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 THE DRAMATIC 
 
 WORKS OF SIR ASTON COKAIN. 
 
 WITH PREFATORY MEMOIR, INTROI^UCTIONS, 
 AND NOTES. 
 
 MDCCCLXXIV. 
 
 EDINBURGH: WILLIAM PATERSON. 
 LONDON : H. SOTHERAN & CO.
 
 MCRKAV AND GIBB, EDINBDRGII, 
 PB1STER9 TO HER MAJESTY'S STATIONERY OFFICE.
 
 
 TO 
 
 JAMES 0. HALLIWELL PHILLIPPS, Esq., 
 
 F.A.S., F.R.S., 
 
 TO WHOM THE LOVERS OF 
 ANCIENT DRAMATIC AND POETIC LITERATURE 
 
 ARE SO DEEPLY INDEBTED, 
 
 THIS VOLUME 
 
 IS GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED BY 
 
 THE EDITORS. 
 
 8508D3
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Pkefatoky Memoiu, 
 A Masque, . 
 The Obstinate Lady 
 Trappolin, . 
 Ovid's Tragedy, 
 
 I'agk 
 ix 
 
 1 
 
 15 
 
 113 
 
 205
 
 PREFATOEY MEMOIR. 
 
 Langbaine, in giving an account of Sir Aston Cokain, 
 says that he was " a gentleman who, in the reign of 
 King Charles the Second, lived at his seat at Ash- 
 bourne, a market-town in Derbyshire, situate between 
 the river Dove and Compton. He was of an ancient 
 family, as Mr, Cambden observes in the entrance 
 of his description of Derbyshire; nay, further, Sir 
 John Cokain of Rushton, our author's kinsman, and 
 cousin-german to the Lord. O'Brien Cokain, Viscount 
 Cullen, in Ireland, had an ancient evidence to prove 
 
 that Sir Cokain, their predecessor, was anciently 
 
 allied to King William the Conqueror, and in those 
 days lived at Hemmingham Castle, in Essex.* But 
 whether our author fetcht his pedigree from so 
 ancient a stock or no, certain it is that he was well 
 descended, and had a liberal education bestowed on 
 him, being in his youth bred in Trinity College, 
 Cambridge, and when he was about four-and-twenty 
 years of age he was sent to make a journey through 
 France and Italy, which he completed in a twelve- 
 month's space, anno 1632, an account of which he 
 has writ to his son.t He was very much addicted to 
 books and the study of poetry, spending much of his 
 time in the Muses' company. Amongst his other 
 poetical productions he has written three plays and a 
 masque, which are in print." 
 
 Whether the family of Cokain, as Sir Aston seems 
 to have believed, was directly descended from Wil- 
 liam the Conqueror, may be a matter of doubt, but 
 in Lodges Peerage, by Archdall, — Lond. 1789, 8vo, 
 
 * See Cokain's Epigrams, 1. 2, Ep. vii, 
 t See his Poems, p. 93.
 
 X MEMOIR. 
 
 vol. iv., Art. " Cockaine, Viscount Cullen," — it is 
 stated that " the family of Cokyn, Cokey n, Cockaine, 
 for many ages was seated at Ashbourne, in the 
 county of Derby; whereof was John Cockeyn, the 
 father of Andreas, whose son William, by Sarah, his 
 "vvife, had a son of his own name, who, taking to 
 wife Alice, daughter of Hugh de Dalbury, left two 
 sons, — Roger, living in 1284, and John, living in 1276, 
 who married Matildis (Maud), daughter of Robert 
 Olderney, and had a son Andrew, who died without 
 issue in 1284 (12 Edward I.), and a daughter Mar- 
 gery." 
 
 More than one of the Cokains received the honour 
 of knighthood from those Kings under whose banners 
 they served, but it is doubted whether there was ever 
 a baronet in their family. The claim of our poet to 
 Lis title has therefore been disputed. 
 
 The great-grandfather of Sir Aston Cokain was Sir 
 Thomas, who succeeded in 1544, and accompanied 
 Edward, Earl of Hertford, in his expedition to Scot- 
 land by sea, with a large fleet and well pro\dded 
 army, and was knighted by the Earl at the taking 
 of Leith and Edinburgh. After the plundering and 
 burning of these places, he attended him by land 
 into England. He was the author of a treatise, 
 printed in 4to, and embellished with woodcuts (pp. 
 32), now of extreme rarity. It is titled : — • 
 
 ' ' A Short Treatise of Hunting : Compyled for the delight of 
 noblemen and gentlemen, by Sir Thomas Cockaine, Knight. 
 Imprinted at London by Thomas Orwin, for Thomas Wood- 
 cocke, dwelling in Paula's Churchyard, at the signe of the Black 
 Beare. 1591." 4to. 
 
 The dedication is thus addressed : 
 
 " To the Right Honourable and my singular good lord the 
 Earle of Shrewsburie, Sir Thomas Cockaine, knight, wisheth 
 increase of all honourable vertues. 
 
 "Having (Right Honourable), at the instance of divei-s my 
 especiall good friends, penned this short pamphlet of my owTie 
 experience in hunting, and entring into consideration how 
 greatly I am bounden to the nobilitie of this land, reason chal- 
 lenged a speciall affection in me to preferre the patronage
 
 MEMOIR. XI 
 
 thereof to your honorable lordship before any other, as well in 
 resjiect I had the original of my said experience under your 
 most noble grandfather (whose servant I was in my younger 
 years, and brought up in his house) ; as also in regard that I 
 have received many extraordinary favors, both from your said 
 most noble grandfather, from my honourable good lord your 
 father, and lastly and most especially from yourself (my good 
 lord), who, knowing me a professed hunter, and not a 
 scholler, I make no doubt but your lordshippe wil affoord my 
 plainnes herein your favourable liking. And so (my good 
 lord) wishing you as honorable successe in all your vertuous 
 actions as your lordshippe can desire or imagine, I humblie 
 take my leave of your good lordship. 
 
 ' ' From my house neere Ashbourne, this last of December 
 1590. 
 
 " YoMi honourable lordship's many waies so bounden, 
 
 " Thomas Cockain." 
 
 In Ins address "to the gentlemen readers," Sir 
 Thomas incidentally mentions " my owne long experi- 
 ence in hunting for these fiftie-two yeares now last 
 past." 
 
 Edward Cokain, born in 1554, was sheriff of the 
 county of Derby. 42 Elizabeth ; married Jane, daughter 
 of Nicholas Ashby, Esq. ; died in 1606, and left 
 Thomas his heir ; who, by Anne, daughter of Sir John 
 Stanhope of Elvaston (ancestor to Charles, Earl of 
 Harrington) was father of Sir Aston Cokain, born 
 28th December 1608. 
 
 Sir Aston married Anne, daughter of Sir Gilbert 
 Kniveton of Mircaston, in Derbyshire, Baronet, and, 
 as Lodge goes on to say, " being a Eomanist, suffered 
 much for his religion and the king's cause in the civil 
 wars, and then pretended to be a baronet, created 
 after the king had by violence been compelled to leave 
 the Parliament, about 10th January 1641 ; yet not so 
 deemed by the officers of arms, because no patent was 
 either enrolled or mentioned in the docquet books 
 belonging to the clerk of the Crown in Chancery to 
 justify it. He was esteemed by many an ingenious 
 gentleman, a good poet, and a great lover of learning ; 
 yet by others a perfect boon fellow, by which means 
 he wasted all his estate, having sold his lordsliip of 
 Pooley to Humfrey Jennings, Esq., reserving an
 
 XU MEMOIR. 
 
 annuity for life, several years before his death, which 
 happened at Derby in February 1683, and the 13th of 
 that month he was buried in the chancel of Polesworth 
 church." 
 
 Sir Aston has evidently been anxious to show how 
 extensively he was connected with the nobility and 
 gentry of his time, for in the collected edition of his 
 poetical works, titled "A chain of golden poems, 
 embellished with wit, mirth, and eloquence," appear 
 verses addressed to the following : — 
 
 " To the Eight Honourable Philip, Earl of Chesterfield, Baron 
 of Shelford, etc., my uncle." Two epigrams. 
 
 Of six "Funeral Elegies," the second, fourth, and fifth 
 are in honour of deceased female relatives, thus : — 
 
 " On my dear sister, Mrs. Isabella Cokaine, who died at Ash- 
 bourne about the 18th year of her age, and lyes there buried. 
 
 " On the death of my dear cousin-germane, Mrs. Olive 
 Cotton, who deceased at Berisford the 38th year of her age, 
 and lyes buried at Bently, by Ashbourne, etc. 
 
 "A funeral elegie on my dear cousin, Mistress Elizabeth 
 Reppington, who deceased at Ammington about the 18th year 
 of her age, and lyes buried at Tamworth." 
 
 Next come poetical "Letters to divers Persons," 
 as follows : — 
 
 "1. To the Right Honourable John, Lord Moliun, Baron of 
 Okehampton, my uncle-in-law. 
 
 "2. To my friend and kinsman Mr. George Gifford, who 
 called his mistress ' the green bird of France. ' 
 
 "7. To my cousin, Mr. Charles Cotton. 
 
 "8. To my son, Mr. Thomas Cokaine." 
 
 Among " Encomiastick" verses on several books is 
 
 one : 
 
 " To my most honoured cousin, Mr. Charles Cotton the 
 younger, upon his excellent poem." 
 
 Commendatory verses by Thomas Bancroft preface 
 these poems. They are addressed " To his noble 
 friend Sir Aston Cokain, on his poetical composures." 
 In Cokain's poetical " Letters to divers Persons," he 
 has one " To my very good friend Mr. Thomas Ban- 
 croft, on his works ;" and another, among his " Encomi- 
 astick Verses," " To my learned friend Mr. Thomas
 
 MEM6m'. 3aii 
 
 Bancroft, upon his Book of Satyrs;" and a third, " To 
 itny learned friend Mr. Thomas Bancroft, on his 
 poem entituled the Heroich Lcwer" 
 
 Above all, he appears to have been more than 
 usually delighted at his near relationship to Viscount 
 Cullen, which arose in this way : 
 
 William, younger son of Sir John Cockaine and 
 Isabel Shirley, progenitor to the Lord Viscount Cul- 
 len. He was the father of Thomas Cockaine, Esq., 
 the father of Eoger of Baddesley, in the county of 
 Warwick, the father of William Cockaine of London, 
 citizen and skinner, and also merchant-adventurer in 
 the Muscovy, Spanish, Portugal, and Eastland Com- 
 panies, of which last he was governor. He married 
 twice, but by the first wife, Elizabeth, daughter of 
 Eoger Medcalfe of Wensgale, had only issue, and 
 deceasing in 1599, was buried in the church of St. 
 Peter-le-Poor, London, under a handsome monument, 
 at the east end of the chancel, with this memorial : — 
 
 " Here lieth the body of the worshipful Mr. William Cockaine 
 the elder, citizen and skinner of London, who departed this 
 life the 18th day of November 1599. Also here lieth the body 
 of Elizabeth Metcalfe, his first wife, by whom he had 7 sons 
 and 4 daughters ; all which daughters departed this life before 
 any of them accomplished the age of ten years. The 7 sons 
 lived, and the youngest of them (at his death) was fully 28 
 years of age. Which said Elizabeth departed this life the 5th 
 day of April 1589. Here also lieth the body of Catherine 
 Wonton, his second wife, who died the 19th of September 1596, 
 by whom he had no issue. " 
 
 The house of Sir William Cockaine was in Broad 
 Street, and Avas burnt down not long after he had 
 given an entertainment to King James : — 
 
 J' Wednesday, the 12th of November 1623, the house of Sir 
 William Cockayn, Knight, alderman of London, in Broad- 
 streete, in the evening one of his warehouses began to take fire, 
 by negligence, as was suspected, of laying up wett flaxe in the 
 place, which fired itselfe, and ceased not till two of the clock the 
 next morning ; in which space it burnt his whole house and 
 three of his neighbours' houses, to the great damage and danger 
 of many neere inhabitants, and to the great fright and terrour 
 of the whole citie, chiefely the east part of the citie. Sir Hugh 
 Middleton, Enight Baronet, upon the first knowledge thereof,
 
 XIV MEMOIR. 
 
 caused all the sluices of the water-cesteme in the field to be 
 left open, whereby there was plenty of water to quench the fire. 
 This water (of the New River) hath done many like benefits in 
 sundry like former distresses." — Hoive's Chronicle. 
 
 Sir William Cockaine, who succeeded his father,, 
 was also a citizen and skinner of London, and in 1 609 
 sheriff of that city ; elected soon after an alderman. 
 And in 1612, King James having the plantation of 
 Ulster much at heart, granted a considerable tract of 
 land in that province to the city of London, who sent 
 over about 300 artificers to begin and forward the 
 plantation thereof, and appointed Mr. Cockaine their 
 first director and governor, who had lands assigned 
 him there, and under whose directions the city of 
 Londonderry was established. On 8th June 1616 
 the King honoured him with his presence at dinner 
 at his house in London, when he was pleased to make 
 him a knight ; with whom he was in such esteem, 
 that he was often heard by him in Pai'liament and at 
 the Council table, and consulted with him on more 
 private affairs ; and so well satisfied was the King 
 with his comprehension of business, his manner of 
 expressing his intentions, digesting and uttering his 
 purposes, that he used to say of him he never heard 
 any man of his breeding handle business more ration- 
 ally, more pertinently, more elegantly, more persua- 
 sively. In 1619 he served the oflftce of Lord Mayor 
 of London, and that year purchased the manor of 
 Elmsthorpe, in the county of Leicester, from Sir John 
 Harrington ; but in 1626, after two days' sickness, he 
 departed this life, and in a most exemplary manner, 
 and was buried 12th December in the cathedral church 
 of St. Paul, when a sermon was preached by Dr. John 
 Donne, dean of that church, in which his character 
 may be seen at large ; and in the south aisle a monu- 
 ment was set up in memory of so good a magistrate and 
 worthy a citizen, with the following inscription : — 
 
 "M.S. 
 " Gulielmus Cockainus, Eques Auratus, Civis, et Senator Lon- 
 dinensis, septemque abhinc Annis Urbis prsefectus AntiquS.
 
 MEMOIR. XV 
 
 Cockainorum Derbiensium Familia oriundus. Qui Bono publico 
 vixit, et Damno publico decessit, et Gaudio Publico Kegem 
 Jacobum, ad Decorem liujus Domus Dei, senescentis jam et 
 coiTugatfB, restituendum, solenniter hue veiiientem consulatu 
 suo, magnifice excepit, id circo in Templo Publico, ad iEternam 
 Eei Memoriam. 
 
 Hie situs est. 
 At vero et Famje celebritas, qu?e viget in ore Hominum, et 
 Gloria Beatitudinis, quam migrando adeptus est, et Splendor 
 Sobolis, quam numerosam genuit atque nobilem reliquit, junc- 
 tim efficiunt omnia, ne dicatur. 
 
 Hie situs est. 
 
 Una cum illo, tot homines mortui, quot in illo defuncts sunt 
 virtutes ; simulque et Acies Ingenii et popularis Eloquii suada, 
 et morum gravitas, et Probitas vitoe, et Candor mentis, et 
 Animi Constantia, et prudentia singularis, et veri Senatoris 
 Insignia, 
 
 Hie sepulta sunt. 
 
 Jam tunm est, Lector, Felicitatis ad culmen anhelare per 
 
 ista vestigia Laudis et venerandi Imitatione Exempli, curare, ne 
 
 unquam viitutis sic semina intereant, ut dicatur, 
 
 Hie sepulta sunt. 
 
 Obiit 20 Oetob. An. Dom. 1626, 
 
 Et iEtatis sufe 66." 
 
 His wife was Mary, daughter of Richard Morris of 
 London, Esq., by whom he had two sons, — Charles 
 (created Viscount Cullen), William, — and six daugh- 
 ters. 
 
 The family continued to flourish as Irish Peers for 
 considerably more than a century after the date of 
 their creation as Viscounts Cullen, but became extinct 
 in the year 1806, in the person of the half-brother of 
 Charles, whose death is thus recorded in the maga- 
 zines of the day : — 
 
 " Ith June 1806. — At his seat at Rushton Hall, co. Northamp- 
 ton, in his 92d year, the Right Honourable Charles Cockayne, 
 fifth Viscount Cullen of Ireland. He was born Sept. 21, 1710, 
 and attained the above advanced period of life in the enjopnent 
 of an uninteiTupted state of good health, of excellent abilities, 
 and of a very cheerful turn of mind, to which he united the 
 inestimable virtues of true benevolence and imbounded gene- 
 rosity. His lordship was of ancient lineage, and paternally 
 descended from Andreas Cockayne, lord of Ashbourne, in 
 Derbyshire, in the reign of King Henry ii., whose descendants 
 frequently represented that county in Parliament. With others
 
 XVI MEMOIR. 
 
 of his maternal ancestors may be named the O'Briens, Earls of 
 Thomond, and the Lords Willoughby of Parbam. Of the elder 
 branch of the former his lordship was the representative ; and 
 by the latter he derived his descent from the illustrious houses 
 of York, Lancaster, Arundel, and Paitland. He married, first, 
 May 4, 1732, his first cousin, Anne, daughter of Borlase "Warren, 
 Esq. of Stapleford Hall, co. Nottingham, by whom he had three 
 sons and six daughters— only one daughter living; secondly, 
 Sophia, daughter of John Baxter, Esq., by whom he had "Wil- 
 liam, married to Barbara, youngest daughter of Sergeant HiU, 
 and now Viscount Cullen. This second lady survived him but 
 five weeks, dying July 12," at the King's Arms Inn, Oxford, on 
 her way from Bristol. 
 
 His successor enjoyed his honours for a very few 
 years, he having died in 1810; and, as no claim has 
 been made by any of the male descendants of the first 
 Viscount, there is every reason to believe that the 
 viscounty is extinct. His death is thus noticed in 
 the Gentleman s Magazine for Aug. 1810 : —   
 
 "At St. Alban's, where he had been five -and -forty years 
 under the late Dr. Cotton and his successor Dr. Pellet, aged 74, 
 the Right Honourable Borlase Cockayne, Lord Viscount Cullen 
 of the kingdom of Ireland. His only half-brother, "William, 
 having died without male issue 8th October last, the title is 
 supposed to be extinct, as there are not known to be any male 
 descendants of the earlier Peers surviving. He was to be buried 
 with his ancestors at Rushton, in Northamptonshire." 
 
 In the supplement to the Gentleman's Magazine, 
 1801, there is a letter, signed "Matt. Rugeley," giving 
 a brief notice of " a pleasant village" in Bedfordshire 
 called "Cockayne Hatly;" more particularly in regard 
 to the ancient church, which he describes as "an 
 ancient regular structure, with a nave and side aisles, 
 built, as is supposed, by Sir John Cockayne, as his 
 arms are in the brackets that support the roof, and in 
 many other parts of the church. On the north side 
 of the nave is a raised altar-tomb, which covers the 
 remains of Sir John Cokayne, Kt., Chief Baron of 
 the Exchequer in the reign of King Henry IV. On 
 the top was his effigies engraved on brass, with his 
 arms at each corner, but now entirely gone." 
 
 The writer next notices " a very handsome monu- 
 ment in the south aisle, with the figures of an armed
 
 MEMOIR. XVii 
 
 kniglit and his lady kneeling at an altar, with the 
 following inscriptions," which evolve the remarkable 
 fact of a connection of the family of Cokain with 
 that of the Humes of Wedderburn. 
 Over the knight is this : — 
 
 "S. DeoO. M. 
 
 Memoriseq. et mortalibus 
 
 Exiiviis C. L. V, D. Patritii Home, 
 
 Equitis Aurati, ciii ex nobilissima 
 
 Familia Homea de Wedderburne, 
 
 Apud ScoTOS oriundo, Musis sanct. 
 
 Andreanis innutrito, Artiuraque ibidem 
 
 Slto. dein circa annum Salutis 
 
 CIO.IO.LXXXVII. 
 
 a Eege Magisterio canum leporum 
 
 rariorum donato, Regemq. eodem munere 
 
 in Angliam secuto ibique accipitrum 
 
 Regiorum." 
 
 ^o"- 
 
 Over the lady is this 
 
 " Custodiam 
 
 Adepto probeq. functo, 
 
 denato denique setatis X'ti 
 
 Ao. cio.iocxxi, suae vero 
 
 XLix. atq. in colonia ccelesti 
 
 nunc recensite, lectissima conjux 
 
 Elizabetha, Filia Johannis Cokayne, 
 
 de Cokayne Hatley, in com. 
 
 Bedf. Armigeri, iu conjugalis fidei 
 
 Corporisq. feternum indivulsi sponsionem 
 
 Amorisque monumentum hoc statuit. " 
 
 Under the lady is : — 
 
 " In CI. V. Doniinum Patritium 
 
 Home, vulgo Hume, Scotum. 
 
 Quam male convenit tibi natis, 
 
 Quani male nomen ! 
 
 Istud Humum Hominemq. sonat, 
 
 sonat ilia Tenebras. " 
 
 Under the knight : — 
 
 " Vita .sed illustris, nee jiroptev 
 
 Humum tibi neque 
 
 nudum Hominem sperarat, erat : 
 
 nunc corpore tandem, 
 
 atq. horaine exuto, quantum mutatus 
 
 ab I LLC es ! 
 
 b
 
 xvm MEMOIR. 
 
 Corpus Humo Tenebrisque relinquis, 
 
 csetera vivis, 
 
 ^Eternum iudutus Lucemq. Polumq. 
 
 Deumq." 
 
 Tliere are other inscriptions throughout the church 
 over the remains of several members of the family of 
 Cokain, given in detail in Mr. Eugeley's letter, which 
 concludes thus : — 
 
 "At the east end of the church stands the old family mansion 
 of the Cockaynes, surrounded with a broad and deep moat, over 
 which is a drawbridge. The entrance to the house is through 
 an ancient porch into a large hall (that occupies the whole height 
 of the building), with a curious timber roof, and a music gallery 
 at one end, built in the reign of WiUiam Rufus. The ends of the 
 house are of a more modern date. The estate continued in the 
 family of the Cockaynes till about the year 1740, when it came 
 to Savile Cockayne Cust, Esq., who left it to Sir John Cust, 
 late Speaker of the House of Commons, and is now in possession 
 of Miss Lucy Cockayne Cust. " 
 
 The works of Sir Aston Cokain are these : — 
 
 1. Masque: presented at Berthie, in Derbyshire, 1639, before 
 the then Earl of Chesterfield, on a Twelfth Night. 
 
 2. Dianea : an excellent new Romance. Written in Italian 
 by Gio. Francisco Loredano, a noble Venetian. In foure books. 
 Translated into English by Sir Aston Cokaine. London, printed 
 for Humphrey Moseley, at the sign of the Prince's Arms, in St. 
 Paul's Churchyard. 1654. 12mo. 
 
 This is dedicated "to the Right Hon. the Lady ]\Iary 
 Cokaine, Vice-Countess Cullen." "My best of friends, Colonell 
 Stamford, gave me the author, and intreated me to teach him 
 our language." To this "worthy friend" he has an epigram, p. 
 157 of his jjoems. 
 
 3. In 1658 appeared "Small Poems of Divers Sorts. Writ- 
 ten by Sir Aston Cokain. London, printed by Will. Godbid. " 
 
 To these were appended : 
 
 4. "The Obstinate Lady: a Comedy. Written by Aston 
 (-'okain." 
 
 5. " Trappolin Creduto Principe: or, Trappolin suppos'd a 
 Prince. An Italian Trage-Comedy. " 
 
 6. In 1G62 these were re-issued, with the addition of "The 
 Tragedy of Ovid, written by Sir Aston Cokain, Baronet," and 
 a general title-page thus : "Poems. With the Obstinate Lady, 
 and Trapolin a supposed Prince. By Sir Aston Cokain, 
 Baronet. Whereunto is now added the Tragedy of Ovid, in- 
 tended to be acted shortly. London : Printed for Phil.
 
 MEMOIR. XIX 
 
 Stephens, junior, at the King's Arms, over Middle Temple 
 Gate, in Fleet Street, 1662." The Tragedy of Ovid appears to 
 have also been issued separately at this time, as well as in 1669. 
 ' ' Thersites, and Tyrannical Government, which may well be 
 supposed to be none of his, though placed to him by Winstanly 
 and Phillips. You may find it in their alphabet of anonymous 
 plays." — Continuation of Lowjhaine, 1699. 
 
 The biographers of Sir Aston Cokain have univer- 
 sally, when noting the printed edition of the Tragedy 
 of Ovid, added "with his bust laureated, and four 
 lines underneath." 
 
 The portrait prefixed to the Tragedij of Ovid is not 
 that of Sir Aston, but of Ovid. It is a medallion in 
 which is the bust of Ovid, his head encircled with a 
 laurel leaf, with the legend around, "Poetarum ingeni- 
 osissimus. Publius Ovidius Naso, eques Romanus." 
 And underneath are these lines : — 
 
 " The sweet-tongu'd Ovid's counterfeit behold, 
 Which noblest Romans wore in rings of gold ; 
 Oy woidd you that, which his own pencil drew. 
 The poet in his deathless poems view." 
 
 There is, however, a portrait of Sir Aston Cockayne, 
 without an engraver's name, a laurelled bust, with 
 these lines : — 
 
 " Come, reader, draw thy piu'se, and be a guest 
 To our Parnassus ; 'tis the Muses' feast. 
 The entertainment needs must be divine ; 
 Apollo's th' host, where Cockain's head's the sign." 
 
 The merits of his several dramatic pieces which 
 form this volume have been individually discussed in 
 their relative prefaces, and it will be some satisfaction 
 to the editors to learn that their readers' opinion 
 coincides in some measure with their own. 
 
 James Maidment. 
 
 W. H. Logan. 
 
 Edinbukgh, 20</t January 1874.
 
 A MASQUE, 
 
 PRESENTED AT BRETHIE, IX DERBYSHIEE, 
 ON TWELFTH NIGHT, 1639.
 
 From A Chain of Poems, rvritten hxj Sir Aston Cockayne. 
 London, printed by W. G., and are to he sold by Isaac Prid- 
 more at the Golden Falcon, near the Neiv Exchange. 1658. 
 12mo.
 
 The following Masque was presented at Brethie, in Derbj-sliire, 
 on Twelfth Night, 1639, before the Right Honourable Philip, 
 the first Earl of Chesterfield — uncle of the author— and his 
 Countess, ' ' two of their sons acting in it. The diversion 
 terminated with a ball." Langbaine observes: "This Enter- 
 tainment has been omitted in all former catalogues, as, I 
 suppose, through an oversight, it being but short, and printed 
 in the body of the author's poems amongst others of a difl"erent 
 nature. " 
 
 Philip, first Earl of Chesterfield, was son of Sir John Stan- 
 hope, who, in the 38th of Elizabeth, was constituted Treasurer 
 of the Cliamber, and, in 24th of the same reign, Mas made Con- 
 stable of the Castle of Colchester, both of which appointments 
 were for life. Philip, in the 14th of James i., — i.e. in 1616, — 
 was advanced to the dignity of Baron of the realm, by the title 
 of Lord Stanhope of Shelford ; and in the 4th of Car. i. created 
 Earl of Chesterfield, in Com. Derb. He was twice married — 
 first to Catharine, daughter of Francis, Lord Hastings, son and 
 heii' to George, Earl of Huntingdon, by whom he had eleven 
 sons ; of which John, Charles, Edward, William, Thomas, 
 Michael, ami George died young ; Philip was slain in de- 
 fence of Shelford House, his father's residence, in the time 
 of the Civil War ; and Ferdinand had also lost his life in the 
 King's cause some two years previously. Henry thus became 
 heir-apparent to the earldom, but, dying during his father's life- 
 time, Arthur only survived, and two daughters, — Sarah, mar- 
 ried to Sir Richard Houghton, Bart., and Elizabeth, to Edward 
 Darcy, Esq. of Newhall, in Com. Derb. By his second wife, 
 Anne, daughter of Sir John Paekington of AVestwood, in Com. 
 Wigorn., knight, and widow of Sir Humphrey Ferrers of Tam- 
 worth Castle, Com. War., he had only one son, Alexander, 
 who became Ambassador to the Court of Spain, and afterwards 
 Envoy Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to the States of Hol- 
 land. This is the account given in the Peerage of Englaml, 
 2d edition, 1710, 8vo, supposed to be written by Collins ; but in 
 the case lately presented to the HoTise of Lords by George Philip 
 Stanhope, who successfully claimed the earldom, it is stated that 
 there were two sous the issue of this marriage, — Alexander and 
 George, — the two young gentlemen, it is to be presumed, who 
 peiformed in the Ma-ique. The earl died 12th Sept. 1656, and 
 was succeeded by his grandson Philip, only son of Henry, heir- 
 apparent. 
 
 In Sir Aston's Poems these lines, dedicated to the memory 
 of one of his cousins just mentioned, occur : —
 
 4 A MASQUE. 
 
 An Epitapli of Colonel Ferdinand Stanhope, son to the Earl of 
 Chesterfield, ivlio was slain about Slielford, and lies there 
 hurled. 
 
 " Here underneath this monumental stone 
 Lie Honour, Youth, and Beauty, all in one ; 
 For Ferdinando Stanhoije here doth rest. 
 Of all those Three the most unequal'd Test. 
 He was too handsome and too stout to be 
 Met face to face by any enemy ; 
 Therefore his foe, full for his death inclin'd, 
 Stole basely near, and shot him through behind."
 
 THE PKOLOGUE. 
 
 To he spohen hy ivJiom the Masquers shall appoint. 
 
 To you, great lord, and you, most excellent lady. 
 And all this well met, welcome company, 
 Thus low I Idow, and thank, that you will grace 
 Our rude solemnities with such a presence.
 
 A MASQUE. 
 
 TM Lar Faimiliaris of the house being proud of so much 
 and great company, and glad of their free and noble 
 entertainment, ajypears, to congratulate the hospitality 
 of the Lord and Lady, and speaks these lines : — 
 
 Better than I could Avish ! Superlative 
 
 To all relations, not examples now ! 
 
 I've known the household gods of Eome and Greece, 
 
 And all the good Penates of fam'd Troy, — 
 
 Heard Avhat they could triumph in, of their fates ; 
 
 Tell jovial stories of the frolic Greeks, 
 
 And the great banquets of fam'd Ilium ; 
 
 Have been inform'd of Egypt's glorious feasts 
 
 To entertain the courtly Antony : 
 
 Yet was there or necessity, or pride, 
 
 Or empty prodigality in all. 
 
 Here is a course steer'd even and voluntary ; 
 
 And I rejoice as much as Ganymede, 
 
 Olympus' nectar and ambrosia keeper. 
 
 Here I gTow fat, with plenty of all sorts 
 
 That either seas, or land, or air can yield ; 
 
 And here I live as well admir'd, as envied 
 
 By all the Lares of all other places : 
 
 For there's a constancy in my delights, 
 
 A blest Elysium, where I do not want 
 
 The tithe of any wish I ever thought. 
 
 The proudest Lares of the greatest princes 
 
 May boast of state, and languish in a noise, 
 
 Whilst here I live secure, and do enjoy 
 
 As much of everything but fears and dangers. 
 
 And may it last while fate attends on time, 
 
 Until the supreme deities of heaven
 
 8 A IMASQUE. 
 
 Think you too worthy to adorn the earth. 
 And mean to fix you glorious stars in heaven ! 
 And while there's air but to receive a sound, 
 May your names busy it to speak your i:)raise ! 
 Continue ever matchless, as you are 
 A pair without compare, and but a pair. 
 
 A Satyk, invited by the loudness of the music and the 
 2)erpetual concourse of people, to inform himself to 
 tvJmt end all tended, comes boldly in, and meets with 
 the Lar Familiaris. 
 
 Lar. What means this bold intrusion 1 
 
 Sat. Friend, forbear ! 
 
 Though I was born i' th' woods, and rudely bred 
 Among the savages, I have a mind 
 Aspires the knowledge of great princes' courts. 
 And to what end aims all this jollity 
 In yours as well as others' palaces ? 
 
 Lar. Dost thou approach to censure our delights. 
 And nip them in the bud ? Satyr, take heed ! 
 We'll hunt you hence through all the woods and lawns, 
 And over all the brooks thine eyes have seen. 
 
 Sat. You threaten more, perhaps, than you can do. 
 What art ? 
 
 Lar. I am this palace deity. 
 
 Sat. I wish thou wert a servant unto Pan, 
 Or any god that doth frequent the fields. 
 
 Lar. So would I not ; I'm better as I am. 
 
 Sat. Thy ignorance bewitches thee to this : 
 Thou liv'st among all fears, all noise, all cares. 
 While I walk merry under heaven's bright eye. 
 We in the fields are free from any sin 
 Against th' almighty deities of heaven : 
 We know no law but nature's, do not tremble 
 At princes' frowns, have neither fear nor hope, 
 And are content, — a state the gods exceed not. 
 You languish in a perpetuity 
 Of thoughts, as unconfin'd as are your ends; 
 You truly lavish all your faculties 
 In getting covetous wealth, which we contemn.
 
 A MASQUE. 9 
 
 Your sleeps are starting, full of dreams and fears, 
 
 And ours as quiet as the barques in calms. 
 
 The youthful spring makes us our beds of flowers, 
 
 And heaven-bright summer washeth us in springs 
 
 As clear as any of your mistress' eyes. 
 
 The plenteous autumn doth enrich our banquets 
 
 With earth's most curious fruits, and they unbought. 
 
 The healthful winter doth not pain our bones. 
 
 For we are arm'd for cold and heat in nature. 
 
 We have no unkind loves in meads or fields 
 
 That scorn our tears, or slight our amorous sighs ; 
 
 Nor are we frantic with fond jealousy. 
 
 The greatest curse Jove could inflict on's Queen 
 
 For all her curious search into his life. 
 
 We in the woods esteem that beast the stateliest 
 
 That hath his head the richliest spread with horns. 
 
 The Golden Age remains with us, so fam'cl 
 
 By your Athenian and Roman poets. 
 
 Thus we enjoy what all you strive to get 
 
 With all the boundless riches of your wit. 
 
 Lar. Satyr ! when I but say th' art ignorant. 
 Thy flourishing boast is answered at the full. 
 
 Sat. But I desire a larger way. 
 
 Lar. And take it ! 
 
 Canst thou compare the rags of nakedness 
 Before the studied dressings of these times. 
 And canst thou, like a cold and stony cave 
 Before the perfum'd beds of palaces. 
 Admire the melancholy falls of waters, 
 Or whistling music of th' inconstant winds ; 
 The chirping discords of the wanton birds 
 Above the angel- voices of our ladies, 
 And th' exquisite variety of music 
 Order'd to thousand several instruments ; 
 Content to cloy thy homely appetite 
 With crabs, and sloes, and nuts, and rude-mix'd herbs, 
 Before the stately banquets of the great 1 
 How canst thou like beasts' inarticulate voices 
 Above the Heaven-given eloquence of men 1 
 Forsake the woods, fond Satyr, and but try
 
 10 A MASQUE. 
 
 The unthought difference 'twixt them and us ! 
 The hills are fit for beasts. Converse with men, 
 And thou wilt never like thy cause again. 
 
 Sat. Thou almost dost persuade me ; but then I 
 Shall leave mine old and honest company. 
 
 La7\ Thy new ones shall exceed them. Here's a 
 butler 
 Will give thee wine as rich as is thy blood ; 
 And here's a cook will clothe thy bones with flesh 
 As rich as was young Jason's golden fleece. 
 
 Sat. Well ! I wilflive with thee. 
 
 Lar. And welcome, Satyr ! 
 
 Sat. Spite of the fates, and Grecia's best protector, 
 I'll be Achilles, and o'ercome by Hector,* 
 
 Lar. A resolution worthy thy Sylvanus ! 
 
 Sat. But for my last farewell unto the woods, 
 I'll show you a wild dance of nimble Satyrs ; 
 For we do dance as much as they that live 
 In princes' courts and tissue palaces. 
 
 First Song. 
 
 You Satyrs that in woods 
 Have frozen up your bloods, 
 Advance yourselves, and show 
 What great Pan's men can do ! 
 Appear ! 
 
 Here you had need beware, 
 And move as swift as air ; 
 These are not sylvan swains, 
 But courtly lords and dames 
 Sit here. 
 
 * The cook's name.
 
 A JIASQUE. 1 1 
 
 The Anti-Masque. 
 
 Satyrs ruddy hit decently attired, stuck tvith floivers, 
 and hay-cluiplets on their Jieads, come in, and dance 
 as many several antics, and in as many several shapes, 
 as sludl he necessary. Being ready to depart, tico 
 excellent youths, in rich apparel, come striving in 
 together, to whom the Lar speaks. 
 
 Lar. What do you mean, sweet boys, to interrupt 
 Our sports 1 I pray you leave your Avrestling thus, 
 And do not strike your skins, too soft for blows. 
 
 1 Boy. He Avould outrun me, and be kiss'd before 
 me. 
 
 2 Boy. And he leave me among these dreadful 
 Satyrs. 
 
 Lar. Whence come you ? 
 
 1 Boy. AVe both were left i' th' woods, and tempted 
 
 Such things as these to live abroad with them. 
 Lar. What would you have % 
 
 1 Boy. I would go to my father. 
 
 2 Boy. And I unto my mother. 
 Lar. Who is your fixther ? 
 
 1 Boy. The ever-honour'd Earl of Chesterfield, 
 Worthy of all his titles by his virtues, 
 
 And full of noble thoughts, — a great maintainer 
 Of our great-grandfather's virtue — hospitality ; 
 The feeder of tlie poor ; whose gate 's so open 
 It doth not need the office of a porter ; 
 Whose house is now Delphian Apollo's seat. 
 For he's the patron of all arts and wit ! 
 
 Lar. And who is your mother, pretty one 1 
 
 2 Boy. She is the Countess to that noble Lord, — 
 A lady worthy more than earth can give her ; 
 Eich in those virtues make her sex admired ; 
 
 A fair exceeder of the best examples 
 
 Tliat Greek or Roman stories ere produc'd ; 
 
 Goddess of Tame, of Anchor, and of Trent.
 
 12 A MASQUE. 
 
 She's sucli an one as liath none equal to her, 
 And therefore you may very easily know her. 
 
 Lav. I know them both, and honour'd in my know- 
 ledge. 
 Sweet youth, yond' is your father ; kiss his hand ! 
 And that, fair little one, th' unequall'd lady 
 You asked for. Go, and beg a kiss of her ! 
 
 Here the Lord of tlie house gives his hand to his son, and 
 the Countess hisses Mr son. Then tJie Satyr speaks 
 to his companions. 
 
 Sat. Fellows, since you have done, farewell ! I'll 
 leave you 
 And all the rural pastimes of the woods ; 
 I like this noble company so well. 
 That I hereafter here intend to dwell. 
 
 The Anti-Masquers depart ; then the Lar Familiaris 
 speaks to the Satyr. 
 
 Lar. Now, Satyr, I will let thee see how far 
 The palace-pleasures do exceed the woods. 
 
 The Lar leads the Satyr to a curious hoiver, all decFd 
 icith the best and finest floivers of the season, and 
 opens a wide entry into it, where, sitting upon 
 p)leasant hanks, full of the siceetest herbs and deli 
 catest flovjers, he discovers the Masquers, then 
 presently invites them forth with this song : — 
 
 Second Song. 
 I. 
 
 It is unfit we should be dumb. 
 
 When beauties like to those of heaven, 
 To grace our mirths, are hither come. 
 And help to make our measures even. 
 Then let us dance, and let us sing, 
 Till hills and dales with echoes riug.
 
 A MASQUE. 1 3 
 
 II. 
 
 Now it is fit our souls should know 
 
 No thought but what is full of pleasure ; 
 That we our sorrows should out-go, 
 
 And tread them down in every measure. 
 Then let us dance, and let us sing, 
 Till hills and dales with echoes ring. 
 
 III. 
 
 'Tis mirth that raiseth up the mind, 
 
 And keeps diseases from the heart ; 
 Sports hai'mless never were inclin'd 
 To cherish vice, but to divert. 
 
 Then let us dance, and let us sing. 
 Till hills and dales with echoes ring. 
 
 Here tlu Grand Masquers come forth, the ladies dress' d 
 like the ancient goddesses. Then the Lar speaks to 
 the Satyr. 
 
 Lar. Satyr, sit ! and observe awhile alone, 
 For I do mean to mix with these in dance. 
 
 Here they dance what or as many set dances as they 
 please, the Masquers being men and women, or 
 only tvomen. IVhen they have danced all they in- 
 tended, the Lar, or one of the Masquers, invites the 
 spectator-ladies with this song to join 'with them: — 
 
 Third Song. 
 I. 
 
 Come, ladies, rise, and let us know. 
 Now you have seen, what you can do. 
 Hark ! how the music doth invite 
 All you to solemnize this night ; 
 Then let the sounds that you do hear 
 Order your feet unto your ear.
 
 1 4 A MASQUE. 
 
 rise ! rise altogether, 
 
 And let us meet ; 
 Music's divine, and well may join 
 
 Our motions rude unto a sweet. 
 
 II. 
 
 The figures of the magic art 
 
 We'll equal in a better part ; 
 
 Judicial astrology 
 
 Cannot cast such an one as we ; 
 
 Add but your skill, as we desire, 
 
 And we'll keep time to Phoebus' lyre ! 
 
 rise ! rise altogether, 
 And let us meet ; 
 
 Music's divine, and well may join 
 Our motions rude unto a sweet. 
 
 Here all the comjMny dance ivliat they please and loMle 
 they please. JFJien they leave, the Lar, or one of 
 the ]\Iasquers, sings this to the spectator-ladies as 
 they go from them : — 
 
 Fourth Song. 
 
 Ladies, enough ! we dare not 
 
 Tempt you to more than this. 
 Now may your servants spare not 
 
 To give each of you a kiss. 
 If we were they, you should have them, - 
 
 To recompense your pain. 
 happy they that gave them, 
 
 And may give them again ! 
 'Tis late — good night ; go sleep, and may 
 Soft slumbers crown your eyes till day ! 
 
 This being sung, the Masquers, the Lar Fa-miliaris, 
 and the Satyr go into the arbour, which closes on 
 them.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY 
 A COMEDY.
 
 The Ohsi'mate Lmly ; A new Comedy never formerly puh- 
 lished. The scene London. Written by Sir Aston Cockayn. 
 London, Printed by iV. Godbid for Isaac Pridmore, and are 
 to be sold at his shop at the sign of the Falcon, beyond the Neio 
 Exchange, in the Strand. 1657. ito. 
 
 The Obstinate Ladu : A Comedy. Written by Aston Cokain. 
 London, Printed by William Godbid. 1658.
 
 The first edition of The Obstinate Lady was printed in 4to 
 in 1657, but without the knowledge or consent of the author. 
 The year following appeared "A Chain of Poems, embellished 
 with wit, mirth, and eloquence ; together with two most ex- 
 cellent comedies, viz. The Obstinate Lady and Trappolin 
 supposed a Prince, written by Sir Aston Cockayn. London, 
 printed by W[illiam] G[odbid], and are to be sold by Isaac 
 Pridmore, at the Golden Falcon, near the New Exchange. 
 12mo." The author, in his " Apology to the Eeader," affords 
 this information: "These poor trifles, courteous reader, had 
 not now become so troublesome to the world, if it had been in 
 my power to have prevented them ; for at my going once out 
 of London, I left them with a friend of mine, who dying, they 
 were dispersed into divers hands. Mr. William Godbid got my 
 Obstinate Lady, and though he found it Avith the last leaf torn 
 out, wherein my conclusion to the play with the epilogue were, 
 he procured some acquaintance of his to supply tlie defect at the 
 end, and so printed it. And though that comedy be very mucli 
 of it writ in number, he put it forth as if the most part of it 
 were prose. Here you have that defect much amended, and my 
 own conclusion and epilogue added. I was fearful my Trap- 
 jjolin and other poems should have run the like misfortune, and 
 therefore made a diligent inquiry after them, and when I had 
 found them out, could not get them delivered without ]iarting 
 with some monej', and promising my honest friend, Mr. W. 
 Godbid, — after I had afforded him some small correction, — I 
 would bestow them on him, with my consent, for the press ; 
 for, indeed, without his assistance I sliould not have recovered 
 them out of a gentleman's hands, whom I will forbear to name." 
 Mr. W. Godbid, printer, although his "honest friend," would 
 seem to have secured his own advantage in the transaction. 
 However, there is not much to complain about, apart from 
 monetary expectations, if such there were on the part of the 
 author, inasmuch as that portion of The Obstinate Lady which 
 Mr. Godbid's "accpiaintance" had supplied consists often lines 
 only. It is a continuation of Falorus' speech, and comes in 
 thus, after he has said, " How you have fix'd me in a fortunate 
 and glorious life :" — 
 
 "Madam Rosinda, I thank you. Come, my dear Lucora, let us 
 bid our friends good night, with as short a compliment as may be, 
 — for I'm in haste, — that so we may congratulate eacli other's 
 happiness in a place more convenient. 
 " Jaq. I'll follow you, I'll warrant you. 
 Into the cellar. Y>\\t stay — O ! 
 I had almost forgot — 
 
 C
 
 18 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Thus have you seen, by i^atience great, 
 You may o'ercome a lady obstinate." 
 
 Copies of the collected editions of Sir Aston Cockayne's works 
 are very scarce, and command a high price in the book market. 
 The rarity of the quarto edition of The Obstinate Lady forms 
 the principal claim to its being reprinted here ; while at the 
 same time the author's clever plays of Trappolin and of Ovid's 
 Trarjedy, which follow, determined the puljlication of his entire 
 dramatic works. 
 
 Of the play itself, the Biographia Dramatica says, but upon 
 Avhat authority is not stated, ' ' it met with no great success. " 
 That it was ever performed appears questionable, for although 
 not devoid of some merit, the incidents and some of the charac- 
 ters of the piece did not present sufficient novelty at the time 
 to render it more than usually attractive. There is a close 
 resemblance throughout to Massinger's Very Woman, and the 
 "Carionil" and "Lucora" of Cockayne appear to be the reflex 
 of the "Don John Antonio " and "Almira" of Massinger, to 
 whom our author in his poems addresses, as his friend, some 
 eulogistic verses on his tragi-comedy called The Bmperor of 
 the East, and others on his tragi-comedy called The Maid of 
 Honour. These are reprinted among the several commendatory 
 poems prefacing Gilford's edition of Massinger's plays, 4 vols. 
 8vo, 1805-13. The first of these was written at the instigation 
 of Lord Slohun, Cockayne's uncle, to whom the tragi-comedy 
 was inscribed, and who was so pleased with a perusal of ]\Ias- 
 singer's printed works, that he not only commissioned his 
 nephew to express his satisfaction, but to present the writer 
 "with a token of his love and intended favour." Here is an 
 excerpt : — 
 
 " Thou more than poet ! our Mercury, that art 
 Apollo's messenger, and dost impart 
 His best expressions to our ears, live long ! 
 To purify the slighted English tongue, 
 That both the nymphs of Tagus and of Po 
 May not henceforth despise our language so. 
 Nor could they do it if they e'er had seen 
 The matchless features of the Faerie Qu^erie — 
 Read .Jonson, Shakespeare, Beaumont, Fletcher, or 
 Thy neat-lined pieces, skilful Massinger. 
 Thou known, all the Castellians must confess 
 De Vega Garpio thy foil, and bless 
 His language can translate thee, and the fine 
 Italian wits yield to this work of thine." 
 
 Through Sir Aston Cockajme's poems one fact was contri- 
 buted to the nieagie biographical history of Philip Massinger, — 
 that he assisted Fletcher in the composition of several of his 
 plays ; and this has been confirmed bj' Malone, who, when an 
 inquiry was set on foot, succeeded in finding e'vidence in the
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 19 
 
 archives of Dulwich College. These confirmatory documents 
 will be found in Gilford's Life of MassbKjer, prefixed to his 
 dramatic works, vol. i. p. 49. 
 
 Attention was first called to this by Sir Aston's poem 
 addressed to Humj)hrey Mosley and Mr. Humphrey Robinson, 
 the publishers of Beaumont and Fletcher's collected works in 
 folio, thus : — 
 
 " In the large book of plays you late did print 
 In Beaumont and in Fletcher's name, why iu't 
 Did you not justice ? — give to each his due? 
 For Beaumont of those many writ but few, 
 And Massinger in other few ; the main 
 Being sole issues of sweet Fletcher's brain. 
 But how I came, you ask, so much to know? 
 Fletcher's chief bosom-friend informed me so. 
 I' th' next impression therefore justice do. 
 And print their old ones in one volume too ; 
 For Beaumont's works and Fletcher's should come forth. 
 With all the right belonging to their worth." 
 
 Again, in his letter "To my Cousin Mr. Charles Cotton," 
 he says : 
 
 " Had Beaumont liv'd when this edition came 
 Forth, and beheld his ever- living name 
 Before plays that he never writ, how he 
 Had frown 'd and blush'd at such impiety ! 
 His own renown no such addition needs, 
 To have a fame sprung from another's deeds. 
 And my good friend, old Philip Massinger, 
 With Fletcher wrote in some that we see here. " 
 
 The incident of Cleanthe, in the Obstinate Ladtj, disguising 
 herself and following Phyginois as a page, is borrowed from 
 Beaumont and Fletcher's very poetical play of Philaster, or 
 Love-Ues-a-Bleedin<j. There, Euphrasia, the daugliter of Dion, 
 assumes the name of Bellario and follows Philaster, to whom 
 she is eventually united. Tobin has made use of the same 
 device in his excellent comedy called the Honeymoon.
 
 THE PEOLOGUE. 
 
 Brave crown of gallants, welcome ! May this place 
 
 Meet expectation ; you afford us grace. 
 
 We joy that such a multitude divine 
 
 Of planets in our little spheres do sliine ; 
 
 And that besides our horizon is stuck 
 
 With lesser lights, we do esteem 't good luck. 
 
 For the great favour, may each several scene 
 
 Affect you more than Hebe's nectar Heaven. 
 
 We can but wish 't ; for if y' are come to-day 
 
 In expectation of a faultless play, 
 
 Writ by learn'd Jonson, or some al)le pen 
 
 Fam'd and approv'd of by the Avorld, you then 
 
 We disappoint. Our poet had never yet 
 
 Hisses condemn, or hands commend his Avit. 
 
 Troth, gentlemen, we know that now-a-days 
 
 Some come to take up wenches at our plays ; 
 
 It is not our design* to please their sense, 
 
 We wish they may go discontented hence. 
 
 And many gallants hither come, we think. 
 
 To sleep, and to digest their too much drink : 
 
 We may please them, for we will not molest. 
 
 With drums or trumpets, any of their rest. 
 
 If perfum'd wantons do for eighteenpence 
 
 Expect an angel, and alone go hence, 
 
 We shall be glad with all our hearts, for Ave 
 
 Had rather have their room than company ; 
 
 For many an honest gentleman is gone 
 
 Away for want of place, as, look ye, yon ! 
 
 AVe guess some of you ladies hither come 
 
 To meet your servants, wh' are at dice at home ; 
 
 You'll be deceiv'd, and therefore Avill dispraise. 
 
 And say, this is the worst of all the plays 
 
 You ever saw ; but keep your censures, pray, 
 
 Until you meet them here another day. 
 
 Our poet is not confident, nor dotli 
 
 Distrust liis Avork, but labours 'twixt them both. 
 
 He hopes it Avill be lik'd, and well ; if not, 
 
 'T can be but hiss'd at worst, and soon forgot. 
 
 * " It is not in our power." — 1st ed.
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 PoLiDACRE, An old Lard. 
 
 Philander, His Son. 
 
 Carionil, . A young Lord ; the counterfeit Negro, and 
 
 called Tucapelo. 
 
 Falorus, . His Friend. 
 
 LoRECE, . A fantastic Gallant, his Brother. 
 
 Phyginois, Called Dracidemion. 
 
 Jaques, . An old simple Serving-man of Vandona. 
 
 Servants. Maskers. 
 
 RosiNDA, . Polidacre's JVife, called Tandorix. 
 
 Lucora, . The Ohstimde Lady, her Daughter. 
 
 Cleanthe, Her Sister, called Anclethe. 
 
 Vandona, . A young rich JVidoiv. 
 
 Antiphila, a fine young Lady. 
 
 Nentis, . Lucoi'a's woman, Vandoncis Sister. 
 
 The Scene — 
 LONDON.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY 
 
 A COMEDY. 
 
 Act I. — Scene i. 
 Enter Carionil and Falorus. 
 
 Fal. She has outgone my belief by 't. 
 I did not think that project would have failed : 
 I cannot speak her ! 
 
 Car. The Alpian snow is not more cold. 
 
 Fal. Her disposition is most strange. 
 
 Car. 'Twere easier far 
 
 To spurn the sultry Cyclops' anvil down, 
 And kick it thus int' atoms in the air, 
 Than to obtain her love : 
 It were, my dear Falorus ! 
 
 Fal. think not so, Carionil ! 
 
 Car. Have I not cause 1 
 
 Fal. At last, after a constant and a brave pursuit, 
 She may be won. 
 
 Car. Could I but hope so much, 
 
 Did all the stars' malignant influences"" 
 Threaten fate opposite to my happiness, 
 I would not deem them worthy my observance, 
 But persevere till I obtain'd, or fell.t 
 
 Fal. Conjecture still the best. 
 
 Car. 'Tis easier to advise than to perform. 
 Had you, Falorus, been so oft dismiss'd 
 
 " " Did all the storms, malignant influences."— 1st ed. 
 t "Felt."— /6k/.
 
 24 THE OBSTINATE L.ADY. 
 
 Comfortless, scornfully sent away 
 By her own lips — heavens ! you could not think 
 it! 
 
 Fal. I could and would. 
 
 Car- With hope, friend 1 
 
 Fal. Yes ; with an assurance. 
 
 Car. Upon what ground would you iDuild it ? 
 
 Fal. Upon a woman's frequent dissimulation. 
 Can you believe, Avhen envious clouds deprive 
 Your eyes from the sun's beams,* that it shines not 1 
 In these times, young ladies for a while 
 Do mantle their affections in dislike ! 
 Let not an ignorance of virgins' wiles 
 Disturb your noble breast with weak despair : 
 Carionil, assume a confidence ! 
 Were you inferior unto her in blood, 
 Or any whit deform'd, after her nays 
 You might suspect the period, but seeing 
 'Tis known, as noble blood runs through t your 
 
 veins, 
 And that nature compos'd you in a mould 
 As excellent as she was formed in, and 
 AYith substance of as beauteous a gloss. 
 You need not let doubts puzzle you. 
 
 Enter above Lucora and Nentis. 
 
 Car. Stay and admire with me ! Exalt your eyes 
 To happiness ! 
 
 Fal. Your mistress and her woman, my Carionil I 
 
 Car. Lucora ! She's a transcendent of epithets ! 
 
 Fal. I see a lute ! Let us escape theu' sight. 
 And it is likely we shall hear her sing ! 
 
 Luc. Now give it me ! Is it in tune 1 
 
 Nen. Yes, madam ! 
 
 Car. Forbear awhile to play upon the spheres, 
 Ye servants to the deities ! The gods 
 Will blame you, if your music keep the air 
 Of her all-ravishing harmony from their ears ! 
 
 * ' ' Sunbeams. "— !«« ed. fin- ''—Ihid.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 25 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 Sweet Diana ! virtuous queen ! 
 
 By heaven's edict guide of night, 
 That dost affect the meadows green, 
 
 And dost in fresh-leaved woods delight ! 
 Like to thy nymphs, suffer me 
 To consecrate myself to thee. 
 
 II. 
 
 Thou that for lust didst transform 
 
 Rash Actseon to a hart ! 
 Either most strongly maidens charm. 
 That men may never them divert 
 From purity, or else make 
 Them other harts for virgins' sake ! 
 
 Car. How ! — A vot'ress to Diana '? 
 The heavens forbid that injury to earth ! 
 Had the deceitful Syrens such a voice. 
 And bodies of so rare a form, I Avould 
 Ne'er come on shipboard, for fear of being drawn 
 To drown myself by swimming after them. 
 
 Nen. I do not like her, madam. 
 
 Luc. Who ever spoke ill of Daphne 1 Fie ! 
 Banish such impious censures from you ! 
 
 Nen. Troth, madam, I should have been glad to 'a * 
 been my Lady Apollo ! 
 
 Luc. Oh, relish more of purity, Nentis ! Alas ! 'tis 
 a frail comfort can come with a husband. 
 
 Nen. I think otherwise indeed, madam. 
 
 Luc Be all such thoughts remote from my breast ! 
 My resolution shall be never t to marry ! [Exeunt. 
 
 Car. Now you have heard her thoughts, Fiilorus. 
 
 Fal. That she disguises not her love, you mean 1 
 
 Car. True ; and I am most miserable. 
 
 Fal. My happy friend you will be. 
 
 * "Toh'bcen."— ls<e'i. 
 
 f " Shall never stand to marry." — Ihld.
 
 26 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 'Tis an ignorant, common custom among young ones 
 to do so. 
 
 Car. But she's a fixed star, and cannot move. 
 
 Fal. Fixed in your heart, 'tis likely j 
 But otherwise, I doubt, nor do you. 
 
 Car. Y'ave stirred a feeble belief within me, friend, 
 That the excellent Lucora may be won, 
 And I will nourish it unto some heighth. 
 
 Fal. A necessary that none must want which do 
 Desire fruition of those whom they woo ! 
 
 Enter Jaques. 
 
 Car. 0, honest Jaques ! 
 
 Jaq. My lady presents her service to your lordship. 
 
 Car. She is in health, I hopel 
 
 Jaq. Very well. And I am glad to see your honour 
 so, though I say it. 
 
 Car. She is not towards another husband yet 1 
 
 Jaq. No, certainly. 
 
 Car. Methinks her fortunes should give her a vari- 
 ous choice. You are elsewhere employed, I perceive. 
 Remember my best respects unto your lady. 
 
 [Exit Jaques. 
 Y'ave heard of my cousin Vandona, Falorus 1 
 
 Fal. But very little. 
 
 Car. She's the most fantastic piece of womankind I 
 e'er chang'd breath with ; but a young one, wealthy, 
 and truly not unhandsome. 
 
 Fal. Lorece does intend to make love to her. 
 
 Car. Your brother, my Falorus 1 
 
 Fal. Yes ; so he told me. 
 
 Car. May he obtain her if you wish'd 1 
 
 Fal. Her estate would make the match a good one. 
 
 Enter Cleanthe. 
 
 Is this the boy you so commended to me ? 
 
 Car. 'Tis he ; and think you him worthy the praise 
 I gave him 1 
 
 Cle. He'll come and wait upon you at night, my 
 lord.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 27 
 
 Car. 'Tis well, Anclethe ! 
 
 Fal. You spoke him not unto his merits. 
 
 Car. You are beholden to my friend, Anclethe ! 
 
 Enter a Page.* 
 
 Fal. Your lord's in health ? 
 
 Page. And desires to speak with your lordship. 
 
 Fal Where may I find him 1 
 
 Page. He'll be at his lodgings these two hours. 
 
 Fill. I'll wait upon liim presently. 
 I am his servant ! [Exit Page. 
 
 Carionil, I must take my leave ! 
 
 Car. The gods go with you ! He may be my father- 
 in-law, but will not if he can prevent it. Adieu, 
 friend ! [Exit Falorus. 
 
 0, my Anclethe ! thou canst not guess the world 
 of torments I nourish here. I cannot number them 
 myself; and, because I cannot, I fear the gods will not. 
 
 Cle. What can you ail, my lord % 
 
 Car. Canst thou imagine me free from misery ? 
 
 Cle. Indeed I did ! 
 
 Car. No, there's a lady — she's above all ladies. 
 And, were she pitiful, I would swear, a goddess — 
 That does deny me happiness ! 
 As thou hast me, Idalian archer, so 
 On her use thy eternal stringed bow ; 
 Draw to the head thy shaft, and let it fly ! 
 For love, but love, there is no remedy. 
 
 [Exit Carionil. 
 
 Cle. Wretched Cleanthe ! to what a multitude 
 Of woeful sighs my destinies have drawn me ! 
 Could all the tears that I abundantly have wept 
 But find that recompense I dare not look for, 
 they were showers to be belov'd, like those 
 That deck the spring with bravery. Carionil, 
 For whom I languish in disguise, it seems 
 Hath settled his affections on a lady 
 Does not return his love. May she continue 
 Obstinate ever ! But I must blame her judgment : 
 
 * Called, in the first edition, Tandorix.
 
 28 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Who can behold a man, with all the art 
 Of nature, fram'd to curiosity, 
 And hear the world report his virtues equal 
 Unto his form, and not admire and love him 1 
 
 Enter Lorece. 
 
 Lor. Now, my young sweet face ! what pretty foolish 
 whimsies trouble thy pate that thou lookest so com- 
 posedly 1 
 
 Cle. Sir, I am as I use to be. 
 
 Lor. Then you use to be scurvy 1 Use the tavern 
 once or twice a day. You must not be so maidenly ! 
 
 Cle. It best becomes me. 
 
 Loi'. Canst thou swear 1 
 
 Cle. The gods forbid ! 
 
 Lor. Canst thou sing 1 
 
 Cle. Not worth your hearing, sir. 
 
 Lm: Say'st thou so ? Then I Avill some things worth 
 thine ! 
 
 Of six-shillings beer I care not to hear — 
 A barrel's not worth a carrot. 
 
 I, as others, think that there is no drink 
 Like unto sack, white wine, and claret ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Diana's a fool, and me shall not rule 
 
 To live a bachelor ever ; 
 For I mean not to tarry in her livery, but marry. 
 
 And quickly, believe me, or never ! 
 
 III. 
 
 And I and my wife will lead such a life. 
 As she shall think well befell her ; 
 
 For throughout the year, we'll tij^ple March beer. 
 And seldom be out of the cellar.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 29 
 
 IV. 
 
 All Stoical prate and Diana I hate, 
 
 With her maidenly scurvy advices ! 
 
 Green sickness upon her — sweet Venus I honour, 
 For wenches and Avine are not vices ! 
 
 V. 
 
 Would Bacchus, the knave, had met with this brave 
 
 Diana, this whey-blooded lady ! 
 For the credit o' th' grape, he had made a rape, 
 
 And got a puissant baby ! 
 
 Cle. Y' are not melancholy, sir ; your brother is 
 more solemn. 
 
 Lor. I melancholy] I scorn it, boy ! And yet I'm 
 not so merry as I was wont. The young gunner, Mr. 
 Cupid, has somewhat tam'd me ; but I am good mettle 
 still, thank my jovial fates, and will sound melodiously, 
 my young Paris ! 
 
 Enter Jaques. 
 
 Welcome to Hercules, noble Theseus ! Good boy, go 
 wait on thy master ! [Exit Cleanthe. 
 
 How dost thou, old magazine of precious knavery ? 
 
 Jaq. I am glad to see your worship well ! 
 
 Lor. My noble milliner* of Avords ! thou that dost 
 grind thy speeches with a merry pronunciation, wilt 
 be my bosom, my cabinet, my friend, Jaques 1 
 
 Jaq. I will obey your good worship. 
 
 I^or. Liberally spoken ! When I have opened me, 
 will you be privy ] 
 
 Jaq. Very secret and officious ! It is good manners 
 in me. Your command shall wedge my tongue, hedge 
 my heart, and tie a true-lover's-knot upon it with the 
 strings of it. 
 
 Lor. Thou art an honest clod of earth, Jaques ! 'Tis 
 great pity the malicious sunshine warm'd thee not into 
 a diamond ! 
 
 * " Milner" in first edition, signifying a miller.
 
 30 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Juq. Your worship speaks above my brains. 
 
 Lor. I am marvellously enamour'd on your lady, 
 Jaques. Vandona is my mistress ! 
 
 Jaq, Wonderful news ! Is my lady your worship's 
 sweetheart 1 
 
 Lor. Yes ! Ijut ignorant of my affection yet. 
 
 Jaq. I would be drunk were you my master, sir ! 
 
 Lor. I would have a wine-cellar o' th' purpose. My 
 estate, Jaqiaes, is but mean — it must be craft must 
 get her. Knowest thou any possible way to win her ? 
 
 Jaq. Sir, I am passing empty of invention, but 
 wherein I can pleasure you, tell me at any time, and 
 I will not fail you. But the gods bless your good 
 worship ! Sir, would you marry her ? 
 
 Lor. Yes, my old trusty Pirithous ! Why dost 
 wonder at it ? 
 
 Jaq. She does nothing all day but read little 
 comedies, and every night spends two or three hours 
 on a great tragedy of a merry fellow, Dametas, and a 
 company of strange-named learned lovers. She's no 
 more housewife than you or I, sir — on my own proper 
 knowledge, I swear, vow, and j^rotest ! 
 
 Lor. Thou art too earnest, my old-faced Saturn ! I 
 think her not the worse woman. Housewifery is the 
 superficies of a genteel female, and the parenthesis of 
 a lady, which may well be left out. 
 
 Jaq. You are a scholar ; your booksliip shall direct 
 me. 
 
 Enter Phyginois. 
 
 Lor. Who's that 1 Knowest thou him, Jaques 1 
 He walks corantoly,* and looks big ! 
 
 Jaq. And like your worship, this tide first brought 
 him to my eyes. 
 
 Lor. He came not by water, did he, old boy 1 
 
 Jaq. I meant Time, sir, the London word. 
 
 Phjg. When we this passion into us receive, 
 Our former pleasures we do loath and abandon :t 
 
 * Trippingly, as though dancing. 
 
 t Phyginois, in fiist edition, goes on with the text, which, down
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 31 
 
 Jaq. Leave, by your leave ! 
 
 Phyg. If it were foolishness in us to take 
 Affection, why did heaven two sexes compose 1 
 
 Jaq. Make would make rhyme ! 
 
 Phyg. Why period to the Phoenix doth fire give. 
 But because it doth against nature consist ? 
 
