Chapter 3

_Amint_. These strange and sudden injuries have faln So thick upon me, that I lose all sense Of what they are: methinks I am not wrong'd, Nor is it ought, if from the censuring World I can but hide it--Reputation, Thou art a word, no more; but thou hast shown An impudence so high, that to the World I fear thou wilt betray or shame thy self.

_Evad_. To cover shame I took thee, never fear That I would blaze my self.

_Amint_. Nor let the King Know I conceive he wrongs me, then mine honour Will thrust me into action, that my flesh Could bear with patience; and it is some ease To me in these extreams, that I knew this Before I toucht thee; else had all the sins Of mankind stood betwixt me and the King, I had gone through 'em to his heart and thine. I have lost one desire, 'tis not his crown Shall buy me to thy bed: now I resolve He has dishonour'd thee; give me thy hand, Be careful of thy credit, and sin close, 'Tis all I wish; upon thy Chamber-floore I'le rest to night, that morning visiters May think we did as married people use. And prethee smile upon me when they come, And seem to toy, as if thou hadst been pleas'd With what we did.

_Evad_. Fear not, I will do this.

_Amint_. Come let us practise, and as wantonly As ever loving Bride and Bridegroom met, Lets laugh and enter here.

_Evad_. I am content.

_Amint_. Down all the swellings of my troubled heart. When we walk thus intwin'd, let all eyes see If ever Lovers better did agree.

[_Exit_.

_Enter_ Aspatia, Antiphila _and_ Olympias.

_Asp_. Away, you are not sad, force it no further; Good Gods, how well you look! such a full colour Young bashful Brides put on: sure you are new married.

_Ant_. Yes Madam, to your grief.

_Asp_. Alas! poor Wenches. Go learn to love first, learn to lose your selves, Learn to be flattered, and believe, and bless The double tongue that did it; Make a Faith out of the miracles of Ancient Lovers. Did you ne're love yet Wenches? speak _Olympias_, Such as speak truth and dy'd in't, And like me believe all faithful, and be miserable; Thou hast an easie temper, fit for stamp.

_Olymp_. Never.

_Asp_. Nor you _Antiphila_?

_Ant_. Nor I.

_Asp_. Then my good Girles, be more than Women, wise. At least be more than I was; and be sure you credit any thing the light gives light to, before a man; rather believe the Sea weeps for the ruin'd Merchant when he roars; rather the wind courts but the pregnant sails when the strong cordage cracks; rather the Sun comes but to kiss the Fruit in wealthy Autumn, when all falls blasted; if you needs must love (forc'd by ill fate) take to your maiden bosoms two dead cold aspicks, and of them make Lovers, they cannot flatter nor forswear; one kiss makes a long peace for all; but man, Oh that beast man! Come lets be sad my Girles; That down cast of thine eye, _Olympias_, Shews a fine sorrow; mark _Antiphila_, Just such another was the Nymph _Oenone_, When _Paris_ brought home _Helen_: now a tear, And then thou art a piece expressing fully The _Carthage_ Queen, when from a cold Sea Rock, Full with her sorrow, she tyed fast her eyes To the fair _Trojan_ ships, and having lost them, Just as thine eyes do, down stole a tear, _Antiphila_; What would this Wench do, if she were _Aspatia_? Here she would stand, till some more pitying God Turn'd her to Marble: 'tis enough my Wench; Shew me the piece of Needle-work you wrought.

_Ant_. Of _Ariadne_, Madam?

_Asp_. Yes that piece. This should be _Theseus_, h'as a cousening face, You meant him for a man.

_Ant_. He was so Madam.

_Asp_. Why then 'tis well enough, never look back, You have a full wind, and a false heart _Theseus_; Does not the story say, his Keel was split, Or his Masts spent, or some kind rock or other Met with his Vessel?

_Ant_. Not as I remember.

_Asp_. It should ha' been so; could the Gods know this, And not of all their number raise a storm? But they are all as ill. This false smile was well exprest; Just such another caught me; you shall not go so _Antiphila_, In this place work a quick-sand, And over it a shallow smiling Water. And his ship ploughing it, and then a fear. Do that fear to the life Wench.

_Ant_. 'Twill wrong the story.

_Asp_. 'Twill make the story wrong'd by wanton Poets Live long and be believ'd; but where's the Lady?

_Ant_. There Madam.

