SCAEN. I.

THE cause of that strange and unexpected Accident, Eu­phrates?

Your Ingenuitie best knows Sir.

No, no, I pray thee relate it to me.

I am no Orator, muchless no Hudorigrapher;

Why, I'm sure Perco would offer you no abuse; he looks not as if Mars were seated in his Brows, or Dame Envie in his innocent Brest, or Fury to be the overswayer of his amoricious will; pray thee, the rea­son?

Many words umbrage dissimulation: Father, I beseech your patience. Oh my dear Grievance! for why, even for thy sake my soul doth die.

Fie, fie, Son, extirpate those fond Flames, and illuring Contemplati­ons out of memorie; for it is a thing neither decent, beseeming, nor comelie for such a noble spirit as yours, muchlesse these are not times for Love-Fancies; why, she's dead, there's no recalling of her; and why should you now wrap yourself in the Robes of Discontentment? Time may put a Period to my years, where are you then? in a Lake of Miserie.

Be not so obstinate, there's in the world as beautiful as she.

But not so virtuous.

Yes, virtuous too.

[Page 2]The tallest Cedar that ever grew, there was some to parallel it both in hight and straightness.

I shall desire your pardon at the present Father, for being thus absurd to leave you, which I am forc't by some indispotìon of my Body, and return to my Chamber,

Farewel Son; I wish some good event come of't.

ACT. I.
SCAEN. II.

FERCOR!

Sir.

Where be those Bills of Exchange that came yesterday? let them be drawn.

They are in your Closet Sir, amongst the rest that came from Spain.

What! you onely stay for a happie Gale; you have all things ready for the Voyage.

All, sir.

Oh happie friend! well met once at home.

Oh Neslo! once more in the prospect of these mortal eyes of mine: What News? What News?

News that doth even terrifie me with the most vigorous strength of sor­row that could have happened.

What is't?

The Lady Greceana this last night stolne away by two insolent fellows, and by a third, one more wittier, but wickeder; I may term him in knavery con­ducted and conveyed to the Thessalian Court, which as we all know, are open Enemies to us Germanes.

'Tis true.

Know you their Names?

Perco, Bremon, and Lermo; oh wretched Villains that dor'st attempt such an inhumane thing! Hark, the people utter horrid rumors within; let's in and see.

We attend you.

ACT. I.
SCAEN. III.

WAS it not rarelie accomplished▪

I by the Heavens it was; it was alwayes my saying, If once we evinced that Atlantick brazen Gate, it were as sure as Venus commit­ted Adultery with Mars.

[Page 3]

I must ingenuouslie confesse it was an Herculian task for us, having so many stratagems, so many Bolts and Locks, and at last being invironed with a most energetical Bulwark, and that fortified with a most strong Moat to over­come, but by your acute wit Mr. Lermo, the which I must needs commend.

Sir, my wit is but shallow in comparison of your strength; but it hath been accustomed rathert to chuse Vlisses then Poleph [...]mus, sic parcis componere magna solebani.

Com [...], come friends, 'tis too tedious; let us not dispute upon that sub­ject now, but treat upon the facetious spirits of Venus; even now I h [...]ve an innu­merable Chymaeras entering my turbulent brain, what we shall do with this An­gelical and Goddesse-like Dame; well, I'le go fetch her into the Court; my eies have a longing desire to glance upon her delicious Physiogmonie.

Go prosperouslie, and return happilie. It was reported (and I am ve­ry confident you very well know) that Euphrates (a man of good fortune and noble parts) was a great Suitor of this Lady, the flame of which love I fear is still kindled in her Brest, and not easie to be quenched.

I do remember it; but time, place, and distance, with some other in­tricates, may work another effect, and cause her to burie his former love in the grave of Oblivion, and not to imbalm it up for a perpetual egrimonie to her minde; and I hope that old Proverb will prove true, Out of sight, out of minde.

ACT. I.
SCAEN. IV.

BE not so coy Madam, Time—

What of Time?

Nothing but Time.

Speak, prethee speak, what means thou by this hidden talk?

Hidden talk Madam? you may term it hidden talk, or what you please; but if you'd lived to my years, and had so much experience as I have had in—

Thou art a prettie piece of Mortalitie indeed; if I'de had so much ex­perience as thou'st had; in what I pray thee, thou pattern of deformitie?

Madam, I say as I did before, time may alter, witnesse Sybilla.

What of her?

Nothing Madam, but she was a fair goddesse, but she being coy and squemish, cast off Phoebus in his glorie; & afterwards she thinking the May of her daies, and fresh colours would alwaies continue, and time and fortune could not wear out, not imagining that white and red should once return to black and yellow; Juniper, the longer it grew, the crookeder it waxt; so she with age that had no blemish in her face, had wrinckles without number, and all that knew her shun'd her company.

Believe me, a learned speech!

Madam, I beseech you give me leave to speak a word or two to your Ladyship.

What insolent audacious Idiot's that? Know'st him Crecia?

[Page 4]

It is Euphrates man, Madam.

Euphrates man! what makes he here? ask'im his business, and send him away.

My Ladie desires your business.

I am come of an Errand from Mr. Fercor, to tell your Lady that he is going Factor into the Streights for her Father, desiring to take his leave, because he hath some private businesse with her, and he will wait upon her at three in the Afternoon.

What's the fellows business?

He's come from Mr. Fercor your Fathers Factor, that is going to the Streights, and he will wait upon you this Afternoon upon business, and then take his leave.

What business should he have with me my Fathers man? 'tis true, he was alwaies a proud fellow, it may be it's for some fancie or other to wear; well, if he come Il'e see him.

I shall obey your command.

Madam, my Master desires your companie to Dinner.

Tell my Father I will wait upon him presentlie. Come Crecea, let us walk in.

I am readie to attend your Ladyship.

ACT. I.
SCAEN. V.

SIR, you have much honored me with your companie, and I clearlie discern the power of your affections, where your welcom cannot be equalled to my desire, much less to your deserts.

The occasion of my coming was for no other respects but those due unto your merits, whom I honor and am ready to serve.

You owe me no service; but I am readie to embrace your friendship, noble sir, and friend, since it hath been my happie fate thus fortunatelie to light into your companie; as true it is, Necessity hathno Law, so it hath no shame; for contrarie to my disposition I must become an importunate sutor to you.