 Jaq. Live, he should say. This is some very small 
 poet. 
 
 Phyg. I'll on, and am resolved to prefer 
 My life to be a service unto her ! 
 
 Lor. What an affected utterance has this fellow ! 
 
 Jaq. He'll ne'er make good ballad, warrant him, 
 that Avill not rhyme when he may. 
 
 Lor. The catastrophe was in rhyme, though. He 
 would be lik'd for a stage poet. 
 
 Phyg. Noble heroes ! the gods extend your fortunes 
 to your thoughts ! 
 
 Lor. An academical idiom ! Encjuire his name, 
 Jaques ! He delivers his mind after the garb of a 
 signor. 
 
 Jaq. Have you a name, friend ? 
 
 Phyg. I answer to Dracumelion ! 
 
 Jaq. Good sir, let's trudge hence ; this is some great 
 conjuror ! 
 
 Lor. Are you a necromancer ? 
 
 Jaq. Mr. Lorece, I fear he is some Saracen ! he looks 
 so dismal ! 
 
 Lor. Art thou a Paynim % Speak ! 
 
 Jaq. For all your great looks, Terniegant is an idol ! 
 
 Phyg. I am nor one nor other, but your honour's 
 vassal, and a poor Englishman. Wilt please you to 
 hear the music of Helicon 1 
 
 Jaq. Law you now, sir ; how one may be deceiv'd ! 
 I believe this whorson is a fiddler ! Can you sing, 
 sirrah 1 Answer me ! 
 
 Phjg. I am no fiddler, but live by my tongue and 
 
 to "service imto her," is here put into dialogue; and the text 
 runs thus : "If it were foolishness for us to take affection, why 
 did Heaven two sexes compose ? — why period to the Phoenix doth 
 fire give? — but Vjccause it doth against nature consist. He one 
 and the same resolved to prefer uiy life to be a service unto her."
 
 32 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 legs. Will you hear me, noble sir, speak a Parnassian 
 oration, or see me measure the ground with a dance 1 
 
 Lor. What sayest thou, Jaques 1 
 
 Jaq. Why, now, sir, 'tis dinner-time with my lady, 
 and I dare not neglect her, neither will I my own 
 stomach ; and therefore, for me, he may show us a fair 
 pair of heels, and he gone ! 
 
 Lor. AVell, then, — spend this for me. 
 
 Fhyg. Y' are, sir, the best part of a moralist. You 
 are most liberal ! 
 
 Lor. Come, Jaques ! 
 
 Jaq. I follow you, sir. Farewell, good man, Pra- 
 culemen ! The gods bless me, there's a name ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Phyg. Proceed, Phyginois, and be fortunate ! 
 This project will furnish me with money to clothe me 
 both fashionalily and rich enough, and then 
 I dare assail my Nentis with some confidence — 
 Politic lovers seldom miss. 
 
 Smile, heaven, upon my plot, that there may be 
 A crowned period to my policy ! [Exit. 
 
 Scene ii. 
 Enter Polidacre and Falorus. 
 
 Pol. HoAV do you like Lucora 1 
 
 Fed. She's a lady above my thoughts, much more 
 my tongue ! 
 
 Pol. Could not you wish her yours ? I have a de- 
 sire to make her so. 
 
 Fal. Ambrosia, Hebe's cates, are for the gods ! 
 Princes she doth deserve to woo her love. 
 You undervalue her, my lord ! 
 
 Pol. The best is not too good for him that gets her. 
 Your breeding has been worthy your descent ; 
 I've known you from your infancy, and am 
 Desirous to make you mine. 
 
 Fal. He enforceth me to an acceptance — I must
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 33 
 
 temporize with him. Most worthy Polidacre, I cannot 
 attain to a greater happiness on earth than to bear the 
 name of your son-in4aw. 
 
 Pol. I thank thee, my Falorus ! I'll go presently 
 and get my daughter's consent. As you shall not 
 want beauty with her, so you shall ]iot money ! I'll 
 take my leave. 
 
 Fal. I am your most humble servant ! 
 
 [Exit POLIDACEE, 
 
 "What envious star when I was born divin'd 
 This adverse Fate 1 Who, having such a beauty 
 Proffer'd him, would refuse it ] The pin'd man, 
 Whom poets' fantasies have plac'd in hell 
 "With fruit before him, had not such a cross ! 
 The true regard I bear unto my friend, 
 The brave Carionil, must not be slighted. 
 The sacred truth of friendship ever should 
 By force enfeeble all rebellious blood ! 
 
 Enter Carionil. 
 
 Well met, my dear Carionil ! 
 
 Car. I am happy in your company. Y' are my 
 heart's best treasury, Falorus ! 
 
 Enter LucoRA and Nentis. 
 
 But give me leave, my friend. 
 
 Fal. ! I see the cause — your mistress ! 
 
 Car. Retire, ye clouds, and weep out showers of woe, 
 Because ye may no longer stand and gaze 
 On her for whom the heavens their circuits go, 
 That they may see and wonder at her face ! 
 Dear Falorus, withdraw yourself awhile. 
 
 Fal. The gods assist your suit ! 
 
 Car. Thanks, worthy friend ! [He withlravs. 
 
 Hail ! nature's most perfect work, and the continual 
 idea of my admiring soul, for whom, if 't be your will, 
 I must die, and by whom, if it is your dear pleasure, I 
 shall ]ivi', — live in an unspeakable felicity by enjoying 
 you, di(! happily for wanting you ; and cannot live in 
 such a penury. 
 
 C
 
 34: THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Nen. "Would I had such a servant ! I should not 
 serve him scurvily. 
 
 Car. Honour your poor adorer, lady, with a gracious 
 look of your beloved eyes, and my misery for you 
 both with commiseration and remedy ! 
 
 Luc. My lord, if you presume upon a woman's 
 Feign'd carriage to her wooers, leave it now ! 
 For, if you'll give me leave, I'll call to witness 
 Every particular deity we adore : 
 That I will never have a husband ! And 
 For your saying you must die for me, I hold it 
 A common compliment of idle lovers. 
 And wish you so much happiness, that you 
 May live well Avithout me ! 
 
 Car. 0, be not so unmerciful ! 
 Let not that tongue err into virulent words, 
 Which could have call'd Eurydice from hell. 
 Had your most excellent mother, fairest lady, 
 Inexorable been, you had not been ; 
 Nor crimson roses ever spread upon 
 Your lovely cheeks, nor had the world discover'd 
 Two planets more. Hath nature liberally 
 Heaped the rarest perfections she could give 
 Mortality upon you to no end 1 
 No, surely ; nor can I believe that she 
 Meant to enclose a mind infractible 
 Within a body so powerful to subdue. 
 As you, even your dear self, was daughter to 
 A beauteous mother, so you also should 
 Indebt the world unto you by your issue ! 
 Be not so cruel therefore, dear Lucora ; 
 Let not your tongue degenerate from your form. 
 
 Luc. Sir, you have heard me speak what I intend. 
 
 Gar. Be not a tigress, lady ! 
 
 Luc. Anything but a wife ! 
 
 Sir, I must leave you, and leave you this humour ; 
 The Court hath many ladies, take your choice. — Nentis ! 
 
 Nen. Madam ! 
 
 Zw. Come ! My lord, take my counsel. 
 
 Nen. I could use him kindlier.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 35 
 
 Car. What say you, lady ? 
 
 Nen. Nothing, my lord. [Eommt LUCORA arul Nentis. 
 
 Car. Doth a fair face presage a cruel heart 'i 
 Is't not a mere* full contrary in nature 
 That the softest body should be hard'st to Avin ? 
 Nature is grown decrepit, and all things 
 Sublunary err against the rule of order. 
 Stir not, then, thou glorious fabric of the heavens, 
 And periodize the music of the spheres ! 
 Thou even yet fast fixed globe of earth, 
 Whirl round in a perpetual motion ! 
 Ye stars and moon, that beautify the night. 
 Change rule with clear Hyperion, and so cast 
 Succeeding time into another mould I 
 Then, with thy powerful beams, Apollo, draw 
 The ocean into clouds, and drown the world ; 
 So there a new creation may befal, 
 And this life be a life celestial. 
 
 Enter Falorus. 
 
 all my happiness on earth, my true Falorus ! 
 Lucora's beauty triumphs in my bi^east, 
 And shortly Avill destroy me. There's no beast 
 That haunts the vast Ara})ian wilderness 
 Of such a merciless constitution. 
 She'll never marry man ! 
 
 Fal. She will, Carionil. Her father would have 
 her, and she has not so much evil as to contradict his 
 will. Where, then, can she make such a choice as 
 you % That, in a duel, your grandfather did kill hers, 
 y've heard her oft protest she values not. 
 
 Car. Does he desire it, or does your love flatter me 
 into a little possibility of obtaining her ? Alas ! if she 
 could like me, her father would very difficultly con- 
 sent. He loves not my family. 
 
 Fal. Polidacre could not hinder you, Avere she AA^illing. 
 But, friend, her ftither means to marry her. His oavu 
 lips offfr'd her to me. 
 
 Car. ye just heavenly poAvers I then I am lost, 
 
 * This only.
 
 36 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Sunk into misery beneath a spark 
 Of this life's happiness ! 
 Falorus, you shall not have her ! 
 
 Fal. I would not wrong my noble friend so much. 
 
 Car. A puff of wind, and gone ! For her, who 
 would not 
 Do all mankind an injury, and out-act 
 In horrid deed all those that e'er profess'd 
 Licentious Atheism 1 Unsheath your sword ; 
 I will not take that life basely away 
 . Which next unto Lucora's I esteem. 
 Yet stay ! 
 
 Fal. He's frantic ! Withdraw this frenzy, ye gods ! 
 
 Car. You are my friend 1 
 
 Fal. I have been so accounted of by you. 
 
 Car. Let me consult it out. Shall one word, — 
 Nay, which is less, one syllable, — friend, extract 
 Out of me all the interest that I 
 Have to Lucora by affecting her ] 
 But this is a false medium : a true fi'iend 
 Exceeds all syllables and words at height. 
 A man may — nay, he should — poise equally 
 His love, and part unto his friend the justice of it, 
 Which is the full half ; so that it appears 
 They should be lov'd by's as we love ourselves. 
 But to a mistress who would not give more 1 
 Who can choose to give more 1 The love that we 
 Bear to a friend, it is an accident, a meet one ; 
 But 'tis our nature to affect a woman. 
 And 'tis a glory to preserve a mistress 
 Entire to one's self, without competitors. 
 My reason's satisfied. No friendship can 
 Keep in the sword of any rivall'd man. 
 
 Fal. Collect yourself, Carionil. 
 
 Car. You'll fight with me 1 
 
 Fal. I do not wear a weapon for such a quarrel. 
 
 Car. What, more affliction yet ! 'Tis against man- 
 hood- — • 
 A most ignoljle murder — to take his life 
 AVho makes no opposition. And yet, if death
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 37 
 
 Prevent him not, she Avill be his. Sad fates ! 
 You shall not have Lucora ! 
 
 Fal. You AATong our amity by this suspicion. 
 I swear I will not ! 
 
 Car. How 1 
 
 Fal. Consider, dear Carionil. I grieve 
 To see my friend so over-passionate ; 
 It is a weakness in you to be a pitied one. 
 
 Car. My love o'ersway'd my reason. Pardon me, 
 My best Falorus ! I believe your virtue 
 Would not act such an injury against 
 Your own Carionil ! 
 
 Fal. Shall we walk, and I'll tell you all that passed 
 'TAvixt me and Polidacre 1 
 
 Car. I am a thousand ways obliged yours. 
 
 Fal. You are my Carionil. I wish no more 
 From you than perpetuity of love. 
 And that our hearts may never be untied. 
 
 Car. You are too Avorthy for my friendship. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene hi. 
 
 Enter Antiphila sola, reading. 
 
 " Fair Antiphila hath hair 
 Would grace the Paphian queen to wear ; 
 Fit to tune heaven's lute withal, 
 AVhen the gods for music call ; 
 Fit to make a veil to hide 
 Aurora's blush each morning tide ; 
 Fit to compose a crafty gin 
 To take the hearts of lookers in ; 
 Able to make the stubborn kind. 
 And, who dislike it, t' be judged blind. 
 Though it is soft and fine, it ties 
 My heart that it in fetters lies." 
 
 It is a neat I know not what — I have not poetry 
 t'liuugh in me to give it a name. These lovers are the
 
 38 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 prettiest fools, I think, in the world ; and 'twere 
 not for them, I cannot tell what we Avomen should 
 do. We desire nothing more than to be praised, and 
 their love to us will do it beyond our Avishes. I gave 
 Phylander, upon his long importunity, a lock of hair 
 and see into what a vein it has put him ! I'm sorrj^ 
 he had it not a Aveek sooner ; I should then, perhaps, 
 lia' had a sonnet-book ere this. 'Tis pity Avit should lie 
 obscurely AAdthiu any, that a lock Avill give it vent. I 
 loA'e him not ; I should rather choose his father, Avho is 
 as earnest a suitor to me as he. Yet I knoAV, because 
 of his age, A^ery feAv ladies would be of my mind ; but 
 as yet I care for neither of them. 
 
 Enter Phylander. 
 
 NoAV I must expect an assault. 'Tis in's ear already. 
 He's Aery fine. 
 
 Phyl. My dear Antiphila, you have received 
 
 Anti. Your A-'erses, sir 1 I liaA^e. 
 
 Phjl. I am your true adorer for them, lady. 
 Would your Avhite hand had done me the honour it 
 did them ! 
 
 Anti. In Avhat, sir 1 You must explain. 
 
 FhiiL That a touch of your skin might liaA^e ravish'd 
 me into happiness. 
 
 Anti. The lock has alter'd your discourse. I Avould 
 it had shut your mouth. 
 
 Phjl. There's no need of that, excellent Antiphila. 
 I would rather depriA^e myself of my tongue than that 
 any word of mine should be offensiA'e unto you. 
 
 Anti. You relish too much of the court. 
 
 Phil. Polite Avords can never misbecome a sjieaker 
 who hath such a subject. 
 
 Anti. Am I your subject '?— You have called me 
 mistress ! 
 
 Plujl. You are my saint, lady, and I must pray to you. 
 
 Anti. Saints hear no jirayers, some say. 
 
 Phyl. Pray you shoAV otherwise, by granting mine.* 
 
 * In place of this, Phylander, in first edition, merely says, " I 
 am a petitioner."
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 39 
 
 Anti Have you any more papers 1 
 
 Phijl. My moutli shall speak mine own errand. 
 
 Anti. You must pardon me now, sir ;* I must leave 
 you. [Exit Antiphila. 
 
 Phijl. She yet is obstinate ; but I am free 
 From doubt she Mall continue in that way. 
 There is no cause of fears in f women's nays, 
 For none of that sex means the thing she says. 
 
 Enter KosiNDA. 
 
 Now, Tandorix, where's my father % 
 
 Eos. Faith, I know not, sir. 
 
 Phi/I. You are one of the melancholiest servants he 
 keeps. 
 
 Eos. It pleases you to say so, sir. 
 
 Ehyl. They all report so of you. 
 
 Eos. I cannot tell, sir. 
 
 Ehyl. Y' are over lonely ; be merrier ! You should 
 put yourself into more company ; you should, Tandorix. 
 I respect you for my mother's sake, for whose last sad 
 letter you were entertained here. 
 
 Eos. I thank you, sir, for your kindness. 
 
 Ehil. Farewell, Tandorix ! [Exit. 
 
 Eos. My son perceives my sadness ; but the cause 
 Deserves it fully. 'Tis now above a year 
 Since I did write that I did drown myself, 
 And bare the paper to my husband when 
 I thought his memory Avas somewhat lost. 
 And I inur'd unto this habit, drawn 
 To 't by a fond desire to know if he 
 Would keep his promise to me, which with oaths 
 He oft hath made, that never, if he should 
 SurAdve me, he would take another wife ; 
 But he, as other men, esteems no more 
 Of perjury than common breath. 'Twere fit 
 That husbands' nows upon the sands were writ. [Exit. 
 
 * "He will not be kept from it else. You must pardon me, 
 sir."— l.y< ed. 
 t "Fear for."— /6(c;.
 
 40 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Act II. — Scene i. 
 Enter Lorece and Jaques. 
 
 Lor. I am beholding to tliee, Jaques ! 
 
 Jaq. I will be dutiful to your worship. 
 
 Lor. I should be glad to cope with your lady, now 
 methinks I am of a prompter expression than usual : 
 lovers and the muses are cater-cousins. 
 
 Eater Van DONA. 
 
 My Vandona, Jaques ! 
 
 Jaq. I must vanish like a mist. [Exit. 
 
 Lor. Farewell, grave Titan ! 
 I'll out with a poetical soliloquy in her hearing for 
 
 my preludium. 
 The gaudy stars are not more full of glee 
 When golden Phcebus setteth in the west, 
 Nor do the cheerful birds with more delight 
 Rejoice at the new livery of the spring, 
 Than I to have this miracle of beauty 
 Enter within the knowledge of mine eyes ! 
 
 Van. He speaks well : I would he meant earnest. 
 The gentleman seems very deserving, but he is some- 
 thing wild. 
 
 Lor. She shall be stoutly accosted. Impudency is 
 a very happy quality in a wooer. 
 
 Van. H' comes ! 
 
 Lor. Lady, you are not a puny in the court of 
 Cupid, and therefore, I hope, need not the tedious 
 circumstances of an annual service. I am bold to tell 
 you plainly I love j^ou, and if I find occasion, I will 
 maintain it boldly. 
 
 Van. I pray you, Mr. Lorece, desist. 
 
 Lor. Never, my sweet Vandona ! My descent, I know, 
 you doubt not, and my affection you need not. Whilst 
 I live I shall love you, and if you die, your memory. 
 
 Van. I shall be catch'd ! We widoAvs are glass 
 metal, soon broke.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 41 
 
 Lor. I can do no more, lady, and I will do no less. 
 
 Van. Your habit, carriage, and discourse, sir, show 
 yoil a traveller. 
 
 Lor. My boldness, she means. Sweetest Vandona, 
 I have been one. The habits, conditions, and situa- 
 tions of many great kingdoms I have exactly gathered 
 into my table-books ; and also my fortnight's observa- 
 tion of the Antipodes. 
 
 Van. Oh, strange ! have you been there 1 I wonder 
 how you came thither ! 
 
 Lor. I will tell you, lady. When I was bound 
 thither, I was in Asia, at Tlaxcallan ; there we took 
 ship, and in a pair of oars sailed to Madrid, the Catholic 
 King's court. From thence to Naples, in Savoy ; from 
 Nai:)les to Crema ; and thence to Alexandria, where, 
 against a tree, we suffered shipwreck. Into a neAv 
 phalake Ave therefore got us, which Avas rigg'd for 
 Frankfort, where shortly after we arrived, victuall'd 
 our gondola, and threw away our fresh water. 
 
 Van. 'Tis a great way thither. 
 
 Lor. Thence we went to Lisbon, and after to 
 Mantua ; and the next morning we came to the 
 Antipodes, at twilight i' th' afternoon. 
 
 Van. What sights saw you there, sir 1 
 
 Lor. So many sights, dear lady, that they almost 
 made me blind. 
 
 Van. Eelate a few ! 
 
 Lm: First, lady, the King is no man. 
 
 Van. I believe you, sir, for it never could enter my 
 mind that any man inhabited there. 
 
 L(/i: There they have no houses but the Emperor's 
 palace, Avhere Sir Francis Drake was entertain'd 
 after he had shot the PjTensean Gulf, upon the Medi- 
 terranean Mount, in Russia. 
 
 Van. Where, then, lies all the court, I wonder 1 
 
 Lor. In the court, mistress. 
 
 Van. I guess, hem ! but cold lodgings. 
 
 Lor. Your ladyship is mistook — they are never a 
 cold ; for the sun, being never al)ove an hundred de- 
 grees above Saturn, makes that climate as hot as
 
 43 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Norway. They at the Antipodes hear w-ith their 
 noses, smell with their ears, see by feeling, but taste 
 with all their senses, — for they are the most insatiable 
 gluttons under the cope, — and feel not anything, for 
 they cannot be hurt. 
 
 Van. This is wonderful ; and I cannot imagine how 
 their senses can be so contraiy to ours. 
 
 Lor. No ! Did you never hear, excellent Vandona, 
 that they are ojjposite to us ? 
 
 Van. yes ! I have indeed. 
 
 Lor. I will now tell you, madam, somewhat of the 
 South Indies, 
 
 Van. Has not the Mogul of Persia his bread thence 1 
 
 Lor. The King of Spain hath his gold there, of 
 which the Hollanders took a great prize Avhen they 
 won the silver fleet. 
 
 Van. How was I mistook ! 
 
 Lor. I will give you the situation of the country. 
 Some of the ancient geographers, — as Heliodorus, the 
 knight of the sun, Amadis de Gaul, and Palmerin 
 d' Oliva, — affirm it to lie a thousand Italian miles 
 from Isthmos at Corinth ; but some modern writers, 
 — as Don Quixote, Parismus, Montelion, and Merlin, 
 — say it is a peninsula in Arabia Felix, where 
 the phoenix is. But learned Hollinshed affirms the 
 South Indias are separated from Armenia by the 
 Caledonian Forest, from Asia Minor by the Venetian 
 Gulf, and from China by a great brick wall. There, 
 instead of cherry-stones, children play with pearls; 
 and for glass, the windows are of broad diamonds. 
 Hunters there have no horns but the unicorn's ; no 
 water runs there but Aganippe, Hippocrene, Scaman- 
 der, and Simois. There are no hills but Olympus, 
 Ida, and Parnassus ; no valley but Tempe [of Ascia 
 and Margiana] ;* no men but of the offspring of Scipio 
 African, Julius Caesar, Alexander the Great, Hector, 
 Hannibal, and Hercules ! 
 
 Van. It is a pleasant country, f 
 
 * Not in first edition. 
 
 t " It is a pleasant country then, and nobly peopled." — 1st cd.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 43 
 
 Lm: I will now tell you of the conditions of our 
 neighbour nations. The Spaniards are humble, the 
 Italians chaste, the French peaceful, the Dutch sober, 
 and the Irish cleanly. I came at last to Virginia, 
 where I saw nothing more worthy mention than an 
 honest woman who cast herself into the sea because 
 nobody would lie with her. In conclusion, at James 
 Town Port I took horse, and the next morning, after 
 a long and tedious journey, arrived in Wales. 
 
 Van. And what did you there, Mr. Lorece 1 
 
 Lor. As soon as I could, I went to Merlin's Cave, 
 Avhich is obscurely situated on- the top of a beech, 
 Avhere all the night he lay on the ground. 
 
 Van. What was he, sir ? 
 
 Lor. He was an intricate prognosticator of firma- 
 niental eclipses, and vaticinated future occurrents by 
 the mysterious influences of the sublime stars and 
 vagabondical planets ; generated he was by the in- 
 human conjunction of an incubus ; and was immur'd 
 alive in a cave by the pre-eminent magic of the Lady 
 of the Lake. 
 
 Van. You frecjuent plays, do you not 1 
 
 Lor. They are most commonly my afternoon's 
 em])loyment. 
 
 Van. I like him the better for it. [Aside. 
 
 And you have read many histories 1 
 
 Lor. Many, lady ! I am a worm in a book : I go 
 through them. 
 
 Van. This pleases me too. \Aside. 
 
 Farewell, sir ! 
 
 Lor. Admired Philoclea, leave me not so ! 
 
 Van. What would you have 1 
 
 Lor. Your consent, lady. 
 
 Van. Expect that a month or two hence. 
 
 Lor. Dear Vandona ! sweet mistress ! 
 
 Van. Indeed you must. 
 
 Lor. Nay, sweet Oxiana ! 
 
 Van. Y'are too importunate ! 
 
 Lor. Excellent Claridiana, Polinarda, Laurana, 
 Bradamant ! [Exit Vandona.
 
 44 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 It makes no matter, I am sure to have her. How 
 
 some Avomeii are taken "vvith strange tales ! 
 Next time we meet I do not doubt to get her : 
 Hercules could not woo a lady better. 
 
 Enter Jaques. 
 
 Now, my old Anchises ! how dost, truepenny ? Ee 
 merry, Jaques ! 
 
 Jaq. Is she tender-hearted 1 
 
 Lor. Respectful and pliant. 
 
 Jaq. Good truth, I am glad on't, sir. My lady, 
 though I say it, is of a very good nature ; my mind 
 always gave me she would be coming on. I beseech 
 your worship to be a good * master to me. 
 
 Lor. Thou shalt find me so. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene i i. 
 
 Enter Cleanthe, sola. 
 
 Cle. Imperious love, that hatest whom thou 
 woundest, 
 And those thou lovest best dost let alone ! 
 If my obsequious duty unto thee 
 Can move thee to commiseration, 
 Instruct me how to win him, and, Avhen I 
 Disclose myself, assist a wretched woman, 
 For it is in thy power to work my bliss. 
 He dotes upon a lady that regards 
 None of those miseries he undergoes 
 By languishing for her. With one fair stroke 
 Thy ignominy redeem ! thou art call'd blind 
 Because how thou dost shoot thou dost not mind. 
 But what avails it me thus to implore. 
 Or rather to reiterate those deep wishes 1 
 Millions of hours can witness I have said. 
 And yet find no help ! Ah ! dear and ever 
 Most lov'd Carionil, would'st thou wert so 
 * " Loving."— ls« ed.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 45 
 
 Strongly inflam'd as I, or didst conceive, 
 
 Truly didst know, what misery lies here ! 
 
 I think, though thou hadst sucked a ravenous wolf, 
 
 It would overcome thy nature, and thereby 
 
 Transform my sorrow to felicity ! 
 
 Enter Carionil. 
 
 Car. I cannot hope a letter I have writ 
 To my Lucora can find that accejitance 
 And bring so good success I wish it may. 
 Sure never man so passionately ador'd 
 A lady of so froward a disposition. 
 If I could know the cause she is unkind, 
 I would destroy it, or destroy myself. 
 Anclethe ! art thou there, my boy 1 Alas ! 
 "Why dost thou weep ? * 
 
 Cle. To see the sorrow you are always in, 
 And not to know wherefore. Though I, sir, am 
 Both young and little, I both dare and would 
 Venture my life to do you any service 
 That may redeem your happy days again ! 
 
 Car. Alas ! poor boy, it is past thy redress ; 
 Yet I do thank thee for thy love unto me. 
 
 Enter Eosinda. 
 
 Cle. My lord, a servant of my Lord Polidacre's I 
 
 Car. Tandorix ! What news % 
 
 Bos. The lady Lucora commanded me to deliver 
 this paper to you. 
 
 Car. 'Tis most welcome ; would my heart could 
 read it ! 
 
 lios. I wish he had my daughter, for he's a most 
 noble gentleman. [Aside. 
 
 My lord ! command you me any service 1 
 
 Car. Only my dear respects unto the lady that sent 
 you. 
 
 Bos. Farewell, Anclethe ! [Exit liosiXDA. 
 
 * " What are those tears for . 
 
 Thou dost weep away ? " — 1st ed.
 
 •46 the obstinate lady. 
 
 The Letter. 
 
 Car. " Sir, — I am sorry that, against my use, I 
 cannot answer you more civilly ; but I am blameless, 
 the fault being in your foolish passion, and not my 
 desire. If in fairer terms you should receive my 
 reply, I am sure you would think it some beginning 
 of love to you ; according to your desire I have none, 
 and I wish your love was such as mine, so we might 
 be friends. Yet I love you as a gentleman of my 
 acquaintance ; but if any more you trouble me with 
 letters or courting, I will hate you. So I end. — Her 
 own, LucoRA." 
 
 " Her own Lucora ! " I cannot now conceive 
 
 This lady of a humane nature. Sure, 
 
 A woman cannot have so harsh a mind. 
 
 " So I end ! " What ! will she end so always 1 
 
 Oh, then, that I might end even now ! that all 
 
 The sorrow that possesseth my whole body 
 
 In every member w^ould mutiny against 
 
 My heart, that so I might die speedily ! 
 
 Is it not miraculouslv stran2;e that this 
 
 Poor microcosm, this little body, should 
 
 Contain all the sorrow this great world can 
 
 Inflict upon it, and not sink beneath 
 
 So huge a burthen ? One hill does overcome 
 
 The struggling of Enceladus, a giant ; 
 
 And yet I stand, I live ! What ! am I of 
 
 Lucora's temper — impregnable ? Oh- — oh — oh ! 
 
 Cle. Alas, my master ! good my lord, collect 
 Your strength, and be not thus effeminate ! 
 
 Car. I'm manly, boy ! for women cannot tell 
 What thing afiliction is, their stony hearts 
 Relent so little at it in their lovers. 
 Oh ! I shall never have her ! Now I give 
 Liberty to a just despair to rack me ; 
 And it must ever do so. What a chaos 
 Of misery is an unfortunate lover ! 
 
 Cle. I pray you, sir, put off this vehemency of pas- 
 sion. She will relent !
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 47 
 
 Car. Never, whilst I live. 
 
 Cle. She will ; indeed, I know she will ! 
 
 Car. Would she would love me after I am dead for 
 her ! 
 It were some happiness to think that, Anclethe ! 
 
 Cle. I doubt not but she will shortly be yours, my 
 lord, 
 And weep for joy to hear me make relation 
 Of this same violent passion you are in now. 
 
 Car. Thou art a good boy ; but this lady — my 
 heart ! 
 Could sitting down in Cassiopeia's chair, 
 And kicking proud Arctophylax from the sky ; 
 Could stopping the Septeutrian sevenfold team, 
 And putting out the starry eagle's eyes ; 
 Could swimming violently up those rocks 
 From which the Memphian Nilus tumbles down ; 
 Could the compelling of rash Phaeton's sire 
 To change his course, and run from north to south ; 
 Could the adventuring to undertake 
 A journey through Africa's dread'st wilderness 
 AVhen the Cohans do loudest breathe. 
 And veil the sun with sandy mountains' height, 
 Enforce her to repent the tragedy — 
 By these attempts drawn on me she should find 
 What truth of love was in her servant's mind. 
 
 Cle. Keep back his hands, heavens ! from violent 
 deeds ; 
 Let him not offer injury against 
 His own dear life ! 
 
 Car. I have prattled too much, but I ha' done. 
 No longer shall my happiness be delayed, 
 Nor the displeased destinies any more 
 Jeer the sad depth of wretchedness I live in. 
 
 Thus Here I fall her cruel sacrifice ! 
 
 [Slabs himself. 
 
 Cle. Hold ! for heaven's sake, hold ! 
 
 Car. 'Tis too late to prevent. 
 Patience, Anclethe ! Commend me to Lucora, 
 That angel beauty without angel pity !
 
 48 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Tell her my woeful story, — how, e'er since 
 
 Thou knew'st me, I have languished for her ; 
 
 That I have spent whole nights in tears and sighs, 
 
 Whole days in solitude, to think of her ; 
 
 That I did suffer her unkindness, while 
 
 I had a dram of patience left within me ! 
 
 Tell her how her most cruel letter rais'd 
 
 A despair higher than my strength, and that 
 
 Under her strange unkindness I am fall'n. 
 
 Weep not, Anclethe ! I am faint — struck dumb ! 
 
 Fly, passionate soul, into Elysium ! [He faints. 
 
 Cle. Oh, my dear lord ! brave young Carionil ! 
 I'll wash thy wound with tears, stop it with sighs ! 
 Unkindest day that ever wore the sun ! 
 Thou art accurs'd, for giving light unto 
 His hand to guide it to an act so much 
 Beneath manhood. me ! I am undone ! 
 What now will my disguise avail me in. 
 Foolish sister Lucora 1 ye heavens ! . 
 Where lies our difference 1 Are we not the same 
 By birth on both sides 1 — of one sex ? Sui'e, nature 
 Degenerates against itself, or this 
 
 Untimely O ye gods ! I dare not name it, 
 
 Nor will I believe it. He is alive ! 
 So suddenly the world cannot be ruin'd ; 
 Which is if he be lost. All virtue gone — 
 All valour, piety, and everything 
 IVIortality can boast of. My lord ! noble 
 Carionil ! He doth not hear me. Alas ! 
 I am for ever most desolate of women. 
 Injurious heart-strings, break ! Why do you tie 
 Me to a life millions of degrees more loathsome 
 Than the forgetful sepulchre of death 1 
 Would, some commiserating benevolent star, 
 Which carries fate in 't, would, in pity to 
 My misery, take me from it ! For love he 
 Lies here this bemoaned spectacle, and shall 
 My passion be undervalued 1 Tears, nor sighs. 
 Nor dirges sung by me eternally 
 Can parallel our loves at full. It must be
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 49 
 
 The same way, and it shall ; the same blade 
 Shall be the instrument, and I receive it 
 Tragediously here on my knees. Would some 
 Kind body would inter us in one tomb ! 
 Be firm, my hand, and bold ! 
 Fal. Anclethe ! 
 
 Enter Falorus. 
 Cle. My lord Carionil calls ! Is 't you ? Then- 
 
 Fal. But I must hold you, and bereave your hand. 
 
 Cle. And you may also die : your friend is slain ; 
 My lord Carionil is dead, 
 The paper in his left hand yet that brought 
 His reason into such subjection 
 That he even franticly did stab himself. 
 
 Fal. I Avill extend my life till I have read it. 
 
 [He reads the letter. 
 Tliis lady is a rough-blown sea, on Avhich 
 His worthy life has foully suifer'd shipwreck ! 
 I have her ! Not Mercury pleading in her defence, 
 With oratory able to stint Jove's wrath 
 When he has bespoke thunderbolts of the Cyclops 
 To wreak some injury, should ever win me 
 To her bed ! Polidacre, mew her up, 
 Like Danae, in a brazen fort, or else 
 Make her to answer with her life this murder 
 She's accessory to. Proud piece of vanity ! 
 I do want words to give my thoughts expression. 
 So much I hate her ! Prithee, Anclethe ! pardon 
 My injury against thy rest, for holding 
 Thee in a life so loath'd as this is to thee. 
 I'll lead thee 
 
 Car. Oh— oh! 
 
 Cle. Withhold awhile, my lord ; he groans ! 
 
 Car. Thou art the cause, Lucora, and I must not 
 blame thee. 
 I struck not that blow right, but tliis shall do 't ! 
 I'm fainter than I guess'd ! I have not enter'd ! 
 What ! wlio has stole the stiletto from me 1 
 Boy ! Anclethe ! restore it, as thou lovest me ! 
 
 D
 
 50 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Fal. Carionil, I joy you are recovered. 
 Death is grown courteous, or by this you had 
 Been wand'ring in the Elysian groves. 
 
 Car. My friend, Falorus 1 
 
 Fal. Your loyal friend. Give me your hand, and rise. 
 I'm glad to see 
 
 Your wound no worse. 'Twas care and willingness 
 To die bereft you of your senses. I will show you 
 How you may ^vin your mistress. You hear me ] 
 
 Car. I like it well. It may prevail — I hope 
 It will. 
 
 Fal. Anclethe had slain himself had I not come. 
 
 Car. Good boy, thou wert too kind. 
 
 Cle. Indeed, my lord ! I never shall desire to survive 
 you. 
 
 Car. Divulge my death. 
 
 Ch. I will not fail. 
 
 Fal. Wliy, my Carionil, would you engage 
 So much yourself to any of that sex, 
 As for a disrespondency to lay 
 Violent hands upon yourself? 
 In truth, my friend, I wonder at it ! justly 
 You merit more than they can satisfy 
 With their endeavours all of them ! 
 
 Car. Proceed not, good Falorus, in this language. 
 
 Fal. What good do women 'i Old Amphitrite's face 
 Is not so full of wrinkles as they are 
 Of vices. 
 
 Car. No more, as you regard, what always yet 
 You have profess'd, our long-continued friendship. 
 
 women, most admired creatures ! how 
 
 Can the just heavens these speeches so allow ? 
 
 What good do women 1 I do say what ill, 
 
 Who do perform what men can only will ? 
 
 Why have we ears, if not to hear the sound 
 
 And sacred harmony their tongues compound 1 
 
 Why have we tears, if not to weep when we 
 
 Do chance a woman's discontent to see ? 
 
 Why have we eyes, if not to look upon 
 
 Their beauties — nature's high perfection ]
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 51 
 
 Why have we tongues, if not to praise them when 
 They slander'd * are by railings of ill men 1 
 Why have we reason all, if not to deem us 
 Hapjjy because some women do esteem us 1 
 Fed. You are their worthy champion. What I said 
 
 Was out of passion for Lucora's dealing. 
 
 I will report ye're dead ! 
 
 Car. I shall be obliged unto you by 't. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene hi. 
 
 Enter Phyginois, sohis. 
 
 Phy. My clothes are almost made, and everything 
 That does belong unto the habit of 
 A gentleman I have prepar'd me richly, 
 For in these garments I dare not accost her. 
 I had good fortune to come with Cleanthe, 
 Who hath been very bountiful unto me. 
 
 Enter Polidacre, Eosinda, Antiphila, Lucora, 
 and Nentis. 
 
 Pol. Lady ! I take it very kindly you 
 Would do me such an honour as visit me. 
 It shall be my study to deserve it. 
 
 Anti. My lord, this is too ceremonious ! 
 Pray you, let us walk. 
 I much approve of this air ; 
 I know no place so sweet about the city. 
 
 Pios. How observant he is ! He would fain make it 
 a match ; and I think she is willing enough. But I 
 shall prevent them with amazement. 
 I Avill see further in it first. 
 
 Phy. The heavens, worthy gallants ! be serene as 
 long as you presume under the safety of them ! 
 
 Pol. Know you this fellow, Tandorix 1 
 
 Plos. His name is Draculemion. 
 
 Pol. ! I have heard of him. 
 
 * "Scandal'd."— l.-fed
 
 52 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Nen. His behaviour, madam, is strange. 
 
 Luc. 'Tis some frantic. 
 
 Pol. What Avind brought you hither ? 
 
 Pluj. That which, noble sir, shall blow me all over 
 the universe to do you service. 
 
 Pol. I thank you for your compliment, for your 
 cajitainly protestation. 
 
 Phy. Brave bevy of gallants ! my jDurse being mil- 
 lions of degrees voider of money than my heart of 
 courage, I desire to empty my mouth of words to 
 fill up the vacuum of it, if you please to lend me 
 your attention, and afterwards to commemorate with 
 munificence the worth of my oration. 
 
 Pol. Sweet Antiphila, what say you ? 
 
 Anti. He speaks so strangely, I would fain hear him. 
 
 Pol. Draculemion, you know what to do 1 
 
 Phy. Hail, but fjiir weather ! I that have been the 
 favourite of inconstant fortune, and term'd worthily 
 by the worshipful title of a gentleman, am now debas'd 
 into an humble fugitive. Commiserate this wonderful 
 change, most excellent auditors ! and let your recom- 
 jDense be a help again to restore me, and a story to 
 exalt me towards the fastidmm of my pristine felicity, 
 and, at your connivance, I will post afoot to Mexico, 
 drink your healths till I'm sick, and kill any I hear 
 speak irreverently of you. These, and more than these, 
 will I accomplish, though to my perpetual ignominy, 
 or dissolution of my life, conditionally you Avill bestow 
 fluently upon your slave so undeserving a title. Dixi. 
 
 Pol. Here's for all the company ! 
 
 Phy. Will you give me leave to be grateful 1 
 
 Pol. Yes, surely. 
 
 Phy. Fie ! I'll not desire the Muses to replete 
 My willing genius with poetic heat ! 
 This subject doth transcend them. I'll desire 
 Apollo to this lay to touch his lyre. 
 Thou charioteer of heaven, that dost invest 
 Thy swift-hoof'd coursers in the dewy East, 
 With harness worked by Mulci]:»er, to light 
 The world, and dissipate the clouds of night !
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 53 
 
 For Phaeton's sake, not unto me unlike, 
 Thy sweetest notes unto this ditty strike ! 
 
 Pol. If the exordium be so long, 'twill he very 
 tedious before the conclusion. 
 
 Anti. Dismiss him, therefore ! 
 
 Pol. Farewell, Draculemion ! 
 
 Phy. Would I might kiss thee before Xentis ! [^Aside. 
 
 [Exit Phyginois. 
 
 Pol. Madam, how do you like the lord Falorus 1 
 
 Anti. Very well, my lord. 
 
 Pol. Him I have often motion'd to Lucora, 
 And he hath consented to marry her. Would it not 
 Be good fortune for her, think you 1 
 
 Anti. Indeed, I think it Avould. 
 
 Pol. How say you now, Lucora 1 
 
 Anti. For he is a much applauded gentleman. 
 Of good conditions, and of sweet behaviour, 
 Whose company is everywhere acceptable. 
 He deserves a good match — such an one as your 
 daughter is. 
 
 Pol. How say you, girl 1 Was anything I told you 
 of Falorus a falsehood 1 Come ! prithee, do thyself 
 a good turn, and take him. Do, Lucora ! 
 
 Luc. Dear father, jiardon me ! indeed I have not 
 Any desire yet to marry. 
 
 Pol. Sure you have ! Bethink you, and speak wiser. 
 
 Luc. Truly, I have not, sir. 
 
 Pol. Y' are a stubl)orn wench, and I am sorry 
 It was my hard fortune to be your father. 
 Your shrewdness shall not carry you through so 
 
 freely 
 As you believe it will ; it shall not, maiden ! 
 
 Anti. Do not chide her ! she will be ruled by 
 you. 
 
 Liic. Indeed, madam, I had rather live as I do. 
 
 Pol. No, I believe not that. There is some one 
 Or other far inferior unto him 
 Whom she's in love Avithal; perhaps some vile 
 Scum of the town. 
 
 Luc. Dear sir, you conceive amiss of me ; for I
 
 54 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Love no man yet, and hope I never shall 
 Be of another mind. 
 
 Pol. 'Tis false ! I cannot believe you. 
 
 Luc. If ever I should, I'd hate myself to place 
 Affection on a man of base birth or 
 Unseemly qualities. 
 
 Anti. Be not angry, sir. 
 
 Nent. I pray you, marry, madam, for it is 
 A state wherein one may securely kiss. 
 
 Luc. Leave thy foolery ! 
 
 Nent. ! 'tis a fine thing to have a coach of one's 
 own to go to a play when you will. 
 And be restrained from nothing you desire to do. 
 
 Ltic. Marriage is no such liberty as you make it. 
 
 PiOS. Alas, poor daughter ! thou art to be pitied. 
 
 Pol. Think of my Avill : I give you time. 
 
 [Exetmt all hut RosiNDA. 
 
 Eos. They have hard fortune, which the gods 
 remove. 
 That, where they cannot, are compell'd to love ! 
 I would she had Carionil : I esteem not the ancient 
 
 enmity 
 Between the families. 
 
 Enter Phyginois. 
 
 Now, Draculemion ! how do you 1 
 
 Phy. At your beck, and in good health, brave 
 sjDark of generosity ! 
 
 Pios. Faith ! I am sorry I must leave you. 
 I must needs follow my lord, otherwise 
 We would have had one pint together. 
 
 Phj. Thou art a jovial lad. Farewell ! 
 
 [Exit PiOSINDA. 
 
 my Xentis ! thou art a worthy Andromache, and 
 dost deserve Hector, the courageous Trojan wag. 
 
 Enter Philander. 
 
 Pliil. They are not here ! 
 Phy. I must try my trick again. 
 Divine Apollo, and ye Muses nine,
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 55 
 
 Can ye behold his ruin unto whom 
 Ye have vouchsafed sacred poesy ] 
 Or see him sleep under a hedge i' th' field 
 Vfho hath so often on Parnassus lain 1 
 Or seek the river for to quench his thirst 
 Who at Boeotian Hippocrene hath 
 Pledged Mnemosyne in full-fraught cups 1 
 Or Avander barelegg'd, who upon the stage 
 Hath acted oftentimes in socks and buskins 1 
 Or see him tann'd for want of an old hat, 
 Whose temples, unto his immortal praise, 
 Ye have so richly view'd begirt with bays 1 
 
 Phil. Draculemiou ! I am glad to find thee ! I'll 
 have a speech. 
 Fhij. Your worship shall. 
 
 FMl. Why, well said ! 
 
 As yet the contentious night has not exterminated 
 Hyperion from the celestial globe, who daily useth 
 to hawk with the firmamental eagle, and to hunt Ursa 
 Major round about the forest of the sky ; to go to 
 plough when he wants corn with Taurus, and, when he 
 is hungry, to eat Aries, and, at night, when he comes 
 i' th' West, to court the lady Virgo to be his bed- 
 fellow, whom, because he cannot obtain, he lashes on 
 his horses, and goes and reports her stubbornness to 
 his friends at the Antipodes. Nor as yet hath the 
 trumpeter Boreas blown stormy clouds into our 
 horizon, to deprive our eyes of the powerful radi- 
 ance of his orbicular and refulgent head. Nor as yet 
 am I weary to do you ser\dce, nor will be wliile I am 
 able. 
 
 Phil. Here's for you ! 
 What a wordy nothing thou hast spoken ! 
 
 Phi/. You have given me current silver for it. 
 Y'are a bountiful gallant ! [Exit. 
 
 Phil. My father is my rival, and I find 
 To him Antiphila is most inclin'd. 
 What the Fates Avill, we never can prevent, 
 And, till the end, we know not their intent. [Exit.
 
 56 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Act III. — Scene i. 
 
 Enter Falorus, solus. 
 
 Fid. A potion he hath took, and is o'ercome 
 By the deceitful working of 't, and lies 
 As if he had no interest in this life. 
 Lucora I have sent for, that we may- 
 See how she'll take it, for by her carriage now 
 We shall jDerceive if there be any hope. 
 
 Enter Cleanthe. 
 
 What ! will the lady deign her presence here ? 
 
 Cle. She vnW, my lord ! 
 ' Fal. 'Tiswell! 
 
 Cle. And is at hand of ent'ring. 
 
 Fal. Prithee, Anclethe ! bid them bring out my 
 friend. [Exit Cleanthe. 
 
 Though once Carionil did not believe 
 My protestations to him, to relinquish 
 All title to Lucora, yet I meant it. 
 Were she a lady far more excellent. 
 And richer in the ornaments of nature ; 
 Did she exceed the fairest of her sex 
 More than fine-featur'd Mars the ugliest SatjT ; 
 Were her tongue music, and her Avords enchanting, 
 And her conditions gentle, like a goddess, — 
 I'd rather carry ^tna in my breast, 
 Thau be disloyal to my friend ; far rather ! 
 
 Enter Cleanthe, and Sen^ants putting forth a bed 
 with Carionil upon it. 
 
 Thou art most dutiful, Anclethe. 
 O art ! * nature's most curious imitatress ! 
 How like a body late depriv'd of life 
 Does he lie sleeping, without motion ! 
 
 * "O, Anclethe!"— ls«cd;.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 57 
 
 Enter LucoRA and Nentis. 
 
 Cle. My lord, the lady Lucora ! 
 
 Fed. Draw back ! 
 
 But stay you here, Anclethe. [Exeunt Servants. 
 
 I thank you, lady, for this favour to us : 
 Were Carionil alive, he would requite it. 
 He would, unto the utmost ! 
 
 Liu:. My lord ! 
 
 I'm sorry that a gentleman, reputed ever 
 Most wise, and voiced by a general fame 
 To be complete and perfect in all goodness, — 
 The which Carionil was, — should thus destroy 
 The great opinion all the world had of him. 
 His depriving himself of his own life 
 For that foolish affection he bare me, — 
 I having often told him that he spent 
 His service barrenly, and that it Avould 
 Yield him no fruit, — was such a weakness in him, 
 That his life's honour his death's shame hath ruin'd. 
 Hither I came at his dying request. 
 Which, his boy told me, was to have me see 
 What my olxlurateness hath urg'd him to ; 
 For so he term'd it. His desire is satisfied. 
 Were he aHve again, I could not love him. 
 Sir, I should love him less for the poor weakness 
 This act accuses him of — I should, believe me ! 
 And so, my lord, I take my leave. 
 
 Nent. Had I been his mistress, he had liv'd. 
 
 [Aside. 
 
 Fed. Stay, lady! 
 Show more respect, for truly he deserv'd it. 
 
 Cle. But kiss his lips, if you will do no more. 
 
 Luc. The boy and all ? 
 
 Cle. Speaks reason. [Aside. 
 
 Luc. His ^y\\\ I have accomplish'd. Farewell, sir ! 
 
 [Exeunt LuuoRA aiul Nentis. 
 
 Fal. Hath she a heart 1 or, if she have, what metal 
 or stone is it of ] 
 Dost not thou think, Anclethe, that man happy
 
 58 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Who's free from all the molestations 
 
 That are concomitants to affection, 
 
 And to the grievous bondage of a woman 1 
 
 Cle. My lord ! contingently. 
 
 Fal. Thy timeless inexperience doth deceive thee. 
 Believe me, boy, there does not live a woman 
 Who more than complimentally is my mistress. 
 
 Cle. Sir, you do not fear to love one of them 1 
 
 Fal. Yes ; and the gods keep me still in that fear ! 
 Sure such another [as Lucora] * put out Cupid's eyes. 
 
 women, women ! 
 
 Cle. Truly, my lord, I do believe all ladies 
 Are not cruel ; indeed I do ! 
 
 Fal. Thou art too young to be suspected, otherwise 
 
 1 should think that some subtle false one had 
 Beguil'd thy youth. ISTature has worked the potion 
 
 out. 
 
 Cle. My lord recovers strength. 
 
 Car. Howis'tl 
 
 Fal. How does my friend 1 
 
 Car. Eepeat my destiny. 
 
 Fal. Receive it with as calm a quietness 
 As I deliver it. Your ear ! [Privately. 
 
 Cle. Vouchsafe him patience, ye gods ! 
 
 Car. When huge-wav'd rivers from the earth's high 
 banks 
 Precipitate themselves into the ocean, 
 Will stillness follow 1 Can you think, then — can you, 
 I may be quiet 1 Was Jove so when the great 
 Brood of the earth, the giants, did assay 
 Olympus' conquest 1 Can I, then, a poor. 
 Dejected man, be calm, when all the misery 
 The world can send it pours on me fully 1 
 -^olus, run thy vent'rous sword again 
 Into the rocks, and give an issue to 
 The winds, that they may with their ireful blasts 
 Kemove the world from oflf its stedfast hinge ! 
 Or blow the pole-stars out, and so let fall 
 This globe we breathe on ! Or, by whirhvinds' force, 
 
 * Not in first edition.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 59 
 
 Both sexes collect together, and carry them 
 
 Int' i^laces opposite, — the one into 
 
 The Arctic, the other the southern regions ; 
 
 And let them of themselves propagate the like : 
 
 So women's tyrannies could do no ill, 
 
 And men perform what one another will. 
 
 Fal. This savours franticly ! 
 
 Cle. Deprive him not of reason, but exalt 
 Him to himself, heavens ! Ah, me ! 
 
 Car. 'Tis true, the sea is always full of water, — 
 The lands do relieve it, — and yet has no cause 
 For lamentation ; but woeful man 
 Hath but a few, indeed a very few. 
 Salt tears to mollify the burthenous draught 
 Of misery which his malignant stars 
 Compel him to endure. 
 
 What ! his mistress' venom, obstinacy, not possible ? 
 'Tis insufferable — above our frail carriage. 
 
 Fal. The word friend weighs all titles of honour 
 down ; 
 And therefore not by them, but that, I beseech you 
 Not to neglect yourself I 've lately known 
 The time when death almost inevitable 
 Could not unfix your thoughts. This cause is weaker. 
 
 Car. Howl 
 
 Fal. Believe me, friend. 
 
 Car. Believe you % I would believe thee, friend. 
 Didst thou affirm absurdest contraries, — 
 That the sun was extinguished, and the bright 
 Moon was blown out, and all the stars were fall'n, 
 And nature, yet harmonious, disordered 
 Into another chaos — I would believe you ; 
 For, rather than you should pronounce a falsehood, 
 Things that are not Avould be. 
 
 Fal. Alas ! you are distempered. 
 I grieve to see you so for so poor a cause. 
 
 Car. It is a weighty one ; and if the brave, 
 Fam'd oft'spring of Alcmena had endur'd it, 
 He had enlarg'd his labours to thirteen, 
 And been another wonder to the world.
 
 GO THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 But, noblest friend, you know the history, — 
 How he the knotty chib did lay aside, 
 Put off the rough Nenisean skin, and donn'd 
 Maidens' apparel, for the love he bore 
 To ruin'd Picus' daughter, young lole. 
 
 Fal. But he ne'er oflPer'd violence to himself, 
 
 Cle. He did not, sir. Be counsell'd by your friend ; 
 Do, my good lord ! 
 
 Car. He had not cause ; she did return him love. 
 And, except in this case, I would suffer 
 Beyond expression from another hand 
 Without a thought to use mine own. But you 
 May say I'm passionate : 'tis right ; I am so : 
 I know 't, and you cannot expect less from me. 
 Were I as free from love as you have known me. 
 You should not tax me with that fault, although 
 Unstable fortune made an Irus of me. 
 But, you may call this boasting 1 
 
 Fal. Far be it from me ; 'tis a perfect truth. 
 
 Cle. Ah, alas ! 
 
 Car. Leave sighing, boy, prithee ! 
 
 Fal. Come ! 
 You shall be temperate again, my friend. 
 And have fair likelihood to obtain your lady. 
 
 Car. Impossible ! 
 
 Fal. I've formed the plot already ; you must be 
 
 Draw near. 
 
 Car. How ! — a negro — an Ethiopian ! — 'tis frivolous. 
 She is too obdurate — most obstinate. 
 
 Fal. Hath she not refused many of the bravest and 
 handsomest gentlemen of this kingdom 1 
 You cannot deny it ; be, therefore, counselled : 
 She that cannot love a man of a better complexion. 
 On one of them may settle her affection. 
 
 Car. I have some hope again. Boy, you shall stay 
 with my friend ; refuse it not, I prithee ! 
 For many conveniences it is necessary. I every 
 day shall see thee, and shortly Avill take thee 
 again. 
 
 Cle. My lord, I beseech you !
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 61 
 
 Car. Nay, my Anclethe, let me not use words. 
 As thou dost love me, deny me not. 
 
 Cle. Sir, I am charm'd, and will obey you, 
 Fal. Come ! let's walk, and I'll instruct you fully. 
 
 [Exeunt ornnes. 
 
 Scene ii. 
 
 JEnter Jaques, solus, drunk. 
 
 This London wine is a parlous liquor: 'twill turn 
 you a man's head so long round, that at last 'twill set 
 you it where his heels should be. Another glass on't 
 had prov'd me a reeler, a cotquean, which I was never 
 brought up too. I learnt a song of my old gran' am 
 — many a good ballad she would 'a sung me by the 
 fireside o'er a black pot, but your city wine is a more 
 stinging liquor. She left me a very fair cow, but a 
 \dllainous thief stole me her, foul cheeve him for it ! 
 and escap'd I know not whither. But all 's one; much 
 good do him with it — my ladies' worship service is 
 better than a team of oxen. But the song must not 
 be forgot. 
 
 I. 
 
 All that about me sit 
 Laugh at my pleasant wit. 
 And neither cough nor spit, 
 
 Till I have done — a. 
 For I will sing a song, 
 That fitly shall be long, 
 To a cow, and not wrong 
 
 Mount'"' Helicona. 
 
 II. 
 
 Don Quixote's Rosinant, 
 And Sancho's ass errant, 
 And Banks his horse do Avant 
 
 What she may brag of. 
 
 * " Clear."— ls< ed.
 
 G2 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 They would one's breech much gall, 
 And give one many a fall, 
 Sufficient therewithal 
 
 To break one's crag off. 
 
 III. 
 
 That Jove did love a steed, 
 I yet did never read ; 
 But by all 'tis agreed, 
 
 lo he loved. 
 Iso beast upon the field 
 Doth man more profit jdeld, 
 Whether alive or kill'd, 
 
 As may be proved. 
 
 Well, I'll to my chamber and sleep awhile ; other- 
 wise I'st ha' a foul deal of do to keep me on my legs 
 this afternoon. 
 
 Enter Lorece. 
 
 Jaques is now a very Barnaby ! 
 
 Lor. Jaques ! soho, my boy ! [Exit Jaqijes. 
 
 His match is extraordinary ; sure the rogue's dead, 
 he's so very deaf. 
 
 The report is, that Doctor Aristotle cast himself 
 into the sea because he could not, with all his ram- 
 bling plulosophy, find out the natural cause of ebb- 
 ing and flowing of it ; but had his good scholar- 
 ship been troubled with my mistress, he might ha' 
 jolted his brains out against a rock, for his dulness in 
 iuA'enting a method of wooing to win her ladyship 
 Anthal. I here will sit and muse. 
 
 [Sits in a private place. 
 
 Enter Vandona and Jaques. 
 
 Jaq. Indeed, madam, I Avill be very serviceable 
 unto you, if now and then you vrill suffer me to be 
 blythe and full of merry moods. 
 
 Van. Jaques ! where ha' you been ? 
 
 Jaq^. At the spigot. Is it not a very rainy, wet day 1
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 63 
 
 Fan. Thou art well washed within. 
 
 Jaq. 'Tis a very dark day. The sun shines very 
 clear, tho' ! 
 
 Fan. Th' ast a light head, Jaques. 
 
 Jaq. And yet I cannot bear 't steadfast on my 
 shoulders ; wine's monstrous strong ! 
 Let me see, who am 1 1 
 
 Fan. Th'art a fool. 
 
 Jaq. The play's the better for 't. 
 
 Fan. Y'are a drunken coxcomb ; go ! 
 
 Jaq. Thou captive Greek, I am a Beglerbeg ! 
 
 Fan. Thou wilt be a beggar, and thou leav'st not 
 thy drinking. 
 
 Jaq. Thou me Eoxalana ! am not I the great 
 Sultan 1 
 
 Fan. A booby ! 
 
 Jaq. You show your breeding, to upbraid the 
 majesty of the Grand Signor. 
 
 Fan. Peace ! no more fooling. 
 
 Jaq. You are drunk with north-country balder- 
 dash ; you keep no wine, water your kittens * with 
 beer. Nothing but wine shall be drank in my court. 
 
 Fan. I shall be troubled with him else. Ambassa- 
 dors wait your return at your palace. 
 
 Jaq. We will withdraw ! Send the bashaws after 
 me ; they shall present me wine. [Exit. 
 
 LoRECE discloseth liimself. 
 
 Fan. Is he here ? 
 I shall be courted, certainly, and perhaps shall yield. 
 
 Lor. Most welcome, happiest genius of my life ! 
 Dearest Yandona, let your lily hand 
 Enrich my lips ! 
 
 Fan. Y'are very complimental, servant. 
 
 L(yr. Mistress ! 'i faith, I love you, as for millions 
 of causes, 
 So also for a natural demeanour : 
 It shows me you are no offspring of the city. 
 
 Fan. You would marry none of them, servant ? 
 * "Kittlins."— ls«erf.
 
 64 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Lor. jSTo ; six tliousand pounds cannot hide a squint 
 eye, a crooked back, a red head, or a muddy lace, 
 though they may gikl them. 
 
 Van. This is very satirical ! [but there be beauties of 
 all-coloured hair, eyes, and complexions.] * 
 
 Lor. I at any time will carry you to a play, either 
 to the Black Friar's or Cockpit. And you shall go 
 to the Exchange when you will, and have as much 
 money as you please to lay out. You shall find me a 
 very loving husband, in troth, dear lady. 
 
 Van. But, servant, you have been a very debaucht 
 gentleman. 
 
 Lor. Forget what y'ave heard, and you shall hear 
 no more on't. But we are extravagant ; come ! let's 
 go to th' joiner. 
 
 Van. To whom, and for what, ]\Ir. Lorece 1 
 
 Lor. To Hymen, in his saffron coat, to be married. 
 
 Van. Some other time ; a month hence "s^oll serve. 
 
 Lor. Then must I count another bout. 
 
 Van. What you please, sir. 
 
 Lor. Cupid, the bowman ! 
 I am not thy foe, man ; 
 For I love this woman 
 As well as I know man. 
 And therefore I pray thee 
 From mischief to stay me, 
 And quickly to lay me 
 In bed with this lady. 
 
 Van. What call you this, sir ? 
 
 Lor. 'Tis my imploration and ode. 
 
 Van. Y'are very fluent, sir. 
 
 Xw. And yet neglected. But I'll make Cornelius 
 Gallus speak English, and he shall woo for me. 
 
 Van. What say you, servant 1 
 
 Lor. Be you attentive, and you shall hear. 
 My sweet Vandona, fine and comely lass, 
 Whose beauty milk and lilies doth surpass. 
 And the sweet roses, both the white and red, 
 Or Indian ivory new polished ; 
 
 * Not in first edition.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 65 
 
 spread ! spread abroad thy yellow hair, 
 
 Like glorious gold, shining out as fair ! 
 
 Thy purest alabaster neck, and show 's 
 
 Which from between thy graceful shoulders grows ! 
 
 Open thy starry eyes, and let us \dew 
 
 Their brows above them, of a sable hue ! 
 
 And both thy roseal cheeks let us espy, 
 
 Beautified with a natural Tyrian die ! 
 
 Put forth thy lips, their coral let us see, 
 
 And, dovelike, gentle kisses give to me ! [Kisses her. 
 
 Of amorous life thy breath did draw out part ; 
 
 Those kisses pierced me to the very heart. 
 
 AVhy didst thou suck my blood, cruel she 1 
 
 Henceforth thy dugs, like apples, hide from me, 
 
 AVhich with ambrosial cream shall swell thy breast, 
 
 Discloseth cinnamon ; I yield, and best 
 
 Delights arise from thee ! Yet thy paps cover, 
 
 Whose growth and beauty do make me a lover. 
 
 For seest thou not that languishing I lie 1 
 
 A man half dead, how canst thou thus destroy ? 
 
 Van. This is mere flattery. 
 
 Lor. 'Tis but a spark, madam ! an almost invisible 
 atom of truth, which can scarce be discern'd in the 
 sunshine of your perfections ! Credit me, madam ! 
 
 Fan. They are most childish that wall believe all 
 their servants say, my most poetical servant. 
 
 Lor. Most obdurate lady ! 
 
 Van. Will you wrangle 1 
 
 Lor. Was ever widow so hard to win ? Sure your 
 husband got not your maidenhead, you are so back- 
 ward. 
 
 Van. Adieu, sir. 
 
 Lor. Not yet, I pray you, sweetest lady, if 
 
 Van. Pray you, trouble me with no more speeches. 
 
 Lor. cruel reply to a lover's suit ! 
 If ever you have felt this passion's pain. 
 If ever you would pitied be yourself. 
 Or if you know that love hath power to kill, — 
 For all these, which you heretofore have been 
 Subject unto, commiserate a heart 
 
 E
 
 66 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 So full of love for you that it will break 
 
 If you deny. 
 
 But if you will remain inexorable, 
 
 And frown on liim who aye must fawn on you, 
 
 I Ansh my fortune may be yours, and that, 
 
 If ere you love, you may be served so. 
 
 Van. I'm but a woman, and these words would 
 move 
 A stupid rock to pity. Sir, I can 
 Resist no more ; your tongue has magic in 't. 
 You have o'ercome me ; and enjoy your conquest. 
 
 Loi: My dear Avidow, let me kiss thee for this ! Thy 
 date of wearing black is almost out. my joy ! me- 
 tliinks I could outsing old Homer, the nine Muses, 
 and put their patron Apollo out of fame ! 
 
 Enter Falorus, Cleanthe, and Phyginois in 
 hrave apparel. 
 
 My Vandona, yonder is my brother ! he will be joyful 
 to hear of my good fortune. 
 
 Fal. Who's he? 
 
 Cle. A friend of mine, my lord. 
 
 Fal. I shall be desirous, sir, both for your own and 
 for Anclethe's sake, to be better acquainted with you. 
 May I demand your name 1 
 
 Fhyg. Your servant is call'd Phyginois. 
 
 Fal. How have you sped, brother 1 
 
 Lor. She will be called your sister. Salute her ! go, 
 kiss her for 't. 
 
 Fal. Lady, I hope my brother will deserve you, 
 [By proving an affectionate husband to you.] * 
 
 Fhyg. Madam, I am a stranger, but will endeavour 
 to make myself known unto you by any service I can 
 do you. 
 
 Fan. Thank you, sir ! 
 
 Fhyg. My Nentis doth excel her sister. [Aside. 
 
 Lor. Come, brother ! will you go with us ] 
 
 Fal. I'll wait upon your mistress. 
 
 [Exeunt Falorus, Lorece, and Vando^'A. 
 
 * Not in first edition.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 67 
 
 Cle. My faithful friend, may all thy wishes prosper, 
 And a fair end cro^\^l them most happily. 
 
 Phyg. Sweetest of ladies ! 
 
 Cle. Thou didst prefer goodness before the raising 
 of thy house. 
 
 Phyg. It griev'd me to think so noble a lady should 
 be so poorly dispos'd of ; 
 My brother's birth nor fortune could deserve you. 
 
 Cle. I was ignorant, and might have undone my- 
 self 
 
 Phyg. But I did pity you. 
 
 Cle. And ever have obliged me to you for 't. 
 
 Phyg. If your sister's Avoman, Mistress Nentis, be 
 obstinate, and you prosper. 
 Hereafter you may do me a multitude of favours. 
 
 Cle. I ne'er will fail to do the best I can. Now, let 
 us follow them. 
 Love is a passion not to be withstood, 
 And, until hearts be mutual, never good. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene hi. 
 
 Enter Carionil, solus, like a negro, in strange apparel. 
 
 Car. A lover's life is like the various year. 
 Which hardly bears one form a fortnight's space. 
 He, sure, deserves respect, that to ol)tain 
 His mistress thinks all trouble a content. 
 These two years have not had as many quarters 
 As I disguises, — scarce as many days 
 As I devices, and yet to no purpose. 
 What I may do in this I cannot guess. 
 But for my own purpose must hope the best. 
 My late long residence i' th' Spanish court, when I lay 
 
 there lieger ambassador. 
 Hath made me speak the Castilian language per- 
 fectly ; 
 Which will be my great furtherance, because 
 Polidacre affects that tongue exceedingly,
 
 68 ' THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 And I know will gladly give me a free access 
 Unto his house at all times. 
 
