Part 2

_Tut._ These are, Sir, the four new Virtues That are in fashion: many a mile we measur'd Before we could arrive to this knowledge.

_Nea._ You might [h]ave spar'd that labour, for at home here There's little else in practice: Ha? the Queen? Good friends, for half an hour remove your motion, To morrow willingly when we have more leasure We'll look on him again.

_Onos._ Did I not rarely?

_Unc._ Excellent well.

_Tut._ He shall have six Plumbs for it. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Agenor, Leonidas, Theanor, Queen, Merione, Beliza, Euphanes, Crates, Ladies, Attendants _with Lights_.

_Qu._ How much my Court is honour'd Princely Brother In your vouchsafing it your long'd-for presence Were tedious to repeat, since 'tis already (And heartily) acknowledg'd; may the gods That look into Kings actions, smile upon The league we have concluded; and their justice Find me out to revenge it, if I break One Article.

_Age._ Great miracle of Queens, How happy I esteem myself in being Thought worthy to be numbred in the rank Of your confederates, my love and best service Shall teach the world hereafter: but this gift With which you have confirm'd it, is so far Beyond my hopes and means e'r to return, That of necessity I must dye oblig'd To your unanswer'd bounty.

_The._ The sweet Lady In blushes gives your Highness thanks.

_Qu._ Believe it On the Queens word, she is a worthy one, And I am so acquainted with her goodness, That but for this peace that hath chang'd my purpose, And to her more advancement, I should gladly Have call'd her Daughter.

_The._ Though I am depriv'd of A blessing, 'tis not in the Fates to equal, To shew my self a Subject as a Son, Here I give up my claim, and willingly With mine own hand deliver you what once I lov'd above my self; and from this hour (For my affection yields now to my duty) Vow never to sollicite her.

_Cra._ 'Tis well cover'd; _Neanthes,_ and the rest. [_Exeunt_ Cra. Nea. Sos. Era.

_Qu._ Nay, for this night You must (for 'tis our Countrey fashion, Sir) Leave her to her Devotions, in the morning We'll bring you to the Temple.

_Leo._ How in this Your Highness honours me?

_Mer._ Sweet rest to all.

_Age._ This kiss, and I obey you.

_Bel._ Please it your Highness, This is the Gentleman.

_Qu._ You are welcome home, Sir, (Now as I live, one of a promising presence) I have heard of you before, and you shall find I'll know you better: find out something that May do you good, and rest assur'd to have it. Were you at _Sparta_ lately?

_Euph._ Three daies since Madam, I came from thence.

_Qu._ 'Tis very late, Good night my Lord, do you Sir follow me, I must talk further with you.

_Ag._ All rest with you. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Crates, Neanthes, Eraton, Sosicles _disguis'd_.

_Cra._ She must pass through this Cloyster, suddainly And boldly seize upon her.

_Nea._ Where's the Prince?

_Cra._ He does expect us at the place I shew'd you.

_Enter_ Merione _and_ Servant.

I hear ones footing, peace, 'tis she;

_Mer._ Now leave me, I know the way, though _Vesta_ witness with me I never trode it with such fear: help, help.

_Cra._ Stop her mouth close, out with the Light, I'll guide you.

[_Exeunt._

_Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Merione (_as newly ravished_.)

_Mer._ To whom now shall I cry? What pow'r thus kneel to? And beg my ravisht honor back upon me? Deaf, deaf, you gods of goodness, deaf to me, Deaf Heaven to all my cries; deaf hope, deaf justice, I am abus'd, and you, that see all, saw it; Saw it, and smil'd upon the villain did it: Saw it, and gave him strength: why have I pray'd to ye, When all the worlds eyes have been sunk in slumbers? Why have I then powr'd out my tears? kneel'd to ye, And from the Altar of a pure heart sent ye Thoughts like your selves, white, innocent, vows purer And of a sweeter flame than all the earths odours? Why have I sung your praises, strew'd your Temples, And crown'd your Holy Priests with Virgin Roses? Is it we hold ye powerful, to destroy us? Believe, and honor ye, to see us ruin'd? These tears of anger thus I sprinkle toward ye, You that dare sleep secure whilst Virgins suffer, These stick like Comets, blaze eternally, Till, with the wonder, they have wak'd your justice, And forc't ye fear our curses, as we yours.

_Enter_ Theanor, Crates, _with vizards_.

