YOu teach me language, sir, as one that knows the Debt of Love I owe unto their Vertues, wherein like a true Courtier I have fed my self with hope of fair Success, and now at­tend your wisht consent to my long Suit.

Believe me, youthful Lord, time could not give an op­portunity more fitting your desires, always provided my Daugh­ters love be suited with my Grant.

'Tis the condition sir, her Promise seal'd.

Ist so, Constantia?

I was content to give him words for oathes, he swore so oft he lov'd me.

That thou believest him?

He is a man I hope.

That's in the trial Girl.

However I am a woman, sir.

The Law's on thy side then, sha't have a Husband, I, and a worthy one: Take her brave Cornwal, and make our happiness great as our wishes.

Sir, I thank you.

Double the fortunes of the day, my Lord, and crown my wishes too: I have a son here, who in my absence would protest no less unto your other Daugh­ter.

Ha Gloster, is it so? what says Lord Edwin? will she protest as much to thee?

Else must she want some of her Sisters faith, Sir.

Of her credulity much rather, Sir: My Lord, you are a Soldier, and methinks the height of that Profession should di­minish all heat of Loves desires, being so late employ'd in blood and ruine.

The more my Conscience tyes me to re­pair [Page] the worlds losses in a new succession.

Necessity it seems ties your affections then, and at that rate I would unwilling­ly be thrust upon you, a wife is a dish soon cloys, sir.

Weak and diseased appetites it may.

Most of your making have dull stomacks sir.

If that be all Girl, thou shalt quicken him, be kinde to him

Noble Edwin, let it suffice what's mine in her, speaks yours;

You give me comfort sir.

Now Toclio.

The King, my honor'd Lords, requires your presence, and calls a Councel for return of answer unto the parling enemy, whose Embassadors are on the way to Court.

So sudden­ly, Chester it seems has ply'd them hard at war, they sue so fast for peace, which by my advice they ne're shall have, unless they leave the Realm. Come noble Gloster, let's attend the King, it lies sir in your Son to do me pleasure, and save the charges of a Wedding Dinner,

I'le do my best.

Now Toclio, what stirring news at Court?

Oh my Lord, the Court's all fill'd with rumor, the City with news, and the Country with wonder, and all the bells i'th' Kingdom must proclaim it, we have a new Holy­day a coming.

A holy-day! for whom? for thee?

Me, Madam! 'sfoot I'de be loath that any man should make a holy-day for me yet: In brief 'tis thus, there's here arriv'd at Court, sent by the Earl of Chester to the King, a man of rare e­steem for holyness, a reverent Hermit, that by miracle not onely saved our army, but without aid of man o'rethrew the pagan Host, and with such wonder sir, as might confirm a Kingdom to his faith.

This is strange news indeed, where is he?

In conference with the King that much respects him.

Trust me, I long to see him.

Faith you will finde no great pleasure in him, for ought that I can see Lady, they say he is half a Prophet too, would he could tell me any news of the lost Prince, there's twenty Talents offer'd to him that finds him.

Such news was breeding in the morning.

And now it has birth and life sir, if fortune bless me I'le once more search those woods where then we lost him, I know not yet what fate may follow me.

Fortune go with you sir, come fair Mistriss, your Sister and Lord Edwin are in game, and all their wits at stake to win the Set.

My sister has the hand yet, we had best leave them,

You are a cunning Gamester, Madam.

It is a desperate Game indeed this Marriage, where there's no winning without loss to either.

Why, what but your perfection noble Lady, can bar the worthiness of this my suit? if so you please I count my happiness, from difficult obtain­ing, you shall see my duty and observance.

There shall be place to neither, noble sir, I do beseech you let this mild Reply give answer to your suit, for here I vow if e're I change my Virgin name by you, it gains or looses.

My wishes have their crown.

Let them con­fine you then, as to my promise, you give faith and credence?

In your command my willing absence speaks it.

Noble and vertuous: could I dream of Marriage, I should affect thee Edwin: oh my soul, here's something tells me that these best of creatures, these models of the world, weak man and woman, should have their souls, their making, life, and being, to some more excellent use: if what the sense calls pleasure were our ends, we might justly blame great natures wisdom, who rear'd a building of so much art and beauty to entertain a guest so far in­certain, so imperfect: if onely speech distinguish us from beasts, who know no inequality of birth or place, but still to [...]ly from goodness: oh, how base were life at such a rate! no, no, that power that gave to man his being, speech, and wisdom, gave it for thankfulness: To him alone that

No tiding of our brother yet? 'Tis strange, so ne're the Court, and in our own Land too, and yet no news of him: oh [Page] this loss tempers the sweetness of our happy conquests, with much untimely sorrow.

Royal sir, his safety being unque­stion'd, should to time leave the redress of sorrow, were he dead, or taken by the foe, our fatal loss had wanted no quick Herald to dis­close it.

That hope alone sustains me, nor will we be so ingrateful unto heaven to question what we fear, with what we enjoy. Is answer of our message yet return'd from that religi­ous man, the holy Hermit, sent by the Earl of Chester to confirm us in that miraculous act? For 'twas no less, our Army being in rout, nay, quite o'rethrown, as Chester writes; even then this holy man arm'd with his cross and staff, went smiling on, and boldly fronts the foe; at sight of whom the Saxons stood amaz'd: for to their seeming, above the Hermit head appear'd such brightness, such clear and glorious beams as if our men march't all in fire, wherewith the Pagans fled, and by our troops were all to death pursu'd.

Oh Gloster, he's a jewelworth a Kingdom: where's Oswold with his answer?

'Tis here my Royal Lord.

In writing, will he not sit with us?

His Orizons perform'd, he bad me say he would attend with all submission.

Proceed to councel then, and let some give order, the Embassadors being come, to take our answer, they have admittance. Oswold, Toclio, be it your charge: and now my Lords, observe the holy councel of this reveren'd Hermit:

As you respect your safety, limit not that onely power that hath protected you, trust not an open enemy too far,

Powerful and pithie, which my advice confirms, no man leaves physick when his sickness slakes, but doubles the [...]eceipts: the word of Peace seems fair to blood-shot eyes; but being appli'd with such a medicine as blinds all the sight, argues desire of Cure, but not of Art.

You argue from defects, if both the name, and the condition of the Peace be one, it is to be prefer'd, and in the offer made by the Saxon, I see nought repugnant.

The time of Truce requir'd for thirty days, carries su­spicion in it, since half that space will serve to strength their weak­ned Regiment.

Who in less time will undertake to [Page] free our Country from them.

Leave that unto our for­tune.

Is not our bold, and hopeful General still Ma­ster of the field, their Legious faln, the rest intrencht for fear, half starv'd, and wounded, and shall we now give o're our fair ad­vantage? force heaven, my Lord, the danger is far more, in trusting to their words, then to their weapons.

The Embassadors are come sir.

Conduct them in, we are resolv'd my Lords, since policy fail'd in the begin­ning, it shall have no hand in the conclusion, that heavenly power that hath so well begun their fatal overthrow I know can end it, from which fair hope, my self will give them answer.

What's here, a woman Orator?

Peace Dono­bert, speak, what are you Lady?

The sister of the Sax­on General, warlike Ostorius the East Anglese King, my name Ar­tesia, who in terms of love brings peace and health to great Aurelius, wishing she may return as fair a present as she makes tender of.

The fairest present e're mine eyes were blest with, com­mand a chair there for this Saxon Beauty: sit Lady, we'l confer: your warlike brother sues for a peace, you say?

With endless love unto your State and Person.

Ha's sent a moving Orator believe me, what thinkst thou Donobert?

Believe me sir, were I but yong agen this gilded pill might take my stomack quickly.

True, thou art old, how soon we do forget our own defects. Fair damsel, oh my tongue turns Traitor, and will betray my heart, sister to our enemy: 's death her beauty mazes me, I cannot speak if I but lock on her, what's that we did conclude?

This Royal Lord.

Pish, thou canst not utter it: fair'st of creatures▪ tell the King your Brother that we in love, ha! and honor to our Country, command his Armies to depart our Realm, but if you please fair soul-Lord Donobert, deliver you our pleasure.

I shall sir, Lady return, and certifie your brother.

Thou art t [...]o blunt, and rude, return so soon, fie, let her stay, and send some messenger to certifie our pleasure.

What meanes your Grace?

To give her time of rest to her long Journey, we would not willingly be thought▪ uncivil.

Great King [Page] of Bri [...]ain, let [...] not seem strange to embrace the Princely Offers of a friend,

She speakes of Love agen, sure 'tis my fear, she knows I do not hate her.

Be then thy self most great Aureliu [...], and let not envy, nor a deeper sin in these thy Councellors, deprive thy goodness of that fair honor, we in seeking peace, give first to thee, who never use to sue but force our wishes▪ yet if this seem light, oh let my sex, though worthless your respect, take the report of thy humanity,

This flattery is gross sir, hear no more on't, Lady, these childish comple­ments are needless, you have your answer, and believe it, Madam, his Grace, though yong, doth wear within his breast too grave a Councellor to be seduc't by smoothing flattery, or oyly words.

I come not sir, to wooe him.

'Twere folly if you should, you must not wed him, shame take thy tongue, being old and weak thy self, thou doat'st, and looking on thine own de­fects, speak'st what thoud'st wish in me, do I command the deeds of others, mine own act not free?

Most fair Artesia, see the King descends to give thee welcome with these warlike Saxons, and now on equal terms both sues and grants, in stead of Truce, let a perpetual League seal our united bloods in holy marriage, send the East Angles King this happy news, that thou with me hast made a League for ever, and added to his state a friend and brother: speak dearest Love, dare you confirm this Title?

I were no woman to deny a good so high and noble to my fame and Country.

Live then a Queen in Brittain.

He meanes to marry her.

Death! he shall marry the devil first, marry a Pagan, an Idolater.

He has won her quickly.

She was woo'd afore she came sure, or came of purpose to conclude the Match.

Who dares oppose our will? my [Page] Lord of Gloster, be you Embassador unto our Brother, the Brother of our Queen [...], tell him for such our entertainment looks him, our marriage adding to the happiness,

Who's this, the Hermit? Welcome my happiness, our Countries hope, most reverent holy man, I wanted but thy blessing to make perfect the infinite sum of my felicity.

