place you neere the left.

Vas.

This practise will do well, follow a∣pace, I must with speed to Caladine.

Exeunt.

Enter Evandra, Caladine.

Evan.

'Tis strange, it seemes he knowes me not, and that The falsly, kind Melora weares my name He speakes as if her life he tendred more Than mine, 't is a mistake I faine would che∣rish.

Cal.

I did not thinke the stock of nature could, In this her colder age, be rich enough To store the world with two such beauties that Together take their growth, and flourishing, And this unto my instant judgement seemes (If such amazeing formes admit of diffe∣rence) The more exact, but that the blood & stile Of Princess makes the other claime our reve∣rence As well as love, and for Alvaro's sake, I wish I could procure that she might live.

Evan.

I have consider'd what you told me sir, And though the Princesse through a fond ex∣cesse Of love, would hasten a calamity That all the world must grieve and wonder at, Yet I could give her reason an excuse, For I my selfe to ease her sufferance Could willingly indure the same.

Cal.

It ripens more, and swifter than my hopes Designe; you reach at an ambition Lady, So great and good, my wonder interrupts My language still, I cannot prais't enough. Can such a vertuous courage dwell in your sex?

Evan.

If you uprightly love her and the Prince, (Whose care she is) straight leade me to the Duke, And try how reall my professions are.

Cal.

Forgive the office you invite me to, Which by the hopes of my religion could My life excuse, I should esteem't too cheape An offering; this, Lady, is the fatall way—

Evan.

Melora, now my fortune is above Thy art, and I shall equall thee in love.

Exeunt.

Enter Duke (with Letters) Vasco, Altesto, Frivolo, Tristan, Attendants.

Duke.

Againe in low petitionarie stile He beggs me by these letters to release His daughter, and doth proffer summes so vaste To ransome her, as would orecome the co∣vetous:

But I have sent him such deniall, with Disdaine, as must distract and breake his heart. Vasco, yo've heard how ill I am obeyd By these persum'd smooth traitors of the Court, And I have chosen you to show a duty Fitting the stricter discipline of warre, To actuate all my wil with instant diligence.

Vas.

You must injoyne me sir commands that are Most horrid, and unnaturall, when I Prove slow, or faint to execute.

Duke.

If these your officers and friends become Disloyall to your will, you may provide The rack and tortures to inforce em too't.

Va.

If their own appetites wil not perswade. There is small hope from punishment. Marke sir, that whey-fac'd fellow in the red, The Rack is his delight, and gives him as Much ease, as when he's stretch'd with la∣zinesse And a coole mornings sleepe.

Duke.

Is't possible!

Vas.

I've seene him suffer the Strapado thrice, Hang in this politique posture in the ayre, As he were studying to circumvent nature, And no sooner downe but calls for a wench.

Duk.

I know you have the skill to govern them. Be sure that Prospero's house be diggd untill The pinacles and the foundations meet. Vnlesse they deale by sorcery and charmes, I'le finde these buried lovers out, and my False sonne the Prince, that covets darkenes more Than blessed light, or my respect.

Vas.

I doe not like this businesse should concerne The Prince; although the rack be somewhat out Of season with my old bones, for his sake

Enter Melora and Servant.

I shall become a parcell traytor too.

Mel.

I feard that Caladine delaying his Returne so long, might frustrate all my glory; And how Evandra's skill might worke with him Was dangerous. I doe not see her here.

Ser.

Pray heaven my Master do not check my forwardness T'obey your will; he meant you should keepe home.

Melo.

My presence here will make his be∣nefit; I told thee so before; trust my excuse in thy behalfe.

Duk.

What Ladye's that?

Melo.

One that to pleasure you with a re∣venge, Present my selfe to execution, with As liberall ioy, as to the marriage priest. And when I name my selfe Evandra, you Will know enough to satisfie your wrath.

Duke.

Is the belov'd Bird flown from the darke cage? Their magick was not strong enough to hin∣der destinie, And you will find small am'rous pitty in My frozen age. My guard ceaze on her straight.

Enter a Guard, and bind her.

Altest.

Vasco, this is Melora my prisoner?

Vas.

Peace Devill, peace, thou wilt de∣stroy brave mysteries. A noble girle; I conceive all; now would My gratious widow be burnt to char-coale Ere she had braine, or nature for a plot Like this; I could eat her, and her cloathes too, By this hand, her very shooes were a rare messe.

Melo.

Yf you expect to find me here a lowly sutor, Tis but to hasten sir your glad content With a dispatch upon my life, and that The Prince may be ••ton'd unto your love.

Duke.

Her spirit seemes to stir my man∣hood more Than it astonisheth my sence. I am Resolv'd to farther your desires (brave dame) With all the helpe of cruelty and haste.

Enter Caladine and Evandra.

Cal.

Death slave, what make you here? the Princesse too? Why did you give her liberty?

Serv.

She told me sir, it was with your consent.