My shame still follows me, and still proclaims me; He turns away in scorn, I am contemned too, A more unmanly violence than the other; Bitten, and flung away? What e'r you are Sir, you that have abus'd me, and now most basely And sacrilegiously robb'd this fair Temple, I fling all these behind me, but look upon me, But one kind loving look, be what ye will, So from this hour you will be mine, my Husband; And you his hand in mischief, I speak to you too, Counsel him nobly now; you know the mischief, The most unrighteous act he has done, perswade him, Perswade him like a friend, knock at his Conscience Till fair Repentance follow: yet be worthy of me, And shew your self, if ever good thought guided ye; You have had your foul will; make it yet fair with marriage; Open your self and take me, wed me now: [_Draws his Dagger._ More fruits of villany? your Dagger? come Ye are merciful, I thank you for your medicine: Is that too worthy too?

_Enter the rest disguis'd._

Devil, thou with him, Thou penny Bawd to his Lust, will not that stir thee? Do you work by tokens now? Be sure I live not, For your own safeties knaves. I will sit patiently: But as ye are true villains, the Devils own servants, And those he loves and trusts, make it as bloody An Act, of such true horror, Heaven would shake at, 'Twill shew the braver: goodness hold my hope fast, And in thy mercies look upon my ruines, And then I am right: my eyes grow dead and heavy:

_Enter six disguis'd, singing and dancing to a_ _horrid Musick, and sprinkling water on her face._

Wrong me no more as ye are men.

_The._ She is fast.

_Cra._ Away with her. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Agenor, _and Gentlemen_.

_Age._ Now Gentlemen, the time's come now t' enjoy That fruitful happiness my heart has long'd for: This day be happy call'd, and when old Time Brings it about each year, crown'd with that sweetness It gives me now, see every man observe it, And laying all aside bears shew of business, Give this to joy and triumph: How fits my cloaths?

_1 Gent._ Handsome, and wondrous well, Sir.

_Ag._ Do they shew richly? For to those curious eyes even beauty envies, I must not now appear poor, or low fashion'd; Methinks I am younger than I was, far younger; And such a promise in my bloud I feel now, That if there may be a perpetual youth Bestowed on man, I am that soul shall win it: Does my hair stand well, Lord how ill-favourdly You have drest me to day! how baldly! why this Cloak?

_2 Gen._ Why 'tis the richest, Sir.

_Age._ And here ye have put me on A pair of Breeches look like a pair of Bagpipes.

_1 Gen._ Believe Sir, they shew bravely.

_Ag._ Why these Stockins?

_2 Gen._ Your Leg appears--

_Ag._ Peuh, I would have had 'em Peach-colour, All young, and new about me: and this Scarf here A goodly thing: you have trickt me like a Puppet.

_1 Gen._ I'll undertake to rig forth a whole Navy, And with less labor than one man in love. They are never pleas'd.

_2 Gen._ Methinks he looks well.

_1 Gen._ Well: As man can look, as handsome: now do I wonder He found not fault his Nose was put on ugly, Or his Eyes lookt too gray, and rail at us, They are the waywards things, these Lovers.

_2 Gent._ All will be right. When once it comes to th' push.

_1 Gent._ I would they were at it For our own quiet sake.

_Ag._ Come, wait upon me, And bear your selves like mine, my friends, and nobly. [_Ex._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Theanor, Crates, _and_ Erat[on], _bringing_ Merione.

_Erat._ This is her Brothers door.

_Cra._ There lay her down then. Lay her along: she is fast still.

[_Era_]. As forgetfulness.

_Cra._ Be not you stirr'd now, but away to your Mother, Give all attendance, let no stain appear Of fear, or doubt in your face: carry your self confidently.

_The._ But whither runs your drift now?

_Cra._ When she wakes, Either what's done will shew a meer dream to her, And carry no more credit: or say she find it, Say she remember all the circumstances, Twenty to one the shapes in which they were acted, The horrors, and the still affrights we shew'd her, Rising in wilder figures to her memory Will run her mad, and no man guess the reason: If all these fail, and that she rise up perfect, And so collect her self, believe this, Sir, Not knowing who it was that did this to her, Nor having any power to ghess; the thing done too Being the utter undoing of her honor If it be known, and to the worlds eye publish'd, Especially at this time when Fortune courts her, She must and will conceal it; nay, forget it, The woman is no _Lucrece_; get you gone Sir, And as you would have more of this sport, fear not.

_The._ I am confirm'd, farewel.

_Cra._ Farewel, away Sir: Disperse your selves, and as you love his favour, And that that crowns it, Gold, no tongues amongst ye. You know your charge, this way goes no suspicion. [_Ex._

_Enter_ Agenor, _and_ Leonid[a]s, _with two Gent._

_Ag._ You are stirring early, Sir.