 Estoy yo, como deve, muy lobrego ; 
 Porque de mi, Lucora haze uu negro. 
 
 Enter Polidacre, Lucora, and Nentis. 
 
 They shall not see me yet. 
 
 Liic. Sir, your daily importunacies have so moved 
 me, that I must yield unwillingly; only, I request to 
 have our marriage deferr'd a month. Dear sir, do not 
 deny me this ! 
 
 Pol. I thank thee, girl ! 
 
 Enter Falorus. 
 
 Welcome, Falorus ! My daughter's yours after four 
 weeks be past. 
 
 Fal. Worthy sir, y'are too bountiful. Most excel- 
 lent Lucora, you will make my fortune envied. I 
 must dissemble yet, for I will not wrong Carionil. 
 
 Nen. I like this well. 
 
 Ltic. But I will rather die than have him. [Aside. 
 
 Car. I do not doubt my friend. 
 
 Pol. I have laboured much for you. 
 
 Car. Now I'll disclose myself, and counterfeit the 
 negro as well as I can. 
 
 Araucana. 
 
 Y pues en todos tiempos, y occasiones 
 Por la causo commun sin cargo alguno, 
 En battalas formadas, y esquadi'ones 
 Puede usar delas annas cada uno : 
 Por las mismas legitimas razones 
 Es licito el combate de uno a uno, 
 A pie, a cavallo, armado, disarmado, 
 Ora se a campo abierto, ora estocado. 
 
 Don Carionil, would I could hear of thee ! 
 
 Liic. He is the brav'st propoi'tion'd African I ever 
 saw. [Aside.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 69 
 
 Pol. I will speak to liim. 
 Habla, vosfe, ijngles ? 
 
 Car. Yes, sir ! I learned your language at Bruxels. 
 
 Pol. I shall be most glad, sir, to be acquainted with 
 you. 
 
 Car. Grave Nelides' years be doubled, most honour- 
 able hero, upon you ! Your courtesy has won one of 
 the chiefest Ethiopian lords to become your servant. 
 
 Luc. What an unequall'd carriage he is of ! [Aside. 
 
 Car. You look, sir, like a noble gentleman. I 
 salute you ! 
 
 Fal. Well, Don Carionil, may'st thou prosper. Your 
 mistress has consented a month hence to marry me ; 
 l)ut doubt me not, my friend ! 
 
 Car. According to the Ethiopian custom, 
 Great lady, I adore your pantotie ! 
 
 Luc. You are a worthy and a noble Moor. 
 
 Car. This is your shadow ; you shall command me, 
 fair one. 
 
 Nen. Thank you, sir. 
 
 Pol. I heard you mention Carionil 1 
 
 Car. 'Tis true, I did so. 
 
 When we were in the Spanish court together, — 
 I being commanded thither an ambassador 
 From th' Emperor of both the Ethiopias 
 And of the mighty kingdoms and vast countries 
 Of Goa, Caffares, Fatigar, Angola, 
 Barne, Balignoza, Adea, Vagne, and Goyame,— 
 He wrong'd me ; and I am come hither to seek him. 
 And with my sword to punish his rude language. 
 If you will tell me, sir, where I may find him. 
 You shall eternally oblige me to you. 
 
 Pol. He is lately dead, sir. 
 
 Car. You do but jest ! 
 
 Fal. I was with him when he died. 
 
 Car. Then lie had not so honourable an end as was 
 intended him. 
 
 Pol. If I should not seem too inquisitive, I would 
 
 desire to know your quarrel. 
 Luc. I am much taken with this object. [Aside.
 
 70 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Car. You may command me anything. 
 We, meeting in the presence one afternoon, 
 'Mongst many things, did happen to discourse 
 Of ladies. He said that none of all the world 
 "Were so beautiful as the Spanish. 
 I, that had read in many histories 
 The English have the best and loveliest faces, 
 Did tell him so, yet could not change his mind. 
 After long altercations, he grew hot, 
 Gave me the lie reproachfully, which forced me to tell 
 him, that though I owed so much honour to both the 
 majesties of our great masters as not for private 
 wrongs to disturb our embassies, I meant, before I 
 died, to visit his country, and call him there unto a 
 strict account. 
 
 Pel. I thank you for your free relation. 
 While you intend to stay in England, use 
 My house at your pleasure ; I pray you, do. 
 Your company will be always welcome to me ; 
 And I love the Castilian language, which 
 You speak both readily and purely. 
 May I demand your name 1 
 
 Car. 'Tis Tucapelo, and I'm subject to 
 Great Prester John, whose powerful sceptre awes 
 Sixty-two kings ; and in Garama live. 
 Magnificent for silken palaces. 
 
 Fal. His behaviour is without suspicion. [Aside. 
 
 Pol. 'Tis dinner-time, or nigh; pray you be my 
 guest ! 
 You shall be very welcome, [sir, both now and at all 
 times.] * 
 
 Ca7: I'll wait upon you. 
 
 Pol. Falorus, let me entreat your stay ! 
 
 Fal. You shall command me. 
 
 [Exeunt Polidacre, Caeionil, and Falorus. 
 
 Liic. Injurious tyrant, love ! Nentis ! 
 
 Nen. Madam! 
 
 Laic. Stay a little. 
 
 How frail is any woman's resolution ! 
 * Not in first edition.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 71 
 
 I, that so seriously have often thought 
 
 Never to change my name, am now become 
 
 A slave unto a Moor ! I feel the mighty 
 
 Fabric of all my maiden virtue totter. 
 
 What can befal me worse 1 But I may as well 
 
 Withstand a volley of shot, and as easily, 
 
 As resist these new desires. 'Tis very strange 
 
 That I, who have denied the earnest suit 
 
 Of so complete a gentleman as was 
 
 Carionil, and neglected his friend, — 
 
 For I will rather steal away, and do 
 
 Mean services to my inferiors 
 
 Than be his wife, — should doat upon a person 
 
 Some ladies scarce dare look upon, — a Moor, 
 
 A sunburnt Moor I'm utter stranger to ! 
 
 What would my father say if he should know 
 
 My thoughts 1 Banish me ever from his sight. 
 
 And never more think of Lucora's name. 
 
 But love is not confin'd to the opinion 
 
 Of others. Oh, this is a revenge for my 
 
 Slighting of brave Carionil ; yet, if 
 
 He were alive again, I could not love him. 
 
 Alas, I am undone ! that my fates 
 
 Had been so kind as to have wrought my heart 
 
 Fit and propense to have requited him ! 
 
 Nentis, will you be silent of my love 1 
 
 Be so good, Nentis. 
 
 Nen. Why, madam, will you have this blackamoor? 
 Methinks my lord Falorus is a handsomer man by 
 much. Alas ! he will take you beyond the sea, 
 
 Luc. Nothing is strong enough to divert me. 
 
 Nen. Your secrets, madam, are as safe in my breast 
 as yours. 
 
 Luc. Befal what will, I am resolv'd. 
 Affection that doth tend 
 Not crookedly, but to a noble end. 
 Is worthy ; and they stubbornly repine 
 At their creation who from it decline. [Exeunt amice.
 
 72 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Act IV. — Scene i. 
 Enter Phylander and Antiphila. 
 
 Phyl. Sweetest Antiphila ! 
 
 Anti I wonder, sir, in what I have so forfeited my 
 faith 
 That I cannot be credited. 
 
 PhyJ. Urge me not, lady, unto a belief 
 That will be my destruction. 
 Delay me rather with a little hope, 
 And save me from despair. 
 
 Anti. I can but say what I have said already ; 
 You do not trust my tongue. Pray take a parchment, 
 And there inscribe a sad and solemn oath, 
 And I'll subscribe that I will never have you. 
 
 Phyl. The fatal raven's hoarse crying 
 Is Thracian music unto your reply. 
 Would I had heard a thousand mandrakes groan, 
 So you had left me in silence ! 
 
 Anti. I pity you ; but did you know me truly, you 
 Would bless my denial, young Phylander. 
 
 Phijl. Bless it ! lady. 
 Durst I but be so horribly profane 
 As to curse anything you please to do, 
 I would go study imprecations, and 
 Vent them in places that are haunted by 
 Wild walking devils ; but my grand affection 
 Condemns that violence.* Do not then suppose 
 That, though you Avere a Succubus, I durst 
 Utter such impious breath. Be all the faults, 
 That either truth or poets' fictions 
 Have strewn on| women, in you, I will love you 
 With serious admiration. 
 
 Anti. Sir, I will release your affection. 
 
 Phyl. Impossible ! 
 
 Not the fairest creature, by diligent search pick'd out 
 
 * This line, " But my gi-and affection," etc., not in first edition, 
 t " Shewn in. "—l6(ed.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 73 
 
 Of all the infinite myriads of beauties 
 Selected from the spacious kingdoms of 
 The earth, and I might choose her freely, 
 Should win upon my heart to dispossess you ; 
 She should not, lady. 
 
 Anti. You will not hear me ! 
 
 Phyl. Then may eternal deafness seize upon me ! 
 Speak, lady ; and though you do say the last 
 Word I shall ever hear, I will with joy 
 Be most attentive : the dark cave of sleep 
 Is not more quiet. 
 
 Anil. I am contracted. 
 
 Phyl. You are not, lady ! 
 
 A7iti. I am, sir. 
 
 PhijI. Unto my father 1 
 
 Anti. No. 
 
 Phyl. Then sentence his sure death by naming him. 
 
 Anti. Will you destroy the man I love 1 
 
 Phyl. And you him that loves you 1 
 
 Anii. What is done cannot be undone. 
 
 Phyl. It shall ! 
 
 Anti. You must not know his name therefore. 
 
 Phyl. If there be any manhood in his l)reast, 
 He shall disclose himself. I'll challenge him 
 By such sure circumstances, and set the papers 
 On public places by the play-bills, that if 
 He dares but use a sword he will be known. 
 
 Anti. So you will publish my disgrace. 
 
 Phyl. Too true. lady, dear Antiphila, 
 Give me his name ! I Avill not kill him foully ; 
 We will meet fairly. I may die upon 
 His sword, and you thereby be freed from my 
 Unworthy suit. 
 
 Anti. Sir, promise me one thing, and I will tell you. 
 
 Phyl. Here is my hand ; you shall charm me ! 
 
 Anti. I must lie, and grossly, to be rid of his court- 
 ship. [Aside. 
 It is Tandorix. You must not speak of it to any, 
 Or quaiTel about it. 
 
 Phyl. 'Tis not ! you mock me, sweet Antii^liila.
 
 < i THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 ylnii. Indeed, Phylander, I do not. 
 You will be secret for my sake, until 
 I do release you from your promise. 
 
 Phyl. Y'ave had my hand ; silence must be my death. 
 
 Anti. I'll leave you, sir, and build upon your word, 
 For I perceive you are displeas'd. [Exit Antiphila. 
 
 Phyl This 'tis to be a fool, which is the truest 
 And briefest definition of a lover. 
 What fury fascinated so my senses 
 As wilfully to make me become a slave 
 Unto the childish passions of a woman t 
 On this occasion would I understood 
 The saddest epithets of necromancy. 
 That I might join them to this sex. my heart ! 
 I am o'ercome with rage, and will be rather 
 A perjur'd Mahommedan, and Avade 
 Through streams of blood into her arms, than a 
 Soft-conscienc'd ass and let this villain have her. 
 Could envious hell suppose a body of 
 So delicate a composition could 
 Within it lodge a mind so poor and worthless ] 
 This is a woman's weakness ; no, 'tis a baseness 
 Cannot be match'd in all the faults of man. 
 But why am I so angry 1 I will show 
 My fury not in idle breath, but deeds ; 
 
 Enter Rosinda. 
 
 And this shall be the time. Thou base ambitious 
 Slave, before we part thou diest ! 
 
 Eos. good sir, why 1 I ne'er offended you. 
 Heaven knows I love you best of all the world. 
 
 Fhyl Thou art the hinderance of all the bliss 
 I could expect or wish for upon earth. 
 
 Eos. Sir, let me hear the reason of your rage, 
 And, if you find that I have injur'd you, 
 I will not beg for life. 
 
 Ehyl. Find it ! I know it clearly, 
 
 And will not honour thee, vile man, so much 
 As t' let my tongue join such unequal names. 
 
 Eos. I understand you not. Dear sir, be plain !
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 75 
 
 Phyl Art thou prepcar'd to die % If not, kneel here, 
 And pray thyself into a readiness. 
 
 Eos. Be not so violent ! 
 
 Phyl. Eepent ! 
 
 Eos. Let me understand my offence. The chrisom 
 child * 
 Is not more innocent of wrongs to you 
 Than guiltless I. 
 
 Phyl. The tears of crocodiles ! 
 
 Eos. I humbly do upon my knees implore you 
 That you thus rashly Avill not take away 
 The life you never can restore, and will 
 Bewail for in an over-late repentance. 
 
 Phyl. To heaven, and not to me, make orisons. 
 I am resolved. 
 
 Eos. For your deceased mother's sake, at whose 
 Sad funeral letter I was entertain'd 
 Into your father's family, and for 
 Tliose tears and sighs and sorrows she did weep, 
 Groan, and express at her delivery of you. 
 Be merciful unto a faultless stranger. 
 
 Phyl. A tedious and an exquisite torture for 
 Thy death should not deter me from it. My mother, 
 Could she arise out of her wat'ry grave. 
 Appear in both our \'iews, and be an eloquent 
 Suppliant unto me for thy life, should not 
 Prevail to win me to it. 
 
 Eos. Then nothing will satisfy. Keep in your sword ; 
 I am your mother. Draw off this periwig. 
 And my face will establish your belief 
 
 Phyl. It does indeed. Here, prostrate on my knees. 
 For my rude language I do crave remission. 
 
 Eos. And you obtain it, and my blessing too ; 
 But you deserve blame for your violent fury. 
 
 Phyl. let me kiss your gracious hand, and seal 
 My pardon on your happy lips ! 
 Why did you grieve us for the sad report 
 Of your untimely end ] 
 
 Eos. You shall know all anon. But yet conceal 
 * See Davenant's Works in this series, vol. i. p. 79.
 
 76 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 My being, till your father's love be ripe, 
 And grown mature for a second marriage ; 
 I pray you, do. 
 
 Phyl Mother, I will. 
 
 Now I've good hope Aiitiphila will be mine. \Exeunt. 
 
 Scene ii. 
 Enter Carionil, Lucora, aiid Nentis. 
 
 Car. And, my lady, you shall not wish anything, 
 If that an human power can obtain it, 
 But I will make it yours. I hope you do 
 Not wrong my love with a suspicion 
 That I cannot perform whate'er I promise ? 
 
 Luc. I do not, sir, distrust your affection ; 
 But give me leave to doul>t I shall not live 
 According to my content in ^tliiojiia. 
 
 Car. Most noble lady, I, that have seen both places, 
 Dare promise you you will. 
 
 Luc. I cannot tell, sir ; I must believe you. 
 
 Car. For these few words, whose sweetness doth 
 exceed 
 Vast and elaborate volumes of eloquence, 
 May all the joys that ever have made happy 
 The numerous Queens and Empresses that have 
 Been ornaments and glories to the world, 
 Meet unto their perfection in you. 
 
 Luc. My Tucapelo ! when I did see you first, 
 I fell in love as deep as lady could. 
 
 Car. And may I die when, in imperfect thoughts, 
 You do repent your choice. Mistress, I can 
 Make famous Gamara* as pleasing to you 
 As is your native country. You shall find 
 Delights above not equal to your mind. 
 
 Luc. Sir, your company shall be all things unto me. 
 
 * Qy. "Amliara?" — "Besides Auxma, there are no cities in 
 Habessinia, and but few towns. They have neither castles nor 
 forts. The celebrated mountains of Anihara are their onely 
 citadels, where the King's children were formerly committed to 
 custody. — Ludolphus' New History of Ethiopia. Lond. 1682, folio.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 77 
 
 Car. You shall not touch one drop of water but shall 
 Be of more virtue than the Thespian spring, 
 Where reverent poets of the former times 
 Quaff 'd off huge bowls to great Apollo's health. 
 Young virgins, whose sweet voices do exceed 
 Mnemosyne's daughters, shall sing you asleep 
 Each night ; and, when you grace the happy woods 
 With your rich presence, they shall make a concert 
 With the innocuous choristers of the spring. 
 To entertain the mistress of my life. 
 
 Nen. And I go thither, they shall teach me to sing. 
 
 [Aside. 
 Car. The jewel-tippets of your ears shall weigh 
 The curious points of precious icicles, 
 When Leo breathes hot vapours on the earth. 
 Your sedulous slaves, enrich'd by noble blood, 
 Shall bear your litter through the tedious streets 
 Of Gamara ; while all the gallant youth 
 Within it runs to Avonder at your beauty ! 
 
 Luc. I do believe you love me so much, sir. 
 That you will show it all the ways you can ; 
 And I do thank you for it, and love you, 
 And I will show it all the ways I can. 
 
 Car. happiest speech my ears did ever hear ! 
 Amphion's music made not such a sound ; 
 Nor Orpheus' lute, that tam'd the stuliborn spleen 
 Of Hell's inhuman dog, when he did play 
 For the redemption of his ravish'd spouse ; 
 Nor Phoebus, when unto his gold-strung lyre 
 He for superiority did sing 
 His sweetest anthems and best madrigals 
 Against ambitious Pan, made harmony 
 To parallel the sweetness of your tongue. 
 
 Luc. If that all my endeavours can deserve 
 At this height your affection, by my fault 
 It never shall decrease. 
 
 Car. You over-act me much, but never shall 
 Have thoughts beyond me ! 
 
 Luc. I pray you spare my company a while ; 
 A while I would be private with my woman.
 
 78 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Car. Lady, I will do things unwillingly 
 At your command ; but give me license, fairest, 
 To jDi-int my heart upon your heavenly lips 
 Ere my departure \iQixcQ.— [Kisses 7ie?-.]— The Ottoman 
 
 Emjjerors, 
 In their immense seraglio never saw 
 Your matchless features in their numberless 
 Successive multitudes. I am so blest, 
 That my excessive joys cannot be guess'd. 
 
 Luc. Nentis ! [Exit Carionil. 
 
 Nen. Madam. 
 
 Ialc. Unfold thy heart unto me. Let me know 
 What thoughts tliou hast of me. 
 
 Nen. I may offend. 
 
 Luc. Indeed thou shalt not ! 
 
 Nen. Then I do wonder, madam, that you will 
 Bestow yourself, I tliink, unworthily. 
 
 Luc. How ? 
 
 Nen. This is unpleasing to you ; I will be 
 Hereafter silent. I have offended you. 
 
 Luc. 1^0 • proceed ! 
 
 Nen. You are a lady until now unstaiu'd 
 With any blot, save obstinacy to 
 The brave deceas'd Carionil, and will you 
 Give the world reason, a good one, — pardon 
 My honest boldness, madam, — to tax your judgment. 
 And, which is Avorse, your virtue, for this choice 1 
 Is not Falorus far more worthy of you ? 
 Marry him, madam, and live still in England. 
 I'm sure my counsel would be seconded 
 By all the friends you have, did they but know 
 As much as I. But, madam, if ycm have 
 Settled your affection past recall, and are 
 Besolved, I Avill be most obedient 
 And secret unto all your purposes. 
 
 Luc. And wilt thou go to Ethiopia with me 1 
 
 Nen. If I do get no servant before, and if 
 You will, if I dislike the country, give 
 Me liberty to return home. 
 
 Luc. Most willingly.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 79 
 
 Enter Falorus, Cleanthe, and Phyginois. 
 
 Nen. My Lord Falorus ! 
 
 Luc. "Where 1 
 
 Phyg. If I can find the least opportunity, 
 I will try, Xentis, of what metal th' art made. 
 
 Fed. I hope, mistress, our company 
 Is not unwelcome to you. 
 
 Luc. By no means, sir. 
 
 Fal. How gently it pass'tl her tongue ! 
 For that sweet word I kiss your hand, dear lady. 
 
 Luc. Where did you leave my father, my lord 1 
 
 Fal. Above, a-reading Guicciardin. 
 
 Nen. Sir, I can perceive when I am flatter'd. 
 
 Phyg. Earnest expressions of love deserve a iDetter 
 name. 
 
 Nen. Why, sir,, I cannot believe you love me. 
 
 Phyg. You need not doubt of that, mistress ; I do 
 With as much fervency as servant can. 
 I do beseech you, lady, to believe me. 
 
 Nen. They are of easy faiths that believe all their 
 servants say.* 
 
 Luc. What ail you, my lord ? you are not well. 
 
 Fal. Unwelcome guest, away ! I was thinking of 
 
 Luc. OfAvhat? 
 
 Fal. I ha' forgot. Would they would all love me ! 
 
 [Aside. 
 I am most strangely alter'd on the sudden ; 
 My friendship, I fear, will be too weak a tie 
 To make me silent. 
 
 Cle. IMy lord ! 
 
 Fal. Thou hadst a master did deserve thee better. 
 
 Cle. But he is dead, and I am yours by his 
 Last legacy. 
 
 Fal. ^^^lat would'st thou say ] [Aside. 
 
 Cle. I hope you're well ! 
 
 Fal. He has found out an alteration in me ; 
 
 [Privately. 
 I must beware of public signs. I was 
 
 * This line not in first edition.
 
 80 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Full of Carionil ; my thoughts were busy 
 Concernmg him. 
 
 Madam, I pray you pardon my neglect 
 Of frequent visits ; I have been too guilty. 
 
 Luc. You have not offended. 
 
 Fal. 'Tis your great goodness to say so. 
 
 Nen. This, sir, is too importunate. 
 
 Phjg. Too slack, dear mistress; but wink at my 
 insufficiency. 
 
 Nen. You said you love no woman in the world 
 But me. 
 
 Phijg. And may you hate me if I do. 
 
 Nen. As I see you ready to give me full satisfaction 
 that you mean faithfully, so shall you find me willing 
 to requite you. 
 
 Plujg. No man can boast such happiness. 
 
 Nen. Sir, be moderate. You're not so sure of me 
 but, upon occasion, I can retire ; neither would I have 
 the company take notice of us. 
 
 Phyg. You shall command me, mistress. 
 
 Fal. These passions are new to me ; would I were 
 private ! 
 I never did observe her so well before. 
 
 Ltic. My lord ! 
 
 Fal. What say you, madam 1 
 
 Luc. You saw not my brother, Phylander, to-day ] 
 
 Fal. No, truly, lady, I did not ! 
 
 Lac. Your brother, Nentis says, shall shortly be 
 married to 
 The rich widow, her sister. 
 
 Fal. So he doth hope. 
 
 Enter Tandorix. 
 
 Bos. Madam, dinner stays of you ! 
 Luc. You hear, my lord ! 
 
 Fal. Nay, Anclethe, stay not for me ; wait on the 
 lady. 
 I'll follow immediately. 
 
 [Exeunt Lucora, Nentis, Phyginois, and 
 Cleanthe,
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 81 
 
 "What ails me 1 Let me see ! 
 
 What is the cause of such an alteration 
 
 I find within me 1 Doubtless it is love. 
 
 To Avhom 1 to Avhom hut to the worthiest 
 
 And sweet Lucora 1 Take heed, 'tis dangerous ! 
 
 A sudden ruin so Avill seize my friendship, 
 
 And prove my former protestations 
 
 Feign'd untruths. Cannot the noble name 
 
 Of young Carionil prevent me '? No ; 
 
 Nor certainty of all the evil wills 
 
 Of all the friends I have. 
 
 Were both our better genius orators, 
 
 And here embraced fast my knees, and wept 
 
 Miraculous tears to quench the rising flames 
 
 Lucora's irresistible eyes have kindled 
 
 In me, or to drown this late impression love 
 
 Hath sealed upon my heart, I'd be as remorseless 
 
 As the most stern and unremoved Scythian, 
 
 And deafer than the people that inhabit 
 
 Near the Egyptian cataracts of Nile. 
 
 But I am base, base to infringe the knot 
 
 Of amity a long and serious knowledge 
 
 Of each other hath tied betwixt us. 'T^vere safer 
 
 Sailing with drunken mariners between 
 
 Hard Scylla and Charybdis, than to sufter 
 
 My mucii divided thoughts, and forth of them 
 
 To work such a conclusion to my passions 
 
 As might hereafter confirm me noble in 
 
 The opinion of the world. But I'm most ignorant, 
 
 And know not what to do. Would I were so 
 
 Distraught that my own self I could not know ! 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Scene hi. 
 
 Enter Lorece and Vandona. 
 
 Lor. Sweet mistress ! your bounty will become 
 An envy unto future times. 
 Van. So let your love, sir. 
 
 F
 
 82 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Lor. But speak, my dear ; what happy day shall give 
 A fair conclusion unto all my wishes ? 
 Van. What haste, good servant ? 
 
 Enter Jaques. 
 
 L(yr. Nay, be not angry, sweet ! 
 
 Jaq. Madam, and please you, your own good servants 
 desire to show your worships some pretty pastime. 
 
 Van. It pleases us well ; when begins it 1 
 
 Jaq. E'en presently. I'll go and tell them all what 
 a woman you are. [Exit Jaques. 
 
 Lor. This is not usual with you. 
 
 Van. Indeed, servant, so seldom, that I remember 
 not the like. 
 Sure 'tis for your entertainment. They think I have 
 Been a niggard of it, and help'd to make it out. 
 
 Lor. You are too good ! 
 
 Van. So you can never be. 
 
 Lor. And yet I will not fail to do my best. 
 
 Van. I pray you do not, dear Lorece, for 'tis a good 
 resolution. 
 
 Enter Clownish Maskers. 
 
 Loi\ I see we shall have some odd thing. 
 
 Van. I wish, sir, it may prove worthy your laughter. 
 
 Lor. My fair Vandona, I believe you will have your 
 desire. 
 
 Van. Jaques is among them ; he may move you. 
 
 Jaq. An' either of you ask what's here, 'tis a mask, 
 Which we actors do hope will content you ; 
 If not, when it ends let us all part friends, 
 And of your attention go in and repent you. 
 I hope your worships will say I have pronounc'd this 
 well enough 1 
 
 Lor. To my content, honest Jaques. 
 
 Van. I'm glad you like it. 
 
 Jaq. Come, Hymen, thou fellow that always wear'st 
 yellow, 
 Draw near in thy frock of saffron ; 
 Once more, I say, appear before this gentleman here,
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 83 
 
 Aiid this lady in the white apron. 
 
 If the boy thou dost bring has a voice fit to sing, 
 
 Let's have a merry new ballet. 
 
 Begin thou the song, and it will not be long. 
 
 We hope, before he will follow 't. 
 
 A Song. 
 
 Hymen. Say, boy, who are fit to be 
 Join'd into a unity 1 
 Boy. They that will permit their wives 
 To live pleasant quiet lives. 
 And will never entertain 
 Thoughts of jealousy, if vain. 
 Hym. Now, boy, let this couple hear 
 
 What should be the woman's care 1 
 Boy. A wife should be secret, true, 
 Most obedient, and no shrew ; 
 Should obey her husband's will, 
 While therein she finds no ill. 
 Omnes. Such a wife, and husband too. 
 We do wish both him and you. 
 Lor. Prithee, sweet, let's be married this afternoon, 
 
 and this shall be our epithalamion. 
 Van. Stay my leisure, good servant ; 't will not be 
 
 long. 
 Jaq. Now, if you please to cast a glance hither, ye 
 shall see us dance. 
 Fiddlers, play, begin and strike ; what ye see do not 
 dislike. {They dance. 
 
 Lor. What a mad toy 'tis, mistress ! 
 Van. Jaques ! this day use my wine cellar; you and 
 your company 
 May be as free in it as you will. 
 
 Hym. Her ladyship says well ! Good now; ho! let's 
 go thither 
 Without more ado. 
 
 Jaq. Uoodman Wedlock, where was your mind, 
 mar'le 1 * Is there not a piece behind yet 1 I'll not 
 budge a foot till I have discharg'd it. 
 
 * I marvel.
 
 84 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Hym. Out with it, then ! 
 
 Jaq. 'My. Marriage, put me not out with your grin- 
 ning ; for an' you do, all's spoil'd. 
 
 Gentleman and madam, you have seen 
 What our mask and performance hath been. 
 If you like both, 'tis well ; and if but one, 
 Of the other would we had done none. 
 For clapping your hands we care not two chips, 
 We are satisfied if you join your lips. 
 Lor. I thank you all. 
 Van. And so do I. You now may go. 
 Jaq. And so we must, for I ha' done. All's done ; 
 this last what-do-you-call was the full end of it. 
 Hym. Why go we not ] 
 
 Boy. I am very dry with singing and dancing. 
 Jaq. Follow me to the wine cellar ! 
 
 [Exeunt Maskees. 
 Van. You must keep your promise ; you are ex- 
 pected by this. 
 Lor. Lady, I kiss your hand : this is my I'ale. As 
 often as I come 
 I'll seal my welcome on your lips. Farewell, widow ! 
 Van. Remember my service to your brother. 
 Lor. Command me anything. [Exeunt amho. 
 
 Scene iv. 
 
 Enter Carionil, solus. 
 
 Car. The tedious winter of my many griefs 
 Her calmer heavenly breath hath now blown over, 
 And all my tears and sighs are now converted 
 Into a happiness will soon be perfect. 
 The gallant courtier, Paris Alexander, 
 When he had stole the young Atrides' bride, 
 The sister of the two Tindarides, 
 And with great triumphs entered into Troy, 
 Was sad and melancholy unto me. 
 How wise the fates are ! Ere we can obtain
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 85 
 
 Perfect fruition of the thing we love, 
 We must break through great difficulties and tedious, 
 Unto the end that we may more esteem 
 And prize our happiness when we achieve it. 
 Thanks, excellent lady ! for your gracious promise ; 
 May every lover henceforth bless your tongue. 
 She hath prefix'd this hour to be the time 
 Wherein I shall outgrow all hope, and fix 
 Upon the proudest height of fortune's wheel. 
 Hail, happy hour ! This is her chamber window, 
 And tliis the door whereby she must escape. 
 
 Enter Lucora and Nentis, above. 
 
 Shine well, ye stars ! and let this project find 
 Your influences to a lover kind. 
 
 Neil. See, madam, he is come ! my lord Tucapelo 
 has not trespass'd on a minute. 
 
 L^ic. Then is our parting near ; your new servant 
 hath prevented your journey. 
 
 Car. Nentis ! 
 
 Luc. Most honoured Tucapelo, I am here 
 In presence, to give answer to my love. 
 
 Car. Are you ready, worthiest lady % 
 
 Luc. I am, my love ! 
 
 Car. Neglect your jewels; Gamara shall supply 
 you. 
 
 Luc. I care for nothing if I have but you. 
 
 Car. Descend, my dear ! each minute is an age 
 Until I crown my joys with your possession. 
 
 Luc. I come ! Nentis, farewell ! Report that my 
 Escape was unto thee unknown, and that 
 I stole away when thou wast fast asleep ; 
 I would not have thee blam'd for me. Excuse 
 Me to my father all the ways I have 
 Instructed tliee in. [Descendunf. 
 
 Car. Cynthia, triumph ! and let thy brother hear 
 His eyes did never witness such a stealth ; 
 Be proud in tliy pale lustre, and make knoAvn 
 Apollo doth tell tales, but thou tell'st none. 
 Not yet ? How tedious seems a moment !
 
 86 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Delays in love 
 
 Would raise impatience in Olympic Jove. 
 
 Enter LUCORA and Nentis. 
 
 But she is entered ! Welcome, sweet Lucora ! 
 Above expression welcome ! My crown of joy 
 I would not change for an imperial sceptre. 
 
 iwc. I am most happy in your love, dear friend. 
 Thanks, good Nentis ! My woman cannot go 
 with 's. 
 
 Car. Then farewell, Nentis ! 
 
 Nen. May the propitious heavens 
 Crown both your heads with all fair fortune. 
 
 Car. Our thanks go with you ! [Exit Nentis. 
 
 Luc. It is your promise, sir, that I shall Hve 
 Without contradiction in my religion, — 
 Enjoy my conscience freely : Your vow was solemn. 
 
 Car. I do acknowledge it, and will perform it 
 True. Not to be denied? what a great frost chills 
 my affection ! 
 
 Luc. Then I'll be confident. 
 
 Car. You may ! 
 
 I am amaz'd and lost within a wonder. 
 Let me consider ; have I cause to love 
 A lady that hath so much neglected me 
 That she hath preferr'd a negro 1 and, 'tis likely, 
 When she knows me, Avill care as little for me 
 As e'er she did, and, if she meets with one 
 Of this complexion I feign, confer 
 Her perfect love upon the slave % 'Tis clear 
 I have no reason' to do it ; neither will I, 
 For I am free, know liberty again : 
 This poor unworthiness in her hath loos'd me. 
 Would it not be a weakness in me — let me argue it — 
 To bestow myself upon a woman of 
 So obstinate a nature, that she lov'd me less 
 When she believ'd that for her sake I had 
 Done violence upon myself "? It would be 
 A matchless one, beyond example, and which 
 Future times would admire but not parallel !
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY, 87 
 
 Luc. Come, shall we hence 1 Delay is dangerous. 
 
 Car. ISTo ! be it what it will. 
 
 Luc. We must not stay here long. 
 
 Car. Nor will we. 
 
 Imc. Alas! what ails my noble Tuca- 
 
 pelo ? 
 You had not wont to answer me so slightly. 
 Do you not love me still 1 
 
 Car. No ! 
 
 Imc. The heavens forbid ! I am Lucora ! 
 
 Car. I do confess you are, but must deny 
 I love you. 
 
 Luc. I could endure your sword with better ease. 
 Use 't, and revenge what ignorant ill I have 
 Committed against you. I had rather die 
 By your dear hand than to return from hence 
 With this strong poison in my breast. 
 
 Car. Kill you ? 
 Lady, I would not do it to obtain 
 The sovereignty of the sea-parted earth. 
 Live many years in happiness ; I wish it 
 With all my soul, else may I die unwept for. 
 But give me leave to leave you, and bestow 
 Laughter, not tears, for my inconstancy. 
 Think me unworthy of your worthy self, 
 For I cannot love you, nor will marry you. 
 
 Iaic. Surely you w411 ! Have you a cause to be 
 So merciless unto a passionate lady, 
 One that so truly wonders at your worths ? 
 I pray you, sir, jest not so solemnly ; 
 Thunder is music in my ears to this. 
 
 Car. I do not ! Credit me, most fair Lucora, 
 I am in earnest, nor would I spend the time 
 In words. Shall I call Nentis 1 
 
 Luc. Ratlu^r call basilisks to look me dead, ^ 
 Than her to help me mourn your unkind parting ! 
 O do not tluis ! Avherein am I deform'd 
 So suddenly, that you so soon should leave me 1 
 
 Car. This is a trouble to yourself; you cannot 
 Speak words enough to make me yours.
 
 88 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 i«c. C<an I not speak sufficiently 1 Then I 
 Will try if there be magic in my knees. 
 Look, sir, a lady kneels to you for love, [_She kneels. 
 To "whom the noblest in the realm have sued. 
 
 Car. All is in vain. 
 
 Luc. Thou man, that art more lasting in thy fury 
 Than the Egyptian wonder through the storms 
 Of many bleak tempestuous winters ; 
 Say, worthless man, if it becomes thee well 
 To let a loving lady kneel to thee, 
 And thou be merciless and not raise her up ] 
 
 Car. I pray you, rise ! 
 
 Luc. And will you then be reconcil'd unto me ? 
 
 Car. No, I cannot. 
 
 Luc. Then will I turn a statue. 
 
 Car. I pray you leave me, and forget me ever ; 
 Henceforth you shall not see me any more ! 
 
 Liic. Not see you any more 1 
 O faithless man, and full of perjuries ! 
 Thy nature is transparent ; thou art false 
 As is the smooth-fac'd sea, which every wind 
 Disturbs, — a false barbarian, and born under 
 Deceitful Mercury. A Briton would 
 Rather have died than thus have wronged me. 
 Thou art inhuman, and may'st boast thy conquest, 
 Tell your most savage countryman this act, — 
 If the just god of seas revenge me not, — 
 And number it 'mongst your proud cruelties. 
 
 Car. Be pacified ! I i^ray you leave this rage. 
 
 iwc. AVhen I am dead I shall, and not before ; 
 And that shall not be long, for thou shalt see me. 
 Merciless man, thou shalt, and add that to 
 Thy l)loody conquests, boast how a slighted lady 
 For thy unkindness made herself away. 
 This hand, wherewith I would have given myself 
 To thee, shall take me from my misery. 
 
 [Offers to kill herself. 
 
 Car. Hold ! I am Carionil ! 
 
 Luc. How ! say that again ! 
 
 Car. I am Carionil !
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 89 
 
 Luc. That breath hath rais'd me and 
 
 made me myself. 
 
 Car. I counterfeited the negro to obtain you, 
 The Avished period of my griefs ; and might, 
 But will not love that Avoman that shall scorn 
 All my endeavours, and entertain a stranger, 
 An Ethiopian, and prefer him — no. 
 Judge, foir Lucora, if I have not cause. 
 
 Luc. Yes, yes, you have ; but now you do not need 
 More of your rhetoric to dissuade me from you. 
 There are not in the world temptations 
 Can make me yours. I cannot give a reason ; 
 'Tis in my nature, and a secret one. 
 
 Car. I am glad it is so. 
 
 Luc. This is the happiest hour 
 
 My life did ever pass, and quickly chang'd. 
 
 Car. I rejoice at the alteration. Madam, you shall 
 Command me to do anything but marry you. 
 
 Luc. Then I command you never move me more. 
 
 Car. I will obey you. 
 
 Luc. Now you may call Nentis. 
 
 She is not yet in bed ; I see a light yet. 
 
 Car. Most willingly. Nentis ! 
 
 Enter Nentis, above. 
 
 Nen. What's the matter, marie ] * 
 
 Luc. Come down ! 
 
 Nen. I wonder much. I come, madam ! [Descendit. 
 
 Luc. You Avill be secret, sir, of what hath past ] 
 
 Car. You may be confident I will. 
 
 Lac. I else shall suffer much in my honour. 
 Women ! take heed ; the men whom you deny 
 May win you to be theirs by policy. 
 They Proteusdike will vary shapes, until 
 Beyond their wishes they have plac'd their will. 
 
 Enter Nentis. 
 
 Car. Your woman's come ; good night ! 
 Luc. Good night, sir ! [Exit Carionil. 
 
 * Besides " I marvel," this word also signifies " a gossip."
 
 90 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Nentis, I now will never pass the seas ; 
 Tucapelo is become Carionil. 
 
 Nen. Amazement seizetli me ! 
 
 Ltic. Anon thou shalt know all. 
 
 Nen. I hope that now you vnW be ruled by your 
 friends, and take the lord Falorus to your husband. 
 
 Luc. Hang husbands ! 
 
 Nen. The gods bless them all, I say, 
 
 and send me a good one. 
 
 Luc. Let's to bed ! lock the door after you. 
 
 [Exeunt amho. 
 
 Scene v. 
 
 Enter Clean the, sola. 
 
 Cle. How joyfully the birds salute the morn. 
 Warbling a welcome from their gentle throats ! 
 But I am of another mind, poor maid ! 
 Aurora doth no sooner blush upon 
 The world, but I make my complaints afresh. 
 I am in love, and for my wretched state 
 Can blame nobody, but sinister fate. 
 
 Enter Carionil. 
 
 Car. Well met, Anclethe ! I will hide no longer 
 Myself in this disguise. Again thou shalt 
 Be my Anclethe. Wilt thou be my boy. 
 And sing me songs as thou hadst wont to do ? 
 
 Cle. You have obtain'd your mistress, I see, my 
 lord? 
 
 Car. I have not, boy, nor will I seek her more ; 
 Some other time thou shalt receive the story. 
 
 Cle. My hour is come ; dear Cupid be my aid ! 
 And will you never have another, sir ? 
 
 Car. I do not know, Anclethe ; but if I have, 
 She must not be so obstinate as this.'"' 
 
 Cle. But say a lady of a noble house — 
 
 * " so obstinate as this. 
 
 I soon should leave her if I found her such." — 1st ed.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 91 
 
 One that is not unhandsome — were in love 
 With you, did love you violently, my lord, 
 Would you not pity her, but be unkind ] 
 
 Car. Boy, I do knoAv what 'tis to love in vain 
 So well, and what a misery is in it. 
 That if she were but reasonably well, 
 She should not grieve for me ; indeed she should not. 
 
 Cle. You are most noble ! old philosophy 
 Never defin'd a virtue which you want. 
 There is a lady, sir, and not ill-favour' d, 
 Born of an ancient honoured family. 
 So much in love with you, that if you do 
 Eefuse her, my lord, you do deny her life. 
 
 Car. What is she called, Anclethe 1 
 
 Cle. My lord, my commission doth not reach so far; 
 She'd have her name conceal'd until y'ave seen her. 
 To-morrow morning you may meet her here. 
 She with a gentleman, a friend of hers, 
 Will here expect you about ten o'clock. 
 
 Car. Well, I will see her, boy ! and if I find 
 Her answer thy report, I will be kind. 
 He that neglects a loving lady for 
 Weak causes, may the gods that man abhor ! 
 
 [Exeunt amho. 
 
 Act v. — Scene i. 
 
 A Banquet set forth ; then enter Polidacre, Anti- 
 PHiLA, Servants, and Musicians. 
 
 Pol. You will pardon a sudden entertainment 1 
 
 Ant. I hope we need not compliment. 
 
 Fol. Do you instruct me. 
 Sit down, my sweet Antiphila, and taste. Fill wine ! 
 All healtli and ha])piness to you, dear mistress ! 
 
 Ant. A true return of loyal thanks. 
 
 Pol. Play a more merry tune ! I do abhor
 
 92 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Whatever relisheth of melancholy. 
 
 Sing " The spheres are dull ; " 
 
 Apply it to yourself that best deserve it. 
 
 The spheres are dull, and do not make 
 Such music as my ears will take ; 
 The slighted birds may cease to sing, 
 Their chirpings do not grace the spring ; 
 The nightingale is sad in vain, 
 I care not to hear her complain ; 
 While I have ears and you a tongue, 
 I shall think all things else go wrong. 
 
 The poets feign'd that Orpheus could 
 Make stones to follow where he would. 
 They feign'd indeed ; but had they known 
 Your voice, a truth they might have shown. 
 All instruments most sadly go, 
 Because your tongue excels them so. 
 While I have ears and you a tongue, 
 I shall think all things else go wrong. 
 
 Atit. 'Tis pretty ! _ 
 
 Pol Reiterate again your yielding, lady, 
 And once more let your breath perfume those words. 
 
 Ant. Sir, I am yours ! 
 
 Pol. And I my fair Antiphila's ! your tongue 
 Hath made me happy. 
 
 Ant. May your joy last long ! [Exeunt omnes. 
 
 Scene ii. 
 
 Enter Phylander and Rosinda in yeoman's apjaarel 
 
 Phyl. How glad I am to see you like yourself ! 
 Dear mother, pardon an excess of joy. 
 
 Bos. Such signs of true affection need no pardon. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 Ser. Sir, here's a letter for you. 
 
 Phyl. For me ! from whom 1 The hand resolves me.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY, 93 
 
 Present my service to the lady that sent it : 
 Tell her, ere long I will come kiss her hands. 
 
 Ser. I will, sir ! [Exit SERVANT. 
 
 Phyl. Mother, I writ unto Antiphila, 
 And did desii'e her, for guerdon of my love, 
 To hold me second in her thoughts, and, if 
 She married not my father, to have me. 
 
 Bos. She may perform 
 What she believed would never come to pass. 
 
 Phyl. The Letter. 
 
 " Sir, — I confess I am not contracted, and that 
 I told you so to make you desist. I should be ex- 
 ceeding ungrateful to deny you so small a recjuest. 
 There is nothing hinders me from being yours but 
 your father ; and I solemnly vow unto you, that if I 
 have not him, you shall have me. But let not this 
 beget any hope in you, for, if I be not his, it shall be 
 his refusal. Let it only manifest so nmch, that, had 
 I never seen him, I could have lov'd you most truly. 
 I pray you, let this suffice, and use me so. Choose 
 another mistress, and let me be her second ; you will 
 love me well enough if you love another better. 
 Farewell ! 
 
 Your father's 
 
 Antiphila." 
 
 Ptos. AVhat writ you to her, son, concerning her 
 Professing a contract betwixt us two ? 
 
 Phyl. That in my rage I met with Tandorix, 
 And offered to bereave him of his life ; 
 Who thereupon did vow he was a woman, 
 And for a gentleman call'd Perimont, 
 Who often had denied to marry her, 
 That habit did assume, thereby to learn 
 More easily what did prevent her joy, 
 And whether he affected any other. 
 Thus I your being kept unknown. 
 
 PiOS. I'm glad you did so ! 
 
 Phi. You do well, mother, to wear a mask ; you 
 shall
 
 94 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Thereby be sure to be concealed until 
 
 You find tlie fittest opportunity 
 
 Yourself unto my father to reveal. [Exeunt amho. 
 
 Scene hi. 
 
 Enter Falorus, solus. 
 
 Fal. AVhat will become of me, unfortunate man, 
 "Wlio needs must live in fire or live in shame ] 
 I know not what to speak, nor what to do. 
 Both fear and grief do so confound my senses. 
 I fear to wrong Carionil so much 
 As to be traitorous against our friendship ; 
 And griefs unsufferable endure for the 
 Fairest of ladies, incomparable Lucora. 
 I would she had been kind unto my friend ; 
 Unto him, then, I never had prov'd false. 
 Nor Avill I. I will rather search out frozen 
 Climates, and lie whole nights on hills of ice, 
 Or rather Avill take powerful potions, and sleep 
 Out these unpleasant hours I have to live ; 
 But then I shall not see that beauty. Who 
 But senseless frantics would have thoughts so poor ? 
 My reason forsakes the government of tliis 
 Weak frame, and I am fall'n into disorder. 
 Oh, I could sigh my body into air, 
 And weep 't into a lake, if merciless nature 
 Had made it of a substance suitable 
 Unto my wish now ! Methinks, I could level 
 A promontory into a province, and tread 
 The centre through to read the destinies 
 Of southern stars, and bless their fortunes that 
 Are born under their light, for I am confident 
 Their influences are more mild than ours. 
 There is no other fate can fall on me 
 Shall awe me now ; I will be proud and daring, 
 As the ambitious waves, when wrathful blasts 
 Of northern winds do hoist them violently 
 Against the highest clouds, and rather will 
 Destroy myself than wTong Carionil. [Exit Falorus.
 
 the obstinate lady. 95 
 
 Scene iv. 
 Enter Cleanthe, in woman's apparel, and Phyginois. 
 
 CJe. And serv'd my sister well to leave her so. 
 
 Phijg. How much, dear madam, have you im- 
 poverished 
 Men's eyes by hiding your perfections 
 In their apparel ! Indeed, I flatter not ; 
 I do not know the lady owns such beauty. 
 
 Cle. If my Carionil will like me, then 
 I shall attain the end of my desires. 
 May I appear but lovely in his eye, 
 And what I seem in others I will slio;ht ! 
 But, good Phyginois, I prithee, tell me, 
 In your aff"ection what success you have ; 
 Is Nentis won, or do you hope she Avill ] 
 
 Phyg. She's mine ! Ave are contracted. 
 
 Cle. Joy Avait on you. 
 And make your lives of many years pass pleasant ! 
 Is it not ten ] Are all the clocks groAvn envious 
 Against my bliss, and Avill not let me know 
 How nigh his coming is ? for I esteem 
 Myself most happy in his company. 
 
 Enter Carionil, like himself. 
 
 Car. This is the place Anclethe nam'd. 
 
 Phjg. Madam, he's here ! 
 
 Cle. Befriend me, my good stars ! 
 
 Car. Here is a lady, and a matchless one ! 
 Would two years since I had beheld this beauty. 
 When first I came from Spain and had my heart free ; 
 Then many a sad day had been merry unto me, 
 For unto her Lucora should have yielded. 
 Sweet lady, you that are the foirest creature 
 Nature did ever form, vouchsafe so much 
 Of happiness unto me as to giA^e 
 Me li])erty to touch your lips. — [Kisses lier.'] — Do you 
 KnoAv me 1 and have your ears ere heard
 
 96 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 So poor a name as is Carionil 1 
 But I am much mistook ; you are not she 
 "Whom here I was to meet. I needs must doubt 
 The fates did not intend me such a joy. 
 
 Cle. I am ! 
 
 Car. Deceiv'd Pythagoras ! hadst thou but dreamt 
 The sweetness of this voice, the music of 
 The spheres thou never hadst recorded ! Speak, 
 Fairest and best of ladies ; let me hear 
 If you have so unmatch'd a pity in you 
 As to look on me with a friendly eye. 
 Can you love me ? 
 
 Cle. Most noble sir, I do, most violently. 
 
 Car. If that to live with you detained me not, 
 I should be griev'd that my joy for so great 
 A fortune did not stupify my senses. 
 And cast me into an eternal sleep. 
 Where is Anclethe 1 He is much to blame 
 In not attending you. 
 
 Cle. Whom speak you of, dear sir ] 
 
 Car. My boy. 
 
 Cle. I do not know a boy of that name, truly ; 
 Nor, I think, is there, 
 
 Ca): You do amaze me ! 
 
 Cle. You may believe me, sir, for I am he. 
 
 Car. Wonders in riddles ! 
 
 Cle. I am your page Anclethe, and sister to 
 Lucora, Avho for love attended you 
 Disguis'd, because I found, for the great enmity 
 Between our families, my ftither never 
 Would give me where I would bestow myself 
 
 Car. Your nurse did steal you when you was a 
 child 1 
 
 Cle. Most true. This gentleman, her son, my 
 friend. 
 Occasioned my escape, by gi'V'ing me 
 A knowledge of my birth. His true relation 
 Can vindicate me from suspicion. 
 
 Car. I need it not. 
 Were you not she, as I believe you are,
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 97 
 
 And mean of birth, I should account myself 
 A gainer by you. Sir, you have done that 
 Hath placed you in my heart among those friends 
 For whose sakes I my life will sacrifice. 
 
 Phi/g. My lord, you do indebt me to your service. 
 In your acquaintance I shall be most honour'd. 
 
 die. Sir, if you please, he will relate my story. 
 
 Car. By no means ; keep it for your father, when 
 You do disclose yourself But can you pardon 
 Those incivilities I did commit 
 When you was Anclethe 1 
 
 Cle. Wrong not yourself ; you did make more of me 
 Than I deserv'd, or could. 
 
 Car. But why, my sweet Cleanthe, would you not 
 Let me know who you was before 1 
 
 Cle. Dear sir, I saw how violent you Avas 
 In your affection to my careless sister. 
 And had no hope you would leave her for me. 
 And, if you did obtain her, meant to do 
 What my disastrous fate should prompt me to. 
 
 Car. Sweetest of all your sex ! 
 
 Cle. But, if you never got her and o'ercame 
 Her obstinacy, to declare myself ; 
 If not, but love had triumphed in your fall, 
 I'd not have liv'd to see your funeral. 
 
 Car. The gods requite this goodness, and make me 
 worthy 
 Of you, my dear Cleanthe. I contract 
 Myself upon your lips, which Ave will perfect 
 Ere you own ])ublicly your father, for 
 The enmity will make him charge you otherwise. 
 
 Cle. I pray you, let us. 
 
 Car. A thousand thanks. Come ! shall we Avalk, 
 fair unstress 1 
 
 Cle. Conclusions fair the fates to them do give, 
 Who constant in their loves and faithful live. 
 
 Enter Falorus. 
 
 Car. Stay, dear Cleanthe, here is my friend; he shall 
 Partake my joy. Well met, my best Falorus ! 
 
 G
 
 98 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Fal. It seems you are not Tucapelo now. 
 Where is Lucora 1 have you married her ] 
 
 Car. No, I have not, friend ! 
 
 Fal. Kefrain ! 
 
 I am your enemy ; embrace me not ! 
 Receive my sword, and pierce this heart, Carionil ! 
 
 \_Gives his sioord. 
 
 Car. He hath not yet descried you. 
 "Withdraw a little, dear mistress. Sir, I pray you 
 To bear her comj^any, for who can tell 
 What in this frenzy he may do 1 
 
 Cle. Hereabouts we will await your leisure. 
 
 [Exeunt Cleanthe and Phyginois. 
 
 Car. What ails my friend 1 Let me but know the 
 man 
 Is cause of this disorder in you, and 
 He shall not see the grey-eyed morning break 
 From th' oriental mountains any more. 
 Let me partake of that unwieldy grief 
 Hath bow'd my friend so much beneath himself. 
 
 Fal. Leave compliments, Carionil, and make 
 A passage for my soul, that it may leave 
 So vile a habitation as this body ; 
 And, when I'm dead, rip out my heart, and in 't 
 Survey my fault, for I want words, and have 
 Not impudence enough to tell it you. 
 
 Car. 0, what might be the cause this matchless 
 frame. 
 And worthiest cabinet that ever man 
 Inclos'd his secrets in, is so disturbed ? 
 Noble Falorus, think to whom you speak ! 
 It is Carionil, whose life you do 
 Make burdenous to him by the suspicion 
 Of wronging him whom you have ever lov'd. 
 
 Fal. You do deceive yourself; I lately have 
 Transgress'd against our league of amity. 
 If you desire to be a happy man. 
 And to enjoy what most you seek, be kind 
 Unto yourself, and run my body through. 
 
 Car. Can I be happy and Falorus dead 1
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 99 
 
 No ; I should live a desolater life 
 
 Than e'er the strictest anchorite hath done, 
 
 And wear my body to an anatomy, 
 
 For real sorrow at such a dire mishap. 
 
 Live, then, my friend ! and may you number days, 
 
 Until arithmetic grow faint and leave you ! 
 
 Fal. You know not how much hurt you wish your- 
 self. 
 Would you torment me twice % If not, forget 
 Falorus utterly, and let me die. 
 
 Car. I understand you not. 
 
 Fal. Would you have me blast my own fame by 
 speaking 
 My fault, and have me executioner 
 Unto myself 1 
 
 Car. Release your soul of all her griefs, and say 
 From whence your sorrows have oi'iginal. 
 Have you not oft told me of my impatiency ? 
 Give me now leave to be as plain with you. 
 The angry winds never enrag'd the seas 
 So much as some small grief hath done my friend. 
 I do conjure you by our former loves,- — 
 For sure not long since we wei'e friends indeed, — 
 To let me know why you are thus distemper' d. 
 I do not fear but I shall free you from 
 This passion, so precipitate and dangerous. 
 
 Fal. You are most good, and get yourself, Carionil, 
 A name above the ablest character ; 
 None like it can decipher you. And would 
 I always had continued Falorus, 
 Then I had yet remain'd your friend ! But, if 
 You needs must know the reason of my fury, 
 Draw out the sword, that, when you have receiv'd it, 
 Your hand and not your words may strike me dead. 
 
 Car. Be not importun'd longer ! Ease your heart ! 
 For, credit me, I grieve to see you thus. 
 
 Fal. I am in love ; suppose the rest, and kill me. 
 
 Car. With Lucora ] 
 
 Fal. Too true. Now curse me into dust, and with 
 Your breath disperse me in the air ; but spare me !
 
 100 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Chide me not for my falsehood, and inflict 
 
 But one j)unishment on me, and be that the sword. 
 
 Yet hear me speak one word or two before. 
 
 I have not woo'd her, nor have sought performance 
 
 Of that free promise that her father made me, 
 
 But faithfully have temporized with him. 
 
 Nor did I Avillingly consent unto 
 
 This passion; it did seize me violently. 
 
 Car. Be you more calm. Take her, Falorus ! you 
 have 
 A liberty for me. I speak in earnest. 
 
 Fal. Then all is Avell. Return my sword, dear friend. 
 Carionil, I will not hinder thee; \_Gives him Ms sivord. 
 My name shall not be blasted in thy sighs. 
 Fall, worthless man, 'tis pity I should live ! 
 
 [Offers to Ml himself. 
 
 Car. What mean you, my Falorus 1 For heaven's 
 sake leave, 
 And your own light rashly extinguish not ! 
 I for Lucora do not care, and have 
 All my affection unto her recall'd. 
 And am engag'd unto another lady. 
 I stole her from her chamber in my disguise, 
 And then, bethinking me how she had us'd me, 
 I told her that I would not have a lady 
 "Who would prefer a Moor before me. Her 
 Slighting of me made me leave her so. 
 
 Fal. Is this not policy to delay my death *? 
 
 Car. If e'er you found me false, believe me not. 
 
 Fal. It then is true ? • 
 
 Car. Most true, Falorus ! 
 
 Fal. License me, friend, now to embrace you. Well 
 met, 
 Carionil ! and welcomer indeed 
 Than ever yet man was unto me. I 
 Will live and owe my life unto you, and Avhen 
 You please I for your sake will lay it down. 
 Freely I may Lucora now adore ; 
 And, rather than to lose her, I will try 
 All ways that are contained in policy.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 101 
 
 Car. But say she never will consent 1 
 
 Fal. I am 
 
 Most confident slie will, to please lier fiitlier ; 
 But, if she should not, I could suffer it. 
 'Twas not my love made me thus passionate; 
 It was because in it I wronged you. 
 
 Car. Did you not mark, when you did see me first, 
 A joy unusual sit upon my brow 1 
 
 Fal. I had so much of sorrow in my heart, 
 That Avitli it all my senses were possess'd. 
 
 Car. But you perceiv'd I had left my disguise 1 
 What out of it did you collect ? 
 
 Fal. I thought 
 Lucora had descried you, and you had 
 A jDeremptory denial to your suit. 
 
 Enter Cleanthe and Phyginois. 
 
 Cle. Sir ! seeing you had made a fair conclusion. 
 And measurina; each minute for an hour 
 Until I were with you, I rudely come 
 Uncall'd for to you. 
 
 Car. Ever most welcome, my Cleanthe ! Friend, 
 This is the lady I did mention to you. 
 She was Anclethe, but is sister to 
 The mistress of your thoughts, and called Cleanthe, 
 Whom long since all her friends believed lost, 
 And have these many years left mourning for. 
 
 Fal. A strange discovery, and admiraljJe ! * 
 
 Car. Some other time command the history ; 
 This mutually among ourselves we'll spend. 
 
 Fal. Lady, account me servant to your virtues ; 
 And you, sir, may command Falorus always. 
 
 Phyfj. Your love will honour me, most noble lord. 
 
 Cle. Sir ! I for you will intercession make 
 Unto my sister, and do hope shall prosper. 
 I will make known how much you are her servant, 
 And Avhat affection my ears have witnessed ; 
 For I, unseen to you, did hear what pass'd. 
 
 Fal. You will oblige me everlastingly. 
 
 * "Fal. I am amaz'd." — Id ed.
 
 102 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Car. Now, let us walk ! 
 
 Fal. "Whosoever loyal friendsliip doth regard, 
 With fair events the gods will him reAvard. 
 
 [Exeunt omnes. 
 
 Scene v. 
 
 Enter Jaques, solus. 
 
 Jaq. I have a licence for my master and the brave 
 gallant Mistress Lorece ; but it cost too much, a- 
 conscience. I Avould a writ five times as much for 
 half I gave for it ; but 'tis the fashion among great 
 ones, so they have their wills they care not at how 
 dear a rate they buy them. This marriage is like 
 Christmas, when it comes it brings good cheer with 't ; 
 we have fat venison — hold, belly, hold ! and wine. I 
 am sure we shall want none, for the vintner had 
 twenty pounds on me this morning. I ha' bespoke 
 a merry company of fiddlers ; oh, they are boon felloAvs ! 
 And there will l)e old dancing, for I mean to sweat my 
 doublet quite through ere I leave. 
 
 Enter LoRECE and Vandona. 
 
 Madam, here's the licence your worships sent me for. 
 The parson and this will make all sure. 
 
 Lor. 'Tis well done, Jaques ! for this, be thou the 
 Neptune of the cellar, raise a tempest and drown who- 
 ever doth go down the stairs ; like old Silenus behave 
 thyself! 
 
 Van. When we have din'd, let's go to my lord 
 Polidacre's, and invite that house. 
 
 Lor. We will, my dear widow. 
 
 Jaq. 'Twill be a merry time, I see. [Exeunt omnes.
 
 the obstinate lady. 103 
 
 Scene vi. 
 Enter Polidacre, Lucora, Antiphila, and Nentis. 
 
 Ant. I wonder we have not seen the Ethiopian 
 lord to-day. 
 
 Pol. He'll not be long absent. 
 Lucora, thou hast my heart for thy consent ; 
 Falorus is a worthy gentleman, 
 And one of an approved fashion — 
 He doth deserve a Princess. My Lucora, 
 I know his nature is most noble, else 
 I would not move thee for him, and although 
 The time is not expir'd, will you steal 
 So much from age and be his wife 1 I long 
 To see thee well bestow'd. 
 
 LiK. Whate'er you please t' command, I will per- 
 form. 
 
 Enter Falorus. 
 
 Pol. Here is Falorus ! Welcome, my lord, I shall 
 Shortly say my son ; my daughter I have won, 
 And, when I please, unto you she will give 
 Away herself 
 
 Fal. You are most noble ! 
 
 But can you, fairest lady, look so low 
 As is Falorus 1 Can there be such a virtue 
 Of rare humility Avithin you that 
 You thus confer affection upon me 1 
 
 LiLC. My lord, my father desires to make me yours. 
 And I have learn'd so much obedience 
 As willingly to do what he commands.* 
 
 Fal. I wish I could, most excellent Lucora, 
 Thank you in all the languages are worth 
 Your dear attention, you have made me so 
 Exceeding happy ; I envy not his wealth 
 That owns the inexhaustible mines of fam'd Peru. 
 
 Imc. I thank you for this love, and have a hope, 
 * "Enjoins me." — 1st ed.
 
 104 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 If it Avitliin my power lyes, I shall 
 Requite you, su\ 
 
 Fal. My joy hath clull'd my senses. 
 
 Enter Lorece, Vandona, and Jaques. 
 
 Lor. Now, brother, have I not ended haj^i^ily ? 
 Vandona is my own ; we only want 
 The ceremony ecclesiastical. 
 My lord, I am your sen^ant ! 
 
 Fal. I have a mistress got, the richest beauty 
 Great Britain ever Avas renowned for. 
 
 Lor. Much, A^ery much, i' faith ; have you won her 
 For whom hopeful Carionil did die % 
 
 Fal. I won her not, Lorece ; her father's desire 
 Meeting with her consent hath made her mine 
 
 Van. Sister, you have been a stranger to me ; I pray 
 you be not so. 
 
 Nen. You shall see me oftener. 
 
 Lor. Thou may'st be Mercury, and I will glory 
 Thou art my brother. 
 
 Van. Madam ! I'm very glad to meet you here. 
 
 Ant. And I as joyful of your company. 
 
 Enter Carionil, Cleanthe, and Phyginois. 
 
 Lor. Wonders ! Carionil's alive again, and here ! 
 
 Pol. For some strange end he did give forth his 
 death ; 
 But what young beauteous lady's that 1 
 
 LiK. It is a face worthy of admiration. \_She kneels. 
 
 Pol. Rise, lady; kneel not unto me. 
 
 Cle. Then I were most unfit to be your child. 
 
 Pol. How ! my daughter that was lost 1 
 
 Cle. Yes, my lord ; and beg your blessing. 
 
 Pol. May the good heavens make of thee, my 
 daughter. 
 If you be she, an old and happy woman ! 
 
 L^ic. I am a sister to you ; spare some time 
 For me to show how much I do rejoice 
 At this unlook'd for good. None of your kin, 
 Fair sister, are more glad than I to see you,
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 105 
 
 Whom we had never hoped to see. I am 
 Most proud to be so near allied unto 
 So excellent a creature as you are. 
 
 Cle. I am most joyful of your love. 
 
 Ant. We are most glad to see you safe. 
 
 Van. As if you were our sister, 
 
 Cle. My thanks, sweet ladies. 
 
 Pol. Dearest Cleanthe ! confirm thy father in 
 His joy ; relate thy life, that out of it 
 I may grow confident thou art my daughter. 
 
 Phyg. Lady, leave that to me. My lord, and if 
 You with her silence can so long dispense, 
 I would do that. 
 
 Cle. He is my nurse's son, to whom, my lord, 
 
 I owe all thanks for my escape. 
 
 Pol. Sir, when you please you may Ijegin. 
 
 Nen. What ! not a gentleman 1 I am undone, 
 But must be secret in 't. [Aside. 
 
 Phyg. My lord ! 
 
 This lady's nurse, my mother, had a son 
 Older than the lady Cleanthe is by seven years ; 
 Whom she did love so extraordinarily. 
 That for his sake she foully err'd from virtue. 
 She thought it was an easy thing for her. 
 If that their lives attamed to those years, 
 To make your daughter wife unto her son. 
 Which is the cause she privily escap'd. 
 
 Pol. Most strange ! 
 
 Phyg. By chance I heard this of my brother, who 
 Told me, against my mother's strict command, 
 What a great mari'iage he should have, and that 
 Cleanthe was the daughter of a lord, 
 Your honour's child, 
 
 Whom all we thought but of a mean descent ; 
 For she had won the country to believe 
 That she did find her in the open field. 
 I, pitying her hard chance, did tell her all. 
 And promis'd her I Avould attend upon her 
 Until she had her parents happy made 
 With knowledge of her safety.
 
 106 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 Cle. The rest I must relate. 
 
