Five nevv playes, viz. The English moor, or the mock-marriage. The love-sick court, or the ambitious politique: Covent Garden weeded. The nevv academy, or the nevv exchange. The queen and concubine. / By Richard Brome.

ACT 3. SCENE 1.

Garrula. Geron.

Gar.

Would you thus offer, by your own disease To shorten your Mothers dayes? Or can you pine And I not grieve? or cannot grief kill me Do you think?

Ger.

A wise Philosopher Whilome did affirm, That women who have past the fire of love Have hearts, which grief can neither pierce, ne move.

Gar.

Son, your Philosophy fails you, as your love Blinds you: For Cupids fire I know may be Quench'd by old age: But grief's unquenchable.

Sips her bottle.

My tongue still falters with me (there's my grief)

And there are not so many fadoms 'twixt A womans tongue and heart, but grief may find The bottom, but for care to keep it up By sending down an Antidote before it.

Sips again.

Ger.

But Whilom did the love-sick Poet prove, No antidote against the power of Love.

Gar.

Forbear your Whiloms, and your old said saws, And since you are in love, and by that love Grown sick with the concealment.

Ger.

As Whilom Th' Athenian boy who stole a fox did hide Under his coat his theft from being descried Until it tore his Gentals—his intrals I should have said.

Gar.

No more I say Of your disease, but to the cure, which is The love of Doris. How ha'you try'd her, son.

Ger.

By oratory, Epistles, and by gifts Which Whilome Ovid said were best of shifts.

Gar.

Yes, such a gift it might be, and so fastened.

Ger.

But she, as Whilom said Anominus Retorteth all with scorn injurious.

Gar.

Yet will you leave your Whiloms? And go seek My Lady Governess? say I would speak with her.

Ger.

But Whilome said Diogenes (tis true) To one that would, I will not speak with you.

Gar.

Will you say as I say; and do as y'are bidden? It is not her great Lady-ships daughters hand-maid Shall scorn my son while I know what I know. If you love Doris, run and tell her so.

Ger.

For Doris love, as Whilome Daedalus. I will take wing. But see I am prevented.

Ent. Thymil.

Thy.

O Garrula! well found, I was in quest of you.

Gar.

And I was eene a sending for you, Madam.

Thy.

What an imperious beldam's this. But I Must humour her. Sending for me do you say?

For what, good Garrula.

Gar.

Sending for you? Yes Madam, so I said, And sai't again. What, what, I know what I know. You know I do; and that there is no such Distinction 'twixt the honours of your birth And place; and mine of age and knowledge, but You might vouchsafe the summons when I send.

Thy,

What needs this Garrula? I am here you see.

Gar.

You know I know, and have deserv'd some favors, I do not bost for what. You know.

Thy.

O me! Who trust those secrets whereon honour rests To custody in Mercenary breasts Do slave nobility; and though they pay A daily ransom, nere redem't away. Pray let us be more private, though indeed I love your son for his great care of mine.

Gar.

O, do you so? Go forth son Geron, till I call. All shall go well Ile warrant thee.

Ger.

Whilom, so Said a Physitian, meaning to restore, And kill'd the Patient was but sick before.

Exit.

Thy.

Why Garrula do you maintain a strife Still in my grieved mind 'twixt hope and fear? Cannot so many years of my known kindness Win yet a confidence of secrefie. You are as deeply bound by oath too as my self.

Gar.

I do confess my oath, and would not break it; Yet, Madam, as you are a woman, you May know a broken oath is no such burthen As a great secret is; besides the tickling A woman has to in and out with't. Oh The tongue itche is intollerable! And were I A woman of tongue, as most are of my calling (Though Midwives ha'been held the best at secret Co••ncel keeping) it had been out I fear.

Thy.

But still take heed dear Garrula.

Gar.

Yes Madam. Yet there are kindnesses requir'd on your part.

Thy.

Have I not still been kind?

Gar.

My memory serves me; and but that my tongue Now falters with me—I could recount

Sips.

All the rewards I have had from time to time, Since you translated me from a Country houswife, Into the Midwife Royal; what in Gowns, In Gold, in Jewels, Chains and Rings; and (which I prize'bove all) my syrrops and my sippings.

Sips.

Thy.

Your place of honour in the Court—

Gar.

