University of Virginia Library

Actus Quarti

Scena 1a.

2 Cittizens.—Beotto—Seruant.
1 Cit.

I wonder why wee were Call'd soe hastily. I
was but Scauanger last yeare, and such inferiours were
neuer Call'd to Councell before

2

I, when the Scarlet-men themselues haue beene
Content to be counted Wise, and say nothing. Theres a
Beotto halfe shau'd, stuck wt h feathers, & a Wooden Sword.
Courtier Lord! what new fashions these Courtyers haue!

1

Hee's the Queen's Iester, I beleiue

2

Like enough. An hee should breake a jest on's now

1

I feare his wooden Dagger More; for our heads
are not easly peirc't with a jest.

Beot.

Are you Cittizens?

2.

Yes S
r.

Beot.

Are you of the Horoscopes, or of y
e 12 Houses?

1

Noe, s
r, I Liue at the Dogg & Porridge Pott.

Beot.

Tis I y
t Diocles told you was to be proclaym'd.

2

I know not what hee meanes!

The Cittz. stare at one another in amazemt.
Beot.

I onely entend to Remoue some Euil Councello
r s, that hinder mee of my Right; that's all. wee must
giue a sudden Assault upon the Queens Chamber, &
Natolions

1.

Wee doe not understand your Worship

Beot.

Be not Affrayd, for I'm Beotto indeed. indeed I am.

1

I doubt wee haue heard Treason, Partner. Let's
remember nothing of what's sayd.

2.

I'm bound to tell my Wife ont; Pray I can hold
till I come home. Mee thinkes hee Lookes like a Rebell.

Seru.

Roome for my Lord Natolion there.

1

Lord Blesse his Ma
t i e; hee's a Worthy man, Sr.

Ser

Well Sirrah, well, Make roome for's Majesty then.

Seruant laughes and strikes him
2

There's some of the Citty, Let's goe to them.

Scena 2a

Natolion. Calidor. Cleander. Dorimant 2 Lords. Captain. Diocles. 4 Cittizens Beotto.
Nat.
I hope your Majesty is satisfyd
With these My cleare intents; And now my Lords
I see your Admiration feeds on mee
As on some Wonder. I confesse my Actions
To the Dimm sighted Uulgar may Exhibite
A front of Treason; but to your cleare Wisdomes
(When well inform'd) I hope they will produce
Noe such Deformed issue. I present here
Crowns him
This token from the Gods, vnto this Crowne.
But how can this be and the Queene aliue?
Whither must shee be bandy'd? what Depose her?
I know you are of such approued Loyalty,
And carrie soe much of yor noble ffathers
About you, that you will not see the Heyre
Of your King want a Crowne while you haue hands;
This Zeale is noble in you. But whose Heart
Beares not a share of those Woes wc h the Plannet
Of the Late Queens Raigne showrd upon the Land?
I would Wee were not Conscious to what Depth
Her Womanish Will, and Leuity, was Like
To plung us all, and Drowne us in our Loyalty.
And Did I not remember that shee was
The Daughter of—my master—O my Lords
Her follyes are to be conceiu'd, not utter'd.
But when I thinke how neare shee was to incest
With this her Princely Brother, my head growes
A tweluemonth Elder. Doe you start to heare
Your King should be the Brother of your Queene?
My Lords, yet doe your old Natolion this Right
To thinke I neuer pluck't away my Sonne
From the Queen's heart nor wisht her from her Thron«*»
T'obtrude a mock-Prince. Tis Lycomedon,
This is the Braue Lycomedon, the true Diamond
That I would putt upon ye Kingdom's ffinger.
Take Wonder to your Soules, till it Consume
This Petty reasoning, yt would rayse new Doubts
If you were Capable of them. Let your Voyces
Carry his Name to Heauen to make a Starre of.
Fy on this Silence—but I craue your Pardon,
For tis noe Maruaile if your Ioy be too bigg
For an Expression. Most heroique Sr
Take yourselfe to you, for you now are fenc't
With walls of Loyalty, and euery Stone
A champion for you.

Henceforward his name is Chang'd
Lycom.
Can you tell
Mee of a Land where Sorrow growes like Weeds,
And I may gather Teares as Morning Dew
And I will thanke you; tell mee of a Land
Where Widowes, Orphans, and forsaken men
Doe Want a King, and I will Chaleng it,
As Heyre Aparant. Tell mee of a Land
Where Tigers, Beares, and Panthers onely Dwell;
And I will there be King; Theyr Saluage Notes
I will reforme and teach 'em how to Weepe,
But Let mee walke a Lazar through the World,
And Begg my Bread, ere with a Kingdome's gaine,
I pro«cure't» here Brother of a Whore. O Gentlemen,
Giue mee not such Alliance. ffirst a Queene
And then my Wife, and now my sister, in all,
A Cunning Ruine to mee.