 Dear sir, be kind ! and if I have done aught 
 You shall dislike, pardon my first offence. 
 I was no sooner come to town, but saw 
 This noble gentleman, with whom so violently 
 I fell in love, that for his sake, pray pardon me, 
 My own apparel I did lay away, 
 And did become his page. And when I did 
 Disclose myself, he kindly did requite me ; 
 In brief, we are contracted. 
 I did not well without you to do thus. 
 But your forgiveness, sir, I cannot doubt. 
 He told me that there was a difference 
 Between our families, and therefore you. 
 If your consent was ask'd, would never yield. 
 
 Jaq. Would I were i' the cellar ! I care not for 
 
 these dry and tedious tales. 
 Pol. Whether I should or no I cannot tell, 
 But I am glad that it hath chanced thus ; 
 This match an ancient discord will conclude, 
 And may the gods be favourable to it ! 
 
 Car. Most worthy lord, my faithful thanks ! 
 Phyg. Here also is a ring which by 
 Your father, my Lord Falorus, was given her, 
 When at the font he for her answer'd : 
 She wor't about her neck Avhen she was stolen. 
 
 Pol. I know it well, and now am confident 
 Thou art my lost Cleanthe ; be his wife. 
 And may the heavens make up the match most for- 
 tunate. 
 Cariouil, I now am glad I have 
 A man so honour'd to my son-in-law. 
 
 Car. My lord, if that I can perform my will. 
 You never shall repent your daughter's choice, 
 
 Pol. I do not doubt I shall. Now, I would know 
 Why your death was reported ? 
 
 Car. I was in love long with your eldest daughter. 
 The fair Lucora, but could never win her. 
 Brought almost to despair, I did assume 
 The habit and colour of a negro.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 107 
 
 Pol. Then you was Tucapelo 1 
 
 Car. I was indeed ! 
 
 Knowing she had refus'd the greatest marriages, 
 And many of the handsomest of the kingdom, 
 I fully did believe she never would 
 Like any man of this complexion, 
 And therefore feign'd myself an Ethiopian ; 
 But first gave out my death, and that unto 
 Myself I had done violence for her. 
 
 Luc. Surely he will not do so unworthily 
 As to make mention of my fond affection, [Aside. 
 
 Car. But all could not prevail. 
 
 Luc. I am glad he ends so. [Aside. 
 
 Car. And therefore I desisted wholly ; which, when 
 Anclethe saw, my sweet Cleanthe now. 
 She did disclose herself. 
 
 Pol. I do perceive the heavens intended you 
 Should reconcile our families. 
 
 Jaq^. Here's love and love again ! I would some- 
 body would love me. 
 
 Lite. My dear sister, you must not think me rude 
 Because I do express my love so fully. 
 
 Pol. Be my Carionil ! 
 All that are mine respect this lady, for 
 I do intend to make her mine. 
 
 Car. We are her servants, and most joyfully 
 Shall kneel unto a lady of her virtues ! 
 
 Enter Phylander and Eosinda. 
 
 Fal. What lady's that 1 
 
 Car. She's masked, and I cannot guess. 
 
 Pol. Phylander, this lady is thy sister, the lost 
 Cleanthe. 
 
 Phjl. Grow not too weak, my body, to contain 
 My soul within thee at these joys ! 
 Fair sister, I am glad that I can name 
 So beauteous a lady as you are so ; 
 For you the heavens be thanked. 
 
 Pol. Carionil's alive, and must be styl'd your brother ; 
 Cleanthe him hath chose.
 
 1 08 THE OBSTINATE LADY, 
 
 Perfect thy joys, Phylancler, when thou wilt, 
 
 And hear their histories. 
 
 This Lady you must call mother. 
 
 Fhyl. But I must not. 
 
 Pol. How? 
 
 Phijl. This here I will. 
 Dear mother, now confirm my words. \Unmasks. 
 
 Pol. AVelcome to life, Rosinda ; thy face and beauty 
 I do remember Avell. But wherefore did you 
 Raise the report of your untimely death 1 
 
 Bos. That at a fitter time ; this give me leave 
 To spend in joy. 
 
 My dear Cleanthe, for I do believe, 
 Because thy father doth acknowledge thee. 
 Thou art Cleanthe, my so long lost daughter. 
 Never was mother's heart so light ; I cannot 
 Utter my joys, my tears must witness them. 
 To Time I am indebted that he hath 
 Spared my life until I see thee safe. 
 
 Cle. I want expression ; but my life shall be 
 A comment on my heart, wherein you shall 
 Perceive what your Cleanthe is. 
 
 Phyl. Now you are mine, fair Antiphila ! 
 
 Ant. I will j)erform my promise. 
 
 Phyl. Both your consents I beg. 
 
 Pol. How's this ? 
 
 Ant. I did engage myself, 
 That, if I were not yours, I would be his. 
 
 Pol. Then may the knot prove happy, and continue 
 A firm one while the gods do lend you breath ! 
 
 Phijl. It is my wish, 
 
 Pol. Was you her servant, too 1 Wife, chide in 
 secret ; I was foresworn. 
 
 Bos. We all are frail ; mortality may boast 
 Of strength, but many conclusions deny it. 
 
 Ne7i. Away ! I will have none of you ; I Avill not beg, 
 
 Pol. You shall not need. I, for his love and care 
 Unto my daughter, will give him means befitting 
 A gentleman, which shall descend unto 
 His posterity ; poverty shall not spoil his fortune.
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 109 
 
 Fan. 'Tis nobly said ! If you do like liim, take liim, 
 sister. 
 
 Nen. Now, I'm content ! 
 
 Phyg. My joy is great ! My thanks, sweet mis- 
 tress ! My Lord Polidacre, I am your grateful, 
 though unworthiest servant. Noav, mistress, you 
 shall know the policy I won your aftection Avith : my 
 affections being settled so high, and I poor, I made 
 myself Draculemion ; but your promise, worthiest 
 lord, hath now enriched me. 
 
 Jaq. me ! was you that merry fellow 1 You have 
 a parlous wit. 
 
 Fhyg. One thing I must crave of you. 
 
 Fol. You shall obtain, sir ! 
 
 Phyg. That you will pardon my mother. 
 
 Pol. I do, for your sake. 
 
 Luc. Since I perceive you in the bounteous way 
 Of granting boons, sir, I assume the boldness 
 To become a petitioner to you. 
 
 Pol. My dear Lucora, freely ask, for I 
 Doubtlessly shall consent to thy demand. 
 
 Luc. Seeing the gracious heavens have blessed our 
 house 
 With the recovery of my long lost sister ; 
 And since the powers divine have link'd her heart 
 To the affections of a noble gentleman, 
 A marriage like to grace your honour'd age 
 With hopeful nephews ; I humbly crave your licence 
 To enjoy the freedom of a single life, 
 For I've no inclination to become 
 A subject unto Hymen's glorious bondage. 
 
 Pol. Remember, my Lucora, all your promises. 
 And suffer not your obstinacy to cloud 
 The hai)piness of this evening. 
 
 Fal. My excellent mistress ! you have rais'd me near 
 The zenith of all happiness, and will you 
 Now leave me on that mighty i)recipice, 
 To fall into a sad abyss of misery 1 
 
 Cle. My dear sweet sister! give me leave to trouble you 
 With a few words aside.
 
 110 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 
 
 I saw tlie Lord Falorus for your sake, 
 
 Between a great afFection and firm friendship, 
 
 In as high a passion as you can imagine 
 
 A noble and a faithful lover unto you. 
 
 He in his soul adores you, I am confident ; 
 
 And I'm obliged by promise to become 
 
 His intercessor for your kind afFection ! 
 
 I do beseech you, therefore, grace your sister. 
 
 Though bold, being younger, to importune you thus, 
 
 T' honour the Lord Falorus with your love ! 
 
 Luc. I dare not, my fair sister, be so cruel 
 As to deny you in your first request ; 
 I'll entertain his flame and be his bride. 
 I will be plain with you ; had you been silent, 
 In a ship bound for Spain I had gone to-night. 
 With some ladies of our near kindred, towards Lisbon, 
 And so avoided the courtship of Falorus, 
 And all my father's continual imiJortunities. 
 To make this escape more unexpected, and 
 The better to provide me for this journey, 
 I had consented when my father jjleas'd 
 To marry him ; but your entreaties have 
 Prevailed above all my resolutions. 
 
 Fed. Dear madam ! let me beseech your assistance. 
 
 Ros. My lord, I will desire her, and am confident 
 I shall obtain. I pray thee, my Lucora, 
 Submit to the entreaties of thy friends. 
 And let not thy refusal of Falorus 
 Beget a sad look on this happy evening. 
 
 Liic. Madam ! you and my sister shall overcome ; 
 And though, my Lord Falorus, you may tax me 
 For an obstinate disposition, you shall find me, 
 Throughout my future days, to make amends, 
 And prove a very loving Avife unto you. 
 
 Fal. Now you have fixed me in a fortunate 
 And glorious life. 
 
 Pol. I thank thee, Lucora. 
 
 Jaq. Everybody has his sweetheart but I. One or 
 other take pity on me, and let me not be a cypher 
 and stand here for nothing ! I see the fault is in my
 
 THE OBSTINATE LADY. Ill 
 
 years, otherwise ser\dng-men are not so slighted by 
 ladies. [To the spectator ladies. 
 
 Pol. Let us withdraw ! you all 
 Shall sup with me to-night, and we'll design 
 The happy day that shall each couple join. 
 
 Car. You that have mistresses, do not despair 
 To get them, be they ne'er so proud and fair. 
 One way or other, you have seen it done ; 
 The obstinatest lady may be won. [Exeunt omnes.
 
 THE EPILOGUE. 
 
 iMcora. The obstinate lady yet is obstinate, 
 And, careless either of your love or hate. 
 She dares continue so. Nor will I beg 
 Some friend within to come Avith his low leg, 
 And 's hat in's hand, to woo your praise : It is 
 So poor that I had rather hear you hiss. 
 Our Poet bade 's be bold, for 's play was good, 
 And that 'twould take, if it was understood. 
 And so we are ; for what's our fate we must 
 And will endure, be 't lawful or unjust. 
 Unto your justice we appeal, which lies 
 Within your hands. Do what you please, and rise. 
 
 Ckanfhe. sister ! this is likely to spoil all. 
 Gentle spectators, also give me leave. 
 Ladies and gentlemen, if we have said 
 Aught that hath pleas'd your ears, or pastime made. 
 Our time we have spent well : but if that we 
 Have tedious been, and you did sit and see 
 With weariness, our Poet will repent 
 That you this comedy we did present. 
 Y'ave paid the actors well ; we thank you, and know it, 
 And wish that you would gratify our Poet. 
 He wants no money as the case now stands. 
 Yet prays you to be liberal of your hands.
 
 TEAPPOLIX CEEDUTO PRINCIPE 
 
 OK, 
 TRAPPOLIX SUPPOSED A PKINCE. 
 
 H
 
 Trappolm Creduto Principe; or, Trappioltn supposed a 
 Prince : An Italian Tragi-Comedy. The Scene, part of Italy. 
 Written by Sir Aston Cokain. London, Printed by Williavi 
 Godbid, 1658.
 
 THE ACTORS' NAMES. 
 
 Lavinio, . 
 Sforza, 
 Horatio, . 
 Barbarino,| 
 Machavil, j 
 Mattemores, 
 Trappolin, 
 Mago, . . 
 pucannello, 
 bulflesh, . 
 Calfshead, 
 Barne, . . 
 Tiler, . . 
 Whip, . . 
 
 The great Duke of Tuscany. 
 The Duke of Milain. 
 Son of the Dtike of Savoy. 
 
 Two noble Flor-entincs. 
 
 A Spanish Captain. 
 
 Supims'd a Prince. 
 
 A Conjuror. 
 
 A Jailor. 
 
 A Butcher. 
 
 A Puritan. 
 
 A Farmer. 
 
 A poor Wm-hnan. 
 
 A Coachman. 
 
 A Notary. A Guard. Officers. 
 
 Eo, Meo, and Areo, . Devils. 
 
 Hymen, Luna, Mars, \ 
 Mercury, Jupiter, \ Maskers. 
 Venus, Saturn, Sol, j 
 
 Attendants. 
 
 Isabella, . 
 hortentia, 
 Prudentia, 
 
 HiPOLITA, . 
 
 Flametta, . 
 Mrs. Fine, 
 
 Wife to Lavinio. 
 JVife to Sforza. 
 Horatids Mistress. 
 The Captain's Mistress. 
 Trappolin^ s Siveetheart. 
 A Plaintiff.
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Gallants, be 't known ! as yet we cannot say 
 
 To Avliom Ave are beholding for this phay ; 
 
 But this our poet hath licens'd us to tell, 
 
 Ingenious Italy hath liked it well. 
 
 Yet it is no translation ; for he ne'er 
 
 But twice in Venice did it ever hear. 
 
 There it did take, and he doth hope, if you 
 
 Have your old humours, it Avill please here too. 
 
 He swears he hath not spoil'd it, and protest 
 
 We think it good, though he doth none o' th' best. 
 
 You often have heard worse i' th' house before, 
 
 And had Ave made the Prologue Ave'd say more. 
 
 That labour he hath sav'd us, 'cause he Avould 
 
 No partial friend should cry it up for good. 
 
 An excellent neAV comedy, as you say 
 
 When you have seen 't, he so AA'ill judge his play. 
 
 He is not peremptory, like to some 
 
 Who think that all is best from them doth come. 
 
 Ladies and gentlemen, you that do knoAV 
 
 To censure rightly, as you think, so do ; 
 
 Our poet scorns to beg your hands, yet faith, 
 
 That at the end if he the favour hath. 
 
 This shall not be his last ; that he'll endeavour 
 
 To gratify you shortly Avitli another. 
 
 HoAve'er it takes, he for your presence sends 
 
 His thanks by me, and hopes we shall part friends.
 
 Sir Aston Cokain, in the prologue to this play, advances the 
 plea that, although he founded the design upon a piece he saw 
 twice during his stay at Venice, it is not a translation. The 
 original plot, however, in so far as it relates to Trappolin in 
 his judicial character, is borrowed from a story in the Contes 
 de Duvilk. The play appears to have been produced prior to 
 the Eestoration, and was revived after that event, ^vith a new 
 prologue written by Duffet. It was subsequently altered by 
 Xahum Tate, and acted as a new piece at the Theatre in Dorset 
 Garden, 1685, under the title of A Duke, and no Duke. This 
 "farce" was printed in the same year in 4to, "Avitli the several 
 new songs set to music, with thorow basses for the theorbo or 
 basse viol." These songs are three in number, but there is no 
 marking in the text as to where they were intended to be intro- 
 duced. 
 
 The play, so altered, was frequently performed throughout 
 the last century, and was exceedingly popular. Nevertheless, 
 the editors of the Biographia Dramatica say respecting it : 
 " Probability, and even possibility, is broken through, and very 
 little wit or humour to compensate for such irregularit}'. Yet, 
 as its absurdities are of a kind adapted to excite the laughter 
 of the vulgar, it has been revived at several times with little 
 alteration and by different titles, and is even now [1812] some- 
 times acted at both theatres, tho' in a very curtailed and 
 mangled manner, under the title of Duke, and no Duke." 
 Robert Drurj-, who writes three other dramatic pieces, con- 
 verted Cokain's play into " a farcical ballad opera," which was 
 produced at Drury Lane in 1732 with much success, with the 
 title of The Devil of a Duke, or Trappo/in's Vagaries. The 
 alterations differed from those of Tate, while twenty-one entirely 
 new songs were interspersed throughout. 
 
 A combined version of the two altered editions was printed 
 at Edinburgh in 12mo in 1733, "and sold by Allan Ramsay." 
 The title is the same as that of Drury, but "as acted at the 
 theatres of London and Edinburgh." In this all Drury's songs 
 are retained, with exception of the finale, which, from having 
 been a duet between Trappolin and Flametta, to the air of 
 The Yorkshire Tale, is superseded by a duet between Lavinio 
 and Trappolin, to the tune of Nancy's to the Greemvood gane. 
 In addition, there are other fifteen songs, all to Scotch airs, 
 from which it may be concluded that the publisher — the dis- 
 tinguished author of The Gentle Shepherd — was the adapter of
 
 118 
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 the piece, and that these songs emanated from his own pen. 
 The cast of characters at the Edinburgh Theatre was : — 
 
 Lavinio, Duke of Florence, 
 
 Brunette, Prince of Savoy, 
 
 Barbai'iuo, ) y j 
 , 1, , ' \ Lords, 
 Alberto, ) ' 
 
 Mago, a Conjuror, . 
 
 Trappolin, a Buffoon — False Duke, 
 
 Quaker, .... 
 
 Captain, .... 
 
 Isabella, Duchess, . 
 
 Prudentia, Duke's Sister, 
 
 Flametta, Trappolin's Sweetheart, 
 
 1st Woman, .... 
 
 2d "Woman, .... 
 
 In July 1818 a comic melodramatic burletta, called The 
 Dulce and the Devil, was produced at Covent Garden, and ran 
 for several nights. A magazine notice of the time says it is 
 " founded on an ancient tragi-comedy taken from the Italian, 
 and titled, Trappolin Creduto Principe; or, TrajJpoUn sup- 
 p)Osed a Prince, written by Sir Aston Cokain, and first printed 
 in 1658. It jTOSsesses an infiidte deal of humour. Fitz-William 
 played Trappolin, and in his extravagant and ludicrous per- 
 sonation of the Duke reminded us of Mimden's Sam Dabs, 
 and in his drunken scene of Charles Kemble's Cassio, kept the 
 house in a continual roar of laughter ; and Miss Beaumont 
 sang a sweet song very prettily." This is the latest account 
 we have of this piece, which, with fresh and judicious alteration 
 to suit the taste of the present day, might even now be revived 
 with profit to some enterprising theatrical manager. 
 
 . Mr. 
 
 Patersou. 
 
 . Mr. 
 
 Ware. 
 
 \ Mr. 
 
 Miller. 
 
 • ■( ilr. 
 
 Eraser. 
 
 . ]\Ir. 
 
 Bulkelley. 
 
 . Mr. 
 
 Wescomb. 
 
 . Mr. 
 
 Price. 
 
 . I\Ir. 
 
 Mavfield. 
 
 . Mrs. 
 
 Ware. 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 Woodland 
 
 . Mrs. 
 
 ]\Iiller. 
 
 . Mrs. 
 
 Bulkelley. 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 _• _ 1 _ _ _ 1 _ ^ 
 
 Ayres. 
 
 1 i-s J f
 
 TRAPPOLIX CREDUTO PRINCIPE: 
 Or, TRAPPOLm SUPPOSED A PRINCE. 
 
 Act I. — Scene i. 
 
 Enter Trappolin, solus. 
 
 My wench Flametta is a dear rogue ; the pretty fool 
 dotes on me. My Lord Barbarino can do notliing 
 with her ; his pistolles and jewels she cares not for. 
 And 'tis a handsome thing ; no pomatum e'er touch'd 
 her lips, or paint her cheeks, yet are they cherries 
 and roses. I am most happy to be what I am, and 
 to have the love of such a one as she. 
 
 Enter Flametta. 
 
 Fla. Good morrow, Trappolin ! how does my love 1 
 Tra. First let us kiss, and after I will tell. 
 For ever thine, Flametta ! 
 Fla. Oh, thanks, my dear ! 
 
 Enter Barbarino. 
 
 Bar. Tlie villain Trappolin has a handsome wench, 
 and, which angers me, an honest one. I have spent 
 many weeks about her, but never could do any good ; 
 she will not, neither for love or money. And see 
 where they are a-talking together. 
 
 Tra. Yonder is my Lord Barbarino ! ]VIy dear 
 Flametta, — I am your honour's servant, — this free 
 promise of thine I can never enough thank thee for. 
 — At your lordship's command. — How happily shall
 
 12^ TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 we live together in marriage, both loving so well and 
 truly! — Your honour's humble slave. — Let us kiss 
 again ! — Your poor vassal, my lord. — Thus will Ave 
 spend our days in these delights ; so will we kiss, 
 Flametta ! — I beseech your honour to pardon me. — 
 We ne'er will be aweary of ourselves ; if thou dost 
 sigh, thy Trappolin will weep. — Your honour shall 
 command me always. — And when thou sing'st, thy 
 Trappolin will dance ! 
 
 Fla. And I am thine, my honest Trappolin, 
 And ever will be constant unto thee. 
 
 Tra. I'll attend your honour presently. 
 
 Fla. There's no man alive shall make nie prove 
 Unfaithful unto thee, so much I love. 
 
 Tra. Your lordship must pardon me a little ; 
 I am something busy. 
 
 Fla. My Trappolin shall not bestow a kiss 
 But I will i^ay it him with usu^3^ 
 It is impossible for thee to be 
 More thy Flametta's than Flametta's thine ! 
 
 Tra. I will come to your honour presently. 
 
 Fla. Pardon, sweetheart ! that now I must be 
 gone ; 
 My stay another time shall make amends. 
 A kiss, my dear, my lovely Trappolin ; 
 With such I shall be never satisfied. [Exit. 
 
 Tra. Farewell, my dear rogue ! My lord, I come. 
 Your honour must pardon me — you saw how I was 
 employ'd ; I could not leave the poor fool. Your lord- 
 ship sees she loves me, and protest her labour is not 
 lost. Now, if your honour hath anything to command 
 me, I am ready, — Trappolino, your poor servant ! 
 
 Bar. You are a saucy, peremptory villain. 
 And I have well perceiv'd your base demeanour ; 
 Although I see the wench is yours, you shall 
 Repent the freedom of your evil language — 
 Be sure you shall. [Exit. 
 
 Tra. Good morrow, my lord ! 
 
 Let him do his worst, I care not a rush for him. He 
 would ha' my wench, and I am glad I abus'd him. I
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 121 
 
 ha' made liia honour something choleric ; let him 
 digest it how he Avill. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Lavinio, the Qreat Duke, Prudentia, 
 Barbarino, Machavil, and others. 
 
 Lav. The Tuscan glory have we yet upheld, 
 And from the fierce assaults of enemies 
 Eescued our cities, set them in a peace 
 As happy as the gods did e'er vouchsafe. 
 Sforza, the Duke of Milain, our old friend, 
 Who hath in all our wars still sent us aid. 
 Hath promised me the matchless Isabella, 
 His sister, for my wife ; and, seeing now 
 We have no more to do with enemies, 
 I will to Milan go, and marry her. 
 And quickly unto Florence will return. 
 Where I will celebrate our nuptial 
 With that magnificence becomes our state. 
 You, whom I ever have found faithful to me, 
 Lord Barbarino and Lord Machavil, 
 To you I do commit the government 
 Of Tuscany until I return, 
 And full commission to do what you shall 
 See necessary for the good of Florence. 
 My dear Prudentia, the only joy 
 Of our deceased father, the last duke. 
 Live happy, and enjoy your own desires, 
 Which I do know are virtuous all. 
 
 Fru. Most noble sir, it is impossible 
 That I should happy be and you not present ; 
 But I am unworthy to beseech your stay. 
 Go ! and be fortunate in a worthy choice, 
 While I to Heaven pray for your safe return. 
 
 Lav. Dear, sweet Prudentia, and also lords, 
 Look well unto my prisoner Brunetto ; 
 Yet let him Avant nothing but a free release. 
 For sure he is more than he seems to be. 
 I have been long about this journey ; now 
 All things are ready. My Prudentia, 
 Farewell ; and, sister, be not melancholy,
 
 122 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 For in few weeks I will return, and bring 
 A sister home to keep thee company, — 
 The beauteous Milainese. 
 
 Pru. And may she prove 
 
 According to your wishes, noble sir ! 
 
 Bar. And be a joy unto the Florentines ! 
 
 Mac. And be a happy mother, that there may 
 Not want an heir unto your highness ! 
 
 Lav. Our thanks. 
 
 Onward ! 'tis time I were upon my way. [Exeunt. 
 
 Bar. Now will I be reveng'd of Trappolin, 
 Who hath so boldly to my face abus'd me ; 
 I have authority to do't withal. 
 I'll make him to repent his sauciness. 
 
 Enter Trappolin. 
 
 He's here ! but I will do 't as if by justice. 
 
 Tra. I can think of nothing but my pretty \-illain 
 Flametta ! 'tis a dear rogue ! and she says she loves 
 me, and I know she does. When I have married her 
 I will betake me to the country, where we will live as 
 jovial as the day is long. 
 
 Enter Mattemores, the SjMnish Captain. 
 
 Mat. I'll fight for Florence while I have a vein 
 To hold my heart from falling unto death ; 
 Nor shall the Longobardy Mantuans 
 E'er win a flag while I am in the field. 
 I'd make the Tuscan duke to know the man 
 Whom he hath trusted to conduct his troops, 
 Durst ])ut Gonzaga ever stir again. 
 Methinks there is no nobler thing on earth 
 Than to see hills of bodies, lakes of blood — 
 No braver music than the martial drum, 
 Nor diapasons sweeter to the ear 
 Than unto it the warlike trumpets make. 
 When I but hear this harmony, I could. 
 Full of delight, venture my single person 
 Against an armed troop. Away with peace ! 
 It is the canker and the bane of minds ;
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 123 
 
 'Tis that which makes us to forget ourselves, 
 
 And spend our lives in sensuality. 
 
 Then glorious war, advance thy armed arm, 
 
 That soldiers may have ways to show themselves ! 
 
 Would Goths and Vandals once again would come 
 
 Int' Italy, or Moors into our Spain, 
 
 That Mattemores might wear out his sword 
 
 With hewing bones and cleaving armed men ! 
 
 Each thing doth to his centre fall, and I 
 
 Would unto mine, which is to fight or die ! 
 
 Who art thou 1 
 
 Tra. I^ 
 
 Mai. Ay, you ! What ! are you too good to be asked 1 
 
 Tra. I am Trappolin ! 
 
 Mat. By that I know not. Art thou a man of war 1 
 Is Trapi^olin in any captain's roll 1 
 Is 't writ ^ 
 
 Tra. Yes, Seignior Captain, in the parson's book. 
 The day thereof my baptism is set down. 
 
 Mat. And in that honour oft hast thou e'er fought 
 With infidels, and slain a score or two 1 
 
 Tra. Not I, heavens be prais'd ! A score or two, said 
 you. Captain 1 Then should I sure never escape, for, 
 I promise you, many an one is hang'd for killing of 
 one. 
 
 Mat. Fie ! what an ignorance is this ! Hast thou a 
 mind to become now a soldier ? 
 
 Tra. Indeed, Seignior Captain, I cannot resolve you 
 as yet. I am about a wife ; I'll ask her if she will turn 
 soldier too, and then, if I like it, there's an end. But 
 I pray you, Captain, what is a soldier 1 
 
 3Iat. A soldier, Trappolin, is he that does 
 Venture liis life a hundred times a day — 
 Would in his country's and his prince's cause 
 Stand cannon shot, and wood of steeled pikes — 
 Would, when his body's full of wounds, all night 
 Lie in the field, and sleep upon his helm. 
 
 Tra. Good Captain, pardon me ! neither I nor Fla- 
 metta will be soldiers. Heavens defend ! Venture 
 my life so many times a day] there is more safety and
 
 124 TRAPPOLIX. 
 
 gain in turning thief ! I love my country and prince 
 well, but myself better. 'Tis good sleeping in a Avliole 
 skin ; 'tis better lying with Flametta in a warm bed ! 
 Marry, I had thought a soldier had not been such a 
 fool ! How many of them might there be in Florence, 
 sir Captain ? 
 
 Mat. Thou coward, many hundreds. 
 
 Tra. The gods send them more wit, that's e'en all 
 that I can say. But I pray you, sir Captain, now I 
 think on 't, persuade my father and mother, sisters, 
 and uncles, and aunts, and all the kin I have, to turn 
 soldiers, that they may be kill'd quickly, and I be 
 their heir. I swear. Captain, you should lose nothing 
 by 't ; I would give you a good present for 't. 
 
 Mat. Base coAvard ! 
 
 Tra. Good Captain, what is the meaning of cov^^ard? 
 I have often heard that word, and would fain know 
 the true meaning of it. 
 
 Mat. A coward is a fellow base as thou, — 
 One that doth spend his precious time in sloth — 
 Cares not what alterations kingdoms have. 
 So he at home may welter in his pleasures ; 
 A fellow that had rather sit all day 
 Drinking tobacco, and carousing cups. 
 Than dye his sword in blood of enemies. 
 
 Tra. Why then. Captain, in faith I am a very 
 coward ; 'tis better by half than a soldier. I know 
 there is far more pleasure in a glass of good wine and 
 a pipe of true Varines than in bullets whizzing about 
 one's ears, and pikes or halberts, or what you Avill, 
 a-beating out one's teeth. 
 
 Mat. Thou dunghill wretch ! 
 
 Tra. Seignior Captain, be not angry, for I vow I 
 mean earnest. I should never digest the soldiery life, 
 nor, am I sure, would Flametta ; and the gods help 
 them that do ! 
 
 Mat. Thou earthen - minded slave, 'tis pity thou 
 shouldst eat or drink that hast no better thoughts ! 
 
 Tra. Not as long as I pay for 't. What the devil 
 have I to do with your soldiery, sir Captain ? Give
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 1 25 
 
 me leave to be of my own mind, and a coward, for 
 I'm sure no wise man but would say as I do ; let those 
 follow your wars that are aweary of their lives. 
 
 Mat. Thou art as dunghill a minded rascal as e'er I 
 heard in my life. I would not for anything thou wast 
 a Spaniard ; thou wouldst be a slander to the whole 
 nation. And, villain, I tell thee if thou wert one I 
 would kill thee ; Mattemores would do it, and so I 
 leave it. [Exit. 
 
 Tra. Farewell, my Sir Don; go hang yourself! 
 What have I to do with your wars, trow 1 For nothing 
 would I venture to fight but Flametta, and for her I 
 durst not exceed about it fisty cuffs, or a bout Avith a 
 little pair of cudgels at the most. I should never 
 endure to shoot off a gun, not I ; the very noise of it 
 would make me endanger my breeches. 
 
 Enter Horatio. 
 
 Brunetto, honest Brunetto ! how dost do 1 Be merry, 
 man ; this time Avill have an end, man, and till it come 
 be as jovial as thou canst. Thou wouldst e'en 'a bless'd 
 thyself to have seen how I vex'd the patience of my 
 Lord Barbarin. 
 
 Hora. You have not, sure 1 
 
 Tra. Marry but I have, and to the purpose too ! 
 
 Hora. Then you are undone, TrappoHn. 
 
 Tra. Why, man I 
 
 Hora. The Duke has left him and the Lord Machavil 
 governors till his return. 
 
 Tra. The devil he has ! 
 
 Hora. 'Tis very true. 
 
 Tra. Troth, then, I am but little better, I fear. 
 
 Enter Officers. 
 
 1 Off. That's he ! 
 
 2 Off. Lay hold on him ! 
 
 Tra. Brunetto, I am undone ! thy Trappolin must 
 to the jail. Pray you, my small friends, give me leave 
 to speak but one word ; remember me to my sugar- 
 candy, Flametta.
 
 12G TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 3 Off. Away with him ! 
 
 4 Off. To prison with the saucy rogue ! [Exeunt. 
 Hora. I came to Mantua to aid the Duke, 
 
 My uncle, 'gainst his foes the Florentines ; 
 
 "Where, hearing every man to praise the beauty 
 
 Of sweet Prudentia, the report did win me. 
 
 Eeiug taken in the wars, I was not sad, 
 
 Because I Avas to go where she did live. 
 
 But seeing so many Princes all desirous 
 
 To marry her, I knew the great Duke never 
 
 "Would bestow her on Savoye's second son ; 
 
 And therefore yet I have concealed myself. 
 
 Nor doth she know I am Horatio : 
 
 For want of opportunity, I yet 
 
 Could ne'er so much as sigh within her hearing. 
 
 Enter Prudentia and Hipolita. 
 
 Hip. The Lady Isabella, by her picture. 
 May be supposed to be a matchless fair one ; 
 Each feature of her face is wondrous good, 
 And her fine head of hair 's a curious colour. 
 
 Pru. In her we shall be happy all, for she. 
 The Avorld reports, hath, equal to her form, 
 A noble and a virtuous mind. Who's that 1 
 
 Hip. He is your brother's prisoner, called Brunetto, 
 That in the wars of Mantua was took. 
 
 Pru. 'Tis a handsome man ! 
 
 Hip. And thought of all the court a gentleman 
 Of good descent ; but he hath not disclosed 
 His parentage to any. 
 
 Pru. Why doth he not ] 
 
 Hip. That no man knows yet besides himself. 
 
 Pru. How melancholy he doth seem ! 
 
 Hip. He hath good cause for it, madam ; 
 Who can be merry in captivity % 
 
 Pru. 'Tis true. 
 A gentleman of good descent suppos'd ? 
 I never saw a man of braver carriage, 
 Nor one that pleas'd me better than he doth. 
 Aha!
 
 TRAPPOLIX. 127 
 
 Hip. Why sigh you, madam 1 
 
 Pru. To think of fortune. Perhaps this prisoner 
 Is of a house as good as the Medicis — 
 He hath lived before the wars of Mantua 
 In all the happiness you could desire ; 
 And now Ave see him thus ! 
 
 Hip. Methinks I hear him sigh, 
 
 Pru. And so do I. 
 
 Hip. He's gone ! [Exit Horatio. 
 
 Pru. But with how sad a gait ! 
 Methinks I am not as I was before. 
 Hipolita ! 
 
 Hip. Madam? 
 
 Pru. Prithee go tune my lute, I have a mind 
 To sing a little ; I shall forget to play 
 If I so seldom use it. 
 
 Hip. I go, madam ! [Exit HiPOLlTA. 
 
 Pra. I have sent her hence that I might search 
 my heart, 
 For sure it is not as it lately was ; 
 It is so full of thoughts, I cannot find 
 The free access into it I had wont. 
 What should the reason be ? what have I done 
 To breed this alteration 1 Notliing I. 
 Ere I came here I felt myself as free 
 From this strange — what it is I cannot tell. 
 The place is not bewitched sure, nor have 
 I seen aught but this hapless prisoner. 
 Alas ! poor gentleman, — for in his looks 
 And in his carriage I can guess him such, — • 
 How little to the fates art thou beholden 
 To let thee live a prisoner thus ! How now 1 
 What is 't I say ?— talk of Brunetto? Oh ! 
 I am in love, the gods will have it so ! [Exit.
 
 128 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Scene ii. 
 
 Enter Barbarino, Machavil, Mattemores, and 
 Officers, leading Trappolin after them. 
 
 Bar. This man, Lord Machavil, is one of those 
 That doth in Florence nourish vice : he is 
 A pander, — one that, if he sees a stranger, 
 Straight makes acquaintance Avith him, for what end 
 Yourself may guess. So he may gain thereby, 
 He would betray our daughters, lead our sons 
 To brothels, vicious and full of rottenness. 
 
 Tra. I Avonder how the devil he came to know any- 
 thing that I did. 
 
 Bar. This writing yesternight was presented to me. 
 Here you may see what enormities he is guilty of. 
 
 Tra. His lordship would shoAV himself a great hater 
 of Ijawdry. 
 
 Mac. 'Tis good we did examine him. 
 
 Mat. And there is not such a coward in Tuscany — 
 He's able to coiTupt an army. 
 
 Tra. Seignior Captain, never fear it, for I ne'er 
 mean to come into one. 
 
 Bar. Bring him before us ! 
 
 Tra. Ah, that I durst tell my lord's excellence why 
 he deals thus with me ! 'Tis for a Aveuch, and yet how 
 eager he is against bawdry ! 
 
 Off. Forward, Trappolin ! go before their excel- 
 lencies. 
 
 Bar. Sirrah ! this paper doth not only show 
 You are a rogue, your looks declare you one ; 
 Thou hast as ill a face as e'er I saw. 
 
 Tra. And yet Flametta think'st as good as his ; 
 I did not lie and if I said a better. 
 
 Mac. Ere we come to this panderism, I'll examine 
 him about other matters. Sir, do you never use to 
 carry pistols about you 1 
 
 Tra. Sometimes, and please your excellence, I do. 
 
 Bar. Write down that, notary.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 129 
 
 Tra. What does your lordship mean ? I did not 
 steal them. 
 
 Mac. I know well enough what I do. Sirrah ! you 
 want to shoot somebody ! 
 
 Tra. Beseech your honour to take me along with 
 you ; I mean money. 
 
 Mac. That's vain ! then, notary, tear it out. 
 
 Bar. Do you ne'er carry other arms neither 1 
 
 Tra. Many times, my lord. 
 
 Bar. Notary, down Avith it ! he shall be talk'd with 
 for that. 
 
 Tra. Your honour is deceiv'd again ; I meant only 
 arms upon seals, or scutcheons from the heralds. 
 
 Mac. This is nothing, notary ; tear it out ! 
 
 Bar. A pimp I'm sure he is. 
 
 Mac. Do you never carry no love-letters, as from a 
 gentleman to a lady, or a gentlewoman to a cavalier, 
 or so % 
 
 Tra. Oh, ver}^ oft, my lord. 
 
 Bar. Do you so, indeed 1 Notary, write it down ! 
 
 Tra. Your honour must understand me ; letters of 
 love, of friendship, — as when a lady Avrites unto her 
 brother at Sienna, a wife to her husband at Pisa, a 
 son to his mother at such a place, a father to his 
 daughter married at such a town. I am often hired, 
 and carry them to the post. 
 
 Mac. Notary, you must tear out this too ! 
 
 Bar. But, sirrah ! to come nearer to the matter, 
 Do you not keep intelligence with whores 1 
 Have you ne'er played the ruffian % By your means 
 Hath no man been provided of a lodging 1 
 
 Tra. This I have no excuse for; the whole city 
 knows me a pimp, [Aside. 
 
 And that it is very nigh my living. 
 
 Mac. What say you, sirrah 1 
 
 Tra. My lords ! I am but a poor fellow, and must live 
 
 Bar. By bawdry 1 
 
 Tra. 'Tis but a friend's part. 
 
 Mac. A wicked one's. Notary, down with this at 
 large !
 
 130 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Tra. Alas, my lord, what hurt is it ? If I helj) a 
 gentleman to a sound wench, where is there any 
 fault 1 Good your honours, consider me ; think not 
 I am a man alone in this business — that many others 
 live by it as well as I. 
 
 Bar. What an impudency is this ! 
 Not only to do ill, but to defend it. 
 Is a transgression exceeds forgiveness. 
 
 Tra. Good my lord, take pity on me ! Well-a-day, 
 what should I do ? I have not only done a favour 
 in it for myself, but also a courtesy for many a 
 gentleman. 
 
 Mac. Do not tear out that, notary. 
 
 Tra. Beseech your honours, let him tear't out ! 
 
 Bar. What shall we do with this villain % 
 
 Mac. Why, let's hang him ! and there's an end of 
 him. 
 
 Tra. That's true, i'faith. Consider, my lords, that 
 never man was put to death for such a matter, but 
 rather that they have been beloved, and well paid by 
 noble men and cavaliers. 
 
 Mac. Had we not best to condemn him to the 
 galleys ? or let's banish him ! 
 
 Bar. Ay, that's the best ! 
 
 Tra. Beseech your honours, pity me ! 
 
 Mac. After to-morrow, Trappolin, if thou be'st seen 
 in Florence thou shalt die — be hang'd ! we banish thee 
 for term of life ! therefore prepare against to-morrow 
 to be gone. 
 
 Tra. Pray your honours ! 
 
 Bar. Notary, write down he's banish'd ! 
 
 Mac. You rogue, it is irrevocable, and therefore 
 make you ready. 
 
 Tra. I think I am the first man that ever was 
 banish'd for such a matter. Were all of my profession 
 in the city served so, I think we should make an 
 army royal of us. 
 
 Bar. This matter is concluded, Trappolin ; 
 Go, seek your fortune ! My Lord Machavil, 
 We may depart. [Exeunt.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 131 
 
 Mat. Thou man of dirt, hadst thou a soldier been, 
 This banishment had never been pronounc'd. 
 
 Tra. But, sir Captain ! I fear I should have been 
 kill'd, which is worse. 
 
 Mat. If for thy country, 't had been a noble death. 
 
 Tra. I had rather live. Captain, than die nobly. 
 
 Mat. Thou man compos'd of sand, in vain I spend 
 My breath to talk Avith such a slave as thou ; 
 Go and be hang'd ! for so thou dost deserve, 
 And might I judge thee, it should be thy end. [Exit. 
 
 Tra. Thou brazen-headed coxcomb, mayst thou go 
 to the devil with a drum before thee ! I had as lief 
 be banish'd out of my country, and walk in peace, as 
 be out on 't in the Avars. 
 
 Enter HoRATio. 
 
 Brunetto ! Brunetto ! I must leave thee ! I must 
 begone, man, to-morroAv. FareAvell, Florence ! 
 
 Mora. Why, what's the matter, Trappolin 1 
 
 Tra. AVhy, I have banish'd the Lord Barberino, 
 and the Lord Machavil. 
 
 Hora. HoAv ^ you banish'd them 1 
 
 Tra. They have banish'd me, or I them — 'tis all 
 one ; ordered aAvay, and the devil a bit a money I 
 have. Hast thou a mind to a Avench, Brunetto % Or 
 if thou hast no mind to one, knoAvest thou anybody 
 that has ] I'd fain be earning a little money. 
 
 Hora. I wish thee Avell. Live honest, Trappolin, 
 And so thou shalt be sure to prosper better. 
 This ring I give thee ; sell it, and the money 
 Spend to maintain thee. 
 
 Tra. Honest Brunetto ! faith. 
 An' ere I can I Avill requite thee fully. 
 Farewell ! I must also take my leave 
 Of my Flametta ! We shall cry together, 
 Like unto schoolboys that are to be whipt. \_Exit. 
 
 Hora. Alas, poor simple Trappolin ! I pity 
 Thy fortune, yet 'tis better far than mine ! 
 Of all mankind I am most miserable, 
 And lead a life Avould make a soul prove mortal ;
 
 132 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Yet do I not repine. Most dear Prudentia ! 
 I never can endure enough for thee, 
 So that at last I may attain my wishes. 
 There *s not a grief mankind did ever suffer, 
 Nor pain, I would not pass to make thee mine ! 
 Thou art the centre of my wishes ;- — all 
 Horatio's thoughts upon thy beauty fall ! 
 
 Enter Prudentia. 
 
 Pru. heavens, be merciful ! and if I tell 
 Him I am his, let him say he is mine ! 
 I have a fire within my breast must out — 
 Longer I cannot hide it ! If he now 
 Does not woo me, I shall solicit him. 
 How sad a pace he walks ! how melancholy 
 Does he look ! Love compels us unto things 
 In others we would scorn. I'll speak unto him, 
 Because I fear he dares not unto me. 
 Brunetto ! 
 
 Hora. Divinest lady ! 
 
 Pm. I thought a gentleman, for so I guess you. 
 Could have endured affliction better far. 
 That in the wars durst venture so his person. 
 
 Hora. Most excellent Princess, many thousand men 
 Can suffer well the dangers of a battle ; 
 But there are few, or none at all, that can 
 Bear out the passions of a mind afflicted. 
 
 Pru. Then you are discontent. Alas ! you long for 
 Your liberty ; and, truth, I cannot blame you. 
 
 Hora. Then should I hate myself, being a slave to 
 one 
 Whom I desire evermore to serve. 
 Ye that command the destinies of men, 
 Now let me die, and if I shall not prosper ! 
 Know, noblest lady ! that the prisoner 
 That speaks unto you is a Prince by birth. 
 I am Horatio, second son unto 
 The Duke of Savoy, and the Piedmont Prince. 
 At Mantua the fame of your perfections 
 Captiv'd my soul ; and when that I was took
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 133 
 
 I did account myself a happy man, 
 
 Being to go where you did live. I know, 
 
 Most dearest Princess, that I am unworthy 
 
 So great a happiness as is your love ; 
 
 Yet if you deny me — witness Heaven ! — 
 
 I never will return to Turin, 
 
 But here die languishing for your refusal. 
 
 The Duke, my father, soon would pay my ransom ; 
 
 But thraldom, for your sake, I have esteemed 
 
 Above liberty and pleasures of a court ! 
 
 Pru. My thanks, most gracious heavens ! Bru- 
 netto is 
 A Prince ! Most worthy, brave Horatio, 
 I scorn to dally with my happiness, 
 Like some that love to counterfeit their joys ! 
 Know I do love thee dear as my o^^m soul. 
 And that, if thou hadst now been silent, I 
 My heart unto thee had disclosed. Live happy ! 
 And, if it in my power lies, thou shalt ! 
 
 Horn. Douljt, fear, despair, begone ! I am a man 
 That envy not the blessed lives of Kings ! 
 Now she hath deign'd to say these happy words, 
 I care not though all mankind threaten me. 
 Most excellent and mercifullest lady, 
 Y 'ave raised me to a joy beyond my thoughts ! 
 May all the gods requite you for this goodness, 
 And I wear out my life to do you service ! 
 
 Pru. My dear Horatio, enough ! I doubt not 
 Thy affection 's equal unto mine. We "\vill 
 Love while we live ; and may we die forgotten 
 When we do cease to love ! Say I not Avell 1 
 
 Hora. Admired Princess, you outspeak me much, 
 But never shall outlove me ! 
 
 Pru. Heavens be kind ! 
 And make us in two bodies have one mind. \_Exeunt.
 
 ] 34 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Act II. — Scene i. 
 
 Enter Trappolin, solus. 
 
 Tra. This banish' cl life is very doleful ! I walk I 
 know not whither, and every step I go Flametta 
 comes into my mind. I think how she cried when 
 we parted, and swore that she would go too ; and 
 certainly so she would, if I had not told her she was 
 not banish'd, and might not. Farewell, my true Fla- 
 metta ! and the devil take the two scurvy lords Bar- 
 barino and Machavil ; for Captain Mattemores, he is 
 a prattling ass. But, by my conscience, he could 
 ne'er ha' turn'd me loose for such a matter. Farewell, 
 my draughts of Montefiascone, and Bologna sausages ! 
 Methinks this is a very melancholy place — I have not 
 seen a living body these two hours but they had 
 wings or four legs. Let me bethink me whither to 
 betake myself, for in Tuscany stay I must not. I'd 
 to Rome and turn friar if I had any Latin in me. 
 There is nothing of Milain or Naples, without I mean 
 to turn soldier for one dinner a day. Farewell, all 
 my good suppers I Avas wont to have ! the wenches I 
 help'd gentlemen to ! Venice— ay, that's the likeliest 
 place of all ; and there I'll follow my own trade — 
 I love to be fing'ring of Mons and Polax ryals. 
 Well, then, I'll to Venice, and turn pimp ; it is a 
 good, gainful life in Italy, full of ease and pleasure — 
 especially if the flesh be young and handsome. Me- 
 thinks I hear a bustling in yon trees : I hope it be 
 not a thief, for then I shall lose the ring Brunetto 
 gave me, and may go hang myself Yon's an old 
 man ; and he be one I care not, for sure I shall be 
 good enough for him. 
 
 Enter Mago, a conjuror. 
 
 Mago. Son, you are banish'd ; I know all the matter. 
 Tra. 'Tis true, old friend ; I am indeed ! But how 
 the devil came you to know it %
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 1 35 
 
 Mago. Why, the devil told me ! 
 
 Tra. Alas, that e'er I was born ! I pray you, 
 father conjuror, do not hurt me ! 
 
 Mago. Son Trappolin, I am so far from hurting 
 thee, that thee I do intend to make a Prince. 
 
 Tra. I pray you, pardon me, father conjuror; I 
 have no mind to domineer or swagger in hell. 
 
 Mago. You understand me not : thou shalt return 
 to Florence. 
 
 Tra. And be hanged there for my labour. 
 
 Mago. Be honoured there, and be suppos'd the 
 Duke, who now in Milain is about his wife. 
 
 Tra. Faith, if you can bring this about, father 
 conjuror, I should laugh indeed. But suppose it 
 could be done, when his Highness comes woe be to 
 my neck ! 
 
 Mago. No fear at all. Leave all to me, and but 
 remember what I say, and thou art safe. 
 
 Tra. Faith, I know not what to think of this, but 
 conjurors can do much. 
 
 Mago. I'll do it, never doubt. Come near to me ! 
 "Within this circle go, and do not fear though thou 
 seest devils skip about thee. 
 
 Tra. Father conjuror, farewell ! I'd rather live 
 in banishment than see the devil. 
 
 Mago. Thou silly fellow, do not fear ! In this, 
 Myriads of fiends dare not, nor can they, hurt thee. 
 Here thou shalt stand as safe from any danger 
 As ever thou didst yet in any place. 
 Think'st thou I have so little power over spirits 
 As they dare disobey what I command 1 
 Tell me thy wish, and, if thou hast it not, 
 Before thy face I'll sink away with fear. 
 Give me thy hand, and come ! 
 
 Tra. Father conjuror, i' faith I wish nothing more 
 than what you have promised me already. Could that 
 be done, I need ne'er be a jiander again. 
 
 Mago. Why do you stay % 
 
 Tra. Shall I be safe ? 
 
 Mago. As free from peril as you can desire.
 
 136 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Tra. Why, then, I'll venture, being for such a matter. 
 But, honest father conjuror, if for fear I chance 
 To die, let not your devils take my body. 
 
 Mago. Come, do not fear at all ! there is no need. 
 
 Tra. I will venture ; but I pray you let not the 
 devils come too near me. 
 
 Mago. You that below frequent the Stygian lake, 
 And in Cocytus' waves do bathe yourselves — 
 You that upon the strands of Phlegeton 
 Do use to walk, attend unto my charms — 
 Appear ! I charge thee to appear, thou fiend ! 
 Thou that over man's head power hast, appear ! 
 Eo, thou spirit, come ! 
 
 Tra. Good father conjuror, 
 Let not the devils be too ugly, lest 
 I jilay the sloven, and annoy your nose. 
 
 Mago. Fear not ! 
 
 Tra. Honest master conjuror, yonder comes your 
 devil. Praj^ you circle me once more, for I'm afraid 
 he'll be too bold with me. 
 
 Mago. Not all the fiends that are in hell can do 
 The least annoyance to thee, Trappolin ; 
 Thou art safe, and so believe thou art. Come, Eo ! 
 Give me that hat enchanted. 
 
 Eo. Here it is ! 
 Command me aught else 1 
 
 Mago. No, vanish now ! 
 Son Trap., observe me well. This hat 
 Keep always on thy head ; 'tis Eo call'd — 
 One of the things will make thee thought a Prince. 
 
 Tra. 'Tis none of the handsomest ; mine 's of a 
 better block. I think some Naples devil made it, 
 'tis so high-crowned ; one that saw me in this would 
 rather think me a fool than a Duke. 
 
 Mago. Meo, thou spirit of magic glass, aj^pear ! 
 I charge thee in dread Pluto's name to come ! 
 
 Tra. More devils yet ! Is the circle sure, father 
 conjuror? and 't be not, I pray you take an order 
 with it ; I have no mind at all to venture myself 
 against the devil.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 137 
 
 Mago. Have I not told thee thou art safe 1 Fear not ! 
 
 Tra. Yonder 's another devil ; I think of Moran, 
 for he brings a looking-glass with him. 
 
 Mago. Deliver it ! Begone ! 
 
 Tra. I thank you for it, besworn ; for in good 
 earnest, father conjuror, I would have as little the 
 company of your devils as is possible. 
 
 Mago. But before I give you this mirror, son, 
 Receive this powder, by magic art compos'd 
 And secret spells ! He upon whom thou flingest it, 
 It hath such hidden virtue in it, will 
 Be took by all for Trappolin. 
 
 Tra. For me ? 
 
 Mago. Yes, certainly, for thee. 
 
 Tra. Say you so % Why then, i' faith, with all my 
 heart give it me. I swear unto you, old father, 
 the very best man in Tuscany shall be Trappolin. 
 
 Mago. Here, put it up and keep it safe. 
 
 Tra. And I do not, hang me ! 
 
 Mago. Now, are you ready for the looking-glass 1 
 
 Tra. I am very ready indeed. 
 
 Mago. Son Trappolin, this looking-glass was 
 wrought 
 In the deep caverns of the dark abyss, 
 Compos'd of the mud of Phlegeton, 
 And with the blood of tortur'd miscreants ! 
 It is a mirror I have studied long. 
 And now have brought unto perfection. 
 This upon thee I do bestow, a gift 
 Such as the crowns of Emjjerors could not buy. 
 
 Tra. And yet, father conjuror, I have seen half a 
 dozen better sold for a pistole. 
 
 Mago. They were the work of mortals. When 
 thou hast 
 A cloak I'll give thee too, but look in this, 
 And thou shalt see thyself the Duke ; and if, 
 When he returns again, thou meetest him, — 
 But throw the powder on him first, — and he 
 Begins to rage, bid him look in 't, and it 
 Will show him the reflection of thee.
 
 138 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Tra. Say you so ] "N\Tiy, then, give me the glass ! 
 
 Mago. Here ! stand still ! I Avill now raise up the 
 fiend 
 That hath the cloak which I have promised thee. 
 
 Tra. Father conjuror, as you love your son Trap- 
 polin, give me another 
 Circle or two, for I promise you I fear this almost 
 worn out. 
 
 Mago. Still thou dost fear % Be bold and confident ; 
 Hell cannot hurt thee as thou stand'st. 
 
 Trap. "Why, then, let him come ! 
 
 Mago. In Proserpine's dread name, our sovereign 
 queen, 
 Areo, I do charge thee to appear ! 
 Thus, by the waft of this enchanted wand, 
 I do command thee, fiend, unto this place ! 
 
 Trap. No more, father conjuror ! hold ! here conies 
 the devil ! He's a tailor in hell fire, for he brings 
 a cloak. 
 
 Areo. Thou against whom fierce Cerberus dares not 
 bark, 
 Here is the cloak, which, to obey thy will. 
 We, that thy servants are, have made. 
 
 Mago. 'Tiswell! 
 Begone ! I license thy depart. This cloak. 
 Son Trappolin, doth perfect thee the Duke. 
 
 Trap. I know not, but, on my conscience, the 
 poorest of his Highness' servants ne'er wear a worse. 
 It seems to me to have been made of these miserable 
 thefts of a beggarly tailor, 'tis of so many colours ; and 
 for the fashion of it, by your leave, father conjuror, 
 'tis very clownish, and somethmg inclining to the 
 fool's fashion. 
 
 Mago. Thy words, son Trappolin, are vain. Those 
 counts 
 And marquesses that swagger it in gold 
 Shall not appear so glorious to the eyes 
 Of men as thou in this. 
 
 Tra. Father conjuror, I'll be rul'd by you; put 
 on !
 
 TRAPPOLIX. 139 
 
 Mago. Thou art the great Duke now in show ; the 
 wisest 
 Judgments will believe thee so. Now take the glass 
 and see thyself in 't. 
 
 Trajx Beseech your Highness, pardon me ! I am 
 A poor subject of yours, for a small matter 
 Banish'd by envious lords. 
 
 Mago. Why, Trappolin, what folly is this ? 
 
 Tra. Besworn to you, father, I thought I saw his 
 Highness, and was a begging to be pardoned. 
   Mago. Away with ignorance ! 'twas thy reflexion. 
 As thou didst seem unto thyself, so thou 
 Shalt likewise to the Avorld appear. Now, mark 
 
 me ! 
 Not one of these can make thee like the Duke ; 
 They altogether do. Ne'er leave them off _ 
 Without thou art secure ; for, one but missing, 
 Thou wilt appear thyself. The hat is call'd 
 After the devil's name that brought it, Eo ; 
 The looking-glass, Meo ; the cloak, Areo ; 
 And there are fiends within them. 
 
 Tra. Father conjuror, I thank you for your kind- 
 ness ; take all your ware again 1 Carry so many 
 devils about me ? so I shall be sure to be carried to 
 the devil by 'em ! 
 
 Mago. Suspect no hurt ; they can as well destroy 
 Their immortality as do thee harm. 
 
 Tra. Why, then, honest father conjuror, I'll ven- 
 ture myself among them. But I swear unto you, if 
 they begin to stir, I'll e'en fling them all away without 
 more ado. 
 
 Mago. Farewell, son Trappolin ! return to Florence, 
 And flourish in the pleasures of the Court ; 
 Other affairs command me to be gone. 
 Give me thy hand ! Farewell, son Trappolin ! 
 
 Tra. Be not so hasty, my dear old father! one 
 word before you go. How shall I say that I bring 
 not my Duchess with me, but come alone % 
 
 Mago. AV'hy, anything— what you will. 
 
 Tra. I'll make 'em believe, then, that I licensed her
 
 140 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 to stay as long as she pleases, and that I came alone 
 to see how they governed in my absence. 
 
 Mago. 'Twill do ! Now, have you done with me ? 
 
 Tra. I have. I thank you for all your things here. 
 Fare you well, honest father conjuror ! \_Ezit Mago. 
 
 Tra. Now, Trappolin is no more Trappolin. 
 What I am in my glass I'll look again — 
 The great Duke ! Ha ! 'tis well — 'tis very well ! 
 This scurvy cloak doth seem his gallant one, 
 And this base hat his Highness' beaver ; my face, 
 My body, legs, and all seem changed ; — i' faith, 
 The conjuror is a wondrous learned fellow. 
 You scoundrel lords that banish'd me, I'll make 
 Sport with your scurvy honours, that I will ! 
 Eo, Meo, and Areo, attend 
 Unto your offices well, and guard your friend ! 
 
 Scene ii. 
 
 Enter Sforza, the Duhe of Milain ; Hortentia, the 
 Ihichess ; Isabella, Ms sister; Lavinio, the Great 
 Duke ; with Attendants. 
 
 Sf(yr. Most noble brother, — for so the temple rites 
 Of Hymen done do license me to call you, — 
 Honour our entertainment one half hour 
 Longer, and we will leave you with your bride. 
 
 La/0. Great Prince ! the glories you have done me 
 here 
 I leave to future chronicles to tell ; 
 And still you do increase them ! Sure no man 
 In Milain ever did receive such honours. 
 You always shall command me. 
 
 Sfor. Sir, we deserve no compliments ; we have 
 Our wishes if you but rest satisfied 
 Of our good meaning. 
 
 La-v. Most gracious madam ! the Roman Emperors 
 Would have wondered at your Court had they but 
 known it.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 141 
 
 Which of them all would not have bless'd his fates 
 For the fruition of so rich a beauty 
 As is the matchless Lady Isabella ] 
 
 Isa. Sir! of your own you may say what you 
 please, 
 But I am sure you overjjraise me much. 
 
 Lav. Dearest of all the world ! thou dost deserve 
 Princes and poets both to speak thy worth ! 
 Bless'd be the powers divine, that me of all 
 Mankind did choose to make most fortunate 
 In giving me the glory of the earth ! 
 
 Sfor. Sit down, most noble brother ! from your 
 bride 
 We will not part you. Sister, this place is yours. 
 So let them now begin ! 
 
 Enter Hymen, Luna, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, 
 Venus, Saturn, Sol, after music 
 
 Hym. Hither we are descended from above, 
 To gratulate your nobly-grounded love, 
 That you, most worthy happy pair, should know 
 The gods themselves are pleased with what you do. 
 Me you have honoured, and to honour you 
 I have brought the deities along which do 
 Command and rule the days, that they may bless 
 You all the year with plenteous happiness! 
 May Tuscany's cities boast of Milain's spouse ; 
 And future ages, when they would compose 
 One grac'd with all the virtues, her express 
 To be a lady like this Milainess. 
 And may the most ingenious Florentines, 
 Your citizens, great Duke, busy their minds 
 In Avriting and in singing marriage songs, 
 Delectable epithalamiums ! 
 While you do live, love ever ; and may you 
 Continually your generous heats renew. 
 Thus Hymen wishes, and it will go hard 
 If what a god says gods do not regard.
 
 U2 TRAPPOLIN, 
 
 Thus I could spend the night, but that would prove 
 A wrong unto my rites and to your love ! 
 
 Here they dance, and Hymen leads it. 
 
 Lima. Cynthia I am, that with my borrowed light 
 Outshine the stars, and do command the night ! 
 JVIany a time, when else I veil'd would ride, 
 I will appear to see you wdth your bride. 
 Lamps nor wax-lights you shall not need, for I 
 Instead of them will evermore be by ; 
 And may you, in this life you have begun. 
 Equal in love me and Endymion. 
 
 Mars. Though my aspect be fierce, and wars pre- 
 sage, 
 To you they shall be such as lovers wage, — 
 Sweet kisses, soft embraces, and such things 
 As amorous Queens enjoy and amorous Kings. 
 You therefore, Avithout pity, both may fight 
 Battles, not full of danger, but delight ; 
 And may they last until I part you two, 
 Which I do promise I will never do ! 
 
 Mer. Hermes I am, Maja's wing'd son, and shine 
 Among the planets in a globe of mine ; 
 And though 'tis true I favour thefts and sleights, 
 Yet will do none t' diminish your delights. 
 Love, therefore, laugh, and kiss, embrace, and be 
 Secure — nothing can hurt you without me ; 
 And if I ever do, may I forego 
 My sphere, and live among the fiends below ! 
 
 Jup. Of all the gods and goddesses I am 
 The most supreme, and bear the chiefest name. 
 For love, what is it that I have not done, 
 To bring my wishes to conclusion'? 
 I for myself have done no more than I 
 Will do for you to make you live in joy ! 
 Therefore, most happy pair of lovers, fear 
 Nothing, since Jove himself doth hold you dear! 
 Live merrily, and let this be your mover, 
 That Jupiter himself was once a lover!
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 1 43 
 
 A Song. 
 Ten. Since in my orb I shined fair, 
 And lovers did befriend, 
 The morning and the evening star, 
 
 I never could command, 
 Heaven-blessed pair, none like to you, 
 Whom time shall never make untrue ! 
 
 May Hesperus and Vesper lose 
 
 Their lights, fair Venus fall, 
 If all her power she doth not use 
 
 To prosper you withal ! 
 May other deities grant you life, 
 I'll make you loving man and wife ! 
 
 Sat. Though I am old and rigid in aspect 
 And cold, and youthful sports do not affect — 
 And though my influences many ways 
 Adverse to others be, and cross their days — 
 For you, heaven-loved pair, myself I'll force. 
 And run a milder and a gentler course ; 
 His ancient custom Saturn will forget, 
 Rise for your jjleasures, for your pleasures set^ 
 Doubt me not, therefore, for my vow is strong, 
 That for your sakes again I wish me young. 
 
 Sol. Phoebus I am, the glorious guide of day, 
 That all the planets lighten with my ray. 
 I am the brightsome, lightsome charioteer, 
 That heaven and earth adorn within my sphere ; 
 And know what 'tis to be in love, since I 
 Followed my Daphne, who from me did fly. 
 May I lose all my glory, all my beams 
 Fall like my Phaethon int' ocean streams. 
 If all my faculties I do not try 
 To make you live in joy, and love enjoy. 
 In summer time, when you int' arbours go, 
 I will not shine to trouble you below ; 
 Will only peep to see you kiss and smile, 
 To make me think, this I have done erewhile. 
 In winter season, when the frost doth stay, 
 And hinder rivers to go on their way —
 
 144 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 When flakes of snow do cover earth's green face, 
 I for your sakes will thaw off both apace. 
 In pleasures evermore you shall accord ; 
 Apollo cannot falsify his word. 
 
 Here they dance anotJier dance, which Hymen leads. 
 
 Hym. The gracious planets, which command the days 
 By powerful influences, you have heard, 
 To bless you both according to their ways, 
 
 Vowing to be your keepers and your guard. 
 Them for your sakes with me I brought along. 
 
 That they might prosper you as well as I ; 
 Because this marriage knot I'd tie so strong. 
 
 That it there nothing ever should untie. 
 You whom the heavens will prosj)er all your 
 life. 
 You whom on earth there's nothing can 
 off"end — 
 Most happy pair, most happy man and wife. 
 
 Your lives in love wear out, and in love end. 
 Nor shall a poet, hired for his gain, 
 
 Uj)on your tomb a feigned verse engrave ; 
 Men's tongues and tears shall make you both 
 remain 
 Above the power of an epitaph. 
 But may you live till you aweary be, 
 
 Not of youselves, but of these earthly sports ; 
 And the eternal joys above would see, 
 
 AVhich ever are in Jove's immortal courts. 
 Thus unto you do gods their wishes give. 
 And unto them may you according live ! 
 
 [Exeunt Maskers. 
 Sfor. I think, Hortentia, now the mask is done, 
 Our brother gladly would go to his rest. 
 
 Hort. And it is time. Most noble brother, when 
 You please, we will attend you to your chamber ; 
 And, sister, we will see you laid in bed. 
 Methinks it is a very pretty thing 
 To see a virgin bride look pale and blush. 
 
 Isa. 'Tis sport to others, to the maid 'tis none.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 145 
 
 Lav. Most excellent Princess, when you please, let's 
 
 For now each minute is as tedious to me 
 As years have been, so much I do desire 
 The chaste embraces of my matchless spouse. 
 
 Sfor. And, worthy friend, let us entreat your stay 
 As long in Milain as is possible ; 
 You cannot be in Florence more beloved. 
 Nor by the better nor the meaner sort. 
 
 Lav. What I can do you know you may command 
 Unto my utmost power. 
 
 Hort. Lights! 
 
 Lav. My fairest, dearest love, your hand ! This part 
 Of happiness makes me suppose the rest. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene hi. 
 
 Enter Mattemores. 
 
 Mat. Those lazy times that do degenerate minds, 
 And breed new thoughts in most heroic hearts. 
 By noble spirits are to be abhorr'd, 
 And loathed as the ruin of their souls. 
 Whilst I did follow the triumphant war 
 Through fire and blood, I was a happy man ; 
 I thought no pleasure was a parallel 
 To the loud cry of mortal-wounded foes. 
 But now I am transformed from myself; 
 Hipolita hath charm'd me with a look. 
 May I but hear her speak, how I rejoice ! 
 May I but hear her sing, I think me blest ! 
 0, how my heart's ashamed of my tongue, 
 "WHiich never until now effeminate thoughts 
 Could win upon ! 0, would to heaven this lady 
 Were but a man, and circled round with death, 
 That I might kill her and release myself ! 
 Or were slie like the warlike Amazon, 
 With whom renowned Theseus did contend. 
 That with my honour I might challenge her 
 
 K
 
 146 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 For an enchanter and a witch ! How fondly 
 And foolishly I rave ! Strongest resolutions 
 A woman's powerful beauty doth destroy; 
 He that can conjure men, unpeople towns, 
 Cover the sea with fleets, drink rivers dry 
 With armed squadrons he conducts to fight. 
 Whom potent Monarchs fear, and Emperors wish 
 To make their friend, a lady's smile or eye 
 Subdues above resistance, and makes die. 
 