Sir, name it, no sooner ask't but granted.

Your kinde replie shall imbolden me to declare what I was intended to have concealed: only this it is, Whether or no those three Vagabonds were the atrocious Actors in that same dismal Tragedie, in conducting Greceana to the Thessalian Court?

Worthy friend, I shall venter as far upon the brinks of libertie as I can pass without mendation or fabulating unto you; for this I can affirm for a truth both by prospect, and likewise by a most pensive report, That Percor was one Malefactor in that same illitable Enterprise, in exhausting the onely Diadem and splendent Lustre of Chaste Virgins to that place of deprived Li­bertie.

[Page 5]

For answering me this querie in one respect, for uttering the utmost of your knowledge therein, hath link't me to you with the chain of everlasting A­mitie; and contrarie, hath pin'd me up with the bolt of terrissitie from you, for hearing of such penetrating and poysonous sentence;

If such an Anglicis hath took once possession in your undaunted and well-known Manhood, I shall not be him that withstands it; but this I would have you take in consideration of your Judicial Policie, the grave Counsel of that famous Student in all Arts and Sciences, ANTONV S POMPE.

Him dear friend I have sent for.

In my best apprehension, you in that have done discreetlie.

It's three hours since I sent a Letter by my man, which I wonder I hear no News, it may be he's not at home, and he stayes to bring him along with him, therefore I will wait with patience. But stay, here he comes.

Sir, I have delivered the Letter.

Delivered the Letter! to whom you Rascal? did I send you in hast, and you have loitered all this time?

Sir, I stayed to bring him with me, because the contents of your Let­ter as I heard said, required speed; therefore he was come half the way, staid to talk with two Gentlemen, and said he would wait upon you presently.

In this thou hast satisfied me in some respect: But noble friend Drosa­mus, I trespass too much upon your patience.

No sir, I take it for an honor that I am able to serve you in any thing.

Your love sir is more then I deserve.

Your desert is more then I am able to require; but stay, who comes here? it should be Pompe by's gaite; 'tis him.

Then his counsel I'le in this matter; and so I go inspight of Fate or Fortune.

And so I too in spight of the—Devil and his—Monky.

Are you one Mr. Euphrates?

I am the man, sir.

From you I had a Letter this day by a man, whose tenor I very well understand, and have pondered on it a seasonable time, and likewise my Judge­ment is as followeth:

First, Sir, I am compelled by duty to praise your fidelity in the war-like attempt of Venus; and notwithstanding, your Martial Animoscity in the civil Combate of Mars; if you be resolved, as I hereby understand, I would advise you (by the reason [Page 6] they know you) to attire your self in womens Apparel, taking another Sociate with you, and you may by Arts and Fortune accomplish your desires.

I shall do herein my endeavour, and Metamorphise my self with smi­ling looks.

Then go prosperouslie.

And I with him sir, you wish.

By your many savours and kinde replies the minde of your servant is impleated with so much advantage, as to crave your companie in this same dis­mal undertaking.

Sir, I accompanie you with helexitie.

My Father must not know of it; so attend me tomorrow morning be­twixt four and five, at the back Window in the Garden, and you shall finde me readie to take shipping in the Lyon.

Your will shall be fulfilled.

And what, must I be left behinde? marry godamercie, I believe you will misse your—before you return; he doth not mind me, nor I will not minde him afterwards; and if any one ask me whose man I am, I can tell thee I am mine own Master now; but I'le be sure fi [...]st before I say so, I'le go see him safe.

SCAEN. I.

WHat, here's no man yet in prospect; what prodigies have happened by the way? sure something must be the cause, but what's, uncertain.

In the Court not long since there were some debates by men of superio­ritie in war-like Atchievements, of which the rumor did passe amongst the vul­gar and commons, as then I did lend an attentive ear, That a Ladie of an un­known birth was to be enjoyed by the encounter of two Knights.

Not the Lady Greceana!

Time will divulge it.

But now yonder I perceive the happie sight of long-wish'd for friends; the Lady's well I hope.

Very well, she advancing nigh.

On unhappie Girl, thus to be rape away by Wolves, Beares, (what shall I term them?) in mans shape, and by most illitable resolutions!

First begot in vain Conversation, and then brought up by cruelty, the unhappy Nurse in their infidelious hearts, and conducted here to a pensive Habitation, which af­ford [...] no pleasure to the eye, but objects of misery; none to the ear, but self-undoing, out­cryes: Oh Euphrates, where art thou? in what cavern of despair?

Madam, why so melancholic?

Oh that these innocent hands were wreath'd about thy ever-flourishing Breast! then might I sit down and crown my self with contentation; but until [Page 7] then, what fate and unhappie fortune recommends to a desolate Virgin.

Sir, wil't please you to receive your Enterprise into companie?

Madam, remember your self, here behold as great virtue, but far greater Braverie; and I speak to you without fabulating, and you may believe me, you in Germany have onelie meer shrines of love, and wise gods, but we their per­sons, and likewise their Virtues; and what can be recorded that hath been found out by Arts and Sciences, but the nobleness of a Courtier hath found out by practise? I should term them most seemless and void of reason that think to gather more Fruit then Leaves, or see more at the Candle snuff then at the Sun beams; what may't please you answer, is not all this true?

All true, all true.

Sir, Your speech is good, but not aptlie placed in my disposition; there is one thing yet draws my minde, even as the Load-stone draws to it Iron away, when you think me most attentive; for why Gentlemen, I must confess it is far more difficulter for me to glance any pleasing look, or shape a state of dissemb­ling, than to utter the truth and realitie of the matter.

Why Madam, was ever that frail cogitation cast into your memorie, as once to imagine that us Courtiers can feign our selves otherwise then we are? my meaning is, to dissemble.

Lo Mr. Lermon, this may be recorded, Qui niscit dis [...]imulare, nes [...]it regnare.

Sir, my meaning will be concealed; for I desire the Place of my discon­solation, wherein I may take my turbulent repast.

Madam, we attend you.

And we also.

ACT. II.
SCAEN. II.

SIR, your saying is very aptlie located, and I wish it may come to an ef­fect.