Thou art deceiv'd, see here what I have found, Beauty, Alliance, Peace, and strength of Friends, all in this all exceeding excellence, the League's confirm'd.

With the great Brother of this Beauteous woman, the Royal Saxon King.

Oh then I see, and fear thou art too near thy misery, what magick could so linck thee to this mischief by all the good that thou hast reapt by me, stand further from destruction.

Well spoke old Father, too him, bait him soundly, now by heavens blest Lady, I can scarce keep patience.

What devil is this?

That cursed Christian, by whose hellish charmes our army was o're­thrown.

Why do you dally sir? oh tempt not heaven, warm not a serpent in your naked bosom, discharge them from your Court.

Thou speak'st like madness, command the frozen shepherd to the shade, when he sits warm i'th' Sun, the fe­ver sick to add more heat unto his burning pain, these may obey, 'tis less extremity then thou enjoynst to me: cast but thine eye upon this beauty, do it, I'le forgive thee, though jealousie in others findes no pardon, then say thou dost not love me, I shall then swear th'art immortal, and no earthly man, oh blame then my morta [...]lity; no [...] me.

It is thy weakness brings thy [...] Prince.

Be milder in thy doom.

'Tis you that must indure heavens doom, which faln, remember's just.

Thou shalt not live to see it: how [Page] fares my Lord? [...] my poor presence breed dislike, great Prince, I am no such neglected soul, will seek to tie you to your word.

My word dear Love, may my Religion, Crown, State, and Kingdom fail, when I fail thee, command Earl Chester to break up the camp, without disturbance to our Saxon friends, send every hour swift posts to hasten on the King her Brother, to conclude this League, this endless happy Peace of Love and Marriage, till when provide for Revels, and give charge that nought be wanting, which make our Triumphs

How much the oft report of this blest Hermit, hath won on my desires; I must behold him, and sure this should be he, oh the worlds folly, proud earth and dust, how low a price bears goodness, all that should make man absolute, shines in him: much reverent Sir, may I without offence give interruption to your holy thoughts?

That which [...]till now ne're found a language in me, I am in love.

With your Religious Life? Your Vertue, Goodness, if there be a name to express affection greater, that, that would I learn and utter: Reverent Sir, if there be any thing to bar my suit, be chari­table and expose it, your prayers are the same Orizons, which I will number. Holy Sir, keep not instruction back from willingness, possess me of that knowledge leads you on to this humility, for well I know were greatness good, you would not live so low.

Your name and vertues meet, a Modest Virgin, live ever in the sanctimonious way to Heaven and Happiness, there's goodness in you, I must instruct you further; come look up, behold yon firmament, there sits a power, whose foot-stool is this earth, oh learn this lesson,

AWay, follow me no further, I am none of thy brother, what with Childe, great with Childe, and knows not whose the Father on't, I am asham'd to call thee Sister.

Nay, I believe that, he gives arms, and legs too, and has made you the Herald to blaze 'em, but Ioan, Ioan, sister Ioan, can you tell me his name that did it: how shall we call my Cousin, your bastard, when we have it?

Alas, I know not the Gentlemans name Brother, I met him in these woods, the last great hunting, he was so kinde and proffer'd me so much, as I had not the heart to ask him more.

Not his name, why this showes your Country breeding now, had you been brought up i'th [...] City, you'd have got a Father first, and the childe afterwards: hast thou no markes to know him by.

He had most rich Attire, a fair Hat and Feather, a gilt Sword, and most excellent Hangers.

Pox on his Hangers, would he had bin gelt for his labor.

Had you but heard him swear you would have thought.

I as you did, swearing and lying goes together still, did his Oathes get you with Childe, we shall have a roaring Boy then yfaith, well sister, I must leave you.

Dear Brother stay, help me to finde him out, I'le ask no further.

'Sfoot who should I finde? who should I ask for?

Alas I know not, he uses in these woods, and these are witness of his oathes and promise.

We are like to have a hot suit on't, when our best witness's but a Knight 'ath Post.

Do but enquire this Forrest, I'le go with you, some happy fate may guide us till we meet him.

Meet him, and what name shall we have for h [...]m, when we weet him? 'Sfoot thou neither knowst him, nor canst tell what to call him, was ever man tyr'd with such a business, to have a sister got with childe, and know not who did it; well, you shall see him, I'le do my best for [Page] you, Ile make Proclamation, if these Woods and Trees, as you say, will bear any witness, let them answer; Oh yes: If there be any man that wants a name, will come in for conscience sake, and acknowledge himself to be a Whore-Master, he shal have that laid to his charge in an hour, he shall not be rid on in an age; if he have Lands, he shall have an heir, if he have patience, he shall have a wife, if he have neither Lands nor patience, [...]e shall have a whore, so ho boy, so ho, so, so.

So, ho, by, so, ho, illo ho, illo ho.

Hark, hark sister, there's one hollows to us, what a wicked world's this, a man cannot so soon name a whore but a knave comes presently, and see where he is, stand close a while, sister.

How like a voice that Eccho spake, but oh my thoughts are lost for ever in amazement, could I but meet a man to tell her beauties, these trees would bend their tops to kiss the air, that from my lips should give her praises up.

He talk's of a woman, sister.

View him well, you see he has a fair Sword, but his Han­ger's are faln.

Here did I see her first, here view her beauty, oh had I known her name, I had been happy.

Sister this is he sure, he knows not thy name neither, a couple of wise fools yfaith, to get children and know not one ano­ther.

You weeping leaves, upon whose tender cheeks doth stand a flood of tears at my complaint, and heard my vows and oathes.

Law, Law, he has been a great swearer too, 'tis he sister.

For having overtook her, as I have seen a forward blood-hound, strip the swifter of the cry ready to seize his wished hopes, upon the sudden view struck with astonish­ment at his arriv'd prey, instead of seizure stands at fearful bay,

Pigmalion, then I tasted thy sad fate, wh [...]se Ivory picture, and my fair were one, our dotage past imagination, I saw and felt desire.

Pox a your fingering, did he feel sister?

But enjoy'd now, oh fate, thou hadst thy days and nights to feed,

Give me thy hand sister, The Childe has found his Father, this is he sure, as I am a man, had I been a woman these kinde words would have won me, I should have had a great belly too that's certain; well, I'le speak to him: most honest and fleshly minded Gentleman, give me your hand sir.

Ha, what art thou, that thus rude and boldly, darest take notice of a wretch so much ally'd to misery as I am?

Nay, Sir, for our aliance, I shall be found to be a poor brother in Law of your worships, the Gen­tlewoman you spake on, is my sister, you see what a clew she spreads, her name is Ioan Go-too't, I am her elder, but she has been at it before me: 'tis a womans fault, pox a this bashfulness, come forward Iug, prethee speak to him.

Have you e're seen me Lady?

Seen ye, ha, ha, It seems she has felt you too, here's a yong Go-too't a coming sir, she is my sister, we all love to Go-too't, as well as your worship, she's a Maid yet, but you may make her a wife, when you please sir.

I am amaz'd with wonder: Tell me woman, what sin have you committed wor­thy this?

Do you not know me sir?

Know thee! as I do thunder, hell, and mischief, witch, stal­lion, hag.

I see he will marry her, he speaks so like a husband.

Death, I will cut their tongues out for this blasphemy, strumpet, villain, where have you ever seen me?

Speak for your self with a pox to ye.

Slaves, Ile make you curse your selves for this temptation.

Oh sir, if ever you did speak to me, it was in smoother phrase, in fairer language.

Lightning consume me, if I ever saw thee, my rage o'reflowes my blood, all patience flies me.

Hold I beseech you sir, I have nothing to [...]ay to you.

Help, help, murder, murder.

Make haste Sir, this way the sound came, it was a wood.

See where she is, and the Prince, the price of all our wishes.

The Prince say ye, ha's made a poor Subject of me I am sure.

Sweet Prince, noble Vter, speak, how fare you sir?

Dear sir, recal your self, your fearful absence hath won too much already on the grief of our sad King, from whom our laboring search hath had this fair success in meeting you.

His silence, and his looks argue di­straction.

Nay, he's mad sure, he will not acknow­ledge my sister, nor the childe neither.

Let us entreat your Grac [...] along with us, your sight will bring new life, to the King your Brother.

Will you go sir?

Yes, any whether, guide me, all's hell I see,

Man may change air, but not his misery.

Lend me one word with you, sir.

Well said sister, he has a Feather, and fair Hangers too, this may be he.

What would you fair one.

Sure I have seen you in these woods e're this?

Trust me never, I never saw this place, till at this time my friend conducted me.

The more's my sorrow then.

Would I could comfort you: I am a Bachelor, but it seems you have a hus­band, you have been fouly o'reshot else.

A womans fault, we are all subject to go to't, sir.

Oswold away, the Prince will not stir a foot without you.

I am coming, farewel woman.

Prithee make haste.

Good sir, but one word with you e're you leave us.

With me fair soul?

Shee'l have a fling at him too, the Childe must have a Father.

Have you ne'er seen me sir?

Seen thee, 'Sfoot I have seen many fair faces in my time, prithee look up, and do not weep so, sure pretty wanton, I have seen this face before.

It is enough, though your ne're see me more.

'Sfoot she's faln, this place is inchanted sure, look to the woman fellow.

Oh she's dead! she's dead, as you are a man stay and help, sir: Ioan, Ioan, sister Ioan, why Ioan Go too't I say, will you cast away your self, and your childe, and me too, what do you mean, sister?

Oh give me pardon sir, 'twas too much joy [Page] opprest my loving thoughts, I know you were too noble to deny me, [...] ▪ Where i [...] he?

Who, the Gentleman? he's gone sister.

Oh! I am und one then, run, tell him I did but faint for joy, dear brother haste, why dost thou stay? oh never cease, till he give answer to thee.

He: which he? what do you call him tro?

Unnatural brother, shew me the path he took, why dost thou d [...]lly? speak, oh, which way went he?

This way, that way, through the bushes there.

Were it through fire, the Journey's easie, winged with sweet desire.

Hey day, there's some hope of this yet, Ile follow her for kindreds sake, if she miss of her purpose now, she'l challenge all she findes I see, for if ever we meet with a two leg'd creature in the whole Kingdom, the Childe shall have a Father that's certain.