Nat.
Wee'l take Order
That shee shall proue noe Blemish to yor Crowne.

Lyc.
Yet it is strang that I should be your King,
Is it not Gentleman?

Nat.
Y'are noe Lesse, Sr.
And soe much I dare Speake you. Countrimen
I know you are in Labour with my Words,
But here's the Midwife. your most honourd Skarres
(That cannot Sleepe to Others) Will awake
Your noble Memories that when this Ile
Lay Bared in the Bosom of her sonnes,
And Ciuil Strife, the Bold Sardinian
(That alwayes watch't Aduantage) Landed here
An Army ffull as terible to the State
As our Owne Black Dissentions. On what Heapes
Ruine was mounted then in euery Place,
Where Death Came Galloping on the Back of Horrour,
The Uery Earth will tell you. Nothing heard.
But Lamentations; Althings out of joynt.
Parents forsooke theyr Children; they their Parents,
And this most noble Prince, then but an Infant,
Was by his nurses, and his folke abandon'd,
That House, wherein hee was, all Sack't and Burn't,
And with it our best Hopes, wc h struck soe Deepe
Into those hearts yt were before Diuided
As that it Madded 'em into a Union;
What follow'd? but that with full-gorg'd Reuenge
You did Expulse the fforraigners, and grew ffriends,
To mourne for your owne ffollyes—But you know this.
Now Looke upon the Mercy of the Godds!
For by a Soldyer of noe meane Esteeme
(In Spight and Enuy to the state & us)
This Prince was Carryed to Sardinia;
Where Let his Mat i e now Relate to you
How hee that Bred him Charg'd him on his Death-bed
To Carry noble Thoughts, and Seeke out Honour
For that hee was of noble Birth, and Nation
But would not tell him how nor where. This stucke
Soe neare his heart that hee forsooke Sardinia,
And pitch't his noble Resolution straight
To Lead his ffortunes to the Court of Spayne;
But by the Way was by a Pyrat taken
And Cast upon this shore.

Dor.
And there I found him.

Nat.
Mee thought, when first I cast my Ey upon him,
His ffathers Genius Sate upon his Brow,
And poynted At mee, while I grew all ore
A Sudden Conflict, But in short I found
A Tyme to aske him of his Life & fortune,
Hee told mee as y' haue heard; if then at first
I were a Conflict, I was now a Tempest;
My mind was a true Augure, and I made
A Certaine Triall, «f**» by a state Wile,
I made him show his Bosom, where you know,
And all the World hath heard An Armed Hand
Was fixt, by nature on that Prince, who is
Noe Other then this Image of his ffather.
Veiw your Owne Doubt, and make your misbeleife
Blush. Is it soe? Then here I draw a Sword
Which shall not sleepe untill the Proudest Knee
Kneeles
Be in its right Place.

All.
Long may Hee raigne, A King.

1 Lor.
My Lord, wee are Conuinct. And All I hope
Returne theyr Thankes with mee, unto ye Gods
And you for all our Happinesse. Great Sr
Although Wee seem'd to stick in wonder's Throate,
Yet now the Core is up, And wee will Serue you;
Nor let us suffer as Traytor s to ye Queene,
For shee is none, (you Liuing) And beleiue Sr,
(What ere her ffaults be,) were I not perswaded
You were the Lawfull Heire I'd Loose this Hand,
Ere draw it from her Throne.

Lyc.
I thanke you All.

All.
Heauen protect your Majesty.

They All Doe Homage.
2 Lord.
Captaine

Beotto Busles, as ready to Make his Claime, and wt h much adoe is pulld Back by Dioc. & ye Captaine.
Cap.
My Lord!

2 Lo.
This Coronation must not then be huddle'd.
2 Lo: whispers aside with the Capt:
Howere they carrie't now. your Lord Phocillus
(If hee were here) would Bluster

Cap.
Tis somewhat strang.

Dioc.

Beotto! you sneaking Rog«ue.» The Horoscopes
are not Come.—Fore goe, Couz, if the Rogue
clayme the Crowne now, wee shall be both hang'd.
Tis noe playing w
t h new Princes «Titles».

