Poems, viz. 1. A panegyrick to the king. 2. Songs and sonnets. 3. The blind lady, a comedy. 4. The fourth book of Virgil, 5. Statius his Achilleis, with annotations. 6. A panegyrick to Generall Monck. / By the Honorable Sr Robert Howard.

ACT. 5. (Book 5)

SCEN. 1.

Enter Phylanter.

Phyl.

HOw have I thus been cousened! how mon∣strous too It seems, still to pursue the crimes I lov'd before: To be uncousened, though 'tis just, seems poor, When danger gives the wisdom: how low we sinck When we once fall below our selves! We still must fear what others ought to do. In crimes none can be wise and gallant too. All this besides for an uncertain Beauty, Nor yet possest or gain'd, the Persian so Spends all his wealth and prayers on the Sun, That equally dispences unto those Which ne're ador'd him, his warm comforts too. Farewell to all your Sex, that cannot be Belov'd, but with unthrifty misery. The Lover that's unlov'd, like me, must waste His store of Love, the Lov'd may longer last. They that joyn Stocks, with ease our-spends Him that runs on unpaid and lends. Farewell: I will uncheat my self and you, For when I lov'd you first I cousen'd two.

Sould.

My Lord!

Phyl.

How now?

Enter Souldier.

Sould.

A woman at the dore

Desires admittance to your Lordship.

Phyl.

Thou ravest! a woman?

Sould.

So I told you.

Phyl.

Nay, I might wonder, for such and I Have now so little businesse with each other, That by my troth 'tis strange. Seems she a person of any quality?

Sould.

Yes.

Phyl.

Handsome?

Sould.

To a miracle.

Phyl.

The Devil on the wonder! businesse with me?

Soul.

So she earnestly exprest.

Phyl.

Bring her in.

[Exit Souldier.

Curse on the Sex, Civility must wait upon 'em, Their weaknesse makes us fools, or else their beau••ies. Ha! 'tis that indeed that charms us from our selves, And all the handsome actions that we do Seem offerings to their powers, as if the Sea Should send a tribute to the little Brooks, Such a preposterous thing is Love, 'tis like The folly and the crime to make a god One's selfe to worship—Now for a trap I shall be shy of these fair baits. —What subtle trick— Must this fair Instrument bring about?— —I will be deaf to charms—She comes.

Enter Amione and Souldier.

Ha—extreamly fair— Come perhaps for to revenge The scandall of her sex upon me—Is it on me

Fair maid, that you would lay commands?

Ami.

A comely man, pitty that form Should harbour so much basenesse.

[aside.

It is you, Sir, I must petition; for commands, Though they might seem fair attributes to our sex, Yet when you know, to whose much hated name, Nature has made my Love a debt, You will believe, Thardly should petition.

Phyl.

I rather shall consider this fair thing, To whom a hated name can owe an interest, —But you have heard— Stories perhaps, not much becomming me, Made up of others envies and my crimes, Nor can I tell a good one of my selfe, But that I love an innocence like yours, And only that, for you to have a confidence, I hardly shall deny you.

Ami.

The world has sure belied him,

[aside.

—Nay, Sir, Nature commands, that I should ask, Your fair encouragement has given me hopes▪ Not to be quite denied, and I am sorry That I must now beg a civility, And dare not own requitall; 'tis the first time, That justice and ingratitude were friends.

Phyl.

You still believe me too unworthy: they that do An act that does deserve requitall, Pay first themselves the stock of such content, Nature has given to every worthy mind, If others should be bankrupt—

Pray torture me no more but aske.

Amio.

He would deceive me strangely,

[aside.

Know then, the sister to wrong'd-Mironault must ask: Does it not startle you?

Phyl.

You see it does not. He that has injured Mironault, will grant it, Trifle no more.

Amio.

Tis only then your leave that I may see him,

Phyl.

And happinesse attend you, you shall have A conduct with you;—I did not think That I should find so much of joy, In that small time I have to bustle here, As your lov'd power has given me, Pardon me, if I dare attempt To have a little peace within me, Still to remember you, I fear I must, Though both should be unwilling.

Amio.

I shall promise Sir, I carry no intelligence.

Phyl.

