University of Virginia Library

Actus IIII.

Scena I.

Enter Amethus and Menaphon.
Amethus.
Doate on a stranger?

Mena.
Court him, plead, and sue to him,

Amet.
Affectionately?

Mena.
Seruilely; and pardon me, if I say basely.

Amet.
Women in their passions,
Like false fiers flash, to fright our trembling sences;
Yet in themselues containe nor light nor heate.
My Sister doe this? Shee, whose pride did scorne
All thoughts that were not busied on a Crowne?
To fall so farre beneath her fortunes now?
You are my friend.

Mena.
What I confirme, is truth.

Amet.
Truth, Menaphon?

Mena.
If I conceiu'd you were
Iealous of my sincerity and plainnesse,
Then Sir—

Amet.
What then, Sir?

Mena.
I would then resolue,
You were as changeable in vowes of friendship,
As is Thamasta in her choice of loue.
That sinne is double, running in a blood,
Which iustifies another being worse.

Amet.
My Menaphon, excuse me, I grow wilde,
And would not willingly beleeue the truth
Of my dishonour: She shall know how much
I am a debtor to thy noble goodnesse,
By checking the contempt, her poore desires
Haue sunke her fame in. Prethee tell me (friend)
How did the Youth receiue her?

Mena.
With a coldnesse,
As modest and as hopelesse, as the trust
I did repose in him, coo'd wish, or merit.

Enter Thamasta and Kala.
Ame.
I will esteeme him dearely.

Men.
Sir, your Sister.

Tha.
Seruant, I haue imployment for yee.

Amet.
Harke yee:
The maske of your ambition is fallen off,
Your pride hath stoop't to such an abiect lownesse,
That you haue now discouer'd to report
Your nakednesse in vertue, honors, shame—

Tham.
You are turn'd Satyre.

Ame.
All the flatteries
Of greatnesse haue expos'd yee to contempt.

Tham.
This is meere rayling.

Amet.
You haue sold your birth, for lust.

Tham.
Lust?

Amet.
Yes, and at a deare expence
Purchast the onely glories of a Wanton.

Tham.
A Wanton?

Amet.
Let repentance stop your mouth.
Learne to redeeme your fault.

Kal.
I hope your tongue ha's not betrayd my honesty.

Men.
Feare nothing.

Tham.
If (Menaphon,) I hitherto haue stroue;
To keepe a wary guard about my fame;
If I haue vsed a womans skill to sift
The constancy of your protested loue;
You cannot in the Iustice of your iudgment,
Impute that to a Coynesse, or neglect,
Which my discretion and your seruice aym'd
For noble purposes.

Mena.
Great Mistris, no:
I rather quarrell with mine owne ambition,
That durst to soare so high, as to feed hope
Of any least desert, that might intitle
My duty, to a pension from your fauours.

Ame.
And therefore Lady (pray obserue him well)
He henceforth couers playne equality;
Indeuouring to rancke his fortunes low,
With some fit partner, whom without presumption,
Without offence, or danger, he may cherish;
Yes and command too, as a Wife; a Wife;
A Wife, my most great Lady

Kala.
all will out.

Tham.
Now I perceiue the league of Amitye,
Which you haue long betweene yee, vow'd and kept,
Is sacred and inuiolable, secrets
Of euery nature are in common t'ee:
I haue trespass'd, and I haue been faulty:
Let not too rude a Censure doome me guilty,
Or iudge my errour wilfull without pardon.

Men.
Gracious and vertuous Mistris.

Ame.
Tis a tricke,
There is no trust in female cunning (friend)
Let her first purge her follies past, and cleere
The wrongs done to her honor, by some sure
Apparant testimony of her constancy:
Or wee will not beleeue these childish plots;
As you respect my friendship, lend no eare
To a reply. Thinke on't.

Men.
Pray loue your fame.

