University of Virginia Library

ACT. III.

SCEN. I.

Misander discover'd asleep, Leucasia to him.
Leu.
All things are husht & laid, except my thoughts;
Somthing puls back my hand, methinks, and tels me
'Tis not a Virgin's Office to be cruell.
I would that he were dead, but not by me.
I am afraid. But do I only tremble?
Is that all I retain of Innocence?
Shee's too near guilt that only fears, and she
That's come so far as only to be stopp'd
By a misgiving Heart, hath don't already.
I cannot then retire me from the sin,
Though I do leave the Action unconsummate.
On then, Leucasia, on: that Tyrant hath
The same Design on thee, but that he will
Put it in practise by an easier way.
Prevent him then, and—what? I am afraid
To hear it nam'd: I have decreed within me
Somthing I dare not tell unto my self.
And truly 't hath been told me, that there is
A place, where after Death all sins are punish'd.
There be my wrongs Reveng'd—But wilt thou then
Betray thine Honour to him, and bequeath
Thy self to willing Infamy? Thy Deed
Hath Heav'n for its Defence; thine Innocence
Prompts thee to do it; it is Vertue strikes,
The Blow is none of thine—Yet some do say
The Ghosts of those that are thus us'd do haunt
The guilty after death, and I shall then
Be frighted every minute—But thy Father,
Thy Father doth perswade thee; 'tis not thou,
It is Eudemus strikes—Yet I shall never
Endure to see his bloud gush out in streams:
'Twill be an hideous sight to view his wounds
Open, and gaping as it were for her
That newly made 'm. Can a Virgin this?
A Virgin wrong'd can more—But I'm not safe;
All things, methinks, have Eyes: this wavering Taper
Doth seem to watch, and listen what I say,
And trembles now to think what shall be done;
It is a Spy; first then extinguish that.
Darknesse belongs unto thy deed. Sin never
Yet wanted light; there's somthing that directs it
Without a Day—good Heav'n! how sound he sleeps!
I cannot do it for my heart—'Tis best
That I retire unseen—

As she puts out the Light, he starts out of his sleep, and snatching a Dagger from under his Pillow, stabs her.
Mis.
So perish
All that do seek my life.

Leuc.
O! O!

Mis.
When Kings
Lye down, ev'n Darknesse doth become their Guard,
And Night keeps watch. Misander's sleep hath Eyes.
Lights here, what lights ho!

[Phi. Cal. and Pru. with lights
Leuc.
O!

Mis.
Is't thee my fair one?
(Quickly, a Surgeon ho! the hurt is mine:
Haste; every drop of Bloud's your Soveraigne's.)
Said I my sleep had Eyes! O, if it had,
Thou ne'r hadst fall'n. This is a deed, that makes
Ev'n me asham'd, one, who they say ne'r blusht,
But only to cast out all Modesty.
Be husht, O Fame, in this part of my Life!
Oblivion, seize thou but this deed, and let me
Become the talk of all Posterity.
What e'r I did before was yet virile,
Having this plea at least, that 'twas to Man.
The Sex here is my shame, what shall I say
The Beauty of it is? That makes mine Act
Deform'd beyond expression: 'Tis a sin
That puzzles all Invention to outstrip,
And comes a Novelty to History.

Leu.
Why have you us'd her thus, that could not wound you?

Mis.
And art thou kind yet, fair Leucasia?
I dare not call thee mine. My Act's more hainous
In that thou still affect'st me, and thy Love
Makes me more wicked than the wrong I've done thee.
Thou hast found one way more t'augment my fault.

Leuc.
If I did please you, why am I thus wounded?
If not, O why doe not you wound me more?
If thus you use those whom you love, your Subjects
Will make their pray'rs to heaven to be hated.

[Ent. Phil. with a Surgeon.]
Mis.
Bind up her wound as tender as you can,
And be as Gentle, as I have been Cruell.
Here Health her self should come and work the Cure.
Nature lyes sick whiles she doth. O my Fate!
Y're idle O ye Gods! where is your Thunder?—

Scen. II.

To them Eudemus.
Eud.
Not far off from thee most unhumane Tyrant.