Sir, if once the flames of bright Greceana's love not once take place, nor in his breast there move their ever-flashing Furies, or so cruel betwixt Dia­na and Venus, there to keep a duell, our matter may be effected, and with speed we might perceive brave Greceana dead, and only there vertuous Medea rest in his most true and ever faithful Breast:

Well! but Mr. Hermon, this, I am possest with much temerousness, that her love is so radicated in his contemplation, that it is like that famous and un­paraleld Stone A [...]beston, found in Arabia, of iron colour, which being once made hot, can hardlie or never be quenched; but send for him; if he be willing, my Daughter shall not resist.

I will fulfil your pleasure.

[Page 8]Who attends there? where's your Master?

He's gone to the Lyon, Sir.

What, to drink his Mornings-draught?

The Ship sir, that set out for Thessalia this day, the name of it was Lyon.

I sir, that's the thing he's gone to.

Oh what, and how much terror hath overwhelm'd the faculties of my soul! how my breast pants! how I sweat at the tenor of this Sentence!

Why?

There's reason enough; but no more at present.

Explain it to me I pray.

At your request Ile do what fond fancie will give leave, and ease my minde of this heavie burden; by vulgar report the Lady Greceana is gone to Thessaly, and my fear is, my Son hath undertaken that unhappie voyage in pur­sute after her.

Let fancies flee, I'le bring you more news afterwards, that would vex every vein in your heart if I should get that old mans Daughter;

What mine? away fond slave, away. Let's in, and see more for certain.

Lead the way.

ACT. II.
SCAEN. III.

GOod God! did I think a man so void of reason, or had so little sence? What fond Chymaera's hath imbibe'd into his besotted brain? He told me he loved me; it may be so, am I then forc't to love again? No certainly, there's no such Obligations in Venus Court: But why should I thus contem­plate upon this rash Doteard! flye from me like my dullest breath, for he is gone whom I did love: Oh Euphrates, Euphrates! why so cruel, when thou art lov'd not to love again? But if I should sum up all the sighes that thou hast cost me, I should loth the nomination and thought of such a man; but 'tis thy feature I look at, thou knowst' not my grief, though I perceive the vigor of it; but I must be contented; Crecea where art thou?

At a call Madam; what's your pleasure?

I have no pleasure in this age; pleasure flies from me, and grief returns in their place, and doth remain.

Why Madam, what sad news have you received? it's all for a man.

No, not for that.

I fear it much.

You may perswade your self to contraries; what was't then you think Fercor came about?

Believe me I know not; why thats not it made you so sad I hope.

No, nor light neither.

You are so catching.

But I shall take some time to let thee know it.

[Page 6]

I then attend.

He told me he loved me.

Ha, ha, ha, what's the man mad? sure he is not right.

He was in earnest, but I return'd him presently an answer, and set him going.

But would he be said, Madam?

Faith with much ado; but pleased or not, I care, I hope he's gone ere this, and committed himself to the brackish and merciless waves, where Neptune is overswayer with his Iron Mace; Enter Fercor. See the unhappy prospect of my foe! say I am not with­in.

Mr. Fercor, I thought you had been tost ere this with turbulent waves.

Tost I am, with waves I am not: Wheres your Mistris?

Is that your business? she's not at home.

I do not desire your company then.

Marry come up here; I'm gone sir.

Just Heaven, what will she be so cruel to her servant! I must aba [...]e the pride of that fierce humor, and my resentment of it shall make her see that Lovers must be treated in another fashion; but these scorns I'le turn into her shame; and Euphrates whom she thinks her own already, shall as even faile her hopes as she hath mine, when a more worthy Object shall change his mind, and his disdain of her, shall revenge hers of me.

ACT. II.
SCAEN. IV.

TIME and Tide stayes for no man; shake off these panick fears; though it be boystrous at your entrance, yet you may land with an happy Gale.

It's not the waves that works upon my nature, or the fierce rumor of their horrid noise, nor the tossing of the Ship in the Ocean that can work any distemper, or search out any desolate vacant Cavern in my illatable body, in which it may accumulate daunting and disparting fancies; but it is a certain fa­culty, more strong and vigorous in its operation, which may aptly be compared to Dedalus and his waxen Wings, the higher it surmounts, the more it doth me melt.

But this is nothing to the business concerning my particular, for this is as fit for love as a Pudding for a Dogs mouth.

You have propounded a mystery to me, Fercor, beyond the Element of my capacity and climate, in which I walk not; a task too high for me to look; but if your intention be continued to the promise you formerly made, here is one who being desolate of a place, would undergo the elaborate Science of Na­vigation.

Sir, my promise is firm, and I intend to fulfil it: is this him that would learn?

[Page 10]

This is the man: I shall leave you to your selves, for time and duty calls me hence.

Sir, if you think it convenient to go to sea, and see the hidden myste­ries in the Ocean, I shall fulfil your mind

I would go if it were but to see my Master, but I would not be drown­ed, ones clothes will be so wet when he is taken up; but pray you tell me seri­ously, How oft hast thou been drowned?

Thou art a fool sure, sees not me yet alive?

Oh Gentlemen! be they dead that be drowned? I thought they had put on fishes skins, and walked upon the sands, and kept the fishes company; it were a thing to be marvelled at, that a little cold, cold water should kill a man of reason as I am, and not a senseless Gudgin.

Thou art wise from the crown of the head upwards; if thou goes with me, Ile make thee understand the Card and the seven Stars.

How to play at Cards Sir!

I tell thee, the Sea-Card, and the thirty two Points.

I can play at one and thirty.

But I have not many points about my Breeches.

Thou art very dull; but wilt thou learn?

I, begin with the Points first, for they are most in fashion,

North, North and by East, North, North-East, North-East and by North, North-east, North-east and by East, East, North-East, East and by North, East.

I'le now say it after you; North-East, North no more by the East, but by the West side, that's on my right hand, and by North.

Thou art void of reason, hast thou no memory?

I'le say again, North by North, which should stand in the place of East; I'm out of it again I dare say.

And so dare I too; but farewell, I perceive thou art an ideot, and so I take my leave, for neither time nor tide will permit me any longer to stay.

Good boy, good boy, I had rather be hang'd where I may leap for my life, then drowned where no body sees me.

SCAEN: I.