Cal.

She hath ore'reach'd my skill, I am undone.

Duke.

Stay Caladine, another prize? come back And render me that Ladies name.

Evan.

He knows it not; my name's Evan∣dra sir.

Mel.

I feare I am depriv'd of my intent.

Duke.

We must to Delphos sure t'untie these doubts And wonders with an Oracle.

Evan.

Do not beleeve that Lady sir, she hath Beguil'd me of my name, and is so sick And fond with an improper love, she would Betray her self unto a paine, she knows Not how to merit nor endure like me.

Mel.

O Sir, I find her language is most apt And powerfull to perswade, but let your faith Consider my affections too.

Evan.

Why dost thou let thy kindnesse wrong we thus, Undoing thy Religion with thy love?

Mel.

'Tis you confer the Injury, that will Not suffer me to dye in peace.

Vas.

Rare wenches both; all this is for the Prince.

Duke.

Though small inquiry would dis∣cover soone Who justifies the truth, yet I will end The difference so as shall afford you equall joy, And not endanger a mistake in me; Convey them to the Fort, they shall both die.

The Guard laies hold on them.

Vas.

Hath this Duke buried all his good∣nesse in's Reverge! sure he is libd, he hath certainely No masculine businesse about him.

Duke.

Lead them away.

Cal.

Ile follow too, and mourne the ob∣sequy Ere ceremonious death make it compleat.

Mel.

Forgive this emulation (Madam) you Shall know a cause that will invite you to't.

Evand.

Poore Melora! I pitty not my self but thee

Exeunt Cal. Evand. Mel. and Guard.

Duke.

Now let my Son, and's Minion Prospero (Rebellious as himself) resign toth' Fiends Their dark and hidden tenements again, Come forth free and secure, for since they valued death As a delight they shall not suffer it; Go straite proclame their next appearance safe, For it wil pleasure me they should stand by To see, and not be able to resist, the justice of revenge.

Vas.

Sure revenge is a strange kind of Le∣chery; How it hath alterd him!

Duke.

Vasco, now the inchanted house may stand; But be you here to morrow with some strength To guard their execution from impediments Of rage, or pitty; they shall suffer early.

Exit.

Vas.

I thank your grace for any employ∣ment. Altesto, art thou a rogue?

Altest.

A little (Sir) infected with your company.

Vas.

Art thou so very a rogue, if I com∣mand. Thee from the Duke, to cut off these Ladies heads, Thou'lt whet the Axe thy self, and doit with the Dexterity of a Flemming?

Altest.

I will see thy head in a leatherne case first, Kickt in a footbal match from gole to gole.

Vas.

Why I thank thee; what say you Frivolo, Wenches and Surgeons have cost you deare, Have you remorse enough to do't?

Fri.

I've a mind rather to rebell, break shops Open, and make choice of my silks, without Taking notice (sir) of the Mercers book.

Trist

Such wholsome businesse would more take me too Than cutting off poore Ladies heads, unless Your faire widow (Vasco) come in my reach, I could behead her for her left eare ring, Though it be but an Agat set in Copper.

Vas.

Come let's to bed; the Sun to mor∣row will Rise black, or I shall think him a dull insen∣sible Planet, and deserves no more adoration than a farthing candle.

Exeunt.

Enter Leonell, Alvaro, Prospero.

Leon.

Sir, you have heard how she be∣traid me to A Vow, and with what cruell menacings My Sister and her self petitiond heaven T'assist their curses in a punishment Upon my after-life, if I were perjur'd by A breach of what my promise did assure.

Alva.

It was a vow no lesse unkind than rare, T'imprison us that had no cause nor will To do a noble stranger injury; But I have learnt a tame Philosophy, Perswades me to forgive all but my selfe.

Pro.

How comes the date of your strict vow expir'd, And that you now afford us liberty? Which if my memory be just, you said She did enjoyne you should not be, ere she Was gone to suffer death.

Leon.

Sir, she is gone, my Sister too; one that Attends by your command these hidden walks In breathlesse haste just now distill'd the poi∣sonous news Through my sick eare.

Alva.

Gone? and to dye? adorn'd (Me thinks) like to an ancient sacrifice With flowers, which are not sure the issue of The spring, but of her beauty, and her breath.

Pro.

Would I had patience to endure ca∣lamities Like this! but I'm forbid by my galld heart; Why did you keep us limited and lockt I'th Cave when we had power to hinder her Departure, and her death? 'twas a bold crime.

Leon.

Sir, I have hope I gaind your par∣don when I mention'd the misfortune of my vow.

Pro.

I understand not such injurious vows: Thou lov'dst her Leonel, and through the pride Of envy couldst not yeeld, since thy own hopes Grew faint, that mine should ere be prospe∣rous; Therefore with cunning willingnesse endur'd Her desp'rate fally to the Duke.

Leon.