Beot.

I must Speake now or neuer

Di.

Plague on you, Sneake out—Doe long to dye
oth Hempe?

Beotto offers to goe & ye two Cittizens stay him.
1 Citt.

you traytour to his Ma
t i e stay

Dio.

you s
r, Speake Softly; for its Treason if the King heare you

The Cittizens Speake uery Low.
2 Citt.

Hee is a Trayto
r: Hee sayd hee would besett the Kings & my Lord Natolion's Chamber

Dio.

May wee not Entreate for him?

2 Citt.

Noe S
r, This Discouery may be worth ye Kings Custom to us.

Dio.

Right Rogues! What shall Wee doe Cous? This
ffoole haz told em something that may come to Choakes.
You had best to be heard of putting your Head too neare
the King, you Cuckoldes «**» goe your Wayes Beotto—
I'l teach you (S
r. What Lack you) to slander the Kings officers.

Exit Beotto
2 Citt.

Why what is hee?

Dio.
Sr «the» Kings Whaiter, whom you Cannot Answere
They might haue Spoild all, Cous; I'l plot noe more,
I hold my neck ont.

Lycomedon stand upon the Throne.
Lycom.
You are Content I shall Raigne ouer you?

All.
Tis all our Happinesse.

Lyc.
Then by that Honour
Which is as Deare to Princes, as theyr Crownes
Your Lawes shall be my Rule. The Stiffe shall find
I am an Oke; The Meeke a Lawrell Bough
Kisses the Crowne
To keepe the Thunder from 'em. I espouse
Virtue vnto this Wreath of Cares you giue mee;
Nor will I Let my Sword of justice see
For to Distinguish Persons. If Sterne Warre
Bellow mee forth, be sure I will or Dy
Or Conquer with you. But my Lords, Conceiue
I will not Rule to Halues. And therefore, you
My Lord Natolion (Though you are the Atlas
That tooke mee up, and sett mee in this Heauen)
I must take Order that you be secur'd,
ffor when my sister Ruld, you were the King.
My Lord I feele that with Emperiall Power
Suspition of a King too's crept into mee,
And former Merits must not weigh with it;
For though you now are firme, yet for some Grudge
You that haue Made mee [haue] may unmake mee too.

Nat.
You will not Recompence my Seruice thus?

Lycom.
Is it not fitt it should be soe my Lord?
I doe Appeale to your Owne Politique Principles.
Conuay him to the Castle where hee may
Be nobly us'd, and with all due obseruance,
But sure from starting

Nat.
Not a Uoyce From Heauen
Could Come more Welcome to mee. 'Tis my Ioy
To See the King worke in you. Gentlemen,
Be Loyall to this braue this Royall yong Man
The Hope of Kingdomes, Enuy of our Neighbours.
For mee, I could not doe much good to you
In Councell, and will noe hurt in my Prayers.

Clean.
Rare Example.

Lyco.

Gentlemen, I haue Layd the Touch-stone soe
happily to your Loues, that I shall not need to feare yo
r Loyaltyes. Be what you haue Begun And I shall not-
fayle to be what you would desyre, a just Prince. I
returne my Thankes to the Citty. And for this Tyme
dismisse you.

All.

Heauen blesse your Majesty!

Scena 3a.

Lady. Lycomedon. Cleander Dorimant.
La:

May it please your Majestie The Late Queene yo
r sister, in this her Weakenesse with one Lady onely, and
her Vnfortunate Babe is Pri«**»tly in Disguise stole away
this last Night, and fledd. This Letter Directed
to the Lords I trust will more fully satisfy your
Majestie.

Lyc.
Lay not this Injurie to my Charge, you Gods
For I am innocent. For heauen's sake sirs
Goe fetch this poore Distressed Creature Back,
For shee Was once a Queene. Shee is my Sister
How e're shee sinn'd.
Cleander reades the Letter.
My Lords!
I am soe Equally plac't betwixt Pitty, and Shame,
that I hope I shall not draw much from either;
But if it be Lawfull for mee to use the sacred
Name of the Deityes, I call 'em all to Wittnesse
I was neuer Acquainted with the Carnall Act of
man howsoeuer they haue Delt with mee; Which
yet was noe Warrant for you to Depose mee. But
I haue Tyme enough to greiue without Calling my
Injuries to Mind yet. The Gods forgiue them of
whom I haue not Deserued thus much. My Kingdome
I Leaue to my Brother, (if hee bee soe) My Shame
I take along with mee; And Ariste, who of soe
many Thousands hath remayned Loyall to her most
unfortunate Mistresse.