Come Gloster, I do not like this hasty Marriage.

She was quickly wooed and won, not six days since ar­rived an enemy to sue for Peace, and now crown'd Queen of Brittain, this is strange.

Her brother too made as quick speed in coming, leaving his Saxons, and his starved Troops, to take the advantage whilst 'twas offer'd, fore heaven I fear the King's too [...]redulous, our Army is discharg'd too.

Yes, and our General commanded home, Son Edwin have you seen him since?

He's come to Court, but will not view the pre­sence, nor speak unto the King, he's so discontent at this so strange aliance with the Saxon, as nothing can perswade his patience.

You know his humor will indure▪ no check, no if the King oppose it, all crosses feeds both his spleen, and his impatience, those affections are in him like powder, apt to inflame with every little spark, and blow up all his reason.

Edol of Chester is a noble Soldier.

So is he by the Rood, ever most faithful to the King and Kingdom, how e're his passions guide him.

See where he comes, my Lord.

Welcome to Court, brave Earl.

Do not deceive me by your flat­teries: Is not the Saxon here? the League confirm'd? the Mar­riage ratifi'd? the Court divided with Pagan Infidels? the least part Christians, at least in their Commands? Oh the gods! it is a thought that takes away my sleep, and [...] my senses so I scarcely know you: Prepare my horses, Ile away to Chester.

What shall we do with our Companies, my Lord?

Keep them at home to increase Cuckolds, and get some C [...]ses for your Captainships, smooth up your brows, the wars has spoil'd your f [...]ccs, and few will now regard you.

Preserve you [...] patience, Sir.

Preserve your Honors, Lords, your Countries Safety, your Lives, and Lands from strangers: what black devil could so bewitch the King, so to discharge a Royal Army in the height of conquest? nay, even already made victorious, to give such credit to an enemy, a starved foe, a stragling fugitive, beaten beneath our feet, so love dejected, so servi [...]e, and so base, as hope of life had won them all, to leave the Land for ever?

It was the Kings will.

It was your want of wis­dom, that should have laid before his tender youth, the dangers of a State, where forain Powers bandy for Soveraignty with Law­ful Kings, who be [...]ng setled once, to assure themselves, will never fail to seek the blood and life of all competitors.

Your words sound well my Lord, and point at safety, both for the Realm and us, but why did you within whose power it lay, as General, with full Commission to dispose the war, lend ear to parly with the weakned foe?

Oh the good Gods!

And on that parly came this Embassie.

You will hear me.

Your letters did declare it to the King, both of the Peace, and all Conditions brought by this Saxon Lady, whose fond love has thus be witched him.

I will curse you all as black as hell, unless you hear me, your gross mistake would make wisdom her self run madding through the streets, and quarrel with her shadow, death! why kill'd ye not that woman?

Oh my Lord.

The great devil take me quick, had I been by, and all the [Page] women of the world were barren, she should have died e're he had married her on these condi [...]ions.

It is not rea­son that directs you thus.

Then have I none, for all I have directs me, never was man so palpably abus'd, so basely mar [...]ed, bought and sold to scorn, my Honor, Fame, and hopef [...]l Victories, the loss of Time, Expences, Blood and Fortunes, all vanisht into nothing.

This rage is vain my Lord, what the King does, nor they, nor you can help.

My Sword must fail me then.

'Gainst whom will you expose it?

What's that to you, 'gainst all the devils in hell to guard my country.

These are airy words.

Sir, you [...]read too hard upon my patience.

I speak the duty of a Subjects faith, and say agen had your been here in presence,

My Lord.

Come, come.

Now be­fore heaven.

Dear sir.

Not dare? thou liest be­neath thy lungs.

No more son Edwin.

I have done sir, I take my leave.

But thou shall not, you shall take no leave of me Sir.

For wisdoms sake my Lord.

Sir, I'le leave him, and you, and all of you, the Court and King, and let my Sword, and friends, [...] for Edol [...] safety: stay you here, and hug the Sa­xons, till they cut your throats, or b [...]ing the Land to servile slavery, such yokes of baseness, Chester must not suffer,

See how his rage transports him!

These passions set apart, a braver soldier breathes not i' th' world this day.

I wish his own worth do not court his [...]ine.

Why is the Court so dull? me thinks each room, and [Page] angle of our Palace should appear stuck full of objects fit for [...] and triumphs, to show ou [...] high content. Oswold fill wine, must we begin the Revels? be it so then, reach me the cup: Ile now begin a Health to our lov'd Queen, the bright Artesia, the Royal Saxon King, our warlike brother, go and command all the whole Court to pledge it, fill to the Hermit there▪ most reverent Ansel [...], wee'l do thee Honor first, to pledge my Queen.

I drink no healths great King, and if I did, I would be loath to part with health, to those that have no power to give it back agen.

Mistake not, it is the argument of Love and Duty to our Queen and us.

But he ows none it seems.

I do to vertue Madam, temperate minds covets that health to drink, which nature gives in every spring to man, he that doth hold

He speaks not like a guest to grace a wedding.

No sir, but like an envious imposter.

A Christian slave, a Cinick.

What vertue could decline your King­ly spirit, to such respect of him whose magick spells met with your vanquisht Troops, and turn'd your Arms to that necessity of fight, which the dispair of any hope to stand but by his charms, had been defeated in a bloody conquest?

'Twas magick, hell­bred magick did it sir, and that's a course my Lord, which we esteem in all our Saxon Wars, unto the last and lowest ebbe of servi [...]e treachery.

Sure you are deceiv'd, it was the hand of heaven, that in his vertue gave us victory, is there a power in man that can strike fear thorough a general camp, or create spirits, in recreant bosoms above present sense?

To blind the sense there may with apparition of well arm'd troops within themselves are air, form'd into humane shapes, and such that day were by that Sorcerer rais'd to cross our fortunes.

There is [...] law [Page] tells u [...], that words want force to make deeds void, examples must be shown by instances alike, e're I believe it.

'Tis easily perform'd, believe me sir, propose your own desires, and give but way to what our Magick here shall straight perform, and then let his or our deserts be censur'd.

We could not wish a greater happiness, then what this satisfaction brings with it, let him proceed, fair brother.

He shall sir, come learned Proximus, this task be thine, let thy great charms confound the o­pinion this Christian by his spells hath falsly won.

Great King, propound your wishes then, wha [...] persons, of what State, what numbers, or how arm'd, please your own thoughts, they shall appear before you.

Strange art! what thinkst thou reverent Hermit?

Let him go on sir.

Wilt thou behold his cunning?

I like thy confidence.

His sawcy impudence, proceed to'th' trial.

Speak your desires my Lord, and be it place't in any angle underneath the Moon, the center of the Earth, the Sea, the Air, the region of the fire, nay hell it self, and I'le present it.

Wee'l have no sight so fearful, onely this, if all thy art can reach it, show me here the two great Cham­pions of the Trojan War, Achilles and brave Hector, our grea [...] An­cestor, both in their warlike habits, Armor, Shields, and Weapons then in use for fight.

'Tis done, my Lord, command a halt and silence, as each man will respect his life or danger.

Quid vis?

Attend me.

The Apparition comes, on our displeasure let all keep place and silence.

What means this stay, bright Arm [...], Pl [...]sg [...]th? why fear you [Page] and fall back? [...] the Alarms, and enforce the Combat, or hel [...] or darkness circles you for ever

We dare not.

Ha!

What▪ at a Non-plus fi [...]? command them back for shame.

What power o're [...]aws my Spell! return you Hell-hounds▪ Armel, Plesgeth, double damnation seize you, by all the Infernal powers, the prince of devils is in this Hermits habit, what else could force my Spirits quake or tremble thus?

We [...]k argument to hide you [...] want of skill: does the devil fear the devil, or war with hell? they have not been acquainted long it seems. Know mis-believing Pagan, even that Power

Di [...]grace and mischief, Ile enforce new charms, new spells, and spirits rais'd from the low Aby [...]s of hells unbottom'd depths.

We have enough sir, give o're your charms, wee'l finde some other time to praise your Art. I dare not but acknowledge that heavenly Power my heart stands witness to: be not dismaid my Lords, at this disast [...]r, nor thou my fairest Queen▪ we'l change the Scen [...] to some more pleasing spo [...] ▪ Lead to your Chamber,

Which I shall adde to sir, with news I bring: The Prince your Brother, lives.

[...]!

And comes to grace [...] high and heaven-knit Marriage

Why dost thou flatter me, to make me think such hap­piness attends me?

His presence speaks my truth, sir.

Force me, [...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...] [Page] saw her, captived my senses, and thus many [...] bar'd me [...]froth [...] all society of men: how came she to this place, brother [...] [...] Speak that Angels name, her heaven-blest name, oh speak it [...] Sir.

It is Artesia, the Royal Saxon Princes [...].

A woman, and no Deity: no feigned shape, to mock the reason of admiring sense, on whom a hope as low as mine may live, love, and enjoy, dear Brother, may it not?

She is all the Good, or Vertue thou ca [...]st name, my Wife, my Queen.

Ha! your wife!

Which you shall finde sir, if that time and fortune may make my love but wor [...]hy of your tryal.

Oh!

What troubles you, dear Bro­ther? Why with so strange and fixt an eye dost thou behold my Joys?

You are not well, sir.

Yes, yes, oh you immortal powers, why has poor man so many entrances for sorrow to creep in at, when our sense is much too weak to hold his happiness? Oh say I was born deaf: and let your silence confirm in me the knowing my defect, at least be charitable to conceal my sin, for hearing is no less in me, dear Brother.

No more, I see thou art a Rival in the Joys of my high Bliss. Come my Artesia,

Stay, hear but a word; yet now I think on't,

Envy speaks no such words, has no such looks.

Sweet rest unto you both.

Lights to our Nup­tial Chamber.

Could you speak so, I would not fear how much my grief did grow.

Lights to our Chamber, on, on, set on.

Could you speak so, I would not fear how much my griefs did grow. Those were her very words, sure I am waking, she wrung me by the hand, and spake them to me with a most pas [...]io­nate affection, perhaps she loves, and now repents her choice, in marriage with my brother; oh fond man, how darest thou trust thy Traitors thoughts, thus to be [...]ray thy self? 'twas but a waking dream wherein thou madest thy wishes speak, not her, in which thy foolish hopes strives to prolong

The noble Prince, I take it sir.