 Enter Horatio and Prudentia. 
 
 Hora. Most dearest, worthiest Princess, I am blest 
 Above the proudest of my former wishes ! 
 Your love to me was like a thing desired, 
 But far from expectation ; as men 
 Forlorn and wretched, being content to die, 
 And sure to suff"er, wish to live, although 
 They fully do despair of life. Of late 
 Even so was it with me : I lov'd you 
 Above my life's expression, but did ever 
 Despair the blessedness of such an honour. 
 
 Fru. My dear Horatio, I cannot speak 
 So Avell as you, but I can love as truly. 
 
 Mat. A strange discovery ! I will retire 
 More close, and hear the rest. 
 
 Pru. And, noble sir. 
 Because I know my brother, the great Duke, 
 Will not at all or scarce allow this match, 
 I will with you, whensoever you command, 
 Leave Florence, and what fortune it shall please 
 The gods to send us bear with cheerfulness. 
 
 Hora. Excellent, merciful Prudentia ! 
 I must pray Heaven make you a full requital. 
 For I shall ever be unable. 
 
 Pru. I cannot stay longer with you now; 
 At our next meeting I'll cloy you with 
 My company. A kiss ! 
 Farewell, my heart's best pleasure ! [Exit PRUDENTIA. 
 
 Hora. Let others travel Italy all over, 
 To talk of such a city, such a place, —
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 147 
 
 Go to magnificent and holy Rome, 
 Once the sole empress of the conquered world ; 
 To Venice rich, commanding, politic ; 
 Unto sweet Naples, plenteous in ability ; 
 Unto great Milain ; unto fat Bologna ; 
 Civil Ferrara, Ariosto's town ; 
 Strong-walled Padua, which Antenor built, 
 The Trojan prince, and Titus Livius fames 
 For his nativity and sepulchre ; 
 To subtle Bergamo, most highly honoured 
 For near relation to Torc[uato Tasso ; 
 To proud and stately Genoa, renown'd 
 By her seafaring citizen Colombo ; 
 Worthy Verona, old Catullus' city ; 
 Bloody Peruggia, warlike Bessia ; 
 Glorious Mantua, Virgilius Maro's birth-place ; 
 Good Rimini, iron Pistoya; 
 Fine-languag'd Sienna, and industrious Lucca ; 
 Odd-humour'd Forly, honest old Ravenna ; 
 Ill-aired Simegallia ; Capua, 
 Effeminate and amorous, wherein 
 The Carthaginian captain's soldiers were 
 Spoil'd and debauch'd with pleasures; Pisa hang- 
 ing ; 
 Pesaro, a garden of best fruits ; Ancona 
 Prais'd for the Port Loyal ; and true Urbino, 
 Round Ascoli, long Recanati, built 
 LTpon a steep hill's ridge ; Foligno, full 
 Of sugry* streets, among the Apennine ; 
 Faro, for handsome women most extoll'd ; 
 And Modena, happiest of them all, — 
 From beauteous, comely Florence, when I part 
 Without Prudentia, thunder strike my heart ! [Exit. 
 
 Mat. A gallant resolution ! For the man, 
 I cannot blame him ; but the Princess, she 
 To look so low and dote upon a slave. 
 Seems very strange and full of wonder to me. 
 Had Deli)hian oracles, ever ador'd 
 For uttering truth, spoke this, I should have doubted ; 
 * Soft clayey streets ?
 
 148 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 She whom we thought a saint, a pattern for nuns, 
 
 Thus to forget herself ! it cloth amaze me. 
 
 women, I could rage against the sex ! 
 
 And, lov'd I not Hipolita, I would. 
 
 She cannot hear me, and I needs must speak 
 
 A word or two. They are all false, and fickle all, 
 
 The poison of men's happiness ; within. 
 
 Though they are fair -without, most full of sin. 
 
 Enter Barbarino and Machavil. 
 
 Bar. Good morrow, Captain Mattemores ! 
 
 Mac. How do you. Captain 1 
 
 Mat. Your honour's humble slave ! I am well, but 
 sad ; 
 And so had all the court good cause to be. 
 Did they but know so much as I. 
 
 Bar. Why, Captain, 
 WTiat's the matter ? 
 
 Mat. Til not be silent, for her honour's sake. 
 Prudentia, the Princess, is in love. 
 With Avhom do you suppose, my lords ] 
 
 Mac. I think with none, for we all know she yet 
 Hath slighted Modena's and Parma's Duke, 
 And seem'd careless of mankind. 
 
 Mat. Alas! 
 She were most happy were it one of them ; 
 It is Brunetto she's in love withal. 
 
 Bar. How? 
 
 Mac. Impossible ! 
 
 Mat. It is a thing most true ; my eyes and ears 
 Have seen and heard it while I stood unseen. 
 
 Mac. You amaze us ! 
 
 Bar. It is a thing I never should have thought. 
 Though spent my life in fond imaginations. 
 
 Mat. As I have seen an amorous cloud receive 
 A stately hill into her lovely breast. 
 And of his lofty head our eyes bereave, 
 And seem to lull his senses unto rest — 
 So did the scornful lady deign to leave 
 All her majestic state ; and, sore opprest
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 149 
 
 With inward flames, her eager arms she cast 
 About his neck, kiss'd and embrac'd him fast. 
 
 Bar. Wonders ! 
 
 Mac. How the great Duke will rage ! 
 
 Mat. And do you not, my lords, in time prevent 
 them, 
 They'll steal away, I fear ; for so she vow'd, 
 When he but said the word, she Avould. 
 
 Mac. By his imi^risonment we'll hinder that. 
 
 Enter Horatio. 
 
 Bar. Here is the man we spake of ! 
 Mac. For the Princess' honour let us keep it close 
 As possible we can. You of the guard ! 
 
 Enter the Guard. 
 
 Bar. Seize on Brunetto, carry him to prison ! 
 Bid Puchannello keep liim safe ! 
 'Tis our pleasures. 
 
 Hora. What violence is this ? 0, had I been suffered 
 to Avear a sword, some of you should pay dearly for it ! 
 
 Mac Away with him ! 
 
 [Exeunt the Guard with Horatio. 
 
 Mat. My lords, you have done wisely to prevent 
 So great a dishonour as might have ensu'd — 
 Tainted the family of the Medicis, 
 Aiid been a lasting sorrow to the Duke. 
 
 Enter Trappolin. 
 
 Bar. His Highness is returned. 
 
 Mac. Great sir ! upon our knees we welcome you. 
 You come unlook'd for ; Ave did not expect 
 This happy time so soon by fourteen days. 
 Where is our Duchess 1 
 
 Tra. Your Duchess Avill not come till the gods knoAV 
 AAdien, for I do not : I have given her leave to stay as 
 long as she Avill. But besworn, I fear you hai'e 
 gOA^erned but scurvily in my absence ; I hear that 
 you have banished an honest poor man call'd Trap- 
 polin ; is it true %
 
 150 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Mac. So please your Highness, he deserv'd no less. 
 
 Tra. Why, what hurt had he done 1 Had he 
 knocked anyliody on the head 1 What was his fault ] 
 
 Bar. He was a pander, and corrupted youth. 
 
 Ti'a. You lie, sirrah! not panders but whores do 
 that, and not they neither if they be sound. Banish 
 one of my subjects for such a matter 1 Besides, were 
 there no more in Florence but he 1 
 
 Mac. Be not displeased, we humbly pray your 
 Highness, 
 For we did think we did it for the best. 
 
 Mat. I wonder at our Duke in this. 
 
 Tra. Well, I am very weary. I left all my train 
 behind Avith my wife, and rid as fast as I could drive, 
 that I might come unlooked for, the better to see 
 how you behaved yourselves ; which you have done 
 bad enough. When I was almost at Florence, a saucy 
 varlet robbed me and stole my horse from me, so 
 that I was beholding to my legs to bring me hither. 
 Barberino and Machavil, come you hither both of you ! 
 
 Mac. AVhat is your Highness' pleasure 1 
 
 Tra. Sirrah Barberino ! hold by Mach.'s breeches, 
 and stoop, for on thy back I will ride to my palace. 
 
 Bar. I'll go fetch a coach for your Highness. 
 
 Tra. The devil take your coaches ! Stoop, I say, 
 without more ado ! Where is your obedience 1 
 
 Mat. I think the Duke's run mad, or foxt soundly 
 at the least. I know not what to think of this. 
 
 Tra. You, sirrah Don ! run by my side ; supply my 
 lackey's office. Wonder not, but obey ! 
 
 Mat. There is no remedy. Heaven be merciful ! I 
 think his Highness ran mad for fear when he was 
 robbed. 
 
 Tra. Now on, and do not loiter ! 
 Thus, like the Roman Emperors, will I ride 
 To triumph through Florence. Stumble not, you had 
 
 best. 
 Chariots them carried, a Tuscan noble me : mine is 
 
 the statelier and the braver way. 
 Eo, Meo, and Areo, thanks !
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 151 
 
 3[af. He jeers us, and miscalls us, 
 Tra. On apace ! 
 That I may quickly be in my palace. [Exeunt omnes. 
 
 Act III. — Scene i. 
 
 Enter Horatio, in prison. 
 
 Horct. Unto the man enthrall'd, black and obscure 
 Is the clear beauty of the Inightest day ; 
 Through iron grates he only sees the light, 
 And thereby doth increase his misery. 
 Those Avhom he doth perceive in joy to pass 
 Augment his wretchedness, by making him 
 To think that thus I lately was myself. 
 But, admirablest lady of the world, 
 Divine Prudentia ! may I die abhorred 
 By all mankind if I repine at all, 
 Seeing for thy sake I do suffer this ! 
 The exquisitest tortures curious inventions make, 
 For thee I would think sports, and undergo : 
 May'st thou live happily and free from care, 
 And all my miseries of no moment are. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Trappolin. 
 
 Tra. Eo, Meo, and Areo, faith you are all brave 
 devils all on you, and my father conjuror an excellent 
 fellow. I love to see myself. Meo, thou art not the 
 work of Moran; no, the Duke himself I seem. I now 
 must learn to walk in state, and speak proudly. I'll 
 play such tricks with my lord banishers shall make 
 me sport enough. Banish a poor man for doing 
 courtesies ! it is against the law of friendship. I am 
 supposed a Prince ; the Florentines acknowledge me 
 the great Duke. Whatever I do, though never so 
 bad, passeth with approbation. Poor Trappolin turned 
 Duke ! 'tis very strange, but very true.
 
 152 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 "Would the fates fovoiir panders in this wise, 
 He Avere a fool, besworn, would not turn pimj). 
 Seeing panders Dukes become, he is an ass 
 That may hav't, will let the office pass. 
 
 me, Brunetto ! Alas for thee, man, how cam'st thou 
 there 1 I think in my heart, an there be a mischief 
 in the world, thou wilt be at one end or other on 't. 
 So ho ! Pucannello, Pucannello ! 
 
 Puc. Who calls ] 
 
 Unier PUCANNELLO. 
 
 Tra. That do I, sirrah ! let me Brunetto out j)re- 
 sently, and bid him come to me. 
 
 Fuc. Your Highness' pleasure shall be done. [Exit. 
 
 Tra. Alas, poor Brunetto ! marl what he has done 
 to be locked in such a place. I think in my con- 
 science 'tis not for any lechery, for I could never 
 get him to 't, and many a time I have offered him 
 many a good bit. Brunetto to come into the jail ! 
 
 1 cannot tell what to think of it ; but be 't for what 
 it will, out he goes. My good friend Brunetto, Avho 
 gave me a ring, shall not lie there. Honest Bru- 
 netto ! 
 
 Enter Brunetto. 
 
 Hora. Great Prince ! 
 
 Tra. He makes a very low leg, but I will not be 
 outgone in courtesy. 
 Dearest Brunetto ! 
 
 Hora. Your Highness doth forget yourself exceed- 
 ingly ; I am your prisoner. 
 
 Tra. My best friend, good Brunetto ! 
 
 Hora. Beseech your Highness to remember your- 
 self. 
 
 Tra. So I do, but never must forget thee. I am 
 glad to see thee in good health, dear Brunetto. 
 
 Hora. I shall fall to the ground even now in this 
 salutation. Beseech your Highness, I am your jiri- 
 soner, your slave. 
 
 Tra. I am thy servant, Brunetto !
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 153 
 
 Hora. "Wonders ! I am astonished ! Upon my 
 humble knees I do congratulate your safe and speedy 
 return. 
 
 Tra. And upon my knees I do embrace thee, 
 Brunetto. Thou art an honest man, my most sweet 
 Brunetto I 
 
 Hora. I knoAr not what to think, nor what to 
 speak. Beseech your Highness, rise ! 
 
 Tra. Not without thee. Up, Brunetto, honest Bru- 
 netto ; up, I say ! 
 
 Hora. Beseech your Highness, I am your humble 
 slave ! 
 
 Tra. I am thy servant, Brunetto ; and as long as 
 thou liest on the ground, so will I too. Up, therefore ! 
 let us rise and talk. Away with your compliments ! 
 I cannot abide them. Up, I say, let's rise ! thou shalt 
 not stay, I swear. 
 
 Hora. I am amazed ! by force I must obey. Great 
 sir, I know not what to think ; you honour me above 
 all expression. 
 
 Tra. Honour a fig ! I love thee, Brunetto. Thou art 
 a good honest fellow ; I love thee with all my heart ! 
 Compliment with me, and I Avill be very angry. 
 Without more ado, I tell thee I love thee ! Pucan- 
 nello, so ho ! Sirrah Pucannello, bring two chairs 
 hither presently ! 
 
 Hwa. Your Highness ! 
 
 Tra. Away with Highness ! I say away with it ! 
 Call me La\in Duke, plain Medicis ; I cannot abide 
 your Highness, your Excellency, your Worship — I 
 hate such idle flim-flams. Dear Brunetto, how I love 
 thee ! I' faith, I do, with all my heart ; and if I lie 
 unto thee, I Avould I might be hanged. 
 
 Hora. Sure I am awake ; this is no dream ! 
 
 Tra. We will live merrily together ; i' faith Ave Avill. 
 Brunetto, hoAV glad I am to see thee in health ! Come, 
 sirrah ! Avhat a A\'hile ha' you been a bringing a couple 
 of chairs ! Set them here, sirrah, and begone ! 
 
 [Exit Pucannello. 
 Brunetto, sit thee down ! sit down, my man, I say.
 
 154 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Hora. I will attend your Highness on my knees. 
 
 Tra. Why, I am not thy father, am I % Leave fool- 
 ing, and sit thee down, that we may talk together. 
 Sit thee here ! I will have it so. 
 
 Horn. I am astonished ; I humbly pray your High- 
 
 ness 
 
 Tra. Pray me no praying, but sit thee down ; sit 
 thee here, man ! Brunetto, be ruled ! 
 
 Horn. On the right hand? I know not what to 
 think. 
 
 Tra. I am something a-weary, Brunetto, and will 
 not sit without thee ; therefore, I pray thee, make 
 me stand no longer. Obey me ! for I am the Duke. 
 
 Hora. Here, then, so please your Highness. 
 
 Tra. Why, an thou wilt have it there, there let it 
 be ; but I am mistook that's on the left hand. What ! 
 do you think me a clown and without breeding, that 
 I have no more manners in me "? For shame of the 
 world, sit thee down, Brunetto, sit thee doAvn, and 
 without more bidding, without thou wilt ha' me lie on 
 the ground, for I am so weary I can scant stand. 
 
 Hora. There is no remedy ! I must obey. 
 
 Tra. So, well done ! Sit still, man ! What art 
 doing ? — art afraid of me ? 
 
 Hora. What does your Highness mean 1 
 
 Tra. Marry, and thou draw'st back, I'll draw back 
 too. Brunetto, sit thee still, and let us talk. 
 
 Hora. I will obey your Highness. 
 
 Tra. Highness me no more ! Highness, I cannot 
 abide it. My name is Lavin — call me Lavin Duke ; 
 and 'tis enough, a conscience. 
 
 Hora. Great sir, I am far unworthy of these 
 honours ; 
 The noblest Florentines would be most proud 
 To be thus graced by their Prince. 
 
 Tra. I like not these set speeches neither. Let us 
 talk as we were companions in a tavern together, 
 and not after the court fashion. I am as weary of it 
 as a dog ; I am, Brunetto. Prithee, man, how cam'st 
 thou into the gaol ]
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 155 
 
 Hora. pardon me, dread Sovereign ! 
 
 Tra. On thy knees, man 1 What meanest thou by 
 this 1 dost take me for Mahomet ? As well as I can 
 pardon thee, I do — anything, whate'er it be, though 
 thou hast killed everybody. Rise, therefore, I say, 
 Brunetto, and set thee in thy place again, or I'll 
 kneel too. 
 
 Hcn-a. Most merciful Prince, hear me before, lest 
 you 
 Repent your kindness towards me afterward. 
 
 Tra. Up, I say, Brunetto ! up ! I pardon thee any- 
 thing, upon condition thou wilt rise and sit thee 
 down. 
 
 Hora. It is your Highness' will. 
 
 Tra. Now, good Brunetto, without any fear, — for I 
 swear unto thee I do not care what thou hast done, 
 and forgive thee, whatsoever it be, — tell me the cause ! 
 
 Hora. Dread Sovereign, I was for love put in. 
 
 Tra. Who put thee in ? 
 
 Hora. Your Highness' governors, Lord Barberino 
 and Lord Machavil. 
 
 Tra. They are a couple of coxcombs for their 
 pains. Who art in love withal 1 
 
 Hora. pardon me ! 
 
 Tra. Sit still, or I will not ; and if thou dost, I 
 will. 
 
 Hora. Your Highness' excellent sister — great 
 Prince ! 
 
 Tra. Sit still, Brunetto ! Wast thou laid up for 
 that 1 Alas for thee ! Hast thou married her % 
 
 Hora. So please your Highness, no. 
 
 Tra. It doth neither please my highness nor low- 
 ness neither ; I would thou hadst, and that's all the 
 hurt I wish thee. Couldst thou think I, that loved 
 thee so, would be angry with thee for this ? Hast thou 
 her consent 1 
 
 Hora. I have. 
 
 Tra. I am very glad of it, and I here give thee 
 mine too. Prithee, Brunetto, do me the favour to 
 go and bid Barberino or Machavil come to me. I'll
 
 156 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 send for my sister presently, and if she says so to me, 
 I'll soon have you married. 
 
 Hora. Your Highness shall command me to my 
 death ; 
 More willingly unto my life, for so 
 This business doth import. The heavens be praised, 
 And ever be propitious unto you — bless you 
 According to your own and my desires ! [Ed'it. 
 
 Tra. This Brunetto is a good, honest fellow, and 
 hath always behaved himself very well ; and what- 
 soever he be, I'll give him Prudentia for the ring he 
 gave me — I will not be ungrateful. He said he was 
 in love with my sister ; and if he had them all, I would 
 e'en say, much good do his heart Avith them. But he 
 means the Princess ; and though I have little to do 
 ■wdth her, yet if I can give her him I will. Brunetto's 
 rin2' I shall never forget. 
 
 Enter Machavil. 
 
 Mac. Your Highness' pleasure 1 
 
 Tra. My Highness' pleasure, sirrah lord, is, that 
 you go and tell my sister Prudentia I Avould speak 
 with her presently. I will expect her here. Begone ! 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 The Duke's life is very pleasant ; I take great con- 
 tent in it ; and were it not for one thing, I were most 
 happy, Avhich is, I dare not disclose myself to my dear 
 Flametta, for she is a woman, and full of tittle-tattle 
 as the rest are. Nor, if I could win her without 
 making myself known, durst I lie with her, by reason 
 of putting off Eo, Meo, and Areo ; otherwise sure I 
 should get her, for sure she would not refuse a Duke. 
 
 Enter Flametta. 
 
 Fla. Here is the Duke alone, whom I so long 
 Have sought for, to petition for the repeal 
 Of my dear Trappolin. Great Prince, as low 
 As truest humility can make a suitor. 
 Before you I prostrate myself. Most excellent 
 And merciful sir, pity a loving maid
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 157 
 
 Who is "bereaved of her joys ; I beg 
 
 Poor banished Trappohn might be recalled, 
 
 Whom, when your Highness was to Mihxin gone. 
 
 Was, by those cruel lords whom you did leave 
 
 Our governors, sent into banishment. 
 
 Great Duke, you that have noble thoughts, and sure 
 
 A heart full of commiseration, 
 
 Kill me not with a cruel hard denial. 
 
 Tra. Ah, Eo, Meo, and Areo, hinder me ! I must 
 counterfeit with her. Fair maiden, rise ! 
 
 Fla. let me kneel, great sir, until you say 
 My Trappolin shall be repeal'd ! 
 
 Tra. Rise, I say ! and we will talk of it ; I cannot 
 abide to see anybody kneel, unless they are in the 
 church, that have legs to stand on. How may I call 
 you, maiden 1 
 
 Fla. So please your Highness, my name is Flametta. 
 
 Tra. Mrs. Flametta, I say, give me your hand ; rise 
 without more ado — rise, without you mean to say your 
 beads over. Mrs. Flametta, be rul'd ! good Mrs. Flam- 
 etta, be rul'd ! Woidd I were hanged if ever Trappolin 
 come home and you get not up ; up, I say, therefore ! 
 
 Fla. I must be most rude. 
 
 Tra. Why, that's well done, Mrs. Flametta ! 
 Trappolin, for whom you are a petitioner, young- 
 mistress, is banish'd, you say ; for what, it matters not. 
 Tell me what you'll give for his repeal. 
 
 Fla. Even anything I have — all that I have. 
 
 Tra. Are you a virgin ? tell me true. If you are 
 not, it is no wonder, besworn ; it is more wonder by 
 the half if you are, for I think there be not two of 
 your age in the city that be. 
 
 Fla. May I not prosper in my wishes, sir, if I be 
 not a maid 1 
 
 Tra. And will you give your maidenhead to have 
 him recalled from banishment 1 
 
 Fla. To liim when he comes home, and wo are 
 married. 
 
 Tra. Well said, mistress ! But tell me, now, what 
 will you giv'e me for to have him come home ?
 
 158 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Fla. Even anything I have. 
 
 Tra. I am a great man, and, like them, will not 
 do favours for nothing. Will you give me your 
 shoes ? 
 
 Fla. My shoes ! Your Highness jests. 
 
 Tra. I swear unto you, mistress, but I do not ; and 
 if you do not give me what I ask, how ridiculous 
 soever it seems to you, Trappolin ne'er comes in 
 Florence again. 
 
 Fla. I wonder at the Duke, but will obey him. Here 
 are my shoes, dear Prince. 
 
 Tra. Well done, I say; but I must have your 
 stockings too. Off with them, therefore, without any 
 more arguing ! 
 
 Fla. My stockings ! with all my heart, to have my 
 Trappolin. 
 
 Tra. Very well done, Mrs. Flametta, you do very 
 well. Give me your gown too. Do not wonder; these 
 will do nothing without it. 
 
 Fla. Then shall your Highness have it. 
 
 Tra. I see you love that fellow well ; 'tis well done 
 of you. I think he be an honest man, which makes 
 me the willinger to yield to his repeal. 1 say I must 
 have that petticoat too, else all this is not worth a 
 rush, i' faith. 
 
 Fla. I think the Duke's mad ! And will you give 
 me, then, your Highness' Avord 1 
 
 Tra. I will. 
 
 Fla. I cannot help it ; here it is ! 
 
 Tra. I swear unto thee, young wench, give me thy 
 under petticoat and thy smock, and I will give thee 
 my word, and send for him presently to-night. This 
 wench makes me curse Eo, Meo, and Areo. 
 
 Fla. Most excellent sir ! there is not in the Avorld 
 The thing that in my poAver lyes I would 
 Deny to do for my dear Trappolin, 
 But modesty forbids me to do this. 
 
 Tra. I shall not have them, then 1 
 
 Fla. I beseech your Highness, pardon me. 
 
 Tra. I am very sorry I could not see her naked.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 159 
 
 but it cannot be helped. Well ! how many kisses -will 
 you give me, my young mistress 1 
 
 Fla. Kisses ? 
 Most gracious Prince, a thousand and a thousand 
 
 times 
 I'll kiss your hand upon my humble knees. 
 
 Tra. I have no pleasure in that ; how many kisses 
 ujjon lips will you give me 1 
 
 Fla. For Trappolin's sake, I'll do anything that 
 modesty will give me leave. Do what you please, sir. 
 
 Tra. Ah, honey sweet Flametta, how I love thee ! 
 Prithee, kiss better : dear lips ! I could almost wish 
 Eo, Meo, and Areo i' th' fire. Again, again, again, 
 sweet Flametta. 
 
 Fla. Shall Trappolin come home 1 
 
 Tra. Do but let us kiss, and thou shalt have any- 
 thing. 
 me ! Avhat a misery it is to be a great man ! Again, 
 again, Flametta ; Trappolin shall come home. 
 
 Fla. I am aweary. 
 
 Tra. So shall I never be. Again, again ! 
 
 Enter Prudextia. 
 
 Fla. The Princess, your Highness' sister ! 
 You have gi'n your word ] 
 
 Tra. Young mistress, I have not leisure to answer 
 you now. Come to me some other time, and I'll talk 
 with you further. Now take up your things, and be- 
 gone ! 
 
 Fla. I am assur'd I shall prevail : heavens guard 
 your Highness. [Exit. 
 
 Pru. Now I expect my brother's rage, for sure, 
 Though ne'er so secret kept, my love unto 
 My dearest Horatio by some uncouth means 
 Is known. Say what he ^vill or can, I am 
 Resolved, and my affections settled. 
 
 Tra. Fair lady, come hither ! You are my sister, are 
 \o\\ 1 
 
 Pru. I am your sister and servant, sir. 
 
 Tra. Compliment with me no more than I compli-
 
 160 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 ment with you. Good madam sister, sit you down ! I 
 would talk with you a little. 
 
 Pru. He talks as though he were distracted. I 
 obey you, sir. 
 
 Tra. 'Tis well done, good lady sister ! 
 
 Pru. I never saw my brother thus before. 
 Sir, I am exceeding glad to see you 
 Returned in safety out of Lombardy ; 
 But should have been more joyful had you brought 
 Your Duchess with you. 
 
 Tra. She'll come soon enough, ne'er fear't; but, sister, 
 I must be something brief, for I am a-hungry. As 
 soon as I came home, I saw Brunetto in the gaol, Avho, 
 after many circumstances and fears, told me 'twas for 
 love of you that he was put there. Tell me, sister 
 Prudentia, do you love him ? I'll be sworn the man 
 is a good honest fellow. If you have a mind to him, 
 I'll give you my consent with all my heart ; I vow, as 
 I am an honest man and the Duke, I do not jest. 
 
 Pru. Most worthy brother, thanks ! I do confess 
 I love Brunetto, and were very guilty 
 Of cruelty if I did not, for he 
 Loves me, I know, as his own happiness. 
 Nor, sir, have I placed my affections 
 Unworthy : Brunetto is a Prince, 
 His name is Horatio, and he's second son 
 Unto the Duke of Savoy ; for my sake 
 He changed his name and lives a prisoner. 
 
 Tra. How's this? — Is Brunetto a Prince 1 You love 
 him, lady sister, you say ? 
 
 Pru. Most truly, sir, I do. 
 
 Tra. Are you content to marry him ? 
 
 Pru. I do desire no greater bliss on earth. 
 So that your Highness will consent thereto. 
 
 Tra. Lady sister, here is my hand ; I am content, 
 i' faith, without more words, I am. I am an hungry 
 now, and would be brief, sister mine ; I say marry 
 him when you will, beshrew my heart and I be not 
 content ; I had rather you had him than any man in 
 the world.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 161 
 
 Pru. I know not what to think ; he's strangely 
 chang'd ! 
 
 Tra. Let this suffice, madam sister. I am very 
 hungry, I say ; have you any good store of meat in the 
 house ? I could eat soundly now, sister, of a dish of 
 sausages. Come, lady sister, let's to dinner. Be- 
 gone ! I have a good stomach, as I am an honest 
 man, [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene ii. 
 
 Enter Mattemores. 
 
 Mat. I, that have led a life until of late 
 In spite of death, pass'd through the dangers of it 
 Dreadless, without regard, — whom never men 
 Conducted by brave captains to the field 
 Did yet withstand, am won and vanquished : 
 Hipolita, heroic Amazon, 
 
 In love hath conquered me Avith amorons smiles. 
 Methinks it is a thing most full of wonder, 
 That what not massy pikes nor murtherous guns 
 Could ever do, a lady's smiling eyes. 
 The beauty of a timorous woman, should. 
 Her eyes have darted fire into my breast. 
 Which nothing but her kindness can extinguish ; 
 And be she cruel, I shall soon be ashes ! 
 Do I thus yield 1 Shall I forget tlie sound 
 Of martial drums, the warlike noise of trumpets, 
 To list to the lascivious harmony 
 Of instruments touched by Hipolita's handl 
 Shall I forget the ordering of a camp, 
 To ride great horses, to besiege a city. 
 To undermine a castle, to raise bulwarks, — 
 All for the love of a fjiir, fearful woman 1 
 It must be so ! These legs, that wont to lead 
 Arm'd men to battle, I must use in dances! 
 This hail-, that us'd to l)e covered with a helm. 
 Cloggy with sweat and blood, 1 now must i)owder! 
 
 L
 
 162 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 These hands, that wont to wave a dreadful sword, 
 Instead of iron gauntlets now must wear 
 Perfum'd gloves ! I, that had wont to be 
 Under the chirurgeon's hands to cure my wounds, 
 Must have a barber now to keep me neat ! 
 love, thou art divine, and canst transform 
 A man from what he was ! It is in vain 
 To think to shun the thing thou dost constrain. 
 
 Enter Hipolita. 
 
 Hip. 'Tis idleness that is the cause 
 We lose our liberties ; 
 The busy Cupid never draws 
 To yield unto his vice. 
 
 AAvay with love ! it is a thing 
 
 I hope I ne'er shall know; 
 AVhen many weep, so I shall sing. 
 
 Have joy while they have woe. 
 
 The happiness of love is poor 
 
 Compar'd to liberty ; 
 Blest lovers do hard things endure, 
 
 Their j^leasures to enjoy. 
 
 May I live ever as I do, 
 
 Free from that foolish pain ! 
 I wish that no man may me woo 
 Until I love again ! 
 
 Mat. heavens, is thus her mind composed? If I 
 Can win this lady, it will be a conquest 
 Deserves a trophy far above my best 
 Of victories ! I will go try her. Hail, 
 Glory of Italy ! compar'd to whom 
 The fair Egyptian queen would yield. Sweet lady ! 
 Most excellent Hipolita, vouchsafe 
 To hear me tell your conquest and my spoil : 
 Whom the great Duke's greatest foes could never 
 vanquish.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 163 
 
 Your powerful beauty hath. Know Mattemores, 
 Whose valour Spain not only doth report, 
 But Mantua hath prov'd, your matchless eyes, 
 Transcendants of the brightest, lightest stars, 
 Have wounded fatally unto the heart, 
 Unless you prove as kind as you are fair ! 
 
 Hip. Do you jest wdth me. Captain 1 
 
 Mat. My heart's delight ! sweet centre of my 
 thoughts ! 
 I vow by your rich beauty, if my heart 
 Could speak it would agree full with my tongue ; 
 I would tell my love more than I can express ! 
 
 Hip. What ill fortune, good signor, you have 
 had, 
 To fall in love with one deserves it not, 
 Nor doth not care for you ! And I do hope 
 I ne'er shall bear affection unto man. 
 
 Mat. Patience assist me mightily ! Not all 
 The murderous cannon bullets I have heard 
 Fly buzzing by my ears, nor dismal cries 
 Of dying soldiers, nor the horrid noise 
 Of rough tempestuous seas, have ever moved me ; 
 Only your harsh, unkind rej)ly hath struck 
 Unto my very soul ! 
 
 Hip. I cannot help it. 
 
 Had you now, Captain, been abroad i' th' field. 
 This ne'er had happened to you ; and to cure you, 
 The field will be the best. Go to the wars, 
 Busy yourself in fights, and you will soon 
 Forget you ever saw Hipolita. 
 
 Mat. Most cruel fair one, be assur'd that ere 
 I would forget you, which I know 's a thing 
 For me impossible to do, I Avould 
 Into obUvion cast my best of pleasures — 
 Even all my pleasures ! I would forget to use 
 My sword, and all the military science ! 
 Witness, trium})hant son of Jove, great Mars, 
 I voAV, by all the honours of a soldier, 
 I love thee dear as mine own heart, but this 
 Admirable lady much above it !
 
 1G4 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Nor do I displease thee in 't. I know that thou 
 Prefer'st the embraces of the Cyprian queen 
 Above the glorious battles of the field ! 
 Therefore, dear lady, be most confident, 
 While I have memory, above all things 
 Your beauty will be fixed in 't. 
 
 Hip. Good signor, 
 
 Trouble me not to answer you again. 
 Let this suflice — I wish you lik'd me not, 
 Because I neither would have you nor any 
 To love a woman will not return affection. 
 
 Mat. heavens ! 
 
 "Will you continue thus obdurate ever? 
 
 Hip. Always ; believe it, Cajitain. 
 
 Mat. I have not patience to contain myself ! 
 An angry cloud full fraught with thunderbolts, 
 AVork'd by the Cyclops on Campagnia's stithy, 
 Kow hanging o'er my head, menacing death. 
 Presaging speedy, sad destruction, 
 Could not compel my silence ! 'Tis decreed 
 By my adverse malignant stars that I 
 Shall die, destroy'd by a fair cruel woman ; 
 Which, ere I do, I will a little ease 
 My troubled heart of woe ! Hear, merciless Avoman, 
 Whom I do curse because I love so dearly, 
 Hear me, and afterwards go glory * that 
 Your Avondrous l^eauty and your savage heart 
 Hatli made a man distracted — kill'd a soldier ! 
 
 Hip. A captain, and be thus mov'd hy a Avoman's 
 refusal ? 
 
 Mai. Sweetest Hipolita, be merciful, and save 
 His life that honours you aboA'e the Avorld ! 
 
 Hip. Pray you, signor, be ansAverecl ! 
 
 Mat. You are resolv'd, then, to ruin me 1 
 Curs'd be those battles, all that I have fought 
 And conquer'd in ! 'T had been more honour for me 
 To have been slain by my incensed foes, 
 Which Avere brave soldiers, than to die in peace 
 B}' the unkindness of a fair, proud Avoman. 
 
 * To glory — to revel with delight.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 165 
 
 Hip. Beseech you, leave your rage, and leave me, 
 Captain ! 
 
 Mat. More cruel than Hyrcanian tigers, hear 
 Me take my leave before I go ! 
 
 Hip. Proceed! 
 
 Mat. Thou god of love, an if thou art a god. 
 Revenge thyself and tliy wrong'd deity 
 On this unmerciful lady ! Make her fall 
 In love with the basest of all mankind, — • 
 A man so full of ignorance, that he 
 In shape alone may differ from a beast, 
 Not know that she is fair, and slight her beauty, 
 And be himself the most deformed thing 
 That ever burthened our mother earth 
 With his unworthy steps ! Cupid, attend, 
 And yield unto my just request ! Make this 
 Lady run mad for such a monster, shed 
 A thousand thousand tears upon her knees. 
 While he stands laughing at her ! May you die 
 Raging for love, Hipolita, as I ! 
 
 Hip. I do begin to pity him. Sure I never 
 Shall have a man to love me better ; and though 
 I once intended always to live single, 
 His words have altered my resolution. 
 Xor, if I take him, shall I do a thing 
 Will misbecome me, for he is a man 
 High in the great Duke's favour. Noble Captain, 
 It is your happy fate to conquer always. 
 I vow unto you by my honour, I think 
 Most seriously no man upon the earth 
 Besides you could have Avon. I'm the last 
 Of all your victories — Theseusdike, you have 
 Overcome Hipolita ! 
 
 Mat, And will you love me, then 1 
 
 Hip. I do, and always vnW ! 
 
 Mat. Blest be the stars that shin'd at my nativity ! 
 I Avant words to express my joys ; but, dearest 
 
 lady. 
 My sweet Hipolita, my forward actions 
 Shall make you know my heart above my tongue !
 
 166 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 I am a soldier, and was never wont 
 To speak amorously. 
 
 Hip. You have said enough. 
 
 Love is but thought by words, by deeds 'tis known ; 
 Show me you love me, and let words alone ! 
 
 Mat. Worthiest of ladies, when I cease to do 
 All that I can, then may your love cease too ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Act IV. — Scene i. 
 Enter Barbarino and Machayil. 
 
 Bar. He cannot counterfeit so much. 
 
 Mac. I know not ; 
 
 But if he do not, surely he is mad ! 
 What wild, fantastic things he does ! and talks 
 Of Eo, Meo, and Areo, names 
 Unheard 'i th' court before. 
 
 Bar. Some Milan counts, 
 
 I warrant you, he means by them. 
 
 Mac. The strangest thing of all is the release 
 Of Brunetto, and his extraordinary love unto him. 
 Whom he hath caused richly to be clothed. 
 
 Bar. And usetli him as if he Ave re his better. 
 
 Enter Horatio. 
 
 Mac. Yonder's the man we talk of ! What a change 
 We see ! — a prisoner but lately lock'd up safe. 
 And now to be the wonder of the court ! 
 
 Hora. Next Eo, Meo, and Areo, the Duke 
 Doth swear he loveth me ; but who those are, 
 I cannot tell nor learn. My lords, good day ! 
 Saw you his Highness lately 1 
 
 Bar. No, sir. 
 
 Hora. You speak as tho' you were displeased. 
 
 Mac. We are not well contented, sir. 
 
 Hora. The Duke is noble; utter your grievances to 
 him ! 
 
 Bar. So we will, sir.
 
 TRAPPOLIX. 167 
 
 Enter Trappolin. 
 
 Mac. And now, sir. 
 Know, worthy Prince, we are your loyal subjects, 
 And what we say is for your honour. 
 
 Tra. If it be for my honour, I'll hear you ; 
 But be as brief as you will. 
 
 Mac. Your Highness hath lately released Brunetto % 
 
 Tra. 'Tis a thing very certain. 
 
 Mac. We doubt not but done out of clemency. 
 Not knowing why he lay there. 
 
 Tra. Well, why was he put there 1 
 
 Mac. Even for your honour's sake, most gracious 
 sir. The Lady Prudentia, your sister, loves him. 
 
 Tra. Say you so 1 So ho ! Pucannello ! so ho ! 
 
 Pile. Who calls? [Within. 
 
 Bar. His Highness ! come hither presently. 
 
 Tra. Bid the guard enter. 
 
 Enter Pucannello and the Guard, 
 
 You say Brunetto was put in prison because my sister 
 lov'd him ? You think it good and fitting he were 
 there again? 
 
 Bar. So please your Highness, yes. 
 
 Tra. Pucannello, take me these two coxcombly 
 lords into your custody; they are never well but 
 when they are banishing somebody, or doing some 
 mischief or other. Brunetto was laid in prison be- 
 cause my sister lov'd him, and lay me these there 
 because I love them. 
 
 Mac. Beseech your Highness not to deal so hardly 
 With us, Avhom you have known so faithful to you ! 
 
 Tra. Pucannello, away with them, I say ! You of 
 the guard, see them in ! 
 
 Bar. Most worthy Prince, be merciful ! If we 
 Have done amiss, 'twas out of ignorance. 
 
 Tra. Sirrah rogue, away with them, or I'll lay up 
 you too ! 
 
 Puc. Your Honours must have patience, and walk.
 
 168 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Mac. There is no remedy. 
 
 Bar. The heavens be merciful to Florence ! 
 What ill malignant star hath so deprived 
 Our wise and noble Duke of all his reason, 
 That he remembers not who are his friends 1 [Exit. 
 
 Hora. The gods be ever most propitious, 
 Great sir, unto you, and continue long 
 Your life, chief honour of the Medicis ! 
 
 Tra. Prince Horatio, I am your servant. I pray 
 you forgive me my calling of you by your nickname 
 of Brunetto; my sister hath told me you are the son 
 of the Duke of Savoy. Besworn unto you, I am very 
 sorry I have not used you as befitted you ; but it was 
 your fault, that told me not who you were. I have 
 talked with Prudentia, and she loves you, she says ; 
 which I am glad on, and I'll marry you as soon as you 
 will. 
 
 Hora. Sir, it is true I am Horatio, 
 Son of the Piedmont Prince ; but, being his second, 
 I durst not think me Avorthy of such honours 
 As your Highness hath done me, and therefore told 
 None but your beauteous sister who T was. 
 
 Tra. Enough, my friend ! And, Prince Horatio, 
 Could you supi^ose I would deny my sister. 
 Though she were made of gold and precious stones. 
 Unto your Highness, and to such a friend ? 
 You do deserve a better wife than she. 
 She's not half good enough for you ; and if 
 I had another sister, you should have them both. 
 My friend a Prince ! I'm very glad, i' faith ; 
 But sorry that I did not know you such, 
 That I might have done you right. Would I were 
 
 hang'd 
 If you are not far a better man than I ! 
 
 Hora. Great Prince, you do forget yourself. 
 
 Tra. Your Highness must pardon me; I do remem- 
 ber myself well enough, yet Eo, Meo, and Areo have 
 made me something proudish. But, howsoever, I am 
 your servant, Prince Horatio— i' fjiith I am your very 
 dutiful servant ! How say you now ? — the Duke of
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 169 
 
 Savoy's son ! I' faith I am your poor servant, Lavin, 
 the Duke of Florence. 
 
 Horn. I am amazed ! he's mad ! Beseech your 
 Highness' leave — I pray you, sir 
 
 Enter Mattemores, the Spanish Captain, loiih 
 Petitioners. 
 
 Tra. What have we here now ? Does the Captain 
 bring us morris-dancers 1 What lobs are these two 1 
 
 Mat. So please your Highness, being importun'd 
 much, these I have brought before you, that you 
 might do justice. 
 
 Tra. Captain Mattemores, justice I'll do with all 
 my heart, but execution let do who will for me. 
 
 Calf. Great Duke of Tuscany, vouchsafe to hear me, 
 For what I speak is out of conscience. 
 This fellow, Mr. Bulflesh, a butcher, I saw, 
 Verily with mine own eyes, even yesternight, 
 When he was drunk, to kill my man, which he 
 Swore was good beef, and he would sell it dear. 
 
 Bid. Sirrah Puritan, you are a base scoundrel. Was 
 not I drunk in your company tc* make you merry ^ 
 
 Calf. But, ]\Ir. Bulflesh, you do know, and that full 
 Avell, that I prayed you on my knees for your own 
 soul's sake to drink no more, and profess'd to you 
 that it was a great abominable sin in you to fox your- 
 self, or l)e foxed ! 
 
 Bui. Goodman Calfshead, you are a base, scurvy 
 companion. Do you not know that for your sake I 
 killed your man 1 Yet I meant but only to beat him 
 soundly, because he poured not the wine into your 
 codpiece. Did not I do it out of friendship unto you^ 
 — did I not, you Puritan you ? And you to complain ! 
 the ingratitude of Puritans ! 
 
 Tra. Peace, both of you. INIaster Puritan, hold 
 your tongue, I say! Will not Calfshead be drunk, 
 Bulflesh ? 
 
 Bui. So jdease your Highness, no ; he will let a 
 man sooner hang him than make him drunk. Besides,
 
 1 70 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 he is a fellow of strange opinions, and liath sent his 
 son to Geneva to hear Jack Calvin preach. He stole 
 a surplice to make his amorosa a smock of; and hath 
 writ a paltry book against the bishops, printed it at 
 Amsterdam in decimo sexto. He will lie and steal 
 Avithout comparison, is both for boys as well as 
 queans when he hath money, and, like a true Italian 
 hypocrite, is for any sin or mischief but our drink- 
 ing. 
 
 Tra. Then know I very well how to do justice. 
 Mr. Calfshead, you say the butcher killed your man 
 when he was fox'd 1 Be you fox'd Avhen you Avill, and 
 then kill him for 't. 
 
 Calf. Heavens defend ! I ne'er was drunk yet, and 
 never will l)e. 
 
 Hora. There is mad justice ; he doth increase my 
 wonder. 
 
 Calf. Bless me, murder 1 I would not do it for the 
 world ! 
 
 Mat. This is strange justice ; the butcher doth very 
 well deserve to be sent into the galleys at Ligorn. 
 
 Tra. I liaA^e done Avith you, Mr. Puritan ; you may 
 begone to the tavern. And, Bulflesh, you may get you 
 to the shambles as soon as you Avill, for I have no 
 more to say to either of you. 
 
 [Excu'id Calfshead and Bulflesh. 
 I am ready for the next ; speak, therefore ! 
 
 Barne. Most excellent Prince, pity a childless 
 father ! 
 As yesterday my only son did Avalk 
 Under an house, this felloAV, Gaffer Tiler, 
 Who Avas a-working on it, did fall down 
 Upon my son, and killed him w^ith his fall. 
 
 Til. Mr. Barne, be not so eager. You knoAV I bore 
 your son no malice, and that it AA^as an hundred to 
 one I broke not my OAvn neck. 
 
 Tra. This is an easy matter to conclude. 
 Friend Barne, you say this Gaffer Tiler 
 Fell off a house, and so did kill your son 1 
 I Avill be very upright in my justice :
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 171 
 
 Go you upon the house from whence he tumbled, 
 And he shall stand beneath, and fall on him. 
 
 Mat. An the Duke be not stark mad, I am, to 
 think him so. 
 
 Barne. So I may break my own neck. 
 
 Hora. He strangely is distracted. 
 
 Tra. Neighbour Barne, get you about your business, 
 for I have done with you. 
 
 Barne. I must have patience. 
 
 [Exeunt Barne and Tiler. 
 
 Tra. Now let me make an end with these, and I 
 have clone. 
 
 Mrs. Fine. Deign, noble Duke, to hear my just com- 
 plaint. 
 I am a poor and an unfortunate widow ; 
 This man, Dick Whip, as the other day he drove 
 His coach, ran over a little child of mine 
 That Avas playing in the street, and kill'd it. 
 
 Tra. Sirrah Whip, is this true % 
 
 Whip. So please your Highness, I confess it is. 
 
 Tra. It doth not please me nor displease me, for I 
 neither did it, nor was the child mine. 
 
 Whip. It Avas against my will — a thing of chance. 
 Mrs. Fine cannot deny it. 
 
 Tra. Mrs. Fine, you are a widow, you say ? 
 
 Mrs. Fine. A poor unhappy one I am. 
 
 Tra. You say that Whip the coachman hath killed 
 your child ; and how he did it I have understood. 
 This is my justice — I will do you right : Whip shall 
 lie with you until he get you another. 
 
 Mat. Madder and madder ! 
 
 Hora. I cannot choose but smile. 
 
 Whip. Most willingly, so please your Highness. I 
 am well content to do her that satisfaction. 
 
 Mrs. Fine. You shall be lianged first, that you shall ! 
 Is thus my expectation failed ? 
 
 Tra. Mrs. Fine, be ruled ; I will have justice done. 
 Whi}) shall lie with you — you may marry him an 
 you will. He killed your child, and he shall get you 
 another — I say Init right. And, Sirrah Whip, look
 
 172 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 unto't; an you play the bungler, and fail, you shall 
 to Ligorn and learn to row. Mrs. Fine, be contented. 
 An you do not like him, you might have held your 
 tongue, for I know nobody that sent for you, and so 
 get you both gone ! 
 
 JFhij). The heavens preserve your Highness ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Tm. My friend and Prince, Horatio, go unto 
 JNIy sister. Bid her to prepare herself ; 
 I'll have you married within this day or two. 
 I long to see you both in bed together ! 
 
 Hora. Most willingly I will do such a message. 
 The gods preserve you happily ! \Exit. 
 
 Mat. A strange discovery, if true. 
 
 Tra. Seignior Captain, I say I have done very good 
 justice, and in a little time too. I am not like your 
 scarlet coats, that will do nothing without money ; a 
 company of fellows they are whose beards and hearts 
 agree not together. 
 
 3Iat. Your Highness doth despatch things very 
 soon. 
 
 Tra. Though I am the Duke, yet I love to do no 
 hurt, as other men in authority would. I hate to 
 banish men, as Machavil and Barbarino ha' done. 
 Alas ! poor Trappolin ! I hear they have banish'd an 
 honest man call'd Trappolin. What the devil, Seignior 
 Mattemores, came in their heads to send a poor fellow 
 away out of his country without any money 1 Though 
 men may sometimes gather a reasonable sallet abroad, 
 he shall get no oil to eat it withal. 
 
 Mat. Great Duke of Tuscany, our noble master. 
 That Trappolin of whom your Highness speaks 
 Had little fault in him, good faith, at all, 
 Saving he was a most notorious coward ! 
 
 Tra. Why, you Don of guns or pikes, do you think 
 every man's mind is given to the Avars 1 Trappolin 
 was addicted to the peace, a poor fellow full of cour- 
 tesies — one that will never deny to do a favour for a 
 friend. I will have a little sport w^ith my Don of the 
 wars. me, sir Captain, look yonder ! Eo, Meo, and
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 173 
 
 Areo, I will put you off foi- a while ; I will try some 
 conclusions. 
 
 Mot. Your Highness Where's the Duke gone, 
 
 I marll 
 AMiat, Trappolin, art thou come again] 
 Faith, many a wench in Florence will be glad. 
 Follow thy old trade ; be a pander still. 
 
 Tra. Seignior Captain, I am your huml^le slave, and 
 if I can do you any kindness at any time, i' faith, Don 
 Mattemores, you shall command me. And if you 
 have but a mind to any beauty in Florence, pay but 
 me well for my pains, and her well for hers, and I will 
 not fail you. And, Captain, I can give you a delicate 
 poison, to despatch any enemy Avith whom you dare 
 not fight. 
 
 Mat. I see thou art resolv'd to be a rogue ; 
 'Tis pity that his Highness did repeal thee. 
 Next time I see him, sirrah pimp, I will 
 Make suit to have you sent into Ligorn. 
 
 Tra. You Spanish coxcomb, go hang yourself I Do 
 your worst. 
 
 Mat. "Wert thou a soldier, I would fight with thee ; 
 Being a rogue, thou dost deserve my foot. 
 Take this, you rascal ! 
 
 Tra. I will presently be out of his debt. — Who's 
 yonder] It is the Duke, or I am deceiv'd. — Eo, ]\Ieo, 
 and Areo ! on again my hat, my glass, and cloak ; 
 sit close ! — How now, sirrah Captain, where are your 
 manners ] What do you think of me 1 Who am I, 
 too] I am not your lieutenant, am I] Stoop, and 
 take up your hat, and let me see if it will not become 
 your hand as well as your head in my presence. 
 
 Mat. I did not see your Highness. 
 
 Tra. Will you lie, too] 'Take that, and learn to 
 speak truth. [I\ld:s Mm. 
 
 Mat. Most noble Prince, and my most royal master, 
 Pardon the error which unwillingly 
 I have committed. In Tuscany there lives not 
 A man that freelier for your sake would lose 
 His life than 1.
 
 174 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Tra. Well, get you gone ; I do 
 
 Forgive you. My Don at arms, remember 
 The Duke's to be observ'd ; he is the man 
 That doth maintain you. 
 
 Mat. And, most worthy Prince, 
 
 Did but occasion show itself, I would 
 Venture and lose my life to do you service. \_Exlt. 
 
 Tra. An my father conjuror would come into 
 Florence, I would make him the next man unto my 
 Highness. He is a good man, and it is great pity that 
 he should go to the devil, as they say conjurors and 
 witches do. Well, I am a brave felloAV ; I love to see 
 myself in my glass. I am the Duke, i' faith, the very 
 Duke — I see me ! 
 
 Enter Flametta. 
 
 Fla. I will go and petition him again. 
 
 Tra. My rogue Flametta ! I could kiss her to pieces, 
 bite off her lips, and suck out her eyes, I love her so 
 well. 
 
 Fla. The great Duke of Tuscany, the gracious 
 heavens 
 Prosper your Highness ever ! I am the same 
 That lately did entreat for the repeal 
 Of my beloved sweetheart Trappolin. 
 Most excellent sir, pity my earnest suit, 
 And let me have my Trappolin recall'd. 
 
 Tra. This is a very precious villain ; how she loves 
 me ! An I ever marry while I am a Duke, by Eo, 
 Meo, and Areo's leave, I will have her. — Your name, 
 little maid, is Flametta, as I remember % 
 
 Fla. So please your Highness, yes. 
 
 Tra. You sue to have banish'd Trappolin come 
 home 1 
 
 Fla. Most humbly, most excellent sir, I do. 
 
 Tra. Well, 'tis all as please Eo, Meo, and Areo — I 
 can do nothing without them ; and, my young mis- 
 tress, as long as they are in authority, I can do little 
 for you.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 175 
 
 Fla. Then, by your Highness' leave, do I wish Eo, 
 Meo, and Areo in the fire ! 
 
 Tra. Methinks they should be enough in that al- 
 ready, for the devil made them all. — Now I think 
 well on 't, sometime when I have good opportunity 
 I will off with my things, and have a little sport 
 with her. — Since, fair maid, you are so earnest for 
 your sweetheart Trappolin, he shall come home very 
 shortly — he shall, believe me ; but upon condition I 
 will do it. 
 
 Fla. On any condition except my honour, sir. 
 
 Tm. That he shall lie with you ! 
 
 Fla. Were we but married, most willingly. 
 
 Tra. If he gives you his oath to have you, will not 
 that suffice % 
 
 Fla. I had rather we had married before. 
 
 Tra. You need not fear. Should he swear unto 
 you, and break his oath, I would hang liim. — And 
 yet, though I ne'er mean to break my word with her, 
 i' faith, I should very hardly hang myself for anything; 
 the rope is a very dismal thing. 
 
 Fla. Shall he come home ? Say the word, noble 
 Prince ! 
 
 Tra. Well, on my Avord, he shall, as soon as possibly 
 I can ; but on that condition that you will accept 
 of him without marriage, upon his oath to have 
 you. 
 
 Fla. I see his Highness is mad, as everybody says, 
 otherwise what should ail him to talk thus ? — Most 
 excellent Prince, he and I would not disagree. 
 
 Tra. Well, here is my hand ! he shall come home 
 shortly. Now I must have a kiss, and leave you. ^ I 
 am very hungry ; I ha' been so long a doing justice 
 that I am very hungry. Give me a buss, sweetheart ! 
 
 [Kisses her. 
 
 Fla. Heaven bless your Highness ! 
 
 [Exeunt severally.
 
 176 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Scene ir. 
 
 Enter Lavinio, the great Duke, Isabella, the Duchess, 
 with Attendants. 
 
 Lav. My heart's sweet solace, my dear Isabella, 
 You are most welcome unto Florence ! 
 Live according to your wishes happily, 
 And may I perish if I do not strive 
 In everything to please you to my power. 
 I'm sorry at my coming home I find 
 Such strange and unexpected alterations, 
 That, for to quiet them, I must deprive 
 Myself some hours of your company. 
 
 Isa. Most excellent sir, I do account myself 
 JNIost highly blest, that am not only married 
 Unto a Prince, but one that can 
 And doth vouchsafe his love unto me, being 
 Defective of those beauties should deserve it. 
 To your affairs betake you, w^orthy sir ; 
 I will expect you till your leisure serves. 
 
 Lav. You are good unto a miracle. 
 Sweet Isabella ! Attend the Duchess in ! 
 Adieu, my love ; some few but tedious minutes 
 Pass'd over, I will come unto you. 
 
 Isa. I will await your leisure. 
 
 [Exeunt with Isabella. 
 
 Lai). "What mad fantastic humours have possess'd 
 In general the heads of the Florentines ? 
 They have amaz'd me — speak as if I 
 Had been with them before my Duchess came. 
 
 Barbarino and Machavil appear in prison. 
 
 Bar. You great commander of the Tuscan cities. 
 Pity your subjects and your loyal servants ! 
 In Avhat Ave sued for Ave had no design, 
 Neither the least intent, for to oftend. 
 
 Mac. Be merciful, therefore, most gracious Prince !
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 177 
 
 Let not the noblest of the Florentines 
 
 Wear out their days and thraldom in a prison, 
 
 Being men not long ago high in your favour. 
 
 Lav. I am lost Avithin a labyrinth of wonders — 
 I know not what to think. The cliiefest of 
 The Florentine nobility in prison, 
 And sue to me as if I had commanded 
 Them to this place 1 Sure some ill spirit hath 
 Possess'd men's minds while I was absent. Do you 
 Know me 1 
 
 Bar. Your highness is the Duke our master. 
 Lav. Are you not called Barbarino, and you 
 Machavil, the lords unto whom I left 
 The government of Tuscany in my absence 1 
 
 Mac. We are your loyal subjects, though your pri- 
 soners, and were left your deputies when your High- 
 ness went to Milan. 
 
 Lav. How came you there ? 
 Bar. Great sir, you know most well 
 At your command. 
 
 Lav. I must be satisfied in this. 
 
 Pucannello, so ho ! 
 
 Puc. Who calls ? What's the matter, I wonder ? 
 
 [JVithin. 
 Lav. Eelease me the lords presently, and send them 
 to me hither. 
 The more I think of these accidents. 
 The more I marvel how they come to pass. 
 The men whom I did leave here governors 
 Are prisoners, and, which increaseth more 
 Amazement in me, they say it was I 
 That made them so. Some unheard malady, 
 Unkno\ATi unto the world before, it seems 
 Hath infected all my subjects with a frenzy. 
 
 Enter Barbakino and Machavil. 
 
 Bar. He hath chang'd his humour, it seems. 
 Mac. Ax\<\ may he continue in this, if it be a good 
 one. 
 
 M
 
 1 78 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Lav. I am astonished to see the thmgs 
 I every minute do ; especiallj^ 
 You two, to whom I left the weighty charge 
 Of rule, in prison. Resolve me, for Heaven's sake, 
 How you came there ! 
 
 Bar. Sure he doth jest with us. 
 
 Mac. Your Highness is disposed to be meny. 
 Y^ou know, most excellent sir, full well, that none 
 Except yourself could do it. 
 
 Lav. I do it 1 
 
 Bar. He doth things in his madness he remembers 
 not Avhen he's in's right senses, it seems. 
 
 Lav. Florence I left a wise ingenious city, 
 But I have found it now, at my return, 
 Possess'd Avith a strange unheard-of madness. 
 Who put you in prison 1 Collect your Avits int' 
 
 order, 
 And answer wisely. 
 
 Mac. I vow, by the prosperity of Tuscany, 
 Y''our Highness ! 
 
 Lav. Most strange ! Why did I so ? 
 
 Bar. Because we did, most gracious sir, give notice 
 Unto you how the Princess Prudentia, 
 Y'^our matchless, beauteous sister, lov'd Brunetto. 
 
 Lav. Whom? What Brunetto ? 
 
 Mac. Your prisoner, taken in the Mantuan wars. 
 
 Lav. My sister to forget herself ! I am 
 Full of amazement. She, that had refused 
 The youthful Dukes of Modena and Parma, 
 Dote on a slave slighted by all the stars ! 
 My sister also so to lose her senses — 
 She that was wise, and honoured for her virtues ! 
 Sure also this same strange infection 
 Of madness would ha' seiz'd upon myself 
 If I had stayed at home. I will not now 
 So marvel at the common people, seeing 
 The most discreet of the nobility. 
 And my own sister, equally distracted. 
 
 Mac. I hope he comes to himself again ; he talks 
 something more Avisely than of late.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 179 
 
 Lav. It is a frequent thing to see a city 
 Miserably groan under a heavy sickness — 
 To have the plague, or fierce diseases full 
 Of danger, rage and even unpopulate places ; 
 But such a general frenzy to possess 
 And to distract all Florence is a Avonder — 
 A miracle nnmatcli'd in history ! 
 
 Bar. How he talks as if we were all mad, and he 
 had done nothing ! 
 
 Lav. Are you sure you are Ijoth in your right senses] 
 
 Mac. Did once your Highness know us so 1 
 
 Lav. Yes. 
 
 Bar. AVe are as free from any distraction 
 As ever yet we were since Ave Avere born. 
 
 Lav. You must both of you, tho', give me leave to 
 think Avhat I knoAV. 
 
 Enter Mattemores. 
 
 I'll try an he be mad too. — Captain, these lords say I 
 put them in prison ; how say you ? 
 
 Mat. So your Highness did. — He's distracted an- 
 other AA'ay. 
 
 Lav. Good gods be merciful ! — Why 1 
 
 Mat. Because they spoke against Brunetto's liberty. 
 
 Lav. He's in the same tale; 
 Though they are depriv-ed of their senses, 
 They do not differ. 
 
 But Avhy, good Captain, — answer me a little, — 
 Should I desire Brunetto's freedom, being 
 Beloved by my sister, as they say % 
 Would it not be a great dishonour, think you, 
 Unto the family of the Medicis, 
 That she should cast herself aAvay upon one 
 AVe do neither knoAV Avhom or Avhence he is 1 
 I pray you. Captain, if that yet you have 
 Any small remnant of your Avit remaining, 
 Eeply according to it. 
 
 Mat. An he be groAvn Avise again, heavens be 
 praised ! 
 It is a certain truth your Highness speaks,
 
 180 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 That if your sister should bestow herself, 
 
 Being a Princess meriting so much 
 
 For her unequall'd beauty and her virtues, 
 
 Upon a man such as you pleas'd to mention, 
 
 It would be a great weakness in her ; but you 
 
 Yourself I heard, most excellent sir. 
 
 To call Brunetto Prince Horatio, 
 
 The second sou unto the Duke of Savoy. 
 
 Lav. How ] I call him so ! Truth, Captain, you 
 Have heard these things which I did never say. 
 
 Bar. You never heard him call Brunetto so ? 
 
 Mac. Never; this is the first time I ever heard 
 of it. 
 
 Lav. My wonder is so great, I do want words 
 Whereby to give it vent ; I see tliat all 
 My subjects, being distracted, think me mad ! 
 
 Mat. And more, so please your Highness, you did 
 send 
 Brunetto, whom you Prince Horatio called, 
 Unto your sister, to bid her prepare 
 Herself, for you within a day or two 
 Would see them married ! 
 
 Lav. Enough ! 
 
 Captain, I swear unto you by my Dukedom 
 That rather I would send Brunetto, though 
 He were the Duke of Savoy's second son. 
 To have his head struck off than on that message 
 You say I did.' 
 
 Mat. He doth remember nothing. 
 
 Bar. If the Duke be come to his right senses agam, 
 I beseech the gods keep him so ! 
 
 Mac. And I. 
 
 Enter Horatio and Prudentia. 
 
 Mac. Beseech your Highness, look ! let your own 
 eyes 
 Be Avitness of their mutual affection ! 
 Behold the Princess your sister and Brunetto ! 
 Let us withdraw where we may stand unseen. 
 And you shall hear them talk what I have said.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 181 
 
 Hora. Dear lady, you have raised me to a fortune 
 So liigli, that when I look upon myself 
 I am amaz'd, and wonder at your goodness. 
 
 Pru. Most noble Prince, let my unfeigned love 
 Excuse the Aveak expressions of my tongue ! 
 I'm glad my brother bears so noble a mind 
 As to be willing to unite our bodies, 
 As we have done our hearts. 
 
 Hora. Not only willing, divine Prudentia, 
 But earnest for us ; he doth seem to grieve 
 That two such faithful lovers as we are 
 Should live so long asunder. 
 
 Fru. It is a worthy nature in him. 
 
 Lav. I can contain myself no longer ; though this 
 Be out of madness done, I will not suffer it. 
 Sister ! 
 
 Pru. Live long, most worthy brother, happily 1 
 
 Lav. So should I wish for you, bore you a mind 
 Deserv'd yourself ! 
 
 Pru. "What mean you, sir 1 
 
 Hora. Good heavens, be kind, and do not now undo 
 AYhat you have almost brought unto perfection ! 
 I fear his madness, that once favoured me, ' 
 Hath chang'd his mind to my undoing ! 
 
 Lav. I will but spend few words. Are vou a son 
 Of the Duke of Savoy's ? 
 
 Hora. Your Highness knows I am his second. 
 
 Lav. Whether 
 
 You are or no, I care not ; and if you be, 
 My sister once deserv'd a better husband; 
 And she shall rather in a monastery 
 Spend all her future days than be your wife ! 
 And be you what you will, sir, I will show you 
 That j'ou have wronged me, and I do not fear 
 The Duke of Savoy, if he be your father. 
 Pucannello, Pucannello, come hither ! 
 
 Mac. I like this. 
 
 Pru. He's wonderfully distracted! Most worthy 
 brother. 
 Be not so much unmerciful !
 
 182 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Lav. Peace, Pnidentia ! I never thought 
 You had so weak a reason. 
 
 Hora. He's mad to my undoing ! Gracious gods, 
 Soon make him leave this humour ! 
 
 Bar. I hope he's come unto himself. 
 
 Enter Pucannello. 
 
 Lav. Sirrah, convey Brunetto into prison ! 
 Lock him up close ! 
 
 Puc. Here's do and undo. Will our Duke ne'er be 
 in his 
 Right senses again? 
 
 Fru. My dear Horatio, love me still, for I 
 Unto thee will be constant, though I die ! 
 
 Hora. Though I be tortured unto death, my dear ! 
 
 [Exeunt with Horatio. 
 
