University of Virginia Library

The Fifth Act.

Enter Messenger and Nurse.
Nurse.
How Sir? Did Cunopes assist you then
To bring my Lady back?

Messen.
Yes, but he stood a long time in Suspence,
And scarce would have return'd, had not two men
(Who cross'd the way in hast) acquainted us
That not far off the Prince had in the Wood
Surpriz'd Philander fighting with his Cosin.

Nurse.
Alas! Poor Gentleman.

Mess.
This newes made him hope,
He might be pardon'd, then he assum'd Courage
And with Leucippe's help we have brought home
Celania, though distracted.

Nurse.
Blessing on your heart.
VVe have some hopes she soon will be recover'd,
The Prince's Phisitian gives the Provost Comfort,
He sayes Philander's and her want
Of sleep caus'd her distemper: He prescrib'd,
A Cordial, which by this time she has taken
To force her to a slumber.

Mess.
They are entring.

Nurse.
I dare not stay to see her! 'Las poor Lady:
I cannot look upon her without weeping.
[Ex. Nurse.

Enter Provost, Celania, Leucippe and Cunopes.
Prov.
O! May the Cordial rectify her Sences,
Or mine will Else unsettle, I shall grow
Distracted with her Madness: as if Reason
Might be infected, like related blood.

Celnn.
Have you seen the crop'd Horse Philander gave me?

Cuno.
A Horse? Yes, yes? I thank him too, he did
His good-will to bestow a Horse on me,
A wooden one that must be rid forsooth
With a Halter instead of a Bride.

Celan.
He's a fine Horse, you never saw him dance?

Leuc.
No Madam!

Mess.
Alas poor Lady!

Cela.
He'l dance the Morrice Twenty Mile an hour,
And that will founder the best Hobby-horse in
Aocadia: he gallops to the Tune of Green-sleeves,
What think you of him?

Cuno.
Having these Vertues
I think he might be brought to play at Tennis.

Cela.
Alas that's nothing.

Cuno.
Can he write and read too?
O Yes, a fair hand, and casts himself
Th'account of all his hay and Provender,
That Hostler that does Cozen him must rise betimes.

Cuno.
This Horse has so much reason, I believe
The Projan-Horse begot him whilst he had
So many Men in's belly.

Cela.
The Prince's Chest-nut Mare's in love with him?

Cuno.
VVhat Portion has she?

Cela.
Two hundred bottles of Hay, and twenty Strike
Of Oates: He lisps in his Neighing too, and that entic'd
Her first: but he'l ne'r have her.
How far is't to the VVorlds end?

Cunop.
That's a hard question. Had Philander ne'r bin found,
Agen, I might within these two-dayes
Have bin so much a Traveller as to resolve her,
But as things stand, she may know best her self.
For She's the next dore to't; at her wits end.

Cela.
I must go to the Worlds end, and must meet
Philander there, we shall be ferry'd o're
Into the shades where blessed Spirits walk
To gather Nose-gayes, and sometimes to play
At barley-break.

Mess.
How prettily her Fancy Wanders?

Cela.
They lead a sore life in the other Place,
Burning, Frying, Boyling, Hissing, Cursing,
There some are put in Cauldrons full of Lead,
And Usurer's grease amongst a Million
Of Cutpurses, and there boyle like a Gammon
Of Bacon that will never be enough.

Prov.
Alas, will the Cordial never Work?

Cela.
Here she Sings.
[That done, she lies down and fals a sleep.

Provost
Sayes.
At last it has prevail'd—
—Oh in Mercy Heaven to day,
Restore her Senses or take mine away.

[Exeunt bearing Celania out.
Enter Arcon.
Arcon.
My Neice whilst she refuses to disclose
Which she affects, does both to death expose,
But I've contriv'd a means to end the strife,
And saving one, destroy the others life.
If by her Love their fate cannot be known,
It shall be soon discover'd by their own;
I've sent to try their Honour and their Love,
He who possesses most of both, shall prove
His own absolver, and who ever shall
Merit the least will best deserve to fall.

Enter Heraclia.
Hera.
Though I was once resolv'd to let e'm dye,
The Princes temper I agen will try.
I then for neither any pitty felt,
But now I find that resolution melt.
For one of e'm I needs must intercede,
Yet for the other I alike shou'd plead.

Arcon.
She comes! I'le try her! Welcom my fair, Neice.
Come you to bring Philander a Release
Or Theocles! Which chuse you?