The Neglected Achæa.

Lyc.
How? That agen! Neuer Knew Man! you Gods
You haue new Borne mee to a Land of Woe,
And Swathe mee now in Wonders. Neuer Knew Man!
My Lords it Cannot be

Dor.
I thinke soe Sr.

Lyc.
Perhapps the Deity of a holy streame—
Or Bacchus, as hee Once Deceiu'd Erigone
Might doe this to her. Good my Lords Employ
Your Diligent Enquirie; I doe feare
Wee Wrong the Gods in this.

Dor.
I goe my Lord.

Lyc.
Did euer Woman take this Oath before?
Tis Past beleife—My Sweetest Sister;, Welcome.
What in a fflood? O doe not bring my Ioy
Thus Drest in Teares. Thy Eyes are Rich enough
Without these Pearles. Why Weepst thou? I haue greiu'd
Enough for our unhappy sisters' ffault;
Let not those Enuious Dropps barre mee thy Sight
For I'm thy Brother.

Scena 4a.

Antiope. Lycomedon. Phocillus
Antiope and Phocillus kneele. Phocillus Sword all Bloody.
Cleander. Attendants.
Ant.
Be one to mee then Sr.

Lycom.
Not on your Knees O Sister.

Ant.
Lower Sr.
To gaine a Life that I haue Long brought up
A Play fellow with my Owne, and now th'are married.
This noble Lord, by mee, would begg your Pardon.
Look on him Sr And you'l discouer something
That is not us'd to Craue

Lyc.
His Sword haz gott
An ill Complexion. Tis not murther?

Ant.
If it be
Y'haue Mercy sr enough. It was his Chance
To Kill Alceus, yet hee did it Brauely.
Natolion was the Cause; Who pulling them
Both in a Roome, forgott that ffire, and Water
Were not «****» Mortall Enemyes

Lyc.
O Sister!
Is it for this your Eyes doe melt in Teares?
Rise, rise and take my Loue. By this Chast Kisse
There's nothing in my Power thou mayst not haue;
Takes off his Signet & giues her
Behold I giue my Signet, from my Hand
In token of my Loue; But this same Lord
Is rash and Desperate. Reueng, wc h is
Passion in others, is in him, the Soule;
It is not in my Power to Pardon him

Ant.
You will not Sr, Be Cruell.

Ly.
I cannot pardon him.
Wee that are Kings must giue the Law his Right
Euen to a Brother. And you know that Duells
By it are justly Punished with Death.
Alas how Can I grant it?

Ant.
Tis the first fault
Committed in your Reigne.

Ly.
And therefore is
First to be Punish't. Prince's[se] Early Mercy
Is an Abortiue, and Emboldens Crimes
I must doe Iustice.

Pho.
Which I spurne
Thus, with my Life O that those Pretious Drops
And Sweet Ayre should be hurl'd against a Rock!
My Loue, my Life, I scorne his Miserie
His Pardon is too Base to Saue a Hound by.

Ant.
Sweet Loue forbeare.

Pho.
O that I had the Lightning in my Hand!
Or Could Speake Death to thy Accursed marrow!
But I will turne my Speech to Heaun it Selfe,
Heare mee, yee Starres; The Life wc h you doe gouerne
Shall neuer be indebted to this Mock-King.

Lyc.
You cannot make mee Angry. Pray 'ee Sister
Regard your Honour. My Lord giue Command
For his Speedy Tryall. Power, nor ffriends
Shall ouersway my Iustice. This is the
Example I will follow.

Pho.
Spare mee not.
Iustice has tane Man's «**» ay «*» and proues our King

Ant.
O thou art Rash. I banisht thee in jest once
But now 'tis fallne out true—you must neuer See mee more.

Pho.
These Teares doe draw more [«*****»] Blood from my great Heart
Then the sad Axe will doe. But when I'm Earth
My Ghost shall come and kisse you, while you Sleepe;
And when you, waking, find a Cold Sweat on you
Thinke yt I haue beene with you. If you trembling
Doe Call Phocillus, Perhaps I shall gett Leaue
To Whisper out Adue, Adue unto you.

Atten.
Madam will you goe?

Ant.
Any whither,
For I haue noe more Words.

Pho.
Farewell—Madam.—My Heart haz Limn'd your fface now.

Pho. calls her back; gazes on her a good while. then Exit.

Scena 5a.

