[know

Ant. For, honour'd fathers, that you all may That I alone am not unmatchable In crimes of this condition, lest perhaps You might conceive, as yet the case appears, That this foul stain and guilt run in a blood; Before this presence, I accuse this lady Of as much vile ingratitude to me. Cas. Impudent traitor!

Phi. Her? Oh spare, Antinous; The world reputes thee valiant, do not soil All thy past nobleness with such a cowardice, As murd'ring innocent ladies will stamp on thee.

Ant. Brave prince, with what unwillingness I Her follies, and in those her sin, be witness, [force All these about me: She is bloody-minded, And turns the justice of the law to rigour : It is her cruelties, not I, accuse her:

Shall I have audience?

Ero. Let him speak, my lords.

Dec. Your memory will rot.

Ant. Cast all your eyes

On this, what shall I call her? truthless woman,
When often in my discontents, the sway
Of her unruly blood, her untam'd passion,
Or name it as you list, had hour by hour
Solicited my love, she vow'd at last

She could not, would not live, unless I granted
What she long sued for: I, in tender pity,
To save a lady of her birth from ruin,
Gave her her life, and promis'd to be hers:
Nor urg'd I aught from her, but secrecy,
And then enjoin'd her to supply such wants
As I perceiv'd my father's late engagements
Had made him subject to: what! shall I heap up
Long repetitions? She, to quit my pity,
Not only hath discover'd to my father
What she had promis'd to conceal, but also
Hath drawn my life into this fatal forfeit ;
For which, since I must die, I crave a like
Equality of justice against her;

Not that I covet blood, but that she may not
Practise this art of falsehood on some other,
Perhaps more worthy of her love hereafter.
Por. If this be true-

Ero. My lords, be as the law is,
Indifferent, upright, I do plead guilty:
Now, sir, what glory have you got by this?

Ը

'Las, man, I meant not to outlive thy doom, Shall we be friends in death?

Cas. Hear me, the villain Scandals her, honour'd lords.

Ero. Leave off to doat, And die a wise man.

Ant. I am over-reach'd,

And master'd in my own resolution.

Phi. Will ye be wilful, madam ? here's the curse Of love's disdain.

Cas. Why sit you like dumb statues ? Demur no longer.

Pos. Cassilane, Erota,

Antinous, death ye ask; and 'tis your dooms,
You in your follies liv'd, die in your follies.
Cas. I am reveng'd, and thank you for it.
Ero. Yes,

And I Antinous hath been gracious.
Ant. Sir,

May I presume to crave a blessing from you
Before we part?

Cas. Yes, such a one as parents

Bestow on cursed sons; now, now I laugh
To see how those poor younglings are both cheated
Of life and comfort: look ye, look ye, lords,
I go but some ten minutes, more or less,
Before my time, but they have finely cozen'd
Themselves of many, many hopeful years,
Amidst their prime of youth and glory; Now
My vengeance is made full.

Safe at their mothers' breasts, your very cloisters
Were not secure, your starting holes of refuge
Not free from danger, nor your lives your own:
In this most desperate ecstasy, my father,
This aged man, not only undertook
To guard your lives, but did so; and beat off
The daring foe; for you he pawn'd his lands,
To pay your soldiers, who, without their pay
Refus'd to strike a blow: but, lords, when peace
Was purchas'd for you, and victory brought home,
Where was your gratitude, who in your coffers
Hoarded the rusty treasure which was due
To my unminded father? he was glad
To live retir'd in want, in penury,
Whilst you made feasts of surfeit, and forgot
Your debts to him: the sum of all is this,
You have been unthankful to him; and I crave

The rigour of the law against you all.
Cas. My royal spirited daughter!

Ero. Lords, ere you part

Be witness to another change of wonder. Antinous, now be bold, before this presence, Freely to speak, whether or no I us'd

The humblest means affection could contrive, To gain thy love.

Ant. Madam, I must confess it, And ever an: your servant.

Ero. Yes, Antinous,

My servant, for my lord thou shalt be never:

1 here disclaim the interest thou hadst once

In my too passionate thoughts. To PHILANDER.] Most noble prince,

If yet a relic of thy wonted flames

Live warm within thy bosom, then I blush not

To offer up the assurance of my faith

To thee, that hast deserv'd it best.

Phi. Oh, madam,

You play with my calamity

Ero. Let heav'n

Record my truth for ever.

Phi. With more joy

Than I have words to utter, I accept it.

I also pawn you mine.

Ero. The man that in requital

Of noble and unsought affection

Grows cruel, never lov'd, nor did Antinous.

Yet herein, prince, ye are beholding to him;
For his neglect of me humbled a pride,
Which to a virtuous wife had been a monster.

Phi. For which I'll rank him my deserving friend. Ant. Much comfort dwell with you, as I could To him I honour most. [wish

Cas. Oh, my Antinous, My own, my own good son.

Fer. One suit I have to make.

Phi. To whom, Fernando?

Fer. Lord Cassilane, to you.
Cas. To me?

Fer. This lady

Hath promised to be mine.

Anno. Your blessing, sir; Brother, your love.

Ant. You cannot, sir, bestow her On a more noble gentleman.

Cas. Sayst thou so? Antinous, I confirm it.

Here, Fernando, Live both as one; she is thine.

Ant. And herein, sister,

I honour you for your wise settled love.
This is a day of triumph, all contentions
Are happily accorded, Candy's peace
Secur'd, and Venice vow'd a worthy friend.

[Exeunt.

Palace.

Enter ACHILLAS and ACHOREUS.

