Part 5

_Chi._ I'll no more Oracles, nor Miracles, Nor no more Church work, I'll be drawn and hang'd first. Am not I torn a pieces with the thunder? Death, I can scarce believe I live yet, It gave me on the buttocks, a cruel, a huge bang, I had as lieve ha' had 'em scratcht with Dog-whips: Be quiet henceforth, now ye feel the end on't, I would advise ye my old friends, the good Gentlewoman Is strucken dumb, and there her Grace sits mumping Like an old Ape eating a Brawn; sure the good Goddess Knew my intent was honest, to save the Princess, And how we young men are entic'd to wickedness, By these lewd Women, I had paid for't else too. I am monstrous holy now, and cruel fearful, O 'twas a plaguey thump, charg'd with a vengeance.

_Enter_ Siphax, _walks softly over the stage, and goes in_.

Would I were well at home; the best is, 'tis not day: Who's that? ha? _Siphax!_ I'll be with you anon, Sir; Ye shall be oracled I warrant ye, And thunder'd too, as well as I; your Lordship

_Enter_ Memnon, Eumenes, Stremon, _and two carrying Torches_.

Must needs enjoy the Princess, yes: ha! Torches? And _Memnon_ coming this way? he's Dog-mad, And ten to one appearing thus unto him, He worries me, I must go by him.

_Eum._ Sir?

_Mem._ Ask me no further questions; what art thou? How dost thou stare! stand off; nay look upon me, I do not shake, nor fear thee-- [_Draws his Sword._

_Chi._ He will kill me, This is for Church work.

_Mem._ Why dost thou appear now? Thou wert fairly slain: I know thee, _Diocles_, And know thine envy to mine honour: but--

_Chi._ Stay _Memnon_, I am a Spirit, and thou canst not hurt me.

_Eum._ This is the voice of _Chilax_.

_Strem._ What makes him thus?

_Chi._ 'Tis true, that I was slain in field, but foully, By multitudes, not manhood: therefore mark me, I do appear again to quit mine honour, And on thee single.

_Mem._ I accept the challenge. Where?

_Chi._ On the Stygian Banks.

_Mem._ When?

_Chi._ Four days hence.

_Mem._ Go noble Ghost, I will attend.

_Chi._ I thank ye.

_Stre._ Ye have sav'd your throat, and handsomly: Farewel, Sir. [_Exit_ Chilax.

_Mem._ Sing me the Battles of _Pelusium_, In which this Worthy dyed.

_Eum._ This will spoil all, and make him worse Than e'r he was: sit down, Sir, And give your self to rest.

SONG.

_Arm, arm, arm, arm, the Scouts are all come in,_ _Keep your Ranks close, and now your honours win._ _Behold from yonder Hill, the Foe appears,_ _Bows, Bills, Glaves, Arrows, Shields, and Spears,_ _Like a dark Wood he comes, or tempest pouring;_ _O view the Wings of Horse the Meadows scowring,_ _The vant-guard marches bravely, hark, the Drums_--dub, dub. _They meet, they meet, and now the Battel comes:_ _See how the Arrows fly,_ _That darken all the Skye;_ _Hark how the Trumpets sound,_ _Hark how the Hills rebound._--Tara, tara, tara. _Hark how the Horses charge: in Boys, Boys in_--tara, tara. _The Battel totters; now the wounds begin;_ _O how they cry,_ _O how they dy!_ _Room for the valiant _Memnon_ arm'd with thunder,_ _See how he breaks the Ranks asunder:_ _They flye, they flye, _Eumenes_ has the Chace,_ _And brave _Polybius_ makes good his place._ _To the Plains, to the Woods,_ _To the Rocks, to the Floods,_ _They flie for succour: Follow, follow, follow,_ Hey, hey. _Hark how the Souldiers hollow _Brave _Diocles_ is dead,_ _And all his Souldiers fled,_ _The Battel's won, and lost,_ _That many a life hath cost._

_Mem._ Now forward to the Temple. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Chilax.

_Chi._ Are ye gone? How have I 'scap'd this morning! by what miracle! Sure I am ordain'd for some brave end.

_Enter_ Cloe.

_Clo._ How is it?

_Chi._ Come, 'tis as well as can be.

_Clo._ But is it possible This should be true you tell me?

_Chi._ 'Tis most certain.

_Clo._ Such a gross Ass to love the Princess?

_Chi._ Peace, Pull your Robe close about ye: you are perfect In all I taught ye?

_Cl[o]._ Sure.

_Chi._ Gods give thee good luck. 'Tis strange my Brains should still be beating Knavery For all these dangers, but they are needful mischiefs, And such are Nuts to me; and I must do 'em. You will remember me--

_Clo._ By this kiss, _Chilax_.