_Asp_. Fie, you have mist it here _Antiphila_, You are much mistaken Wench; These colours are not dull and pale enough, To shew a soul so full of misery As this sad Ladies was; do it by me, Do it again by me the lost _Aspatia_, And you shall find all true but the wild Island; I stand upon the Sea breach now, and think Mine arms thus, and mine hair blown with the wind, Wild as that desart, and let all about me Tell that I am forsaken, do my face

(If thou hadst ever feeling of a sorrow) Thus, thus, _Antiphila_ strive to make me look Like sorrows monument; and the trees about me, Let them be dry and leaveless; let the Rocks Groan with continual surges, and behind me Make all a desolation; look, look Wenches, A miserable life of this poor Picture.

_Olym_. Dear Madam!

_Asp_. I have done, sit down, and let us Upon that point fix all our eyes, that point there; Make a dull silence till you feel a sudden sadness Give us new souls. [_Enter Calianax_.

_Cal_. The King may do this, and he may not do it; My child is wrong'd, disgrac'd: well, how now Huswives? What at your ease? is this a time to sit still? up you young Lazie Whores, up or I'le sweng you.

_Olym_. Nay, good my Lord.

_Cal_. You'l lie down shortly, get you in and work; What are you grown so resty? you want ears, We shall have some of the Court boys do that Office.

_Ant_. My Lord we do no more than we are charg'd: It is the Ladies pleasure we be thus in grief; She is forsaken.

_Cal_. There's a Rogue too, A young dissembling slave; well, get you in, I'le have a bout with that boy; 'tis high time Now to be valiant; I confess my youth Was never prone that way: what, made an Ass? A Court stale? well I will be valiant, And beat some dozen of these Whelps; I will; and there's Another of 'em, a trim cheating souldier, I'le maul that Rascal, h'as out-brav'd me twice; But now I thank the Gods I am valiant; Go, get you in, I'le take a course with all.

[_Exeunt Omnes_.

_Actus Tertius_.

_Enter_ Cleon, Strato, Diphilus.

_Cle_. Your sister is not up yet.

_Diph_. Oh, Brides must take their mornings rest, The night is troublesome.

_Stra_. But not tedious.

_Diph_. What odds, he has not my Sisters maiden-head to night?

_Stra_. No, it's odds against any Bridegroom living, he ne're gets it while he lives.

_Diph_. Y'are merry with my Sister, you'l please to allow me the same freedom with your Mother.

_Stra_. She's at your service.

_Diph_. Then she's merry enough of her self, she needs no tickling; knock at the door.

_Stra_. We shall interrupt them.

_Diph_. No matter, they have the year before them. Good morrow Sister; spare your self to day, the night will come again.

[_Enter Amintor_.

_Amint_. Who's there, my Brother? I am no readier yet, your Sister is but now up.

_Diph_. You look as you had lost your eyes to night; I think you ha' not slept.

_Amint_. I faith I have not.

_Diph_. You have done better then.

_Amint_. We ventured for a Boy; when he is Twelve, He shall command against the foes of _Rhodes_.

_Stra_. You cannot, you want sleep. [_Aside_.

_Amint_. 'Tis true; but she As if she had drunk _Lethe_, or had made Even with Heaven, did fetch so still a sleep, So sweet and sound.

_Diph_. What's that?

_Amint_. Your Sister frets this morning, and does turn her eyes upon me, as people on their headsman; she does chafe, and kiss, and chafe again, and clap my cheeks; she's in another world.

_Diph_. Then I had lost; I was about to lay, you had not got her Maiden-head to night.

_Amint_. Ha! he does not mock me; y'ad lost indeed; I do not use to bungle.

_Cleo_. You do deserve her.

_Amint_. I laid my lips to hers, and [t]hat wild breath That was rude and rough to me, last night

[_Aside.

Was sweet as _April_; I'le be guilty too, If these be the effects.

[_Enter Melantius_.

_Mel_. Good day _Amintor_, for to me the name Of Brother is too distant; we are friends, And that is nearer.

_Amint_. Dear _Melantius_! Let me behold thee; is it possible?

_Mel_. What sudden gaze is this?

_Amint_. 'Tis wonderous strange.

_Mel_. Why does thine eye desire so strict a view Of that it knows so well? There's nothing here that is not thine.

_Amint_. I wonder much _Melantius_, To see those noble looks that make me think How vertuous thou art; and on the sudden 'Tis strange to me, thou shouldst have worth and honour, Or not be base, and false, and treacherous, And every ill. But--

_Mel_. Stay, stay my Friend, I fear this sound will not become our loves; no more, embrace me.