Urge it no more, I do not fear, Nor am I ignorant, of what a storm Is falling now upon me, only grieved That I durst bring it to't, and yet now pleased, That I dare bear it: choise in crimes, Is the worst part in man, and good from fear, The meanest. But I have said to much, only thus, The last of all my thoughts, shall be of you, They may be good: Nay, do not wonder, Nor be so much concerned for one so lost, To frame an answer from a smile or frown, I will conduct you on your way, as you come back,

Others shall waite you, for your eyes Shall not be injured with an hated object. Here in this world, my fate, the quarrell ends, —In t'other sure, we may meet friends.

[Exeunt.

ACT 5. SCEN. 2.

Enter, Mironault, Hyppasus, Pysander.

Hyp.

NAy, for certain, Sir, We saw a body marching, which cannot possibly Belong to t'other Army.

Pys.

Why, I did alwayes believe, My dancing daies were not quite done.

Mir.

I know not what to ghesse, nor do I wish; For in extreams, lesse cares give noblest thoughts, Designes of wishing, are the cheating joyes Of fearfull men, t'were foolishnesse beside; A carelesse hope looks handsomely.

Hyp.

We shall so justifie our selves, but I believe, 'Tis not unreasonable, to think our innocence Should merit some protection, the Princesse sure Will not be last in justice.

Mir.

Urge it no more, nothing is worth her care, 'Tis some as bad as those, come to assist them.

Enter servant.

Serv.

There's one without, Sir, that would desire

Admittance to you.

Mir.

Who i'st.

Serv.

A woman.

Mir.

A woman? I cannot ghesse,—

Exit. servant.

—Let her come in. What should this mean, deceive me not too much, Fond hope, nor puzzle me, for if you do,—at last, I shall grow carelesse of my joyes and you; Ha! Amione,—welcome,

Enter with Amione.

Welcome, above all joyes but one.

Ami.

Perhaps, welcome as that, I have much to say, But I must first be civill. Brave Hyppasus, May you nere know extremities, but if you should, May you find such a friend, as you have been.

Hyp.

Were I not nobly paid in his desert, I were in this?

Ami.

The same to you Pysander, for to thank you In any other Language, were too poor, And much unjust, for to divide, What you so nobly joyn'd in.

Pys.

Now have I forgot, what Hyppasus said, Pray take his answer in good part for us both.

Ami.

You'ar merry still, Pysander.

Pys.

I confesse, nothing went ever neer my heart, Unlesse it were your Love, but what availeth sighes and tears?

Ami.

Very well, Sir. Dear Brother, pardon this injury of gratitude, That kept me so long from you; forgive me too,

If joy disorders me, I have enough To see you safe.

Mir.

Dear Amione, how long we shall be so, Heaven knows, yet 'twas a great advantage To live thus long to see thee: but how wast possible You could get hither, or from whence now come you?

Ami.

Why, Phylanter's great civility, Brought me safe hither.

Mir.

But from whence?

Ami.

From the Army.

Mir.

From whose Army?

Ami.

The Princesse.

Mir.

Ha!—

Ami.

I will defer your joyes no longer From the Princesse, who bid me tell you, That faith and constancie's rewarded In t'other world, and will be so in this?

Mir.

Thou would'st not mock me sure.

Ami.

I do not.

Mir.

O▪ Amione, Didst thou but know the joy of every heart, That at this hour, has its wishes crown'd, Thou might'st then ghesse at mine. And is she there in person?

Ami.

Yes, attended with a gallant Army, Much stronger then the enemy, you might Discern them sure; and resolved as soon as I return To offer battell. Is Phylanter, Prepar'd to fight?

Mir.

With any thing in spight of all his crimes,

Resolves to perish bravely, so great a villain Ne're bore so brave a mind,—tis a question, Whether he thinks, there's such a thing as danger.

Ami.

We heard indeed, he storm'd it bravely, And that your hurts were of more danger Then I perceive they are; 'twas the report Of that which brought me hither. Nor must I stay, the Princesse layed commands Of my immediate coming back; at more leisure, You shall have all my story, in the mean time, I must needs tell you, you are like to be Extreamly happy; O Brother, never was so much sweetness Guarded so sure from crimes, if ever breast Were Sanctuary for vertues, it is her's: She will deserve your love I fear much more, Unlesse its possible, men should be constant.

Mir.

This is not kind Amione, her valew Will make me wise still to preserve my riches; And benefit is mans designe.

Ami.

Man seldome though pursues his owne ad∣vantage, Women like Towns, once wonne are slighted: VVhat we already have within our powers, Has lesse esteem then unatchieved things.