_Chi._ No more of that, I fear another thunder.

_Clo._ We are not i'th' Temple, man.

_Enter_ Siphax.

_Chi._ Peace, here he comes, Now to our business handsomly; away now. [_Ex._ Chilax, _and_ Cloe.

_Si._ 'Twas sure the Princess, for he kneel'd unto her, And she lookt every way: I hope the Oracle Has made me happy; me I hope she lookt for,

_Enter_ Chilax, _and_ Cloe _at the other door_.

Fortune, I will so honour thee, Love, so adore thee. She is here again, looks round about her, again too, 'Tis done, I know 'tis done; 'tis _Chilax_ with her, And I shall know of him; who's that?

_Chi._ Speak softly, The Princess from the Oracle.

_Si._ She views me, By Heaven she beckons me.

_Chi._ Come near, she wou'd have ye.

_Si._ O royal Lady. [_Kisses her hand._

_Chi._ She wills ye read that, for belike she's bound to silence For such a time; she is wondrous gracious to ye.

_Si._ Heav'n make me thankful.

_Chi._ She would have ye read it. [_He reads._

_Si._ _Siphax_, the will of Heaven hath cast me on thee To be thy Wife, whose Will must be obey'd: Use me with honour, I shall love thee dearly, And make thee understand thy worths hereafter; Convey me to a secret Ceremony, That both our hearts and loves may be united, And use no Language, till before my Brother We both appear, where I will shew the Oracle, For till that time I am bound, I must not answer.

_Si._ O happy I!

_Chi._ Ye are a made man.

_Si._ But _Chilax_, Where are her Women?

_Chi._ None but your Graces Sister, Because she would have it private to the World yet, Knows of this business.

_Si._ I shall thank thee, _Chilax_, Thou art a careful man.

_Chi._ Your Graces Servant.

_Si._ I'll find a fit place for thee.

_Chi._ If you will not, There's a good Lady will, she points ye forward, Away and take your fortune; not a word, Sir: So, you are greas'd I hope. [_Ex._ Si. _and_ Cloe, _manet_ Chilax.

_Enter_ Stremon, _Fool, and Boy_.

_Chi._ _Stremon_, Fool, _Picus_, Where have you left your Lord?

_Strem._ I' th' Temple, _Chilax_.

_Chi._ Why are ye from him?

_Strem._ Why, the King is with him, And all the Lords.

_Chi._ Is not the Princess there too?

_Strem._ Yes. And the strangest Coil amongst 'em; She weeps bitterly: The King entreats, and frowns, my Lord like Autumn Drops off his hopes by handfulls, all the Temple Sweats with this Agony.

_Chi._ Where's young _Polydore_?

_Strem._ Dead, as they said, o' th' sudden.

_Chi._ Dead?

_Strem._ For certain, But not yet known abroad.

_Chi._ There's a new trouble, A brave young man he was; but we must all dye.

_Strem._ Did not the General meet you this morning Like a tall Stallion Nun?

_Chi._ No more o' that, Boy.

_Strem._ You had been ferretting.

_Chi._ That's all one, Fool; My Master Fool that taught my wits to traffick, What has your Wisedom done? how have you profited? Out with your Audit: come, you are not empty, Put out mine eye with twelve-pence? do you shaker? What think you of this shaking? here's wit, Coxcomb, Ha Boys? ha my fine Rascals, here's a Ring, { _Pulls out How right they go! { a Purse._

_Fool._ O let me ring the fore Bell.

[_Chi._] And here are thumpers, Chiqueens, golden rogues, Wit, wit, ye Rascals.

_Fool._ I have a Stye here, _Chilax_.

_Chi._ I have no Gold to cure it, not a penny, Not one cross, Cavalier; we are dull Souldiers, Gross heavy-headed fellows; fight for Victuals?

_Fool._ Why, ye are the Spirits of the time.

_Chi._ By no means.

_Fool._ The valiant firie.

_Chi._ Fie, fie, no.

_Fool._ Be-lee me, Sir.

_Chi._ I wou'd I cou'd, Sir.

_Fool._ I will satisfie ye.

_Chi._ But I will not content you; alas poor Boy, Thou shew'st an honest Nature, weepst for thy Master, There's a red Rogue to buy thee Handkerchiefs.

_Fool._ He was an honest Gentleman, I have lost too.

_Chi._ You have indeed your labour, Fool; but _Stremon_, Dost thou want money too? no Vertue living? No firking out at fingers ends?

_Strem._ It seems so.

_Chi._ Will ye all serve me?