What, what? I hope I had that before i'che Kings favour, As his Queens Midwife. She is in Elisium.

Sip.

Thy.

Then Garrula your learned sons preferment, Tutor and Governour to my Sons.

Gar.

Thereby Hangs a tale, Madam. Now I come to th'point; My son affects your daughters hand-maid Doris, Who slights his love. I must now by your power Obtain her for my Son.

Thy.

Be confident, Though I confess I hold her worthless of him.

Gar.

I tell him so: But love has blinded him. Ho Geron, I say Geron, come and hear.

Ent. Geron.

Ger.

So Whilome prisoners have been cal'd to come From dungeon deep to hear a blacker doom.

Thy.

Geron, be comforted. By all my power, Doris shall be your own.

Ger.

Then Whilome, as Ovid his Corynna sweet, said o—

Ent. Doris.

She comes, she comes. My joyes do overflow.

Thy.

Now Doris, what portends your hast? Speak Maid, Is it to Geron, or to me, your business?

Dor.

His ill looks, had almost made me miscarry'c.

Madam, the Princess instantly desires Your company.

Thy.

But by her Graces favour, And your leave, Doris, I will trench so far On both your patiences, and for your good, As to be witness of an interchange Of some few words twixt Geron and your self. Why look you from him so? he loves you, Doris.

Dor.

That's more then I ere knew, or read, by all He speaks or writes to me. He cloaths his words In furres and hoods, so, that I cannot find The naked meaning of his business, Madam.

Thy.

Speak plainly to her, Geron.

Gar.

To her Son.

Ger.

My business is the same, that Whilome drew Demosthenes to Corinth, some repentance, So I pay not too dear.

Dor.

Lo you there, Madam.

Gar.

You must speak plainer, Son.

Thy.

And be you kinder, Doris.

Dor.

But not so kind, good Madam, as to grant I know not what.

Ger.

O forfeit not the praise That Whilome Aristotle gave your Sex, To be inrich'd with piety and pitty.

Dor.

I know not what to pitty, but your want Of utterance. It is some horrid thing That you desire, and are asham'd to speak it.

Ger.

No, gentle Doris, nothing but the thing, Whereby great Alexander Whilome said, He knew himself a mortal, and no God, Coition—

Dor.

Be it what it will; I cannot Give what I understand not. Y'are too aloof.

Gar.

There's comfort, Son. And I'le give thee instru∣ctions To come more close to her.

Thy.

I'le ease your care, And be my self his Agent. Hee's too learned, Geron, you speak too learnedly, as if You woo'd a Muse: And Doris understands not, But by your posture, what you'ld have. I'le put Your meaning into womans words; and such As shall be sure to speed. But first I'le wait Upon the Princess. Garrula, will you go?

Gar.

And thank you for my Son: But still—I know.

Thy.

Nay, I will do't Geron, be confident.

Ger.

I thank your Ladyship as much as they Who Whilome —Whilome—

Dor.

Knew not what to say.

Gar.

He's overjoy'd.

Thy.

Go Geron, lead the way.

Exeunt. omnes.

ACT 3. SCENE 2.

King. Stratocles. Disanius. Justinius.

King.

Pray trouble me no further. I have said, That if in five dayes space she make not choice Of one of those whom (I must tell you Stratocles) She loves, and I prefer before you, then I'le weigh your suit, and reasons; and till then I say't again, you are a trouble to me.

Str.

A trouble Sir? That were a time that knew me, A trouble to your enemies, not you, When this same lump of earth (which now's a trouble) Stood a sole Bulwark of your Realm; repelling Arms of foes; shrowding your fearful Subjects Under my shield; guarding your fields and Vineyards From desolation; your Palaces from ruine; And am I now a trouble?

Dis.

Stratocles, You lose the glory of your deeds by blazing

Your own renown. He that commends himself, Speaks upon trust, and is his hearers slave.

Str.

Peace, envy, and be thankful for thy life Which thy tongue forfeits.

Just.

Let my mildness tell you, You are irreverent before the King, Who has not been forgetful of your worth, Nor slow in your reward. Then moderate Your heat with counsel; and be first assistant Unto the publick good: So shall you merit The first regard in honours and affairs Of private nature.

Sra.

So.

King.

