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 1. (Book 1)

SCEN. 1.

Enter Albertus, Phylanter.

Alb.

BUt upon what injury, Phylanter?

Phy.

Love and Ambition, Sir, those two great injuries Of mens seduced minds, which fill the thoughts. Full of Revenge, not with the justnesse of it. What Mironault has done, moves not my hate; But what he may, my fears. By her, a Kingdom, Sir; And, with her self, a World— Falls in my arms. How slow you are to crown Me and your self with happinesse? You can love neither, and deny.

Alb.

But are you sure he comes?

Phy.

I am certainly inform'd so.

Alb.

Yet consider, son, how will the King resent, That whilst he's paying his duty to the Princesse, He should be there surprised?

Phy.

That is your part for to prevent, Sir, Telling the King, (such minds are ever jealous) That his designes were to surprise the Princesse. 'Twill appear service then, and may destroy My Rival's interest, if not advance my own. Those, Sir, that traffick in these seas, Fraught not their Bark with fear••: Besides, there needs none now.

Alb.

Yet think again, though, as you are my son, I can deny you little; and 'tis more just You should, deny your self, and not obey These hasty passions. He ne're injur'd you; Or if he had, there were a nobler way For your reven••e than this. You are angry That the world's pleased with him, and that he may Enjoy a bliss you wish for; or, at least, Because he wishes it as well as you; A Quarrell which Mankind must lay aside, Or all be Murtherers.

Phy.

You told me, I did obey my passions, To those you give your reasons then: As much you may expect from them, As if you told the winds they blew. too hard. Think of the Cause, then judge of the Effect. 'Tis Love—Love for the Princesse too, For whose fair sake, Who'd not attempt The angry billows swell'd with horrid storms, The Sea-gods Pyramids, when every wave Bears too, like those, within its womb a grave, Or dangers yet unheard of? Determine, Sir,

For I resolve to act; and let the story then Come to his unprepared ears.

Alb.

Well, that I may proserve you From some more unadvised course, (if more can be) I'le do it; but take heed Of letting violence be offer'd to him: Preserve thy self free from so foul a crime. Love's way lies not through blood. Consider too What we now go to act; nor blush To think thou didst do ill, or that 'twill throw Aspersions on thy judgment, to dislike The folly thou hadst dotingly embrac'd. Hee's wise that sees his error at the last, Who weighs all these in perfect scales, Shame of his crime, and not his wit, prevails. Farewell, I leave you to your thoughts. —I'le on my way to night. Heaven direct and prosper you.

Exit.

Phyl.

How nice his conscience was—now to my businesse. And thou, great god of Love, that rul'st my heart, Attempt but Fortune with as kind a Dart; That whilst I reach at what can scarcely be, Fortune as madly too may dote on me. —Now all things but designe Leave me—and yet—it looks but odly, To put off all this honesty at once, And to have none about me. Or was it ever mine? sure I borrow'd it, And 'tis a thing that's taken up on trust;

I owe the world so much; I'le think on't When I can pay it. Lycespes, welcome,

Enter Lycespes.

I was resolved just now to seek you.

Lyces.

You would have found me still prepar'd to serve you.

Phyl.

You are my noble friend, nor will I say, That I shall try it now; this onely can Preserve it. But words are wasters of our time, And robs us still of action. As fast then as you can Get all our friends in readinesse, as many As possibly you can, well arm'd and mounted. Return with all the speed your Love can make. As we go you shall know all, The rest must live in ignorance. What Power now to invoke I hardly know, Yet every god has felt what Love can do.

[Exeunt.

ACT 1. SCEN 2.

Enter two Huntsmen.

1.

COme, the Princesse is hard at hand: And if we haste not, she may overtake us. To night too, we must lodge the Deer.

2.

We need not care for that; this Forrest Is so well stor'd, that Game's in every Thicket. It causes the Princesse constant progresse

Into these parts—But who are these?

Enter Mironault, Hyppasus, Pysander.

1.

'Tis the brave Mironault.

Mir.