Achæa. Ariste.
A Wood, wherein a graue is discourd; and Achæa Burieing her Infant, and strewing fflowers upon it. Achæa in Disguised Country Weeds.
Ach.

Ari.
Good Madam
Fauour your Eyes for they would Sleepe.

Ach.
I hope
For Euer shortly Wench; And when I dye
I prithee Lay mee here too; just here, Ariste,
This little Infant will not be asham'd
To bid his Mother welcom to the Dead,
Although the Liuing hate mee. Perhaps these Trees
Will sometymes let fall Teares upon my Graue,
And euery Autumne Lend theyr witherd Leaues
To Clothe my Cold Remaines. Thy Loyall heart
Is Monument enough for Poore Achæa,
And while it Liues some of my Good will Liue,
I aske noe Longer.

Aris.
Good Madam take Some Comfort

Ach.
Alas I haue too much; I would be Marble,
But Niobe's a ffiction, ffor I doubt
Wee are too Soft, too gentle to be turn'd soe.
I cannot Looke upon this Peece of Clay
But I must Weepe still. Gentle Mother Earth
Use kindly my poore Babe; Perhaps 'twill be
A Charity to an issue of the Gods;
For its poore Mother knowes noe other ffather.
O Crush it not too hard; It's Limbs are tender.
Ariste, now goe take thy Lute, and Play
While the Gods listen. Let this groue of Yeiwes
Sigh with enraged Tempests, and their Boughes
Bee Widoes euer. Let noe Sun shine here,
Or if it doe, let Blasts waite on its Beames;
Goblins keepe here theyr Night-haunts; and noe ffoot
Dare to Approach this Desart. Let the Stones
Sweat with Continuall gore. Let euery Eye
That Lookes but hither runne into a Sea,
And finallie, Let mee the Poore Achæa
Here Dy and here be Buried.

The Lute wt hin while this song is Warbled
Dry the Teares from your fayre Eyes
Sadd Queene, sadd Wonder of the Tyme;
Throw off Dispaire. The Gods are Wise,
And your Misfortune is theyr Crime.
Then from the Dimme Eye'd World Appeale;
For they yt Wound soe strang, haue as strang Means to Heal«e»

Scena 6a.

Florimond. Achæa.
Florimond unbuttond, with his Sword Drawne, prepard to Kill himselfe. At sight of Achæa stands amaz'd.
Flor.
I cannot finde a Place
In all these Woods, of Sorrow full enough
For mee to Dy in; Sure I cannot fall
With this stiffe Rock within mee. Ha! The Image
Of my Sinne followes mee. What frost Creepes here?
Iust soe the Ruines of Achæas fface
Would Looke; That Brow hath something int that I
Would faine forgett. It Cannot be Achæa;
Alas, shee is but two Dayes old in shame yet
Unfitt to Trauell hither—Gentle Mayd;
You are soe Like a Lady I haue Lou'd,
That I must sitt downe By you; Be not Angry,
I will not Wrong you—Yet I now Discry
Some Difference twixt you. Pray 'ee Let mee Aske
Doe you Liue here about?

Ach.
A Dyeing Life Sr

Flor.
Are you not Well?

Ach.
Better then I would be Sr

Flor.
You are in Loue

Ach.
Noe I am in Despayre now;
I was in Loue while hee I Lou'd, was true.

Flor.
Thy pretty Answeres strike my Heart soe Deepe
That I must [sitt downe By thee] shed some Teares. o wh t. an Ease
It is to find Companions in our greifes!
Wert thou deceiued by A ffaithlesse Man?
Wee are All soe Wench, All false, all Dissemblers,
What Luck hadst thou? A Lady soe like thee
I wrongd that as I ueiw thy Downe cast Eye,
It does shoot ffeinds into Mee. Nay start not,
For I doe soe Extreamely Loue that fface
That I must Kisse thee. Let mee take thy Hand
Hard into Mine. Come wilt thou Loue mee Girle?

Ach.
I doe not hate you.

Flor.
Nay but Loue Mee

Ach.
Why you are ffalse you say;

Flor.
I haue been soe,
But I would teach the World a new Loue, Mayd,
Neuer before heard off, To Ly together
And Weepe Away our Tyme. Wee should begett
Whole yeares of Sorrowes & Make this shade our Heyre

Ach.
Mee thought I heard you say: you Wrongd a Lady;
I would not, Sr, be Rude; But I beseech you
To Let mee heare her Name.