Exeunt Men. Amet.
Tham.
Gon! I am sure awakt. Kala I finde,
You haue not been so trusty as the duty
You ow'd, requir'd.

Kala.
Not I? I doe protest, I haue been, Madam.

Tham.
Bee no matter what.
I'me pay'd in mine owne Coyne; something I must,
And speedily—so,—seeke out Cuculus
Bid him attend me instantly.

Kala.
That Anticke!
The trim old Youth shall wait yee.

Tham.
Wounds may be mortall, which are wounds indeed:
“But no wounds deadly, till our Honors bleed.

Exeunt.
Enter Rhetias and Corax.
Rhet.

Thar't an excellent fellow. Diabolo, O this lousie
close-stoole Empricks, that will vndertake all Cures, yet
know not the causes of any disease. Dog-leaches. By the
foure Elements I honor thee, coo'd finde in my heart to
turne knaue, and bee thy flatterer.

Cora.
Sirra, tis pitty th'ast not been a Scholer;
Th'art honest, blunt, and rude enough. O Conscience!
But for thy Lord now, I haue put him too't.

Rhet.

He chafes hugely, fumes like a stew-pot; Is he
not monstrously ouergone in frenzy?

Cora.
Rhetias, tis not a madnesse, but his sorrow's
Close griping griefe, and anguish of the soule
That torture him: he carries Hell on earth
Within his bosome, 'twas a Princes tyranny
Caus'd his distraction, and a Princes sweetnes
Must qualifie that tempest of his minde.

Rhet.
Corax, to prayse thy Art, were to assure
The misbeleeuing world, that the Sunne shines,
When tis in th'full Meridian of his beauty.
No cloud of blacke detraction can eclipse
The light of thy rare knowledge; henceforth casting
All poore disguises off, that play in rudenesse,
Call me your seruant: onely for the present,
I wish a happy blessing to your Labours;
Heauen crowne your vndertakings; and beleeue me,
Ere many houres can passe, at our next meeting,
The bonds my duty owes, shall be full cancelled.

Exit.
Cora.
Farwell—a shrewd-braine Whorson, there's pith
In his vntoward plainenesse.—
Enter Trollio with a Murrion on.
Now, the newes!

Troll.

Worshipfull Master Doctor, I haue a great
deale of I cannot tell what, to say t'ee: My Lord thunders:
euery word that comes out of his mouth, roares
like a Cannon: the house shooke once, my young Lady
dares not be seene.

Cora.

We will roare with him, Trollio, if he roare.

Trol.

He has got a great Poll-axe in his hand, and
fences it vp and downe the house, as if he were to make
roome for the Pageants. I haue prouided me a Murrion
for feare of a clap on the Coxcombe.

Cora.
No matter for the Murrion, here's my Cap:
Thus I will pull it downe; and thus out-stare him.

Trol.
The Physicion is got as mad as my Lord.—
O braue, a man of Worship.

Cor.
Let him come, Trollio, I will firke his Trangdido,
And bounce, and bounce in metall, honest Trollio.

Trol.

Hee vapours like a Tinker, and struts like a
Iuggler.

Menander
within.

So ho. So ho.

Troll.

There, there, there; looke to your Right Worshipfull,
looke to your selfe.

Enter Meleander with a poll-axe.
Mel.
Show me the Dog, whose triple throated noyse,
Hath rowzd a Lyon from his vncoth den,
To teare the Curre in pieces.

Cor.
Stay thy pawes,
Couragious beast, else lo, the gorgeous skull,
That shall transforme thee, to that restlesse stone,
Which Sysiphus roules vp against the hill;
Whence tumbling downe againe, it, with his waight
Shall crush thy bones, and puffe thee into Ayre.

Mel.
Hold, hold thy conqu'ring breath, tis stronger far
Then Gun-powder and Garlike. If the Fates
Haue spun my thred, and my spent-clue of life
Be now vntwisted, let vs part like friends.
Lay vp my weapon, Trollio, and be gone.