Mis.
I am a Tyrant now indeed; this stroke
Hath made that Name peculiarly mine.

Eud.
Was't this she pleas'd thee for? she did deserve it
In comming to thee. 'Tis a due that's paid her
For that offence. But if I'd thought thou hadst
Only requir'd her Bloud 't should have been spilt
By me her Father, whiles she yet was honest,
VVhiles not yet tainted with so near approach
Unto this Crime, as to Consent. I'm only
Sorry 'tis done so late.

Mis.
O do not think
This Sin, this Villany, call't what thou wilt,
Was done with Counsell; 'Twas a meer Mistake;
Suspicion made me Cruell.

Eud.
Nay, I thank you,
I thank you for the Wound: I'm glad her Body
Hath only pleas'd to slaughter; you have been
Past expectation kind in striking thus.
The wound had been far greater had you lov'd her.
Put this among your Deeds of Charity;
It is the only thing in which the Father,
Since thou didst first demand her, can rejoyce in.

Mis.
If yet thy Voice speak louder than thy Bloud
Say this, Leucasia, only—'Twas his Error—
O take revenge, Eudemus, whiles thy Fury
Yet prompts thine Arm—O speak, Leucasia,
Curse me, Leucasia, so thou wilt but speak—
O pardon me, Eudemus, 'tis a King,
A King thus asks thee pardon—By those Eyes,
Those Eyes, whose sight first Captivated mine,
By this thy present Beauty, though thus wounded,
Which makes me suppliant to thee, me, who do
Acknowledge no Superiour, I entreat
Thou think not ill of me howe'r—Blest Father,
Only unhappy by this Accident,
Remit mine Error—Sweetest Virgin look,
Look once upon me, I've no Dagger now,
No such curs'd weapon—If thou yet dar'st trust
Thy Daughter with me, all the helps that Art
Can yield shall be employ'd; there shall no Prayers
Be made to Heav'n but to recover her;
No Gums shall fly up in a pious smoak
But for her health, although the Gods I know
Favour her so, that she ne'r yet had need
T' employ a Sacrifice.

Eud.
Trust her with thee?
I'l trust her to Destruction as soon.
Give me my Daughter from thy loath'd Embraces.
You have done what you would: yet shee's not mine,
Whiles thus polluted by thy Love, and Anger.
When thou hast made her honest, and has wrought
That cure upon her, then return her to me.
'Tis only Innocence that makes the Child.

Ex. Eud.
Mis.
Thou, unto whom I ow this curs'd misfortune,
Darkness, enwrap me. Though mine Eyes are blest
In viewing her, (too happy if not thus)
Yet that they may no longer share this guilt,
If thou canst hide one blacker than thy self,
Spread out thy Wings; O Night I fly to thee,
Strook deeper far, and wounded more than she.

Ex. Mis. and Leuc. convey'd in. Manent Phil. Cal. Prus.
Phil.
Who is't would live in fear? Suspicion strikes
Those that intend no harm, insteed of Foes.

Cal.
This comes of Love forsooth—They fool so long
Untill at last they ev'n kill one another.
The beastly Poets now will fall to work
And stab her o'r and o'r again; we shall
Have such Leucasiads now come forth I warrant,
And such Misandriads—

Pru.
'Twas no fault of his.
He did suspect some Treachery, some design
Upon his life; it was not meant to her.

Phi.
I would 't had been your Widdow, Prusias.

Cal.
Faith, cut her throat in imitation too.

Phi.
Sure you may do it safely; she hath no
Bloud left that will be spilt; 'twill only make
Another passage for her wind.

Cal.
You may
When you have don't take her, and marry her
In Recompence: Il warrant you shall find her
As warm then, and as moist, as she is now.

Pru.
You never had that goodness, as to Love.
Keep in your Scoffs, or else—

Cal.
—You'l beat me, won't you?

Pru.
A man can't be a little Circumspect,
And carefull of himself, but you must twit him
With Cowardise. Sir, there's a King in Thrace.

Cal.
Why, th' King shall know we love him Sir as well
As you, although we do not walk his Pace,
Eate not according to his Palate, Love not,
And hate not by Reflection.