Well overtaken, Huntsmen, Is the Princesse Yet far behind?

2.

No, my Lord, he is almost in sight.

Exeunt Hunts.

Mir.

I thank you— —Whither does Love thus hurry me? A Tyrant that denies the smallest hopes, Where he gives largest wishes! The greatest Beauties are like greatest Wealths, Subjects for all mens wishes, not their hopes. Fears share with Love the Empire of the heart, Rendring alike the Lover and the Coward. Danger's the awfull Mistresse of the one, Who fears to tempt her, lest he should endure That fate too quickly, which he knowes is sure. So, whilst the other's Mistress too is ignorant, Onely more slow, the pining Lover dies, And that sure fate but hastes, if she denies.

Hyp.

Dear Sir, let not grief thus torment you. You should have there a nobler Guest, your Reason; And were that there, there hardly could be room For such disorders. Passions are like Thieves, That watch to enter undefended places, And rob you too of all that put's a difference Between Wild-beasts and Man. Yet, mistake not; Your grief, if not dispair, is the fond passion I speak against, and not the love they spring from: That were her injury, to whom alone

All is due, as Rivers to the Ocean. Yet Nature has decreed, that she must love: Believe your worth and your devotion then As great as any—

Mir.

O Hyppasus— 'Tis easier far to counsell than to act; And every one's provided with the wisdom, That has not interest in the misfortune. And those that in Feavors, though 'tis their ruine, Wish Rivers of drink; the standers by, That then advise, and, may be, wonder at them, Would, in the same disease, do just so too.

Pysan.

You know not, Sir, but this great goddesse May be a little mercifull: by this hand, If she be not, I'le be revenged, On half the Sex at least, by proving rigorous To those poor Wenches I have prated to; That's every one almost that e're I saw—Then for∣sooth Will the poor creatures wish their amorous heads Fill'd with Romances, pine, and die, With Willow-garlands under Myrtle-shades: And grief for them will kill the Mothers too. Your Princesse shall not have many Female Subjects.

Mir.

I thank thee, good Pysander, for attempting To mix thy mirth with my opposing griefs. But they are contraries, and cannot meet in one. —but let it perish withme—I must again Desire your secresies.

Hyp.

Nay that's—

Mir.

Pardon me, Hyppasus—

I know it's needlesse to repeat A wish of mine to either of you: But what men's thoughts are full with, issue forth, With too much haste and freedom.

Pysan.

Will you take my advice, Sir?

Hyp.

Nay pray, Sir, hear him.

Mir.

Come, what is't, Pysander?

Pysan.

Wholsom extreamly! For the kind consti∣tution Of a decaying Lover; this is the short Receipt. In the first place, make your self—very—drunck. Nay, nay, you need not wonder; by divine Bacchus, 'Tis a rare expression of passion to court disorderly, To make a meer Chaos of one's self, and then give her▪ The honor of Creating you; then, besides, All truth and all good nature will appear. If this be not the way to be consider'd, I'l be judg'd—

Hyp.

How do you like it, Sir?

Mir.

There's kindnesse in't to me, I know, Hyppa∣sus; And were I capable of mirth, it might produce it. But Grief and Love are throng'd together, And have scarce room enough.

Hyp.

Have either Joy or Grief, wee'l share with you; Nor was't our fears of having part That made us wish you none; we value you And our own lives at the same rate: We wish them free from all misfortunes, Yet share all willingly rather than part. But we must alter now that shew of trouble Which we have given our selves; for the Princesse

Must needs be neer.

Mir.

See Hippasus—. I had forgot the subject of my thoughts, How greedily I wish, yet fear to see her! Like some poor Votary, whose holy thoughts Sets off so much, the joyes of Paradise, That it employes as many fears as wishes. —Hark she comes! You Powers above, Lend Love and Fortune now their eyes, To help, or see at least, their sacrifice.

Prin.

You 're well met, my Lord, Was it a chance, Or your designe that brought you?

Enter Princesse Philena & followers.

Mir.

'Tis all I have about me of ambition, And of large wishes, that I may often Have leave thus to present my service.