EVPHRATES! Oh miserable Euphrates! how canst thou frame thy affections according to thy habit, who was wont to exercise thy self, and to take only delight in atchieving rare Exploits, riding a Tilt-Horse, and now confin'd within the protection of a Petticoat; certainly Drosanus, I shall never manage it with dexterity, but instead of making a Coursie I shall make a Leg.

Though it hath been your daylie practise to be imployed in Martial Af­fairs, yet for a certain season you may metamorphose your self as Galathea and fair Philli [...] did in the year of offering sacrifice unto Neptune, who were compel'd [Page 11] by their indulgent Fathers for their safeguard; follow this practise to enjoy the Trophies of your Victory.

As power doth lie in me, so shall I do my duty: stay, yonder comes Perco my ordained Enemy, he knows not me, let us stand aside.

How now! what strange conceit! what new contraries hast thou given place to enter into thy minde! hast thou turn'd the dilicious pastimes of Diana to the lascivious sports of Venus; thy ever-wished for chastity to wanton looks▪ thy conquering arm to captive imaginations of Love? Dost thou begin that strange creature Pyralis, to dye in the air and to live in the fire; to leave the sweet delights of the Court, to follow the hot desires of Love? (Oh Perco!) these are not words becoming a man of thy animosity; but for thy affections being a Lover, can Cupids Brands quench Desta's Fire? or his feeble Shaft, headed with Feathers, give a wound more emedicable then Viana's Arrows, headed with steel? Oh Greceana! because thou art fair, must I be fickle? and falsifie my Vow because I see thy vertue? fond man that I am to think of Love! nay, vain passion that I follow, to disdain Love! But here comes Bremon, Lermo, and the lustre of the day, Greceana; I must vale my Physiognomie with a Vermili­on blush, lest they perceive the Alablaster hew in my face, and laugh.

Do you perceive? he's in love with her.

I, very well: But let us know the event of it.

ACT. III.
SCAEN. II.

Sweet Lady, can you love?

Withdraw my Lord; can such a thing as Love be once named here, where every Marble that supports this place in Aemulation doth spend tear [...] with us; nay, where the wound of such a mighty Lovers, a Euphrates, hath not in my frail breast bled their last.

Tush rare Greceana, these sighs and panique fears that seem to Ladyes terrible, are common to every Souldier, when from field returning, all besmea­red in blood, where Dukes and Kings lye slain; yet in their Tents at mid-night it frights not them from courting a sweet Mistress.

He saith the right; and note of this how I can po [...]ise?

[Page 12]

Hear me one word good friends; I rue that ever I did undertake that matter in conducting that piece of Deformity away; for she is neither wise, beautiful, nor constant, I'le prove it Bremon; Four Elements meet in the stru­cture of that Greceana, of which there's not one pure; she's composed meerly of Blood, Bones, and rotten Flesh, which makes her Leprous; where the Sun exhales, the moist complexion, it doth putrifie the Region of the Air; there then's another; sometimes the Sun sits muffled in its Cave, whilest from the Clouds flie hiddeous showers of Rain, which sweeps the Earth's corruption in­to Brooks; Brooks into Rivers; Rivers send their Tribute as they receive it, to the seething Ocean; Thus Air, Earth and Water, all infected! she then fram'd of these, can she be beautiful? No Bremon, no; if she be, she has the help of Art▪ by Nature she is ugly: I'le see if I can perswade them to this; for while two Dogs fights for a bone, the third may get it.

Are you in this minde, sir?

I, and will continue in it.

Let's go for the space of half an hour, and take the fresh air, I'm migh­ty ful.

So am I.

Lets go then.

Every word of their utterance carry [...]s' vertue in them; I'le divide them into particulars: For Perco's, they are of a mixt composition, neither of Honey nor Gall, much like the fruit cal'd Mandrake, which is fair in shew, but in taste bitter and acid. For Bremons, it's of a different nature from the former, hollow hearted, onely skin, neither bone nor flesh, but plyable every way, which is plain flattery. Lermo's, the constructure of it is of both these, head of Per­co's, feet of Bremon's, the middle of Douts, being his own Lot. I pass now to Greceana's, as it were from turbulent waves to Crystal streams, whose brink is form'd of contentment, and the streams themselves delights: They are—

By your favor, let me put in one word, which is this▪ Let's not dispute of words, or Castles in the air, but the subject, which is form'd of material sub­stance; we must go about while we do prattle here, the Gole may be won; and like simple Wood-cocks, think we are most safe when we are in the most dan­ger; but let not these words take place in your heart for a reservement of hatred, but for innocentious amosity.

[...]r [...]sanu [...], th [...]y [...] soveraign. Balm for a love-sick heart; no time to come hence forward shall be trifled in vain alluring self▪conceits, but labor to put a Period to discontentment, and [...] expect new Trop [...]ies of felicity.

ACT. III.
SCAEN. III.

NESTO, noble Nesto, is there no tydings from Greceana.

None as yet; but expected they are.

It is reported Euphrates hath pursued her, and it's for certain ere this [Page 13] he hath obtained the happy visit of her, which all as yet he aims at, it being the rich Object of his desires; if Fortune had stayed his courses in that Progress, you might have seen which is the greatest confirmitie, Hermon my son, and Eu­phrates my son in law; but since it is determin'd otherwise, I am submissive to the will of Fates': Stay! yonder comes Mr. Hermon, wee'l see how he takes it, and how affected to this Melady.

'Tis true friends.

What?

That my son hath followed her: is this your Friend?

'Tis one Mr. Nesto, who usually waited upon Greceana while in this Nation she was present, but now liveth upon his means; he's a Gentleman.

Vpon Greceana!

Yes, servant to her.

She's now in Thessaly.

She is so▪

And there should stay if't had not been for my son; but generous souls are prone to valiant acts; I take my leave of you.

Nest. Your servant, sir.

I am forc't against my will to leave you.

ACT. III.
SCAEN. IV.

I AM glad you are come Daughter, I have here stayed in expectation of you these two hours.

Your business, sir?

I have a Letter from Fercor, which is of concernment to you as well as me; the thing I like well, and do at it rejoice.

The cause of your helexity, Father?

He professeth himself your most humble servant.

What's his meaning by it?

He loves you.

Is any thing more ridiculous? you know I never gave nourishment to that condition; in you it is the most harsh unpleasing discord; but I hope you will be instructed better, knowing how much my fancie goes against it; talk not of that, and welcom.