Hera.
Sir, I come
To Implore that you would mitigate their Doom.

Arcon.
My Justice and my Mercy in me strive,
Both to destroy and both to keep alive.

Hera.
Both to destroy would look like Cruelty.

Arcon.
In saving both I should too Gentle be.

Hera.
I'm disoblig'd if you take eithers life,
Because their Love to me begot their strife.

Arcon.
This Intercession must proceed from Love.
[Aside.
Else so importunate she could not prove
Yet then methinks, she but for one should sue,
Affection never hovers betwixt two,
I'le try which way her Inclination lyes,
If either she affects the other dyes.

Hera.
Why are you silent Sir? your mercy may
Be shown without consulting or delay.

Arcon.
My Justice bids me neither to respect,
But when I do on Theocles reflect,
My Justice into Mercy does relent,
To save him I could easily consent.

Hera.
Have you forgot Philander's manly lookes,
And with what Courage he misfortune brookes?
Valour enthron'd upon his brow does sit,
Commanding pitty yet disdaining it;
So brave a Spirit who could not forgive!
By scorning Life he more deserves to live.

Arcon.
Pardon should to entreating looks be shown;
Philander's Face presents us threats alone.
He has no winning Feature to allure:
He has wherewith to kill but not to cure.

Hera.
Though killing frowns sit on his fore-head now,
He when he pleases can unbend his brow;
And then his Face which did appear e're while
All overcast; cleares up into a smile.
His Face would make a VVinter and a Spring,
What his frowns nipt, his smiles to life would bring.

Arcon.
Now I'm a little satisfi'd, I know
[Aside
On whom my Justice rightly to bestow;
Poor satisfaction made of Grief and Joy
To be instructed whom I may destroy.
Heraclia! I must needs approve your choice,
Philander highly does deserve your Voice.

Hera.
How Sir?

[Starts.
Arcon.
His sadness does become him well,
Pleasure does in his graver Aspects dwell.
Theocles then must dye.

Hera.
Theocles dye?
The man whom you but now extoll'd so high?
Your voice exhalts his worth before he dyes,
As beasts are garnisht for a Sacrifice:
How can you Sir, brave Theocles conceive,
Too good to dye, and yet too bad to live.

Arcon.
My Commendations only were design'd
To try which way your Fancies was inclin'd;
And since you do Philander's worth approve,
Straight Theocles must yeild his Life and Love.

Hera.
Shall his bright glories in their East decline,
And must they set before they fully shine?

Arcon.
Now my destraction's greater then before,
[Aside.
Hoping to make it less I've made it more;
Her Fancy's at a loss, and knows not whom
To choose: 'Tis like a gazing Cuild become:
Which when two toyes alike do please his eye,
Cannot distinguish but for both does cry.
Yet she shall see her Rival-Lovers try'd,
Her kindness through some blush may be descry'd.
Polynicis! How find you them inclin'd?

Enter Polynices, Philander, Theocles and Guards.
Polyn.
Your Trial Sir will best disclose their mind:
According to your orders here they are:
Both alike hope, and both alike despair.

Arcon.
The strange affection which in both I see,
I can admire, but cannot remedy;
Both Love her whom you both cannot possess,
Whilst neither more affects, and neither less.
Both being kindl'd with such equal fires,
Each to the other's prejudice conspires,
Theocles makes Philander's hope in vain,
Who equally does Theocles restrain;
My resolution staggers into doubt,

Polyn.
The hand of Fortune may perhaps find out
The most deserving, and whom Fates decree
To be most happy they by Lottery
May so reveal as may your doubts remove,
Blind chance oft guides in blind intrigues of Love.

Arcon.
Are you content that Fortune shall decide
This intricate dispute.

Phil.
I'le not be try'd
By chance, Fortune has cruel been to me,
VVhich makes me now defie her Courtesie.
Sir, I have felt her Injuries so long,
That I presume in this she'd do me wrong:
I have so long contemn'd her frowning Brow,
That for a smile I scorn to Court her now.

Hera.
Bravely resolv'd.

Arcon.
But, Theocles, do you
Refuse to trust your Cause with Fortune too?

Theo.
This Ladies beauty, and the Judge assign'd,
Both inconsistent are,
Why should a Judge so altogether blind
Bestow a prize so fair.

Phila.
We scorn the hands of Fortune, and alone
Request we may decide it with our own;
Let's fight it out.—

Theo.
The Sword must end the strife, and the same Bell
Ring one his Wedding and the other's Knell.