Achor. I love the king, nor do dispute his power, For that is not confined, nor to be censured By me, that am his subject; yet allow me The liberty of a man, that still would be A friend to justice, to demand the motives That did induce young Ptolemy, or Photinus, (To whose directions he gives up himself, And I hope wisely,) to commit his sister The princess Cleopatra-If I said

The queen, Achillas, 'twere, I hope, no treason, She being by her father's testament (Whose memory I bow to) left co-heir

In all he stood possess'd of.

Achil. 'Tis confess'd,

My good Achoreus, that in these eastern kingdoms
Women are not exempted from the sceptre,
But claim a privilege equal to the male;

But how much such divisions have ta'en from

Have sprung from those partitions, to the ruin
Of the poor subject, doubtful which to follow,
We have too many and too sad examples:
Therefore the wise Photinus, to prevent
The murders and the massacres that attend
On disunited government, and to shew
The king without a partner, in full splendour,
Thought it convenient the fair Cleopatra
(An attribute not frequent in this climate)
Should be committed to safe custody,
In which she is attended like her birth,
Until her beauty, or her royal dower,
Hath found her out a husband.

This government was deliver'd, or great Pompey,
That is appointed Cleopatra's guardian
As well as Ptolemy's, will e'er approve

Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought for,
That should authorise it?

Achil. The civil war,

In which the Roman empire is embark'd On a rough sea of danger, does exact

[them

Their whole care to preserve themselves, and gives
No vacant time to think of what we do,
Which hardly can concern them.

Achor. What's your opinion

Of the success? I have heard, in multitudes

Of soldiers, and all glorious pomp of war,
Pompey is much superior.

Achil. I could give you

A catalogue of all the several nations

From whence he drew his powers; but that were tedious.

They have rich arms, are ten to one in number,
Which makes them think the day already won;
And Pompey being master of the sea,

Such plenty of all delicates are brought in,
As if the place on which they are entrench'd,
Were not a camp of soldiers, but Rome,
In which Lucullus and Apicius join'd

To make a public feast. They at Dirachium
Fought with success; but knew not to make use of
Fortune's fair offer: So much, I have heard,
Cæsar himself confess'd.

Achor. Where are they now?

Achil. In Thessaly, near the Pharsalian plains;
Where Cæsar, with a handful of his men,
Hems in the greater number. His whole troops
Exceed not twenty thousand, but old soldiers,
Flesh'd in the spoils of Germany and France,
Inured to his command, and only know

To fight and overcome: And though that famine
Reigns in his camp, compelling them to taste
Bread made of roots forbid the use of man,
(Which they with scorn threw into Pompey's camp,
As in derision of his delicates,)

Or corn not yet half ripe, and that a banquet;
They still besiege him, being ambitious only

To come to blows, and let their swords determine

Who hath the better cause.

Achor. May victory

Attend on't, where it is.

Achil. We ev'ry hour

Expect to hear the issue.

Enter SEPTIMICS.

Sept. Save my good lords!

By Isis and Osiris, whom you worship,
And the four hundred gods and goddesses
Adored in Rome, I am your honours' servant.

Achor. Truth needs, Septimius, no oaths.
Achil. You are cruel;

If you deny him swearing, you take from him
Three full parts of his language.

Sept. Your honour's bitter.

Confound me, where I love I cannot say it,

But I must swear't: Yet such is my ill fortune,
Nor vows nor protestations win belief;

I think (and I can find no other reason)
Because I am a Roman.

Achor. No, Septimius;

To be a Roman were an honour to you,

Did not your manners and your life take from it, And cry aloud, that from Rome you bring nothing

But Roman vices, which you would plant here, But no seed of her virtues.

Sept. With your reverence,

I am too old to learn.

Achor. Any thing honest; That I believe without an oath.

Sept. I fear

Your lordship has slept ill to-night, and that Invites this sad discourse; 'twill make you old Before your time. Pox o' these virtuous morals. And old religious principles, that fool us!

I have brought you a new song will make you laugh, Though you were at your prayers.

Achor. What is the subject?

Be free, Septimius.

Sept. 'Tis a catalogue

Of all the gamesters of the court and city,
Which lord lies with that lady, and what gallant
Sports with that merchant's wife; and does relate
Who sells her honour for a diamond,

Who for a tissue robe; whose husband's jealous,
And who so kind, that, to share with his wife,
Will make the match himself: Harmless conceits,
Though fools say they are dangerous. I sang it
The last night at my lord Photinus' table.
Achor. How? as a fiddler?

Sept. No, sir, as a guest,

A welcome guest too; and it was approved of By a dozen of his friends, though they were touch'd in't:

For look you, 'tis a kind of merriment,
When we have laid by foolish modesty,
(As not a man of fashion will wear it)

To talk what we have done, at least to hear it:
If merrily set down, it fires the blood,
And heightens crest-fallen appetite.
Achor. New doctrine!

Achil. Was't of your own composing
Sept. No, I bought it

Of a skulking scribbler for two Ptolemies;
But the hints were mine own: The wretch was
fearful;

But I have damn'd myself, should it be question'd, That I will own it.

Achor. And be punish'd for it?

Take heed, for you may so long exercise
Your scurrilous wit against authority,

The kingdom's counsels, and make profane jests (Which to you, being an atheist, is nothing)

Against religion, that your great maintainers, Unless they would be thought copartners with you, Will leave you to the law; and then, Septimius, Remember there are whips.

Sept. For whores, I grant you,

When they are out of date; 'till then, they are

safe too,