Phi.
There may be
True hearty Subjects, though they be not shadows
Cast from the Body Royal; and we may
Live very well, and yet not live by Rote.

Pru.
Pray y' be not angry friends: you know wee're Mortals:
All have our faults.

Phi.
And thine is Cowardize.
Why, now I see thou'rt coming: I perceive
There is some goodness in thee. Let's speak Treason.

Pru.
Come, come, you're merry Captains: let m'alone;
What think you of this Action?

Cal.
Though I don't
Commend it, yet, I'm glad 'tis done.

Pru.
The King
Shew'd himself truly valiant, me thinks,
That he durst strike i'th' dark, he knew not whom.

Phi.
No question but 'twas valiantly done:
Misander did it. Troth I like it well,
There'l be some trading now. This sneaking Peace
Stops all Commerce; a Man grows musty in't.
There is no dying out of Course.

Cal.
Good faith,
I do ev'n long to cut a Throat: good Qualities
Are quickly lost, you know, for want of practice.

To them a Souldier.
Sol.
The City's up in Arms: away t'your Tents.

Cal.
This is the first thing that I lov'd 'em for.
Now you shall see the difference 'twixt us Captains
Train'd up i'th' Field, and you train'd up i'th' Court.

Phi.
Let's to our charges; how will you bestow
Your self most valiant Prusias?

Pru.
I'l along
Unto the King, and do as he doth. Pray you
For my sake spare the Widdow—faith I love her.

Exeunt.

Scen. III.

Misander on a Couch.
Mis.
Or Nature doth not make the Beautifull,
Or takes no care for their defence once made.
Where are those now say Beauty is a Guard
Sufficient without Weapons? Curs'd Misander:
Thou hast not that felicity of ill doing
As to offend the Common way. Thou dost
Act Crimes, that thwart receiv'd Opinions,
And contradict ev'n Truths agreed upon;
So that thy facts will be hereafter urg'd
As Proofs against Positions. Wretched Man!
If any shall hereafter strive t' express
A Mortall Malice, let him only say,
His Hate's as dangerous, as Misander's Love.

Scen. IV.

To him Cleodemus, Timophilus, Callimachus, Philostratus.
Cle.
Leave off this grief; The Citie's up in Arms Sir—

Mis.
How does Leucasia?

Tim.
—They're almost with us—

Phi.
—Their March is swift; Eudemus is their Captain—

Cal.
—They are resolv'd to kill, or to be kill'd—

Mis.
Hath she not slept as yet?

Cle.
Do you sleep Sir?

Tim.
Are you in such a Lethargy, that Thunder
Cannot awake you?

Mis.
Doth her wound much grieve her?

Tim.
You will be Butcher'd Sir within this half hour.

Mis.
Ha!

Phil.
You will have your throat cut presently.

Mis.
Ay!

Cal.
Pox upon this paltry nonsense Love.
Will you be made a Martyr by your slaves?

Mis.
What is the matter Captain?

Cal.
Why, the City
Is up in Arms, coming to kill you Sir.

Mis.
Let 'em do what they will. You have not told
Whether Leucasia slept or no.

Cle.
Come Sir,
On with this Sword; girt, and bestir your self.

Mis.
What would you have me do?

Tim.
Wee'd have you fight,
Or else give us directions how we shall.

Mis.
I charge you make not any shew of Battel;
Let there be no resistance; give 'em free
And unmolested passage to me: all
Is safe I'm sure, if that you'l be contented.
He that shall first lift up his hand against 'em
Shall be the first that falls.

Cle.
Then dye alone,
And perish sluggishly without resistance.

Tim.
Come let's away, and each shift for himself.

Exeunt all but Misander.

Scen. V.

To him a Boy in the habit of a Virgin. Leucasia discover'd in a Chair, and Euthalpe by her.
Mis.
I know, for my sake, that she hates all Men;
Who're therfore Miserable 'cause she hates them.
So that I've brought a Curse o'r half the world
By this one single Action. Prethee sing,
And try if in this habit thou canst wooe
Her weary thoughts into a gentle slumber.