Trol.
Yes Sir, with all my heart.—
Exit. Trollio

Mel.
This friend and I will walke, and gabble wisely.

Cor.
I allow the motion: On.

Mel.
So Polititians thriue,
That with their crabbed faces, and sly tricks
Legerdemayne, ducks, cringes, formall beards,
Crisp'd haires, and punctuall cheats, do wriggle in
Their heads first, like a Foxe, to roomes of State,
Then the whole body followes.

Cor.

Then they fill Lordships, steale womens hearts:
with them and their's the world runnes round, yet these
are square men still.

Mel.
There are none poore, but such as ingrosse offices.

Cor.
None wise; but vnthrifts, bankrupts, beggers, Rascals.

Mel.
The hangman is a rare Phisician.

Cor.
Thats not so good, it shalbe granted.

Mel.
All the buz of Drugs, and Myneralls and Simples,
Bloud-lettings, Vomits, Purges, or what else
Is coniur'd vp by men of Art, to gull
Liege-people, and reare golden piles, are trash
To a well-strong-wrought halter; there the Goute,
The stone, yes and the Melancholy deuill,
Are cur'd in lesse time then a paire of minutes.
Build me a Gallows in this very plot,
And Ile dispatch your businesse.

Cora.
Fix the knot right vnder the left eare.

Mel.
Sirra, make ready.

Cora.
Yet doe not be too sudden, grant me leaue,
To giue a farewell to a creature long
Absented from me, tis a daughter (Sir)
Snatcht from me in her youth, a handsome girle,
Shee comes to aske a blessing.

Mel.
Pray where is shee? I cannot see her yet.

Cora.
Shee makes more haste
In her quicke prayers then her trembling steppes,
Which many griefes haue weakened.

Mel.
Cruell man!
How canst thou rip a heart, that's cleft already
With iniuries of time? whilst I am franticke,
Whilst throngs of rude diuisions huddle on,
And doe difranke my braines from peace, and sleepe;
So long I am insensible of cares.
As balls of wild-fire may be safely toucht,
Not violently sundred, and throwne vp;
So my distemper'd thoughts rest in their rage,
Not hurryed in the Ayre of repetition,
Or memory of my misfortunes past.
Then are my griefes strooke home,
When they are reclaym'd,
To their owne pitty of themselues—Proceed;
What of your daughter now?

Cor.
I cannot tell yee,
Tis now out of my head againe; my braines
Are crazie; I haue scarce slept one sound sleepe
These twelue moneths.

Mel.
'las poore man; canst thou imagine
To prosper in the taske thou tak'st in hand,
By practising a cure vpon my weakenesse,
And yet be no Physician for thy selfe?
Goe, goe, turne ouer all thy bookes once more,
And learne to thriue in modesty; for impudence
Does least become a Scholer. Thou art a foole,
A kind of learned foole.

Cor.
I doe confesse it.

Mel.
If thou canst wake with me, forget to eate,
Renounce the thought of Greatnesse; tread on Fate;
Sigh out a lamentable tale of things
Done long agoe, and ill done; and when sighes
Are wearied, piece vp what remaines behind,
With weeping eyes, and hearts that bleed to death:
Thou shalt be a companion fit for me,
And we will sit together like true friends,
And neuer be deuided. With what greedinesse
Doe I hug my afflictions? there's no mirth
Which is not truly season'd with some madnesse.
As for example.—

Exit.
Cora.
What new Crochet next?
There is so much sence in this wilde distraction,
That I am almost out of my wits too,
To see and heare him: some few houres more
Spent here, would turne me Apish, if not frantick.
Enter Meleander and Cleophyla.
In all the volumes thou hast turn'd, thou Man
Of knowledge, hast thou met with any rarity,
Worthy thy contemplation like to this?
The modell of the Heauens, the Earth, the Waters,
The harmony, and sweet consent of times,
Are not of such an excellence, in forme
Of their Creation, as the infinite wonder
That dwelles within the compasse of this face:
And yet I tell thee, Scholer, vnder this
Well-ord'red signe, is lodg'd such an obedience,
As will hereafter in another age,
Strike all comparison into a silence.
She had a Sister too: but as for her,
If I were giuen to talke, I coo'd describe
A pretty piece of goodnesse: let that passe—
We must be wise somtimes: What would you with her?