You speak me what I should be, Lady.

Know by that name sir, Queen Artesia greets you.

Alas good vertue, how is she mista­ken.

Commending her affection in this Jewel, sir.

She binds my service to her: has a Jewel 'tis a fair one trust me, and methinks it much resembles something I have seen with her.

It is an artificial crab, Sir.

A crea­ture that goes backward.

True, from the way it looks.

There is no moral in it aludes to her self?

'Tis your construction gives you that sir, she's a woman.

And like this, may use her legs, and eyes two several ways.

Just like the Sea-crab, which on the Mussel prayes, whilst he bills at a stone.

Pretty in troth, prithee tell me, art thou honest?

I hope I seem no other, sir.

And those that seem so, are sometimes bad enough.

If they will accuse themselves for want of witness, let them, I am not so foolish.

I see th'art wise, come speak me truly, what is the greatest sin?

That which man never acted, what has been done Is as the least, common to all as one.

Dost think thy Lady is of thy opinion?

She's a bad Scholar else, I have brought her up, and she dares owe me still.

I, 'tis a fault in greatness, they dare owe many e're they pay one, but darest thou [...]pose thy scho­lar to my examining?

Yes in good troth sir, and pray [Page] put her to't too, 'tis a hard lesson if she answer it not.

Thou know'st the hardest.

As far as a woman may, sir.

I commend thy plainness, when wilt thou bring me to thy Lady?

Next opportunity I attend you, sir.

Thanks, take this, and commend me to her.

Think of your Sea-crab sir, I pray.

Oh by any means, Lady, what should all this tend to? if it be Love or Lust that thus incites her, the sin is horrid and in­cestuous; if to betray my life, what hopes she by it? Yes, it may be a practice 'twixt themselves, to expel the Brittains and ensure the State through our destructions, all this may be valid with a deeper reach in villany, then all my thoughts can guess at, however

COme sister, thou that art all fool, all mad-woman.

Prithee have patience, we are now at Court.

At Court! ha, ha, that proves thy madness, was there ever any woman in thy taking travel'd to Court for a husband? 'slid, 'tis enough for them to get children, and the City to keep 'em, and the Countrey to finde Nurses: every thing must be done in his due place, sister.

Be but content a while, for sure I know this Journey will be happy. Oh dear brother, this night my sweet Friend came to comfort me, I saw him, and embrac't him in mine arms.

Why did you not hold him, and call me to help you?

Alas, I thought I had been with him still, but when I wak't!

Ah pox of all Loger-heads, then you were but in a Dream all this while, and we may still go look him: Well, since we are come to Court, cast your Cats eyes about you, and either finde him out you dreamt on, or some other, [Page] for Ile trouble my self no further.

See, see, here comes more Courtiers, look about you, come, pray view 'em all well; the old man has none of the marks about him, the other have both Swords and Feathers: what thinkest thou of that tall yong Gentleman?

He much resembles him; but sure my friend, brother, was not so high of stature.

Oh beast, wast thou got a childe with a short thing too?

Come, come, Ile hear no more on't: Go Lord Edwin, tell her this day her sister shall be married to Cador Earl of Cornwal, so shall she to thee brave Edwin, if she'l have my blessing.

She is addicted to a single Life, she will not hear of Mar­riage.

Tush, fear it not: go you from me to her, use your best skill my Lord, and if you fail, I have a trick shall do it: haste, haste about it.

Sir, I am gone, my hope is in your help more then my own.

And worthy Toclio, to your care I must commend this business, for Lights and Musick, and what else is needful.

I shall my Lord.

We would intreat a word sir, come forward sister.

What lackst thou fellow?

I lack a father for a childe, sir.

How! a God-father?

No sir, we mean the own father: it may be you sir, for any thing we know, I think the childe is like you.

Like me! pri­thee where is it?

Nay, 'tis not born yet sir, 'tis forth coming you see, the childe must have a father: what do you think of my sister?

Why I think if she ne're had husband she's a whore, and thou a fool, farewel.

I thank you sir: well, pull up thy heart sister, if there be any Law i'th Court this fellow shall father it, 'cause he uses me so scurvily. There's a great Wedding towards they say, we'l amongst them for a husband for thee.

If we miss there, Ile have another bout with him that abus'd me. Seel look, there comes another Hat and Feather, this should be a close Letcher, he's reading of a Love-letter.

Earl Cador's Marriage, and a Masque to grace it, so, so. This night shall make me famous for Presentments. How now, what are you?

Why thus the matter [Page] stands sir: There's one of your Courtiers Hunting Nags has made a Gap through another mans Inclosure. Now sir, here's the que­stion, who should be at charge of a Fur-bush to stop it?

Ha, ha, this is out of my element: the Law must end it.

Your Worship says well; for surely I think some Law­yer had a hand in the business, we have such a troublesom Issue.

But what's thy business with me now?

Nay sir, the business is done already, you may see by my sisters belly.

Oh, now I finde thee, this Gentlewoman it seems has been humbled.

As low as the ground would give her leave sir, and your Worship knows this: though there be many fa­thers without children, yet to have a childe without a father, were most unnatural.

That's true ifaith, I never heard of a childe yet that e're begot his father.

Why true, you say wisely sir.

And therefore I conclude, that he that got the childe, is without all question the father of it.

I, now you come to the mat [...]er sir: and our suit is to your Worship for the discovery of this father.

Why, lives he in the Court here?

Yes sir, and I desire but Marriage.

And does the knave refuse it? Come, come, be merry wench, he shall marry thee, and keep the childe too, if my Knighthood can do any thing; I am bound by mine Or­ders to help distressed Ladies, and can there be a greater injury to a woman with childe, then to lack a father for't? I am asham'd of your simpleness: Come, come, give me a Courtiers Fee for my pains, and Ile be thy Advocate my self, and justice shall be found, nay Ile sue the Law for it; but give me my Fee first.

If all the money I have i'th world will do it, you shall have it sir.

An Angel does it.

Nay there's two, for your better eye sight sir.

Why well said: give me thy hand wench, Ile teach thee a trick for all this, shall get a father for thy childe presently, and this it is, mark now: You meet a man, as you meet me now, thou claimest Marriage of me, and layest the childe to my charge, I deny it: push, that's no­thing, hold thy Claim fast, thy words carries it, and no Law can withstand it.

Past all opposition, her own word carries it, let her challenge any man, the childe shall call him Father; there's a trick [Page] for your money now.

Troth Sir, we thank you, we'l make use of your trick, and go no further to seek the childe a Fa­ther, for we challenge you Sir: sister lay it to him, he shall marry thee, I shall have a worshipful old man to my brother.

Ha, ha, I like thy pleasantness,.

Nay in­deed Sir, I do challenge you.

You think we jest sir.

I by my troth do I, I like thy wit yfaith, thou shalt live at Court with me, didst never here of Nicodemus Nothing? I am the man.

Nothing, 'slid we are out agen, thou wast ne­ver got with childe with nothing sure.

I know not what to say.

Never grieve wench, show me the man and process shall fly out.

'Tis enough for us to finde the children, we look that you should finde the Father, and therefore either do us justice, or we'l stand to our first challenge.

Would you have justice without an Adversary, unless you can show me the man, I can do you no good in it.

Why then I hope you'l do us no harm sir, you'l restore my money.

What, my Fee? marry Law forbid it, finde out the party, and you shall have justice, your fault clos'd up, and all shall be amended, the Childe his Father, and the Law end­ed.

Well, he has deserv'd his Fee indeed, for he has brought our suit to a quick end, I promise you, and yet the Childe has never a Father; nor we have no more mony to seek after him, a shame of all lecherous placcats; now you look like a Cat had newly kitten'd, what will you do now tro? Follow me no further, lest I beat your brains out.

Impose upon me any punishment, rather then leave me now.

Well, I think I am bewitch with thee, I cannot finde in my heart to forsake her, there was never sister would have abus'd a poor brother as thou hast done, I am even pin'd away with fret­ting, there's nothing but flesh and bones about me, well and I had my money agen, it were some comfort, hark sister, Thunder. does it not thunder?

Oh yes, most fearfully, what shall. we do brother?

Marry e'ene get some shelter e're the storm catch us: away, let's away I prithee.

Ha, 'tis he, stay brother, dear brother stay.

What's the matter now?

My love, my [Page] friend is come, yonder he goes.

Where, where, show me where, I'le stop him if the devil be not in him.

Look there, look yonder, oh dear friend, pity my distress, for heaven and goodness do but speak to me.

'Slid who's that talks so? I can see no body.

Then art thou blind, or mad, see where he goes, and beckons me to come, oh lead me forth, I'le follow thee in spight of fear or death.

Oh brave, she'l run to the devil for a husband, she's stark mad sure, and talks to a shaddow, for I could see no substance: well, I'le after her, the childe was got by chance, and the father must be found at all adventure.

Oh reverent sir, by you my heart hath reacht at the large hopes of holy Piety, and for this I craved your company, Here in your sight religiouslly to vow,

My chaste thoughts up to heaven, and make you now the witness of my faith.

Angels assist thy hopes.

What meanes my Love? thou art my promis'd wife.

To part with willingly what friends and life Can make no good assurance of.

Oh finde remorse, fair soul, to love and merit, and yet recant thy vow.

Never: this world and I are parted now for ever.

You hear him Lady, 'tis not a virgins state but sanctity of life, must make you happy.

Good sir, you say you love me, gentle Edwin, even by that love I do beseech you leave me.

Think of your fathers tears, your weeping friends whom cruel grief makes pale and bloodless for you.

Would I were dead to all.

Why do you weep?

Why do you seek it then? What joy, what pleasure, can give you comfort in a single life?

The contem­plation of a happy death, which is to me so pleasing that I think no torture could diver me: What's this world wherein you'd have me walk, but a sad passage to a dread Judgement-Seat, from whence even now we are but bail'd, upon our good abearing, till that great Sessions come, when Death, the Cryer, will surely sum­mon us, and all to appear, to plead us guilty or our bail to clear: what musick's this?