Flor.
With all my Heart,
For I haue told these Woods a thousand Tymes
The Trees Can tell how I haue Kneel'd before 'em,
And layd the storie Open as to her;
And if thou wilt but sitt and play her Part
I will relate a Tale will Call the Blood
Into thy Cheekes agen, and make thee Angrie.

Ach.
Whome must I play?

Flor.
The Queene.

Ach.
The Queene! How wrong'd you her?

Flor.
Heare.

Ach.
I am Ready.

Florimond Kneeles downe before Achæa &.
Flor.
Madam the Wrongs that I haue done to you,
You must Sweare not to Pardon, you must Promise
To Curse [you] mee euer-Lastingly, and that's
Too little too; you must! or else I dare
Not part with soe much Poyson from my Brest
For feare of Wanting Torments. My Soule trembles
To thinke upon those ffauours I abus'd.
The Gods see Althings! you Were pleas'd to say
You Lou'd my Youth once, which you bound in Kisses,
You promisd mee your Bedd; And when my ffather
Stood in the Way, you did entreat my Pacience
With Vowes; But I (Made Tinder by yor Eye)
Let in the Sparkes of Lust and hott Desyres;
I thought old Tyme had Broke his Sithe; And grew
To meet your Chaster Thoughts with vitious fflames
Too Hott for Hell it selfe; And all on fyre,
Consulted with a Witch about my ffortunes;
But shee more full of Deuils then my Selfe
(I doubt the Heauens heare) (Ô Conscience
What «horrid Terrours are to be» Equall to thee)
This Witch gaue mee a Potion wc h, shee sayd,
When next I saw my Tyme, I might Administer.
You sent for mee one Night (you being in Bed)
Chastly to sitt and talke; as't was your Wont.
And when you Call'd for Wine, I gaue you It,
What Operation was that for an Hower
It sett you all on Lust without the Knowledge
Of what you did. I had my Will of you,
And then it Ended in a quiet Sleepe.
You knew not what was done. But th'impious Gods
Drew your Affection from mee vnto Calidor,
Whose Wrongs are infinite. Oh. I haue done now,
And blest wouldst thou be if thou would Dispatch me

Ach.
Alas, Sr, why doe you not tell the Queene this?

Flor.
I would I durst
But for as many heauens as I haue sinnes
I would not see her. [I will wander here,]
[And tell this Tale to euery one I meete]
([OMITTED]to their Curses. And honest Mayd]
[If thou wilt Doe this ffauour to a Wretch]
[[OMITTED]]

[Ach.
I care not if I «doe»:]

[Flor.
Wilt thou, Sweet Wench,]
[[OMITTED]le[OMITTED]ts I'ue done to thee]
[And use my uery Words]—o my Traytour Eyes
You Haue undon mee!

Scena 7a.

Ariste. Achæe. Florimond.
At sight of «Ariste» Florimond would Kill himselfe
Aris.
Neuer kill your selfe fort.
O Madam, what a Swarme of Sinnes are here?
See the God's Iustice! Most ungracious Wretch
Looke where the [Lust] ffruite of thy black Lust Lyes buried
Poore Infant Killd wt h last nights Cold & Trauaile.

Ach.
Thou art too Cruell. Cease. it is Enough.
Looke up. I pardon thee with all my Heart,
And will pray that the Gods may

Flo.
Tis impossible.

Ach.
Tis not.

Flo.
O Heauen!

Ach.
Rise up. Ile kisse thee.
Prithee Looke at mee. Florimond!

Flor.
Doe not Add
unto my Punishments by Being Kind.

Ach.
Why thou shalt Marrie mee to make Amends

Flor.
How is it possible you are not Perisht!
O take my Cloake and keepe you warme said you not
My Little Infant here was Buried
Let mee Creepe to it. I will make my Way
Through the Dust with my Teares. ye Dust is Kinder
Then my Armes. Let mee yett

Scena 8a:

Dorimant. Seruant. Florimond. Achæa. Ariste.
Dor.
Madam, I am gladd
I'ue ffound you. your greiu'd Brother does entreat you
To Come unto him.

Ach.
I waite on him Sr,
And hope I shall appeare now Cleare before him

Dor.
My Lord fflorimond you haue beene much miss't.

Flor.
Can Mischeife then be miss't?

Ach.
Nay good fflorimond!
My Lord I haue a Sea of Thoughts to utter

Dor.
Madam this Ayre must needes endanger you;
Pray 'ee hast. This Way. Sirrah prepare
The Horses.

Ser.
Yes Sr