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But I come furnished with what will stop
The mouth of his conspiracy 'gainst the life
Of innocent Charalois. Do you know this cha-
racter?

Nov. sen. Yes, 'tis my son's.

Rom. May it please your lordships, read it,
And you shall find there, with what vehemency
He did solicit Beaumelle; how he got
A promise from her to enjoy his wishes;
How after he abjured her company,

And yet but that 'tis fit I spare the dead-
Like a damned villain, as soon as recorded,
He brake that oath: To make this manifest,
Produce his bawds and her's.

Enter Officers with AYMER, FLORIMEL, and
BELLAPERT.

Charmi. Have they ta'en their oaths?

Rom. They have, and, rather than endure the rack,

Confess the time, the meeting, nay the act; What would you more? Only this matron made A free discovery to a good end;

And therefore I sue to the court, she may not Be placed in the black list of the delinquents. Pont. I see by this, Novall's revenge needs me, And I shall do

Charmi. 'Tis evident.

Nov. sen. That I

Till now was never wretched: Here's no place To curse him or my stars. [Exit NOVALL sen.

Charmi. Lord Charalois,

The injuries you have sustained appear
So worthy of the mercy of the court,
That, notwithstanding you have gone beyond

The letter of the law, they yet acquit you. Pont. But, in Novall, I do condemn him-thus. [Stabs him.

Char. I am slain !

Rom. Can I look on? Oh, murderous wretch! Thy challenge now I answer. So! die with him. [Stabs PONTALIER.

Charmi. A guard! disarm him.

Rom. I yield up my sword Unforced-Oh, Charalois !

Char. For shame, Romont!

Mourn not for him that dies as he hath lived, Still constant and unmoved; what's fallen upon me,

Is by Heaven's will, because I made myself
A judge in my own cause without their warrant:
But he, that lets me know thus much in death,
With all good men-forgive me! [Dies.

Pont. I receive

The vengeance, which my love, not built on virtue,

Has made me worthy, worthy of.

Charmi. We're taught

[Dies.

By this sad precedent, how just soever
Our reasons are to remedy our wrongs,
We're yet to leave them to their will and power,
That to that purpose have authority.
For you, Romont, although in your excuse
You may plead what you did was in revenge
Of the dishonour done unto the court,
Yet, since from us you had not warrant for it,
We banish you the state: For these, they shall,
As they are found guilty or innocent,
Or be set free, or suffer punishment.

[Exeunt.

VOL. I.

R

THE

BROKEN HEART.

BY

FORD.

AMYCLAS,

THE SPEAKERS' NAMES FITTED TO THEIR QUALITIES,*

Common to the kings of Laconia. ITHOCLES, Honour of loveliness, a favorite. ORGILUS, Angry, son to Crotolon. BASSANES, Veration, a jealous nobleman. ARMOSTES, An appeaser, a counsellor of state. CROTOLON, Noise, another counsellor, PROPHILUS, Dear, friend to Ithocles. NEARCHUS, Young Prince, prince of Argos. TECNICUS, Artist, a philosopher. HEMOPHIL,

Glutton,

GRONEAS, Tavernhunter, Two courtiers,

AMELUS,

Trusty, friend to Nearchus.

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SCENE.-Sparta.

PERSONS INCLUDED.

Fierceness, father of Ithocles. Simplicity, Orgilus so disguised.

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* This whimsical enumeration of the Dramatis Personæ has been carefully preserved from the old copy.

ACT I.

Partly by threats, he wooes, at once, and forces,

SCENE I.-An Apartment in the House of His virtuous sister to admit a marriage

CROTOLON.

Enter CROTOLON and ORGILUS.

Crot. Dally not further; I will know the reason,

That speeds thee to this journey.
Org. Reason, good sir?

I can yield many.