Oh now resolve and think upon my love, this sounds the Marriage of your beauteous sister, vertuous Constancia, with the noble Cador, look, and behold this pleasure.

See, see, she's yonder, pass on son

Daughter Con­stancia, I beseech you all unless she first move speech, salute her not. Edwin what good success?

Nothing as yet, unless this object take her.

See, see, her eye is fixt upon her sister, seem careless all, and take no notice of her: on afore there, come my Constancia.

I must be more charitable, pray stay Lady, are not you she whom I did once call sister?

I did acknowledge such a name to one whilst she was worthy of it, in whose folly

Your looks did speak no less.

It now be­gins to work, this sight has moved her.

I know this trick would take, or nothing.

Though you disdain in me a sisters name, yet charity me thinks should be so strong to instruct e're you reject, I am a wretch even follies instance, who perhaps have er'd, not having known the goodness bears so high and fair a show in you, which being exprest

She is coming yfaith, be merry Edwin.

Since you desire instruction you shall have it, what ist should make you thus desire to live vow'd to a single life?

Because I know I cannot flie from death, oh my good sister, I beseech you hear me;

Hear her no more Constantia, she's sure bewitcht with Error, leave her Girl.

Then must I leave all goodness sir: away, stand-off, I say.

How's this?

I have no father, friend, no hus­band now, all are but borrowed robes, in which we masque to waste and spend the time, when all our Life is but one good betwixt two Ague-days, which from the first, e're we have time to praise, a se­cond Fever takes us: Oh my best sister, my souls eternal friend, forgive the rashness of my distemper'd tongue, for how could she knew not her self, know thy felicity, from which worlds cannot now remove me.

Art thou mad too, fond woman? what's thy meaning?

To seek eter [...]al happiness in hea­ven, which all this world affords not.

Think of thy Vow, thou art my promis'd Wife.

Pray trouble me no further.

Strange alteration!

Why do you stand at gaze, you sacred Priests? you holy men be equal to the Gods, and consummate my Marriage with this woman.

Her self gives barr my Lord, to your desires, and our performance; 'tis against the Law and Orders of the Church to force a Marriage.

How am I wrong'd! was this your trick, my Lord?

I am abus'd past sufferance; grief and amazement strive which Sense of mine shall loose her being first; yet let me call thee Daughter.

Me, Wife.

Your words are air, you speak of want, to wealth, And wish her sickness, newly rais'd to health.

Bewitched Girls, tempt not an old mans fury, that hath no strength to uphold his feeble age, but what your sights give life to, oh beware, and do not make me curse you.

Kneel.

Dear father, here at your feet we kneel, grant us but this, that in your sight and hearing the good Hermit may plead our Cause; which if it shall not give such satisfaction as your Age desires, we will submit to you.

You gave us life, save not our bodies, but our souls from death.

This gives some comfort yet: Rise with my blessings. Have patience, noble Cador, worthy Edwin, send for the Hermit that we may confer, for sure

Mix light and darkness, earth and heaven dissolve, be of one piece agen, and turn to C [...]aos, break all your works you pow­ers, and spoil the world, or if you will maintain earth still, give way and life to this abortive birth now coming, whose fame shall add unto your Oracles. Lucina, Hecate, dreadful Queen of Night, bright Proserpine, be pleas'd for Cerer love, from Stigian darkness, summon up the Fates,

Rise, rise to aid this birth prodigious. Thanks Hecate, hail sister to the Gods, there lies your way, haste with the Fates, and help, give quick dispatch unto her laboring throws, to bring this mix­ture of infernal seed, to humane being,

Well, I wonder how my poor sister does, after all this thundering, I think she's dead, for I can hear no tidings of her, those woo [...]s yields small comfort for her, I could meet nothing but a swinherds wife, keeping hogs by the Forestside, but neither she nor none of her sowes would stir a foot to help us; indeed I think she durst not trust her self amongst the trees with me, for I must needs confess I offer'd some kindness to her; well, I would fain know what's become of my sister, if she have brought me a yong Cousin, his face may be a picture to finde his Father by, so oh, sister Ioan, Ioan Go-too't, where art thou? Within Ioan. Here, here bro­ther, stay but a while, I come to thee.

O brave, she's a­live still, I know her voice, she speaks, and speaks cherfully me­thinks, how now, what Moon-calf has she got with her?

Come my dear Merlin, why dost thou six thine eye so deeply on that book?

To sound the depth of Arts, of Learning, Wisdom, Knowledge.

Oh my dear, dear son, those studies fits thee when thou art a man.

How doest thou know him son, thou never saw'st him?

Yet I know him, and know the pains he has taken for ye, to finde out my Father, give me your hand, good Uncle.

Ha, ha, I'de laugh at that yfaith, do you know me sir? Merlin, Yes, by the same token that even now you kist the swinherds-wife 'ith' woods, and would have done more, if she would have let you, Uncle.

A witch, a witch, a witch, sister: rid him out of your com­pany, he is either a witch or a conjurer, he could never have known this else.

Pray love him brother, he is my son.

Ha, ha, this is worse then all the rest yfaith, by his beard he is more like your husband: let me see, is your great belly gone?

Yes, and this the happy fruit.

What, this Hartichoke? A Childe born with a beard on his face?

Yes, and strong legs to go, and teeth to eat.

You can nurse up your self then? There's some charges sav'd for Soap and Candle, 'slid I have heard of some that has been born with teeth, but never none with such a talking tongue before?

Come, come, you must use him kindly brother, did you but know his worth, you would make much of him.

Make much of a Moncky? This is worse then Tom Thumb, that let a fart in his Mothers belly, a Childe to speak, eat, and go the first hour of his birth, nay, such a Baby as had need of a Barber before he was born too; why sister this is monstrous, and shames all our kindred.

That thus 'gainst nature and our common births, he comes thus furnisht to salute the world, is power of Fates, and gift of his great father.

Why, of what profession is your father sir?

He keeps a Hot-house ith' Low Coun­tries, will you see him sir?

See him, why sister has the childe found his father?

Yes, and Ile fetch him Uncle.

Do not Uncle me, till I know your kindred, for my conscience some Baboon begot thee, surely thou art horribly de­ceived sister, this Urchin cannot be of thy breeding, I shall be a­sham'd to call him cousin, though his father be a Gentleman.

The devil it is, ha, ha, is this your sweet-heart sister? have we run through the Countrey, haunted the City, and examin'd the Court to finde out a Gallant with a Hat and Feather, and a silken Sword, and golden Hangers, and do you now bring me to a Raga­muffin with a face like a Frying-pan?

Fie brother, you mistake, behold him better.

How's this? do you juggle with me, or are mine eyes matches? Hat and Feather, Sword, and Hangers and all, this is a Gallant indeed sister, this has all the marks of him we look for.

And you have found him now sir: give me your hand, I now must call you brother.

Not till you have married my sister, for all this while she's but your whore, sir.

Thou art too plain, Ile satisfie that wrong to her, and thee, and all, with liberal hand: come, why art thou fearful?

Nay I am not afraid, and you were the devil, sir.

Thou needst not, keep with thy sister still, and Ile sup­ply your wants, you shall lack nothing that gold and wealth can purchase.

Thank you brother, we have gone many a weary step to finde you; you may be a husband for a Lady, for you are far fetcht and dear bought, I assure you: Pray how should I call your son, my cousin here?

His name is Merlin.

Merlin! Your hand, cousin Merlin, for your fathers sake I accept you to my kindred: if you grow in all things as your Beard does, you will be talkt on. By your Mothers side cousin, you come of the Go-too'ts, Suffolk bred, but our standing house is at Hockly [...] i'th Hole, and Layton-buzzard. For your father, no doubt you may from him claim Titles of Worship, but I cannot describe it; I think his Ancestors came first from Hell-bree in Wales, cousin.

Will you go Uncle?

Yes, Ile follow you, cousin: well, I do most horribly begin to suspect my kindred; this brother in law of mine is the Devil sure, and though he hide his horns with his Hat and Feather, I spi'd his cloven foot for all his cunning.

Come, come, time calls our close Complots to action: go Proximus, with winged speed flie hence, hye thee to Wales, salute great Vortig [...]r with these our Letters, bid the King to arms, tell him we have new friends, more Forces landed in Norfolk and Nor­thumberland, bid him make haste to meet us; if he keep his word, wee'l part the Realm between us.

Bend all thine Art to quit that late disgrace the Christian Hermit gave thee, make thy [Page] revenge both sure and home.

That thought sir, spurs me on, till I have wrought their swift destruction.

Go then, and prosper. Octa, be vigilant: Speak, are the Forts possest? the Guards made sure? Revolve I pray on how large consequence the bare event and sequel of our hopes joyntly consists, that have embark't our lives upon the hazzard of the least miscarriage.

All's sure, the Queen your sister hath con­trived the cunning Plot so sure, as at an instant the Brothers shall be both surpriz'd and taken.

And both shall die, yet one a while must live, till we by him have gather'd strength and power to meet bold Edol their stern General, that now contrary to the Kings command, hath re-united all his cashier'd Troops, and this way beats his drums to threaten us.

Then our Plot's discover'd.

Come, th'art a fool, his Army and his life is given unto us: where is the Queen, my sister?

In con­ference with the Prince.

Bring the Guards nearer, all is fair and good, Their Conference I hope shall end in blood.

Come, come, you do but flatter, what you term Love, is but a Dream of blood, wakes with enjoying, and with open eyes forgot, contemn'd and lost.

I must be wary, her words are dangerous. True, we'l speak of Love no more then.

Make your example thus.—You have a kiss.—was it not pleasing?

Above all name to express it.

Yet now the pleasure's gone, and you have lost your joys possession.

Yet when you please this flood may ebb again.

But where it never ebbs, there runs the main.

Who can attain such hopes?

Ile show the way to it, give me a taste once more of what you may enjoy.

Impudent whore! I were more false than Atheism can be, Should I not call this high felicity.

If I should trust your faith, alas I fear you soon would change belief.

I would covet Martyrdom to make't confirm'd.

Give me your hand on that, you'l keep your word?

I will.

Enough: Help husband, king Aurelius, help, rescue betraid Artesia.

How now! what troubles you? Is this you sir, that but even now would suffer Martyrdom to win your hopes, and is there now such terror in names of men to fright you? nay then I see what mettle you are made on.