_Leo._ It was my duty To wait upon your Grace.

_Ag._ How fares your Sister, My beauteous Mistriss, what is she ready yet?

_Leo._ No doubt she'll lose no time Sir, young Maids in her way Tread upon thorns, and think an hour an age Till the Priest has done his part, that theirs may follow: I saw her not since yesterday i'th' evening: But Sir, I am sure she is not slack; believe me, Your grace will find a loving soul.

_Ag._ A sweet one, And so much joy I carry in the thought of it, So great a happiness to know she is mine; Believe me noble Brother, that to express it Methinks a Tongue's a poor thing: can do nothing, Imagination less: who's that that lies there?

_Leo._ Where Sir?

_Ag._ Before the door, it looks like a woman.

_Leo._ This way I came abroad, but then there was nothing, One of the Maids o'rwatch'd belike:

_Ag._ It may be.

_Leo._ But methinks this is no fit place to sleep in.

_1 Gent._ 'Tis sure a woman Sir, she has jewels on too: She fears no foul play sure.

_Leo._ Bring a Torch hither, Yet ['tis] not perfect day: I should know those Garments.

_Ag._ How sound she sleeps!

_Leo._ I am sorry to see this.

_Ag._ Do you know her?

_Leo._ And you now I am sure Sir.

_Ag._ My Mistriss, how comes this?

_Enter_ Queen, Theanor, Beliza, Euphanes, Neanthes, _Attendants_.

_Leo._ The Queen and her train?

_Qu._ You know my pleasure.

_Euph._ And will be most careful.

_Qu._ Be not long absent, the suit you preferr'd Is granted.

_Nea._ This fellow mounts apace, and will Towre o'r us like a Falcon.

_Qu._ Good morrow to ye all, why stand ye wondring? Enter the house Sir, and bring out your Mistriss, You must observe our Ceremonies: what's the matter? What's that ye stand at? How _Merione_? Asleep i'th' street? belike some sudden Palsie As she stept out last night upon devotion, To take her farewel of her Virgin state, The air being sharp and piercing, struck her suddenly: See if she breath.

_Leo._ A little.

_Qu._ Wake her then, 'Tis sure a fit.

_Ag._ She wakes her self, Give room to her.

_Qu._ See how the spirits struggle to recover, And strongly reinforce their strength; for certain This was no natural sleep.

_The._ I am of your mind, Madam.

_Qu._ No Son, it cannot be.

_The._ Pray Heaven no trick in't; Good Soul she little merits such a mischief.

_Qu._ She is broad awake now, and her sence cleers up, 'Twas sure a fit; stand off.

_Mer._ The Queen, my Love here, And all my noble friends? Why where am I? How am I tranc'd, and moap'd? I' th' street? Heaven bless me, Shame to my Sex; o'th' ground too? O I remember--

_Leo._ How wild she looks?

_Ag._ Oh my cold heart, how she trembles!

_Mer._ Oh I remember, I remember.

_Qu._ What's that?

_Mer._ My shame, my shame, my shame: Oh I remember My never-dying shame.

_The._ Here has been villanie.

_Qu._ I fear so too.

_Mer._ You are no Furies are ye? No horrid shapes sent to affright me?

_Ag._ No sweet, We are your friends: look up, I am _Agenor_, O my _Merione_, that loves you dearly: And come to marry ye.

_Leo._ Sister, what ail ye? Speak out your griefs, and boldly--

_Ag._ Something sticks here Will choak ye else.

_Mer._ I hope it will.

_Qu._ Be free Lady, You have your loving friends about ye.

_A[g]._ Dear _Merione_, By the unspotted love I ever bore ye, By thine own goodness--

_Mer._ Oh 'tis gone, 'tis gone Sir, I am now I know not what: pray ye look not on me, No name is left me, nothing to inherit But that detested, base, and branded--

_Ag._ Speak it, And how; diseases of most danger Their causes once discover'd are easily cur'd: My fair _Merione_.

_Mer._ I thank your love Sir; When I was fair _Merione_, unspotted, Pure, and unblasted in the bud you honour'd, White as the heart of truth, then Prince _Agenor_, Even then I was not worthy of your favour; Wretch that I am, less worthy now of pitty: Let no good thing come near me, virtue flie me; You that have honest noble names despise me, For I am nothing now but a main pestilence Able to poison all. Send those unto me That have forgot their names, ruin'd their fortunes, Despis'd their honours; those that have been Virgins Ravish'd and wrong'd, and yet dare live to tell it.

_The._ Now it appears too plain.