Sir, speak to her, or else you'l do no good.

You retain!

I see your unkind temper; will no thought soften your heart? disdain agrees but ill with so much beauty; if you would perswade him not to love you, strive to be less fair, undo that face, and so become a rebel to Heaven and Nature.

He loves my face then▪

As Heavenly Prologue to your minde; he doth not dote like Pigmalion on the colours.

[Page 14]

No he cannot; his was a painted Mistris; and besides, you increase my wonder of his folly, for I have told you that so often—

What?

My mind's so opposite to all his Courtships, that I had rather hear the tedious Tales of Robbin Hood, then any thing that trenches upon the limits of Love: If he come fraught with any of Cupids devices, keep 'em for his Whirli­gigs, or land the next Edition of his Messenger, or Post with a mad Packet, I shall but laugh at them, and pitty him.

Thats pitty—▪

Do not mistake me, it shall be a very miserable pitty, without love: Were I a man, and had but half that hansomness, (for though I have not love, I hate detractation) ere I would put my inventions to the sweet of Comple­ments, to court my Mistris hand, and call her smiles blessings greater then the suns beams, entreat to wait upon her, give her Rings with wanton and most la­mentable Poesies, I would turn Thresher.

This is a new Doctrine from women.

I could provoke if truth should be uttered, how he calls it happiness.

Just Heavens! can Fercor be so void of reason to call that happiness which is a madness? I thank my stars, I never was so vain: But pray you Fa­ther the truth, provoke me if you can?

Fercor it's not.

Not Fercor.

No not Fercor!

Change not your countenance at that word, you'l fain perswade me you ne­ver did nor can love.

It's not for love nor any vain passion from thence proceeding, that doth change the faculties of my body, but to see silly men thus to intrap them­selves. Father, after my duty I take my leave of you.

ACT. III.
SCAEN. V.

WO, wo, Thropheus, what shall one do in this case, being abused by their children! while they are young easily to be corrected, but being old, stub­born and perverse, I compare her to tkat suttle fish for her craftiness, namely, a Barble, that will not meddle with the bait until with her Tail she hath unhook­ed it from the the hook; no more will she give any audience until she see the thing reality it self: And to a Crockodile I her conceit, if they see a man a­fraid of them, they will eagerly pursue him, but on the contrary, if they be as­saulted, they will shun him; having eaten the body of a man, they will weep over the head, but in fine, eat the head also: thence came the Proverb, Croco­dile tears: Feigned tears in such manner she doth with me; let me intreat her what I please, still she's quite contrary to it, having made many protestations a­gainst it, and having let many a tear by the reason of it, at length is contented [Page 15] and receives it; from whence I affirm, Womens tears are but seigned tears: but hoping to see her better resomed, I'le follow her.

SCAEN. I.

MAdam, give car.

Sir, vex me not.

Your words are like Arrows headed with steel, directed only to wound my heart.

Why fairest one? think but what enjoyments thou shalt receive at thy impartial sacred Decree.

Injoyments will be turned to curses at that day; if't be with you to spend the Prime and the first Blossom of my youth, and suffer all to be ex­hausted by the hot influence of that most loathsom and consuming lust, to find those things that therein's hid, and likewise those that are forbid.

Remember for what canse those things to you were given, not to keep alwaies, or to be smothered with the unhappy Nurse Chastity, but to be imploy­ed upon the like resemblance, and to produce the real substance of material joy.

Perswade me to it.

But I'le have caution of what I take in hand, to spend those things that be errevocable, and that with prodigality; no.

Ne're follow such vain cogitations, but reflect your self into this cli­mate, wherein I shall lead you, and happily leave you: What profit doth there flow from hidden Treasure, but only to feed the insaciate Misers eye, when if it were put to some use, it might encrease its substance, and inrich the owner: Such youth and natures bounty, that receive again from the expence; but were there none but meer Damage, yet the pleasure of't, and the delight, would recompence the loss.

What e're the pleasure be, or the delight, I am too young, not plum'd for such af [...]ight.

Too yong! I like you better; there is a price due to the early Cherry, the first Apples deserve most grace; the budding Rose is set by, but stale and ful­ly blown, is left for Vulgars to rub their sweaty fingers on? Too yong! as well you may affirm the tender Twig too yong to grast upon, or you may say the ri­sing Sun's too yong to court the day.

I see you are obstinate, therefore I mean to answer you no more, but take my leave.

Go happily.

I now perceive words composed of wind are but a flying substance, not able to carry the efficacie of acting, to preserve vain hope and lose the treasure; but some other way must be invented, which in short time I'le produce:

ACT. IV.
SCAEN. II.

COME honest Pudd, I'le undertake to manage that business thou hast in hand.

I shall be shamed face when I see my poor Crecea, thinking how I shall stumble at the splendent lustre of her orient Cheeks.

Her eyes you mean.

Eyes and Cheeks are all one.

'Tis true, to you.

I, and to you.

Believe me, it were a kind of prophanation to make doubt of the con­trary.

How happy am I then in such acquaintance? a man shall have his due when your meaner Society hath neither judgement to discern, nor credit to commend it: but may I take your word? will you be true if I should take up the Lance of Law and wrestle with Crecea.

Nay, there's no man in the earth more liberal, take it upon my word—

Your word?

I have not any thing in the world more dear or precious in my esteem, which I will not most willingly part with upon the least summons of thee my friend.

Well said, my Boy; thy Mistress and my Master are together for a season, and why may not we be together, and court our Mistresses at our plea­sure?

Hasten about thy business, I'le attend thee. I will see now what lies in my poor judgement here to do, & turn this Fool into an Asse, which if it take effect, it may produce laughter both unto me, and likewise to his Master.

ACT. IV.
SCAEN III.