Mir.

Urge it no more, one may as well be weary Of the Sun's constant shining, as her influence: He never rises, but he seems to bring Fresh glory from the East▪ and every day VVill adde a new discovery of her vertues, That she will never seem enjoy'd enough. Besides, though man's compos'd of faithlesse matter,

The Soul of one may be of nobler use Than others are, and with that Soul Man had not been so nobly put in trust Had he not means left free to be unjust. Come, so much eternitie as my love must have, Must not be told in such a little moment As you have now to spare, nor will I injure The little time I have with thee, When we shall meet again heaven knows: For friends once pawn'd to distance there is a danger To bankrupt hopes. You must expect but poor besieged welcome —Who such relief as Anchorets have At least shall find in an expected grave.

[Exeunt.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 3.

Enter Phylanter, Solus disguised.

Phyl.

WHat is the next thing how that must be done? How weary all the World and I Am grown of one another? I should be friends With this disguise, could it but hide my crimes: But night it self that great disguifer, Wants power to conceal the least of crimes From any troubled breast, when man would fain Be unacquainted with himself again:

'Tis just too, when we have our selves betraid That we should be then of our selves afraid Ambition onely is our nature's folly, That robs us of that little stock of reason, We have at temperate and idle hours. If we but take the inventory of our selves, There we shall find such perisht stuff By rage and passion, that 'tis just We should be once forgotten in the dust; —But for my new design—ha—'tis odd To throw my self into the power of them— As if 'twere meannesse, or something poorer; fear— —Yet—let it dye

[Studies.

Enter Amione. Hyp. Pys.

Ha—she comes— —A Persian's cold devotion thus, Receives new warmness from the rising Sun —It must be so— He that would hide Love kindled once within, Rakes but his fire up to keep it in.

Hyp.

We take our leaves now Madam, for we see There's one attends you from the

Exe. Hip. Pysan.

Lord Phylanter,

Phyl.

Madam, my Lord Phylanter sent me hither In his own language to present you Safety Great as you merit.

Amio.

I thank you Sir, he has obliged me nobly: Had he forgot his crimes, I should forget He were an enemy.

Phyl.

He bid me tell you farther, That he had waited on you here himself,

But that he fear'd to injure your fair eyes, That should be onely pleas'd with welcom objects.

Amio.

Ha: perish you easie thoughts, that start

[aside.

At hearing of that name, yet when you think of him I may forgive you, if you then Frighten your selves,— And yet it may be Love; ruines of Love And lightning are alike— For, what would willingly resist They both consume; I shall attend you Sir, If you please to lead the way—

[Exeunt.

ACT 5. SCEN. 4.

Enter Albertus, Lycespes.

Albert.

COntinue still worthy Lycespes, To let him know repentance needs no blushes. Or that 'tis necessary for Fate or us, To persue cruell actions, yet with a gentle hand That no distraction mingle with his nature; For he is young, and youth's unsetled furie Is ready still to act,

Lyc.

I have Sir, with a gentle hand Toucht all the storie of this madnesse, And find him too, like an experienc't gamster,

Asham'd to have been cheated, but resolv'd Wisely no more to venture at that game: Our whole designs must needs therefore now Aime, but to bring us off, and yet prepare Not to want courage in the meanest Fortune.

Albert.

'Tis all that can be said in our Conditions, In order therefore to our sad affairs, Wee'le instantly dispatch a Trumpet To offer fair conditions, or any thing That may not sound like mercy from another: That's an unworthy way to adde To other's fames, in ruining our own; And yet our whole desires shall be low, Indeed they must, for the extremity Of every unresisted Fate makes poor Their thoughts that were as rich before.

[Exeunt.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 5.

Enter Phylanter, Amione.

Amio.

YOu have now, Sir, performed that civill part, That alwies shall enforce me to esteem The Lord Phylanter, and may this Sir

She offers him money.

Tell you my thanks.

Phyl.

Madam, reward can not be due To this small service, though I may do

What may perhaps seem to deserve Something of that nature, but I must first Desire you to prepare for to believe Not ill of him, that thinks your wrongs Deserve devotions, greater than his trust.

Amio.

What mean you Sir?

Phyl.

Would it not be worth a reward at least? That you might have within your power The ease of all your hard misfortunes?

Amio.

Certainly 'twere; the sound bears greater joy Than possibility.

Phyl.