This Oracle Troubles me not a little. I had thought Thereby to have declin'd this weighty care From my declining shoulders, and have given My countrey satisfaction, and my self, In chusing of a son and successor. But I am prisoner in the Labyrinth Of the Gods verdict.

Just.

Their sublimity In matters of the future seldom stoops To humane apprehension; yet vouchsafes To answer our demands: but chides withall Our too much incenss with obscurity. Your grace however may presume, where they Shal deign to spend a word, and take an offering, It is a certain augury of good.

King.

Thou hast allay'd my fear. Justinus come, Lead me thy brains assistance. For in thee I find a temper that accords with me.

Exit King Just.

Dis.

Souldler, I dare yet tell thee thou art rash; Foolish as valliant; and as easily may'st For all thy lostiness be undermin'd As the base bramble: Boasting weakness, thee

And promising Ambition leads thee up An earthly exhalation into th'air; Where with a little borrow'd light, one moment, Thou shin'st the mark and wonder of all eyes; But soon consum'd and darted to the Center, Becom'st the scorn of men and sport of Children.

Str.

You are oth sect of Cinicks, and have learn'd To bark Philosophy.

Dis.

Then shall you hear Your now adorning multitude upbraid Your insolence and pride, and gain the name Of Prophets by your downfall, while one swears He had foretold it long; Another dreampt it; All joyntly cry we never could indure him; See what a look he has; what brawny lips; What poysonous eyes; and what an impudent front!

Str.

You will out-run your priviledge of prating And suffer for't.

Dis.

I am too prodigal Of seed upon so flinty soyl as thou. Be as thou art, and perish.

Exit.

Str.

Ignorant wretch, That out of all thy bookish Theory Knowes not the soul to be Aerial And of a soaring nature; not unlike The noble Falcon that will never cease To work 'bove all that tops her. The supream Estate on earth, and next unto the Gods Is majesty; and that's my present gain, Though I have all but that, yet wanting that All is as none to me: And since my way Must be upon the Ruins (sowre Disanius) Of thee, and of thy glories in thy Nephews The Kings dear darlings, for whose pretious sakes I must attend five dayes (yet be a trouble)

I'le travail through your bloods: Thy self has gi'n me The quicker motion by thy timely envy. Thou hast set spurs to the pale horse of death, That into dust shall trample all those lets Which stand twixt me and the Thessalian Crown,

Enter Matho.

Upon whose back I'le set this Rider.

Mat.

My soveraign Lord.

Str.

I like that compellation: Thou stil'st me as thou wishest me, on whom Depends thy consequent advancement, Matho. But we but dream of soveraignty and sleep To the Atchievement: something must be done With waekful eyes and ready hands my Matho.

Mat.

Now my King speaks himself. Let but your eye Find out the way these ready hands shall act The strength of your designs. I can perceive That now the labour of your Jove-like brain Is bringing forth the Pallas, shall inspire Me, to perform the work of my advancement.

Str.

Tis not yet ripe for the delivery, But thou shalt quickly have it. Follow me.

Exit.

ACT 3. SCENE 3.

Eudina. Thymele. Placilla.

Eud.

Good Madam, let me be excus'd. The mirth You offer'd to allay or quench my sorrows Might have been well receiv'd at former times: But now it is unseasonable.

Thy.

Yet think on't, Madam, How gravely Geron goes, and with what scorn The wanton Girl recoyles.

Eud.

Good, speak no more on't.

Thy.

Then Beldame Garrula's reasons urging Doris▪

Shewing how either of his pupils grace In your electing Philocles or Philargus, Though to them doubtful, is a sure advancement To her by Geron.

Eud.

Still you move like those That do in merry tales mis-spend their breath To those that are that day mark'd out for death.

Thy.

You may not say so (Madam) tis in you By taking one, to give new life to two; Your self, and if you'l give me leave to name The other, be it Philargus: or, if chance Shall favour better, Philocles or him, Let it be him that gives you the first visit.

Eud.

That were to fancy in our selves an Oracle; Or to give fortune power, to execute The judgement of the Delphian God.

Thy

Who knowes But that his Oracle would have it so.

Pla.

Was it for that you now sent for Philargus.

Aside

Thy.

Say, shall it be so Madam; or suppose so?

Eud.

This pleases better yet then Gerons wooing. Praythee Placilla sing. And may thy voice Attract him that may prove the happier choice.