_Strem._ Yes, when ye are Lord General, For less I will not go.

_Chi._ There's Gold for thee then, Thou hast a Souldiers mind. Fool--

_Fool._ Here, your first man.

_Chi._ I will give thee for thy Wit, for 'tis a fine wit, A dainty diving Wit, hold up, just nothing, Go graze i' th' Commons, yet I am merciful-- There's six-pence: buy a Saucer, steal an old Gown, And beg i' th' Temple for a Prophet, come away Boys, Let's see how things are carried, Fool, up Sirrah, You may chance get a dinner: Boy, your preferment I'll undertake, for your brave Masters sake, You shall not perish.

_Fool._ _Chilax._

_Chi._ Please me well, Fool. And you shall light my pipes: away to the Temple. But stay, the King's here, sport upon sport, Boys.

_Enter King, Lords_, Siphax _kneeling_, Cloe _with a Vail_.

_King._ What would you have, Captain? Speak suddenly, for I am wondrous busie.

_Si._ A pardon, Royal Sir.

_King._ For what?

_Si._ For that Which was Heaven's Will, should not be mine alone, Sir; My marrying with this Lady.

_King._ It needs no pardon, For Marriage is no Sin.

_Si._ Not in it self, 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?

_Si._ O be not angry my dread King, your Sister.

_King._ My Sister; she's i' th' Temple, Man.

_Si._ 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 unvail'd, Lady. [_Puts off her Vail._ Will ye have more forgiveness? the man's frantick, Come let's go bring her out: God give ye joy, Sir.

_Si._ How, _Cloe_? my old _Cloe_? [_Ex. King, Lords._

_Clo._ Even the same, Sir.

_Chi._ Gods give your manhood much content.

_Strem._ The Princess Looks something musty since her coming over.

_Fool._ 'Twere good you'd brush her over.

_Si._ Fools and Fidlers Make sport at my abuse too?

_Fool._ O 'tis the Nature Of us Fools to make bold with one another, But you are wise, brave sirs.

_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.

_Strem._ And who, most mighty _Siphax_?

_Siph._ With mine own whore.

_Cloe._ With whom else should ye marry, speak your conscience, Will ye transgress the law of Arms, that ever Rewards the Souldier with his own sins?

_Siph._ Devils.

_Cloe._ Ye had my maiden-head, my youth, my sweetness, Is it not justice then?--

_Siph._ I see it must be, But by this hand, I'le hang a lock upon thee.

_Cloe._ You shall not need, my honesty shall doe it.

_Siph._ If there be wars in all the world--

_Cloe._ I'le with ye, For you know I have been a Souldier, Come, curse on: when I need another Oracle.

_Chi._ Send for me _Siphax_, I'le fit ye with a Princess, And so to both your honours.

_Fool._ And your graces.

_Siph._ The Devil grace ye all.

_Cloe._ God a mercy _Chilax_.

_Chi._ Shall we laugh half an hour now?

_Strem._ No the King comes, And all the train.

_Chi._ Away then, our Act's ended. [_Exeunt._

_Enter King_, Calis, Memnon, _and_ Cleanthe, _Lords_.

_King._ You know he do's deserve ye, loves ye dearly, You know what bloody violence had us'd { _The Hearse Upon himself, but that his Brother crost it, { ready, Polydor, You know the same thoughts still inhabit in him { Eumenes & And covet to take birth: Look on him Lady, { Captains._ The wars have not so far consum'd him yet, Cold age disabled him, or sickness sunk him To be abhorr'd: look on his Honour Sister, That bears no stamp of time, no wrinkles on it, No sad demolishment, nor death can reach it: Look with the eyes of Heaven that nightly waken, To view the wonders of the glorious Maker, And not the weakness: look with your vertuous eyes, And then clad royaltie in all his conquests, His matchless love hung with a thousand merits, Eternal youth attending, Fame and Fortune, Time and Oblivion vexing at his vertues, He shall appear a miracle: look on our dangers, Look on the publick ruin.

_Calis._ O, dear Brother.

_King._ Fie, let us not like proud and greedy waters Gain to give off again: this is our Sea, And you his _Cynthia_, govern him, take heed, His flouds have been as high, and full as any, And gloriously now is got up to the girdle, The Kingdomes he hath purchas'd; noble Sister, Take not your vertue from him, O take heed We ebbe not now to nothing, take heed _Calis_.

_Calis._ The will of Heaven not mine, which must not alter, And my eternal doom for ought I know Is fixt upon me; alas, I must love nothing, Nothing that loves again must I be blest with: The gentle Vine climbs up the Oke and clips him, And when the stroke comes, yet they fall together; Death, death must I enjoy, and live to love him, O noble Sir!