Ha! was it but tryal? then I ask your pardon: What a dull slave was I to be so fearful? Ile trust her now no more, yet try the utmost. I am resolved, no brother, no man breathing, were he my bloods begetter, should withhold me from your love, I'd leap into his bosom, and from his brest pull forth that happiness Heaven had reserved in you for my enjoying.

I now you speak a Lover like a Prince: Trea­son, treason.

Agen.

Help Saxon Princes: Treason.

Rescue the Queen: strike down the Villain.

Call in the Guards: the Prince in danger! Fall back dear Sir, my brest shall buckler you.

Beat down their wea­pons.

Slave, wert thou made of brass, my sword shall bite thee.

Withdraw on pain of death, where is the Trai­tor?

Oh save your life, my Lord, let it suffice my beau­ty forc't mine own captivity.

Who did attempt to wrong thee?

Here me, Sir.

Oh my sad soul! was't thou?

Oh do not stand to speak, one minutes stay, prevents a second speech for ever.

Make our Guards strong: My dear Artesia, let us know thy wrongs, and our own dangers.

The Prince your brother, with these Brit­tain Lords, have all agreed to take me hence by force, and marry [Page] me to him.

The Devil shall wed thee first: thy base­ness and thy lust confound and rot thee.

He courted me even now, and in mine car sham'd not to plead his most disho­nest love, and their attempts to seize your sacred person, either to shut you up within some prison, or which is worse, I fear to mur­ther you.

'Tis all as false as hell.

And as foul as she is.

You know me, Sir?

Yes, Deadly Sin, we know you, and shall discover all your villany.

Chester forbear.

Their trea­sons sir, are plain: Why are their Souldiers lodg'd so near the Court?

Nay, why came he in arms so suddenly?

You fleering Anticks, do not wake my fury.

Fury!

Ratsbane, do not urge me.

Good sir, keep farther from them.

Oh my sick heart, she is a witch by nature, devil by art.

Bite thine own slanderous tongue, 'tis thou art false, I have observ'd your passions long ere this.

Stand on your guard, my Lord, we are your friends, and all our Force is yours.

To spoil and rob the Kingdom.

Sir, be silent.

Silent! how long? till Doomsday? shall I stand by, and hear mine Honor blasted with foul Treason, the State half lost, and your life endanger'd, yet be silent?

Yes, my blunt Lord, unless you speak you [...] Treasons. Sir, let your Guards, as Traitors, seize them all, and then let tortures and devulsive racks, force a Confession from them.

Wilde-fire and Brim­stone eat thee. Hear me sir.

Sir, Ile not hear you.

But you shall: Not hear me I were the worlds Monarch, Cesar, livi [...]g, he should hear me. I tell you Sir, these serpents have betraid your Life and Kingdom: does not every day bring tidings of more swarms of lowsie slaves, the offal sugitives of bar­ren Germany, that land upon our Coasts, and by our neglect settled in Norfolk and Northumberland?

They come as Aids and Safeguards to the King.

Has he not need, when Vortiger's in arms, and you raise Powers, 'tis thought, to joyn with him?

Peace, you pernicious Rat.

Prithee forbear.

Away, suffer a gilded rascal, a low-bred despicable creeper, an insulting Toad, to spit his poison'd venome in my face!

Sir, sir.

Do not reply, you Cur, for by the Gods, tho' the Kings presence guard thee, I shall break all patience, and like a Lion rous'd to spoil, shall run foul-mouth'd upon thee, and devour thee quick▪ Speak sir, will you forsake these scorpions, or stay till they have stung you to the heart?

Y'are traitors all, this is our wife, our Queen: brother Ostorius, troop your Saxons up, we'l hence to Winchester, raise more powers, to m [...]n with strength the Castle Camilot: go hence false men, joyn you with Vortiger, the murderer of our brother Constantine: we'l hunt both him and you with dreadful vengance,

He's sure bewitch.

What counsel now for safety?

Onely this sir, with all the speed we can, pre­serve the person of the King and Kingdom.

Which to effect, tis best march hence to Wales, and set on Vortiger be­fore he joyn his Forces with the Saxons,

On then with speed for Wales and Vortiger, that tempest once o'reblown, we come Ostorius to meet thy traiterous Saxons, thee and them, that with advantage thus have won the King, to back your factions, and to work our ruines.

HOw now Uncle, why do you search your pockets so? do you miss any thing?

Ha, Cousin Merlin, I hope your beard does not overgrow your honesty, I pray remem­ber you are made up of sisters thread, I am your mothers brother, whosoever was your father.

Why, wherein can you task my duty, Uncle?

Your self, or your page it must be, I have kept no other company, since your mother bound your head to my Protectorship, I do feel a fault of one side, either it was that Sparrowhawk, or a Cast of Merlins, for I finde a Covy [Page] of Cardecu's sprung out of my pocket.

Why, do you want any money U [...]cle? sirrah, had you any from him?

Deny it not, for my pockets are witness against you.

Yes I had, to teach you better wit to look to it.

Pray use your fingers better, and my wit may serve as it is sir.

Well, restore it.

There it is.

I, there's some honestly in this, 'twas a token from your invisible Father Cousin, which I would not have to go inv [...]sibly from me agen.

Well, you are sure you have it now Uncle?

Yes, and mean to keep it now, from your pa­ges filching fingers too.

If you have it so sure, pray show it me agen.

Yes, my little juggler, I dare show it, ha, cleanly conveyance agen, ye have no invisible fingers have ye? 'Tis gone certainly.

Why sir, I toucht you not.

Why look you Uncle, I have it now, how ill do you look to it? here keep it safer.

Ha, ha, this is fine yfaith, I must keep some other company if you have these slights of hand.

Come, come, Uncle, 'tis all my Art which shall not offend you sir, onely I give you a taste of it, to show you sport.

Oh, but 'tls ill jesting with a mans pocket tho'—but I am glad to see you cunning Cousin, for now will I warrant thee a li­ving till thou diest. You have heard the news in Wales here?

Uncle, let me prevent your care and counsel, 'twill give you better knowledge of my cunning, you would prefer me now in hope of gain, to Vortiger King of the Welch Brittains, to whom are all the Artists summon'd now, that seeks the secrets of futurity, the Bards, the Druids, Wizards, Conjurers, not an Aurasper with his

Of his prodigious Castle now in building, where all the labors of the painful day, are ruin'd still ith' night, and to this place you would have me go.

Well, if thy mother were not my sister, I would say she was a witch that begot this; but this is thy father, not thy mother wit, thou hast taken my tale into thy mouth, and spake my thoughts before me; therefore away, shuffle thy self amongst the Conjurers, and be a made man before thou comest to age.

Nay, but stay Uncle, you overslip my dangers: [Page] the Prophecies and all the cunning Wizards, have certifi'd the King, that this his Castle can never stand, till the foundation's laid with Mortar temper'd with the fatal blood of such a childe, whose father was no mortal.

What's this to thee? If the devil were thy father, was not thy mother born at Carmarden? Diggon for that then, and then it must be a childes blood, and who will take thee for a childe with such a beard of thy face? Is there not diggon for that too Cousin?

I must not go, lend me your ear a while, I'le give you reasons to the contrary.

Sure this is an endless piece of work the King has sent us about!

Kings may do it, man, the like has been done to finde out the Unicorn.

Which will be sooner found I think, then this fien'd begotten childe we seek for.

Pox of those Conjurers that would speak of such a one, and yet all their cunning could not tell us where to finde him.

In Wales they say assuredly he lives, come let's enquire further.

Uncle, your perswasions must not prevail with me, I know mine enemies better then you do.

I say th'art a bastard then if thou disobey thine Uncle, was not Ioan Go-too't thy mother, my sister? if the devil were thy father, what kin art thou to any man alive, but Bailys and Brokers? and they are but brothers in Law to thee neither.

How's this, I think we shall speed here.

I, and unlook't for too, go ne're and listen to them.

Hast thou a beard to hide it, wil't thou show thy self a childe, wil't thou have more hair then wit? Wil't thou deny thy mother, b [...]cause no body knows thy father? Or shall thine Uncle be an ass?

Bless ye friend, pray what call you this small Gentlemans name?

Small, sir, a small man may be a great Gentleman, his fa­ther may be of an ancient house, for ought we know sir.

Why? do you not know his father?

No, nor you neither I think, unless the devil be in ye.

What is his name sir?

His name is my Cousin sir, his education is my sisters son, but his maners are his own.

Why ask ye Gen­t [...]men? my name is Merlin.

Yes, and a Goshawk was his father, for ought we know, for I am sure his mother was a Wind- [...]ucker.

He has a mother then?

As sure [Page] as I have a sister, sir.

But his father you leave doubt­ful.

Well Sir, as wise men as you, doubt whether he had a father or no?

Sure this is he we seek for.

I think no less: and sir, we let you know the King hath sent for you.

The more childe he, and he had bin rul'd by me, he should have gone before he was sent for.

May we not see his mother?

Yes, and feel her too if you anger her, a devilish thing I can tell ye she has been, Ile go fetch her to ye.

Sir, it were fit you did resolve for speed, you must unto the King.

My Service sir, shall need no strict com­mand, it shall obey most peaceably, but needless 'tis to fetch what is brought home, my journey may be staid, the King is coming hi­ther with the same quest you bore before him, hark, this drum will tell ye.

Still in our eye your message Proximus, we keep to spur our speed: Ostorius, and Octa, we shall salute with succor against Prince Vter and Aurelius, whom now we hear incamps at Winchester, there's nothing interrupts our way so much, as doth the erection of this fa­tal Castle, that spite of all our Art and daily labor, the night still ruines.

As erst I did affirm, still I maintain, the fien'd begotten childe must be found out, whose blood gives strength to the foundation, it cannot stand else.

Ha! I'st so? then Proximus by this intelligence he should be found: speak, is this he you tell of?

Yes Sir, and I his Uncle, and she his mother.

And who is his father?

Why, she his mother can best tell you that, and yet I think the childe be wise enough, for he has found his father.

Woman, is this thy son?

It is, my Lord.

What was his father? Or where lives he?