Prin.

Your service, Sir, has been so much conside∣rable, That I should be alone guilty of folly, Did I not valew it at such a rate, As the whole World have sett upon it.

Miro.

If I had such a power, to oblige As much, as you are pleas'd to say I have; The World's applause, could not so much reward My services, as your receiving of them.

Prin.

My interest, next to my Father's, In this obliged Nation by your valour, Has made it gratitude ever for me, To avow that and more.

Mir.

I have then much of my best wishes crown'd, Yet should you know all that my heart conceals,

Though it be much like this, you'd be displeas'd With what you have pretended to allow.

Prin.

I cannot find this guilt about me, and can lesse guesse. How you should have a thought that should displease me. You cannot but oblige, and I as hardly Can tell what's injury, if you should do it.

Mir.

This is a kindnesse, still admired Princesse, That I must never ask the meaning of; But to my flatter'd fancy, so interpret As you would never do: yet 'tis unjust, That I should use, the least kind word from you, With an advantage to my selfe.

Prin.

Sure, I may give you leave to do it, For such a confidence I justly have Of your great vertues, that you ever Pursue your own advantages with others.

Mir.

'Tis true, to the undeserving World, I can perform all this, only to you I am unjust, that never wish A good to you, when I desire most.

Prin.

I hardly understand you: if I do, The world is more oblig'd to you than I.

Mir.

Such a strange Character, my fate Has thrown upon me, yet my selfe, And all that World, which seems so much Beholding to me more than you, Are as much lesse in my esteem, As are the sands unto the mingled jewells, The Negro brings up from the Deep together.

Prin.

Is there a possibil••y to know, Your meaning then?

Mir.

You should, if I were sure you would for∣give it, Yet thus much take in guesses. Could Shades be sen∣sible, And wish the embraces of the Sun, were not that Lamp, Injur'd by that which lov'd it, could rude beasts Be passionate for Empire, and not injure The Throne because they lov'd it. 'Tis I That am more dark then all those shades, You brighter then that Sun; 'Tis I That am that Beast rob'd of all reason. And you above all Empires; I have acknowledg'd My unsuspected guilt, because t'was so, And though I cannot leave my Love, I may my Life.—

Prin.

You have done more than given me leave to guesse, And since I have my selfe been guilty too, In giving you the occasion I shall forbear Such a displeasure as is due, and let you know. T'was easie too for me to erre, that could so little Imagine you to be so guilty: I shall adde Only thus much, that as you valew My presence or esteem, repeat no more Any thing of this nature—Come let's on:

Exeunt Princess and Atten∣dants.

Mir.

So Merchants for a tempting ven∣ture Bankrupt themselves; yet what wealth had I Before I knew my poverty from her?

'Tis nothing I have lost, the difference is, That I have something now I wish to lose,

Hyp.

She is not, Sir, a greater enemy, To your content, than you are to your selfe: 'Tis you enlarge her frowns by fancied fears,

Mir.

Those that are free from danger, my Hyp∣pasus. May look and wonder at another's fears, That is environd with it: 'tis Concern That is the excuse for Passion; were you my Rivall, The Counsell would be juster if you gave it, —Come we must not stay behind,— Ther's nothing but a Lover pleas'd with sufferings. All other rigors of this World, Our wishes and endeavours still oppose, The Prisoner hates his bolts, whilst he remains Pleas'd not so much with sreedom as his chains.

[Exeunt

ACT 1. SCEN 3.

Enter Phylanter solus.

Phyl.

TRust me a little, Fortune, with my self, I do not ask thy aide grow big my hopes, And swell unto a Throne, To Crown my Love, and my Ambition on; From thence I'le view the thing cal'd Honesty,

And grieve 'tis so contemn'd, and ought to be. —Man is like pliant Wax, That yields unto a fair Impression, Though sent not from the noblest Metall: And, in this world, it bears an equall show To seem but onely honest, or be so. And when the Crown's once gain'd, there needs no fears: Crimes change their natures then, or Men change theirs. —Dye—Scruples—in my thoughts, And let my mind be a preposterous grave, That bore you first, to bury you again: —and your base issue—Fear— Dye too, when Beauty and a Crown's so near. —Lycespes welcome; what news?

