Fool. Chilax!

Chi. Please me well, Fool,

And you shall light my pipes. Away to th' temple! But stay the king is here: Sport upon sport, boys.

Enter King, Lords, SIPHAX kneeling; CLOE with a veil.
King. What would you have, captain?
Speak suddenly, for I am wond'rous busy.
Sip. A pardon, royal sir.

King. For what?

Sip. For that,

Which was heaven's will, should not be mine alone, My marrying with this lady.

King. It needs no pardon,

For marriage is no sin.

Sip. Not in itself, sir;

But in presuming too much: Yet, Heaven knows,
So does the oracle that cast it on me,
And the princess, royal sir.

King. What princess?

Sip. Oh, be not angry, my dread king! your sister.

King. My sister! she's i' th' temple, man.
Sip. She is here, sir.

Lord. The captain's mad! she's kneeling at the

altar.

King. I know she is.-With all my heart, good captain,

I do forgive ye both: Be unveil'd, lady.

[Puts off her veil. Will you have more forgiveness? The man's frantic. Come, let's go bring her out.-God give you joy, Sip. How! Cloe? my old Cloe? [sir. [Exeunt King, Lords.

Cloe. Even the same, sir.
Chi. Gods give your manhood much content!
Stre. The princess

Looks something musty since her coming over.
Fool. 'Twere good you would brush her over.
Sip. Fools and fiddlers

Make sport at my abuse too!

Fool. Oh, 'tis the nature

Of us fools to make bold with one another;
But you are wise, brave sir.

Chi. Cheer up your princess.
Believe it, sir, the king will not be angry;
Or, say he were; why, 'twas the oracle:
The oracle, an't like your grace; the oracle.
Stre. And who, most mighty Siphax-
Sip. With mine own whore?

Cloe. With whom else should you marry; speak your conscience,

Will you transgress the law of arms, that ever
Rewards the soldier with his own sins?

Sip. Devils!

Cloe. You had my maidenhead, my youth, my

Is it not justice, then?

Sip. I see it must be;

[sweetness;

But, by this hand, I'll hang a lock upon thee.

Cloe. You shall not need; my honesty shall

do it.

He shall appear a miracle: Look on our dangers, Look on the public ruin.

Calis. Oh, dear brother!

King. Fy! let us not, like proud and greedy
Gain to give off again: This is our sea, [waters,
And you, his Cynthia, govern him; take heed:
His floods have been as high and full as any,
And gloriously now he's got up to girdle
The kingdoms he hath purchased. Noble sister,
Take not your virtue from him; oh, take heed
We ebb not now to nothing; take heed, Calis!
Calis. The will of Heaven (not mine) which
must not alter,

And my eternal doom, for aught I know,
Is fix'd upon me. Alas, I must love nothing;
Nothing that loves again must I be bless'd with!
The gentle vine climbs up the oak, and clips him,
And when the stroke comes, yet they fall together.
Death, death must I enjoy, and live to love him!
Oh, noble sir.

Mem. Those tears are some reward yet :
Pray, let me wed your sorrows.

Calis. Take 'em, soldier;

They are fruitful ones; lay but a sigh upon 'em, And straight they will conceive to infinites:

I told you what you would find 'em.

Eum. [Within]. Room before there!

A hearse is brought in, upon which POLYDORE is laid, covered, and seemingly dead; EUMENES, POLYBILS, and PELIUS following.

King. How now? what's this more drops to Whose body's this?

Eum. The noble Polydore:

This speaks his death.

Mem. My brother dead?

[th' ocean?

[Shewing a letter.

Calis. Oh, goddess!

Oh, cruel, cruel Venus! here's my fortune.
King. Read, captain.

Mem. Read aloud -Farewell, my follies!
Polyb. [Reading.] "To the excellent princess
Calis.

Be wise as you are beauteous; love with judgment,
And look with clear eyes on my noble brother;
Value desert and virtue, they are jewels

Fit for your worth and wearing. Take heed, lady;
The gods reward ingratitude most grievous.
Remember me no more; or, if you must,
Seek me in noble Memnon's love; I dwell there.
I durst not live because I durst not wrong him.
I can no more; make me eternal happy
With looking down upon your loves. Farewell!"'
Mem. And didst thou die for me-
King. Excellent virtue!