Cor.
I with her! nothing by your leaue, Sir, I:
It is not my profession.

Mel.
You are sawcy,
And as I take it, scuruy in your sawcinesse,
To vse no more respect—good soule, be patient:
We are a paire of things the world doth laugh at:
Yet be content, Cleophila; those clouds
Which barre the Sunne from shining on our miseries,
Will neuer be chac'd off till I am dead;
And then some charitable soule will take thee
Into protection. I am hasting on,
The time cannot be long.

Cleo.
I doe beseech yee,
Sir, as you loue your health, as you respect
My safety, let not passion ouerrule you.

Mel.
It shall not, I am friends with all the world.
Get me some wine, to witnesse that I will be
An absolute good fellow, I will drinke with thee.

Cora.
Haue you prepar'd his Cup?

Cleo.
Tis in readinesse.

Enter Cuculus and Grilla.
Cucul.

By your leaue, Gallants, I come to speake with
a young Lady, as they say, the old Troianes daughter of
the house.

Mel.

Your businesse with my Lady daughter, Tosse-pot?

Gril.

Tosse-pot? O base! Tosse-pot?

Cucul.

Peace; do'st not see in what case he is? I would
doe my owne commendations to her; that's all.

Mel.
Doe, come my Genius, we will quaffe in wine
Till we grow wise.

Cora.
True Nectar is diuine.

Exit Mel. & Cora.
Cucul.

So, I am glad he is gone. Page, walke aside.
Sweet Beauty, I am sent Embassadour from the Mistris
of my thoughts, to you, the Mistris of my desires.

Cleo.

So Sir, I pray be briefe.

Cucul.

That you may know, I am not as they say, an
Animall; which is as they say, a kinde of Cokes, which
is as the learned terme, an Asse, a Puppy, a Widgin, a
Dolt, a Noddy, a—

Cleo.

As you please.

Cucul.

Pardon me for that, it shall be as you please
indeed. Forsooth I loue to be courtly, and in fashion.

Cleo.

Well, to your Embasie; what, or from whom?

Cucul.

Marry what is more then I know? for to know
what's what, is to know what's what, and for what's what:
but these are foolish figures, and to little purpose.

Cleo.

From whom then are you sent?

Cucul.

There you come to me agen: O, to bee in the
fauour of great Ladies, is asmuch to say, as to be great in
Ladies fauours.

Cleo.

Good time a day t'ee; I can stay no longer.

Cucul.

By this light but you must, for now I come toot.
The most excellent, most wise, most dainty, precious, louing,
kinde, sweet, intolerably faire Lady Thamasta
commends to your little hands, this letter of importance.
By your leaue, let me first kisse and then deliuer it
in fashion, to your owne proper beauty.

Cleo.

To me from her? Tis strange; I dare peruse it.

Cucul.

Good, O that I had not resolu'd to liue a single
life! Heer's temptation able to coniure vp a spirit
with a witnesse. So so: she has read it.

Cleo.
Is't possible? Heauen, thou art great and bountiful.
Sir, I much thanke your paines: and to the Princesse,
Let my loue, duty, seruice, be remembred.

Cucul.
They shall Mad-dame.

Cleo.
When we of hopes, or helpes, are quite bereauen,
Our humble pray'rs haue entrance into heau'n.

Cucul.
Thats my opinion cleerely and without doubt.

Exit.
Enter Aretas and Sophronos.
Aret.
The Prince is throughly mou'd.

Sophron.
I neuer saw him so much distemp'red.