Song.
Boy.
Seal up her Eyes, O Sleep, but flow
Mild, as her Manners, too and fro:
Slide soft into her, that yet shee
May receive no wound from thee.
And ye, present her thoughts, O Dreams,
With hushing winds, and purling streams,
Whiles hovering silence sits without,
Carefull to keep disturbance out.
Thus seize her, Sleep, thus her again resign,
So what was Heavens gift, wee'l reckon thine.

As she fals asleep Misander seats himself just over against her, and looks immoveably upon her, not regarding any thing done in the next Scene.

Scen. VI.

To them Eudemus, Terpander, Scedasus, Epigenes, Patacion, Nicias, Souldiers of Byzantium.
The Attendants flie all but Euthalpe. The Byzantines seeing Misander sit thus, full off amaz'd.
Sced.
VVhat Policy is this and't please the Gods?

Ter.
The sign o'th'Tyrant gazing on the Virgin.

Nic.
Here's more work for my Pencill than my Sword.

Eud.
What? stand you fix'd as he? I thought there would
Have been that loyall strife who should have first
Let out that Bloud that covets yours.

Epig.
Shall we
Fight with a Statue?

Eud.
Flesh and bloud I warrant y'.
No part is stone about him, but his Heart.
Through which, though hardned so, I'l find a Passage.

Eud. makes at him. Euth. steps between.
Eut.
But through me first: the Sword hath more to do
Than you suspect

Eud.
Will you dye too for Company?

Eud. is stopt by Sced. and Pata. Euthalpes Father. Pat. passeth over to defend his Daughter.
Pat.
You are my Enemy if you wrong my Daughter.

Euth.
This is a part of Fury, not of Valour.
Where heavy sadness hath quite tane away
All life and Soul, will you add more wounds yet,
And kill him that's already dead? you shall not
Disgrace your former deeds with such an Action.

Eud.
What? a she Champion?

Eut.
That I am a woman
Cannot take off from vertuous deeds; my Soul's
As Male as yours; there's no Sex in the mind.

Eud.
New Tenents to defend new Prodigies.
Was't this you went along for? Can you see him
Gazing upon these Wounds he made, and yet
Not give him one himself? Look how he takes
Delight in's Act ev'n to an Extasie.

Sced.
Wee'l strike when he may feel it: 'twere an Act
Of pitty to destroy him now; you see
He takes no notice, and makes no resistance.

Eud.
'Tis only Beauty moves his wanton Eye;
Hee's blind to all besides. 'Tis not his time
To strike as yet, his Blow's at Midnight still.
Were't dark he would bestir himself; he dares
Do nothing when 'tis day: besides wee're Men;
He only shews his strength on feeble Virgins.
Were we but Women all our Blouds should run
Mixt in one common stream. You shall not stay me:
I'l sacrifice him to my wronged Daughter,
Whom he thus tortures.

Euth.
If that Love can torture
He is her punishment: hee's so tender of her
That he hath not once clos'd his Eyes, since first
He wounded her, but sits thus musing still,
Scarce breathing any time, except it be
To set a sigh at liberty: he is
Almost run Frantick for this hard mischance.

Pat.
You see, Eudemus, Heaven hath begun
To take revenge upon him, doe not interest
A mortall spight i'th' quarrell of the Gods.
Leave them to perfect what they've took in hand.

Terp.
Ne'r let me eat more if I could not cry
To see him how he looks—yfaith he loves her.

Eud.
Think you that this is out of tendernesse
He thus takes care of her? he doth but strive
To make her fit to fall again; she must
Either endure his Anger, or his Lust
The worse Plague of the two. If that you love her,
Pray Heav'n she ne'r awake.

Epig.
You are too bitter;
You have too much o'th' Father in you; 'tis
Your Passion speaks.

Eud.
You are not Citizens,
That think this Injury my private one;
Not Souldiers, that let fall your swords, when that
Y' are come unto the point of Action;
Not Friends, in that you think 't my privat wrong,
And yet not strive to vindicate me: 'tis
Heaven's will my sword should only be ennobled
In this Designe. I will perform't—

Euth.
You shall not.