Arcon.
Neither does to his Rival yet give place,
Nor any Index in Heraclia's Face
Does yet discover which she does affect;
She knows not which to chuse nor to reject.
Will you then both remit it to her choice,
And either be contented if her voice
Elect the other, calmly to resign
His Title.

Phila.
Calmly, Sir? If she incline
To Theocles then let her bid me dye,
And willingly I'le on her voice rely.
Let the same Breath bless him, and me destroy,
'Tis not so much to live as to enjoy.

Polyn.
'Tis bravely spoken!

Hera.
His last charming Breath
H'as almost won my Love by courting Death.

Arcon.
His words have mov'd her, in her Face I find
She quickly to Philander will be kind.
But what sayes Theocles?

Theo.
I only crave,
That if she bless Philander with her Bed,
She wou'd in pitty bless me with the Grave.
Why should I live after my hopes are dead?
If her enliv'ning smile his Love shall Crown,
I beg the mercy of some killing frown.
Let her Eyes lighten and destroy me so,
I shall be happy in the shades below:
Where in some mellancholly Cypress Grove,
Transform'd into a Ghost I'le alwayes Love,
As well as Ghosts may do, for there I will
Be blest in Courting her Idea still.

Hera.
I'me lost agen—

Arcon.
Ha! she's concern'd! it was an Error then
To think she lov'd Philander, yet I'le make
Some farther trial, least I should mistake.
Go call in the men.

Polyn.
Royal Sir I shall.—
[Ex. Polyn.

Hera.
What can these be whom he in hast does call?
One of my Servants? VVhat can they design
By introducing any man of mine?

Enter Polynices with two men.
Polyn.
VVhat is't that you of Theocles can say?

1. Man.
That he disguis'd himself in mean array
To be admitted in the Princess Train,
Hoping an opportunity to gain
Of singling out her person, when she shou'd
Be hunting next within Diana's Wood.
Having resolv'd first do convey her hence,
Then to assault that Love by violence:
Which by his courtship he might well despair of gaining.

Phil.
These thy black aspersions are
As false as Theocles to honour true.
He offer violence? O! Heavens can you
Permit this Blasphemy? can you endure
To see so black a cloud his worth obscure?
Which wou'd (but that he does unjustly Love)
So bright appear, as wou'd all envy move.

Arcon.
Can you be guilty Sir of this attempt?

Theo.
Sir.—

Phil.
From such designs I'me sure he is exempt.

Arcon.
Will you your Rival vindicate?

Phila.
I must; else to his honour I shou'd be unjust.

Theo.
Cousin you are too Civil.

Hera.
Methinks I see
The brightness of Philander's Worth increase,
Whilst he would clear the worth of Theocles.
Now my respects more evident will grow:
The World Philander's equal cannot show.

Arcon.
I see she fixes on Philander; yet
I'le try her somewhat further. Friend, repeat
What of Philander you but now confess'd.

2. Man.
Philander Sir deserves not to be bless'd
With such a Lady.

Phila.
Villain?—

Arcon.
Calm your rage.
And let your reason passion now asswage,
Till you have heard him out: let him proceed.

2. Man.
His Glory's are all sully'd by a deed
As black as she is fair: for he has shown
A Cowardise, which he will blush to own.

Theo.
Detracting Villaine, could Philander fly
Each motion of his Sword gives thee the lye,
Whose lightning took perhaps thy sight a way,
As Bats and Owls are dazl'd with the day:
That Sword which brandish'd made all others quake,
Blinded thy Eye-sight into this Mistake.

Polyn.
How equally these Miracles of men do
Share in Honour?—

Hera.
I'm lost agen!
O Theocles, a parallel to thee
Can be produc'd by no Chronology.

Arcon.
Ha! my Confusion then must still remain;
My Tryals do but more destraction gain.
They are equally deserving and belov'd,
—But if perhaps Philander were remov'd
On Theocles, She then may fix her mind,
Which unconstant now, and unconfin'd.
Polynices! Convey Philander hence.

Phil.
Wherein have I committed more offence
Then Theocles, that I no longer may
Have equal Happiness by equal stay?

Polyn.
Stand not disputing Sir, you must away.

[Ex. Polin. with Phil.
Enter Provost, Celan. Leu. Cunopes, at another door.
Arcon.
Provost, you are welcom. 'Tis some joy to me
That such fair Weather in your face I see.