 3fat. I know not what to think of these alterations. 
 
 Lav. Thus, but the heavens assist, I hope to bring 
 Int' order from confusion everything. [Exeunt omnes. 
 
 Act v. — Scene i. 
 
 Enter Trappolin, solus. 
 
 Tra. The Duke is come home, and therefore my 
 hardest jxart is behind. Father conjuror, an you be 
 not my friend now, I am undone. Eo, Meo, and Areo, 
 sit you all close, and lose not a jot of your virtue. 
 Happen what will, as soon as I meet his Highness I 
 will try the virtue of my powder on him, let him take 
 it how he please. 
 
 Enter Prudentia. 
 
 Pru. Here is my brother ! I will try him ; perhaps 
 He may have chang'd his sullen humour now. 
 And set the Prince Horatio at liberty. 
 Most excellent, noble sir ! 
 
 Tra. My dear sister, how dost thou do 1 Why look 
 you so sad ] Ha' you got the green sickness to-night 
 with lying alone 1 An you have, I Avill take an order
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 183 
 
 for your cure very shortly, and to your liking, too ; 
 I'll have you married within these two days at the 
 furthest. 
 
 Pru. Married, sir! Unto whom'? 
 
 Tra. Unto my friend, your lover. Prince Horatio. 
 
 Pru. I am glad of this. Alas, sir ! why then have 
 you 
 Made him a close unhappy prisoner 1 
 
 Tra. I see the Duke hath met with him. — 
 You do deceive yourself, lady sister ; indeed 
 You do ! Put up my friend in prison 1 Heaven 
 defend ! 
 
 Pru. Sir, — pardon me for speaking truth, — I heard 
 When you commanded it. 
 
 Tra. Sister mine, if I did I was drunk, and now I 
 3,m sober I will let him out. Sirrah Pucannello ! so ho ! 
 
 Pru. May he continue always in this vein 
 Of kindness ! Thus, his madness is not grievous ! 
 
 Tra. Madam sister, I am very sorry I was such a 
 heast as in my drink to commit such a fault. I pray 
 you forgive me ! 
 
 Enter Pucannello. 
 
 Puc. What is your Highness' will 1 
 
 Tra. It is that you set Prince Horatio at liberty, 
 and send him hither presently. 
 
 Puc. I wonder ! — Most Avillingly ! [Exit. 
 
 Pru. You are a gracious prince, and the high gods 
 Will recompense your pity unto lovers ! 
 
 Tra. What a swine was I to do such a thing ! I 
 am ashamed as often as I think on 't ; I shall be 
 ashamed to look on my friend. Sister, you must pray 
 him to forgive me ! 
 
 Pru. Sir, trouble not yourself ; and be assur'd, 
 Unless you part us, you can never do 
 Offence either unto the Prince or me ! 
 
 Enter Horatio. 
 
 Hora. It seems his mind is changed — the heavens 
 be praised !
 
 184 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Tra. Prince Horatio, an you do not forgive me my 
 locking of you in prison, I shall never be merry 
 again. I did it when I was drunk, and my sister 
 knows that as soon as she told me on't I sent for 
 you. I pray you, therefore, forgive me, good Prince 
 Horatio ! 
 
 Hora. Most excellent sir, I was a man unAvorthy 
 Of this sweet lady's love did I not freely ! 
 
 Tra. I tliank you, i' faith. Prince Horatio, with all 
 my heart, I swear unto you ! Here ! take you my 
 sister— take her by the hand, lead her whither you 
 will, and do what you will unto her with her con- 
 sent ; I am very sorry I parted you so long. I know 
 lovers would be private though they do nothing but 
 talk, therefore I will not hinder you. Fare you well, 
 both my princely friend and lady sister ! 
 
 Pru. The gods preserve you ! 
 
 H(yra. And reward your goodness ! [Exeunt. 
 
 Tra. Thus what the Duke doth I aWII undo ; such 
 excuses will serve my turn well enough. 
 
 Enter Barbarino and Machavil. 
 
 Here are my lord banishers. It seems the Duke hath 
 set them at liberty ; but in they go again, as sure as 
 the cloaks on their backs ! 
 
 Bar. May the good angels that attend upon 
 Princes on earth defend your Highness always 
 From every offensive thing ! 
 
 Mac. And may you live 
 
 A long and happy life, enlarge your state, 
 Excel in fame the first great Duke ! 
 
 Tra. Your good wishes I like, but credit me, my 
 lord banishers, neither of you. Who let you out of 
 prison 1 
 
 Bar. He's mad as e'er he was !— Your Highness, 
 
 sir. 
 
 Tra. You lie, sir ! Pucannello, come hither quickly ! 
 
 Mac. Heavens be merciful ! we must in again, I see ! 
 He does and undoes, and remembers nothing.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 185 
 
 Enter Pucannello. 
 
 Tra. Sirrah rogue, why did you set these two at 
 liberty] 
 
 P%u:. Your Highness did command it. 
 
 Mac. If our Duke must be mad, the gods grant 
 him 
 That which he had the last ! 
 
 Tra. You ill-faced rascal, you lie ! 
 
 Puc. Beseech your Highness, remember yourself ; 
 it Avas at your command ! 
 
 Tra. It may be so, but I am sure I was drunk then, 
 and now I am sober they shall in again ; therefore 
 take them Avith you. Begone, I say ! 
 
 Bar. There is no remedy. 
 
 Mac. Good gods, pity Florence ! [Exeunt. 
 
 Tra. Eo, Meo, and Areo, thanks ! i' faith, yet I am 
 supposed the Duke ! Father conjuror, by thy art I am 
 suppos'd a prince ! Stick to me still, and be my friend ! 
 
 Enter Isabella. 
 
 Here is the Duchess ! Eo, Meo, and Areo, be true to 
 me, and I'll have a kiss or two at the least. 
 
 Isa. Sir, you are fortunately met. 
 
 Tra. "Who are you, lady madam 1 
 
 Isa. Do you not know, sir 1 
 
 Tra. I'd have you tell me. 
 
 Isa. I never knew him so before. — I am your wife ! 
 
 Tra. I'm glad on 't, I promise you ; come and kiss 
 me, then. 
 
 Isa. You are wondrous merrily disposed. 
 
 Tra. Madam Duchess, I am something jovial in- 
 deed ; I have been a drinking Montefiascone very 
 hard. Kiss me again, my dear lady wife ! 
 
 Isa. He's drunk ! 
 
 Tra. You are a handsome woman, I promise you. 
 Prithee, tell me, my lady Duchess, am I a proper, 
 handsome fellow 1 
 
 Isa. Do not jest with me, sir ; you know you are 
 Him whom above the world I do esteem !
 
 186 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Tra. Well said, my lady wife ! 
 
 Isa. I ne'er saw him so distempered before. 
 
 Tra. Have you nothing yet in your belly % 
 
 Isa. You know I am with child, sir. 
 
 Tra. Faith, but I do not, for your belly swells not. 
 
 Isa. I am full of wonder ! 
 
 Tra. Lady wife, get you in, I am half drunk, and 
 now am unfit for you ; but give me a kiss or two 
 before. Madam Duchess, fare you well ! 
 
 Isa. I had thought he had not been addicted to 
 A vice so loathsome as drunkenness. \Exit. 
 
 Tra. Yet all happens very well ! Protest the 
 Duchess is a gallant woman — I almost like her as 
 well as Flametta. I could lie with her ; and I Avould, 
 but I am half honest, and will not Avrong the Duke 
 nor Flametta. AVhy, is not my wench as good as she? 
 AVherein do they differ, but only in clothes 1 Fla- 
 metta's a woman as right as she, and perhaps, naked, 
 as handsome ! What good in the night do jewels and 
 fine clothes to a woman when she hath them not on ? 
 Besworn I am very merry ! Eo, Meo, and Areo are 
 brave, tame devils, and my father conjuror an excel- 
 lent learned fellow ! 
 
 Yienca wine and Padua bread, 
 
 Trivigi tripes, and a Venice wench in bed ! 
 
 \_Exit singing. 
 
 Scene ii. 
 
 Enter Lavinio. 
 
 Ye glorious planets, that do rightly guide 
 
 The giddy ships upon the ocean waves. 
 
 If some of your malignant influences 
 
 Have rais'd this madness in my subjects' heads, 
 
 Let some of your benign influences 
 
 Again restore them to their former senses ! 
 
 Those Florentines, whom all their enemies 
 
 Could not impeach, could not withstand in arms,
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 187 
 
 Suffer not, you immortal powers divine, 
 Thus to be ruin'd by distraction ! 
 
 Machavil and Barbarino appear in prison. 
 
 I am astonished ! O heavens, I know not what to 
 
 think ! 
 Pucannello! Pucannello! let me out the two lords, 
 and send them to me presently ; I'll talk unto 'em 
 here at large. 
 
 Bar. His ill fit 's off. 
 
 Mac. The gods be praised ! 
 
 Lav. I do not think that since the infancy 
 And first creation of the world a madness 
 Pestiferous and equal unto this 
 Was ever known. Good heavens reveal, and soon, 
 The cause, that I may do my best to help it ! 
 
 Enter Barbarino, Machavil, and Pucannello. 
 
 Mac. Long may this fit continue ! 
 
 Bar. If it hold always, sure he's in 's Avits again. 
 
 Lav. I wonder, lords, and justly, that you, whom I 
 have known to have the noblest judgments, should 
 thus become distracted. You in your fits of frenzy 
 run to prison of yourselves, and think I sent you ! 
 
 Bar. Most royal sir, Ave grieve to see these days. 
 You did command us thither. 
 
 Lav. 1% 
 
 Mac. Your Highness' self. 
 
 Lav. You are both deceiv'd. To do such idle errors, 
 And lay the blame on me, doth more amaze me ! 
 Pucannello, how came these in prison ] 
 
 Puc. So please your Highness, you were angry with 
 them. 
 And did commit them. 
 
 Lav. I commit them] 
 
 That thou art mad is not so great a wonder. 
 I tell you both with sorrow, witness Heaven ! 
 You are strangely bereaved of your reason ! 
 Well, go ye in, and pray unto the gods
 
 188 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 That they hereafter Avould be kind unto you, 
 And keep you from relapse ! 
 
 Mac. Heavens bless your Highness ! 
 
 Bar. And be unto you a perpetual guard ! [Exeunt. 
 
 Lav. Famine, plague, war, — the ruinous instruments 
 Wherewith the incensed deities do punish 
 Weak mankind for misdeeds, — had they all fallen 
 Upon this city, it had been a thing 
 To be lamented, but not wondered at. 
 
 Enter Isabella. 
 
 Oh, my dear Isabella, I have brought thee 
 From Milan, flourishing in all delights. 
 Into a city full of men distracted. 
 
 Isa. He's not sober yet. — Go in and sleep, sir ; 
 You do not well to betray your weakness 
 Unto the public view. 
 
 Lav. My wife and all ! heavens ! 
 
 Isa. What say you, sir 1 
 
 Lav. My Isabella, thou hast cause to curse me 
 For bringing thee unto a place infected ! 
 The air is sure pestiferous, and I wonder 
 Now how I have escaped. 
 
 Isa. Good sir, I pray you sleep. 
 
 Lav. Wherefore, my Isabella ] 
 
 Isa. Why, you have drunk too much ! 
 
 Lav. Madness unmatch'd ! 
 Dear Isabella, withdraw thyself into 
 Thy chamber ; I will presently come to thee. 
 There we will pray unto the angry gods 
 That they would from 's remove this heavy ill. 
 
 Isa. I will obey you, sir, to get you home. 
 Good gods, ne'er let him thus offend again ! [Exit. 
 
 Lav. What have I done so much offensive to 
 The supreme powers, that they should punish me 
 Not only with the madness of my subjects. 
 But the distraction of my wife and sister 1 
 
 Enter Horatio and Prudentia. 
 What do I see 1 They do embrace and kiss !
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 189 
 
 My sister's madness will undo her ! How 
 
 He came at liberty I marvel much. 
 
 Whom I would have to lie in prison walk in freedom ; 
 
 and whom I would have in freedom run of themselves 
 
 to prison. 
 
 Fru. Most noble brother ! 
 
 Lav. Sister, I grieve to see thee thus. 
 
 Hora. Excellent Prince ! 
 
 Lav. Sure the good angels, that had wont to guard 
 The Medicis in all their actions, 
 Have for the horrid sins of Florence left us, 
 And fled to heaven ! 
 
 Hora. His mind again is altered. 
 
 Pni. Dear brother, do not frown and look so angry. 
 
 Lav. Peace, sister, I'm asham'd to hear you speak ; 
 Each word you say is poison in my ears. 
 Pucannello ! Jailor ! 
 
 Puc. I come. \_Within. 
 
 Pru. AVhat mean you, sir 1 
 
 Hora. I must again to prison. Fickle fortune, 
 How soon a hajiiDy man thou makest wretched ! 
 
 Enter Pucannello. 
 
 Lav. Sirrah, why did you set this man Brunetto, 
 Or this Horatio — I know not what to call him — 
 At liberty ] 
 
 Puc. Will he ne'er be wise % — Your Highness bade 
 me. 
 
 Lav. 1 1 Bethink you, and answer truly ! 
 
 Puc. Your Highness knows I durst not for my life 
 Ha' done 't without your licence. 
 
 Pru. Sweet brother ! 
 
 Lav. Silence would become you better far. 
 
 Hora. Life of my heart, do not disturb yourself ; 
 I am unworthy you should speak for me. 
 
 Lav. Sirrah, take him again, and look to him better 
 than you have. Your madness shall not excuse you 
 if once more you serve me thus. 
 
 Hm'a. I must be patient. Good heavens, soon alter
 
 190 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 this sullen fit into liis former kindness ! Farewell, my 
 sweet Pnidentia ! [Exeunt with Horatio. 
 
 Pru. I wonder, brother, what pleasure you take 
 In crossing me after this sort ! 
 
 Lav. It is vain to ansAver frantic people. 
 
 Pru. I ? — I am mad ? 'Tis your perv'erseness 
 makes me. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene hi. 
 Enter Trappolix, solus. 
 
 Tra. Yet I cannot meet with the Duke. I long to 
 see him look like me. I would fain powder his High- 
 ness. Eo, Meo, and Areo, I thank you, faith — my hat, 
 my glass, and cloak ! Honest father conjuror, I will 
 love thee while I live ! 
 
 Enter Barbarixo and Machavil. 
 
 Hell's broke loose again ! I do what the Duke undoes, 
 and he undoes what I do. 
 
 Mac. Long live your Highness ! 
 
 Tra. Amen. 
 
 Ba.r. And happily ! 
 
 Tra. Amen, I say. But how, my small friends, 
 came you hither ? I thought you had been under lock 
 and key. 
 
 Mac. I fear he's ill as e'er he was. 
 
 Tra. Sirrah Pucannello ! so ho ! so ho 1 Come 
 hither, you rogue. 
 
 Bar. We must in again. 
 
 Mac. Good gods, will this frenzy never leave him] 
 
 Enter Pucannello. 
 
 Tra. Goodman dirty-face, why did you not keep me 
 these in prison till I bid you let them out ? 
 
 Puc. So please your Highness, so I did. 
 
 Tra. Dare you lie so boldly 1 You take me for a 
 doctor, — Gracian of Franckolin, I warrant you, — or a 
 fool in a play, you're so saucy with me !
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 191 
 
 il/ac. Good gods ! 
 
 Bar. Was ever heard the like 1 
 
 Puc. Beseech your Highness to remember yourself ! 
 
 Tra. Now I bethink myself, perhaps I might do it 
 when I was drunk. If I did bid you give them liberty, 
 it Avas Avhen I was foxed, and now I am sober lay 
 them up again. Walk, my good lord banishers ; your 
 honours know the way. 
 
 Puc. Will this humour never leave him? 
 
 Bar. We must endure it. 
 
 Mac. There is no remedy. 
 
 Tra. My lord prisoners, get you gone ; I am 
 an hungry, and cannot stand to hear any suppli- 
 cation. 
 
 Puc. You must obey, my lords. _ [Exeunt. 
 
 Tra. Yet all goes well, all goes exceeding well — 
 My will's obeyed ; I am suppos'd the Duke ; 
 My hat, my glass, and cloak retain their force ; 
 And father conjuror does not forsake me. [Eoilt. 
 
 Scene iv. 
 
 Enter Mattemores, the Spanish Captain, solus. 
 
 Mat. Though, horrid war, thou bear'st a bloody 
 sword, 
 And marchest o'er the world in dreadful arms ! 
 Though fearful mankind, on their humble knees, 
 Beseech the gods to keep thee from their homes ! 
 Yet art thou, when trick'd up in dismal robes. 
 Presaging death and ruin to a state, 
 More lovely to a valiant soldier's eyes 
 Than are the pleasures of a wanton court ! 
 And sure, if our great Duke Lavinio 
 Had been i' th' field expecting of a foe. 
 He ne'er had been distracted as he is ! 
 'Tis peace that doth bewitch us from ourselves, 
 Fills most heroic hearts with amorous toys. 
 And makes us to forget what honour is ! 
 But, for Hipolita's sake, I must not speak
 
 192 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Anything ill of love. Love, I must say, 
 Is good, but war leads the more noble way. 
 
 Enter Lavinio. 
 
 Lav. How do you, Captain 1 
 
 Mat. I am your Highness' creature. 
 
 Lav. Saw you not lately Barbarino or Machavil 1 
 
 Mat. Yes. 
 
 Lav. Where are they 1 
 
 Mat. Your Highness knows, in prison. 
 
 Lav. heavens, in prison again ! Good gods, when 
 will you remove this frenzy from the Florentines] 
 
 Mat. I see there is little hope on him. 
 
 Lav. Why are they in prison 1 
 
 Mat. Because your Highness did command. 
 
 Lav. Never, Captain ; I never did command it ! Go 
 and bid Pucannello let them out. 
 
 Mat. Sir, he dares not at my bidding. . 
 
 Lav. Here, take my ring, and do 't ! 
 
 Mat. One humour in the morning, and another in 
 the afternoon ! Will it never be better ? [Exit. 
 
 Lav. Would I did know what heinous sin it is 
 I have committed that is so offensive 
 Unto the gods to cause this punishment, 
 That I might sue unto them for forgiveness. 
 And they be reconciled and pity Florence ! 
 I'm full and full of Avonder. Perhaps some fiend, 
 Permitted by the heavens, assumes my shape, 
 And what I do undoeth. Was ever known 
 Such a distraction in the world before 1 
 
 Enter Trappolin. 
 
 Tra. At last I have found him. 
 
 Lav. This the impostor is that hath deceiv'd 
 The eyes of all ; it can be nothing else. 
 
 Tra. I vow and swear I am something afraid ; but I 
 will be bold. Eo, Meo, and Areo, sit close ! Come 
 out, powder, come out ! Father conjuror, I rely on 
 your powder. 
 Take that for my sake ! [Flings it on him.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 193 
 
 Lav. What rudeness is this 1 
 
 Tra. I have done 't, i' faith. Trappolin, I have 
 repealed thee for Flametta's sake. 
 
 Lav. How is this 1 
 If thou art a fiend, the gracious heavens be kind, 
 And give a period to thy wild proceedings ! 
 But if thou art a conjuror, I'll have thee 
 Burnt for thy magic, as thou dost deserve. 
 
 Tm. Trappolin, talk wisely. 
 
 Lav. Why dost thou call me so 1 
 
 Tra. Aha ! a man forget himself so ! Art thou not 
 he? 
 
 Lav. I am the Duke. 
 
 Tra. Beware of treason. Do you know your own 
 face if you see it 1 Look here ! — what say you now ? 
 
 Lav. I am bewitch'd ! Thou art a conjuror, 
 And hast transform'd me to a banish'd rogue. 
 
 Tra. For Flametta's sake I pardon thee this lan- 
 guage, but learn to speak better, lest you walk again. 
 
 [Exit.. 
 
 Lav. Heaven, earth, and hell have all agreed 
 together 
 To load me with a plague unknown before 
 Unto the world ! The heavens have given consent 
 Unto my misery ! Hell hath plotted it ! 
 And the deceived earth believes me mad, 
 And now will take me for a banish'd rogue ! 
 
 Enter Flametta. 
 
 Fla. Oh, joy above expression ! Behold, 
 My Trappolin is come ! Love, welcome home ! 
 Thou art beholding unto me, my dear ; 
 'Twas I that won the Duke for thy repeal. 
 
 Lav. I am amazed ! 
 
 Fla. Give me a hundred kisses ! Let us spend 
 An hour in kissing ; afterwards we'll talk. 
 
 La.v. Away ! 
 
 Fla. Have you forgotten me so soon ? I am 
 Thy true Flametta, lovely Trappolin ! 
 
 Lav. Begone, I say ! 
 
 N
 
 194 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Fla. Dost thou reward me thus for all the pains 
 I've took to get thee home agam ? 
 
 Lav. Leave me, 
 
 Thou impudent whore, or I will kick thee hence ! 
 
 Fla. Oh, faithless men ! Women, by me take 
 heed 
 You give no trust unto this perjur'd sex ! 
 Have I all thy long banishment been true ? — 
 Eefused Lord Barbarino with all his gifts 1 — 
 And am I slighted thus ? I will complain 
 Unto his Highness of thee ! 
 
 Enter Mattejmores. 
 
 Lav. Have you done 't 1 
 
 Mat. Wliat? 
 
 Lav. Have you set the lords at liberty 1 
 
 Mat. What's that to thee ? 
 
 Lav. Give me my ring ! 
 
 Mat. He has heard the Duke sent me with his 
 ring, and this impudent rogue dares think to get it. 
 Sirrah, is it not enough to be a coward and a pander, 
 but you would be a thief too 1 
 
 Lav. I am bewitched ! 
 
 Fla. I fear my Trajipolin is turned madman. 
 
 Lav. Suffer not this, ye gods ! 
 
 Enter Trappolin. 
 
 Mat. I have set the Lords Barbarino and Machavil 
 at liberty, according to your Highness' order, and 
 here is your ring again. 
 
 Tra. Better and better. — I marvel where the Prince 
 Horatio is 1 
 
 Mat. He forgets everything. — He's in prison ! 
 
 Tra. Sure he is not ! 
 
 Lav. How this impostor devil acts me ! 
 
 Mat. Your Highness did commit liim. 
 
 Tra. Fie upon 't, what things do I do in my drink ! 
 Here, take my ring ; go and set him out, and come 
 hither with him presently.
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 195 
 
 Lav. I am the Duke, and will be obey'd ! 
 Go not, upon your life ! He shall lie there. 
 
 Fla. Sure my Trappolin 's run mad for grief in his 
 banishment. 
 
 Mat. Peace, frantic, peace ! do not disturb his High- 
 ness ! 
 
 Tra. Regard not madmen. Go ! 
 
 3Iat. I'm gone. [Exit. 
 
 Lav. Thou traitor ! 
 
 Fla. Dear Trappolin, be silent ; regard my tears ! 
 Thou wilt undo thyself 
 
 Tra. Maiden, an your sweetheart continue thus, 
 I'll have him sent abroad again. 
 
 Enter Prudentia. 
 
 Fla. Sweet Trappolin, for my sake hold thy 
 tongue ! 
 
 Lav. I rage in vain — good heavens be merciful ! 
 
 Pru. Dear brother, pity me ; regard my sorrow ! 
 Release the Prince Horatio, and no longer 
 Separate their bodies whose hearts the gods have 
 joined. 
 
 T^a. Sister, have patience a little, a very little ; 
 Prince Horatio will be here presently, and I'll make 
 an end with you. 
 
 Lav. Prudentia, art thou not ashamed 1 
 
 Pru. What sauciness is this 1 
 Most worthy noble brother, all my heart is full of 
 thanks for you ! Would I'd a tongue could utter them ! 
 
 Enter Mattemores and Horatio. 
 
 Mat. Your Highness' ring. 
 
 Tra. 'Tis well, Captain. Sister, and Prince Horatio, 
 Here, take my signet ; by the Avarrant of it go 
 And get you married. 
 
 Hora. Our humble thanks ! 
 
 Lav. I do want patience. 
 
 Hora. 'Tis best to do it whilst he's in good 
 humour. 
 Are you content, sweet Princess ?
 
 196 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Pru. With all my soul I go. [_Exeunt. 
 
 ' Lav. Sister ! sister ! 
 
 Mai, Peace, lest you be soundly punislied, 
 sirrah ! 
 
 Fla. Good Trappolin, be quiet. 
 
 Lav. I am the Duke ! — I am LaAdnio ! 
 This is a fiend of hell, or an impostor. 
 
 Mac. Will your Highness suffer this ? 
 
 Tra. I pity him ; he knows not what he says. 
 
 Lav. I am bewitched ! 
 
 Mat. I am sure thou art distracted. 
 
 Tra. 'A done, you had best ! 
 
 Lav. Thou enemy unto our happiness, 
 Know the gods will relent ; in time be Avise ! 
 
 Tra. There is no remedy ; he must go to Pucan- 
 nello. 
 So ho ! Pucannello ! so ho ! 
 
 Puc. I come ! [JFithin. 
 
 Fla. There could come no better of it. Beseech 
 your Highness, pardon him ; he's distracted ! 
 
 Lav. You are all distracted, all bewitched ! 
 
 Lnter Pucannello. 
 
 Tra. Sirrah, take Trappolin, and lock him up safe. 
 
 Fla, You'd take no Avarning. 
 
 Lav. Oh, Florence, how I pity thy decay ! 
 
 Tra. Away with him ! 
 
 Mat. Pucannello, take him, and begone 
 
 Tra. You of the guards, see him laid safely up. 
 
 Lav. I will not go ! 
 
 Ptic. We then might force you. [Exeunt. 
 
 Fla. Alas ! poor Flametta ! thy Trappolin cares 
 not for thee. I beseech the gods to give him his 
 right senses again ! 
 
 Tra. Come, Ca^jtain ! 
 
 3Iat. I attend your Highness. [Exeunt.
 
 trappolin, 197 
 
 Scene v. 
 Enter Barbarino and Machavil. 
 
 Mac. The strange distraction of our Duke will give 
 Sufficient matter unto clii'onicles 
 To make whole volumes of him. 
 
 Bar. Yet he believes himself right in his senses, 
 And Ave, out of our wits, think him mad ! 
 
 Lavinio appears in prison. 
 
 Lav. Would I had been born to a mean estate, 
 So in 't I might have lived hajipily ! 
 The greater honours that men have, the greater 
 Their troubles are. The beggar that hath nothing 
 Lives a more quiet life than monarchs do. 
 Lord Barbarino and Lord Machavil, 
 Get me releas'd ! I am the Duke Lavinio, 
 Bewitched, as you are, by an imjiostor. 
 
 Bar. Go, Trappolin, and sleep. We have heard all— 
 Thou art run mad. 
 
 3Iac. Go sleep, poor Trappolin ! 
 
 Lav. Be kind ; good gods pity our miseries ! 
 
 Bar. Leave talking, and go sleep. 
 
 Enter Trappolin. 
 
 Mac. His Highness. 
 
 Bar. How fares our noble master 1 
 
 Tra. I have not been sober a day together this good 
 while. Eo, Meo, and Areo have made me foxed ; but 
 now I will leave it. 
 
 3Tac. Who are they 1 
 
 Bar. I know not. 
 
 Tra. It's in vain to lay them up any more, I 
 having had sport enough with them. — Trappolin, 
 whom you banish'd, is come home stark mad. 
 
 3Iac. Exceedingly. 
 
 Bar. And raves most strangely in prison.
 
 198 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Enter Flametta. 
 
 Fla. Here is his Highness. I will not leave him till 
 He doth release from prison TrapjDolin. 
 Most excellent sir, perfect your noble kindness — 
 Give liberty unto poor Trappolin ! 
 
 Tra. With all my heart I would, would he be quiet. 
 
 Fla. Alas ! he is distracted, and doth not know 
 What he says ; and therefore why should you regard 
 himi 
 
 Tm. Well, fair maid, for thy sake, that lovest him 
 so, he shall come out. Pucannello ! so ho ! Come 
 hither ! 
 
 Bar. He Avill do anything, and undo anything. 
 
 ilfrtc. Sure there was never such a duke i' th' world ! 
 
 Enter Horatio and Prudentia. 
 
 Tra. Welcome, sister and brother, I hope I may 
 say ! Are you married 1 — are you content 1 Tell me 
 if anything remains that I can do for you. Speak it, 
 for I am ready ; the Duke, your servant. 
 
 Pru. Most worthy brother, you have perfected our 
 joys, for we are married ! 
 
 Tra. I am very glad, lady sister, that you are so. 
 
 Hora. Here is your Highness' ring. 
 
 Enter Pucannello. 
 
 Tra. You, sirrah of chains and keys, set me Trap- 
 polin at liberty presently, and send him hither ! 
 
 Fuc. Will he never be wise 1 I would he would 
 make another jailor — I am weary of the place. I can 
 never be at quiet for putting in and setting out. 
 
 Fla. The heavens reward your goodness ! 
 
 [Exit Pucannello. 
 
 Tra. Brother and Prince Horatio, I am something 
 given to be drunk. Eo, Meo, and Areo are good fel- 
 lows ; but, I pray you, pardon me. 
 
 Hora. Sir, you wrong yourself. 
 
 Tra. My friend and Prince Horatio, I'll ne'er 
 ^\Tong myself, I warrant you. But you I have, and
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 199 
 
 my sister Prudentia ; but it was when I was foxed, 
 and I will never be so again. 
 
 Enter Mattemores and Hipolita. 
 
 Mac. I am glad he will once let us be quiet. 
 
 Bar. I should be very glad if he would continue it. 
 
 Tra. How now, Siguor Captain ! ha' you got a 
 sweetheart 1 
 
 Mat. A fair mistress, so please your Highness. 
 
 Tra. I see, my Don-at-arms, when you cannot follow 
 the wars of the field, you will of the bed. 
 
 Enter Lavinio. 
 
 Fla. Prithee, my Trappolin, now hold thy tongue ! 
 Be A^ase, my love. 
 
 Lav. Leave me, thou frantic fool ! 
 
 Tra. For Flametta's sake I have given you your 
 liberty ; use it well. 
 
 Lav. heavens ! endure not this impostor thus 
 With his enchantments to bewitch our eyes ! 
 
 Mac. Will he suffer him? 
 
 Bar, Perhaps one madman will pity another. 
 
 Lav. Ye Florentines, I am Lavinio — 
 I am the Tuscan Duke ; this an enchanter. 
 That by his magic art hath raised all 
 These strange chimeras in my court ! 
 
 Mat. Your Highness is too patient ; it were more 
 fit he rav'd in prison. 
 
 Fla. Sweet Trappolin, be rul'd. 
 
 Tra. Hold your tongue, I say. 
 
 Hora. Poor Trappolin ! art thou distracted too ? 
 
 Lav. You lords of Florence, wise Machavil, and 
 You, Lord Barbarino, will you never come 
 Out of this frenzy 1, Valiant Mattemores, 
 I am the Duke ! I am Lavinio ! 
 This, whom you do suppose is me, is some 
 Hellish magician, that hath bewitched us all ! 
 
 Tra. He will not be ruled. Pucannello, take him 
 
 agani !
 
 200 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Fla. Beseech your Highness ! — Trappolin, come 
 away. 
 
 Pru. Ah, my poor subjects, how I pity you, 
 That must obey the monstrous wickedness 
 Of one that works by necromantic means. 
 And is forsaken by the blessed gods ! 
 
 Tra. Away with him ! 
 
 Enter Mago. 
 
 Mago. Stay! 
 
 Tra. Yon 's father conjuror ! 
 
 Bar. A^Tiat new accident is this 1 
 
 Tra. I hope he'll do no hurt. 
 
 Hora. What Avill the event be, marie 1 
 
 Mat. What old long beard's this 1 
 
 Mago. A word with you ! 
 Will you, if I clear everything, 
 Pardon what's past ] 
 
 Lav. Do you know me, then ? 
 
 Mago. You are the Duke. 
 
 Tra. Father conjuror, do no hurt, and I'll give you 
 a hundred pistoles to buy you sallets and oil i'th' 
 wood. 
 
 Mago. I'll talk with you even now. 
 Will you promise me ? 
 
 Lav. I swear by all the honours of my state, 
 By both my dukedoms, Florence and Sienna, 
 I will forgive whatever's past ! 
 
 Mago. Him and all 1 
 
 Lav. Him and all. 
 
 Troj. Good father conjuror, remember your son ! 
 
 Mac. What will come of this ] 
 
 Alago. Be not affrighted. 
 
 Mat. Never, not I ! 
 
 Mago. Whate'er you see, 
 Fear not ; nothing shall hurt you. 
 
 Pru. This is a conjuror. 
 
 Hip. Sweet Captain, stand close by me. 
 
 Bar. What strange events are these 1 
 
 Mago. Eo, Meo, and Areo, appear !
 
 TRAPPOLIN. 201 
 
 Tra. I am undone, I fear. Father conjuror, re- 
 member your son. I'll give you two hundred pistoles ! 
 Mago. Appear, I say ! 
 
 Enter Eo, Meo, ami Areo. 
 
 Pru. Alas ! 
 
 Hwa. Fear nothing. 
 
 Hip. me ! 
 
 Mat. Be bold ; I am here, Hipolita ! 
 
 Ma.(jo. Go, take the hat, the glass, and cloak from 
 him. 
 
 Tra. Ah me ! ah me ! Here, here, here, here — come 
 not too near me! Eo, Meo, and Areo, farewell, all on 
 you ! Father conjuror has undone me ! 
 
 Bar. Trappolin 1 
 
 Mac. Two Trappolins ? 
 
 Fla. I know not which is mine ! 
 
 Mago. Attend a wliile ! 
 Thus, with the waste of this enchanted wand, 
 I do release your Highness. 
 
 Mat. The Duke ? 
 
 H(yra. Wonders ! 
 
 Mago. You have engaged your word : y'ave pardoned 
 all — me, who have done and undone everything, and 
 him, and everybody! 
 
 Lav. I have. 
 
 Mac. The heavens be praised ! Long live your 
 Highness ! 
 
 Omnes. Long live the Duke ! 
 
 Hofa. What will become of me 1 
 
 Mago. I'll perfect everything. 
 Brave Prince Horatio, your elder brother, 
 Prince Filberto, is dead. Sir, you cannot 
 With reason dislike this match ; they are 
 Married, and your consent doth perfect it. 
 
 Lav. Now I am assured he is a Turin prince, 
 Heir to the dukedom of Savoy, I am glad 
 They are espoused. Sister, I wish you joy! 
 Sir, I entreat forgiveness for what's past !
 
 202 TRAPPOLIN. 
 
 Hora. All's forgotten. 
 
 Pru. Thanks, gracious heavens ! 
 
 Lav. I'll have your wedding solemnized with 
 state. 
 
 Mac. I am glad this Gordian knot's untied, 
 
 Tra. I shall be hanged, father conjuror. 
 
 Mago. The Duke hath pardoned you and me all. 
 
 Tra. Then let Eo, Meo, and Areo go to the devil, 
 from whence they came. Flametta, I am tliine ! 
 
 Fla. Ah, my dear Trappolin ! 
 
 Tra. Here is your Highness' ring. 
 
 Mago. From henceforth I abjure my wicked art. 
 
 Hor. I for thy love to me will send thee into 
 Piedmont, and give thee an earldom in Vercelli. 
 
 Tra. The heavens reward you ! You know I 
 always made much of your Highness' majesty. Fla- 
 metta, thou shalt be a countess ! 
 
 Mago. Son Trappolin, I am thy natural father, 
 twenty years since banished ten years from Florence. 
 Through my misfortune I have served the Turk in 
 his galleys. 
 
 Tra. By your leave, father, you have served the 
 de^il too, I'm sure, for you are one of the best con- 
 jurors in the world. Welcome unto the court, your 
 son of honour, and to Flametta's earlship ! Will your 
 honours forgive me too 1 
 
 Mac. Yes. 
 
 Enter Isabella. 
 
 Bar. For the princess' sake, I do. 
 
 Tra. I thank you both. Now all's well again. 
 Henceforth I will live honestly, and be the devil's 
 butcher no lonsier ! 
 
 Lav. My Isabella, welcome ! Everything 
 That did molest our happiness in Florence 
 Is took away. Now we will spend our time 
 In courtly joys ; our famous Tuscan poets 
 Shall study amorous comedies and masks, 
 To entertain my beauteous Milaness.
 
 TRAPPOLIX. 203 
 
 I have a story full of ridiculous wonders, 
 Within to tell thee at our better leisure. 
 
 Tm. The weaker side must yield unto the stronger, 
 And Trappolin's suppos'd a Prince no longer. 
 
 [Exeunt omnes.
 
 The Epilogue. 
 
 Ladies and gentlemen, you that now may 
 
 Approve, or, if you please, condemn our play. 
 
 We thank you first ; for here it Avas not writ, 
 
 In sweet repose and fluencies of Avit, 
 
 But far remote — at Rome begun, half made 
 
 At Naples, at Paris the conclusion had. 
 
 Yet the perfection is behind, Avhich, if 
 
 You give's a plaudit, you in England give ; 
 
 Our nation's courteous unto strangers, nor 
 
 Should you refrain unto this traveller. 
 
 I must not sue ; there's nothing now remains 
 
 Saving the guerdon of our poet's pains : 
 
 He for himself is careless, only would 
 
 That for the actors' sakes you'd say 'tis good. 
 
 We are doubtful yet, your hands will set all right ; 
 
 Do what you please, and, gentlemen, good-night !
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF OVID.
 
 The Tragedy of Ovkl. Writtf:n hy Sir A-^ton Cokain, 
 Baronet. London, Printed for Phil. Stephen.^, jun., at the 
 King's Arms, over against Middle Temple Gate, in Fleet 
 Street. 1662. 
 
 The Tragedy of Ovid. Written by Sir Aston C'okain, 
 Baronet. London, Printed for Francis Kirkman, and are to 
 be sold at his shop, iinder St. Fthelborough's Church, in Bishops- 
 gate Street. 1669. 16?no.
 
 PuBLitrs OviDiTJS Naso, who gives the title to tliis tragedy, was 
 born at Suhno, on 20th March, about forty -three years before the 
 Christian era. Intended by his father for the bar, he was sent 
 early to Rome, thence, in his sixteenth year, to Athens ; but 
 although he excelled in the study of eloquence, the noturalbent 
 of his mind was poetry, and in despite of every remonstrance, 
 and the proverbial poverty of poets, he still continued to follow 
 in the wake of the Muse Erato. He soon gained admirers, and 
 Virgil, TibuUus, Propertius, and Horace corresponded with him. 
 Augustus himself patronized him most liberally ; but having 
 incurred that Emperor's displeasure, he was, in his fiftieth year, 
 banished to Tomos, a town on the western shores of the Euxine 
 Sea. The cause of this sudden exile is doubtful, but these lines 
 from his pen Avould seem to indicate that it was in consequence 
 of his having come to a knowledge of some great impropriety in 
 the court or family of Augustus : 
 
 Again 
 
 " Cur aliquid vidi ? Cur noxia lumina feci ? 
 Cur imprudenti cognita culpa mihi est? 
 Nescius Actason vidit sine veste Dianam, 
 Frieda fuio canibus noa minus lUe suis." 
 
 " Nescia quod crimen viderunt lumina plector, 
 Peccatumque oculos est habuisse meum." 
 
 And further : 
 
 " Perdidertint cum me duo crimina, carmen et error, 
 Alterius tacti culpa silenda mihi est." 
 
 In his banishment, Ovid applied frequently to the Emperor, 
 in lines of entreaty and adulation, for a remission of his sentence, 
 but without effect ; nor was Tiberius more yielding than his pre- 
 decessor to Ovid's petitions, backed though they were by many 
 ardent and influential friends at Rome. He did not live long 
 after this. His death took place in the fifty-iunth year of his 
 age, A.D. 17, and he was buried in the land of his exile. 
 
 The greater part of Ovid's poems are extant. His Metamor- 
 phoses, in fifteen books, are curious, on account of the mytho- 
 logical traditions which they record. His Fasti were divided 
 into twelve books, six of which have been lost, which is much 
 to be regretted, as, judging from the books wliich remain, much 
 liglit would have been thrown upon the religious rites and cere- 
 monies, festivals and sacrifices, of the ancient Romans. His 
 Tristia, in five books, as well as his Elegies, exhibit much ele- 
 gance and refinement of expression. The Heroidcs are, in 
 poetic diction, excellent. His three books of Amorum, and the 
 same number Dt Arte Ainandi, with the De Remedio Amoris,
 
 208 OVID. 
 
 are equally redolent of fine poetic imagery, but their insidious 
 tendency is apt to corrupt the heart and engender immorality. 
 He wrote some other pieces, among which is a fragment of a 
 ti'agedy called Medea, no douht influenced by the common belief 
 that it was at Tomos where Medea cut to pieces the body of her 
 Ijrother Absyrtus. Ovid was thrice married. He had only 
 one daughter, but by which of his three wives is unknown ; she 
 herself became the mother of two children by two husbands. 
 
 Of Ovid's Tragedy, Langbaine — Art. Cokain — says: "This 
 play was printed since the rest of his works, though 'tis fre- 
 quently bound with them. I know not why the author gave 
 this play the title of Ovid's Tragedy, except that he lays the 
 scene in Tomos, and brings him to fall do^vn dead with grief at 
 the news he received from Rome, in sight of the audience ; 
 otherwise he has not much business on the stage, and the play 
 ought rather to have taken the name from Bassanes' jealousy 
 and the dismal effects thereof, — the murder of his new bride 
 Clorina, and his friend Pyrontus. But this is an error which 
 Beaumont and Fletcher have heretofore committed, as Mr. 
 Rymer has observed, in A King and No King, and therefore 
 more excusable in our author. The passage of Captain Han- 
 nibal's inviting the dead carcase of Helvidius to supper is 
 possibly borrowed from the Italian play called II Atheisto 
 Fulminato, to which language our author was no stranger, and 
 on which foundation the catastrophe of The Libertine is built," 
 i.e. Moliere's Don Juan, ou le festin de Pierre. Some portions 
 of the plot and langiiage, which in themselves are good, derive 
 their source from Ovid's Elegies. The situation of Alonzo, 
 Carlos, and Leonora, in Young's Revenge, is not unlike that of 
 Bassanes, Pyrontus, and Clorina in this tragedy. 
 
 Charles Cotton, to whom this play is dedicated, is best kno'wni 
 from having been the friend of Izaak Walton, and autlior of the 
 second part of the Complete Angler, He resided for a great 
 part of his life at Beresford, in the county of Stafford. He 
 had some reputation for lyric poetry, but was particularly famous 
 for burlesque poetry. He translated Corneille's /Horace, printed 
 in 4to, 1671, with a dedication to his dear sister, Mrs. Stanhope 
 Hutchinson. Of his burlesque works, Scarronides, or Virgil 
 Travestie, which appeared in 1678, and has been frequently 
 reprinted, has been always regarded as exceeding not only the 
 French, but all those who made any attempts in that kind of 
 poetry, the incomparable author of Hudihras excepted. His 
 translation of ilontaigne's Essays, in three volumes, is still 
 considered the best. Some of his minor poems, published 
 collectively in 1689, are of great excellence, and the vohime has 
 commendatory verses by Colonel Lovelace, Sir Aston Cockain, 
 Robert Herrick, and Mr. Alexander Brome. 
 
 The date of his death is uncertain, but it has been conjec- 
 tured that it was some time after the Revolution.
 
 TO MY MOST HIGHLY HONOURED COUSIN, 
 CHARLES COTTON, Esq. 
 
 Noble Cousin, as soon as I had finished this play of 
 mine, called the Tragedy of Ovid, I sent it to wait 
 upon you at your house in Beresford, where it found 
 so courteous and generous an entertainment, that I 
 should accuse myself of much ingratitude did I not 
 dedicate^ it to you, and entreat your favour that it 
 might visit the Avorld under the secure patronage of 
 your authentic name. I beseech you, therefore, to 
 afford it so much grace, and to give it leave to lie in 
 your parlour window, since you have been pleased to 
 signalize it with two excellent epigrams. This is but 
 a small testimony of my thankfulness to you for an 
 abundancy of high and obliging favours that I have, 
 upon all occasions, received from you. To Avhich you 
 will infinitely add by continuing in your good opinion, 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Your very affectionate kinsman. 
 
 And most humble servant, 
 
 Aston Cokain.
 
 AN EPIGRAM. 
 
 TO THE AUTHOK, 
 UPON HIS TRAGEDY OF OVID. 
 
 Long live the poet and his lovely muse, 
 
 The stage with wit and learning to infuse ! 
 
 Embalm him in immortal elegy, 
 
 My gentle Naso ; for if he should die 
 
 Who makes thee live, thou 'It be again pursu'd, 
 
 And banish'd heaven for ingratitude ! 
 
 Transform again thy Metanm-phoses 
 
 In one, and turn thy various shapes to his. 
 
 A tAvin-born muse in such embraces curl'd 
 
 As shall subject the scribblers of the world, 
 
 And, spite of time and envy, henceforth sit, 
 
 The ruling gemini of love and wit. 
 
 So two pure streams in one smooth channel glide, 
 
 In even motion, without ebb or tide, 
 
 As in your pens Tiber and Anchor meet. 
 
 And tread meanders with their silver feet. 
 
 Both soft, both gentle, both transcending high, 
 Both skill'd alike in charming elegy ; 
 So equally admired, the laurel's due, 
 Without distinction, both to him and you. 
 
 Naso was Eome's fam'd Ovid ; you alone 
 Must be the Ovid to our Albion, 
 In all things equal, saving in this case, 
 Our modern Ovid has the better grace. 
 
 Charles Cotton, Pkilodramatos.
 
 TO THE AUTHOE, OX CAPTAIN HANNIBAL. 
 AN EPIGRAM. 
 
 Your Captain Hannibal does snort and pufF, 
 
 Arm'd in liis brazen face and greasy buff, 
 
 'Mongst Puncks and Panders, and can rant and roar 
 
 With Cacala the turd and his poor wliore ; 
 
 But I would wish his valour not mistake us, 
 
 All captains are not like his brother Dacus. 
 
 Advise him, then, be quiet, or I shall 
 
 Bring Captain Hough to baste your Hannibal. 
 
 Charles Cotton,
 
 DRAMATIS PEESOX.E. 
 
 Pyrontus, . . 
 Phylocles, . . 
 Bassanes, . . 
 Marullus, . . 
 Phcebiaxus, . . 
 
 called also 
 Hannibal, . . 
 Cacala, . . . 
 publius ovidius 
 Dacus, . . . 
 
 A young Lord. 
 
 His Friend. 
 
 A young Lord. 
 
 His Friend. 
 
 Pyrontus' younger Brother, 
 
 Caralinda. 
 
 A hanish'd Italian Cajritain. 
 
 A young Fellow, his man. 
 
 Naso. 
 
 A Getic Captain. 
 
 Clorina, . 
 Armelina, 
 
 Cypassis, 
 Spixella, 
 Floretta, 
 
 Bassanes' Bride. 
 
 Her Sister. 
 
 A Bated. 
 
 Her Laughter, a Courtezan of Tomos. 
 
 A Roman Courtezan. 
 
 Maskers. 
 
 A Spectre. 
 
 Servants. 
 
 The Scene : — 
 Tomos, a city in Pontus.
 
 THE PliOLOGUE. 
 
 A MANY famous poets do not refuse 
 
 With prologues to usher in the tragic muse : 
 
 The reason, gallants, I presume to say 
 
 To Tomos you are welcome all to-day. 
 
 For fear, lest when y'ave seen 't, you should repent 
 
 [Of loss which then you cannot "well prevent], 
 
 I tell you, though our play is new, 'tis writ 
 
 After an ill old mode, with little wit ; 
 
 For in it there is a devil and a fool — • 
 
 Such sights as boys affect that go to school. 
 
 This said, you have our leave, without offence. 
 
 To take your money again, and to go hence. 
 
 Nothing of Ovid, then ! Enough, enough 
 
 Dancing and fighting, and much amorous stuff. 
 
 If any of these invite your stay, pray know 
 
 AVe hope to please you, whether you will or no. 
 
 But if you shall dislike it, gentlemen, 
 
 Revenge yourselves, and never see 't again !
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF Y I D. 
 
 Act I. — Scene i. 
 
 Enter Pyrontus furioushj, inieiuUng to fall upon Ms 
 sword, and Phylocles after Mm, who icith Ms foot 
 strikes it away. 
 
 Pyr. Uncivil man, begone ! before my rage 
 Increases above my troubled patience, 
 And I for this untimely courtesy 
 INIake thee to harbinger my soul in death ! 
 
 Phyh Alas, my lord ! why will you take away 
 The noblest life that ever honour'd Pontus % 
 I pray you, think upon't. 
 
 Pyr. I am resolved ; 
 
 Nor a^tII I live to see Clorina made 
 A wife to any man besides myself. 
 
 PMjl. Ah : who would not run mad, and tear his 
 hair, 
 And weep until his eyeballs did dissolve, 
 To see the bravest man of all this land 
 So passionate, and for a scornful lady ? 
 
 Pyr. Kill me, Phylocles ! thou wilt do a deed 
 The gods will love thee for ; for I am one 
 Full of those things that virtuous souls abhor, 
 Else sure Clorina would not use me thus. 
 
 Phyl. To my own death, to do you real service. 
 You may command me readily, my lord ; 
 But to entice me to advance my hand 
 Against your life — great Jove, and alHhe gods 
 Whom wc do reverence and fear, forbid !
 
 216 OVID. 
 
 Pyr. Pliylocles, dost thou love me ? 
 
 Fhyl. You know, my lord, I do, above my life ! 
 In our late wars, when we did aid our friends 
 The fortunate Eomans, I attended you ; 
 And when your horse's fall left you a prey 
 Unto the barbarous cruelty of the Parthians, 
 I, careless of my life, ran to your aid, 
 And brought you off through many of their deaths. 
 Command me anytliing, so you except 
 Your noble life, and I will do it freely ! 
 
 Pyr. As well except you will not stir a foot 
 To do your friend the greatest favour for him, 
 "NVliich with an ease, so easy as is walking, 
 You may perform. 
 
 Phyl. AVhat would you have me do 1 
 
 Pyr. Begone, my Phylocles I Is this a day 
 For me to honour ■\^•ith mj- life, wherein 
 Clorina, slighting all my years of service, 
 "Which I have paid to her with as great fervour 
 As any of our priests adore the gods, 
 Will give away herself unto Bassanes 1 
 Awaj^, my friend, and let me die ! 
 
 PhyJ. My lord, I will obey you, on condition 
 That I may find you as I leave you — safe. 
 And, till I see you next, untouched, and li\'ing I 
 I have some hope I may bring comfort with me — 
 Calm all these passions, and create a joy 
 That may occasion triumphs in your heart. 
 
 Pyr. Go then, my friend, and prosper ; but be sure 
 Thou dost not trifle with me. Thou well knoAvest 
 The nature of PjTontus is averse 
 To suffering of abuses. 
 
 PhyJ. I am gone. 
 
 With hope to bring you comfort speedily. \_Exit. 
 
 Pyr. False tyrant, love ! I would I had thee here ! 
 With thy own bow I'd shoot such passions in thee 
 As should be overstrong for thee to bear. 
 Fond boj' ! I'd make thee dote on chaste Diana, 
 And pluck thy golden feathers from thy wings, 
 To write with them repentance to the world.
 
 OVID. 217 
 
 Which of the fatal sisters did provoke 
 
 Thee, careless of man's happiness, to do 
 
 Those bloody deeds which thou art famous for 1 
 
 0, that I knew her ! and when I am dead 
 
 I'd pass the dreadful waves of Phlegethon 
 
 But I would find her, and destroy her too ! 
 
 Upon Ixion's wheel I'd torture her, 
 
 Till with her baleful cries she did awake 
 
 The porter Cerberus from his drowsy den ; 
 
 Then Avould I give her body unto him, 
 
 And he should eat it, and she be forgot. 
 
 But, cruel love, hadst thou been kind to me, 
 
 And equal fire raged in Clorina's breast, 
 
 Not only in Tomos, but throughout all Pontus, 
 
 I Avould have raised altars to thy praise. 
 
 Where night and day, whilst time makes night and 
 
 day, 
 I would have had such anthems caroll'd to thee 
 By happy lovers, that eternal Jove 
 Should have wish'd himself to have been the god of 
 
 love ! 
 
 E7iter Ovid, Phylocles, and Armelina. 
 
 Fhyl. My lord ! the beauteous lady Armelina, 
 Attended by the poets' glory, 0\id, 
 By the entreaty of the excellent bride, 
 Are come to woo you to your life ! 
 
 Pyr. 'Tis a miraculous kindness that the fair 
 Clorina on this solemn day affords me. 
 Had she but pleased t' have been so merciful 
 In former times, I had not drooped thus 
 Now all the city Tomos lays aside 
 Neglected care, and puts on jollity, 
 ]\Iadam, what is the pleasure of my deity ? 
 And thou, full soul of poetry, sweet Ovid, 
 What unimagin'd harmony of comfort 
 Bring you unto me 1 
 
 Arm. My lord, if that my sister 
 
 Still doth retain the least of power over you.
 
 218 OVID. 
 
 By me she doth entreat you to continue 
 Among tlie living. By all the love you have 
 Profess'd unto her, she conjures you t' bear 
 The chances of this day worthy your birth 
 And all the noble actions of your life. 
 
 Ovicl. It is an unbecoming weakness in you, 
 Degenerating from the former fulness 
 Of all your honours, all your immense knowledge 
 Of sage philosophy, and of yourself, 
 Thus to captive your reason, and become 
 Slave to the passions of an heart let loose 
 To the pursuit of barbarous appetites. 
 
 Ptjr. Sweet Armelina ! you whose every word 
 Strikes music through my ears unto my soul — 
 You who in your soft language have apparell'd 
 The commands of my goddess, must have power 
 To make me die continually by living. 
 
 Ovid. Assume a better courage, and contemn 
 These trifles which you rashly deem misfortunes. 
 My lord ! you are the glory of this country, — 
 The basis upon which not only Tomos, 
 But the nobility of Pontus, build 
 Their glories on, instructed hitherto 
 By imitating you, their great example. 
 A little time may alter your opinion 
 Of beauty. You may chance to see ere long 
 Another lady that may please you better ; 
 And then this day you do account so miserable 
 You in your calendar will mark a festival. 
 
 Pyr. Peace, gentle Ovid ! this is blasphemy 
 Against the divinity of her fair soul, 
 And that rich heaven of happiness, her body. 
 Jove hath no beauty like her on Olympus : 
 She's nature's masterpiece, and glorifies 
 This angle of the Avorld so, that I prize it 
 Above triumphant Rome, and all the splendours 
 The court of great Tiberius is renowned for. 
 
 Ovid. You shall overcome me, so you will your- 
 self: 
 Say anything, my lord, and I will hear you —
 
 OVID, 219 
 
 Do anything, and I will honour it, 
 
 So you forbear to trespass 'gainst your life ! 
 
 Arm. My sister doth expect, if you have ever 
 Borne real affection to her, that you should 
 Return her word by me that you will lose 
 This resolution of self-murder. She will 
 Love you as far as honour will give leave, 
 Entertain welcomely your company 
 And conversation, whilst you prove yourself 
 Delighted with her virtue. And she knows 
 The Lord Bassanes will most joyfully 
 Continue you within the catalogue 
 Of his friends most belov'd, while you exceed not 
 The limits of a candid amity, 
 Nor attempt treason to her nuptials. 
 
 Phyl. I see a calmness in your looks, my friend. 
 Thanks, gracious madam, for your pains ; and may 
 Thy Roman gods reward this kindness, Ovid ! 
 Yet he were savage that had ears so deaf, 
 And dull an intellect, as not to yield 
 To your great reason and most eloquent tongue. 
 
 Ovid. Your partial love doth too much overvalue 
 My poor endeavours. Hark ! [Music ivithin. 
 
 Arm. The music doth 
 
 Invite us in. Pray ! glorify this ceremony 
 With your fair presence. 
 
 Phyl. Hymen will, my lord, 
 
 Owe you a blessing for it. 
 
 Ovid. Light a more 
 
 Auspicious torch, and, for a courtesy 
 So timely given, drown your more happy head 
 With future bliss above your hopes. [Exit Ovid. 
 
 Pyr. Lead in ! 
 
 I'll but collect myself and follow you. Armelina ! 
 
 Arm. You will oblige us all. 
 
 Pyr. My friend Phylocles ! 
 
 Phyl. I am here, my lord. 
 
 Pyr. Oh, how a thousand passions combat here ! 
 But which of them shall prove predominant 1 
 Commands, received from my fair, cruel mistress,
 
 220 OVID. 
 
 Already have determined what strange miracles, 
 
 Great deity of love, are in thy power ! 
 
 Aflfection prompts me to advance my hand, 
 
 And turn the genial bed into an nrn 
 
 By setting this Bassanes' soul at liberty. 
 
 But I must needs recall this infant thought, 
 
 Or an inglorious stain may fix upon 
 
 My reputation. He was ever noble 
 
 In all his actions to me, and we 
 
 Have long ago contracted such a friendship 
 
 That it hath been look'd on as an example 
 
 "Worthy an imitation. Besides, he 
 
 Was never made acquainted Avith my love ; 
 
 He, then, is innocent of any injury 
 
 Committed against me, and doth no more 
 
 Than I. The bright Clorina he affects, 
 
 And so do I ; and so must all the world 
 
 That are not blind, or senseless, when they see her. 
 
 His stars befriend him, and those eyes of heaven 
 
 Did look a squint at my nativity ; 
 
 And he hath far more merit to deserve her. 
 
 Come, Phylocles ! She is my only goddess. 
 
 And I must quit me of profaneness, too ; 
 
 What she commands, strike no forbidden blow. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene ii. 
 Enter Dacus, Cypassis, and Spinella. 
 
 SjAn. Mother ! Captain Dacus promis'd me a new 
 gown against this masque, and hath not kept his 
 word with me. I desire, therefore, I may be quit of 
 his company. 
 
 Dae. Pretty grumbling heart ! my tenants are slow 
 in paying their rents ; I else had not failed thee. But 
 you are very fine as you are, Venus be thanked ! 
 
 Spin. That's no cost of yours. I am the more be- 
 holden to another friend.
 
 OVID. 221 
 
 Dae. To whom ? the bridegroom, I warrant you, 
 Spinella. 
 
 Sphi. 'Tis he indeed ! 
 
 Vyp. The Lord Bassanes was ever her noble 
 
 patron. 
 Dae. But I hope she will lose his bounty hereafter, 
 Cypassis. 
 
 Spin. Your jealousy prompts you to talk thus. 
 Cijp. After honeymoon's past, he may return to her 
 again. 
 
 Spin. You shall become more liberal, or I will 
 shortly cashier you from my acquaintance. What ! 
 do you think We venture reputation for nothing but 
 oaths, flattering Avords, and a little foolish pleasure % 
 
 Cyp. Indeed, son, a young gentlewoman must be 
 maintained \\dth other materials. If she goes not fine 
 and cleanly, she is not fit for good company ; and if 
 she keeps never so little a wliile ill, and it comes to 
 be known, she may bid farewell for ever to all her 
 holidays ; the honourable and Avorshipful will not 
 care for her embraces. 
 
 Dae. Are you against me too, mother 1 I had 
 thought Madam Cypassis had had a great kindness 
 for me than so. 
 
 Cyp. Captain Dacus ! you know I have much re- 
 spected you from our first acquaintance ; but you 
 must think of performing better with Spinella for the 
 future. My poor girl else will not be able to live 
 decently in the fashion, unless she should live more 
 common than I could wish. 
 
 Spun. Mother! you shall not need to fear that, for I 
 can be married when I "will, and this Avedding of 
 my dear old friend invites me much to take that 
 course. Juno ! direct me to the best, for Venus, 
 whom I have hitherto served, is but an ill tutress ! 
 
 Dae. Prithee, sweet Spinella, leave this melancholy 
 discourse ; it sounds too unkindly, especially on a 
 marriage day. "We should noAv talk of love, maiden- 
 heads, music, banquets, masques, and so forth. 
 
 Spin. Captain Dacus ! I must confess my genius is
 
 222 OVID. 
 
 towards mirth indeed ; but you must not, then, give 
 me cause of sorroAv. 
 
 Cyj). The truth is, Captain, you must not ^De so 
 close-handed for the future. The Lord Bassanes 
 being married, peradventure may turn foolishly uxo- 
 rious ; and then you must either get you better 
 tenants 
 
 Spin. Or a new mistress. 
 
 Dae. Still in this key 1 
 
 Cyp. What hath been done yet hath been kept 
 private, and so it concerned all our reputations ; 
 but, now I think better on it, it is your best way, 
 Spinella, to take a husband if he be worth having. 
 
 Spin. He can scarce be worse than this servant. 
 
 Dae. Pretty one ! afford me better words, for I 
 dearly love thee ; and, though I never made use of 
 my credit yet in that kind, I will take up a new gown 
 for thee to-morrow. On that condition I may take it 
 up as often as I will. 
 
 Spin. Then you shall have leave to do your best, 
 or worst. 
 
 Cyp. Agreed, agreed ! 
 'Tis well y' are come. 
 
 Enter Marullus. 
 
 Spin. We thought Bassanes had forgotten us ; but 
 we meant, you see, to come unsent for. 
 
 Mar. You might have been welcome if you had ; I 
 should have got you good places. But Bassanes is a 
 gentleman of his word, and hath sent me to conduct 
 you accordingly. 
 
 Spin. I thank his bridegroomship. 
 
 Mar. You are angry, I ><^arrant you, that he's 
 married. 
 
 S2yin. Not I, Venus bear me record ! Much good 
 do him with his fresh meat ; he will be M^eary of it, no 
 doubt, ere long, as he hath been with others. So you 
 may tell him, Marullus. 
 
 Mar. And then you hope for him again 1
 
 OYiD. 223 
 
 Cyp. Juno and Diana defend ! I dare swear she 
 hath no such thoughts. 
 
 Dae. So durst not I. 
 
 Mar. Nor I. 
 
 Spin. I care not what you say ; you are both 
 minded to jest with me. But is not the young 
 Phoebianus returned from Eome against these solem- 
 nities ] 
 
 Mar. PjTontus wrote for him. 
 
 Cyp. 'Tis marvel Bassanes would not stay for his 
 arrival. 
 
 Spin. No wonder at all ; all men are so mad of a 
 new face when they can get it. 
 
 Cyp. Though often they leave a better for it. 
 
 Dae. Well said, mother ! thou speakest oracles, old 
 Cypassis. 
 
 Mar. With some regret. This marriage is not yet 
 digested by them in earnest. I must entreat you to 
 beware of your behaviours. You are desir'd to pre- 
 tend no acquaintance to the bridegroom. These slips 
 of youth are fit to be conceal'd. 
 
 Spin. Or Clorina may grow jealous ? 
 
 Mar. 'Tis good preventing the worst. 'Tis time 
 we walk. [Exeunt omnes. 
 
 Scene hi. 
 
 Loud music, then enter Pyrontus, Bassanes, Phy- 
 LOCLEs, Ovid, Clorina, Armelina. 
 
 Bas. Welcome for ever to my hand, Clorina, 
 Who long hast been the regent of my heart ! 
 This day hath made me owner of such riches, — 
 The mine of joys in my delicious bride, — 
 That I our mightiest Csesar do not envy. 
 Why does my dearest blush ] because thy modesty 
 Doth see so many beauties here inferior 
 To thy supremest one ? But blush on, fairest. 
 Like to a setting sun, at the approach
 
 224: OVID. 
 
 Of this so longed-for niglit, that's to determine 
 Your A'irgin honour. 
 
 Clor. Now you make me bkish 
 
 Indeed, my lord. 
 
 Pyr. I wish you, madam, a life so circled in 
 AVith joy, that you may never breathe a sigh ; 
 And, when you sliall grow weary of the earth, 
 Become Jove's dotage, and be Queen of heaven. 
 
 Clor. My Lord Pyrontus, I return you thanks. 
 And hope th' immortal gods will recompense 
 This kindness with an happiness transcending 
 Whatever yet you could desire ! 
 
 Orid. May heaven 
 
 Propitiously smile on you with all those 
 Bright ties that do enlighten night and day ! 
 
 Arm. I did not think this city could have shown 
 A multitude so gallant of both sexes. 
 
 Has. They come, I thank them, to grace our 
 nuptials. 
 
 Fhyl. They come, no doubt, to see and to be seen. 
 
 Enter Marullus, Dacus, Cypassis, Spinella. 
 
 Mar. Hymen be praised, we are come in time ! 
 
 Cij]). Venus, bless mine eyes, what a fine show is 
 here ! 
 
 S2)in. Indeed, Captain Dacus, you have endeared 
 me much ; 
 We are beholding to your lusty shoulders, 
 That made a pretty lane through all the crowd. 
 
 Bac. My best of strength shall evermore attend 
 To do you service. 
 
 Mar. Here let us keep together ; 
 
 This is the best room that is left. Pray tell me, 
 How do you like the bride 1 Do not her eyes 
 Dart subtle rays, such as may kindle fires 
 Within the breasts of all mankind 1 
 
 Spin. I do not know how some may love heart- 
 burning. 
 
 Cijp. It is a pretty lady, but I have seen 
 Some faces that have seemed as well.
 
 OVID. 225 
 
 Mar. Oil ! envy, Madam Cypassis ! Where, beseech 
 you ? 
 
 Dae. I hope Spinella would be loth enough 
 To change with her. 
 
 Spin. I am not yet a- weary 
 
 Of mine own. 
 
 Bas. It doth grow late, and time they did begin. 
 
 Ovid. They only waited your commands. 
 
 Mar. That's Publius Ovidius Naso, the chief poet 
 Not only of Eome, but all the mighty empire. 
 
 Cyp. I know him well enough, and was acquainted 
 Many years with him ere I saw this country. 
 
 Ovid. May music bring 
 Some deities from Olympus' top, to grace 
 This night's solemnities ! 
 