UNfortunate Euphrates! therefore unfortunate because Euphrates! Was it not sufficient to behold the fire and warm thee, but with [...] thou must kiss the fire and burn thee? Oh Greceana! Greceana! Art must yeild to Nature; Reason to Appetite; Wisdom to Affection: Could Pigmalion intreat by savour to have his Ivory turn'd into Flesh, and cannot Euph [...]tes ob­tain by plaints to have the Picture of his Love changed to life? What Pigmali­on? what Pyrgo [...]eles? or what Lysippus is he that ever made thy face so fair, or spread thy same so far as I? But alas! she is the Paramsur to a Courtier; Perco [Page 17] the great hath both her body and affection; for what is it that Courtiers cannot obtain by prayers, threats, & promises? Will she not think it better to sit under the cloth of State like a Queen, then in a poor House like a House-wife? Yes, yes, Euphrates; thou mayest swim against the Stream with a Crab, feed against the wind with the Deer, and pick against the steel with the Cockatrice: Stars are to be looked at, not reached at; Courtiers to be yeilded to, not contented with Greceana to be honoured, not obtained; for she is the onely pattern of that Eternity which Iupiter dream'd a sleep, could not conceive again waking: But the feeding Can­ker of my ca [...]e, the never [...]ying worm [...] my heart, is to be kill'd by coun­sel, not cryes; by applying of remedies, not by replying of reasons: And sith in cases desperate there must be used Medicines that are extream, I will hazard that little life that is left to restore the greater part that is lost: And this shall be my first practise, for Will must work where Authority is not; as soon as Perco has made his Oration, and declared what he intends to speak, I will by device pierce his heart by some strange Weapon, that by that means I may speak with her, and utter my love, and dye with denial, as conceale it, and live with despair.

Why so melancholy?

Faith not well; troubled with some affairs.

Be patient, time may work a period to them, and you may sit crown'd with Lawrel, and relate the story with helexity of those painful hours you have spent in pursute after her.

Those dayes would be golden ones to me.

Fear not.

Come let us retire to our Lodgings, to morrow they will be here, at which [...]me wee'l meet'em.

I'le follow.

ACT. IV.
SCAEN. IV.

PRincely Lady, how unworthy am I to imploy my ser­vices in honor of your vertues! how hopeless my de­sires are to enjoy your rare opinion, and muchless your love, are onely matters of despair, unless you give large warrant to my boldness, my feeble-wing'd Ambition—

My Lord, I interrupt you not.

Oft have I turn'd the Lesson of my sorrow to sweeten discord and inrich your pitty, but all in vain; there had my com­forts sunk, & near rise again to hear the story of the dispairing Lover, had not now, even now, your ingenuous disposition—

Come, out with it.

After some fit disputes of our condition betwixt your Highness and my lowness, gave consent, which did imbolden, then incourage my faltering tongue.

How's that? how?

I give consent to your fond fancies leading, which is more pernicious then that under Tongues of Asps, which is most deadly and emidicable?

Though not your hand with your body, Madam, yet your affection, with disposition, (as I understand) gave Li­cense.

It shall not need my Lord; you are a servant, pleading by the priviledge of Nature; though I might command, my care shall only conceal what it hath not forced: I can but make one choice, and it is made e're this.

To whom?

Euphrates..

Tyes of Marriage are Tenors not of will, but during life; I want skill to choose without directions of example in this Land; for which I daylie learn, by how much more you take upon you the roughness of a Courtier, by so much more I am engaged to [Page 19] flie from you, by the reason of the duty I owe to Euphrates, for respects of Birth, degrees of Title, and advancement; I nor ad­mire, nor slight them; all my study shall ever aim at this perfe­ction, only to live and dye so, that you may see in any course of mine, I still remain in constancie until the thred of Life be cut by Fates.

Madam, remember your self.

It is decreed we must yeild to Fate, whose angry Justice though it threaten ruine, contempt, and poverty, is all but try­al of a weak womans constancy in suffering; here in a strangers and a eminent hand forsaken, and unfurnished of all hopes, but such as wait on misery, I range to meet affliction whereso ere I tread my train; and pomp of servants is reduced to none but rough Jaylors and most sad imprisoners; yet yeild I not my Lord to them.

ACT. IV.
SCAEN. V.

SEeing no perswasions will prevail, nor once move thy in­durable heart, some other means must be invented, which in short time I'le produce; in this same Garden here shall be e­rected the unhappy Gibbet of thy Fate:

Seeing no perswasions will prevaile with thee, there thou shalt hang even for thy constancy.

The churless brow of War (my Lord) is a sight of hor­ror for Ladyes entertainment; if thou hearst a truth of my sad ending by the hand of some unnatural subject, thou with all shall hear how I dyed worthy of my right by falling like a con­stant Virgin; and in my close, which my last breath shall sound, Euphrates thou comliest, shall sing a Requiem to my soul, unwil­ling only of great glory, cause divided from such a Heaven on Earth, as life with thee.

[Page 20]

I hear she still remembers me; though out of sight, yet not out of mind; shall I make known my self, and by the force of us two, relieve her from that Tyrants hand?

No, by no means; I'le devise a plot that with a little pa­tience things best becoming our minds it may to us produce.

Let's hear't.

While he his Mistress there is courting, I in the same manner will him counterfeit in courting you; and not able of my self, perceiving to my intreats, yet you give leave, will to him moan make; but why should I relate it any further, let me alone, I will it accomplish.

Then manage it.

Else I will for my bold attempt suffer what your plea­sure is ready to give sentence.

If you to my love will yeild, you shall enjoy the sweet­ness of liberty and favor, and sleep securely; and is not this now better then to befit the Hang-mans clutches, which certainly you shall do if yeild you'l not, or to buy the cordage of a tough Halter, which will break your neck? Be no longer constant, but yeild, and hope for pardon.

Oh▪ step to him, else hee'l mischief her.

Be patient, sir.

For pardon! hold thy heart-strings, whiles contempt of injuries in scorn may bid defiance to thee and base foul Lan­guage: Thou poor Vermine! how darest thou creep so near me? thou a Lord! nay, thou a slave▪ why, thou enjoyest as much of happiness as all the sling of slight ambition flew at; a Dung­hil was thy Cradle; so a Puddle by vertue of the Suns beams, breathes a Vapor to infect the pure air, which drops again into the muddy Womb that first exhales it; bread, and a slavish ease, with some assurance from the Beadles Whip, crown'd all thy happiness: But let all the world, as all to whom I am this day a spectacle, time to deliver by tradition six posterities with­out another Chronicle then truth; Lyon, constantly my resolu­tions suffered.

What man is he that would suffer himself to be thus a­bused? I will no longer expect Executioner, but play his part [Page 21] my self now in his absence; I, poor Vermine, darest thou creep so near? no longer then shall mercy hold this hand, or Love be overswayer of this Weapon; Ile end thy life. He draws his sword

Oh! step to him, I wish now my Womens clothes were off.