Pat.
Keep off Eudemus.

Eud.
What Patacion turn'd
Misander's Bawd?

Euth.
Most passionate Man, you wrong
My Reverend Father, and your Daughter too;
I'm certain his Love's good, Lust never yet
Could look so quiet and so peaceable.

Terp.
Well, if it be a trick, he do's't as well
As e'r I saw one yet: yfaith hee'd make
A very pretty Actor in my Judgment.
Perhaps 'tis but his Image, there have been
Such tricks e'r now; pull him but by the Nose
And we shall quickly see—But hold! who's here?

Scen. VII.

To them Timophilus, Cleodemus, Callimachus, Philostratus, Prusias, without weapons.
Tim.
Most Noble Citizens, 'tis very kindly
Done of you, thus to visit your faire Virgin.

Eud.
Perhaps you think to complement us out
Of our revenge; where are your Swords? your Weapons?

Tim.
There, in that Chair.

Eud.
This meerly is a Plot.

Cle.
I would Misander did dissemble only!
Alas! the Passion is too true. I wrong it
When that I call it Passion: 'tis a Madness,
A Frensie rather. Would he lov'd us so
As he doth you, Eudemus, and your Daughter.

Eud.
I would he did; I'm sure hee'd wound you then.

Cle.
Heaven can witness, that was his mistake:
You must complain of Fortune, not of him.

Tim.
You would do very nobly to conclude
A Truce between both parts till he recover.
I'm sure it is not your desire to end
The business of a Field in a Bedchamber.

Pat.
We can't suspect that Treachery can have
A lodging in your Brest.

Pru.
To wipe off all
Such thoughts, I am most willing to become
Hostage my self.

Cal., Phi.
And we too if you please.

Pat.
If you'l consent, Eudemus, I my self,
With Scedasus, and Epigenes, will be th' Exchange.

Eud.
Being you'l have it so, I will.

Sced., Epig.
And we.

Cle.
May from these pledges spring such setled Peace
That we ne'r need these mutuall Offices
For its Assurance—

Pat.
And our strength hence grow
Weak to our selves, but potent to our Foe.

Misand. desists his contemplation as Leuc. awakens. They depart enterchangeably. Manent Mis. Euth. Leuc.
Mis.
I am return'd again; I was transported,
And drunk in Revelations from the sight
Of your diviner Front. Me thoughts I saw
Venus, impregnate at one beck of Jove,
Deliver'd of a wing'd and star-like Infant;
At whose blest Birth the Spheres sung high, and loud,
And each thing else rejoyc'd; only a Soul
There was, which striving to destroy the Child
Presented it a Mixture made of Tears,
And Sighs, and Passions, instead of Nectar.
For this condemn'd to take it all her self,
She drank it, and grew Mad: Being thus distracted,
The Father of the World, and Love (that was
The little Infant) did forthwith confine her
Unto the Prison of an humane Body;
And only left her this way to regain
Her former Seat, by using the Child well.

Euth.
Be your own Tutor then; Dyet that Child
With pure and simple Viandes; let no Passion
Trouble the Cup; or if some one slip in,
Purge and correct it, that it only give
A pleasing relish to the rest, and thence
Prove an Encitement only, no Disease.

Mis.
Alas! you talk of streams fresh from the chaste
Resplendent Gravell of the purer Fountain.
The waters that I taste have journi'd through
All Minerals, and have stoln somewhat from each;
Straying as far in Qualities from the Fountain
As they've in space.

Euth.
The Eye of Love, like that
O'th' Body, if distemper'd, is to be
Help'd by the Influx of some harmless Color.
If then your Soul see ill (for that 's Love's Eye)
Cure it, by looking on her healing Vertues.

Mis.
True, I must take those good Perfections
Only from her; I am my self as void
Of all, as Tables not yet lineate,
And only love to gain 'em.

Euth.
You love them
In a desire of supplement.

Mis.
Had Heav'n
Given me all th' Endowments of my Saint,
I should rejoice as much in mine own Beauties
As now I sigh for hers. To love her would
Be a superfluous thing, my self sufficing
My self, as once Narcissus did Narcissus.