 "^o^ 
 
 The Mask. 
 
 Tlie Masquers all attired according to the fancies of the 
 ancient poets. 
 
 After a flourish of loud music, enter Hymen, Cupid, 
 and Venus, singing. 
 
 Ven. I smil'd with eyes that darted rays 
 
 Of sweet desire on cither's face. 
 Cup. And I such shafts did put in ure* 
 
 As only they themselves could cure. 
 Hym. And I, love's best physician, quick found 
 
 Each other's hand, might heal each other's 
 wound. 
 Ven. May they dissolve in love, yet prove 
 
 No diminution by their love. 
 Cup. May they their fears and pain requite. 
 
 And spend, in such revenge, this night. 
 Hym. "Whate'er they do, they may with ardent 
 zeal. 
 
 For they have licence under my great seal. 
 
 * Use. 
 P
 
 226 OVID. 
 
 Enter Mercury. 
 
 Mer. Jove hath commanded me to let you know 
 You shall not want a grace that heaven can show ; 
 By virtue, therefore, of my sacred wand, 
 Juno and Pallas hither I command, 
 That they, Avith Venus, may again contest 
 To whom belongs the golden apple best. 
 And Paris, by my caduceus' power, 
 I charge to come from thy Elysium bower. 
 Now let thy doom meet the just will of Jove, 
 And thou shalt feast with deities above — 
 Forego thy solitary shades, and sit 
 A judge upon Olympus for thy wit. 
 
 Enter JuNO and Pallas. 
 
 Pal. Wherefore are we thus summoned to appear 
 To human view and to these mortals here ? 
 
 Jun. I hope Jove now will not disturb our reign, 
 And fall in love Avith Avomankind again. 
 
 Pal. Surely long since. Queen of the deities, 
 He did abandon terrene vanities. 
 
 Jun. Daughter ! he SAvore, by Dis, to me himself, 
 He Avould for ever leave all amorous stealth ; 
 For Juno cannot but suspect the Avorse, 
 He once so long continued such a course. 
 
 Pal. Pallas hath often blush'd to hear Mars tell. 
 Following his father's steps he did but Avell; 
 My brother was to blame. 
 
 Jun. Alas, my son 
 
 Gloried to imitate what JoA'e had done ! 
 Your sister Venus Avas a handsome child. 
 
 Pal. And Mars, when he was young, was very 
 wild. 
 
 Mer. Saturnia, needless I do knoAV your fears ; 
 Had Jove meant so, he'd not haA^e met you here. 
 Paris is sIoav in his approach ; sure some 
 Fine dreams have fix'd him in Elysium. 
 Again I must command him to appear.
 
 OVID. 227 
 
 Enter Paris. 
 
 Par. You need not, Maia's son, for I am here. 
 I had not made such stay, but was in talk 
 With my fair Queen in a delicious walk, 
 Where Agamemnon and the Spartan king, 
 And all those many Princes they did bring 
 To fight for the revenge of that fam'd rape, 
 Did laugh at our discourse, not envy at. 
 Thrice happy are those shades, where none do hear 
 Those passions that so tyrannize it here. 
 The Grecian chieftains have a thousand times 
 Curs'd their own rage that cross'd us in our crimes ; 
 For when their wiser souls were loosened from 
 Their bodies, forced unto Elysium 
 By violent deaths, and clearly understood 
 Those follies they had sealed with their blood, 
 Amazement seiz'd upon them all. Our Troy, 
 Which that so fatal quarrel did destroy, 
 Had flourished still in pomp — all they and we 
 Had liv'd in peace and in felicity, 
 And died in our own beds, had they been bless'd 
 T' have had those thoughts wherewith th' are now 
 
 possess'd. 
 We are not jealous in those plains of bliss : 
 They for fruition care not, there, that kiss. 
 Helen of Greece and I, without despite 
 To Menelaus' self, take what delight 
 Pleaseth us there the most. Every one there 
 Slights those things most they doted upon here. 
 Our bodies being compos'd of elements, 
 Incline mankind to seek to please the sense ; 
 But there our spirits, being unconfin'd, 
 Strive at the satisfaction of the mind. 
 Though souls embrace, they organs want and places 
 To raise a jealousy at their embraces ; 
 We at our old amours do often laugh. 
 
 Mer. Then you was in discourse, which I broke off"! 
 
 Par. No matter, Mercury, 'tis fit I pay 
 My duty unto Jove, and him obey.
 
 228 OYID. 
 
 What, therefore, is his will, that I may soon 
 Submit to his inevitable doom "? 
 
 j\[er. You must again an umpire be, and tell, 
 In beauty, which of these doth most excel. 
 
 Par. My judgment I have given once, and why 
 Should that again to my discussion lye ? 
 
 Mer. 'Tis Jove's decree, and he, if you refrain, 
 Will make you subject unto Pluto's reign, —   
 From the Elysium plains remove you quite, 
 And cast you into an eternal night ; 
 Instead of Helen's voice, where evermore 
 You shall hear Cerberus' bark, Cocytus' roar ; 
 And dreadful Phlegethon, with horrid noise, 
 Torment your ears as darkness shall your eyes. 
 
 Par. I must submit. 
 
 Mer. Here, take this golden ball, 
 
 And give't to her that's handsom'st of them all. 
 
 Par. I shall, in my opinion, doom aright, 
 But wish that Jove had chose some other wight. 
 But the last time these goddesses employed 
 Me in this kind, it was on sacred Ide ; 
 Why therefore here, in so remote a town, 
 And countries so far distant from mine own 1 
 
 Mer. Cast but your eyes about this crowded place, 
 And you may judge it is to do a grace 
 To some in this fair company. 
 
 Hynri: To-day, 
 
 That generous youthful pair became my prey. 
 
 Cup. But they had never been your captives bound. 
 If I had not compelled them by a wound. 
 
 Mer. Jupiter, to do honour to this night, 
 Hath summoned these t' apjiear to human sight, 
 And hath commanded you, before this throng, 
 To give that apple where 't doth most belong. 
 Be well advised, after exact survey. 
 How you dispose the golden fruit away. 
 
 Par. Prime goddesses of the Olympic court. 
 That Paris grace again with your resort, 
 I on my knees beg leave, that what I do 
 For one may not offend the other two ;
 
 OVID. 229 
 
 Because our poets have profess'd that we 
 Have been afflicted for my first decree, 
 For thence two of you did our foes become, 
 And hastened on the sack of Ilium. 
 I must obey imperious Jove's command. 
 
 Fen. And we to thy arbitrament will stand. 
 
 Juno. I do protest, by all my rule above, 
 I'll not be angry, howsoe'er it prove. 
 
 Pal. And, Priam's son, I will be nothing stirr'd, 
 Or discontent, if others be preferr'd. 
 
 Par. Having implor'd your mercies, now I fall 
 To look to whom belongs the golden ball. 
 Juno hath sweet black eyes, Pallas fine hair, 
 Venus is just proportion' d, wondrous fair. 
 As I have done before, again I must — 
 Venus, the ball's thine, and my judgment just. 
 
 [Gives it to lur. 
 
 Juno. To tax thy doom were but a needless shift. 
 
 Pal. Nor do we qwyj her the pretty gift. 
 
 Ven. To show there is no falling out, let's all 
 Fall in, and dance, before this pair, a ball. 
 
 Juno. You and I, Trojan i^rince, will lead the sport 
 You have been famous for in Priam's court. 
 
 Par. Supremest goddess, you a grace confer 
 Too high upon your humble honourer. 
 
 Juno. Hymen, Cupid, and Maia's son, advance ! 
 Let's show these mortals an Olympic dance. 
 
 All the Maskers dance. 
 
 After a flourish of solemn loxid music, enter Jupiter. 
 
 Mer. The king of gods and men ! Hail, thund'ring 
 
 Jove ! 
 Pal. Why hath my father left his throne above 1 
 Jup. Perceiving Venus and her wanton son. 
 To do some service, were by Hymen won. 
 From my star-jjaved court, and looking down 
 Upon the world, and, in it, on this town, 
 I soon es|)ied the Inisiness ; therefore, straight 
 Summon'd you both to meet, this nuptial night,
 
 230 OVID. 
 
 My daughter Venus, here that we might do 
 A grace divine unto these happy two. 
 How Paris hath bestowed the ball I've seen ; 
 But give it me again, you amorous Queen 
 Of Cyprus, it hereafter must not be 
 A trophy to the Paphian deity. 
 
 V^en. Great Jupiter, I yield to thy command. 
 
 Jup. And I thus give it t' a more beauteous hand. 
 
 [Gives it Clorina. 
 Here may you ilourish long in bliss ! and when 
 You weary grow of the abodes of men, 
 I'll fix you both, t' amaze all human eyes, 
 A glorious constellation in the skies. 
 Pallas and Venus do not take offence, 
 For she is a superior excellence. 
 And frown not, Juno ; I no more will make 
 Converse with mortals for thy quiet's sake. 
 Hadst thou thus given the golden ball, I had 
 
 [Sjyeaks to Paris. 
 Made thee companion unto Ganymede. 
 Take hands, and dance, whilst our attentive ears 
 Do guide our feet to music of the spheres. 
 
 They dance the second dance. 
 
 A Song. 
 
 Hym. Blest and best pair, make haste to bed, 
 
 The bride still owes her maidenhead. 
 Cttj). There you can only find a balm, 
 
 The fest'ring of my darts to calm. 
 Ven. And youth and beauty may delight 
 
 In all joys of a nuptial night. 
 Chorus. There when you shall be left alone, and 
 kiss. 
 You need not envy to the gods their bliss. 
 
 Jujx 'Tis time we leave these to a new delight, 
 And therefore Jove himself doth bid good-night. 
 
 [Exeunt Maskers.
 
 OVID. 231 
 
 Bas. Let us to bed, my dear ; I long to lose 
 Myself iu thy embraces. Gentle Ovid, 
 The bright Clorina and myself shall owe 
 All power we have to serve you to the utmost ; 
 And may propitious heaven incline great Caesar 
 To look with gracious eyes on your misfortunes ! 
 
 Ovid. You both vouchsafe too much of honour to 
 me 
 If you forgive the rudeness of my muse. 
 
 Pyr. I find myself extremely ill o' th' sudden, 
 And must not be so barbarous t' interrupt 
 With any sign of sickness the felicities 
 Of this bless'd company. Good-night to all ! 
 Farewell, my lord ! the happiest of mankind. 
 Clorina, too, good-night — you most unkind ! 
 
 [Exeunt Bassanes, Ovid, Clorina, Armelina. 
 
 3Iar. Captain, I do commit to your conduct 
 Madam Cypassis and her pretty daughter. 
 I must go help the groom to bed, and see 
 The bride to taste her last virginity -posset. 
 
 [Exit Marullus. 
 
 Dae. I shall be careful of my charge. Spinella, 
 I had rather have spent my time in bed Avith thee 
 Than have been at this masque. 
 
 S2)ln. So had not I with you. 
 
 iJac. I know you jest, my little rogue. 
 
 Cyp. Juno was of a demure look, and had a grave 
 behaviour. 
 
 Dae. Pallas had a smart cast with her eyes : 
 I warrant you she beat 
 Her husband, if she Avere ever married. 
 
 S2)in. Venus, indeed, was the handsom'st of them 
 all. 
 
 Dae. But you are handsomer than she, my pretty 
 one. 
 
 [Exeunt Dacus, Cypassis, Spinella. 
 
 Fhyl. 'Tis very late, and time to hasten home. 
 How is it with my noble Lord Pyrontus 1 
 
 Pyr. I am undone, my Phylocles, for ever, 
 And have too tamely yielded to this match.
 
 232 OVID. 
 
 I should have challenged my friend Bassanes, 
 If he would not have given up his interest, 
 And by his fall rais'd up myself some hope, 
 Or lost her bravely with my life together. 
 
 Phyl. My lord, for heaven's sake cast aside such 
 thoughts, 
 And to your aid call generous patience ! 
 
 Pyr. The coward's virtue ! 0, the multitude 
 Of those grand joys Bassanes is possess'd of 
 By this conjugal knot ! And 0, the myriads 
 Of miseries my poor life is to wade through 
 By her severe command ! Were I the mighty 
 Tiberius, and o'er the conquer'd world 
 Bore sovereignty, the Emjjire I should slight, 
 And give 't Bassanes for his room to-night. 
 
 \_Exeimt amho. 
 
 Act II. — Scene i. 
 
 Enter Captain Hannibal, Cacala, Caralinda, and 
 
 Floeetta. 
 
 Han. From Ostia we have had a voyage hither 
 So fraught with storms and temj)ests, that I Avonder 
 The sea-gods 
 
 Cac. The sea-monsters call them, rather. 
 
 Han. Were not all tired with using so much rage 
 On us ; and yet you, beauteous Caralinda, 
 Seemed fearless of the furies of the ocean, 
 Dreadless of thunder and lightning, whilst my man, 
 
 This rascal Cacala, did nothing but s 
 
 And spew, and pray, when there was such a noise, 
 Betwixt the mariners' voices and the elements. 
 That Neptune could not hear the timorous villain. 
 
 Cac. Sir, I did love you well — you have been 
 bountiful 
 On all occasions to me, I else should never 
 Have left my native country, i:)leasant Italy, 
 T' have undergone a voluntary exile.
 
 OVID. 233 
 
 But had I ever dreamt on such a passage, 
 Such thunders, whirlwinds, and such horrible tem- 
 pests, 
 I would have taken leave to stay in Eome. 
 
 Han. Although Floretta sometimes wept for fear, 
 She did not bawl and whine like thee. 
 
 Cac. No matter ; 
 She does not know how precious a thing life is. 
 
 Flor. Surely I do ; but well enough imagin'd 
 That such ungovern'd outcries might disturb 
 The company, yet not incline the gods 
 The sooner to deliver us from drowning. 
 
 Car. In truth, Cacala, your fear was oftentimes 
 So full of noise the mariners could not hear 
 Their own voices to attend their necessaries ; 
 But you, perhaps, are valianter at land % 
 
 Han. He's everywhere a coward, Caralinda ! 
 
 Cac. I would confute you, sir, with all my heart. 
 If you and Mistress Floretta would consent to 't. 
 Were I in bed with her, I'd prove myself 
 As valiant as the proudest captain living ! 
 
 Han. How, now, you saucy rogue"? 
 
 Flor. He talks most wickedly. 
 
 Cac. I had rather do. 
 
 Flm: You must go look a mate, then. 
 
 Car. Where do you mean to lie in Tomos, Captain ? 
 Good lodgings here, I think, are somewhat rare. 
 
 Han. As soon as we came to town I despatch'd 
 Cacala 
 T' inquire out one Madam Cypassis, a gentlewoman 
 Of my acquaintance in my very youth. She was 
 
 servant 
 Once unto the Princess Julia. 
 
 Car. You rather should say t' Ovid's fam'd Corinna. 
 
 Han. By your fair leave, I know I speak a truth ; 
 And Avere not Ovid timorous, he'd confess 
 He Juha veil'd under Corinna's name. 
 Cacala hath taken me lodgings at Cypassis', 
 Where you may hear of your humble servant, Han- 
 niljal.
 
 234 OVID. 
 
 Car. And does Floretta lie there also 1 
 
 Han. Yes, marry ; 
 
 Venus defend else ! 
 
 Car. Then you do resolve, 
 
 It seems, to make a wedding on 't 1 
 
 Han. By no means, madam ; neither pretty 
 Floretta 
 iSTor I are yet such fools to slight our liberties. 
 Whilst we like one another we'll keep together. 
 And when we grow a-weary we may part ; 
 The world hath other men and women enough, 
 And we are both of us yet ignorant 
 How soon we may affect variety. 
 
 Car. But fear ye not the gods 1 Are they well 
 pleas'd. 
 Think you, with such a life 1 
 
 Cac. My captain ne'er 
 
 Feared anything. And for Mistress Floretta, 
 What man could do to her she never dreaded ; 
 But how her courage stands towards the gods, 
 I cannot say. 
 
 Flor. You say too much, Cacala, and must learn 
 manners, 
 Or I must pray the Captain to bestow 
 A cudgel on you. 
 
 Cac. Sure his valour scorns 
 
 Such mean employment ; he disdains to touch 
 A weapon that's beneath a sword or poniard. 
 My noble captain ever was accustom' d 
 To give me leave to jest. 
 
 Han. But you must know 
 
 Your distance to Floretta. 
 
 Cac. I know it but too well, 
 
 And always am more distant than I would be. 
 
 Car. But, Captain, I'd advise you both to marry ; 
 It is a life that is more honourable. 
 
 Cac. You are deceived. Madam Caralinda ; 
 Our Roman captains think there is more honour 
 In keeping wenches than in marriage. 
 
 Han. Out upon wedlock ! I had rather hear
 
 OVID. 235 
 
 Alarms at midnight than the multitude 
 To bawl Thalassis at a nuptials ! 
 
 Car. Y' are a mad captain, Hannibal ! 
 
 Han. I acknowledge it, 
 
 And ne'er had else been banish'd into Pontus. 
 But whereabouts in this town, CaraUnda, 
 Do you intend to make abode ] 
 
 Car. At Publius Ovidius Naso's. 
 I wrote to him from Rome t' entreat that courtesy, 
 And he returned me thither word by letter 
 I should be welcome. I have sent my servants 
 Thither to prepare for me, and to beg 
 His company here, that he may be guide 
 Unto his house. 
 
 Han. Were Ovid in his youth, 
 
 He would be glad of such a purchase, lady ; 
 Y' are of a tempting beauty. He had fam'd you 
 Equal unto his so renowned Corinna, 
 Had he been then acquainted with your excellences. 
 
 Car. You shame me, Captain Hannibal. I am 
 So conscious of my own deformities, 
 That I shall, all I may, shun public \iew. 
 Besides, I know the noble poet hath 
 Subdued his passions, and is now become 
 As rigid in his behaviour as the gravest 
 Of all the ancient philosophers. 
 
 Cac. These women such discourse affect, as if 
 They were pure vestal nuns ; but they that do 
 Give credit to them are of a belief 
 That is not in my creed. 
 
 Car. You must have leave 
 
 To talk. Know likewise, Captain ! 
 Enjoy'd the generous Ovid his prime youth. 
 And flourish'd again in his own house 
 Adjoining unto our triumphant capital, 
 I should choose to live with him. I do prize him 
 As the supreme wit of the Empire, 
 Whose conversation ever was admired. 
 Besides, I dare presume on my own temper, 
 I fear not the temptations of all mankind ;
 
 236 OVID. 
 
 And such averseness have to all that sex, 
 That here, in presence of the immortal gods, 
 I vow, in that kind, never man shall touch me ! 
 
 Cac. For all your confidence in your own chastity, — 
 I speak it with a reverence to your merit, — 
 Beware of the old game, and of the consequence, 
 Kno'vvn commonly by the name of a great belly. 
 
 Car. My life, through all my actions, shall vindicate 
 ]\Iy reputation spotless ! 
 
 Han. Your beauties and unequall'd qualities are 
 Too potent charms for frail mankind to know, 
 And not be conquer'd by so many wonders. 
 
 Cac. Besides, her clothes would set one's teeth on 
 edge. 
 
 Flor. On shipboard she went in an homelier habit. 
 
 Car. The meanest clothes will serve at sea for 
 women. 
 Captains in Tyrian-dy'd habiliments. 
 And with their divers-coloured plumes should flourish. 
 At all times, in all places, to beget 
 Awe and respect from those they do converse with. 
 
 Han. Fair Caralinda, you speak oracles ! 
 The hearts of all the Getes* here must do homage 
 To your unparallel'd perfection ! 
 They will not only own you for most beautiful, 
 But the chief female gallant of the province ! 
 
 Enter Ovid. 
 
 Car. Your praises so transcend, they make me 
 blush. 
 
 Ovid. Welcome, my sweetest cousin Caralinda ! 
 May all the gods of seas and winds be prais'd 
 For your arrival in this country safely ! 
 
 Car. Thanks, generous Ovid ; I rejoice to see 
 The wonder of the Eoman Empire living ! 
 
 Ovid. Oh, spare to overvalue so your servant, 
 A serious adorer of your virtues ! 
 
 * Getes, sing. ; Getje, plu. A people on the banks of the 
 Euxine Sea, described by Ovid as a savage and warlike nation. 
 — Ovid de Ponto Tristia, 5, c. 1. 7 ; v. iii. c. 1. 12 v. 10.
 
 OVID. 237 
 
 Admire only you have found me breathing, 
 After so many years here in exilement. 
 
 Han. Madam, because we see you in that company 
 We know you have an honour for, and who will 
 Conduct you to your lodgings, we will press 
 No further on your privacies, but take 
 Our leave for this time. May both gods and men 
 Bear hatred to Tiberius until he 
 Eepeal the gentle Ovid ! When we next 
 Do meet we will converse at large. May Jove, 
 Juno, Pallas, and the whole court of deities. 
 Be evermore auspicious to you both ! 
 
 Cac. Also to me, master, and to Floretta, 
 Whate'er we do, I'd have the gods be merciful ! 
 
 [Exeunt Hannibal, Floretta, Cacala. 
 Car. I need not hope I shall be safe, but be secure 
 I shall be so, while I contmue in 
 Your house. 
 
 Ovid. You, madam, to yourself shall promise 
 All privacy you can desire ; you are 
 As secret as you were not in the world. 
 Although your native city you inhabit, 
 Your name shall not escape my lips. But why, 
 If without an offence I may demand it, 
 Affect you such concealment now, especially 
 When all your friends would be so proud to see you, 
 And in this time of public joy 1 
 
 Car. Hereafter, 
 
 At better leisure, I'll acquaint you with 
 My very soul in all particulars. 
 
 Ovid. I will await your time. But when you left 
 The world's great head, happy and flourishing Kome, 
 How was Tiberius moved by the entreaties 
 Of my dear wife, and some few real friends 
 That my repeal solicited % 
 
 Car. Your virtuous wife and many constant friends 
 Have not evaded any opportunity 
 In your behalf ; and, though they have not yet 
 Effected their desires in that concern, 
 They do not despair of prosperous success.
 
 238 OVID. 
 
 Ovid. I have two powerful enemies, I believe, 
 And such who block uj), Avith their imputations, 
 All wsLjs of mercy ; and yet they are men 
 I cannot accuse myself for ever injuring. 
 
 Car. You always were too noble to do vTongs. 
 
 Ovid. Even he that hath cruelty to heart 
 To tempt the wife of a poor banish'd man, 
 Amidst her sighs and tears for my misfortunes, 
 Makes use of all the mighty interest 
 He hath with Caesar still to fix me here ! 
 Pardon my passion, ye just gods, if I 
 Do wish one day you will requite the mischiefs 
 Of Cornificius ! * 
 
 Car. Your wife could make good mirth with his 
 affection. 
 Were not her heart so sad for your long banishment. 
 
 Ovid. Some of my griefs I have flung on him, under 
 The counterfeit name of Ibis. 
 
 Car. Those curses he richly deserves. Our sacred 
 Empress, the sweet-conditioned Julia, 
 Hath from the island Trimerus,t — where she 
 Hath liv'd confin'd about these twenty years, — 
 "Wrote to him oft in your behalf; but she, 
 Although she brought to him the world in dowry, 
 Could not prevail. 
 
 Ovid. She grac'd too much an exile ! 
 
 Car. But had much reason to solicit throughly, 
 She being belie v'd to be the fair Corinna, 
 Whom in your poems you have celebrated. 
 
 Ovid. I pray you, tliink not so; you wrong her 
 virtues. 
 Of which I only was a true adorer ! 
 
 * A poet and general of the Augustine age. His composit'ons 
 were much valued for their ease and eloquence, but nothing 
 remains of them except a few letters preserved amongst the 
 epistles of his friend Cicero. He had a sister Cornificia, who 
 is said to have been gifted with a poetical genius. 
 
 f On the coast of Camijania, where Julia, daughter of Augustus, 
 notorious for her immorality, was starved to death by order of 
 Tiberius, anno 14. The cause of Ovid's banishment has been 
 ascribed to his having come to the knowledge of the incestuous 
 intercouse between this lady and her father.
 
 OVID. 239 
 
 Car. Though you deny it ne'er so much, a many, 
 And of the nobler sort, beheve it otherwise. 
 Droop not, best of poets, l>ut courage ! 
 
 Ovid. Alas ! 
 
 My hopes sunk, -svith Augustus, to the grave, 
 And here my aged bones must find an urn ! 
 Will you not see the bridal house, although 
 In this disguise, and sure to be unknowTi ] 
 
 Car. I all those inclinations must suppress ; 
 It is the will of Heaven, and not mine own. 
 'Tis time we w^alk ! 
 
 Ovid. I'm ready to attend you, \Exeunt. 
 
 Scene ii. 
 Enter Pyrontus, solus. 
 
 Pijr. This sweet and solitary grove, adjoining 
 To our city's walls, I have made choice to vent 
 My sorrows in : — this place, that many times 
 Clorina's smiling eyes have graced more 
 Than Phoebus with his beams could ever do. 
 Happy you trees, whose roots received vigour 
 From the life-giving virtue of her looks ! 
 And you, sweet birds, that choose this shady place 
 To warble forth your various notes, were blest 
 To learn new airs from bright Clorina's voice ! 
 And all those beasts are fortunate, that here 
 Enjoy the cool shades and the crystal springs, — 
 The w^aters and the grass receiving virtue. 
 From her rich presence, towards their ease and 
 
 nourishment. 
 Even all the inhabitants of Tomos choose 
 This place to recreate their minds wdthal. 
 Pan, Faunus, SatjTS, and the Dryades 
 Have not afforded me so good success. 
 "Wherefore, alas ! thus do I vainly tax 
 The rural gods 1 Clorina is my foe. 
 Else I had been as happy as Bassanes, 
 Who is the most blest man of all the Empire,
 
 240 OVID. 
 
 And that unparallel'd beauty dotli enjoy 
 
 Whose loss I must perpetually lament, — 
 
 "Whose loss must sit so near unto my soul, 
 
 The world will want a cure to make me whole. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Cypassis. 
 
 Cy]). Thanks to these trees' auspicious shades, 
 whereby 
 I, undiscover'd, have been made partaker 
 Of Lord Pyroutus' love unto the bride ! 
 I Avill observe, with all the curious search 
 I may, what progress he intends to make, 
 And hope I shall raise motives to withdraw 
 Bassanes from the dotage on his wife. 
 And fix his heart again upon Spinella. 
 
 Enter Pyrontus and Phylocles. 
 
 Phyl. I have been searching for you long ! 
 
 Cyp. 'Tis best I do retire, where, unperceiv'd, 
 I their discourse may overhear. [Aside. 
 
 Phyl. You should not 
 
 Give such a liberty to your melancholy, 
 Nor take delight in solitary walks. 
 My Lord Pyrontus, in your early youth 
 You were instructed by the ablest masters 
 That famous Athens or triumphant Rome 
 Could glory in, in all the principles 
 Of grave jihilosophy. Reflect upon them, 
 And raise yourself thence strength to conquer these 
 Unruly passions. 
 
 Pyr. My dear Phylocles, 
 
 'Tis very easy for a man to give 
 That counsel to his friend he could not follow 
 Himself were he in his condition. 
 I want a power to perform 't. The world 
 Cannot afford me means. I must enjoy 
 Clorina, or I utterly am lost ; 
 And therefore, though Bassanes is my friend, 
 My amity cannot enjoin me silence : 
 I must pursue my suit, and will.
 
 OVID. 241 
 
 Phyl. Take heed ; 
 
 You then will run a course against all virtue — 
 Offend the sacred deities, Avhom we 
 Are bound, by strictest obligations. 
 To observe in all they have commanded us. 
 
 Pyr. But they are merciful, and will forgive. 
 
 Phyl. But 'tis inglorious to commit a crime 
 Out of a presumption of a pardon ; and 
 Your breach of friendship — all mankind will censure. 
 An act degenerating from true nobility. 
 
 Pyr. These morals, Phylocles, are cast away 
 On me, who am so overwhelm'd in love 
 I have not reason left to practise them. 
 
 Phyl. But you will have sufficient, if you would 
 Take up a resolution to withstand 
 This dangerous passion. 
 
 Pyr. 'Tis in vain to preach 
 
 These things to me. I must enjoy Clorina, 
 Or leave you, friend, for ever — I shall die ! 
 
 Phyl. How this untoward love destroys your 
 sense ! 
 
 Pyr. There is not oratory enough on earth 
 To win me from the pursuit of my love : 
 One Avay or other I must get Clorina, 
 And to invent a means to compass her 
 Shall be my only study ; and if I prove 
 So fortunate as to accomplish that, 
 I shall account myself a favourite 
 The most esteemed of by the gods ! 
 
 Phyl. Fiends^ rather ! 
 
 Pyr. Then I shall find there is a fate attends 
 On lovers, — harsh beginnings, happy ends. 
 
 [Exit Pyrontus. 
 
 Phyl. I will not give him over thus, but follow 
 him; 
 And though I have small hopes I shall prevail. 
 Yet I, in friendship, am olsliged to do 
 My best to stop him in this vicious course. 
 brave Pyrontus ! how hath impious love 
 Abus'd thy reason with this mighty dotage !
 
 242 OVID. 
 
 He that hatli been the glory of this province 
 Will make himself, this way, the shame and scandal ! 
 
 [Exit Phylocles. 
 
 Cypassis disdoseth herself. 
 
 Cyp. Is he so hotly set that none beside 
 The bride can satisfy his luxury 1 
 This shall Bassanes know. Now I will work, 
 With all the treacherous art I'm mistress of, 
 To raise a discord in their marriage. She 
 Is made of flesh and blood, and may prove false ! 
 Pyrontus is resolved to court her strongly, — 
 A gallant gentleman, handsome as any. 
 Perfect in amorous compliments, no doubt. 
 I wonder how he miss'd her if he ever 
 Made it his endeavour to obtain her favour. 
 I wish him good success. May this Clorina 
 Fall into his embraces ! Then my girl 
 Spinella, it is likely, may arise 
 Into her former favour with Bassanes. 
 He's rich and bountiful, and such are welcome 
 Unto young women ; who will lose no time, 
 And love to live in flourish of the fashion. 
 
 Enter Bassanes. 
 
 Bas. I like this marriage well, for now I lead 
 My life in favour of our best of gods ! 
 I have liv'd loosely long enough, and paid 
 My services to Venus and wild Priapus ! 
 Juno will now befriend me, sure, and Hymen 
 Eain blessings on my head and family. 
 
 Cyp. Good day, my Lord Bassanes ! What ! alone 1 
 Can you so soon deprive yourself of the 
 Fair sunshine of your bright Clorina's eyes 1 — 
 Find in your heart to be out of her company ] 
 
 Bas. I must not be a shadow to my wife, 
 Nor she to me. We must not evermore 
 Follow each other ; so our loves might prove 
 Troublesome to ourselves. But say, Cypassis,
 
 OVID, 243 
 
 What business brouglit you hither ] Is 't for health's 
 
 sake 
 That you are come to walk, and take the air 1 
 Or out of hope to meet me here, to tell me 
 Fictitious stories of Spinella's love 
 To me ? 
 
 Cij]). I had not any such intention. 
 Affection to the groves, and a desire 
 To exercise myself a while in walking. 
 Did bring me hither. But I've lost my labour. 
 And, as you came, was a-returning home. 
 
 Bas. This is a riddle. Who could hinder you from 
 walking 1 
 
 Cyp. My own curiosity. 
 I have been list'ning to the saddest sj)eech 
 That ever yet did pass a lover's lips. 
 
 Bas. Prithee, Cypassis, who had the ill fortune 
 To vent his sorrows in thy hearing ] 
 
 Cyp. A friend 
 
 Of yours, but 'tis no matter who ; you are 
 In a condition of such happiness, 
 That it would be an incivility in me 
 To cause the least sad thoughts in you. Continue 
 In mirth and jollity ; and so, farewell ! 
 
 Bas. I pray thee, stay awhile ! I must confess 
 I have a curiosity to know 
 Who this is that you call a friend of mine. 
 Who can be sad now I am grown so happy ! 
 
 Cyp. My Lord Bassanes, I must crave your pardon. 
 Secrets of love, you know, should be conceal'd. 
 
 Bas. I am no common prater. 
 
 Cyp. For old acquaintance sake, I cannot choose 
 But tell you anything you shall request. 
 
 Bas. I thank you. How doth fair Spinella ? I 
 Should have inquired sooner of her health, 
 But your discourse drew me aside from it. 
 
 Cyp. Oh ! how you flatter me ! I easily can 
 Believe you have forgotten her for ever. 
 
 Bas. You wrong ourfriendship. Happiness I wish her, 
 As much as you and she can both desire.
 
 244 OVID. 
 
 Cyp. I'll tell her so ; and so, again farewell ! 
 
 Bus. Nay, tell me, ere you go, what friend of mine 
 Is grown so amorous and so passionate 1 
 
 Cyp. Since you will have me, think ! 
 
 Bas. I cannot guess. 
 
 Cyp. It is Pyrontus. 
 
 Bas. It may be so ; yet he 
 Never reveal'd to me he was in love. 
 
 Cyp. At that I make no wonder. 
 
 Bas. Whom should he 
 
 Be so enamour'd of ? 
 
 Cyp. Clorina's eyes 
 
 Have beams enough a province to inflame. 
 
 Bas. My wife 1 
 
 Cyp. The very same, 
 
 Bas. He surely, then, will stifle 
 His passion generously, and not attempt 
 The wife of his approved friend ? 
 
 Cyp. You guess amiss ; he is resolv'd to try 
 Her to the utmost. He's a proper gentleman, 
 And, I believe, hath a prevailing language. 
 You may be civil to him, and be wary. 
 
 Bas. It is too likely. On our marriage night 
 He so abruptly did depart, he gave us 
 Not leisure enough to take our leaves, — a sign 
 He wanted patience to look on my joys. 
 
 Cyp. I thought he somewhat suddenly was gone ; 
 But love's a passion not to be commanded ! 
 
 Bas. What was 't he, in your hearing, said 1 
 
 Cyp. Alas ! 
 
 Enough ; too much. He doth deserve our pity. 
 Phylocles did surprise him, and did use 
 His best persuasions to divert him from 
 So vain and dangerous an afi"ection. 
 
 Bas. Come to particulars, my good Cypassis ; 
 Conceal not from me anything : the gods 
 Did guide thee hither t' overhear him. Why 
 Stand you in such suspense ? 
 
 Cyp). Take heed, my Lord Bassanes ! Oh, beware 
 Of jealousy ! 'Tis an accursed fiend,
 
 OVID. 245 
 
 That otlierwise your quiet will molest, 
 Involve you in a perpetuity 
 Of hideous chimeras. Fair Clorina 
 Is innocent, and of a spotless virtue ; 
 She is not accessory to his fault, 
 If to be beautiful be not a crime. 
 
 Bas. I am not jealous, neither will be ever. 
 
 Cyp. A resolution worthy your great mind, 
 And worthy the respects you ought to owe 
 And pay unto the virtues of your lady. 
 
 Bas. I know her excellent body is enrich'd 
 With so suljlime a spirit, and so pure. 
 That vice dares not approach her thoughts. Be free. 
 Therefore, and tell me all thou know'st. 
 
 Cyp. You may command me, and I will conceal 
 Nothing from you. 
 
 Bas. Good old Cypassis ! thanks. [Exeunt amlo. 
 
 Scene hi. 
 Enter Pyrontus and Clorina. 
 
 Clor. For shame, Pyrontus ! Cease to prosecute 
 A suit so much beneath your honour, and 
 So prejudicial to my reputation ! 
 
 Pyr. What a misery, 
 To be condemned to an eternal penury. 
 And be forbidden to complain ! Fair, cruel 
 Clorina, do not so insult ! Although 
 I am most wretched, it's in your power to make me 
 Happy, when you shall please to be but kind. 
 
 Clor. I am not of a savage nature, neither 
 Ever rejoic'd at anybody's grief ; 
 I wish you all content, and ever did 
 A wife superior unto me in all things. 
 Sink not Ixsneath this passion of your love ; 
 You undervalued evermore your merits 
 To think of me in that way. 
 
 Pyr. You abuse
 
 246 OVID. 
 
 The truest affection amorous heart did ever 
 Pay to his mistress, if you think I can 
 Etface your image in my soul. Tlie centre 
 Of this vast globe we breathe on is not faster 
 Fix'd than your beauties here ; here, in my bosom, 
 They sit triumphant. Etna in its torn entrails 
 Doth nourish lesser flames than burn me daily, 
 And yet you have no pity for my sufferings. 
 
 Clor. Alas ! what would you have me make myself ? 
 A beast of such an horrid name, I tremble 
 But to think of it 1 All the gods forbid ! 
 Would you have her whom you have cast away 
 Some kindness on become an whore ] My heart 
 Trembles to think upon 't, and the swift lightning 
 Of blushes flies into my cheeks. Methiuks 
 My tongue doth burn like fire within my mouth 
 Since it did mention so abhorr'd a name. 
 
 Pyr. Will you, then, never think me worth your 
 mercy ] 
 Shall the vain terrors of an empty name 
 Condemn me to a languishing life for ever ] 
 
 Clor. You gods are witnesses, that know my 
 thoughts, 
 I would not, by the wreck of chastity, 
 And proving to my marriage false, redeem 
 Myself from the most cruel death that tyrant 
 Did ever invent for his most hated enemy ! 
 
 Fyr. More merciless than worst of all those tyrants. 
 Can you refuse a courtesy to me 
 Which my assiduous services may plead for 1 
 And such an one as can be never kno"\\Ti, 
 Neither impoverish you in the least degree 1 
 Eeflect upon my misery, sweet Clorina, 
 And imitate the gods in mercy. 
 
 Clor. Eather the fiends, if I should be so wicked. 
 The Lord Pyrontus, whom I heretofore 
 Did look -upon as a most noble person, 
 Accomplish'd with the virtues, hath declared 
 Or counterfeited himself an atheist, to 
 Allure Clorina from her purity.
 
 OVID. 247 
 
 The gods see everything; natvire nor art 
 
 Can anything conceal from them. Tlionghts which 
 
 Did never take the air in words, to them 
 
 Discovered lye ; and is it not far worse 
 
 To have the gods to see our crimes than men 1 
 
 Could I prove guilty of so foul a fault, 
 
 I should impoverish myself to nothing, — 
 
 A bankrupt be in honour ; which, who wants. 
 
 Is a companion fit for such wild people, 
 
 As never heard the name of virtue. Riches 
 
 Are fortune's trifles, neither altogether 
 
 To be despis'd or doted on ; but, well us'd. 
 
 Poor virtue is most rich. Virtue itself 
 
 Was, by the ancients, held the greatest wealth. 
 
 Pyr. In your discourse you are too much a stoic : 
 Young ladies' hearts should not so utterly 
 Be void of all compassion. 
 
 Clor. I must leave you. 
 
 Pyr. Not without hope of comfort, I beseech you 1 
 Let me but taste of those sweet delicacies 
 You cloy Bassanes with, if it be possible 
 He can be satiated with such delights ! 
 
 Cloi'. I trespass on my modesty to hear you. [Exit. 
 
 Pyr. In a condition she so sad hath left me, 
 Joy is become an exile from my heart. 
 To love and not be lov'd is such a curse, 
 Jove, on his foes, cannot inflict a w'orse. [Exit. 
 
 Act III. — Scene i. 
 Enter Ovip and Caralinda. 
 
 Ovid. Trapullus is a great astrologer, 
 I' th' mathematics skilful to perfection. 
 For his profounder knowledge the Chaldseans 
 Submit all to him. 
 
 Car. Therefore I have reason 
 
 More strictly to observe th' advice he gave me,
 
 248 OVID. 
 
 And "wait for the accomplishment of the fortune 
 Which he foretold me. 
 
 Ovid. But, fair Caralinda, 
 
 I would not have you either be too scrupulous 
 Or negligent. The skill which they pretend to 
 Hath but foundation upon jjrobabilities : 
 The glorious planets may incline, but force not. 
 AVe have a liberty within ourselves : 
 Our wills are free, nor slaves unto the stars. 
 
 Car. Though I believe you, I am so superstitious 
 I shall expect the accomplishment of his prophecy. 
 Further discourse of it I shall forbear now, 
 And choose a worthier subject for our talk. 
 Tell me, dear Ovid, therefore, how the fair 
 Bride's fairer sister doth enjoy her health. 
 I left her, when I went to travel, like 
 Illustrious Phoebus rising in the spring. 
 Without a cloud about his temples, promising 
 A bright day to the world. I left her in 
 Her early youth, but with so growing a beauty, 
 That surely now 'tis able to work wonders. 
 
 Ovid. Indeed she is a miracle of perfection ; 
 Nature hath prodigally bestowed upon her 
 All her rich gifts. She is so fine a virgin. 
 That I should wrong her to describe her farther. 
 Health dares not be so rude as to forsake her, 
 Nor sickness so uncivil to approach her. 
 
 Car. You have delivered her to my amazement ; 
 But I did always look that she would prove 
 The glory of this province for her beauty. 
 
 Ovi<:l. But Armelina hath besides a soul, 
 Eeplenish'd so with goodness and all virtue, 
 That, were it lodged in any other body, 
 It would be lock'd up in a cabinet 
 Too mean for such a precious jewel ! 
 
 Car. O-sad, 
 
 She is oblig'd to you for the rich character 
 You have bestow'd upon her ! 
 
 Ovid. You mistake me; 
 
 I cannot speak her to her merit. You
 
 OVID. 
 
 249 
 
 Will think, when you shall see her, I have injur'd her; 
 Her merits do so much exceed all language. 
 
 Car. We two have from our childhood had a friend- 
 ship, 
 And she will grace me to continue it. 
 If she be such an one as you have spoke her. 
 
 Ovid. Ah, Caralinda ! I am grown too old 
 To be a flatterer. 
 
 Enter Aemelina. 
 
 Here she comes, and I 
 Appeal to your own eyes to be my witness ! 
 You grace me, Armelina, by this visit. 
 You seem a deity, and bring a comfort 
 To any place you honour with your presence. 
 
 Arm. Duty obliges me to wait upon 
 A person so renowned as Ovid is, — 
 One banished from his friends and native country, 
 And in his age confined to our poor city. 
 
 Ovid. You have a charity equal to your beauty.' 
 This lady is my cousin, born at Sulmo,* 
 The place of my nativity. You will honour me 
 To favour her with your acquaintance, and, 
 As you hereafter shall approve of her, 
 With your fair friendship too. 
 
 Arm,. The generous 0\dd 
 
 New obligations lays upon me daily. 
 
 Ovid. My kinswoman is your servant. Caralinda ! 
 This lady is the excellent Armelina 
 We were discoursing of, and I commending, — 
 For Avho does otherwise that speaks of her 
 Doth sin against the greatest truth on earth, — 
 As she came in. 
 
 Arm. Madam ! I kiss your hand, and am ambitious 
 Of your acquaintance and affection. 
 So excellent a kinswoman of Ovid's 
 Must find my best respects and truest love. 
 
 * Now Sulmona, an ancient town of the Peligni, ninety miles 
 distant from Rome, said to have been founded by Solymus, a 
 follower of iEneas.
 
 250 OVID. 
 
 Gar. Admirable Armelina ! you are of 
 A goodness so immense, that you may cast 
 Away of it on others an abundance, 
 And not impoverish yourself at all ! 
 
 Arm. I wish 
 
 Pontus had any person in it worthy 
 To be a suitor to you for your love, 
 That here you might be married, and fix. 
 We would not lose such grace as you are mistress of, 
 Now we have seen you once. Ovid, methinks. 
 Should joy to have so great a comfort near him. 
 And settled past the fear of removal. 
 
 Car. Madam, my stay may prove much longer than 
 You do imagine. But let my occasions 
 Prove how they can, you, with your courtesy, 
 Have won so on me, that without your leave 
 I'll not return. 
 
 Arm. You are too gracious, and have so engag'd me, 
 I know not what to speak or think. 
 
 Ovid. You saw, 
 
 I will believe, in Eome, one Phoebianus, 
 A gentleman of this country and this city 1 
 
 Car. I saw him oft, and know him very well, 
 For he was pleas'd to afford his friendship to me, 
 
 Ovid. AVhen thinks he of returning? He stays 
 long. 
 
 Arm. I can imagine he is so discreet 
 That he had rather live in the metropolis 
 Of all the world, than in a solitude, 
 Retir'd, in a manner, from the world, 
 Upon the confines of the Empire here. 
 And to that purpose he hath mighty reason, 
 To choose himself, among the Roman ladies, 
 A wife whose matchless beauty shall have power 
 To fix him there for ever. 
 
 Car. By your fair leave, 
 
 Dear Armelina, I with confidence 
 Dare say he shortly will be here. 
 
 Arm, Why, pray you ? 
 
 Can he escape the Roman killing beauties,
 
 OVID. 251 
 
 And slight so mucli his own full happiness 
 As to return a bachelor to Tonios, 
 And here take up with an inferior woman 
 To be his Avife 1 He hath too much discretion 
 To be found guilty of so great a weakness. 
 
 Car. You are a stranger, it seems, to his affection — 
 For he hath left his heart here. Divers times 
 He hath told me he hath such a mistress here, 
 That Eome and all the world doth want her equal — 
 That there is neither Caesar, king, nor tetrarch 
 But would elect her rather for his wife 
 Than be an Emperor of the universe, 
 And have all mankind loyal subjects to him. 
 
 Ovid. Who should that beauty be 1 
 
 Arm. This province, sure. 
 
 Hath none of so supreme an excellency 
 As he to you hath intimated. Poets 
 Report that love is blind ; and if he choose 
 A wife in Pontus, after he hath seen 
 Those glorious ladies in Tiberius' court, 
 He will too late, by his experience, find 
 That he in his own choice was also blind. 
 
 Ovid. Do you not know her name he so affects ? 
 
 Arm. He is an handsome gentleman ; and if 
 He comes not back debauched with the luxuries 
 Of that proud city, nor infected with 
 The vices of it, he is a personage 
 Of eminent virtues. Such he went from us ; 
 And I shall hope he will come back untainted. 
 And be an honour to his native country. 
 
 Ovid. But still my curiosity is unsatisfied. 
 What might her name be he doth celebrate 
 With such encomiums ? 
 
 Car. Perhaps it might offend him if I should 
 Reveal that secret. 
 
 Ovid. Do not think it ! I 
 
 Believe, if he were here, and I requir'd it, 
 He it from me would not conceal ; and I 
 Dare pass my word the I^ady Armclina 
 Will be as private in 't as you can wish.
 
 252 OVID. 
 
 Car. Madam, I easily will believe that you 
 Care not at all to hear it. 
 
 Arm. I dare not, in modesty, he so inquisitive. 
 Ladies would have their loves conceal'd. 
 
 Ovid. Sweet cousin ! 
 
 Dear Caralinda ! tell us who it is ! 
 
 Car. Sweet Armelina, I must needs obey ! 
 'Tis you that he affects. 
 
 Arm. You jest with me, and he abuses me 
 To make me the subject of his mirth. 
 
 Car. I'm sure 
 
 You are mistaken much ; he hath express'd 
 Too great a love for you to be in jest. 
 
 Arm. There may be other women of my name, 
 For aught I know, in Tomos or in Pontus. 
 
 Car. If you Clorina's sister are, 'tis you. 
 
 Arr)i. You make me blush. A better choice I wish 
 him. 
 
 Car. Were all the beautiful ladies in the world 
 Together, and among them he might select 
 Freely which he should please, I know the vehemency 
 Of his passion such, he would take you. 
 And you are of an excellency so unparallel'd, 
 Tliat he would wrong his judgment if he should 
 Err into any other choice. 
 
 Arm. You compliment too much ; you flatter me. 
 
 Ovid. You do an injury to your mighty merits ; 
 Deserve the praise of all the world. 
 
 Arm. Pray let us 
 
 Discourse of something else. 
 
 Ovid. Since you will have it so, 
 Let us withdraw, and taste a glass 
 Of Cretan wine. 
 
 Car. Dedicate one health 
 
 To Phcebianus, and his speedy return ! [Exeu7if omnes.
 
 OYiD. 253 
 
 Scene ii. 
 Enter Dacus, Cypassis, and Spinella. 
 
 Dae. Now we are friends again ! 
 
 Cyp. All very good friends. 
 
 Dae. Spinella, too, will smile upon mel 
 
 Sphi. Laugh at you also, when you deserve it. 
 
 Dae. My wonderful old mother ! Dear Cypassis, 
 You are grown merrier of late, and it 
 Becomes you well — makes you gi'ow fat, and hold 
 The relics of your beauty up together. 
 If there be any woman in the world 
 That doth remember the building of the Capitol, 
 I dare pronounce 'tis you. I wish I had 
 But as much money as you have spent in almanacs, 
 Eeckoning but one for a year, since you could 
 Make use of them, and I should be as rich as 
 A governor of a province, and have gold 
 Enough to make daily high entertainments^ 
 Of the best sweetmeats and rich Grecian wines 
 For you and my Spinella, and maintain her 
 In clothes beseeming one of Caesar's family. 
 
 Cyp. Well, well. Captain Dacus ; for all you 
 Make a jest at my age, you would 
 Be very glad to live so long yourself. 
 
 Spin. I think there is small reason to imagine 
 He will arrive to such an antiquity ; 
 His debaucheries will shorten his days. Besides, 
 He is so quarrelsome, that 'tis a wonder 
 That he hath liv'd till now. 
 
 Dae. Pretty Spinella, you steer another course ; 
 Are tame enough, as gentle as a cade,* _ 
 And he that gives you money cannot injure you. 
 
 Enter Hannibal, Cacala, and Floretta. 
 
 Spin. You prate, you prate ! 
 Uan. Is the meat ready yet 1 
 * Cade-lamb, a house-lamb ; hence applied to a pet child.
 
 254 OVID. 
 
 Cac. Whether it be or no, my stomach's ready for it. 
 
 Cyp. It is ; but we must stay for Lord Bassanes. 
 
 Han. Will he be here, Cypassis 1 
 
 Cyp. Yes ; and his friend JNIarullus. 
 
 Han. The more the merrier, my reverent mother ! 
 
 Cac. But the fewer the better cheer, I say. 
 
 Dae. Jove save you, Captain Hannibal ! and Venus, 
 Delicate Floretta, smile upon you always ! 
 
 Han. Mars, Captain Dacus, be thy friend, and victory 
 Sit on thy sword's point when thou go'st to battle. 
 
 Co/:,. If victory be of any weight, he had better 
 Carry him behind him on horseback through the field. 
 
 Flor. You look, Spinella, very well to-day — are 
 neatly attir'd. 
 You meet with wealthy servants, else you could 
 Not go so richly clad. 
 
 Spin. You wear as good clothes as I ; which makes 
 me conclude that 
 Captain Hannibal is of a wealthy fortune. 
 
 Flor. His sword hath been his money. 'Tis it that hath 
 Purchas'd him an estate sufficient 
 To live in nobler splendour than he doth ; 
 But he's content without the noise of clients. 
 And a retinue of many servants : Cacala 
 Serves him for man, and me for maid. 
 
 Dae. I wish Bassanes would appear ! 'Tis pity 
 Good meat, out of a compliment, should be spoil'd. 
 
 Spin. He is a person of his word. 
 
 Cyp. And will 
 
 Be suddenly here, I dare assure it. 
 
 Cac. But how if he comes not this hour yet 1 
 
 Cyp. We must stay for him. 
 
 Cac. I would, then, I were a lord, and the better of 
 the two ; that we might go to our meat presently, and 
 he come at his own leisure, and sit down accordingly. 
 
 Enter Bassanes and Marullus. 
 
 Dae. Long look'd for comes at last ! 
 Cyp. My Lord Bassanes, Avelcome ! Friend Marullus, 
 Y' are welcome too !
 
 o\lD. 255 
 
 Bas. You see I trouble you, Cypassis. "\Miy 
 Seems my Spinella discontent ? 
 
 Spin. Because 
 
 She is not yours. You have forsaken me — 
 I have not seen you many a day. 
 
 Bas. I shall not hereafter be such a stranger to you. 
 
 Mar. These wenches strange temptations are ; yet 
 sure, 
 Clorina's beauties and the sacred knot 
 Of Hymen will continue him in virtue. 
 
 Bas. Your daughter looks exceeding well, Cypassis ! 
 She's mistress of a beauty so supreme. 
 It is above the rage of time or sickness. 
 
 Cyi?. Venus be prais'd, she needs no art ! and never 
 Eead Ovid's poem of the skill of painting. 
 She knows not what belongs unto a fucus* — 
 Her face doth ever wear its native colours. 
 
 Spin. Mother ! the very thought of the ingredients 
 Of paint would powerfully deter me from it. 
 I should be sick to daub my face with ointments 
 Made of the spawm of snakes, spittle of Jews, 
 And mire of infants ! 
 
 Flor. Many gentlewomen 
 
 Of good repute, and excellent features also, 
 ' Have not so nice a stomach. 
 
 Cyp. I credit it ; 
 
 Aiid have known many, who use art themselves, 
 Rail at it with so tine an impudency, 
 As if they did intend to win belief 
 To paint they such aversion had, as they 
 Scorn'd with it to adulterate their faces. 
 
 Mar. You women no dissemblers are ! He that 
 Can live without you is an happy man. 
 
 Cac. In my opinion, you, Floretta, had 
 Better become my wife, than thus continue 
 A concubine to Captain Hannibal ! 
 
 * Paint for the complexion, formerly much used by ladies, com- 
 posed frequently of injurious mineral poisons : — 
 " Fuciises for ladies !" 
 
 —Strode's Floating Island.
 
 256 OVID. 
 
 Flor. I shall inform liim of your sauciness 
 If you desist not from your suit. Know, Cacala, 
 I scorn to be a wife to thee ! 
 
 Cac. No more. 
 
 You have more cause to scorn to be a whore. [Aside. 
 
 Flor. What mutter you 1 
 
 Cac. No matter of importance. I conceit 
 Your conversations with the Captain hath 
 Inspire! you Avith valour ! 
 
 Flor. Prithee, wherefore 1 
 
 Cac. Because you lead such an incontinent life, 
 I think you do not fear the gods ! 
 
 Flor. Ha' done, 
 
 Or I will make you fear my Hannibal's anger ! 
 
 Cijp. Our meat stays on us. 
 
 Bas. Mother, lead the way ! 
 
 Give me your hand, Spinella ! 
 
 Spin. And my heart ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Dae. I fear Bassanes will reneAY Hs love. 
 Could I win her affection, I would marry her, 
 And take her to Rome out of his reach. She is 
 Cypassis' only child, and they are rich. 
 She may turn honest after she's a wife ; 
 HoAvever, money makes an happy life. [Exit. 
 
 Scene hi. 
 
 Enter Armelina, sola. 
 
 Arm. Ovid's fair cousin, Caralinda, hath 
 Inspir'd a spirit of joy into me. Those 
 SAveet Avords she told me of my Phoebianus 
 Sunk pleasantly into my heart, and thence 
 Disperse a comfort unto all my senses. 
 Before he travell'd, he would often Avhisper 
 Kind accents in my ears of his afllection ; 
 But, though I Avish'd him Avell, I durst not give 
 Too easy credit to his amorous tongue.
 
 OVID. 257 
 
 Yet from my childhood I have had a kindness 
 
 For him, as he profess'd he had for me. 
 
 His constancy my only comfort is, 
 
 And I will pay with my affection his. [Exit. 
 
 Scene iv. 
 Enter Bassanes and Dacus. 
 
 Bas. You should not be so angry ; he intended 
 You no affront. He had been drinkino; ere 
 We came ; you saw he had as much as he 
 Could bear. Come, therefore, in agam ! shake hands, 
 And still continue friends. 
 
 Dae. It must not be. 
 
 Refuse my mistress' health 1 It is a crime 
 Wliich nothing but his death shall expiate. 
 His body goes to atoms for 't, and's soul 
 Whither it pleaseth surly Charon to waft it. 
 Have I been ever his continual friend — 
 Waited on all his worst extravagances 
 With my unwearied valour and my sword, 
 And am I slighted thus ] I will rouse up 
 The dreadful furies from infernal shades, 
 To stigmatize him full of my revenge, — 
 The lasting stars of his ingratitude. 
 
 Enter Marullus, Cypassis, Hannibal, Cacala, 
 Floretta, and Spinella. 
 
 Ci/p. I'll have no quarrelling in my house ! You 
 shall be friends ! 
 He shall drink Spinella's health, and have no more. 
 
 Cac. And you can hinder quarrels in a bawdy-house, 
 you have more i:)ower than a constable. Eut if you 
 force him to drink her health, let him have something 
 more ; — have her too, though it be but to-night. 
 
 Sj)ln. Leave pimping, Cacala ; I have no need 
 Of your assistance in this kind. Bassalies, 
 Let me entreat that you would reconcile them ! 
 
 R
 
 258 OVID. 
 
 Bas. Marullus, I conjure you by our friendsliip ! 
 And, Ccaptain Dacus, he shall have the bowl ! 
 
 [Pointing to Marullus. 
 
 Mar. You shall command me. 
 
 Spin. If you expect my favour, you must leave 
 These humours. Are you friends 1 
 
 Dae. I must obey you. 
 
 Flor. Shake hands, and let us in again ! 
 
 Cyp. I need not of Clorina's health inquire ; 
 She cannot but be Avell whom you affect. 
 
 Bas. Cypassis, this is a pretty compliment. 
 She's free from sickness, and I will be careful 
 To keep her clear from any vicious act. 
 
 Cyp. Doubtless she's virtuous : trouble not your 
 head 
 "With jealousy. 
 
 Bas. I will be wise, old mother ! 
 
 Han. Come, Captain ! 
 We men of war are for the field, and there 
 Will be victorious. Let the woman here ! \Exeunt. 
 
 Scene v. 
 
 Enter Clorina above, as in her chamber. 
 
 Cloi: I am lock'd in, and at it am amaz'd, 
 But will conceal it from my servants while 
 I any excuse can find. It needs must be 
 My husband, for he last was with me here. 
 I did not hear liim do 't, but in all likelihood 
 'Twas he, Avhen's mind did run on something else. 
 I am so innocent, I should fear nothing ; 
 And yet so timorous that I am in dread. 
 
 Enter Pyrontus and Phylocles below. 
 
 Pyrontus and his friend are come into 
 
 The garden. Gracious Heaven ! divert him from 
 
 The prosecution of his suit to me ! 
 
 ]\Iy troublesome thoughts have brought a drowsiness
 
 OVID. 259 
 
 Upon me : sleep shall entertain my time 
 
 Until Bassanes comes and opes the door. 
 
 I will not force the lock, because I am 
 
 A stranger to the reason I'm made prisoner. 
 
 Perhaps my husband knows some mortal danger 
 
 Design'd against me, and hath thus secur'd me 
 
 Till his return. [JFithdraws. 
 
 Pyr, My Phylocles, by all 
 
 The circumstances of our mighty friendship, 
 I pray thee vex me with no more dissuasions ! 
 I cannot look upon my passion to 
 The fair Clorina as a crime. If 'tis 
 Offence on her to be enamour'd, sure 
 All mankind that beholds her must be gxiilty. 
 
 Phyl. You are so obstinate, my heart foretells me 
 You will draw mischiefs on your head ! For Heaven's 
 
 sake. 
 Consider on your friendship to Bassanes ! 
 Reflect upon the contumely you 
 Will bring upon you from the mouths of all 
 For your unbridled appetite to the wife 
 Of your approved friend, and for the breach 
 Of sacred amity by such a crime ! 
 
 Pip\ Your words you scatter in the wind to give 
 Counsel to me ; my friendship must submit 
 To my more powerful love ! 
 
 Phijl. Noble Pyrontus, 
 
 'Tis not too late yet to consult Avith reason ! 
 Pray, give me leave to wait upon you home, 
 Rouse your depressed \drtue up, and let 
 Time, your own courage, and the gods' assistance 
 Clear your l)rave mind from all these vicious flames ! 
 
 Pr/r. I will not leave the hoiise till I have seen 
 And spoken with Clorina ! 
 
 Phyl. You have heard 
 
 She is retir'd into her cham])er, there 
 Hath locked herself up ; and you may believe 
 'Tis done to shun your courtship. Will you go 1 
 
 Pyr. I will not stir from hence till I have bless'd 
 My eyes with the most glorious beams of hers !
 
 260 OVID. 
 
 Phjl. I then must take my leave. If I can do 
 No good with my entreaties to my friend, 
 The world shall not inflict their curses on me, 
 As if that I conniv'd at his impieties ! 
 I pray you come away ! 
 
 Pyr. All-i:>owerful love 
 
 Hath charmed me from obeying your commands ! 
 
 Phyl. Farewell, then ! but be wise, and follow me ! 
 
 \Eo:it Phylocles. 
 
 Pyr. So let him go ! I, undisturb'd, may now 
 Enjoy my thoughts, and follow my own genius ! 
 She is not sick, and yet she keeps her chamber. 
 And locks herself in, to my greater prejudice. 
 That is the window to 't. Oh for the power 
 Of Jove, t' fall on her in a golden shower ! 
 Mercury ! thanks ! The gardener hath left 
 A ladder here. I'll rear it up, and venture 
 Thereby to get a sight of her, and, if 
 I elsewhere must not, there declare my grief ! 
 
 [Piears and climbs up the ladder. 
 The "window open ! — everything foretells 
 Happy success ! She lies upon her bed — 
 Looks like Diana, toiled with rural sports ! 
 Fortune hath thus far favoured me, and I 
 Will by her foretop hold, and venture in. 
 Degenerate minds are known by fear, and fate 
 Makes the audacious persons fortunate ! 
 She sleeps ! Morpheus his heavy hand hath laid 
 On the fair lids of her bright eyes ! I'll kiss 
 Them open, till those suns appear, 
 And shall disperse those clouds ! 
 
 Cl<yr. My Lord Bassanes, 
 
 You to Clorina are most welcome ever ! 
 Alas, I am deceiv'd ! What spectre 's this 
 That haunts me in Pyrontus' shape 1 
 
 Pyr. It is 
 
 No airy apparition, but the wretched 
 Pyrontus' self, who hath presum'd to steal 
 Upon your privacies ! 
 
 Clor. For Heaven's sake, go, and never see me more !
 
 OVID. 261 
 
 Yourself you too much trouble, and expose 
 Me, whether I will or no, to so much ignominy 
 By this intrusion, that, should it l)e known, 
 My reputation would be overthrown ! 
 For Heaven's sake, hence ! immediately retire, 
 Without a word ! 
 
 Pyr. Have you no pity yet 1 
 
 Clor. Have you no goodness. 
 
 No care, and no respect for a poor woman — 
 A married one — and your friend's wife 1 You gods 
 Deliver me in safety from this monster ! 
 Men have exil'd all piety from their hearts ; 
 I must not hope for any succour from them ! 
 Fie, fie, Pyrontus ! if you have not made 
 A league with hell and mischief, vanish straight, 
 And purge your foul soul by sincere repentance ! 
 
 Pijr. Are you of so supreme a beauty that 
 It were profaneness to compare you to 
 The fairest of womankind 1 I think I may 
 Say Venus' self doth want of your perfections ! 
 And can you harbour so severe a mind 
 "Within so rich a body % Give a period 
 To your long cruelty, and mercy show ! 
 
 Clor. You blast me with your words, study my ruin ! 
 
 Pijr. Dearest Clorina, have a milder thought 
 Of my immense affection ! In a body. 
 By nature's liberal hand fram'd to wonder. 
 Lodge not a soul for ever void of pity ! 
 Slight not my knees, thus bow'd to move a tenderness 
 In your so long inexorable heart ! 
 Neither despise my tears, which thus I pour 
 A sacrifice to your disdain. No longer 
 Attire your heart in robes of savageness — 
 Armour impenetrably cold. Oh, molhfy it 
 "With the remembrance of the assiduous service 
 That I have paid you upon all occasions ! 
 
 Enter Bassanes and Marullus below. 
 
 Bas. Marullus, I have pass'd my Avord to make 
 This afternoon a visit to Spinella.
 
 262 OVID. 
 
 il/ar. You will not so discourteous be, I know. 
 Your friend Pyrontus, as I heard within, 
 Is come to see you, and is in the garden. 
 It seems he has retir'd into some of 
 The solitary Avalks, being out of sight. 
 
 Bas. Faithful Marullus, I will not conceal 
 A thought from you that doth disturb my breast. 
 He's to our friendship folse — loves my Clorina ! 
 And, if he hath not yet, intends to tempt her 
 By his lewd courtship to incontinent life. 
 Because to-day I meant to go unto 
 Cypassis' house, I've lock'd her in her chamber. 
 To prevent him of his wild aims. 
 
 Mar. I think 
 
 I hear his voice in the next alley to us. 
 
 Bas. My Avife is with him ; her tongue I'm well 
 acquainted with. 
 
 3Iar. It seems they are together. 
 
 Bas. Here stands a ladder at her chamber 
 window ! 
 How came it hither'? Hark! monstrous villany ! 
 He by it is got into her chamber ! 
 I am betrayed, Marullus ! — basely injured ! 
 Forsake me not, my friend, in my adversity ! 
 Remove the ladder safely, without noise. 
 Watch here, Marullus, that he slides not down. 
 And so escapes, and this base treachery 
 By both of them be impudently denied ! 
 So — so 'tis done without discovery : 
 Lay it down there, or anywhere. I now 
 Will go and make a third in her lewd lodging ! 
 
 3far. But, my best friend ! noble Bassanes ! let 
 not 
 A rash impatience move you to say 
 Or to act anything unworthy you ! 
 
 Bas. You need not fear me ! [Exit. 
 
 Mar. This is an accident so strange, I cannot 
 Consider it without astonishment. 
 If these the fruits of marriage be, high Heaven 
 Be prais'd that I have liv'd a bachelor !
 
 OVID. 263 
 
 Boast not henceforth, you women, of your wealths 
 Or beauties ; or if you make no better proof, 
 You bring an hell in dowry to your husbands. 
 