I know sometimes, that Treason seems But ugly in the justest cause; Though I believe that never yet, A power like yours commanded it.

Amio.

Still I understand you not, pray to the mat∣ter.

Phyl.

To be short then, know Phylanter loves you, Your seeming kindnesse will have power To draw him where you please, for to my breast He has committed all his thoughts, And bid me judge when I should see you, Whether he had not cause for all his passions, (Indeed he has) so much his crimes are greater; Nor is it more injustice to his trust Than due to you to tell you, if you please, That I may bear some feigned kindnesse from you, I'me sure 'twill bring him any where, That you may easily surprise him.

Amio.

But do you think he has lost his reason so? To trust himself without his guards,

And his surprifall then will not be easie.

Phyla.

Alas, his reason's like an helplesse friend, Left and forsaken, and nothing but your name Must be forgiven, that would attempt to lessen His thoughts from what he has done, you need not fear He can be over-wise that loves so much, Nor will his reason tell him that 'tis due To all his kindnesse.

Amio.

Nor is it sure.

Phyl.

But to his former storie 'tis, and present acti∣ons; For though repentance onely at your name Has power in his thoughts, yet he contemns To have that Virtue on a meaner score, His crimes to all the world besides continue.

Amio.

And they may better be the punishers.

Phyl.

I grant you, were it in their power As 'tis in yours, and they would then Do sure as much for you. 'Tis but the least command from you, My life on't, I bring him where you think best He may be with most ease surpris'd.

Amio.

But should not you consider? That though this punishment be due from me, The treacherie's unjust in you. How much it is the businesse of mankind

[aside▪ Whilest she turns away and speaks, he throws off his disguise, and lays his sword drawn, with the hilt towards her.

To make a bargain for their honesty, And yet not think how little that will yield To others, which they make so cheap,

Man's like a barren and ingratefull soil, That seldom pays the labour of manuring. How has Philanter injured him, or I obliged him? That I could at first upon a lesser score Share with his crimes, and on a meaner now Basely dislike, as if his choice were just, Whose equall ease accepts and forfeits trust. ••'le tell him too 'tis base, how fain would Love Tell his own story, through a nobler cause, And blushes sure as well as I. —It should be for Phylanter— Ha! Deceive me not fond eyes, it can∣not be

she turns and sees him.

I owe amazement now so much— —It must arrest me.

Phyl.

Wonder not, fair Amione, nor fear I'le beg your pitty, that contemn my own, And yet for many reasons think I love you; Though I believe my time will hardly give Me leave to reckon them—Onely consider, That I durst here avow it, I could have faln, Its true, as nobly with my fellows, But much more happier here; I would have weigh'd it too More leisurely in reason's scales, till a thought Of you broke in, and ended the dispute. I have at my own rate procured my happinesse, Nor have I done lesse sure for you; 'tis the first service, And likely too to be the last I e're shall do you.

Amio.

O Phylanter, you should not trust

Revenge, and all your crimes at once In any power, though I perhaps Shall fear to be a murtherer, so to make My self as bad as you.

Phyl.

Why I confesse, I willingly Would be as good as you, but that's a lesson Hardly to be learn'd, and yet it looks Much like the way to read it often; As I have done your vertues. I say not this to tempt a mercy, I have deserved a great deal of unkindnesse; But not so much as now to fall A sacrifice to any but your wrongs.

Amio.

I know not what to say— You may repent, perhaps grow good; Pray try.

Phyl.

'Tis true, I think I might; But 'tis a question still, whe're you'd grow kind. And indeed, the fear of that great danger Made me contemn the rest. But I trifle time, By all that's charitable, let me not fall By meaner hands. Hark, some Souldiers.

[a noise.

Use this for pitty's sake.

Enter Souldiers.

Amio.

Alas! ah me!

1.

How now? who have we hear, Philanter? Treason!

2.

Treason, treason!

Phyl.

Nay, then I must use it.

[fight.

Villains, I have a little businesse here,

one falls, t'other flyes.

I might have spared the reason though to you

They have raised the alarm; yet, Amione, Free me from this mean ruine.

Amio.

Pray put on your disguise again, You may yet scape.

Phyl.

I'me glad it is impossible, you see it is, O Amione; had I but loved you at a lesser rate, I might have found a soberer expression. But yet remember, a mad-man seldom loses His kindnesse with his judgment. A noise again! hell on their yellings!

[alarm.

Amio.