Crot. Give me one, a good one,

Such I expect, and e'er we part must have:
Athens? pray, why to Athens? you intend not
To kick against the world, turn cynic, stoic,
Or read the logic lecture, or become
An areopagite; and judge in causes

Touching the commonwealth? for, as I take it,
The budding of your chin cannot prognosticate
So grave an honour.

Org. All this I acknowledge.

With Bassanes, a nobleman, in honour
And riches, I confess, beyond my fortunes.
Crot. All this is no sound reason to importune
My leave for thy departure.

Org. Now it follows,

Beauteous Penthea, wedded to this torture
By an insulting brother, being secretly
Compell'd to yield her virgin freedom up
To him, who never can usurp her heart,
Before contracted mine, is now so yok'd
To a most barbarous thraldom, misery,
Affliction, that he savours not humanity,
Whose sorrow melts not into more than pity,
In hearing but her name.

Crot. As how, pray?

Org. Bassanes,

The man that calls her wife, considers tru

Crot. You do? Then, son, if books and love What heaven of perfections he is lord of,

of knowledge

Inflame you to this travel, here in Sparta

You may as freely study.

Org. 'Tis not that, sir.

By thinking fair Penthea his: This thought Begets a kind of monster love, which love Is nurse unto a fear so strong, and servile, As brands all dotage with a jealousy,

Crot. Not that, sir? As a father, I command All eyes who gaze upon that shrine of beauty,

thee

To acquaint me with the truth.

Org. Thus I obey you:

After so many quarrels, as dissentions,

Fury, and rage, had broach'd in blood, and sometimes

With death to such confederates, as sided With now dead Thrasus, and yourself, my lord, Our present king Amyclas reconciled

Your eager swords, and seal'd a gentle peace: Friends you profess'd yourselves, which to confirm,

A resolution for a lasting league
Betwixt your families was entertain'd,
By joining, in a Hymenean bond,

Me and the fair Penthea, only daughter

To Thrasus.

Crot. What of this?

Org. Much, much, dear sir.

A freedom of converse, an interchange
Of holy and chaste love, so fixt our souls
In a firm growth of holy union, that no time
Can eat into the pledge; we had enjoy'd
The sweets our vows expected, had not cruelty
Prevented all those triumphs we prepared for,
By Thrasus his untimely death.

Crot. Most certain.

Org. From this time sprouted up that poisonous stalk

Of aconite, whose ripen❜d fruit hath ravished
All health, all comfort, of a happy life:
For Ithocles her brother, proud of youth,
And prouder in his power, nourish'd closely
The memory of former discontents,
To glory in revenge; by cunning partly,

He doth resolve, do homage to the miracle;
Some one, he is assur'd, may now and then
If opportunity but sort) prevail;

So much out of a self unworthiness
His fears transport him: not that he finds cause
In her obedience, but his own distrust.

Crot. You spin out your discourse.
Org. My griefs are violent;
For, knowing how the maid was heretofore
Courted by me, his jealousies grow wild
That I should steal again into her favours,
And undermine her virtues; which the gods
Know, I nor dare, nor dream of: hence, from
hence

I undertake a voluntary exile.

First, by my absence to take off the cares
Of jealous Bassanes; but chiefly, sir,
To free Penthea from a hell on earth;
Lastly, to lose the memory of something,
Her presence makes to live in me afresh.

Crot. Enough, my Orgilus, enough: To Athens
I give a full consent: Alas, good lady!—
We shall hear from thee often?

Org. Often.

Crot. See,

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Euphrania's oath must yield me satisfaction. Euph. By Vesta's sacred fires, I swear. Crot. And I,

By great Apollo's beams, join in the vow, Not, without thy allowance, to bestow her On any living.

Org. Dear Euphrania,

Mistake me not; far, far, 'tis from my thought,
As far from any wish of mine, to hinder
Preferment to an honourable bed,
Or fitting fortune; thou art young and handsome,
And t'were injustice, more, a tyranny,
Not to advance thy merit. Trust me, sister,
It shall be my first care to see thee match'd
As may become thy choice, and our contents;
I have your oath.