Enter Lycespes.

Lyces.

All as you would have it, Sir: The Troop is march'd, and stays you in the VVood, Between this and the Castle.

Phyl.

Let's follow then; For Time's a busie Offerer of our Interests To every check of Fortune.

Lyces.

VVe make some threescore Horse, VVhich will be three Divisions; one for each Port.

Phyl.

Let Martianus command the last. As we go, I'le give you perfect Orders. I wish they had some means to cherish a Resistance, That he may help to his own ruine; He must not live to plead his innocence. But Time, that never will be staid, Calls us to act what we have scarcely waigh'd.

[Exeunt.

ACT. 1. SCEN. 4.

Enter Princesse, Philena, Mironault.

Prin.

YOu're welcome now, my Lord, and I desire No clowd may dwell on any brow; Let no such prejudice happen amidst our sports.

Mir.

If you be not obey'd, admired Princesse, Where you command, it is extreamly strange; And yet, I fear, 'tis possible.

Prin.

As possible it is I may suspect my power. But, my Lo••d, I had forgot to put you in remem∣brance Of perfec•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 storie you began, As you 〈…〉〈…〉 it, of unhappy Lovers.

Mir.

The Princesse, Madam, Was taken by Phylanter, whose great valour, Shewn in that day, deserv'd all Prisoners: To whom he nobly offer'd Liberty, Without a Ransome, or Acknowledgment Unlesse to you. Before she thank't him, She made enquiry for the Prince, my Prisoner; As if she knew not how to use Freedom nor life without him; and by reason That he was full of wounds, Phylanter Waited upon her to my Tent; at the first sight Of him she so much lov'd, cover'd with wounds, She stood amaz'd, perhaps too wish'd her self

What she appear'd, but a dead Statue. At the same time he rais'd his feeble eyes, Which seem'd to take unkindly her delay. At that she came, and kneeling by him, Made such expressions of unfeigued grief, That though we understood not what she said, Yet that was plain enough. He now grew speechless, (And she almost) yet still with signes, That seem'd expressions of more trouble. For leaving her then all the world Within her arms, he died; she but stayed To be assur'd that he was dead. Then with a haste, That shew'd a willingnesse to follow him, She drew a Viall from her bosom, And drank it off, before that we could hinder her; Whose violence, on an enfeebled heart By so much grief, with unbelieved haste, Wrought Execution.

Prin.

Poor Princesse! 'twas her hard fate to love;

She had been else no more concern'd, Than those that now survive.

Mir.

And she perhaps as unconcern'd to dye.

Nothing but a deserving Love Could have taught her a way so glorious To end all cares. She now enjoys him too, Or else insensible that e're she lost him.

Prin.

Did that young Prince command that day the Army?

Mir.

Yes, and, as we learnt, he was the Heir

To the Tartarian Empire.

Prin.

'Tis nothing but a Prince Could have been so unhappy to lose at once His Love, his Life, his Empire.

[Enter hastily Hyppasus, Lysander. Hyppasus takes Mironault aside.

Hyp.

My Lord—

Mir.

Ha

Hyp.

Let not the Princesse see it:

The Castle is surrounded by a Troop of Souldiers, Commanded by Phylanter; I fear you are their aim.

Mir.

I?

Hyp.

You may guesse the causes, Jealousie and Baseness.

Think, or you'r lost.

Mir.

Ha—'tis very happy.

Pys.

I don't understand that.

Mir.

I'le presse them nobly: Are they many?

Hyp.

They are divided, as we guesse. The gates are yet kept shut.

Pys.

I'le go view, and ins••antly return.

[Exit.

Mir.

The Devill on the mischief! if their aim

Be towards me, it must be for my life. A Parly cannot save me, I am resolv'd To sell it.

Phil.

Upon my life, Madam, there's some disorder.

View but the eyes of Mironault.

