University of Virginia Library

SCÆNA 5.

And.
My better Genius thou art welcome, as
A draught of water to a thirsty man,
I ne're had need of thee till now.
Muster those devils dwell within thy breast;
And let them counsel me to a revenge, as great
As is my will to act it.

Lib.
Madam, leave words.
The rest you take in breathing makes your anger cool.
Out with it, and if I do it not, if I startle
At any ill to do you service, though it be to kill my mother,
Let me be troubled with the plague of a tender conscience;
And lye sick of repentance a half year after.

And.
What need I tell thee more? Plangus must dye,
And after him Ephorbas, because he is his father.

Lib.
Madam, he shall. But give me leave to ask you,
How he, for whom alone of all the world you had a passion,
Is now become an object of the hatred, so great,
As others must dye because they have relation to him.

And.
The aire is hot yet with those words
I profferd him in satisfaction.
And he refus'd it, what need I speak?
Is't safe that he should live knows so much by us?

Lib.
He had been happy had he never known what vertue meant.
I wonder that paltry thing is not banisht earth,
It neer did any good yet. Beggeries a blessing to't;
Who ere grew rich by vertue?
Madam, wee are not troubled with it. But to our business,
I have thought a way. You know his father loves him,
Tis he shall ruine him, and lets alone for him.

And.
Pish, pish, that cannot be.

Lib.
These women are alwayes with their Cannots,
What cannot be? have you but read the Sophy?
You will finde that Haly (Oh how I hug that fellow's name)
Ruin'd great Mirza by his father, and his father by his son.
The great Politician while all the Court
Flam'd round about him, sat secure and laught,
Like those throw fire-works among the waving people,
That have nothing but fire and smoke about them,
And yet not sindg one hair. Indeed he fell at last;
'Tis true, but he was shallow in that part oth'plot.
What have we his example but to learn by it?
Praise Plangus to Ephorbas then so far,
That first he may fear for his Kingdome,
And if you do proceed till he grow jealous of his bed,
'Twill do the better.
The King coming, I must be gone.
Exit Lib.

Manet And.