University of Virginia Library

Scen. 5.

Enter Cleobulus like a Satyre courting Arismena, Bracheus like another Satyr courting Castarina.
Phil.
The same, the very same.

Lar.
Be they Devils.

Phil.
Wee'l revenge them here.

Philaritus and Lariscus offer to run at the Satyrs who pulling off their Vizards are known to be Cleobulus and Bracheus.
Cleob.
Do, kill thy Father boy.

Brac.
Murder thy Unckle.

Phil.
Ah! Are you the cruel Satyrs?

The supposed servants in the interim steale away Arismena and Castarina.
Cleob.
Yes and have we hope
Made you amends: They were our men
Which we both shapt, and fitted for that purpose.

Lar.
You frighted us.

Cleob.
It is confest, but now
Wee'l crosse your hopes no more, but give you those
Yee terme your greatest happinesse: May heaven
Make their wombs fruitfull with as blessed issue
As ere gave Parents hopes.

Phil.
These wishes Sir
Adds to my great content, and were
But Arismena here, there were not in
The world that which could make Philaritus
Accurst.

Brac.
It is my wonder that she stayes
Thus long.

Crying within.
Lar.
What noyse is that?

Phil.
Some's strangled sure.

Cleob.
Hear tis plainer now.

They cry within.
Brac.
Let's in I pray.

Phil.
All's well I hope.

Exeunt in hast, and enter againe.
Cleob.
We hear a noyse but can
Not tell where tis.

within Oh! Oh! Oh!
Phil.
Harke!

Cleob.
Its here abouts.

Cleobulus drawes the curtain and findes Coridon and Rurius in a payre of stocks their hands tied and their mouths gaggd.
Lar.
Oh horrour!

Phil.
Unbinde the men.

Brac.
I am affraid.

Cleob.
What sport's this?

Cor.
No sport, the Satyrs—

Phil.
What of them?

Cor.

Having intelligence (I know not by what means) of
your disguising of your selves into their shapes, have surprised the
house, and ere we were aware bound and gaggd us as ye see; so
instead of us brought in Arismena and Castarina, who since have

carried them away leaving us in this lamentable case.

Cleob.
Plagues pursue them.

Brac.
Horror attend them.

Lar.
Furies!
Rise in my braine and help me to revenge.

Phil.
Fix me for ever here, oh you that send
The active lightning from your throne, or trust
Me with your thunder once—Dare you not?
Or have I more consuming flames within?
Yes my breath may blast them all—stand off
Runs up and down.
Furies swell up my breast, and in this rage
I could unmake the world, and turne it back
Into its first unpolished heape, and shall
Performe some worthy deed worthy Philaritus.

Exit.
Cleob.
This doth distract my Sonne.

Brac.
Wee'l counsell him
Till we have set him right.

Lar.
I'm lost in griefe
And smalls the hope I have to finde releife.

Exeunt.