_Amint_. Oh mistake me not; I know thee to be full of all those deeds That we frail men call good: but by the course Of nature thou shouldst be as quickly chang'd As are the winds, dissembling as the Sea, That now wears brows as smooth as Virgins be, Tempting the Merchant to invade his face, And in an hour calls his billows up, And shoots 'em at the Sun, destroying all He carries on him. O how near am I

[_Aside_.

To utter my sick thoughts!

_Mel_. But why, my Friend, should I be so by Nature?

_Amin_. I have wed thy Sister, who hath vertuous thoughts Enough for one whole family, and it is strange That you should feel no want.

_Mel_. Believe me, this complement's too cunning for me.

_Diph_. What should I be then by the course of nature, They having both robb'd me of so much vertue?

_Strat_. O call the Bride, my Lord _Amintor_, that we may see her blush, and turn her eyes down; it is the prettiest sport.

_Amin_. _Evadne_!

_Evad_. My Lord! [_Within_.

_Amint_. Come forth my Love, Your Brothers do attend to wish you joy.

_Evad_. I am not ready yet.

_Amint_. Enough, enough.

_Evad_. They'l mock me.

_Amint_. Faith thou shalt come in.

[_Enter Evadne_.

_Mel_. Good morrow Sister; he that understands Whom you have wed, need not to wish you joy. You have enough, take heed you be not proud.

_Diph_. O Sister, what have you done!

_Evad_. I done! why, what have I done?

_Strat_. My Lord _Amintor_ swears you are no Maid now.

_Evad_. Push!

_Strat_. I faith he does.

_Evad_. I knew I should be mockt.

_Diph_. With a truth.

_Evad_. If 'twere to do again, in faith I would not marry.

_Amint_. Not I by Heaven. [_Aside_.

_Diph_. Sister, Dula swears she heard you cry two rooms off.

_Evad_. Fie how you talk!

_Diph_. Let's see you walk.

_Evad_. By my troth y'are spoil'd.

_Mel_. _Amintor_!

_Amint_. Ha!

_Mel_. Thou art sad.

_Amint_. Who I? I thank you for that, shall _Diphilus_, thou and I sing a catch?

_Mel_. How!

_Amint_. Prethee let's.

_Mel_. Nay, that's too much the other way.

_Amint_. I am so lightned with my happiness: how dost thou Love? kiss me.

_Evad_. I cannot love you, you tell tales of me.

_Amint_. Nothing but what becomes us: Gentlemen, Would you had all such Wives, and all the world, That I might be no wonder; y'are all sad; What, do you envie me? I walk methinks On water, and ne're sink, I am so light.

_Mel_. 'Tis well you are so.

_Amint_. Well? how can I be other, when she looks thus? Is there no musick there? let's dance.

_Mel_. Why? this is strange, _Amintor_!

_Amint_. I do not know my self; Yet I could wish my joy were less.

_Diph_. I'le marry too, if it will make one thus.

_Evad_. _Amintor_, hark. [_Aside_.

_Amint_. What says my Love? I must obey.

_Evad_. You do it scurvily, 'twill be perceiv'd.

_Cle_. My Lord the King is here.

[_Enter King and Lysi_.

_Amint_. Where?

_Stra_. And his Brother.

_King_. Good morrow all. _Amintor,_ joy on, joy fall thick upon thee! And Madam, you are alter'd since I saw you, I must salute you; you are now anothers; How lik't you your nights rest?

_Evad_. Ill Sir.

_Amint_. I! 'deed she took but little.

_Lys_. You'l let her take more, and thank her too shortly.

_King_. _Amintor_, wert thou truly honest Till thou wert Married?

_Amint_. Yes Sir.

_King_. Tell me then, how shews the sport unto thee?

_Amint_. Why well.

_King_. What did you do?

_Amint_. No more nor less than other couples use; You know what 'tis; it has but a course name.

_King_. But prethee, I should think by her black eye, And her red cheek, she should be quick and stirring In this same business, ha?

_Amint_. I cannot tell, I ne're try'd other Sir, but I perceive She is as quick as you delivered.

_King_. Well, you'l trust me then _Amintor_, To choose a Wife for you agen?

_Amint_. No never Sir.

_King_. Why? like you this so ill?

_Amint_. So well I like her. For this I bow my knee in thanks to you, And unto Heaven will pay my grateful tribute Hourly, and to hope we shall draw out A long contented life together here, And die both full of gray hairs in one day; For which the thanks is yours; but if the powers That rule us, please to call her first away, Without pride spoke, this World holds not a Wife Worthy to take her room.