Sir, no injury to women do; for that case is mine, though to you unknown; the passages of you two Lovers I have seen, which if't you'd minded, might in like case have perceived mine: Therefore give leave, and yeild to nature; be more mise­rable, for I shall never endure to see such havock with drye eyes: Speak, speak the fair Lady.

Sir, let us two Virgins taste your bounty, and both your mercies in this, that at a time of night so late, a place so private as this Garden is, to spare the lives of both us two, and grant that both your valours shall encounter, and upon whom that fortune please to smile, shall make his choice of our two Wills, Bodies, and Affections, and you both covert a liberal grace: Grant to my entreats a happy reply.

To you I yeild.

In like manner I intend if this same Lady she be plea­sed

I am.

Times have their changes, sorrows make men wise;

The Sun it self must set as well as rise.

To morrow then I'le meet you in the Castle Yard, where I'm resolv'd death or life [...]here to receive.

There then of youl'le wait in expectation.

Since I this motion here have made, instead of you will meet him there my self.

Will you?

My self I will because I may send his ever boyling blood into the air to breed strange Vapors.

You are resolv'd?

I am.

SCAEN. I.

THE Act is done.

And no blemish thereby you received?

None; great thanks to Jove I give for this most dan­gerous Encounter there by me performed, and limiting out my life thus far, to be revenged of him that alwaies desired hate▪ Go fetch Greceana in, take upon you the victory, and challenge your demand.

I shall do any thing wherein I may perform my duty I to you there owe.

Ladyes, both of you my Enterprises are, and only by the strength of this poor mortal Arm, which many Herculian Blows hath undergone, which hath been for no other cause but this, That I amongst your servants may be numbred one; but since it hath been the ingenuous disposition of your birth to grant to him, whosoever Fortune gave the victory should en­joy his choice, therefore whatsoe're I make, or service soe're I do, it is to you.

To me, my Lord?

I, to you, and no other person, Madam.

Am I then cast off my Lord? 'Tis no matter, I shall undergo it with as much ease as power doth able me.

I am in that case worse then ever I was; before I was most miserable, but now no misery is to be conceived in comparison of this; seeing my Lord it is my unhappy, or happy Fortune, (I do not know how to tearm it as yet) to be yours by Lot, not by Consent, I shall desire to know of what A [...]ian and Nation your valour is descended.

To name my Predecessors to this day, of whose Atto­mes the structure of this body of mine doth consist, it were a thing too too superfluous; but my Father was a Germane, of a [Page 23] Noble Blood, and of which Nation I proceed.

A Germane, that's my native Soyle, and in which en­dures the Diadems of my wishes.

Are you of that Country?

I.

Blest is my soul thus happily to be led amongst my friends, but thinking to have been foes: Madam, in what part? for travellers are somewhat quisitive.

From the Court.

Still happiness doth abound.

We both fair one, from thence doth take our course, and not in any place in which we came as yet did take abode un­til with wisht prosperity we were cast upon this experiential happy Land, in whose bowels I have you found, which causeth my future trouble to be now present pleasure

I'm glad of that; but further I'le you examine; There was a person when I there did live, descended of noble blood, Eu­phrates by his Name, who was a subject to his Majesty, and in great favor with him, if you did know.

We did, Madam.

Is he alive, or dead?

His never dying deeds are still alive; for his valiant acts are such as they'l never be in that Nation out of memory extirpa­ted, but doth daylie shew themselves more glorious in their co­lours; but for his Body, Person, and his Vertues, hath sung a Requies to Elizium, where all the bodies of good men doth lye.

I, for certain Madam, he is dead

Dead!

Oh Heavens, and all your influence▪ do your Justice here upon this body of mine, in doing this unnatural act to try a Womans constancy: Oh my Dear! he's living, still living to do thee service, and I am the man; no breath she still receives: Come blow you Eastern Winds, and all you four Points joyne here in one to make a prosperous Gale, that by the vertue of that sweet structure, it may breath some life to my dying Love; wherein I may relate my folly in doing this unto her: Oh joyful sight! she breaths; hold her up! give her more air! it's I, it's I [Page 24] Euphrates thy dear friend, and lo, I strip me from my Woman. Clothes, in which I was disguised from thee, here did undertake this voyage for no other cause but to relieve thee from this bondage of tyranizing Monsters; it was I that kill [...]d Perco thy deadly Foe, and he that was in thy sight I know most hainous: Speak my Dear, speak, if not, I dye with thee; therefore from this most hellish torment speak and relieve me; I know I'm guil­ty, and 'twas my folly in doing this, therefore am dutiful to o­bey the sentence of what Justice you command; here I lye down at thy feet, thy kind Euphrates in his love, but unkind in doing this.

Rise, rise, thou happiest of all men in my sight; I have past some silent time in a slumbring swound, which for the love of thee was no other cause.

I know't full well, and am ashamed to live, to hear how basely I have unto thee done.

Then let that pass, I'm guilty as well as you; fear lest we trench upon vain time too much, and here stand pratling until it hath uptript our lingring heels.

'Tis true; but I shall ne'er be my own man again, think­ing how basely I did deal with her: Come fair Grece [...]na, let's no longer stay upon this unknown ground, but haste away to our native Country.

I am ready to obey, and rejoyce to hear the mo­tion.

ACT. V.
SCAEN. II.

SHe's a coming, see you manage it.

Fear not, let me alone, I'le warrant thee Lad: Oh my pretty little Minks! art thou come? here I am in expe­ctation of thee.

Are you the man of valour that would speak with me.

I am the man of valour, and only valour it self that would speak with thee.

Mrs. He is a man of unknown parts, excellent in birth, and of an undaunted courage.

Is he so? by his shew he should be none of these, for he hath a foolish look.

Nay, Mrs. I'm the valorous Gentleman that ever Nati­on bred; for not long since in streets where I was walking, met with two Constables which charged me with felony, saying I had kill'd a man▪ but to say truth, I was in that quarrel, where I had my head beaten as soft as a Foot-Ball, upon which I had dyed if I had not been valourous; and then my courage rising, I took one of the Foot-men there standing by, a deadly blow, run­ning most nimbly away, and throwing over two children that there stood; was not this valour?