Eut.
You seem to stray Sir from the Common Tenent
That Woman is but the defect of Man,
In that you make her thus his Complement.

Mis.
And rightly: 'Tis she gives him operation.
Her Beauty 'tis that's Valorous, Liberall, Just:
Our Vertues only are but other Names
Of her Perfections; some good thing of hers
Disguis'd i'th' shape of Action. Thus at first
The Servant hath not that great Light and Beauty
Of better thoughts, that his blest Fair one hath;
But by conversing, and Example, grows
Up to the same vigor and force of honour;
As the weak Taper that is kindled from
The fuller light, shews first a fainter Beam,
But by the eager growth of Flames, casts forth
A Lustre still encreasing, till both, being
At the same measur'd brightness, do combine,
And twist by intermingled Beams, uniting
Themselves into one Circular flux of Glories.

Leu.
Who hath inspir'd you thus? me thinks that mind
Which ere while like the place below the Moon
Had Thunders, Lightnings, Whirlwinds, and such other
Unruly Meteors, is now like the State
Of that above, where still one equall Calm,
One soft continued Quietness doth hush
All that wheels round about it, making things
Pass without Noise, and yet with Musick too.
Had you but ere while shewn such mildness, you
Had wounded my Soul then.

Mis.
Unworthy Wretch!
By your instructions yet that name may be
Chang'd to a Title equalling ev'n Heav'n.
Speak, and I'l listen as some holy Priest
To the high Dictates of his whispering God.

Leu.
Thus then, Love, whether he be found i'th' Fields
'Mong Beasts (where some think he was born, and as
He grew up practiz'd shooting upon them)
Or else 'mong Laws, and Men (where now his Temples,
His Altars, and his Statutes are) is alwaies
Each where a thing Divine, and ought as such
Be worship'd by all that pretend to good.
Love having this Divinity in us
Far above other Creatures, in that he
Hath chosen out Man's Countenance to place
Two sparks of it, whence Hearts are easily kindled,
Man ought to cherish this fire by good Reason,
And make it burn more cleer, substracting from it
All grosser stuff: I banish not the Senses
When I name Reason; for as we must please
The Mind and Soul, so we must feed the Sight,
And sometimes too the Touch; in that we are
Not Reason only, but Eye too, and Hand.

Mis.
I do acknowledge all as Oracle,
Let me adore those Lips that utter'd it.

Leuc.
This doth not yet give way to your Embrace,
Or Authorize your Kiss: think not of any
Such thing, lest like the impatient Orpheus, you
By looking back lose what yo' have gain'd from Death.
You are not yet arriv'd at that perfection
As to participate those Sweets; your Merits
Must grow up to them: to transgress their bounds
Would be to wrong your self; for disproportion'd
Felicity, is a Misery. First, conceive
And think, and Fancy honourably within,
And then take leave t' embrace, & Crown those thoughts.
For they that love a Lip or Hand, love grosly:
Affection compasseth, not enters them;
Having, as th' Earth, the Surface scorch'd by th'Sun,
Whiles that the Center rests cold and benum'd.
Beasts and Plants move to propagate their like;
Our Love must then step higher, and contend
To make our selves Immortall: which is done
When each by dying in himself doth come
To live in something made of both these Deaths,
As doth the Voice and Lute in a third Musik,
Or Musk and Amber in a third Perfume.
And this the Gods and we call perfect Love.

Mis.
One Voice is Heav'n's and yours: now I perceive
That as the Earth enlightned by the Sun
Sends forth those fumes which after darken him;
So our Hearts kindled by our Reason first
Cloud the serenity of that by strange
And grosser Appetites. But you have drawn
The Veyl away that was before Love's Eyes.
Which Veyl yet was not his, but ours, he being
Said to want Eyes, because we walk in Secret,
And unknown Paths. Great Diety of Affections,
Thou art first fair and good thy self, and then
Mak'st others to be so. O pardon us
Blasphemers then, who do the Blame transfer;
And say that thou art blind, because we Err.

Exeunt.