Pla.

Ile try my best in notes, and what they want Ile strive to make effectual in my wishes.

Eud.

Thanks kind Placilla.—But the leaden weights Of sleep oppress mine eye-lids, and I shall not hear thee.

Thy.

Yet sit, and let her sing: you'l sleep the better.

Placilla Sings. After a strain or two, Eudina sleeps, and enters, as a vision at the several doors, Philargus and Philocles; They meet and embrace affectionately: then whisper a while: Then sudenly start off, and draw their swords: menace each other, and severally depart. The song ended, Eudina affrightedly starts up.

Eud.

Stay Philocles, stay Philargus. Let not fury Lead you to end that difference with your swords, Which onely fits my life to satisfie.

Thy.

What means your Grace.

Eud.

Pursu'em, with prevention, Before they meet again, or one or both Must perish; did you not observe their challenge, And eithers daring other to the field?

Thy.

Who Madam, where? and when?

Eud.

Now; here; your sons. How can you ask?

Thy.

Because we were awake And saw nothing.

Pla.

Collect your spirits Madam: you slept.

Eud.

It was an omenous dream then.

Thy.

And of good, I dare divine it Madam. And now see

Enter Philargus.

Whom fortune first hath sent to be your choice. Philargus, you have won the glorious prize.

Philar.

But dos the glory of the world, Eudina, grant it.

Eud.

My affrightment shakes me still— O my Philargus, I am now inspir'd Sure by a vision from the Gods, with knowledge, That, in my choice of you, or Philocles, I shall become the ruin of you both.

Philar.

Tis not in fate to wound our common friendship.

Eud.

Tis better in my self to kill the danger.

Philar.

The Gods avert such purposes. If you Deprive the world of your fair self, then we Both fall by necessary consequence. But what are we? This Thessaly must suffer. The King must yield, to see a new and strange Successon appointed to his Crown; And by his subjects, not himself.

Eud.

Tis that

Deters me: yet let me prevail Philargus (To quit me of my fears) that ere I passe My faith unto a husband, your and Philocles, Before the Gods, your Mother, and my self, Once more, do celebrate your vow of Friendship. And let me be excus'd in this: for I Must tell you, dear Philargus, that tho' now My love be fixt on one of you (albeit I name not which) I will not take him with Least scruple of a fear of losing him Again by th'others spight; nor leave that other Lesse lov'd by me, then now he is, for ever; And tho but one can be possess'd of me One friendship, yet, must marry us all three.

Philar.

The Gods have spoke it in you; it is their Divine injunction; Madam, I obey it, And dare engage as much for Philocles.

Thy.

This is most fair: now, till you meet, tis fit You fall on lighter purposes for your health. Son, here was mirth to day; although the Princesse Relish'd it not.

Philar.

I heard of Gerons love To his fair Doris. We are now become His Tutors, Madam, to be amorous.

Thy.

Placilla, come you hither. I observe A change in you of late; and do suspect The Reason. What! Do you blush at my suspition? Nay then you mak'•• my knowledge. You are in Love. I'le yet come nearer you. I guesse with whom: And at fit time I'le school you for'••.

Eud.

Come Madam; Now if you please wee'l take some ayr.

Philargus

Craves leave to seek his brother.

Philar.

Yes Madam.

Thy.

I wait o'your Grace. Nay, do not look displeas'd:

I tell you Girl, there is danger in it.

Exit Eud Thym.

Philar.

Stay Placilla. What! has my Mother chid you. I'le not question Her Reason, nor your fault; but pray thee sister If Philocles approach to see the Princesse Ere my return, tell him I stay at's lodging, First, to confer with him.

Pla.

I will my brother.

Philar.

Introth thou weepst. Therefore to comfort you, Because I know by some infallible signes, You are more tender of his Love then mine. He stands in equal competition yet With me for fair Eudina. And if Fortune Allots her me, I'le be as kind a brother And stil the same to you as Philocles. I pray thee dry thine eyes.

Ent. Matho disguised with a letter.

Mat.

If a disguis'd face and a counterfeit hand Ever prevail'd, may these in this plot speed.

Philarg. reads

My Lord, I had this in charge to render to you.

Ex. Matho

Pla.