But since it must be so, then know great King, all that my self yet [Page] knows of him, is this: In pride of blood and beauty I did live, my glass the Altar was, my face the Idol, such was my peevish love un­to my self, that I did hate all other, such disdain was in my scorn­ful eye, that I suppos'd no mortal creature worthy to enjoy me, thus with the Peacock I beheld my train, but never saw the black­ness of my feet, oft have I child the winds for breathing on me, and curst the Sun, fearing to blast my beauty, in mid [...]t of this most lea­prous disease, a seeming fair yong man appear'd unto me, in all things suiting m [...] aspiring pride, and with him brought along a conquering power, to which my frailty yielded, from whose em­braces this issue came, what more he is, I know not.

Some Incubus, or Spirit of the night begot him then, for sure no mortal did it.

No matter who my Lo [...]d, leave fur­ther quest, since 'tis as hurtful as unnecessary more to enquire: Go to the cause my Lord, why you have sought me thus?

I doubt not but thou knowst, yet to be plain, I sought thee for thy blood.

By whose direction?

By mine, my Art infalable instructed me, upon thy blood must the foundation rise of the Kings building, it cannot stand else.

Hast thou such leisure to enquire my Fate, and let thine own hang careless over thee? Knowst thou what pendelous mis­chief roofs thy head, how fatal, and how sudden?

Pish, bearded abortive, thou foretel my danger my Lord, he trifles to delay his own.

No, I yield my self: and here before the King, make good thine Augury, as I shall mine, if thy fate fall not, thou hast spoke all truth, and let my blood satisfie the Kings desires: if thou thy self wilt write thine Epitaph, dis­patch it quickly, there's not a minutes time 'twixt thee and thy death.

Ha, ha, ha.

I, so, thou mayest die laughing.

Ha! This is above admiration, look, is he dead?

Yes sir, here's brains to make morter on, if you'l use them: Cousin Merlin, there's no more of this stone fruit ready to fall, is there? I pray give your Uncle a little fair warning.

Remove that shape of death, and now my Lord for clear satisfaction of your doubts, Merlin will show the fatal cause that keeps your fatal Castle down, and hinders your proceedings: Stand there, and by an apparition see the labor and end of all your destiny. [Page] Mother and Uncle, you must be absent.

Is your fa­ther coming Cousin?

Nay, you must be gone.

Come, you'l offend him brother.

I would fain see my Brother i'law, if you were married I might lawfully call him so.

What means this stay?

I shall, heaven be auspicious to us.

The conquest is on the white Dragons part, now Merlin faithfully expound the meaning.

Your Grace must then not be offended with me.

It is the weakest part I found in thee, to doubt of me so slightly, shall I blame my prophet that foretells me of my dangers? thy cunning I approve most excellent.

Then know my Lord, there is a dampish Cave, the night­ly habitation of these Dragons, vaulted beneath where you would build your Castle, whose enmity and nightly combats there, main­tain a constant ruine of your labors: To make it more plain, the Dragons then your self betoken, and the Saxon King, the vanquisht Red, is sir, your dreadful Emblem.

Oh my fate!

Nay, you must hear with patience Royal sir, you slew the lawful King Constantius, 'twas a red deed, your Crown his blood did cement, the English Saxon first brought in by you, for aid a­gainst Constantius brethren, is the white horror who now knit toge­ther, have driven and shut you up in these wilde mountains, and though they now seek to unite with friendship, it is to wound your bosom, not embrace it, and with an utter extirpation to rout the Brittains out, and plant the English. Seek for your safety Sir, and spend no time to build the airy Castles, for Prince Vter armed with vengeance for his brothers blood is hard upon you, if you mistrust me, and to my words craves witness sir, then know here comes a messenger to tell you so.

My Lord [...] Prince Vter [...]

And who else sir?

Edol, the great General.

The great Devil, they are coming to meet us.

With a full power my Lord.

With a full vengeance they mean to meet us, so we are ready to their confront as full march double footing, we'l loose no ground, nor shall their numbers fright us,

Stay, and advice, hold drum.

Beat slave, why do you pause? why make a stand? where are our enemies? or do you mean we fight amongst our selves?

Nay, noble Edol, let us here take counsel, it cannot burt, it is the [...]urest Garison to safety.

Fie on such slow delays! so fearful men that are to pass over a flowing river, stand on the bank to parly of the dan­ger, till the tide rise and then be swallowed, is not the King in field?

Proud Vortiger, the Trator is in field.

The Murderer, and Usurper.

Let him be the devil so I may fight with him, for heavens love sir march on, oh my patience, will you delay untill the Saxons come to aid his party? A Tucket.

There's no such fear, prithee be calm a while, hark, it seems by this, he comes or sends to us.

If it be for parly, I will drown the summons, if all our drums and hoarseness choke me me not.

Nay, prithee hear, from whence art thou?

From the King Vortiger.

Traitor, there's none such: Alarum drum, strike slave, or by mine honor I will break thy head, and beat thy drums heads both about thine ears.

Hold noble Edol, let's hear what Articles he can inforce.

What articles, or what conditions can you expect to value half your wrong, unless he kill himself by thousand tortures, and send his carcase to appease your vengeance, for the foul murder of Constantius, and that's not a tenth part neither. Prince 'Tis true, my brothers blood is crying to me now, I do ap [...]a [...]d thy counsel: hence, be gone.

We'l hear no parly now but by our swords.

And those shall speak home in death killing words, Alarum to the fight, sound, sound the Alarum.

Dost follow me?

Yes, to thy death I will.

Stay, be advis'd, I would not be the onely fall of Princes, I slew thy brother:

Thou didst black Traitor, and in that vengeance I pursue thee.

Take mercy for thy self, and flie my sword, save thine own life as satisfaction, which here I give thee for thy brothers death.

Give what's thine own: a Traitors heart and head, that's all thou art right Lord of; the Kingdom which thou usurp'st, thou most unhappy Tyrant, is leaving thee, the Saxons which thou broughtst to back thy usurpa­tions, are grown great, and where they seat themselves, do hourly seek to blot the Records of old Brute and Brittains, from memory of men, calling themselves Hingest-men, and Hingest-land, that no more the Brittain name be known; all this by thee, thou base de­stroyer of thy Native Countrey.

What, stand you talking? Fight.

Hold Edol.

Hold out my sword, and listen not to King or Princes word, There's work enough abroad, this task is mine.

Prosper thy Valour, as thy Vertues shine.

Bright Victory her self fights on our part, and buckled in a golden Beaver, rides triumphantly before us.

Justice is with her, who ever takes the true and rightful cause, let us not lag behinde them.

Here comes the Prince, how goes our fortunes Sir?

Hopeful, and fair, brave Cador, proud Vortiger beat down by Edols sword, was rescu'd by the following multitudes, and now for safety's fled unto a Castle here standing on the hill: but I have sent a cry of hounds as violent as hunger, to break his stony walls, or if they fail,

Look Edol: still this fiery exalation shoots his frightful hor­rors on th'amazed world, see in the beam that 'bout his flaming ring, a Dragons head appears, from out whose mouth two flaming flakes of fire, stretch East and West.

And see, from forth the body of the Star, seven smaller blazing streams, directly point on this affrighted kingdom.

'Tis a dreadful Meteor.

And doth portend strange fears.

This is no Crown of Peace, this angry fire hath something more to burn then Vortiger; if it alone were pointed at his fall; it would pull in his blasing Piramids, and be appeas'd, for Vortiger is dead.

These never come without their large effects.

The will of heaven be done, our sorrows this we want, a mistick Pithon to expound this fiery Oracle.

Oh no my Lord, you have the best that ever Brittain bred, and durst I prophecy of your Prophet sir, none like him shall suc­ceed him.

You mean Merlin.

True sir, wonderous Merlin, he met us in the way, and did foretell the for­tunes of this day successful to us.

He's sure about the Camp, send for him sir.

He told the bloody Vortiger his fate, and truely too, and if I could give faith to any Wizards skill, it should be Merlin.

And see my Lord, as if to satisfie your Highness pleasure, Merlin is come.

See, the Comet's in his eye, disturb him nor.

With what a piercing judgement he beholds it!

Whither will Heaven and Fate translate this King­dom? what revolutions, rise and fall of Nations

He does foresee some evil, his action shows it, for e're he does expound, he weeps the story.

There's another weeps too. Sirrah dost thou understand what thou lamentst for?

No sir, I am his Uncle, and weep because my Cousin weeps, flesh and blood cannot forbear.

Gentle Merlin, speak thy prophetick knowledge, in explanation of this fiery hor­ror, from which we gather from thy mournful tears, much sorrow [Page] and disaster in it.

'Tis true fair Prince, but you must hear the rest with patience.

I vow I will, tho' it portend my ruine.

There's no such fear, this brought the fiery fall of Vortiger, and yet not him alone, this day is faln a King more good, the glory of our Land, the milde, and gentle, sweet Aurelius.

Our brother!

Forefend it heaven.

He at his Palace Royal sir at Winchester, this day is dead and poison'd.

By whom? Or what means Merlin?

By the Traiterous Saxons.

I ever fear'd as much: that devil Os [...]orius, and the damn'd witch Artesia, sure has done it.

Poison'd! oh look further gentle Merlin, behold the Star agen, and do but finde revenge for me, though it cost thousand lives, and mine the foremost.

Comfort your self, the heavens have given it fully, all the portentious ills to you is told, now hear a happy story sir from me, to you and to your fair po­sterity.

Me thinks I see something like a peel'd Oinon, it makes me weep agen.

Be silent Uncle, you'l be forc't else.

Can you not finde in the Star, Cousin, whether I can hold my tongue or no?

Yes, I must cut it out.

Phu, you speak without book sir, my Cousin Merlin knows.

True, I must tie it up, now speak your pleasure Uncle.

Hum, hum, hum, hum.

So, so—now observe my Lord, and there behold above yo [...] flame-hair'd beam that upward shoots, appears a Dragons head, out of whose mouth two streaming lights point their flame-feather'd darts contrary ways, yet both shall have their aims: Again behold from the igni­firent body, seven splendant and illustrious rays are spred, all speaking Heralds to this Brittain Isle, and thus they are ex­pounded: The Dragons head is the Herogliphick that figures out your Princely self, that here must reign a King, those by-form'd fires that from the Dragons mouth shoot East and West, emblem two Royal babes, which shall proceed from you, a son and daugh­ter: her pointed constellation Northwest bending,

Crowns Her a Queen in Ireland, of whom first springs

That Kingdoms Title to the Brittain Kings.