Euph. You have; but mean you, brother,
To leave us, as you say?

Crot. Aye, aye, Euphrania :

He has just grounds direct him: I will prove
A father and a brother to thee.

Euph. Heaven

Does look into the secrets of all hearts:
Gods, you have mercy with ye! else-

Crot. Doubt nothing,

Thy brother will return in safety to us.

Örg. Souls sunk in sorrows never are without them;

They change fresh airs, but bear their griefs about them. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Room in the Palace. A Flourish. Enter AMYCLAS the king, ARMOSTES, PROPHILUS, and attendants.

Amy. The Spartan gods are gracious; our humility

Shall bend before their altars, and perfume
Their temples with abundant sacrifice.

See, lords, Amyclas, your old king, is entering
Into his youth again. I shall shake off

This silver badge of age, and change this snow
For hairs as gay as are Apollo's locks;
Our heart leaps in new vigour.

Armo. May old time

Run back to double your long life,

great sir!

Amy. It will, it must, Armostes; thy bold ne

phew,

Death-braving Ithocles, brings to our gates
Triumphs and peace upon his conquering sword.
Laconia is a monarchy at length;
Hath in this latter war trod under foot
Messene's pride; Messene bows her neck
To Lacedemon's royalty: O'twas
A glorious victory, and doth deserve
More than a chronicle! a temple, lords,
A temple to the name of Ithocles.

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Most gracious sovereign; twenty of the noblest
Of the Messenians there attend your pleasure,
For such conditions as you shall propose,
In settling peace, and liberty of life.

Amy. When comes your friend, the general?
Pro. He promis'd

To follow with all speed convenient.

Enter CROTOLON, CALANTHA, CHRYSTALLA, PHILEMA and EUPHRANIA.

Amy. Our daughter?-Dear Calantha, the happy news,

The conquest of Messene, hath already
Enrich'd thy knowledge?

Calan. With the circumstance

And manner of the fight, related faithfully
By Prophilus himself. But, pray, sir, tell me,
How doth the youthful general demean
His actions in these fortunes?

Pro. Excellent princess,

Your own fair eyes may soon report a truth
Unto your judgment, with what moderation,
Calmness of nature, measure, bounds and limits
Of thankfulness and joy, he doth digest
Such amplitude of his success, as would
In others, moulded of a spirit less clear,
Advance them to comparison with heaven,
But Ithocles-

Cal. Your friend.

Proph. He is so, madam,

In which the period of my fate consists;
He, in this firmament of honour, stands
Like a star, fixt, not mov'd with any thunder
Of popular applause, or sudden lightning
Of self-opinion : He hath servd his country,
And thinks 'twas but his duty.

Crot. You describe

A miracle of man.

Amy. Such, Crotolon,

On forfeit of a king's word, thou wilt find him: Hark, warning of his coming; all attend him ! [Flourish.

Enter ITHOCLES; HEMAPHIL, and GRONEAS, and the rest of the Lords, ushering him in. Amy. Return into these arms, thy home, thy sanctuary,

Delight of Sparta, treasure of my bosom,
Mine own, own Ithocles!

Itho. Your humble subject.

Armo. Proud of the blood I claim an interest in, As brother to thy mother, I embrace thee, Right noble nephew.

Itho. Sir, your love's too partial.

Crot. Our country speaks by me, who, by thy

valour,

Wisdom, and service, shares in this great action;
Returning thee, in part of thy due merits,
A general welcome.

Itho. You exceed in bounty.

Cal. Chrystalla, Philema, the chaplet!-Ithocles, Upon the wings of fame, the singular

And chosen fortune of an high attempt

Is borne so past the view of common sight,
That I myself, with mine own hands, have wrought,
To crown thy temples, this provincial garland;
Accept, wear, and enjoy it, as our gift
Deserv'd, not purchas'd!