And carried beyond compass of our actions.
I wonder how he hit it; a young man too,
In all the blossoms of his youth and beauty,
In all the fulness of his veins and wishes,
Woo'd by that paradise, that would catch Heaven!
It startles me extremely. Thou bless'd ashes,
Thou faithful monument, where love and friendship
Shall, while the world is, work new miracles!
Calis. Oh, let me speak too!

Mem. No, not yet.-Thou man,
(For we are but man's shadows) only man--
I have not words to utter him.-Speak, lady;
I'll think a while.

Calis. The goddess grants me this yet,

I shall enjoy thee dead: no tomb shall hold thee
But these two arms, no trickments but my tears:
Over thy hearse my sorrows, like sad arms,
Shall hang for ever: On the toughest marble
Mine eyes shall weep thee out an epitaph:

Love at thy feet shall kneel, his smart bow broken;
Faith at thy head, Youth and the Graces mourners.
Oh, sweet young man !

King. Now I begin to melt too.

Mem. Have you enough yet, lady? Room for a gamester!

To my fond love, and all those idle fancies,
A long farewell! Thou diedst for me, dear Poly-

dore ;

To give me peace, thou hast eternal glory!—
I stay and talk here! I will kiss thee first,
And now I'll follow thee.

[Offers to kill himself. Polyd. [Rises. ] Hold, for Heaven's sake! Mem. Ha! does he live? Dost thou deceive me?

[love,

Polyd. Your love, sir. Mem. And you shall have it, even my dearest My first, my noblest love: Take her again, sir; She's yours, your honesty has over-run me. She loves you; lov'st her not?-Excellent princess, Enjoy thy wish; and now, get generals.

Polyd. As you love Heaven, love him.-She's only yours, sir.

Mem. As you love Heaven, love him.-She's My lord the king—— [only yours, sir.

Polyd. He will undo himself, sir, And must without her perish :

Who shall protect your kingdom?

Mem. Give me hearing,

Who shall fight

[then?

And, after that, belief. Were she my soul,
(As I do love her equal) all my victories,
And all the living names I have gain'd by war,
And loving him, that good, that virtuous good man,
That only worthy of the name of brother,

I would resign all freely. 'Tis all love
To me, all marriage rites, the joy of issues,
To know him fruitful, that has been so faithful!
King. This is the noblest difference-Take your
choice, sister.

Calis. I see they are so brave, and noble both, I know not which to look on.

Polyd. Choose discreetly,

And Virtue guide you! There all the world, in one Stands at the mark.

Mem. There all man's honesty,

The sweetness of all youth.

Calis. Oh, gods!

Mem. My armour!.

[man,

By all the gods, she's yours!-My arms, I say! And, I beseech your grace, give me employment: That shall be now my mistress, there my courtship. King. You shall have anything.

Mem. Virtuous lady,

Remember me, your servant now.-Young man,
You cannot over-reach me in your goodness.--
Oh, Love! how sweet thou look'st now, and how

gentle !

I should have slubber'd thee, and stain'd thy Your hand, your band, sir! [beauty.

SCENE I.-Moscow. A Street.

Enter THEODORE and PUTSKIE.

princess has her;

Who, I assure myself, will use her nobly.

A pretty sweet one 'tis, indeed.

Puts. Well bred, sir,

I do deliver that upon my credit,

And of an honest stock.

Theod. It seems so, captain,

And no doubt will do well.

Puts. Thanks to your care, sir.

But tell me, noble colonel, why this habit
Of discontent is put on through the army?
And why your valiant father, our great general,
The hand that taught to strike, the love that led
Why he, that was the father of the war,

[all,

Theod. It must be so. Captain, you are a stranger, But of a small time here a soldier,

Yet that time shews you a right good and great

Deserved of this man too; highly deserved too : Had they been less, they had been safer, Putskie, And sooner reach'd regard.

Puts. There you struck sure, sir.

Theod. Did I never tell thee of a vow he made, Some years before the old duke died?

Puts. I have heard you

Speak often of that vow; but how it was,
Or to what end, I never understood yet.

Theod. I'll tell thee then, and then thou wilt find the reason.