_Mer._ Send those sad people That hate the light, and curse society; Whose thoughts are Graves, and from whose eyes continually Their melting souls drop out, send those to me; And when their sorrows are most excellent, So full that one grief more cannot be added, My Story like a torrent shall devour 'em. Hark, it must out; but pray stand close together, And let not all the world hear.

_Leo._ Speak it boldly.

_Mer._ And Royal Lady, think but charitably, Your Grace has known my breeding.

_Qu._ Prethee speak it.

_Mer._ Is there no stranger here? send off your servants, And yet it must be known: I shake.

_Ag._ Sweet Mistriss.

_Mer._ I am abus'd, basely abus'd; do you ghess yet? Come close, I'll tell ye plainer; I am whor'd, Ravish'd, and robb'd of Honour.

_Leo._ Oh the Devil.

_Ag._ What hellish Slave was this?

_The._ A wretch, a wretch, A damned wretch: do you know the Villain, Lady?

_Mer._ No.

_The._ Not by ghess?

_Mer._ Oh no.

_The._ It must be known.

_Qu._ Where was the place?

_Mer._ I know not neither.

_Ag._ O Heaven, Is this the happy time? my hope to this come?

_Leo._ Neither the man nor circumstances?

_The._ His tongue, Did you not hear his tongue, no voice?

_Mer._ None, none Sir: All I know of him was his violence.

_Ag._ How came ye hither, Sweet?

_Mer._ I know not neither.

_The._ A cunning piece of villany.

_Mer._ All I remember Is only this: Going to _Vestas_ Temple To give the goddess my last Virgin prayers, Near to that place I was suddainly surpriz'd, By five or six disguis'd, and from thence violently To my dishonour hal'd: that Act perform'd, Brought back, but how, or whether, till I wak'd here.--

_The._ This is so monstrous, the gods cannot suffer it; I have not read in all the villanies Committed by the most obdurate Rascals, An act so truly impious.

_Leo._ Would I knew him.

_The._ He must be known, the Devil cannot hide him.

_Qu._ If all the Art I have, or power can do it, He shall be found, and such a way of justice Inflicted on him: A Lady wrong'd in my Court, And this way rob'd, and ruin'd?

_The._ Be contented Madam, If he be above ground I will have him.

_Ag._ Fair virtuous Maid, take comfort yet and flourish, In my love flourish: the stain was forc'd upon ye None of your wills, nor yours; rise, and rise mine still, And rise the same white, sweet, fair soul, I lov'd ye, Take me the same.

_Mer._ I kneel and thank ye, Sir, And I must say ye are truly honourable: And dare confess my Will, yet still a Virgin; But so unfit and weak a Cabinet To keep your love and virtue in am I now, That have been forc'd and broken, lost my lustre, I mean this body, so corrupt a Volume For you to study goodness in, and honor, I shall intreat your Grace, confer that happiness Upon a beauty sorrow never saw yet: And when this grief shall kill me, as it must do, Only remember yet ye had such a Mistriss; And if ye then dare shed a tear, yet honour me: Good Gentlemen, express your pities to me, In seeking out this villany; and my last suit Is to your Grace, that I may have your favour To live a poor recluse Nun with this Lady, From Court and company, till Heaven shall hear me, And send me comfort, or death end my misery.

_Qu._ Take your own Will, my very heart bleeds for thee.

_Ag._ Farwell _Merione_, since I have not thee, I'll wed thy goodness, and thy memory.

_Leo._ And I her fair revenge.

_The._ Away: let's follow it, For he is so rank i'th' wind we cannot miss him. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Quarta._

_Enter_ Crates _and_ Conon.

_Cra. Conon_, you are welcome home, ye are wondrous welcome, Is this your first arrival?

_Co._ Sir, but now I reacht the Town.

_Cra._ Y'are once more welcome then.

_Co._ I thank ye, noble Sir.

_Cra._ Pray ye do me the honor To make my poor house first--

_Con._ Pray Sir excuse me, I have not seen mine own yet; nor made happy These longing eyes with those I love there: what's this a Tavern?

_Cra._ It seems so by the outside.

_Co._ Step in here then, And since it offers it self so freely to us, A place made only for liberal entertainment, Let's seek no further, but make use of this, And after the _Greek_ fashion, to our friends Crown a round cup or two.

_Enter_ Vintner _and_ Drawer.

_Cra._ Your pleasure, Sir. Drawers, who waits within?

_Draw._ Anon, anon Sir.

_Vint._ Look into the _Lilly-pot_: why _Mark_ there; You are welcome Gentlemen; heartily welcome My noble friend.