Hum, hum, hum.

But of your Son, thus Fate and Merlin tells, all after times shall fill their Chronicles with fame of his renown, whose warlike sword shall pass through fertile France [Page] and Germany, nor shall his conjuring foot be forc't to stand, till Romes Imperial Wreath hath crown'd his Fame with Monarch of the West, from whose seven hills with Conquest, and contributory Kings, he back returns to inlarge the Brittain bounds, his Heral­dry adorn'd with thirteen Crowns.

Hum, hum, hum▪

He to the world shall add another Worthy, and as a Load­stone for his prowess, draw a train of Marshal Lovers to his Court: It shall be then the best of Knight-hoods honor, at Winchester to fill his Castle Hall, and at his Royal Table sit and feast in warlike orders, all their arms round hurl'd, as if they meant to circumscribe the world.

Hum, hum, hum, oh that I could speak a little.

I know your mind Uncle, agen be silent.

Thou speakst of wonders Merlin, prithee go on, declare at full this Constellation.

Those seven beams pointing downward, sir, betoken the troubles of this Land, which then shall meet with other Fate; War and Dissension strives to make divi­sion, till seven Kings agree to draw this Kingdom to a Hepterchy.

Thine art hath made such proof, that we believe thy words authentical, be ever neer us, my Prophet, and the Guide of all my actions.

My service shall be faithful to your per­son, and all my studies for my Countries safety.

Hum, hum, hum.

Come, you are releast, sir.

Cousin, pray help me to my tongue agen, you do not mean I shall be dumb still I hope?

Why, hast thou not thy tongue?

Ha! yes, I feel it now, I was so long dumb, I could not well tell whether I spake or no.

I'st thy advice we pre­sently pursue the bloody Saxons, that have slain my brother?

With your best speed, my Lord, Prosperity will keep you company.

Take then your Title with you, Royal Prince, 'twill adde unto our strength, Long live King Uter.

Put the Addition to't that Heaven hath given you: The DRAGON is your Emblem, bear it bravely, and so long live and ever happy styl'd Vter-Pendragon, lawful King of Brittain.

Thanks Edol, we imbrace the name and title, and in our Sheild and Standard shall the figure of a Red Dragon still be born before us, to fright the bloody Saxons. Oh my Aurelius, sweet rest thy soul; let thy disturbed spirit

HEnce thou black horror, is thy lustful fire kindled agen? not thy loud throated thunder, nor thy adulterate infer­nal Musick, shall e're bewitch me more, oh too too much is past already.

Why dost thou fly me? I come a Lover to thee, to imbrace, and gently twine thy body in mine arms.

Out thou Hell-hound.

why should I not be stroakt and plaid withal, will't thou not thank the Lion might devour thee, if he shall let thee pass?

Yes, thou art he, free me, and Ile thank thee.

Why, whither wouldst? I am at home with thee, thou art mine own, have we not charge of family together, where is your son?

Oh darkness cover me.

There is a pride which thou hast won by me, the mother of a fame shall never die, Kings shall have need of written Chronicles, to keep their names alive, but Merlin none, ages to ages shall like Sabalists

Oh rot my memory before my flesh, let him be called some hell or earth-bred monster, that ne're had hapless woman for a mother: sweet death deliver me, hence from my sight, why shouldst thou now appear? I had no pride nor lustful thought about me, to conjure and call thee to my ruine, when as at first thy cursed person became visible.

I am the same I was.

But I am chang'd.

Agen Ile change thee to the same thou wert, quench to my lust, come forth by thunder led, my Coajutors in the spoils of mortals.

Claspe in your Ebon arms that prize of mine, mount her as high as palled Hecate, and on this rock Ile stand to cast up fumes and darkness o're the blew fac'd firmament; from Brittain, and from Merlin, Ile remove her, they ne're shall meet agen.

Help me some saving hand, if not too late, I cry let mercy come.

Stay you black slaves of night, let loose your hold, set her down safe, or by th'i [...]fernal Stix, Ile binde you up with exorcisms so strong, that all the black pentagoron of hell, shall ne're release you, save you selves and vanish.

Ha! What's he?

The Childe has found his Fa­ther, do you not know me?

Merlin!

Oh, help me gentle son.

Fear not, they shall not hurt you.

Relievest thou her to disobey thy father?

Obedience is no lesson in your school, nature and kind to her, commands my duty, the part that you begot was against kinde, so all I ow to you is to be unkind.

Ile blast thee slave to death, and on this rock stick thee an eternal Monument.

Ha, ha, thy powers too weak, what art thou devil, but an inferior lustful Incubus, taking advantage of the wanton flesh, wherewith thou dost beguile the ignorant? put off the form of thy humanity, and cral upon thy speckled belly, serpent, or Ile unclasp the jaws of Achoron, and fix thee ever in the local fire.

Traitor to hell; curse that I e're begot thee.

Thou didst beget thy scourge, storm not, nor stir, the power of Merlins Art is all confirm'd in the Fates decretals,—Ile ransack hell, and make thy

masters bow unto my spells, thou first shall taste it,— Tenibr arum precis, devitiarum, & infirorum, Deus, hunc Incubum in ignis eterni abi­sum, accipite aut in hoc carcere tenebroso, in sempeternum astringere mando.

So, there beget earthquakes or some noisom damps, for never shalt thou touch a woman more: How chear you mother?

Oh now my son is my deliverer, yet I must name him with my deepest sorrow.

Take comfort now, past times are ne're recal'd, I did foresee your mischief and prevent it: hark, how the sounds [Page] of war now call me hence to aid Pendragon, that in battail stands against the Saxons, from whose aid Merlin must not be absent: leave this soyl, and Ile conduct you to a place retir'd, which I by art have rais'd, call'd Merlins Bower, there shall you dwell with solitary sighs, with grones and passions your companions, to weep away this flesh you have offended with, and leave all bare unto your aierial soul, and when you die, I will erect a Monument upon the verdant Plains of Salisbury, no King shall have so high a sepulchre, with pendulous stones that I will hang by art, where neither Lime nor Morter shalbe us'd, a dark Enigma to the memory, for none shall have the power to number them, a place that I will hollow for your rest,

Sincerely Gloster, I have told you all: My Daughters are both vow'd to Single Life, and this day gone unto the Nunnery, though I begot them to another end, and fairly promis'd them in Marriage, one to Earl Cador, t'other to your son, my worthy friend, the Earl of Gloster. Those lost, I am lost: they are lost, all's lost. Answer me this then, Ist a sin to marry?

Oh no, my Lord.

Go to then, Ile go no further with you, I perswade you to no ill, perswade you then that I perswade you well.

'Twill be a good Office in you, sir.

Which since they thus neglect, my memory shall lose them now for ever. See, see the Noble Lords, their promis'd Husbands! had Fate so pleas'd, you might have call'd me Father.

Those hopes are past, my Lord, for even this minute we saw them both enter the Monastery, secluded from the world and men for ever.

'Tis both our griefs we cannot, Sir: but from the King take you the Times joy from us; The Saxon King Os [...]orius slain, and Octa fled, that Woman-fury, Queen Artesia, is fast in hold, and forc't to re-deliver London and Winchester (which she had for­tifi'd) to Princely Vter, lately styl'd Pendragon, who now trium­phantly is marching hither to be invested with the Brittain Crown.

The joy of this, shall banish from my breast all thought that I was Father to two Children, two stubborn Daughters, that have left me thus: Let my old arms embrace, and call you Sons, for by the Honor of my Fathers House, I'le part my estate most equally betwixt you.

Sir, y'are most noble!

Set up our Sheild and Standard, noble Soldiers, We have firm hope that tho' our Dragon sleep, Merlin will us and our fair Kingdom keep.

As his Uncle lives, I warrant you.

Happy Re­storer of the Brittains fame, uprising Sun let us salute thy glory, ride in a day perpetual about us, and no night be in thy thrones zo­diack, why do we stay to binde those Princely browes with this Imperial Honor?

Stay noble Gloster, that monster first must be expel'd our eye, or we shall take no joy in it.

If that be hindrance, give her quick Judgement, and send her hence to death, she has long deserv'd it.

Let my Sentence stand for all, take her hence, and stake her carcase in the burning Sun, till it be parcht and dry, and then fley off her wicked skin, and stuff the pelt with straw to be shown up and down at Fairs and Markets, two pence a piece to see so foul a Monster, will be a fair Monopoly and worth the begging.

Ha, ha, ha.

Dost laugh Erictho?

Yes, at thy poor invention, is there no better, torture­monger?

Burn her to dust.

That's a Phaenix death, and glorious.

I, that's to good for her.

Alive she shall be buried circled in a wall, thou mur­dress of a King, there starve to death.

Then Ile starve death when he comes for his prey, and i'th' mean time Ile live upon your curses.

I, 'tis diet good enough, away with her.

Why does our Prophet Merlin stand apart, sadly obser­ving these our Ceremonies, and not applaud our joys with thy hid knowledge? Let thy divining Art now satisfie some part of my de­sires; for well I know 'tis in thy power to show the full event, that shall both end our Reign and Chronicle: speak learned Merlin, and resolve my feats, whether by war we shall expel the Saxons, or govern what we hold with beauteous peace in Wales and Brittain?

Long happiness attend Pendragons Reign, what Heaven decrees, fate hath no power to alter: The Saxons, sir, will keep the ground they have, and by supplying numbers still incease, till Brit­tain be no more. So please your Grace, I will in visible apparitions, present you Prophecies which shall concern

Do it my Merlin, and Crown me with much joy and wonder.

This King, my Lord, presents your Royal Son, who in his prime of years shall be so fortunate, that thirteen several Princes, shall present their several Crowns unto him, and all Kings else shall so admire his fame and victories, that they shall all be glad ei­ther through fear or love, to do him homage; But death (who neither favors the weak nor valliant) in the middest of all his glories, soon shall seize him, scarcely permitting him to appoint one in all his purchased Kingdoms to succeed him.

Thanks to our Prophet for this so wish'd for satisfaction, and hereby now we learn that always Fate must be observ'd, what ever that decree,