The last great muster, ('twas before you served here,)

Before the last duke's death, whose honour'd bones Now rest in peace, this young prince had the ordering

(To crown his father's hopes) of all the army:
Who, to be short, put all his power to practice,
Fashion'd and drew 'em up: But, alas, so poorly,
So raggedly and loosely, so unsoldier'd,

The good duke blush'd, and call'd unto my father,
Who then was general: "Go, Archas, speedily,
And chide the boy before the soldiers find him ;
Stand thou between his ignorance and them;
Fashion their bodies new to thy direction;
Then draw thou up, and shew the prince his

errors!"

My sire obey'd, and did so; with all duty
Inform'd the prince, and read him all directions:
This bred distaste, distaste grew up to anger,
And anger into wild words broke out thus:
"Well, Archas, if I live but to command here,
To be but duke once, I shall then remember.
I shall remember truly (trust me I shall),

And, by my father's hand"-the rest his eyes spoke.

[anger

To which my father answer'd, somewhat moved
And with a vow he seal'd it: "Royal sir, [too,
Since, for my faith and fights, your scorn and
Only pursue me; if I live to that day,
That day so long expected to reward me,
By his so-ever-noble hand you swore by,
And by the hand of justice, never arms more
Shall rib this body in, nor sword hang here, sir.
The conflicts I will do you service then in,
Shall be repentant prayers." So they parted.
The time is come; and now you know the wonder.
Puts. I find a fear too, which begins to tell me,
The duke will have but poor and slight defences,
If his hot humour reign, and not his honour.
How stand you with him, sir?
Theod. A perdue captain,

Full of my father's danger.

Puts. He has raised a young man,
They say a slight young man (I know him not)
For what desert?

Theod. Believe it, a brave gentleman,
Worthy the duke's respect, a clear sweet gentle-

I have seen a better face, and a straighter body; And yet she is a pretty gentlewoman.

Olym. What thinkest thou, Petesca?

Pet. Alas, madam, I have no skill; she has a black eye,

Which is of the least too, and the dullest water: And when her mouth was made, for certain, madam, Nature intended her a right good stomach.

Olym. She has a good hand.

Gent. 'Tis good enough to hold fast, And strong enough to strangle the neck of a lute Olym. What think you of her colour? Pet. If it be her own,

'Tis good black blood; right weather-proof, I warrant it.

Gent. What a strange pace she has got!
Olym. That's but her breeding.

Pet. And what a manly body! methinks she

looks

As though she'd pitch the bar, or go to buffets. Gent. Yet her behaviour's utterly against it, For methinks she is too bashful.

Olym. Is that hurtful?

Gent. Even equal to too bold: either of 'em, madam,

May do her injury when time shall serve her. Olym. You discourse learnedly. Call in the wench.[Exit Gentlewoman. What envious fools are you! Is the rule general, That women can speak handsomely of none, But those they are bred withal?

Pet. Scarce well of those, madam, If they believe they may outshine 'em any way: Our natures are like oil, compound us with any thing,

Yet still we strive to swim o' th' top. Suppose there were here now,

Now in this court of Moscow, a stranger-princess,
Of blood and beauty equal to your excellence,
As many eyes and services stuck on her;
What would ye think?

Olym. I would think she might deserve it.
Pet. Your grace shall give me leave not to
believe you!

I know you are a woman and so humour'd. I'll tell you, madam; I could then get more gowns on you,

More caps and feathers, more scarfs, and more silk

stockings,

With rocking you asleep with nightly railings
Upon that woman, than if I had nine lives

I could wear out. By this hand, you would scratch her eyes out.

Olym. Thou art deceived, fool. Now let your own eyes mock you.

Enter Gentlewoman and Young ARCHAS, disguised as a woman, bearing the name of ALINDA,

Come hither, girl.-Hang me, an she be not a handsome one!

Pet. I fear 'twill prove indeed so.

Olym. Did you e'er serve yet

In any place of worth?

Y. Arch. No, royal lady.

Pet. Hold up your head; fy!

Olym. Let her alone; stand from her.

Y. Arch. It shall be now,

Of all the blessings my poor youth has pray'd for The greatest and the happiest to serve you;

And, might my promise carry but that credit