I know not what you count valour, sir.

Why, I count all my deeds valour; nay, and besides at that time I was so basely cut, that I run under the Table, where perchance (saving your presence) my Breech stuck out, upon which I had such a blow that I limp ore since; come Nesto, joul my head and this Post together, and see whether I can indure it or no with courage.

I know you are valorous, but Ile try.

With all my heart—Harder—nay harder still—still—Oh! oh! so no more—nay, no more—no more—hold—Do you see now, pretty Sparrow, how I can undergo it.

[Page 26]

Excellent, but your Band stands wrong.

Nay, It is my face stands wrong; but I'le use my self no more to this foolish fashion.

Now thou holds thy face crooked.

That's because I would have an eye in my—

Out you beastly, baudy, blockish, and most nasty fel­low; you a man of valour, you a man of Clouts; look how eve­ry joint of his fraile body quivers.

It is singing Prick-song.

Ile prick thy Skin full of oylet Holes.

Nay, is she gone? I'm glad of it; is this your brave Mi­stress that should be my Wife, that every word will bite off my Nose, and every stroke will punch my Skin full of oylet Holes? I was never in such a dirty case in all dayes of my life; I am up to the ears in my own dung.

Avaunt; out you nasty Bare; come along with me.

To my Aunts! oh! by no means to my Aunts; I would not have her know for a Cow.

I say, Avaunt.

Avaunt, nay then Ile go along with you, if you'l be sure to purge me clean, and whip me soundly that I may so no more do.

ACT. V.
SCAEN. III.

I Understand it well that you would be in Matrimonie vvith my poor Girl, Medea.

'Tis true, I have been tost by Sea and Land to unknown ground, where never habitants was, still none to me that I can find more pleasing to me then Medea; she sits like Sol, berayed with Stars most bright, lighting vvith her stellation the most te­nebrosious place of Fercors heart, and I the only spectator not daring to presume to be an Actor, doth pine vvith despair.

Take you great courage, not daunt your valorous spi­rit, though you have been my servant, of my poor will now Master is, therefore Ile fetch her, and see what her stout mind will yeild unto.

ACT. V.
SCAEN. IV.

YOU must, you must.

Father, forbear, I cannot.

Madam, may it please your goodness to honor my affe­ctions so far, as to adorn me with the salutation of your hand.

What, sure instead of professing Navigation, you are turned Courtier, a meer bundle of Complements; I take it for an affront, and my spirit will digest no rude affronts; though I be a Woman by Nature, yet hath a manly courage to disdain you.

Despise not his affection.

Father, if you did know how I do loath the sight of this man, [Page 28] I am perswaded then you would no further me urge; I cannot give him one good word, muchless one pleasing look, or with him dissemble in the Climate of Affection.

Madam, if your fraile mind unto one of these particu­lars will yeild, I hope you will not shut me so far out of memo­ry, but I to have so much priviledg in your affection, as to beautifie my self with the real Badge of your smiles, and to be reckoned amongst the honored company of your servants.

Certainly the man doth rave; let him go to bed and have more sleep, and I hope he will be more himself.

Nay, take your choice, if you do make him your by­word, not yeilding to his intreats, be sure your self whenso­e're your Petition comes to my ear, it shall not once pierce my mind.

Euphrates is the man whom you very well know that ever since I knew the force of Loves Weapons, hath imbalmed him up to be the only carper of the Blossoms of my Virginity.

But say Euphrates should be engaged to that only Para­mour of Virgins, Greceana by name, then I hope some other should be the happy Extorser of your youth prime.

What answer you?

That he should.

ACT. V.
SCAEN. V.

AFter so many storms as Wind and Seas have threat­ned to our Weather-beaten ship, at last sweet fairest [Page 29] we are safely arrived on our dear Mothers earth; ungratefull only to heaven and us, in yeelding not before our happy arrival! How farest thou my Dearest yet?

Confirmed in health, by which I may better undergo the roughest face of change; but I shall learn patience to hope, since silence courts affection for comforts to this truly noble Gentleman, rare exampled patern of a friend.

I wait but as the shadow to the body; for, Madam, without you let me be nothing▪

Though she hath cost me many a redouning blow in fetching her to this her native Land, yet without license of a Fathers will, I will be—

Question not my liberality, my onlie son, my onlie dear and and joy; I here imbrace thee, likewise wishing thee to imbrace Greceana for the sake of me; injoy her, and take her.

Father your bountie in granting to your child his de­sire is not to be paralleld; therefore when bright Sol descends his fiery Trigion into the more concavity of the Earth; or pale Cynthia traces about her Orb; then shall you by real aspect confirm us to be man and wife.

I rejoyce to hear it.

Medea, now behold he is gone, whom you thought alwayes had been sure; therefore be no more thus obstinate, but bend your minde to his affection.

Certainly it was nere decreed by Fate or Fortune for him and me to be once, made one.

My dutie stil stand obedient to your wil, not daring to resist, nor can without breaking a solemn oath: Therefore your pleasure is a command for me to obey with great grati­tude, thinking to me an immense beatitude.

Wood I's behangd it was a dangerous business I took in hand; for standing, sitting, lying, and tumbling, I believe nere a Jack- [...]udding in town wil do it.

[Page 30]

Thy reason Pudd.

Ha, ha, ha, I have neither sense nor reason; ha, ha, ha: Stay messe yonder comes my Master; I wil go salute him with a rare sentence only of my own brains invention; Oh how my tongue now warbles in my mouth to thinke of 't! Blew leu leu leu.

Go, go, thou art not mad; why loyterest thou?

Master—

What then?

I am here—

Art thou alive?

Stil for you to beat—

Me to beat?

Me into good service.

I have been in study ever since you were gone, in Sci­ences of invaluble worth, and hath profited very little

Name some of those, I desire to hear him talk.

What are they?

Nandivigation, Astronimation, Mucinification, Fid­lication, and Lutination; Do you understahd me Master, if please your worship?

Very wel and excellent.

I am versed but little yet, hoping to be better:

Give over musing, I wil thee interrupt, give me my answer:

Father, what your indulgent clemency thinks most convenient for my youth and person, I am ready to give ear:

My minde is to have Fercor:

Parents must have their wils, and children must obey; therefore compeld, Fercor I am thine.