_Mem._ Those tears are some reward yet, Pray let me wed your sorrows.

_Calis._ Take 'em Souldier, They are fruitfull ones, lay but a sigh upon 'em, And straight they will conceive to infinites; I told ye what ye would find 'em.

_Enter_ Funeral, _Captains following, and_ Eumenes.

_King._ How now, what's this? more drops to th' Ocean? Whose body's this?

_Eum._ The noble _Polydor_, This speaks his death.

_Mem._ My Brother dead?

_Calis._ O Goddess! O cruel, cruel _Venus_, here's my fortune.

_King._ Read Captain.

_Mem._ Read aloud: farewel my follies. [Eumen. _reads to the Excellent Princess_ Calis.

_Eum._ Be wise, as you are beauteous, love with judgement, And look with clear eyes on my noble Brother, Value desert and vertue, 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 _Memnons_ 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. _Farewel._

_Mem._ And did'st thou die for me?

_King._ Excellent vertue! What will ye now doe?

_Calis._ Dwell for ever here Sir.

_Mem._ For me dear _Polydor_? O worthy young man! O love, love, love, love above recompence! Infinite love, infinite honesty! Good Lady leave, you must have no share here, Take home your sorrows: here's enough to store me, Brave glorious griefs! was ever such a Brother? Turn all the stories over in the world yet, And search through all the memories of mankind, And find me such a friend; h'as out done all, Outstript 'em sheerly, all, all, thou hast _Polydor_, To die for me; why, as I hope for happiness, 'Twas one of the rarest thought on things, The bravest, and carried beyond compass of our actions, I wonder how he hit it, a young man too, In all the blossomes of his youth and beautie, In all the fulness of his veins and wishes Woo'd by that Paradise, that would catch Heaven; It starts me extreamly, thou blest Ashes, Thou faithfull monument, where love and friendship Shall while the world is, work new miracles.

_Calis._ O! let me speak too.

_Mem._ No not yet; thou man, (For we are but mans shadows,) only man, I have not words to utter him; speak Lady, I'le think a while.

_Calis._ The Goddess grants me this yet, I shall enjoy the 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 tuffest 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; O sweet young man!

_King._ Now I begin to melt too.

_Mem._ Have ye enough yet Lady? room for a gamester. To my fond Love, and all those idle fancies A long farewel, thou diedst for me dear _Polydor_, To give me peace, thou hast eternal glory, I stay and talk here; I will kiss thee first, And now I'le follow thee. [_Polydor rises._

_Pol._ Hold, for Heavens sake!

_Mem._ Ha! Does he live? Dost thou deceive me?

_Pol._ Thus far, Yet for your good, and honour.

_King._ Now dear Sister.

_Calis._ The Oracle is ended, noble Sir, Dispose me now as you please.

_Pol._ You are mine then?

_Calis._ With all the joyes that may be.

_Pol._ Your consent Sir?

_King._ Ye have it freely.

_Pol._ Walk along with me then, And as you love me, love my will.

_Calis._ I will so.

_Pol._ Here worthy Brother, take this vertuous Princess, Ye have deserv'd her nobly, she will love ye, And when my life shall bring ye peace, as she does, Command it, ye shall have it.

_Mem._ Sir, I thank ye.

_King._ I never found such goodness in such years.

_Mem._ Thou shalt not over-doe me, though I die for't, O how I love thy goodness, my best Brother, You have given me here a treasure to enrich me, Would make the worthiest King alive a begger, What may I give you back again?

_Pol._ Your love Sir.

_Mem._ And you shall have it, even my dearest love, My first, my noblest love, take her again, Sir, She is yours, your honesty has over-run me, She loves ye, lose her not: excellent Princess, Injoy thy wish, and now get Generals.

_Pol._ As ye love heaven, love him, she is only yours, Sir.

_Mem._ As ye love heaven, love him, she is only yours, Sir; My Lord, the King.

_Pol._ He will undoe himself Sir, And must without her perish; who shall fight then? Who shall protect your Kingdom?

_Mem._ Give me hearing, 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 vertuous 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 or issues To know him fruitfull, that has been so faithfull.

_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.

_Pol._ Chuse discreetly, And vertue guide ye, there all the world in one man Stands at the mark.

_Mem._ There all mans honestie, The sweetness of all youth--

_Cal._ O God's!

_Mem._ My Armour, By all the God's she's yours; my Arms, I say, And I beseech your Grace, give me imployment, That shall be now my Mistress, there my Courtship.

_King._ Ye shall have any thing.