Aret.
What should this young man bee,
Or whither can he be conuay'd?

Sophr.
Tis to me a mystery, I vnderstand it not.

Aret.
Nor I.

Enter Prince Amethus and Pelias.
Prince.
Yee haue consented all to worke vpon
The softnesse of my nature; but take heede:
Though I can sleepe in silence, and looke on
The mockery yee make of my dull patience;
Yet'ee shall know, the best of yee, that in mee
There is a masculin, a stirring spirit;
Which prouokt, shall like a bearded Comet
Set yee at gaze, and threaten horrour.

Pel.
Good Sir.

Prin.
Good Sir. Tis not your actiue wit or language,
Nor your graue politicke wisdomes (Lords) shall dare
To check-mate and controle my iust commands.
Enter Menaphon.
Where is the Youth your friend? is he found yet?

Men.
Not to be heard of.

Prince.
Flye then to the desart,
Where thou didst first encounter this Fantasticke,
This airie apparition; come no more
In sight: Get yee all from me; he that stayes,
Is not my friend.

Amet.
Tis strange.

Aret., Soph.
We must obey.

Exeunt all but the Prince.
Prince.
Some angry power, cheates with rare delusions,
My credulous sense: the very soule of Reason
Is troubled in me—the Physician
Presented a strange Maske, the view of it
Puzzl'd my vnderstanding: but the Boy—
Enter Rhetias.
Rhetias, thou art acquainted with my griefes,
Parthenophill is lost, and I would see him;
For he is like to some thing I remember
A great while since, a long, long time agoe.

Rhet.

I haue been diligent (Sir) to pry into euery corner
for discouery, but cannot meet with him:

There is some tricke I am confident.

Prin.
There is, there is some practice, sleight or plot.

Rhet.
I haue apprehended a faire Wench, in an odde
Priuate lodging in the Citie, as like the Youth
In face, as can by possibility be discern'd.

Prince.
How Rhetias!

Rhet.
If it be not Parthenophill in long coates,
Tis a spirit in his likenesse; answer
I can get none from her; you shall see her.

Prince.
The young man in disguise vpon my life,
To steale out of the Land.

Rhet.
Ile send him t'ee.
Exit Rhet.

Enter Eroclea in womans attire, and listens.
Prince.
Doe, doe my Rhetias. As there is by nature
In euery thing created contrarietie:
So likewise is there vnity and league
Betweene them in their kind; but Man, the abstract
Of all perfection, which the workmanship
Of Heauen hath model'd, in himselfe containes
Passions of seuerall qualitie, the musicke
Of mans faire composition best accords,
When tis in consort, not in single straines.
My heart has been vntun'd these many moneths,
Wanting her presence, in whose equall loue
True harmony consisted; liuing here
We are Heau'ns bounty all, but Fortunes exercise.

Eroc.
Minutes are numbred by the fall of Sands;
As by an houre-glasse, the span of time
Doth waste vs to our graues, and we looke on it.
An age of pleasures reuel'd out, comes home
At last, and ends in sorrow, but the life
Weary of ryot, numbers euery Sand,
Wayling in sighes, vntill the last drop downe,
So to conclude calamity in rest.

Prince.
What Eccho yeelds a voyce to my complaints?
Can I be no where priuate?

Eroc.
Let the substance
As suddenly be hurried from your eyes,
As the vaine sound can passe your eare,
If no impression of a troth vow'd yours,
Kneeles.
Retaine a constant memory.

Prince.
Stand vp; tis not the figure stampt vpon thy cheekes,
The coozenage of thy beauty, grace, or tongue,
Can draw from me a secret, that hath been
The onely Iewell of my speechlesse thoughts.

Eroc.
I am so worne away with feares and sorrowes,
So wintred with the tempests of affliction,
That the bright Sunne of your life-quickning presence
Hath scarce one beame of force, to warme againe
That spring of chearefull comfort, which youth once
Apparel'd in fresh lookes.