_Cra._ Let's have good Wine mine Host, And a fine private room.

_Vint._ Will ye be there Sir? What is't you'll drink? I'll draw your Wine my self: Quissions ye knaves: why when?

_Enter_ Drawer.

_Draw._ Anon, anon Sir.

_Vint. Chios_, or _Lebos_, _Greek_?

_Cra._ Your best and neatest.

_Vint._ I'll draw ye that shall dance.

_Cra._ Away, be quick then. [_Exit Vintner._

_Con._ How does your Brother, Sir, my noble friend The good _Euphanes_? in all my course of travel I met not with a Gentleman so furnish'd In gentleness and courtesie; believe Sir, So many friendly Offices I receiv'd from him, So great, and timely, and enjoy'd his company In such an open and a liberal sweetness, That when I dare forget him--

_Cra._ He's in good health, Sir, But you will find him a much alter'd man, Grown a great Courtier, Sir.

_Co._ He's worthy of it.

_Cra._ A man drawn up, that leaves no print behind him Of what he was: those goodnesses you speak of That have been in him, those that you call freedoms, Societies, and sweetness, look for now, Sir, You'll find no shadows of them left, no sound, The very Air he has liv'd in alter'd: now behold him, And you shall see a thing walk by, look big upon ye, And cry for place; I am the Queens, give room there: If you bow low, may be he'll touch the Bonnet, Or fling a forced smile at ye for a favour.

_Co._ He is your brother, Sir.

_Cra._ These forms put off, Which travel, and Court Holy-water sprinkle on him, I dare accept, and know him: you'll think it strange, Sir, That even to me, to me his natural Brother, And one by birth he owes a little honor too--

_Enter_ Vintner _with Wine_.

(But that's all one) come, give me some Wine, mine Host, Here's to your fair return.

_Con._ I wonder at it, But sure he has found a nature not worth owning In this way; else I know he is tender carried. I thank ye, Sir: and now durst I presume For all you tell me of these alterations, And stops in his sweet nature, which till I find so, I have known him now so long, and look'd so through him, You must give me leave to be a little faithless: I say for all these, if you please to venture I'll lay the Wine we drink, let me send for him (Even I that am the poorest of his fellowship) But by a Boy oth' house too, let him have business, Let him attend the Queen, nay let his Mistriss Hold him betwixt her arms, he shall come to me, And shall drink with me too, love me, and heartily, Like a true honest man bid me welcome home. I am confident.

_Cra._ You will loose.

_Con._ You'l stand to th' wager?

_Cra._ With all my heart.

_Con._ Go Boy, and tell _Euphanes_.

_Boy._ He's now gone up the street Sir, With a great train of Gallants.

_Cra._ What think you now Sir?

_Con._ Go, and overtake him, Commend my love unto him: my name is _Conon_, Tell him I am new arriv'd, and where I am, And would request to see him presently: Ye see I use old dudgen phrase to draw him.

_Cra._ I'll hang and quarter when you draw him hither.

_Con._ Away Boy.

_Boy._ I am gone Sir. [_Exit._

_Con._ Here's to you now, And you shall find his travel has not stopt him As you suppose, nor alter'd any freedome, But made him far more clear and excellent; It draws the grossness off the understanding, And renders active and industrious spirits: He that knows most mens manners, must of necessity Best know his own, and mend those by example: 'Tis a dull thing to travell like a Mill-horse, Still in the place he was born in, lam'd and blinded; Living at home is like it: pure and strong spirits That like the fire still covet to fly upward, And to give fire as well as take it; cas'd up, and mewd here I mean at home, like lusty metled Horses, Only ty'd up in Stables, to please their Masters, Beat out their fiery lives in their own Litters, Why do not you travel Sir?

_Cra._ I have no belief in't. I see so many strange things, half unhatcht, to Return, those that went out men, and good men, They look like potch'd Eggs with the souls suckt out Empty and full of wind: all their affections Are bak'd in Rye crust, to hold carriage From this good Town to th' other: and when they are open'd, They are so ill cooked and mouldy--

_Con._ Ye are pleasant.

_Cra._ I'll shew ye a pack of these: I have 'em for ye, That have been long in travel too.

_Con._ Please you Sir.

_Cra._ You know the Merchants walk, Boy?

_2 Boy._ Very well.

_Cra._ And you remember those Gentlemen were here The other day with me?

_2 Boy._ Yes.

_Cra._ Then go thither, For there I am sure they are, pray 'em come hither, (And use my name) I would be glad to see 'em.