By that love you bear me, Put on your disguise.

Phyl.

Never, till my safety be worth your care.

Amio.

O Phylanter, though your condition needs it, 'Tis too soon for me to say it, yet I will tempt my To tell you, I would have you safe.

Phyl.

That now my fate is unavoidable, the gods blushes Perhaps provided, lest I should surfeit Of joys in this world; yet I shall have Enough, if you believe, no dying mind Can have more joy, or living love. 'Twas my grief at first to love you, and now My fear at last you should not know it. 'Twas all my businesse too before my end. I could wish one thing more, to be resolved, Whether in t'other world (where wise-men tell us, There is such store of love) our joy shall be Greatest, to meet those friends we lov'd best here. —but I shall be resolved. In the mean time, What e're becomes of me,

Let your kind thoughts —admit sometimes this minute's memory.

Amio.

Alas, think of your safety; Hark! they come! yet

[noise.

Let your disguise and me protect you.

Phyl.

When I have your protection—I need need not this disguise, Nor will I wear it. They come. My dear Amione,

Enter Souldiers.

For ever live as happy as I die.

1. 2.

Here! here! on! on! on!

Phyl.

Villains, you shall buy me bravely.

[fight.

Sym.

Hold, on your lives; how, Phy∣lanter?

Enter Sy∣mathocles.

Phyl.

The same, you need not bid me welcome, Nor tempt me much, Symathocles.

Amio.

O Phylanter, be yet more temperate; Pray, Sir, let me obtain a little hearing.

Sym.

You may command it. The Princess!

Enter Princesse, Phylena, Fol∣lowers.

Amio.

O Madam, let me beg That no amazement dwell upon your eyes, Nor any thing but mercy.

Prin.

I have both ready for thy sake—How— —Phylanter—VVhat Riddle's this—?

Phyl.

I owe that name indeed, but with less blushes Than I did once.

Prin.

I promised not to wonder, my Amione; But this is strange.

Amio.

You promised mercy too.

Prin.

Have you an interest in his pardon then? Blush not, I'le ask no more—Phylanter— This story shall be perfect at more leisure, And all things else shall be deferr'd But my forgivnesse. I do believe (You came to fetch your pardon in so much danger) You can repent or any thing, but deserve The happinesse preparing for you.

he kisses the Princess hand.

Come, Amione, thou hast brought back An unexpected friend. May this successe To every one bring equall happinesse.

[Exeunt.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 6.

Enter Albertus, Lycespes.

Alb.

HAs no one yet brought any news?

Lyc.

Not any, Sir, O misery! Betraid by some sleight. How now?

Enter a Mes∣senger.

From whence com'st thou?

Mess.

My Lord, your son desires to meet you; And withall you would not wonder, That with the Princesse he waits your comming.

Alb.

Stranger yet! some farther mischiefe sure! Lycespes Draw up the Army instantly.

[Exit Lyces.

We must not be thus cousened.

Came you from my son?

Mess.

But now, Sir.

Alb.

And is he with the Princesse?

Mess.

Yes, Sir.

Alb.

Where?

Mess.

Now comming to the House.

Alb.

With all her Army?

Mess.

Onely with a small Guard.

Alb.

There may be something then. Fortune I'le think if now thou shew'st thy care, Thou canst redeem as wel as bring despair.

[Exeunt.

ACT 5. SCEN. 7.

Enter Princess, Phylanter, Amione, Phylena, and Others.

Prin.

IS this the house, Phylanter?

Phyl.

Yes, Madam.

Prin.

Pray summon it.

Phyl.

'Twill now be yielded, Madam, Far easier than 'twould once. Within there, ho!

Pysander ap∣pears above.

Pys.

How now, what news, O Phylanter? Is your troublesome Worship there again? —how now, the Princesse too?

Prin.

The same, Pysander.

Pys.

Now truly Madam, do I think I had best call Mironault to unriddle this. —The labour's sav'd.

Mironault appears above too.

Prin.

Mironault.

Mir.

Ha.—

Prin.

Do you not know me?

Mir.

Yes, and others too there.

Prin.

This is injustice Mironault, Can you let wonder keep you thus from me?

Mir.

I had forgot, it's true, 'tis Mirramente, And serupulous thoughts were sins unpardonable,

He de∣scends.

Pys.

If I should stay to consider what this means, I should be the last should know it;

He comes down.

I'le e'ne descend too.