Prince.
Cunning Impostor,
Vntruth hath made thee subtle in thy trade:
If any neighbouring Greatnesse hath seduc'd
A free-borne resolution, to attempt
Some bolder act of treachery, by cutting
My weary dayes off. Wherefore (Cruell-mercy)
Hast thou assum'd a shape, that would make treason
A piety, guilt pardonable, blood-shed
As holy as the sacrifice of peace?

Eroc.
The Incense of my loue-desires, are flam'd
Vpon an Altar of more constant proofe.
Sir, O Sir, turne me backe into the world,
Command me to forget my name, my birth,
My Fathers sadnesse, and my death aliue,
If all remembrance of my Faith hath found
A buriall, without pitie in your scorne.

Prince.
My scorne (disdainefull Boy) shall soone vnweaue
The web thy Art hath twisted: cast thy shape off,
Disroabe the mantle of a fained Sex,
And so I may be gentle; as thou art,
There's witch-craft in thy language, in thy face,
In thy demeanors; turne, turne from me (prethee)
For my beliefe is arm'd else. Yet (faire subtilty)
Before we part (for part we must) be true,
Tell me thy Countrey.

Eroc.
Cyprus.

Prince.
Ha: thy Father.

Eroc.
Meleander.

Prince.
Hast a name?

Eroc.
A name of misery, the vnfortunate Eroclea.

Prince.
There is danger
In this seducing counterfeit, great goodnesse!
Hath honesty and vertue left the time?
Are we become so impious, that to tread
The path of impudence, is Law and Iustice?
Thou vizard of a beauty euer sacred,
Giue me thy name.

Eroc.
Whil'st I was lost to memory,
Parthenophill did shrowd my shame in change
Of sundry rare misfortunes: but since now
I am, before I dye, return'd to claime
A Conuoy to my graue, I must not blush
To let Prince Pallador (if I offend,)
Know when he doomes me, that he doomes Eroclea.
I am that wofull Maid.

Prince.
Ioyne not too fast
Thy penance, with the story of my suffrings.
So dwelt simplicity with virgin truth;
So Martyrdome and holinesse are twins,
As innocence and sweetnesse on thy tongue.
But let me by degrees collect my senses,
I may abuse my trust. Tell me, what ayre
Hast thou perfum'd, since Tyranny first rauisht
The contract of our hearts?

Eroc.
Deare Sir, in Athens haue I been buried.

Prince.
Buried! Right, as I
In Cyprus.—Come to triall, if thou beest
Eroclea, in my bosome I can finde thee.

Eroc.
As I, Prince Palador, in mine: This gift
She shewes him a Tablet.
His bounty blest me with, the onely physicke
My solitary cares haue hourely tooke,
To keepe me from despaire.

Prince.
We are but Fooles
To trifle in disputes, or vainely struggle
With that eternall mercy which protects vs.
Come home, home to my heart, thou banisht-peace,
My extasie of ioyes would speake in passion,
But that I would not lose that part of man,
Which is reseru'd to intertaine content.
Eroclea, I am thine; O let me seize thee
As my inheritance. Hymen shall now
Set all his Torches burning, to giue light
Throughout this Land, new settled in thy welcome.

Eroc.
You are still gracious. Sir, how I haue liu'd,
By what meanes been conuey'd, by what preseru'd,
By what return'd; Rhetias, my trusty seruant,
Directed by the wisdome of my Vncle,
The good Sophronos, can informe at large.

Prince.
Enough, in stead of Musicke, euery night
To make our sleepes delightfull, thou shalt cloze
Our weary eyes with some part of thy story.

Eroc.
O but my Father!

Prince.
Feare not: to behold
Eroclea safe, will make him young againe;
It shall be our first taske. Blush sensuall follies,
Which are not guarded with thoughts chastly pure.
“There is no faith in lust, but baytes of Artes;
“Tis vertuous loue keepes cleare contracted hearts.