That I did love her sir is a most true And fitting glory to proclame; but that I'm guilty of so base a slander as Your rashness hath devis'd provokes me to A rage that may prove dangerous: reclame Your thoughts, and teach them more civi∣lity.

Pro.

The Prince grows solemne with his griefe, lest we Disturbe him let's retire aside, and Ile Whisper such reasons to thee as shall want No courage to be truths, though they in∣flame.

They walke aside.

Alva.

Fountaines that ever weep have in their teares Some benefit, they coole the parched earth, And cherish a perpetuall growth; the sad Arabian tree that still in Baulmy drops Dissolves her life, doth yield for others help A medicine in those teares: but triviall man Though he hath sence to mourne, may weep and melt His injur'd eyes to viewlesse aire, yet all Th' expence affords is vainely to discerne His mourning gives his sorrows life, and length, But not the guiltlesse cause a remedy.

lies down.

Leon.

My Lord, I stayd upon the garden Mount, And in the heate of my impatience was So kind, much to lament your tardinesse; But now I must have leave to think one that Delights to heape up wrongs, hath fury more To dare than do.

Pro.

Were this a Temple, and the Prince Imploy'd i'th rev'rend businesse of a Priest, I could not suffer such a boast from one That I have us'd with so much clemency In fight—defend thy life, or it is mine.

(They draw and fight)

Leon.

Are you so masterly—again—I find No lightning in your eyes, nor in your sword.

Pros.

You have the skill, but I'le distem∣per it—

Alva.

Hold, hold, eager and silly ministers Of wrath, is this a time to bleed, when ere The morning sun uncloud his pensive face, There will bee streames of blood let out e∣nough To make him drinke till he be sick with sa∣crifice? Give me thy sword. How Prospero? are my Commands grown wearisome and cold—

Pros.

There sir—I'm still rebuk'd like to a boy.

Alva.

How long shall I direct thy temper to A gentle and a soft demeane ere thou Grow wise, and milde Enough to governe it? Let me intreat you sir, to sheath your wea∣pon too.

Leo.

Sir, you are worthy to command; and know I weare it for my guard, not insolence.

Pros.

I am appointed all my actions still, As my stupiditie made me not fit To know, but suffer injuries.

Alva.

Why dost thou frowne? the sullen wrinckles on A lyons brow carry a grace, 'cause they Become a beast, but he that can discerne The nobleness of valor should be smooth As Virgins in their bridall ornaments.

Pros.

Sir, I am taught; how ere my sences are Not so mistaken and so weake, but that They know him false; he lov'd Evandra.

Alva.

Is that a crime? thou told'st me in the cave Thou lov'dst her too.

Pros.

I nere durst tell you so, Till you discern'd my passions, and inforc'd A true discoverie of their hidden cause.

Alva.

But I esteem'd it for a vertue knowne, And it indeerd thee more to my respect. Pray tell me sir, did you love Evandra? And with a heart sincere as she deserv'd?

Leon.

Sir, the confession may be honour, but No shame I did, and with a servencie Vpright as my Religion could produce.

Alva.

O what a prompt and warme de∣light I feele When others reason are inclin'd unto My choyce? 'tis strange the sencelesse world should so Mistake the privilege of love, the best Of objects! heaven affects plurallitie Of worshipers, t'adore and serve, whilst we In that chiefe hope are glad of Rivalship; And why should Ladies then that imitate The upper beauty most to mortall view, Be barr'd a numerous adresse? or we Envie each others lawfull, though ambitious aime? Come, joyne your hands, and seale a friend∣ship here, Good as inviolate, lasting as truth.

Leo.

You give my wishes sir, a full content.

Pros.

I want the skill to promise sir, but Ile Performe all your desires with noble saith.

Alva.

And now let me imbrace you both, for we Are lovers all, though when the morne must rise To see and blush at th'actions of the world, Like sad distressed Turtles we shall want Our mate, then we may sit and mourne be∣neath The willow that ore'shaddowes every brook, There weepe, till we are vanisht quite in teares T'increase the streame, whose senceless mur∣murings Will be excus'd hereafter in our cause.

Pros.

O that my heart would be the officer Of death unto it selfe, and breake without My irreligious helpe; my life is tir'd.

Leo.

And I have thoughts so wild, so much unsafe, They would be sinne in utterance, as in act.

Alva.

Give me your hands; with a slow fun'rall pace Weel move, to see this dismall Tragedie. Let's beare it bravely, like such lovers as Have reason can perswade their courage to Attempt things bold and fit; whil'st there was hope, We cherish'd it with proffer of our lives, But now the strength of Armies cannot free Her from my fathers wrath; nay, hand in hand—

To shew this truth in loves Philosophy, That as one object equally allures Th'ambition of our hope, so we not inter∣change Malignant thoughts; but sev'rall lovers, like Strange Rivers that to the same Ocean trace, Do when their torrents meet, curle and em∣brace.

Exeunt.