_Mem._ Vertuous Lady, Remember me, your Servant now; Young man, You cannot over-reach me in your goodness; O love! how sweet thou look'st now! and how gentle! I should have slubber'd thee, and stain'd thy beauty; Your hand, your hand Sir!

_King._ Take her, and Heaven bless her.

_Mem._ So.

_Pol._ 'Tis your will Sir, nothing of my merit; And as your royal gift, I take this blessing.

_Cal._ And I from heaven this gentleman: thanks Goddess.

_Mem._ So ye are pleas'd now Lady?

_Calis._ Now or never.

_Mem._ My cold stiffe carkass would have frozen ye, Wars, wars.

_King._ Ye shall have wars.

_Mem._ My next brave battel I dedicate to your bright honour, Sister, Give me a favour, that the world may know I am your Souldier.

_Calis._ This, and all fair Fortunes.

_Mem._ And he that bears this from me, must strike boldly. [Cleanthe _kneeling_.

_Calis._ I do forgive thee: be honest; no more wench.

_King._ Come now to Revels, this blest day shall prove The happy crown of noble Faith and Love. [_Exeunt._

Prologue.

_To please all's impossible, and to despair_ _Ruins our selves, and damps the Writers care:_ _Would we knew what to doe, or say, or when_ _To find the mindes here equal with the men:_ _But we must venture; now to Sea we goe,_ _Faire fortune with us, give us room, and blow;_ _Remember ye're all venturers; and in this Play_ _How many twelve-peaces ye have 'stow'd this day:_ _Remember for return of your delight,_ _We launch, and plough through storms of fear, and spight:_ _Give us your fore-winds fairly, fill our wings,_ _And steer us right, and as the Saylor sings,_ _Loaden with Wealth, on wanton seas, so we_ _Shall make our home-bound-voyage chearfully;_ _And you our noble Merchants, for your treasure_ _Share equally the fraught, we run for pleasure._

Epilogue.

_Here lyes the doubt now, let our Playes be good,_ _Our own care sailing equall in this Flood;_ _Our preparations new, new our Attire,_ _Yet here we are becalmed still, still i' th' mire,_ _Here we stick fast; Is there no way to clear_ _This passage of your judgement, and our fear,_ _No mitigation of that law? Brave friends,_ _Consider we are yours, made for your ends,_ _And every thing preserves it self, each will_ _If not perverse, and crooked, utter still_ _The best of that it ventures in: have care_ _Ev'n for your pleasures sake, of what we are,_ _And do not ruine all, You may frown still,_ _But 'tis the nobler way, to check the will._

APPENDIX.

_In the following references to the text the lines are numbered from the top of the page, including titles, acts, stage directions, &c., but not, of course, the headline or mere 'rules.' Where, as in the lists of Persons Represented, there are double columns, the right-hand column is numbered after the left._

It has not been thought necessary to record the correction of every turned letter nor the substitution of marks of interrogation for marks of exclamation and _vice versa_. Full-stops have been silently inserted at the ends of speeches and each fresh speaker has been given the dignity of a fresh line: in the double-columned folio the speeches are frequently run on. Only misprints of interest in the Quartos and the First Folio are recorded.

THE ELDER BROTHER and WIT WITHOUT MONEY.

_Additions to Appendix, Vol._ II.

p. #450#, l. 23. _for_ D _read_ A--D.

p. #451#, l. 39. _for_ E _read_ A, D, E. l. 46. _for_ A--C _read_ A--D.

p. #452#, l. 9. _for_ E _read_ A--E. l. 12. _for_ thing _read_ creatures. l. 25. _for_ A adds _read_ A and D add. l. 37. _for_ A _read_ A and B.

p. #503#, l. 41. _for_ l. 21 _read_ l. 31.

THE MAD LOVER.

Variations are those of the 1st folio unless otherwise stated.

p. #1#, ll. 3-38. Not in 1st folio.

p. #2#, l. 19. Generall Generall. l. 33. Some though. l. 37. _Adds stage direction_] Drum within.

p. #3#, l. 1. reads _Drum_ only. l. 15. must sweat; bring. l. 32. If ye dare. l. 36. damp't.

p. #4#, l. 27. has.

p. #6#, l. 32. Is troubled.

p. #7#, l. 23. y _broken off in_ 2nd folio. l. 27. consideration what, or how. l. 31. undigested done. l. 38. 2d folio _misprints_] Men.

p. #8#, l. 4. of a warre. l. 12. her backe.

p. #9#, l. 10. 2nd folio _misprints_] plauge. l. 22. You men of wars. l. 31. Thou't.

p. #10#, l. 16. By wambling.

p. #12#, l. 9. And money. l. 36. and thou.