I am discover'd in my lawlesse love. Remember, Cupid, whom thou makest thy Anvil; A poor weak virgin. If thou art a God, Be just and reasonable: It savours not Of justice, to provoke incestuous flames, Nor Reason to enforce an Ardency Of things impossible. Let me not burn With neighbouring fire, which, to enjoy, I must Therefore dispair because it is so near.

Philar.

Ha! where's this fellow? is he gone?

Pla.

Yes, brother.

Philar.

Tis Philocles his hand! An eager challenge! A challenge, and to me, his friend and Brother. Now Oracle, where's your Riddle? Answer me, Apollo's fiddle-stick. O ye Delphian Priests,

You hang religion up, like painted cloaths Before unseemly walls, to cloak their filth And palliate their wicked misteries.

Pla.

How do you brother?

Philar.

Sick in Philocles. You'l hear more of his kindness to you shortly.

Exit.

Pla.

He suspects too, with much displeasure, my Unreasonable Love to Philocles. But why should we be Reasons followers With loss of liberty? which of the Creatures Allayes his heat toward any of his kind, 'Cause the same belly gave them being? They Observe no difference of Sire, or Dam, Brother, or Sister, being mature for love. Ah, whither am I going? Bestial thoughts Forth of my bosom; Leave me not my Soul, Or my soules better part, my reason. Oh It was returning but a flaming shaft

Enter Philocles.

Of love has set it's Mansion afire And frights it back again.

Philoc. Placilla.

Sister.

Pla.

That name of Sister, like a violent cold Upon an extream heat, feavers my blood To death.

Philoc.

Me thinks you are sad and troubled sister. Why thus alone? Or have you entertain'd That troublesome companion, Love? Come tell me I can advise you very learnedly: For Cupids Scholars are more exquisite In giving councel then in using it.

Pla.

How shall I answer him? I dare not look on.

Philoc.

Why are you sad.

Pla.

Out of conformity Unto the present garb: I have assum'd Onely a veil of sadness.

Philoc.

Thou art onely happy, Whose sorrow is but outward, as a stranger Call'd to be present at a funeral Clads himself like the rest, is serious, And silent with a countenance dejected, And Testudineous pace; but has not tears, No groanings for a loss to him unknown: The Obsequies performed uncloaths himself Of griefe and weeds together. But my sister, You are not pleas'd to talk upon this subject. Where is the Princess?

Pla.

He'has given me now a Colour for my sadness. The Princess is retir'd; She has been troubled With a most fearful dream of a Duello Betwixt you and Philargus to be fought.

Philoc.

With friendly Courtesies?

Pla.

Nay, with swords she said.

Philoc.

Ha, ha, ha.

Pla.

Philargus hath been with her, and to him She told her fears, enjoyning him, that both Of you should come, and jointly before her Declare your constant friendship.

Philoc.

That's soon done.

Pla.

But trust me Sir, I fear Philargus took not All as she meant it; for at his departing, He look'd displeasedly; and, when I demanded His healths condition, he said he was sick In Philocles.

Philoc.

In Philocles his absence, As I am in his. That was his meaning sister.

Pla.

Pardon my fear; which is, that hee's not friends w'ye.

Pheloc.

Away, your fear has made you idle.

Pla.

No. It is my love, in that black horror clad, Which will, before it leaves me, make me mad.

Exit.

Philoc.

Ile seek him out.

Enter Matho disguis'd, a Letter.

Math.

My Lord, I was commanded To convey these into your Lordships hands.

Philoc.

By whom were you imploy'd?

Math.

My Lord 'twas not The man that mov'd me. For I know him not; But the reward. I humbly take my leave.

Exit

Philoc.

My brother write. Ha! Are we at such distance? Thou art no Prophetess, Placilla, art thou?

He Reads.

Brother Philocles, we are the laughing stock of the Nati∣tion; and injurious both to the King, our Countrey, the divine Eudina, and our selves, by our childish love. The time is short, meet me, (I conjure you by our Friendship) within three hours, in the North vale of Tempe; where it shall be the Gods election to take one of us, and leave the other for Eudina. Expostulate not with your self, much less with me otherwise then by weapon, or never expect to see your Brother Philargus.

O Gods and men! where shall we go to find Friendship and truth? Bee't so: For in th'event We may be happy both: But with this ods; One with Eudina, tother with the Gods.

Exit.

Explicit Actus Tertius.