Prin.

My Lord, why are you mov'd?

Mir.

I, Madam?

Prin

Pray, Sir, let me entreat of you the cause.

Hyp.

Nothing that ought to give you trouble, Madam,

There's something that requires The presence of my Lord without.

Prin.

If there be any that would speak with him, They shall be here dispatcht.

Hyp.

That cannot be, Madam.

Prin.

Come, my Lord. There's something I can guesse at (if I be not de∣ceiv'd) That does assure me, I may command you. What business breeds this alteration?

Mir.

I dare not disobey you; The Castle is surrounded by Phylanter With Troops of Soldiers; and, as we guesse, My life's their aim.

Prin.

The Castle surrounded! and your life their aim? It is impossible: they dare not think it. I will go see their rudenesse.

Mir.

Not for the world, they know that you are here: And their intents they'l act unto their power.

Prin.

Is there a better way?

Mir.

Yes any, rather than dye tamely,

Pysa.

For heaven's sake, Sir, resolve: Phy∣lanter's now,

Enter Pysan∣der.

Forcing the gates, being denied entrance For all his Souldiers, who loudly now Call you, A Traitor. Upon one side Which I'le conduct you to, it is most probable You may escape—.

Prin.

Ah me!

Mir.

May I believe, (fair wonder of your Sex) That though your cruelty designes my fate, Yet you're displeas'd, that these should be The Executioners? I shall then dare

To oppose all their furies, that my Life May be Love's sacrifice alone; forgive me too, If I dare own that Love, you frown upon. You need not scruple to grant this—, To any that must aske no more. And may that peace, you give my dying thoughts, For ever live with yours—.

Prin.

Pray say no more, think of your safety,

Mir.

See, she weeps—. With pitty ever dwells forgivenesse too, My wishes then are crown'd, and I can have No greater, unlesse that it were possible, I might hope more and live.

Prin.

O Mironault!— So much confusion mingles with my thoughts, I know not what to say; and yet I wish That you might live, and cannot be displeas'd, Though hope should be the cause.

Mir.

So Saylers in a sinking vessell, May see a calm begin—. This treacherous world, Never wants mischiefs to prevent The greatest blessings that are near-approaching, To crown man's greedy wishes.— But I mistake, to doubt that Life Which you have given leave I should enjoy. Who only have the power of it. This shall witnesse,

[Draw.

How much I covet to preserve, What you wish safety to; nor is it possible, That I should unsuccessfull prove,

That have no other use for life but love;

[Exeunt.

Prin.

The gods protect and guide you, O Phylena, What's to be done?

Phy.

Collect your self, dear Madam, all may be well, Let's to a window, that o're-looks that side, Where they intended to break forth.

Prin.

I dare not see him fall.

Phy.

Fear not Madam, Heaven will preserve. So fair a Life, that has your prayers too.

Prin.

Hark, they are ingag'd, lets see if it be possible,

A noise of fighting.

To give him more assistance than our wishes.

[Exeunt.

ACT 1. SCEN 5.

Enter Mironault wounded,

[A noise.

Mir.

STay hasty drops, not to preserve The life that does pursue you. But the blest shrine, where Mirramente dwells, See, 'tis not my wishes stayes the purple current: Man's still most near to dye, when he would live, And live when he would dye; calamity, And, the more dangerous extream, prosperity Commits this violence upon mens wishes. Yet since the gods denied for either cause To destroy life, or to protect;

In stead of Choice, we should oppose Neglect. Hark, the noise increases still.

[Noise.

—sure they are lost— They fought it nobly, though, if my ears Deceive me not, I hear some comming.

Enter Hyp∣pasus and Pysander.

Ha Hyppasus and Pysander! Then I am happy in spight of all mis∣fortunes.

Hyp.

Dear Sir, you cut your way so nobly, We should have reach'd you sooner else.

Pys.

And so we had Sir, but two or three good∣fellows Still s••aid us upon conference—

Mir.

Well, here's no staying, we must forward; But whither, Heaven knows; 'twas an unworthy action.