Prov.
If I appear serener then before,
It is because kind Fortune does restore
My long lost daughter to me, and to her
Those wandring Senses which distracted were.

Hera.
I heard she was return'd, but that which you
Relate of her distraction never knew.

Celan.
You have falsely sed
That I shou'd find Philander here: He's dead,
Ay me he's walking in some pleasant shade
Amongst the Ghosts, singing the songs he made
Concerning Love.

Prov.
O Where's Philander Sir?
She will relapse agen, if we defer
To bring her to him.

Arcon.
Some of you make hast,
To bring Philander back.

[Ex. for Philander.
Cela.
Now does he through each pleasant meddow go,
And then he walks through all the Groves below,
Where when his Eyes shine brightly through the Glades,
The Ghosts may walk in Groves, but not in shades.

Prov.
His speedy presence must her sence restore,
Or it will farther wander then before.

Enter Polynices, Philander, and Guards.
Cela.
Ha! Can Philander yet be living, no?
He's not above, but I am sure below.
Amongst the blessed Spirits and at most,
I do but now behold Philanders Ghost.
Alas, why fly you Sir? Can Ghosts be coy?
Or is't because none can Ghosts enjoy.

Hera.
I see;
Except Philander there's no remedy.

Celan.
I'le follow you through every Mirtle grove,
Through all the thickest Labyrinths of Love,
As shaddows alwayes with the Substance move.

Phil.
Madam—

Hera.
Clania I have done you Wrong,
And have suffer'd by my fault too long.

Arcon.
Now I'm well instructed to proceed:
I see to whom Heraclia is decreed,
The Controversy I shall soon decide,
Both now shall live and both be gratify'd,
Here Theocles? on you I will bestow.
Heraclia!

Phil.
Ha!

Theo.
Will she her self say so?

Hera.
Celania to Philanders Love does lay
So great a Claim that I must needs obey;
Sir, you have my Consent. I cannot defer
To give my self least I should injure her.

Theo.
Then I am happy made to that degree,
That the most Fortunate should envy me.

Phil.
Must I be to Heraclia lost?

Arcon.
You must,
Else to Celania you will be unjust.

Hera.
I weep when I your obstinacy see,
And Sigh when I remember her. Good Sir,
Permit my tears to quench your Flames to me,
And let my sighs kindle your Love to her.

Prov.
Her Reason has to Love a Martyr bin,
O let your Pity give it life agen!

Phil.
My heart did first Heraclia's captives prove,
To her, I am oblig'd in bonds of love.
Celania gave my person liberty
To her by honour I shou'd grateful be,
I owe myself to both, what shall I doe
To be to Love, and yet to honour true.

Theo.
Cosin, the Princess does her self bestow
On me, so that whatsoever debt you say,
You, in affection, still to her may owe,
You are oblig'd in honour not to pay.

Phil.
'Tis true—she has forsaken me—

Polyn.
You may
Without Entrenching on your Love defray
The debt you owe to honour, since you see
The Princess from the other sets you free.

Arcon.
Stand not demurring Sir, give me your hand,
With that I doubt not but I shall Command
Celania into health, See how her Eye
Is fix'd on you as on her remedy.

Cela.
What do I feel? Can apparitions be
So liable to Sence?—Or is it he, and living still?
Speak, Sir, may we with truth conceive
That you still live, I shall your voyce believe
Though I distrust my Sences.

Phil.
I am still
The same Philander which you freed,

Cela.
And Can you love?

Philan.
I, there's the question which I knew she'd move.
Know I can Love, and since that Love does want
Growth in Heraclia's bosom I'le transplant
It into yours.

Cunop.
Mistress I wish you'ld be
As plyant and as mercifull to me.

Leuc.
I am flesh and blood.

Cun.
I would not wed a Ghost.

Leuc.
I cannot see so good a Servant lost.

Hera.
Dear Celania! Nought greater can ensue
My double bliss in Theocles and you.

Theo.
My Admiration and my Love Contest,
Which shall out-vy the other in my breast.

Phil.
My quarrel here with Theocles shall end,
I loose a Rival and Preserve a Freind;
Celania does our Cause of strife remove,
We onely shall contend which most shall love.

Celan.
How much am I to love and Fortune bound!
Finding Philander, I my self have Found.

Arcon.
Those Sences which excessive Grief destroyes,
May be recover'd by excessive joyes.

Ex. Omnes.