Prin.

Mironault, —Though these strange objects might deserve a storie,

Enter Mi∣ronault.

'T would take up time, and I shall think it crueltie To rob thee of one minute's joy, if I can give it.

Miro.

If you can give it? have I thus long Lov'd you, and lov'd you religiously, now to have All my devotion question'd? Can sick men joy in health? or liberty Be pleasing unto captives? In your kindnesse Lies all my health and liberty.

Prin.

Nor will I fear to avow it, dearest Mironault, No thoughts of crossing danger e're shall fright My Love or me.

Miro.

It's true, I am unworthy of you; but so are all,

And he that parts me from you, Must joyn me to a colder Bride.

Phyl.

And more than you, gallant Mironault, Wonder no more, nor think on stories past, But that to come, Phylanter will appear As worthy of your friendship, —As he was once of hate—but stay I had forgot to ask your pardon. Indeed

He takes Amione by the hand.

Heer's one may better do it, whose fair opinion —Will promise for me.—

Miro.

Brave Sir, I hated still your crimes not you, so did she, And if she love your Virtues, pray believe I am her brother too.

Phyl.

Madam, I see

Enter Al∣bertus.

A little honesty will make one impudent That I must now beg pardon for others, That scarsly should have hop't if for my self.

Prin.

Rise my Lord, you need not now Of any doubt your pardon.

Alb.

Excellent Princesse, I shall deserve hereafter What an unjust necessity made me shun to testifie.

Kisseth her hand.

Prin.

Hyppasus and Pysander, I must not now Forget your share in thanks, That did receive your part in danger.

Pys.

Nay your Highnesse cannot be better pleased than we That all the danger's past, to say truth,

Hypasus and I were clearly your Platonicks, And made up the Romance.

The blind La∣dy hearing his voice, calls from under the vault where he put her.

Caec.

Captain.

Prin.

How now, what's that?

Pys.

Why nothing Madam, Onely an honest fellow kill'd in the storm, And now his ghost walks; in his life time He was a talking fellow, Hyppasus you know it.

Hyp.

Hang you, what do I know?

Caec.

Why, Captain, Captain?

Pys.

Plague on you, would you were gagg'd.

Prin.

This is strange!

Pys.

Nay your Highnesse need not be troubled, I'le have a Schollar shall lay it at my own charge.

Hyp.

Well Sir, if you'le be at that cost, I'le be the Scholar, To raise it at my own.

Pys.

Pox on your conjuring fools-head,

Hyppasus takes her out of the vau't with corn upon her far∣thingale, Peter following.

By this light she rises— Like Ceres with Plenty about her, Lord, how Peter stares!

Caec.

Captain, Pray, your hand

[She goes on.

Pys.

Here forsooth.

He goes behind the Princesse.

Now have at the Princess, la, ra, ra, ra Your Highnesse may be pleas'd,

She runs against the Princesse.

To pardon her usuall exercise, She was the best tilter in her time

That ever ran.

Mironault whispers to the Princesse.

Caec.

O Captain, pray your hand,

Pys.

Now have I ague: what tends This whisperig to?

Prin.

Come Pysander, The god of Love himself is blind, She, or her estate (I hear) is very fair.

Pys.

Why, is your Highnesse in earnest? And please you shee's some sourscore, A dog were as good a husband for her To lead her up and down.

Prin.

Madam, Will you consent to have this Gentleman?

Caec.

I have already yielded.

Pys.

And be hang'd 'twas before you were storm'd.

Prin.

Come it shall be a match, shee'l make you her Executor.

Pys.

Well, wee'l all be marri'd then. Hypassus If you please, you shall have Quinever.

Pin.

We are all happy then; we need not fear, Unlesse my Father frown.

Phyl.

We shall unwillingly throw off again Our Loyalty to him, and yet we shall Be very ready to embrace a witnesse, That we dare dye for Mironault.

Mir.

You nobly all oblige me, and I must tell you My dearest Princesse that I cannot fear, Whilst I enjoy your Love, for that has rais'd me Above the power of Fate or danger, Nor have I leisure to think on any thing, But of those joys are falling now upon me,

Which neither time or age can ever lessen; For still your Virtues like Medea's charms Shall bring fresh beauties to my happy arms.

[Exeunt.

Pys.

We Bridegrooms disagree, for every day Will oblige most that adds to your decay.

[Exit with the Blind Lady.

FINIS.