Pys.

For the honorable part of the story, Wee'l, if you please, comment upon it hereafter. In the mean time, 'tis more needfull to observe What a condition we are in to help one another. Hyppasus would make dainty whistles, My bones are already rattles: The best house of receipt I know would be an Hos∣pitall. A noise again—On, good Sir.

Hyp.

The most by-ways must guide us.

Mir.

Heaven direct us—

Pys.

O what a speech could I now make Of this frail world. But however, I'le not stay now to do it.

[Exeunt.

ACT 1. SCEN. 6.

Enter Princesse, Philena.

Prin.

HE cannot sure escape.

Phy.

Rather believe he must, there is a better fate Reserv'd for so much worth. Our hopes are now The policy as well as justice of our hearts. You know we did discern, how o're the plain Some hasted single, and Pylander said, they were divided. At first you saw how fast he made his way, Triumph and Danger waiting on his Sword. The villains too, like dull opposing clowds, Gave way to the fair Sun; And then Phylanter Was on the other side.

Prin.

Alas, Phylena, Fears are so powerfull, That in concerned breasts they govern all.

Phyl.

It is our follies that enthrones them so; And to just wishes hopes are much more due: Use them, dear Madam—

Prin.

I need not blush, Phylena, to confesse, (And yet I shall, whilst I am doing it) That I have more concern for him Than others have. VVhen you know this, You will not judge your counsell then So easie to be followed—

Phil.

Pardon me, Madam, if I confesse, That I believ'd as much when I advis'd you.

I have had many reasons for such thoughts From yours, though greater from his vertues.

Prin.

O Phylena, advise me how to do, not how to grieve. I see I must be forc'd to a hard exigent, To let him perish, or in his relief To appear too concern'd, though not too just.

Phyl.

Your reason, Madam, will not have leave To decide that; 'tis Love will be the judge Of all his dangers. But now, Madam, VVhat is the next thing we must act? Or must we suffer too?

Prin.

Nay, Heaven knows; I sent one to enquire. Now—what's the matter?

[Enter a Servant.

Ser.

They say, Madam, they came for Mironault, Who had designes upon your Highnesse.

Prin.

And have they taken him?

Ser.

No; but we hope they will. He has left abundance hurt and dead.

Prin.

Go, be gone you fool; you are all suspitious rascalls, Fain would be thought State-wise.

Ser.

Madam.

Prin.

Be gone, you hoping Coxcomb. There's something more in this, Phylena.

Phyl.

I cannot guesse, unlesse it be Phylanter's jea∣lousie, Urg'd by your constant favours unto Mironault.

Prin.

Its possible. Hark, a noise; we shall be more inform'd.

Enter Phy∣lanter, and, being half enter'd, speaks

Phyl.

—Escap'd— Now by the gods your lives shall pay for all.

You dogs and Cowards— —Madam, I humbly crave your pardon, My passion makes me hasly, when your Cause Gives the just anger.

Prin.

My cause, Sir?

Phyla.

Excellent Princesse, Yours; for this foul man That seem'd to pay his duty to you, Bore in his breast a traiterous designe Here to surprise you; which I hearing of, Straight hasted to prevent it, though my fate Was too unhappy in the losse of him.

Prin.

Ha!

Phyl.

But let—

Prin.

Dost, thou not blush, or blush for me at least, That I have let thee injure Truth thus long▪ And wrong'd an innocence, which never dwelt Within thy infant breast? Stay not to reply, But leave me with your tumults.

[Exit.

Phyl.

Then I am lost; my last stroak now I'le strike, And strike it bravely too—Despair, Thou ha's the noblest issues of all ill, Which frailty brings us to, for to be worse We fear not, and who cannot lofe Is ever a franck Gamester. Nor will I fall alone, should he enjoy her, I should repining dye. Envie's the vice That never leaves us till we fall from that, The best ompanion of a hastie fate: I'le cherish it as others would a Vertue. He that declines himself—

—when Chance or Fortune has declin'd him first, He learns of those mean helpers to do worst.

[Exit.