_King_. I do not like this; all forbear the room But you _Amintor_ and your Lady. I have some speech with You, that may concern your after living well. _Amint_. He will not tell me that he lies with her: if he do, Something Heavenly stay my heart, for I shall be apt To thrust this arm of mine to acts unlawful.

_King_. You will suffer me to talk with her _Amintor_, And not have a jealous pang!

_Amint_. Sir, I dare trust my Wife With whom she dares to talk, and not be jealous.

_King_. How do you like _Amintor_?

_Evad_. As I did Sir.

_King_. How's that!

_Evad_. As one that to fulfil your will and pleasure, I have given leave to call me Wife and Love.

_King_. I see there is no lasting Faith in Sin; They that break word with Heaven, will break again With all the World, and so dost thou with me.

_Evad_. How Sir?

_King_. This subtile Womans ignorance Will not excuse you; thou hast taken Oaths So great, methought they did not well become A Womans mouth, that thou wouldst ne're enjoy A man but me.

_Evad_. I never did swear so; you do me wrong.

_King_. Day and night have heard it.

_Evad_. I swore indeed that I would never love A man of lower place; but if your fortune Should throw you from this height, I bade you trust I would forsake you, and would bend to him That won your Throne; I love with my ambition, Not with mine eyes; but if I ever yet Toucht any other, Leprosie light here Upon my face, which for your Royalty I would not stain.

_King_. Why thou dissemblest, and it is in me to punish thee.

_Evad_. Why, it is in me then not to love you, which will More afflict your body, than your punishment can mine.

_King_. But thou hast let _Amintor_ lie with thee.

_Evad_. I ha'not.

_King_. Impudence! he saies himself so.

_Evad_. He lyes.

_King_. He does not.

_Evad_. By this light he does, strangely and basely, and I'le prove it so; I did not shun him for a night, But told him I would never close with him.

_King_. Speak lower, 'tis false.

_Evad_. I'm no man to answer with a blow; Or if I were, you are the King; but urge me not, 'tis most true.

_King_. Do not I know the uncontrouled thoughts That youth brings with him, when his bloud is high With expectation and desires of that He long hath waited for? is not his spirit, Though he be temperate, of a valiant strain, As this our age hath known? what could he do, If such a sudden speech had met his blood, But ruine thee for ever? if he had not kill'd thee, He could not bear it thus; he is as we, Or any other wrong'd man.

_Evad_. It is dissembling.

_King_. Take him; farewel; henceforth I am thy foe; And what disgraces I can blot thee, look for.

_Evad_. Stay Sir; _Amintor_, you shall hear, _Amintor_.

_Amint_. What my Love?

_Evad_. _Amintor_, thou hast an ingenious look, And shouldst be vertuous; it amazeth me, That thou canst make such base malicious lyes.

_Amint_. What my dear Wife?

_Evad_. Dear Wife! I do despise thee; Why, nothing can be baser, than to sow Dissention amongst Lovers.

_Amint_. Lovers! who?

_Evad_. The King and me.

_Amint_. O Heaven!

_Evad_. Who should live long, and love without distaste, Were it not for such pickthanks as thy self! Did you lie with me? swear now, and be punisht in hell For this.

_Amint_. The faithless Sin I made To fair _Aspatia_, is not yet reveng'd, It follows me; I will not lose a word To this wild Woman; but to you my King, The anguish of my soul thrusts out this truth, Y'are a Tyrant; and not so much to wrong An honest man thus, as to take a pride In talking with him of it.

_Evad_. Now Sir, see how loud this fellow lyed.

_Amint_. You that can know to wrong, should know how Men must right themselves: what punishment is due From me to him that shall abuse my bed! It is not death; nor can that satisfie, Unless I send your lives through all the Land, To shew how nobly I have freed my self.

_King_. Draw not thy Sword, thou knowest I cannot fear A subjects hand; but thou shalt feel the weight of this If thou dost rage.

_Amint_. The weight of that? If you have any worth, for Heavens sake think I fear not Swords; for as you are meer man, I dare as easily kill you for this deed, As you dare think to do it; but there is Divinity about you, that strikes dead My rising passions, as you are my King, I fall before you, and present my Sword To cut mine own flesh, if it be your will. Alas! I am nothing but a multitude Of walking griefs; yet should I murther you, I might before the world take the excuse Of madness: for compare my injuries, And they will well appear too sad a weight For reason to endure; but fall I first Amongst my sorrows, ere my treacherous hand Touch holy things: but why? I know not what I have to say; why did you choose out me To make thus wretched? there were thousand fools Easie to work on, and of state enough within the Island.

_Evad_. I would not have a fool, it were no credit for me.