Itho. You're a royal maid.

Amy. She is, in all, our daughter.

Itho. Let me blush,

Acknowledging how poorly I have served,

Pray, in earnest, how many men a-piece
Have you two been the death of?
Gron. Faith, not many;
We were compos'd of mercy.
Hemo. For our daring,

You heard the general's approbation
Before the king.

Christ. You wish'd your country peace;

That shew'd your charity: where are your spoils,

What nothings I have done, compar'd with the Such as the soldier fights for?

honours

Heap'd on the issue of a willing mind;
In that lay mine ability, that only.
For who is he, so sluggish from his birth,
So little worthy of a name, or country,
That owes not, out of gratitude for life,
A debt of service, in what kind soever
Safety, or counsel of the commonwealth,
Requires for payment?

Cal. He speaks truth.
Itho. Whom heaven

Is pleas'd to stile victorious, there, to such,
Applause runs madding, like the drunken priests
In Bacchus' sacrifices, without reason;
Voicing the leader on a demi-god;

When as indeed, each common soldier's blood
Drops down as current coin in that hard purchase,
As his, whose much more delicate condition
Hath suck'd the milk of ease: judgment com-
mands,

But resolution executes. I use not,
Before this royal presence, these fit sleights
As in contempt of such as can direct:
My speech hath other end; not to attribute
All praise to one man's fortune, which is strength-

en'd

By many hands. For instance, here is Prophilus, A gentleman, (I cannot flatter truth,)

Of much desert; and, though in other rank,
Both Hemophil and Groneas were not missing
To wish their country's peace; for, in a word,
All there did strive their best, and 'twas our duty.
Amy. Courtiers turn soldiers? We vouchsafe
our hand;

Observe your great example.
Hemo. With all diligence.
Gron. Obsequiously and hourly.
Amy. Some repose

After these toils is needful; we must think on
Conditions for the conquer'd; they expect them.—
On!-Come, my Ithocles!

Euphr. [To Prophilus.] Sir, with your favour, I need not a supporter.

Proph. Fate instructs me.

[Exeunt. Manent HEMOPHIL, detaining CHRISTALLA, and GRONEAS, PHILEMA. Christ. With me?

Phil. Indeed, I dare not stay.

Hemo. Sweet lady,

Soldiers are blunt; your lip.

Christ. Fye, this is rudeness:

You went not hence such creatures.

Gron. Spirit of valour

Is of a mounting nature.

Phil. It appears so.—

Phil. They are coming.

Christ. By the next carrier, are they not? Gron. Sweet Philema,

When I was in the thickest of mine enemies, Slashing off one man's head, another's nose, Another's arms and legs,

Phil. And altogether.

Gron. Then I would with a sigh remember thee,

And cry," dear Philema, 'tis for thy sake

I do these deeds of wonder!" Dost not love me With all thy heart now?

Phil. Now, as heretofore;

I have not put my love to use, the principal
Will hardly yield an interest.
Gron. By Mars,
marry thee!

I'll

Phil. By Vulcan, you're forsworn, Except my mind do alter strangely. Gron. One word.

Christ. Youlie beyond all modesty; forbear me! Hemo. I'll make thee mistress of a city, 'tis Mine own by conquest.

Christ. By petition; sue for't

In forma pauperis.-City? kennell.-Gallants,
Off with your feathers; put on aprons, gallants,
Learn to reel thrums or trim a lady's dog,
And be good quiet souls of peace, hobgoblins!
Hemo. Christalla!

Christ. Practise to drill hogs, in hope
To share in th' acorns-Soldiers? corn cutters;
But not so valiant; they oft-times draw blood,
Which you durst never do. When you have
practised

More wit, or more civility, we'll rank ye

I'th' list of men: till then, brave things at arms, Dare not to speak to us, most potent Groneas!Phil. And Hemophil the hardy! At your ser

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