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. 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.