 Bassanes unlocks the door above, and enters there. 
 
 Clor. My husband's come ! Oh, you have ruin'd 
 me ! — 
 Work'd such a mischief that the gods will blush at it. 
 
 Bas. Thou beast ! unworthy of the name of man — 
 Much more unworthy of the name of friend ! 
 Thy crime so great is, that I need not lose 
 A minute in hearing lies for thy excuse ! [Kills him. 
 Die ! and go rinse in vain thy so polluted 
 Soul in the flaming streams of Phlegethon ! 
 
 Pyr. Let my last words, for they are perfect truth, 
 Find credit with you. Your Clorina's chaste ! 
 I here surprised her when she was asleep ! 
 
 Bas. He's sunk to hell ! Now, my lewd huswife, 
 come ! 
 I'll find another room for your disports ! 
 Thy unclean body shall no more infect 
 My nuptial bed I 
 
 Clor. Protect, gracious gods, my innocence ! 
 
 Bas. AValk in, Marullus ! I have sulfer'd wrong. 
 And this adultress justice shall ere long ! 
 
 [Exeunt omnes. 
 
 Act IV. — Scene i. 
 Enter Dacus and Spinella. 
 
 Dae. I tell thee, sweet Spinella, I adore thee ! — 
 Have for thee a more generous affection 
 Than the greatest lord in all this province hath. 
 
 Spin. You mean Bassanes ? But, my doughty 
 Captain, 
 He doth express his love in golden terms. 
 Which I more value than a soldier's oaths.
 
 264 OVID. 
 
 Dae. He loves you for himself, and not for you ! 
 Mine is a virtuous flame. 
 
 Spin. Your dotage is 
 
 Forgetful grown of what is past ! 
 
 Dae. I fain 
 
 Would marry you ! 
 
 Spin. Dacus, I am too young ! 
 
 Dae. Why jests my pretty wanton so 1 
 
 Spin. Old women that love melancholy lives 
 Are the first creatures to make slavish wives ! 
 
 Dae. Have you so small esteem for holy marriage, 
 And can you think it such a bondage 1 
 
 Spin. Yes. 
 
 Are not such yoked together, and oftentimes. 
 Draw they not contrary ways, like dogs in couples 1 
 The tugging at an oar in any galley 
 Is as much liberty as your matrimony ! 
 
 Dae. Fie, pretty atheist ! Such profaneness quit, 
 And take a husband — take thy Captain Dacus ! 
 A man whose sword shall reap the Partliian fields. 
 And bring thee in, by frequent victories, 
 A large revenue, equal to thy wishes. 
 
 Spin. My glorious-talking Captain, I shall not 
 Be won with empty words ! 
 
 Dae. Have you no care 
 
 Of future bliss or bare 1 
 
 Spin. Plato and Virgil he hath read, — I smell liim, — 
 And courts me with their trim philosophy. 
 
 Dae. As you resolve to live, you do not mean 
 To serve the godsl 
 
 Spin. There you come something near me ! 
 But Venus is a goddess, and I shall 
 Serve her ! But, Dacus, to be plain with you, 
 I love a gaudy chariot and fine horses, 
 Servants of all sorts in rich liveries, 
 Delicious meats and wines, costly apparel. 
 And jewels of the highest value ! I must 
 Outglitter all the females of the province, 
 Or I shall want my will ! 
 
 Dae. And all this bravery
 
 OVID. 265 
 
 Bassanes' wealth shall furnish you withal, 
 You hope, as I suppose ] But, dear Spinella, 
 Think of his marriage ! He hath now a wife 
 Of great descent, who brought a fortune to him 
 So vast, I want arithmetic to name it ! 
 And she may look to be maintain'd at th' height 
 Of all his means, and then your hopes will prove 
 Fleeting as shadows — vanish in the air ! 
 
 Spin. Twit me not with his wedlock, for our crime 
 Will now be greater, and he shall be brought 
 To buy his pleasure at a higher value. 
 
 Enter Hannibal, Cacala, and Floretta,— f/te Roman 
 Captain, his Mistress, and his Servant. 
 
 Dae. How fares it with my mighty man of war ? 
 Let us shake our victorious hands in peace, 
 And pray to Mars to set the world in uproar ! 
 
 Han. That timorous Princes may grow bountiful. 
 Court us to take employment on us, while 
 Their luxuries they may securely follow ! 
 
 Dae. Brave Captain Hannibal, such iron times 
 Would be a golden age to us ! Shall we 
 Together walk, and drink an health or two 
 To all the sons of battle 1 
 
 Han. I am for you. 
 
 Spin. Then I'll retire, and keep my mother company. 
 [Exeunt Hannibal, Dacus, and Spinella. 
 
 Cac. Gentle Floretta, stay ! Let me not lose 
 This opportunity to woo thy love ! 
 
 Flor. Where learnt your folly those fine words ? 
 
 Cac. Your eyes have taught me to express my heart ; 
 They have infus'd a spirit of speech into me. 
 
 Flor. You have been, certainly, with some pedagogue, 
 And hired him to pen this courtship for you. 
 
 Cac. I love thee better than I love my captain. 
 
 Flor. And I your captain much above you aftect. 
 
 Cac. What delicate eyes you have ! I'll kiss them 
 out, 
 And wear them in my ears. 
 
 Elm: You shall be hanged first !
 
 266 OVID. 
 
 I'd rather scratch thy heart out with my nails, 
 And stuff a cushion with 't. 
 
 Cac. To sit and fart upon 't, and keep it warm ? 
 Thou art a precious rogue, and I had rather 
 Have thee to be my wife than any damsel 
 That lives in the Suburra. Give me a wench 
 In all the gamesome frailty of her youth — 
 Especially would she turn honest afterwards ! 
 
 Flor. Thou talk'st at such a random, Cacala, 
 That th' art a pastime to me. But why rather 
 Wouldst thou elect a beauty broken up 
 Than one that's sound ? 
 
 Cac. To tell you the plain truth, 
 An honest woman is a bugbear to me ; 
 I never took delight in their acquaintance. 
 
 Flor. Eun after your master; tell him I would 
 speak with him ! 
 
 Cac. I'll pimp no more, but will henceforth grow 
 honest. 
 
 Flor. I doubt me, Cacala, thou hast of late 
 Been troubled with some terrible dreams. Hast seen 
 Pluto and his dark region in thy sleep ? 
 What else should make thee talk of virtue 1 
 
 Cac. The goodwill, Floretta, that I bear to you 
 Engages me to this discourse. I pray thee 
 Take me unto thy husband, and we then 
 Will run away together, leave Captain Hannibal 
 To his new fortune, and resolve, both of us, 
 To lead our lives honestly for the future. 
 
 Flor. Out, thou villain ! Turn traitor to a master 
 So liberal to thee as my captain is ] 
 But that I know he would frown thee to death, 
 I would acquaint him Avith this parley. Amend, 
 Or neither he nor I will be thy friend ! [Exit Floretta. 
 
 Cac. I know not what to make of this wench, and 
 yet I would fain 
 Make her my wife ; but I think I am a fool for my 
 
 labour. 
 She'll hold her peace, I hope, — that's all my care, — 
 And then to get her I will not despair. [Exit.
 
 OVID. 267 
 
 Scene ii. 
 
 Enter Bassanes, Marullus, and Clorina, with 
 Servants. 
 
 Bas. So, place her in that chair, and to the sides 
 Tie fast her arms. Keep her hands open thus ! 
 
 [Here the Servants tie her fast, and fasten Pyrontus' 
 
 heart in her hands. 
 Thus — that she may not close them or remove them ; 
 And put her paramour's heart into them — so. 
 Now, foul adultress ! thou niay'st contemplate 
 Of the affection it did bear thee once — 
 Reflect upon the mountain of thy sins, 
 Which hath overwhelmed the false Pyrontus ! Look ! 
 Thou most libidinous woman, what a ruin 
 Thy lust hath brought upon him and thyself ! 
 
 Clor. I have at large, calling the gods to witness 
 That what I told swerv'd not a jot from truth, 
 Related to you all the particulars 
 Of his unruly love, — that he surprised me — 
 Came in at my windoAv whilst I was asleep ; 
 With what an horror I was stricken at it 
 When I perceiv'd 'twas he ; how I rail'd at him, 
 Call'd him by the worst names that I could think 
 
 on. 
 Bade him begone for ever from my sight ; 
 That I look'd on him as a basilisk, 
 The ruin of his honour and mine OAvn ; 
 That I would tell you of him, my Bassanes — 
 Inform you what a devil's company 
 You kept i' th' likeness of a friend ! Just gods ! 
 Protect my innocency, and by some means 
 Divine inspire these truths into his heart ! 
 
 Bas. That wife who dares pollute the nuptial bed 
 Is prodigal enough of vows and tears. 
 To win belief from cnidulous persons she 
 Hath done no Avrong, when she hath done all the 
 wrong.
 
 268 OVID. 
 
 Clm: Thrice liappy are those souls that from the 
 cares 
 And shxnders of this wicked age are free, 
 Walk up and down Elysium in their thin 
 And airy substances, and have them so 
 Transparent that their thoughts may all be seen ! 
 Would mine were such ! O that the deities 
 Would lend their eyes a while to you, that you 
 Might search, Bassanes, every cranny of 
 My heart ! I do not know a thought I have 
 I would conceal from you. 
 
 Bas. Thou hast a soul 
 
 So ulcerous, Clorina, that the prayers 
 And vows of all the world can never cleanse it. 
 
 Clor. Oh, the hard heart of unbelieving man ! 
 Happy you virgins that do stop your ears 
 Against the charms of their bewitching tongues, 
 And evermore continue in your chastity! 
 I would to heaven I never had beheld 
 Hymen to light his pine ! Have I bestow'd 
 Myself on you to find such miseries 
 Under your roof 1 I wish my parents had, 
 As soon as I was born, expos'd me to 
 The open fields, unto the cruelty 
 Of the most savage beasts ; or, in a small 
 Unguided boat, left me unto the fury 
 Of an enraged sea. Would any mischief 
 Had fallen upon me but this fatal marriage ! 
 
 Bas. Hearken, Marullus ! Are you not amaz'd 
 To hear her speak against our nuptials thus 1 
 It is apparent that she doth repent her 
 Of taking me, and wish'd she had Pyrontus. 
 
 Mar. I pray you, hear her out. 
 
 Clor. How you mistake 
 
 My meaning, my beloved and cruel husband ! 
 I would it had been pleasing to the gods 
 I never had been a wife to any! 
 How fortunate a choice might you elsewhere 
 Have found, these dire mischances miss'd, and I 
 With my ill fate have no man else infected.
 
 OVID. 269 
 
 Mar. My heart is big with sorrow at her words, 
 And vents itself in this sad dew. 
 
 Bas. What are these tears for you do dry away ? 
 
 Mar. I cannot choose but melt. 
 
 Bas. You are too tender. 
 Come ! we will leave her to contemplate here 
 The horrid wickednesses she hath acted. 
 If that all sense of honour hath not left thee, 
 Clorina, die. It will be endless shame 
 For thee to live after thou thus hast brought 
 Perpetual ignominy on my poor family. 
 
 Mar. I pity her, Bassanes — much commiserate 
 Her so disastrous fate. She may be innocent ! 
 I pray you think her so ! I hope she is. 
 
 Bas. Her reputation's gone, for ever lost : 
 A sea of tears cannot wash off her guilt. 
 'Tis so infectious, I am tainted with it. 
 False woman, die ! Lost honour never more, 
 By any means, admits of any cure. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene iir. 
 
 Enter Ovid, solus. 
 
 Sure I was born when all the glorious stars 
 Were met in counsel to contrive a mischief. 
 Under pretence of my loose youthful studies 
 For the composing of my art of love. 
 In my declining years, when I expected 
 Ease and a quiet life, I was exil'd 
 From Rome, and here confined, to end my days 
 Among a j^eople rude and almost barbarous. 
 Except a few of th' gentry and nobility — 
 In a cold country, where fierce Jether pays, 
 Through divers channels, a continual tribute 
 Of his vast streams into the Euxine sea. 
 And many have imagin'd Julia, 
 Daughter of great Augustus, was too gracious 
 And liberal of her amorous favours to me. 
 Which cans' d him to inflict this punishment.
 
 270 OVID. 
 
 But, ere that Emperor left the world, he was 
 
 Informed, for that particular, of my innocency, 
 
 And was acquainted that, if I were faulty, 
 
 It was an error in me, not a crime ; 
 
 For, if I e'er enjoy'd her, it was through 
 
 Her craft, I taking her to be another. 
 
 But he was too severe : that excellent princess 
 
 He showed as little mercy to as me. 
 
 Now about twenty years, in the small island 
 
 Of Trimerus, near the Apulian shores, 
 
 Confin'd by him, sh' hath led a tedious life. 
 
 I must confess she had a generous kindness 
 
 For me, and took delight to read my poems ; 
 
 But, by her letters and authentic witness, 
 
 Clear'd me sufficiently from that rej^roach, 
 
 And won thereby so much upon her father, 
 
 That I had been repeal'd if he had liv'd. 
 
 Since his decease, by divers messengers, 
 
 Persons of noble rank and quality. 
 
 And by her eloquent epistles, she hath 
 
 For my return to Rome importun'd much 
 
 The great Tiberius, her too cruel husband ; 
 
 But he that to a wife, Avho brought him all 
 
 The universe in portion, shows no mercy, 
 
 Will not redress my wrongs. Here I must mourn 
 
 Out all my life, and find my funeral urn. [Exit. 
 
 Scene rv. 
 Enter Hannibal and Cacala. 
 
 Han. This Captain Dacus is a jovial blade; 
 Doubtless a very valiant gentleman. 
 And of an heart as liberal as the air. 
 Cacala ! how lik'st thou him ] 
 
 Cac. But so, so; yet 
 I was well pleas'd to see him pay the reckoning. 
 You are far from home, and Mistress Floretta is 
 As chargeable as a stable of running horses.
 
 OVID. 271 
 
 Han. It is grown something late, and time to think 
 Of our return unto our lodgings. Look ! 
 What's that ? 
 
 [Espies a mein hanging on a gibbet. 
 
 Cac. Sir, I see nothing. 
 
 Han. Cast thy eyes 
 
 That way. How now 1 what is 't hangs there 1 
 
 Cac. Alas ! 'tis a poor fellow that was executed 
 Two or three days ago. 
 
 Han. He had ill fortune. 
 
 Had he not better have follow'd Mars, and fall'n 
 In glorious battle, and his soul expir'd 
 Through many wounds, than ignominiously 
 Thus sneak to death in noose of paltry halter 1 
 
 Cac. My Captain Hannibal talks evermore 
 Of mighty battles, or his little whore. 
 
 Han. What mutter you, sirrah 1 
 
 Cac. 1, by your valour's leave, was saying, Captain, 
 Yon man hangs in a pitiful cold corner ; 
 The north wind shakes his legs as he were dancing. 
 Of wine and women, and of all good meats, 
 He hath for ever took his leave. 
 
 Han. I'm sorry for 's hard fate. Some lying people 
 Eeport some of the dead have walk'd. If thou 
 Canst such a piece of fine activity show. 
 Come sup with me to-night ; thou shalt be welcome. 
 
 [S2}eaks to the hanged man. 
 
 Cac. He bows his head. 
 
 Han. Hang his head ! 
 
 Cac. He need not put himself to such unnecessary 
 trouble ; 
 He that small favour hath received already 
 From some of 's smaller friends. 
 
 Han. If th'art a good dead fellow, come, I say ! 
 And sup with me to-night. 
 
 Spec. I'll come ! 
 
 Cac. I think I heard him answer he would come. 
 
 Han. Thou art so timorous, the echo of 
 My voice deludes thee. 
 Follow me, thou fearful puppy !
 
 272 OVID. 
 
 Cac. A dog 
 
 His captainship makes of me. Sir, I shall 
 Even tread upon your heels : I dare not stay 
 Behind an inch. 
 
 Han. Come, then, for I fear nothing. 
 
 Cac. By your leave, 
 I dread the gallows mightily ; and a thief 
 That can talk after he's dead is a terrible bugbear. 
 
 [Exeunt 
 
 Scene v. 
 
 Enter Armelina, Bassanes, and Marullus. 
 
 Arni'. I'm come to Avait upon you, brother, and 
 To see how my dear sister, your Clorina, 
 Enjoys her health. I found among your servants 
 A general sorrow as I passed along, 
 And you, methinks, reflect distracted looks. 
 What is the reason of this alteration 
 Throughout your family 1 
 
 Bas. I am something troubled, 
 And now not in condition for discourse. 
 
 Arm. What is the matter, good Marullus 1 
 Though I may suppose some business that hath fallen 
 Athwart his expectation hath distemper'd 
 His thoughts at present, yet I guess he is not 
 Sick ; therefore my afflicted heart misgives me 
 That my poor sister is not well. Kesolve me. 
 Alas ! I see some malady hath taken her, 
 And he, like a good husband, suffers with her, 
 Grieves for her want of health. Is it not so 1 
 
 Bas. Sweet Armelina ! at this present leave me ! 
 I at another time will fitter be 
 To give you th' entertainment you deserve, 
 According to the utmost of my power. 
 
 Arm. The gods be with you ! My poor company 
 Shall be no longer to you troublesome. 
 I hope to find my sister in her chamber, 
 And will go sit with her.
 
 OVID, 273 
 
 Bas. She is not there. 
 
 Arm. Where is she, then 1 for I resolve to see her. 
 
 Bas. She's not in case to give you entertainment, 
 Or to receive a visit. 
 
 Arm. Alas ! you strike me 
 
 Almost as dead as I suspect she is. 
 For Heaven's sake, teach me where to find her ! 
 
 Bas. She is alive. 
 I pray you let that satisfy, and leave us. 
 
 Arm. Not for the world ! I will not leave the 
 house 
 Till I have seen and spoken with Clorina ! 
 
 Bas. My dear Marullus, since this lady is 
 So very importunate she'll not be diverted, 
 Guide her, I pray you, to her sister ! 
 
 3Iar. I must obey you, and, fair Arraelina, 
 Shall wait upon you. 
 
 Arm. Lead, and I follow you ! 
 
 [B.uunt Marullus and Armelina. 
 
 Bas. Now she will curse me, and traduce my name. 
 Though, the gods know, her sister's in the blame ! 
 He that refrains, for fear of women's tongues, 
 To right himself, basely submits to wrongs. [Exit. 
 
 Scene VL 
 
 After a small supper set forth, enter Hannibal ami 
 
 Cacala. 
 
 Han. What ! is this all we're like to have ] 
 
 Cac. So please your soldiership, renowned Captain, 
 This is even all ; and it may serve the turn, 
 Although I have an appetite as sharp 
 As your victorious sword, great Captain Hannibal ! 
 
 Hail. Where is Floretta, Cacala ] Go call her ! 
 She will rail at tliis meal, and call me covetous ! 
 
 Cue. I needs nui.st say, her stomach never failed her ; 
 Though she's but little, she's a tall woman at a 
 trencher ! 
 
 S
 
 274 OVID. 
 
 Han. Run and call her ! 
 Tell her the meat will be cold, and tlien 'tis spoiled. 
 
 Cac. I may save that labour ; Mistress Spinella hath 
 Invited her to supper. 
 They and Cypassis eat to-night together. 
 
 Han. Will Captain Dacus be there 1 
 
 Cac. I think not, sir. 
 I never knew Cypassis but an hungry ; 
 She's not so bountiful as to invite 
 Others to eat her meat up ! 
 
 Han. How comes it, then, Floretta is their guest 1 
 Sit down, and be not troublesome ! you know 
 I'd have it so. 
 
 Cac. I thank your valour. I have some small suspicion 
 Bassanes hath a liking took to your 
 Dear Damigella ; and Cypassis must 
 Court her, and tempt her to his various lust ! 
 
 Han. May be so, Cacala ; let him take his chance. 
 If he so lead, I'll follow him the dance ! 
 Then I will woo Spinella, and he shall 
 Father the spurious issue I shall get on her ! 
 Hark ! somebody knocks ! Rise, and inform me who 
 Is at the door. How, now 1 What ! art thou deaf, 
 And hearest me not 1 or dumb, because thou speak'st 
 
 not] 
 An apoplexy, sure, hath seized upon thee ! 
 Sit down again and drink a glass of wine. 
 It will recover thee. Well done ! Now eat thy meat. 
 Again there knocks somebody at the door : 
 Rise once more, sirrah, and conduct them in ! 
 Begone, or I shall kick you to your duty ! 
 
 [He opens the door, turns hack, and 
 falls down as in a swoon. 
 This idle rascal, sure, the falling sickness 
 Hath got of late ! I must be at the charge, 
 I fear, to send for a physician to him. 
 I wonder who it is, for somebody knocks 
 Again. It needs must be a stranger, else 
 He such long com})liment would not have show'd. 
 Still he knocks on ! I will go bring him in !
 
 OVID. ' 275 
 
 Enter Spectre. 
 
 Your name, sir, and your pleasure 1 
 
 Spec. My name Helvidius is. 
 
 Han. You are a stranger 
 
 Unknown to me ; I pray what is your business 1 
 
 Spec. I come to sup with you. 
 
 Han. Though clad so meanly, 
 
 You shall be welcome ! 
 
 Spec. I am not so rude 
 
 To press upon you uninvited, Captain ! 
 
 Hmi. Who should invite you? 
 
 Spec. Sir, yourself ! 
 
 Han. 'Tis strange 
 
 I should forget it, then ! 
 
 Spec. I come unlook'd for, noble Hannibal, 
 But you did bid me to supper to-night. 
 
 Han. My memory hath fail'd me. Where, Hel- 
 vidius 1 
 
 Spec. At the gibbet, by the city walls, 
 Where I did hang in chains. 
 
 Han. This is a courtesy deserves a welcome. 
 You are most welcome, sir, and so believe it ! 
 
 Spec. You are my generous patron, and I thank you ! 
 
 Han. Sit down, I pray ; sit down. So, 'tis well done ! 
 Cacala ! Where's Cacala 1 Give me a glass of wine. 
 What ! on the floor still 1 Rise, man ! 
 
 Cac. I dare not stir nor breathe, sir. 
 
 Han. He will not hurt you ! 
 
 Spec. I shall not be so rude, where I find welcome, 
 To do a mischief 
 
 Han. Fill wine, sir ! Much good do you, and here's 
 to you, — 
 To your fair mistress' health, Avhether alive. 
 Or your companion i' th' Elysian groves ! 
 
 Spec. You much endear me. 
 
 Han. Could T have thought you would have supp'd 
 with me. 
 You should have been much better treated. 
 Sit down and eat, thou silly Cacala !
 
 276 OVID. 
 
 Cac. I am very timorous. 
 
 Han. His promise and my valour do protect thee ! 
 
 Cac. This napkin, thus dispos'd under my hat, 
 Shall keep my eyes off him. I'll eat like a lion, 
 Because I sit in fear ; and after will 
 Chew the cud, as some beasts do, to digest it. 
 
 Spec. Good fellow, I salute thee with this bowl. 
 
 Cac. I have no mind to drink yet ; my master 
 Is the better pledger of such fancies. 
 
 Han. You shall not refuse him. Off with it, Cacala! 
 I'll conclude it ! 
 
 Sjjec. It has gone round. 
 
 Captain, your kindness hath so far oblig'd me, 
 That I presume to crave a favour of you. 
 
 Han. You shall command ! 
 
 Spec. I pray you, dine with me to-morrow. 
 
 Han. You jest ! 
 
 Spec. I am in earnest ! You shall be most welcome ! 
 
 Han. Where % 
 
 Spec. At the gibbet. 
 
 Han. I'll come. 
 
 Cac. Now my belly's full, I cannot forbear 
 To cast a sheep's eye at him. 
 
 Oh ! oh ! — \Cries aloiul, falls backward, and, with his 
 legs under the table, overthrows it and all 
 the meat. 
 
 Spec. I thank you, generous Captain, and good 
 night ! 
 
 Ha7i. Farewell, sir, and expect me as I promised! 
 
 [Exit Spectrk 
 Rise, thou unmannerly beast, and let's to bed ! 
 
 Cac. Good master, and thrice valiant Captain Han- 
 nibal, 
 See me in bed first, and asleep, I beseech you ! 
 And let me have Mistress Floretta, for I dare not lie 
 alone ! 
 
 Ha7i. Follow me, and undress me. 
 
 Cac. Sir, I beseech you have a little patience ! 
 Say that I shall not lie alone to-night. 
 And you will comfort me ! I otherwise
 
 OVID. 277 
 
 Shall be so weak with fear, I shall not be 
 Able to pluck your stockings off ! 
 
 Han, Get whom 
 
 Thou wilt to be thy bedfellow but Floretta, 
 For her I cannot spare, 
 
 Cac. Then, I entreat you, 
 
 Let me lie in the same bed with you both ! 
 
 Han. You must some other lodging find ! 
 
 Cac. Is 't so ] 
 
 Then I must old Cypassis try ; perhaps 
 A bottle of strong water will prevail so far with her 
 That she may give me leave to lie with her. 
 And yet I had much rather 
 Lie Avith my old grandmother or grandfather ! 
 
 Han. 'Tis said she was a beauty in her youth. 
 
 Cac. Sure no man can report it that hath seen it, 
 For I believe her birth was in the days 
 Of Lucius Brutus, who was Kome's first consul. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene vii. 
 
 Enter Marullus and Armelina to Clorina, fastened 
 in a chair, with the heart of Pyrontus in her hand. 
 
 Arm. Y'ave made me such a terrible relation 
 Of his strange jealousy and his foul murder. 
 And 's barbarous usage of your dear sweet self, 
 That, my Clorina, I'm deficient 
 Of language to express my admiration ! 
 But, my dull eyes, can you so long refrain 
 From dissolution into showers of tears ] 
 My heart is sure of stone, or it would break 
 At these effects of 's impious proceedings. 
 
 Clor. Have patience, my best sister ! 'Tis enough 
 For me to be so miserable — I would not 
 My sufferings should beget a grief in you ! 
 
 Ao'm. Then I more stupid were than savages — 
 Than any beast in any wilderness, 
 Or any fury in black hell itself !
 
 278 OVID. 
 
 Clor. Oh, Armelina, how am I beholding 
 Unto you for your pity of my wrongs ! 
 And yet I needs must grieve to see you thus 
 Afflict yourself at the sad sense of them. 
 But I beseech you to assume a courage 
 Worthy our noble family, to o'ercome it. 
 I shall but a few minutes longer trouble you 
 With my unfortunate company ! I find 
 My heart too weak to make resistance longer 
 Against the impetuous storm of my vast injuries 3 
 I find death stealing sensibly upon me. 
 
 Ann. The heavens forbid ! 
 
 Clor. Prayers come too late now to divert my fate. 
 I pray you, therefore, good Marullus, haste 
 To my dear husband, and your faithful friend, 
 Tell him I beg but so much favour from him 
 As I may breathe my soul out in his presence, 
 And see him once again, and I shall die 
 Contentedly, and pardon him my wrongs ! 
 
 Mar. Madam, I do beseech you to have patience ! 
 I will go for him, and have hope he will 
 Be very shortly reconcil'd unto you. 
 For, from my soul, I pity your misfortunes ! 
 
 [Exit Marullus. 
 
 Clcn: Shed no more tears ! You have, my Armelina, 
 Spent too much of that precious dew already 
 On poor unworthy me. 
 
 Ann. You are, Clorina, my elder and 
 My only sister, and can I perceive 
 Your innocency persecuted thus 
 And seem an unconcerned spectator of iti 
 It is impossible ! Give me leave, therefore, 
 T' express all sorrow I am capable of. 
 As tribute of my cordial affection 
 To your so lovely, sweet, and injured person ! 
 
 Enter Bassanes and Marullus. 
 
 Clor. Welcome, my too unkind though my dear 
 husband ! 
 To your Clorina ; welcome, my Bassanes !
 
 OVID. 279 
 
 My eyes grow dim, and I my heartstrings feel 
 
 To crack. Your harsh suspicion of my loyalty, 
 
 And so severe an usage of me, have 
 
 Cut off my life in prime of all my youth. 
 
 Here, with my parting breath, in presence of 
 
 The gods, witliin the hearing of your friend Marullus 
 
 And of my sister, I declare I die 
 
 Free from all guilt, and never injured you. 
 
 And so, farewell for ever ! Gods, I come ! 
 
 Afford my innocency in heaven a room. [She dies. 
 
 Mar. She hath took leave of life ! 
 Arm. I did not think 
 
 Her death had been so near. 
 
 Farewell for ever all content and pleasure ! 
 
 Since she is gone, no thought of joy shall ever 
 
 Possess my heart hereafter ; she that was 
 
 My only happiness is banish'd from me. 
 
 Look, monster of mankind ! this is a sight 
 Only befits the eyes of such a villain. 
 
 Here thou hast murder'd the most virtuous wife 
 That ever Hymen knew, and one that was 
 In her affection over fond of thee. 
 
 JBas. Your passion makes you speak you know not 
 what. 
 Your sister injur'd me in such high nature, 
 That she hath justly brought upon herself 
 The end that's come upon her. 
 
 Arm. Th' Anthropophagians, that devour man's 
 flesh. 
 By thee may be instructed in worse cruelties. 
 Wliat hellish wretch but thy more hellish self 
 Would thus have used a lady of her beauty ] 
 To ftisten with strong wires, in a case of mail, 
 A man's heart in his wife's own hand, and lock her 
 With chains into a chair fast, is a mischief 
 None but Bassanes durst have done. What tyrant 
 In history did ever act so ill 1 
 Perillus was an innocent to thee ! 
 The vengeance of high Jove liangs o'er thy head, 
 To strike thee with his forked thunder dead !
 
 280 OVID. 
 
 Bas. No husband but a wittol would have sufFer'd 
 The prostitution of his wife. 
 
 Arm. You slander her — basely belie her virtues ! 
 She to us all hath cleared herself. Marullus 
 And I heard her relate the story, — it was 
 The saddest that did ever fall from tongue, — 
 Which she before had told thee all at large. 
 She doted on thee to her death, and with 
 Her last expiring breath protested freely 
 Her innocency from thy imputed crime. 
 
 Bas. I care not what you say ; she was as foul 
 In her base actions as her face was fair ! 
 
 Ann. Thou dost traduce inhumanly her wtue, 
 And I believe forbad 'st she should have meat. 
 
 Bas. I did not think of it, and therefore gave 
 Forth no such order. 
 
 Arm. If the least humanity 
 
 Remains yet in thee, let her be releas'd 
 From these so barbarous bonds ; this heart remov'd 
 Out of her hand ; it, with Pyrontus' body, 
 Delivered to his friends for sepulchre ; 
 And I will take care for the funeral rites 
 Of sweet Clorina, my poor murder'd sister. 
 
 Bas. 'Twill ease me of some trouble and a charge, 
 Therefore I will consent to that demand ; 
 And the gods keep me from a second marriage ! 
 
 Arm. Thou need'st not fear that ; thou canst not 
 find a woman 
 So lost to virtue and to honour that 
 Dare be a wife to such a bloody butcher ! 
 Sure there's no woman in the world so senseless 
 And wicked as to give herself to thee. 
 I'll tell thy story unto all I meet. 
 And thy reproach shall ring through every street ! 
 
 Bas. Your 'larum may run on, whilst I'll declare 
 To all the world how false you women are. 
 
 [Eoxunt omiies.
 
 OVID. 281 
 
 Act v. — Scene i. 
 Enter Ovid, Phylocles, and Caralinda. 
 
 Ovid. I am amaz'd much, and afflicted more, 
 With the sad news you have imparted to us. 
 
 Plujl. All my entreaties could not win him thence ; 
 And therefore, missing him too long from home, 
 And knowing upon what design he stayed, 
 I did inquire of Armelina, who 
 Made me the sad relation you have heard. 
 Oh, brave Pyrontus, I lament thy fate, 
 That hast in love prov'd so unfortunate ! 
 
 Car. It is so sad a story you have made us, 
 That it draws tears from my eyes ! Though I was 
 A stranger to their persons, my weak sex 
 Allows me liberty to weep. A man 
 Would not be tax'd of softness, to relent 
 At so deplorable a history. 
 
 Phyl. Madam, I am so far from blaming you 
 For gracing with your tears their cruel fates. 
 That my heart chides mine own eyes for not melting. 
 Hell never plotted a worse tragedy. 
 Nor ever did so great a lover find 
 So merciless a death as Lord Pyrontus ; 
 Neither did ever virtue and beauty meet 
 So hideous a treatment as Clorina. 
 
 Ovid. Have you their bodies seen since they were 
 dead ] 
 Oh, Phylocles, if you those woeful objects 
 Have look'd upon, you have beheld a sight 
 More sad than ever Tomos was accus'd for ! 
 
 Phjjl. Alas ! I brought the heart and mangled 
 body 
 Of my dear friend Pyrontus to his house. 
 And did attend the corpse of fair Clorina 
 To Armelina's palace; where, alas! 
 No April shower ever fell so sweetly 
 As she doth weep over her sister.
 
 282 OVID. 
 
 Gar. A word with you, dear cousin Ovid. My eyes 
 Are big with tears, and my poor heart is leaden 
 With grief ! A thousand showers cannot drain them ; 
 And time wants years enough to wear away 
 The sense and memory of this woeful day. 
 
 Ovid. I must beseech you to have j^atience. 
 
 Car. I have too much, dear Ovid ! much too 
 much ! 
 But I will all the fortitude collect 
 That my poor heart is capable of, and shall 
 Suppress all signs exterior of grief. 
 You know the fortune which Trafullus told mel 
 I find it now points at me, and will therefore 
 Go walk abroad. You are acquainted well 
 "With Phylocles ; I'll leave you with him. 
 
 Ovid. I will attend upon you. 
 
 Car. By no means. 
 
 You are old and sickly, and I will not be 
 So troublesome. 
 
 Ovid. You shall not go alone ! 
 
 Good Phylocles, my cousin Caralinda 
 Is something indispos'd, and hath a mind 
 To take the air abroad ; you will oblige me 
 To bear her company. She is a stranger, 
 Which is the cause I crave the trouble from you. 
 
 Phijl. The noble Ovid may command me anything j 
 But you confer much grace on me to give 
 Me leave to wait upon a gallant lady 
 Of so surpassing excellencies. 
 
 Car. You compliment, sir, with me. 
 
 Ovid. Hereafter you may like better of her company 
 When you are more acquainted with her. 
 Beware, I pray you, what you do ! Take heed 
 
 [SjMaks to Caralinda aside. 
 You give not too much credit to predictions ! 
 Take heed your vengeance be not rash ! Beware 
 You bring not ruin on your flourishing youth ! 
 
 Car. I will not play the Amazon, believe it ; 
 And so, best j^oet, for a while farewell ! 
 
 Fhyl. Your servant, generous Ovid !
 
 OVID. 283 
 
 Ovid. Sir, I am yours ! 
 
 [Exeunt Caralinda and Phylocles. 
 
 love and jealousy ! what mighty power 
 You mighty passions have o'er human hearts ! 
 How you too often join within one breast, 
 And joys that would aspire keep low supprest. 
 To be enamoured on a beautiful object, 
 
 As natural to us is as t' eat and drink ; 
 But to suspect whom we affect 's a crime, 
 Declares a guiltiness -wdthin one's self — 
 A want of merit ! Then a wise man should 
 Make himself worthy of his mistress' love, 
 Or never prosecute his amorous suit. 
 A discreet lover, in a beauteous outside, 
 Exjiects a mind adorn'd with all the virtues, 
 And holds it an impiety to think 
 So rich a soul can ever stoop to vice. 
 Therefore the lover that is rightly bred 
 Admits no jealous thoughts into his head. 
 
 1 -wish Bassanes had prov'd such, then he 
 Might have enjoy 'd a happy life on earth ; 
 Too passionate Pyrontus then had liv'd, 
 
 And in some time might have o'ercome himself ; 
 
 The admirable and innocent Clorina 
 
 Had been alive ; this tragedy had never 
 
 Been acted here, which will be famous ever. [Exit. 
 
 Scene ii. 
 Enter Bassanes and Marullus. 
 
 Mar. If you would give me leave, as your known 
 friend. 
 Whom you have long grac'd with your amity, 
 To tell you freely my opinion, 
 And no offence take it, I should tell you, 
 My Lord Bassanes, I conceive you have 
 Been much too rash in your proceedings. 
 
 Eas. How ?
 
 284 OVID. 
 
 If such a thought you harbour of my actions, 
 I needs must tell Marullus that he thinks me 
 Guilty of my wife's blood ! Do not imagine 
 Your friend aspers'd with such a crime. She was 
 A gallant palace, to do her beauty right, 
 Where all the devils of lust inhabited. 
 
 Mar. I cannot tell ; but if one might give credit 
 To her so often serious protestations, 
 And to her vows utter'd with her last breath, 
 She was an innocent ! 
 
 Bas. They that dare play 
 
 So foul a game value not Avhat they say. 
 
 Enter Caralinda and Phylocles. 
 
 What lady is that ? 
 
 Mar. I never saw her before. 
 
 Bas. She is a miracle of such handsomeness. 
 She can no other be but Venus' self 
 
 Phyl. Yonder's the murderer of my Lord Pyrontus, 
 And the base user of the best of women ! 
 My blood is all on fire at this encounter ! 
 My hilt seems loadstone, and my hand of iron ; 
 I cannot keep it longer from my sword. 
 A sudden vengeance he deserves, which shall 
 Fall on him. At this present I'll revenge 
 The slaughter of my friend, and the sad death 
 Of his so barbarously abused Clorina ! 
 
 Car. Dear Phylocles, forbear ! I do conjure 
 you. 
 By all the love you bore unto Pyrontus, 
 Suppress your anger for a while ; yet know, 
 I wish him but a short reprieve, and hate him 
 As much as you. He at a fitter time 
 May find his destiny. Let it not be said 
 He died i' the presence of a tender maid ! 
 
 Phyl. I must obey you, madam. 
 
 Bas. She is an object so extremely ravishing, 
 I must speak to her. 
 
 Mar. I had thought you had 
 
 Done with that sex for ever 1
 
 OVID. 285 
 
 Bos. I resolv'd so ; 
 
 But beauty such a potent charm is known, 
 Strongest resolutions it hath overthrown. 
 Hail, female goddess ! or, if of womankind, 
 Hail, rich epitome of all the beauty 
 That ever yet in several women nature 
 Kevealed to human eyes ! 
 
 Car. Good Phylocles, 
 
 Draw back a little ! I would find to what 
 His fine words aim, and he will be more sparing, 
 If y'are too near us, to express himself 
 
 Phyl. I will retire a little ; but beware 
 His flatteries win not on your heart ! 
 Car. I warrant you. 
 Bas. My friend MaruUus, I beseech you walk 
 
 aside. 
 Mar. I shall, my lord, obey you. 
 Good day to Phylocles ! Pray, shun me not, 
 For I am much afflicted at the tragedies 
 Bassanes' rage and jealousy have acted. 
 I had no hand in them, and could I have 
 Prevented them, they had not been performed. 
 
 Car. You both provoke my wonder and my blushes. 
 Become enamour'd of a stranger 1 — one 
 You never saw before ] 
 
 Phyl. Marullus, he hath done such horrid acts. 
 The gods can never punish him enough. 
 
 Bas. It doth become your beauty to work such 
 wonders. 
 Madam, I am one of the chiefest persons 
 Of all tliis province, and have a heart to love you 
 Above the expressions of a thousand tongues ! 
 Car. Your name, sir, I beseech you? 
 Bas. 'Tis Bassanes ! 
 
 Car. What ! he that through his jealousy and fury 
 Murder'd Pyroutus and his innocent wife 1 
 
 Bas. You have been misinform'd. He did deserve 
 The fate he found ; and her shame broke her heart ! 
 I am the same Bassanes, but not guilty 
 Of any crime : they in their deaths found justice.
 
 286 OVID. 
 
 Car. I've heard too much of them already. 
 But how can you, so fresh a widower, so soon 
 Give entertainment to a second flame ? 
 
 Bas. Your beauty, that can work such miracles, 
 Is a sufficient reason. 
 
 Car. I may prove 
 
 The like sad destiny Clorina did. 
 Should I become your wife. 
 
 Bas. It is impossible ! 
 
 You are an heaven where all the \artues meet, 
 And therefore cannot be inconstant to 
 Your wedlock vows. 
 
 Car. I merit not, Bassanes, 
 
 This favour at your hands. If I e'er wed, 
 It shall be unto one of my own country. 
 
 Bas. Within a body form'd to all perfection. 
 That ever liberal nature and the gods ' 
 Could, can, or ever shall make up, fair stranger. 
 Give not an entertainment to contempt 
 Of your enslav'd Bassanes ; neither in 't 
 Lodge thoughts disdainful, nor a heart of flint ! 
 
 Car. 'Tis an astonishment in me to hear you 
 To make so passionate discourse to me, 
 Even one whose name you neither know, nor fortune ; 
 I may be poor and vicious. 
 
 Bas. Nothing but virtue 
 
 Can in a body so beautiful inhabit. 
 Vice dares not so presumptuous be as t' enter 
 Under so fair a roof ; and y' are so rich 
 In beauty, that I with more joy should marry you 
 Than t' be saluted emperor of the world ! 
 
 Car. You court me now, indeed. I have some 
 business 
 Of such concern, that at this time no longer 
 I can stay with you. 
 
 Bas. But must you needs begone 1 
 
 Car. I must, in truth. 
 
 Bas. When shall I, then, receive 
 
 So great a blessing as t' enjoy a second time 
 Your coveted company ?
 
 OVID. 287 
 
 Car. Within this half hour, 
 
 I'll meet you here again. 
 
 Bas. Y'ave raised me to 
 
 A joy as great as Jove himself can know. 
 
 Car. Come, generous Phylocles ; I will impart 
 Our parley free to you, and acquaint you 
 With the whole cause why I entreated you 
 To stifle your revenge, and to retard 
 His death : you shall know all my secret thoughts. 
 
 Phyl. Sweet Caralinda, you oblige me much ; 
 I shall attend you anywhere. 
 
 [Exeunt Caralinda and Phylocles. 
 
 Bas. Marullus, 
 
 Cupid hath pointed all his shafts with the 
 Fair beams of this bright lady's eyes. I am 
 Become enamour'd on her to that height. 
 That I must marry her or I shall die ! 
 
 Mar. The heavens forbid ! 
 
 Bas. Nay, rather, friend, may all the gods vouch- 
 safe it ! 
 
 Mar. You know not what she is ; she may be much 
 Unworthy of such nuptials. 
 Resist betimes ; physic too late is took, 
 When sickness, through delay, is fixed at th' root. 
 
 Bas. Surely she can 
 
 No other be but 0\'id's kinswoman, 
 Who, we have heard, so lately came to Tomos. 
 I will presume her, then, of noble birth. 
 That excellent poet is my worthy friend, 
 And I may hope will easily be won 
 T' assist me to attain her to my wife. 
 Methinks he should be glad to have his cousin 
 Well matched here, — to be fix'd a constant comfort 
 Both to his age and grief for his exilement. 
 
 Mar. May the just powers divine turn all to the 
 best ! 
 
 Bas. If I obtain her to become my wife, 
 A heaven on earth I shall enjoy this life ! [Exeunt.
 
 288 OVID. 
 
 Scene hi. 
 Enter Hannibal and Cacala. 
 
 Cac. Sir, I entreat you, my too valiant Captain, 
 To give me leave to return home ; I have 
 No mind to such a formidable dinner. 
 
 Han. What should' st thou fear ? My keen vic- 
 torious sword 
 Carries spells strong enough to conjure down 
 All the unruly fiends of Pluto's court ; 
 Therefore, for shame, take courage ! Thou hadst 
 
 wont 
 To have a good stomach to thy meat ; and sure 
 This gallant ghost Avill treat us very nobly. 
 
 Cac. I have an horror to such company, 
 And had a thousand times much rather be 
 "With Mistress Floretta, and converse with her. 
 
 Han. Thou talk'st so often of her, that I think 
 Thou art in love with her. 
 
 Cac. I must confess 
 
 I have some smackering that way ; but the awe 
 I stand in of your indignation 
 Deters me from professing my respects. 
 I wish your captainship would cast her off, 
 And give me leave to make her my honest wife. 
 
 Han. Thou talk'st impossibilities, fool Cacala, 
 To think to make an whore an honest woman ! 
 Such an one would indeed prove a strange wonder ; 
 And he that should to such an one be wed 
 Might raise a mighty portion to himself 
 By taking money for the sight of her. 
 
 Cac. His tongue's no slander. [Aside. 
 
 Han. Walk on ! we're almost there. 
 
 Cac. I'm monstrously afraid ! 
 
 Han. Fearnotliing in my company but the marrying 
 Of an whore. 
 
 Cac. I ever dreaded stories of hobgoblins. 
 But evermore abhorred the sight of them.
 
 OVID. 289 
 
 Beseech you, therefore, Captain Hannibal, 
 Give me leave to go back. 
 
 Han. Thou shalt not leave me. I will make thee 
 valiant, 
 And neither to fear men nor devils. 
 
 Cac. Heaven bless me ! 
 
 Han. We shall have a brave dinner, without doubt. 
 
 Cac. Instead of a calf's head and glorious bacon, 
 A skull half rotten of some malefactor, 
 Stolen from a neighbour gallows to his own ; 
 And in the place of a brave side of venison, 
 The salt haunch of some executed bawd ; 
 And in the room of Grecian wines, the moisture 
 That doth distil from their hang'd j)utrified bodies. 
 Sir, I will take my leave. 
 
 Han. Thou shalt go with me. 
 
 And, when employment calls me forth again, 
 I'll make thee my lieutenant. We're almost there. 
 Look you ! he is come down from off' his gibbet ! 
 'Tis the most courteous fellow that e'er died 
 By scurvy halter. Would his judges were 
 Truss'd up in 's place, and all the villanous jury 
 That did condemn so brave a spark ! 
 
 Enter Spectre. 
 
 Spec. Welcome, thou noblest son of Mars ! 
 Give me thy hand, thou servant to great Hannibal ! 
 Cac. I wish you would excuse me the compliment. 
 Spec. You need not fear me. 
 Han. Cacala, be courageous, and dread nothing ! 
 My friend Helvidius will no hurt do to thee. 
 Should Cerberus bark but at thee, with my sword 
 I at one blow would cut off" all his heads. 
 
 [A table set foiih, covered with a Uach linen 
 cloth ; all the nupkins of the same colour; the 
 meat and dishes, bottles, wine, and all things 
 also. 
 Spec. You see your entertainment, and are both 
 Most heartily welcome. Let us sit and eat ! 
 
 [They all sit down and eat. 
 T
 
 290 OVID. 
 
 Cac. I do not like the colour of this linen ; 
 The meat and wine and everything is black. 
 
 Spec. 'Tis the sole colour us'd in Pluto's court. 
 
 Cac. The meat tastes well, though. Though I had 
 rather be 
 At a piece of bread and cheese at Madam Cypassis', 
 I cannot choose but eat ; I think my fear 
 Hath added to my hunger. 
 
 Spec. Gallant Hannibal, 
 
 I dedicate this boAvl to thy Floretta. 
 
 Han. Off with it, then, thou only worthy of 
 The other world ! Here, Cacala, thou shalt pledge me ! 
 
 Cac. I'll do my weak endeavour. 
 
 Han. I thank you, sir, and in requital drink 
 To him or her you most affect. 
 
 Spec. Y'are noble. 
 
 Friend Cacala, here's to you! and you conclude it. 
 
 Cac. I dare not do otherwise. 
 
 Han. Would you excuse my curiosity, sir % 
 I would inciuire why you were executed % 
 
 Spec. I'll satisfy you. The lords and gentry of 
 This city Tomos gave order to a statuary 
 To make the image of the poet Ovid 
 In beaten massy gold, for the honour he 
 Had done them by writing an excellent poem 
 I' the Getick language in Tiberius' praise. 
 When it was ready to have been presented, 
 I got into the house and stole it thence, 
 Melted it privately, and put it off 
 By little parcels — sjient it on wanton wenches 
 And among boon companions. In my cups, 
 Bragg'd on 't to two false brothers, who betrayed me. 
 
 Han. I Avould tliey had been born both dumb and 
 fools ! 
 
 Spec. I pray you give me leave to be as free 
 With you. Why were you banish'd and confin'd ] 
 
 Han. A poor old Avoman, and a witch, a friend 
 Of mine, pretended an occasion to make use 
 Of a live infant, ripp'd out of the belly 
 Of 's mother ; and th' enchantment she was hammering
 
 OVID. 291 
 
 Was for my service. I stole into a cottage 
 That stood alone, where such a woman liv'd then ; 
 Found her alone, and had so laid my plot 
 That I might undisturbed jiroceed ; cut up 
 Her belly, took her infant thence, and sew'd 
 A cat up in the place. So she enjoin'd me. 
 This simple sorceress, being for other 
 Matters accused, and like to die, confess'd 
 Tliis prank. 
 
 Spec. How chanc'd it you escap'd with life 1 
 
 Cac. M}^ captain is the greatest villain that 
 I ever heard of ! I will leave his service, 
 Although I have oft been told of this before. ' 
 
 Han. The favourite, all-powerful Sejanus, 
 Did bring me off with life : I helped him to 
 Floretta's maidenhead, for which good turn 
 I also had some bags crammed with sesterces. 
 
 Spec. You had good fortune to escape so well. 
 
 Han. Some business calls me home. I give you 
 thanks 
 For this brave entertainment ; so, farewell ! 
 
 Spec. I pray you stay awhile ! you shall look on 
 A little masque I have provided for you. 
 
 Han. You much oblige me, and are over liberal 
 Of your high favours to me. 
 
 Enier, after very solemn loud music, ^Eacus, Rhada- 
 MANTHUS, and MiNOS, the Judges of Hell; Alecto, 
 TiSYPHONE, and Meg^ra, the Furies; and dance 
 all together to low music. 
 
 Spec, ^acus, Minos, and Rhadamanthus, the three 
 Judges in hell ! Tisyphone, Megaera, and Alecto, 
 The Furies there, of equal number to them. 
 Lead in a dance. 
 
 Cac. Can devils be so merry 1 
 
 But I had ever thought there had been rather 
 Three thousand judges there than three ; I wonder 
 Their number is so few. So of the Furies, 
 For oft on earth one woman hath more in her. 
 
 \_The dance ended, this song follotus.
 
 292 OVID. 
 
 Most happy is the libertine, 
 
 And of mankind the most ingenious, 
 Who from grave precepts doth decline. 
 And doth indulge his jovial genius! 
 < Oh, the joys, the joys. 
 They have that follow vice. 
 
 Without any fear of the gods ! 
 Who freely waste their treasures 
 To purchase them their pleasures. 
 And are with the virtuous at odds ! 
 
 The atheist is the greatest fool, 
 
 Who only aims to please his senses. 
 Thinking in heaven no gods bear rule, 
 
 And tipples, murders, swears, and wenches. 
 Oh, the woes, the woes, 
 That follow all those 
 
 Who wear out their lives in vice ! 
 That swear, whore, kill, and drink. 
 And never them bethink, 
 
 Till they fall into hell in a trice ! 
 [After the song is elided, they all seize on him, 
 and carry him away. 
 Han. Must I be then betrayed thus? False 
 Helvidius ! 
 And foolish Hannibal to trust to spectres ! 
 
 [Exeunt with him. 
 SjJec. Away with him ! Down to the infernal shades 
 Of griefly Pluto's kingdom let him sink ! 
 A fouler soul was never seen in hell, 
 Where's witchcrafts, rapes, murders, and vicious life 
 Will find a suitable endless punishment ! 
 
 [The Spectre vanishes. 
 Cac. This was a terrible sight indeed ! Heaven 
 keep me 
 But in my wits till I can see Floretta, 
 And I shall tell her such a tale as will 
 Make her turn virtuous, if she hath not lost 
 All love to th' powers divine, and fears no vengeance. 
 
 [Exit.
 
 OVID. 293 
 
 Scene iv. 
 
 Enter Bassanes, solus. 
 
 Bas. I find myself half raised to happiness 
 Already, after my so late affliction. 
 The stranger lady's beauties triumph here, 
 Within my heart. My hopes are fair enough 
 That I shall win her to become my wife ; 
 Then all my future days I shall esteem 
 To be a lasting festival, and more 
 To be priz'd by me than are all the feasts 
 Observ'd the year through in our calendar. 
 
 Enter Ph(ebianus and Phylocles. 
 
 Pha'h. I now have made you well acquainted with 
 My person and my history, and have to you 
 Reveal'd the reason why I did entreat 
 You to forbear Bassanes, when your rage 
 Would fain have flung you on him. Now you know 
 The cause why I will meet him. Give me, therefore, 
 Leave, noble Phylocles, to go alone ! 
 I fear him not at all, and shall not have 
 Any need of your kind assistance. 'Tis 
 The will, sure, of the gods, that I should singly 
 Encounter him. Therefore retire, my friend ! 
 Near hereabouts you can conceal yourself. 
 You within call may stay ; I shall have quickly 
 Despatch'd with him, and shall not fail then to 
 Holla you back. See there ! he is a-^valking, 
 And waiting my approach ! 
 
 Fhyl. You must command me. 
 The gods be Avith you ! [PHYLOCLES tvithdraivs. 
 
 Pliod). Well met, Bassanes ! Ovid's kinswoman, 
 The stranger Caralinda, hath employed me 
 To you, to make apology for her 
 Not meeting you according to her promise. 
 Why do you look so wistly on me % Do you 
 Know me 1
 
 294 OVID. 
 
 Bas. I certainly have seen your face 
 Before — some alteration that I find 
 Some years of absence might have made. Resolve me, 
 I pray you, sir ; are you not Phoebianus, 
 Pyrontus' younger brother, that have spent 
 Three or four years abroad 1 If y'are not he, 
 I never saw two faces so alike. 
 
 Fho:!). I Phoebianus am, and Caralinda, 
 "Whom you so lately troubled with your courtship. 
 Through the providence of the almighty gods 
 I met with thee in that disguise, and parted 
 From thee but to divest me of those clothes. 
 And bring my sword to our next parley. 'Tis needless 
 To tell thee more, and I have too much time 
 Tritled away in this discourse. Pray draw 
 Your sword, for one of us must die ! 
 Thou traitorously and unawares didst murder 
 My brave and hopeful brother ! Though he lov'd 
 Clorina, he deserv'd her better far 
 Than thou— never attempted violence unto her, 
 And in a little time might have subdu'd 
 His too unruly passion. Thou hast broke 
 Thy innocent lady's heart with usages 
 More horrid than a Scythian ever practis'd : 
 Therefore, unless you will die basely, draw ! 
 
 Bas. You are a glorious talker, fine young man, 
 But I shall i)resently allay your pride. 
 And the fond confidence you seem to have 
 ^n your own valour. 
 
 Phoib. Let us try your skill ! 
 
 Bas. Y' ave sought your ruin by provoking me. 
 
 [They fight. 
 
 Phoeh. So ! Have you yet enough 1 
 
 Bas. Oh ! you have slain me ! 
 I have received so home a thrust, I die 
 Without another Avord ! [Bassanes dies. 
 
 Enter Marullus. 
 
 Phceh. Marullus, in an equal duel I 
 Have kill'd your friend. The gods did guide my sword ;
 
 OVID. 295 
 
 Justice was on my side. He slew my brother, 
 And I in Roman honour could do no less ; 
 And to preserve my reputation clear 
 Among the Getes, my countrymen, than to 
 Fight fairly with him. 
 
 Mar. My mind misgave me some disastrous fate 
 Would overtake him for so foul a murder. 
 Though I am grieved at his sad death, I'm glad 
 You are, my lord, returned so safely home. 
 
 Phoeh. You'll see his body con vey'd unto his house? 
 
 Mar. I shall not fail. 
 
 Phoeh. The gods preserve you ! 
 
 Mar. Farewell, brave Phoebianus ! 
 
 Phceh. Friend Phylocles ! [Calls aloud. 
 
 I'hi/l. I'm at your service, here ! 
 
 Phoeh. Stay, and I'll come to you. [Exit. 
 
 3far. Draw near, you that his servants are, and bear 
 This sad load to his palace. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene v. 
 
 Enter Captain Dacus, Cacala, Cypassis, Floretta, 
 and Spinella. 
 
 Cyp. It was a lamentable spectacle 
 AYe met withal as we came hither. 
 
 Dae. An usual one — a dead man ! 
 We soldiers smile upon a thousand such. 
 
 Cyp. Bassanes was an extraordinary person. 
 
 Dae. Coesars and lords must die. 
 
 Cae. You talk of trifles. The story I related you 
 Of my master Captain Hannibal's being took away 
 
 with devils 
 Deserves to be call'd terrible indeed ! 
 Hell broke loose on him ; devils and devils' dams 
 Seiz'd both upon him ! He would fain have hung 
 An arse, l)ut no resistance could prevail. 
 Away they hurried him, and left me in 
 So great a fear I know not how I came home.
 
 296 OVID. 
 
 Flor. Thou hast told us too much of this already, 
 And too often. 
 
 Cac. 'Twill never out of my memory. 
 
 Flor. Nor from thy tongue, I fear. 
 
 Cac. Oh, fear the gods, Mistress Floretta ! fear 
 them ! 
 Take heed the devils show you not such a trick ! 
 Turn virtuous, pretty one, and marry me. 
 For I do love thee above womankind. 
 Show thyself, therefore, to me a kind woman. 
 
 Flor. Though I am sorry my Hannibal is perish'd 
 so, 
 I cannot call him back, and must some care 
 Take of myself ; and therefore, Cacala, 
 I'll be thy wife. All his remaining goods 
 Are ours. 
 
 Cac. And I have something, too, to trust 
 In my own country. 
 
 Cijp. Here's a match soon made up ! 
 
 Flor. AVe will return to Eome. 
 
 Cac. With all my heart ! 
 
 Dae. And will my fair Spinella prove as kind ? 
 
 Sinn. Now Lord Bassanes is dead, I am content 
 To receive Captain Dacus for my husband. 
 Mother, I hope of your allowance to it. 
 
 Cyp. And you shall have it. The gods grant you 
 
 joy! 
 Dae. ]\Iy mother Cypassis now indeed ! 
 
 Cyp. You knew her father. He was your country- 
 man. 
 And a fine gentleman when he in Eome 
 Did marry me ; I else should never have been 
 Content t' have liv'd in so remote a province. 
 Though his good nature and many losses at sea 
 Melted away most of his land, Ave have 
 Silver and gold enough to make you live 
 In plenty. 
 
 Dae. Mother, I kiss your reverend hand 
 In gratitude. What my own means may prove 
 Deficient in, my valour shall sui:)i)ly.
 
 OVID. 297 
 
 Spin. We'll have no fighting nor any quarrelling ; 
 I am for peace. Love hates the noise of war. 
 
 I)ac. You are too timorous. Grow as affectionate : 
 For thus I print my soul upon thy lips. 
 
 Cac. Let us go home, send for a priest of Hymen, 
 And presently each couple on 's be married ! 
 
 Omncs. Agreed ! agreed ! 
 
 Cac. I dare not lie alone to-night, for fear 
 My Captain or his friends should give me a visit. 
 
 Spin. Was Hannibal a gentleman by birth ] 
 
 Dae. My pretty one, 
 
 Brave Hannibal, the famous Carthaginian, 
 Who march'd like Mars even to the walls of Eome, 
 And fought against that senate for the world's empire. 
 In one of 's winter quarters at Salapia 
 Obtained the affection of a beautiful lady 
 Called Isidora, and from them he was 
 Descended lineally, as he lately told me. 
 
 Spin. And is now 
 
 Descended to the devil — we have heard how ! 
 
 [Exeunt omnes. 
 
 Scene vi. 
 
 Enter Ovid, Ph(EBIanus, Phylocles, Armelina, 
 and Servants. 
 
 Plwh. My father, on his deathbed, did enjoin me. 
 For education's sake, to stay so long. 
 You grace me, excellent Armelina, much, 
 After so long a trial to receive me. 
 
 Arm. I nothing have worthy your acceptation 
 But my reciprocal return of love. 
 
 Phceb. I kiss your hand for so immense a bounty. 
 But why, my fairest, would you never honour 
 My many letters with one single answer % 
 
 Arm. I durst not, fearing among the Roman ladies 
 You might have made a second choice, and then 
 Have left me, blasted in my reputation. 
 
 Phceh. I was too true, and you was too severe !
 
 298 OVID. 
 
 Arm. But wherefore come you so disguis'd 1 and 
 why 
 From me would you conceal yourself 1 
 
 Phceb. 'Tis reasonable that I should satisfy you. 
 Just upon my departure out of Italy, 
 ]My curiosity led me to Trafullus, 
 One of the chief astrologers of these times, 
 And happy in foretelling future fortunes. 
 I made friends to him, and received these A^erses : 
 
 " Return disguis'd in woman's clothes, and you 
 The murderer of your friend shall pay his due ! 
 Obtain your mistress to become your bride, 
 And with her gain a world of wealth beside." 
 
 Ovid. Bassanes his death, and fair Clorina's wealth. 
 You being her heir, added to your great portion, 
 Confirm for truth the soothsayer's prediction. 
 
 Ar7n. And I again must thank you for so bravely 
 Revenging on Bassanes his foul cruelties. 
 But why, my Phoebianus, would you not 
 Disclose yourself to me 1 
 
 Phceb. You are my countrywoman, and I fear'd 
 So doing I should have broken my injunctions. 
 But now, divinest lady, when shall I 
 Be made so happy by your gracious self 
 As to receive you for my bride ? 
 
 Arm. As soon 
 
 As I can give some stint unto my tears ; 
 After my sister's obsequies are past. 
 
 Phi/I. Pray, listen ! What noise is that without ? 
 I think I hear a horn, and 'tis some post. 
 
 Enter a Post. 
 
 Phceb. From whence, vay friend, come you 1 
 Post. From Rome. 
 Phi/l. What news ] 
 
 Post. I've letters for the famous poet Ovid. 
 Ovid. Deliver them ; I am that unfortunate man ! 
 [OviD breaks ojpen his letters and reads.
 
 OVID. 299 
 
 I am undone for ever ! — No more hope 
 
 For my return must ever flatter me ! 
 
 My wife writes to me, she hath us'd the utmost 
 
 Of her endeavour, assisted by the chiefest 
 
 Of both our friends, and of most power with Csesar, 
 
 For my repeal, or but, at least, removal 
 
 To a more temperate clime, and that th' are both 
 
 Eefus'd her, and she enjoin'd perpetual silence 
 
 In my behalf. Besides, my friend Gra3cinus, 
 
 A Roman of high note, hath writ me word 
 
 The gracious Princess Julia, our great empress, 
 
 And my best friend, is in Trimerus dead. 
 
 One of these news were much too much to strike 
 
 My poor and crazy body into my grave. 
 
 But, joining both their poisonous stings together, 
 
 I needs must to the world this truth impart, 
 
 That Ovid dies here of a broken heart ! [Lies. 
 
 Phyl. It was too sad a truth his last breath did 
 Express, for he, alas, is dead indeed ! 
 
 Ann. Death is too prodigal of his tragedies 
 In this small city. I must spare from my 
 Clorina's fate one shower of tears, to shed 
 Upon his grave ! 
 
 Phyl. Not only we, but all the Getic nation 
 Were worse than barbarous, paid we not tliat 
 
 duty 
 To excellent Ovid's infelicitous end. 
 
 Arm. He was a most accomplished gentleman, 
 A person aff"able and sweet conditioned, 
 And of the Roman poets the most ingenious. 
 
 Phjl. He was in Italy at Sulmo born, 
 A pleasant city within the territory 
 Of the Peligui, and descended of 
 The ancient family of the Nasones, 
 Who had preserv'd the dignity of Roman 
 Kni "flits from the first oriirinal of that order. 
 I' til' Asiatic wars he under Varro 
 Had eminent command, and well discharged it, 
 Who now, alas ! after seven years' exilement. 
 Hopeless of a repeal, hath breath'd his last !
 
 300 OVID. 
 
 Arm. Take up his noble body, and bear it gently 
 To liis own house ; we all will wait on it thither. 
 
 Phoeb. I'll have a stately monument erected 
 Without our city walls, near the chief gate, 
 To his fair memory, to declare the gratitude 
 Of Tomos to him for the honour it 
 Receiv'd by his so long abode among us ; 
 Enclos'd in which, within a marble urn. 
 Curiously wrought, his ashes shall for ever 
 Eemain in peace, an endless grace to Pontus ! 
 
 Fhi/1, No poet ever did more glory contribute 
 Unto the Latin language than his pen. 
 The soul of poetry feels a convulsion 
 By his decease. He no superior knew 
 In that sweet art, and was great Virgil's equal. 
 His works have an eternity stamp'd on them — 
 Do far exceed the Consul Cicero's verses 
 And all the lines sacred Augustus ever 
 Writ in a numerous strain — all the fine poems 
 The darling of the people, the facetious 
 And valiant Prince Caesar Germanicus, 
 Hath published with applause — and all such things, 
 Though wrote by hands that were the spoil of kings. 
 [Ovid's body being removed, exeunt omnes.
 
 THE EPILOGUE. 
 
 Noble and generous spectators, stay ! 
 A word at parting, and then go your way. 
 Our author is stol'n hence in mighty haste, 
 Because he thought the house was overcast 
 With clouds on every brow, and was in dread 
 A storm would else have fallen upon his head. 
 I am his friend, left purposely behind, 
 T' inform him how his fate proves — harsh or kind. 
 Beseech you, ladies, smile ! Their general frown 
 Portends the men will hiss our tragedy down. 
 Command them clap their hands, for it is strange 
 If men forbear when women bid them change. 
 I thank you, ladies ! thank you, gentlemen ! 
 To-morrow you may be welcome here again !
 
 MURKAY A5D GIBB, EDINBURGH, 
 PRINTERS TO HKR MAJESTY S STATIONERy 0FF1CP-.
 
 WILLIAM PATERSON 
 67 PRINCES STREET, EDINBURGH. 
 
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