The Maid’s Tragedy

Front matter

THE

MAID’S

TRAGEDY.

Dramatis Personae

Dramatis Personæ KING. LYSIPPUS, Brother to the King. AMINTOR, a noble Gentleman. NIELANTIUS, DIPHILUS, Brothers to Evadne. CALIANAX, an old humorous Lord, and Father to Aspatia. CLEON, STRATO, Gentlemen. DIAGORAS, a Servant to Calianax.

EVADNE, Sister to Melantius and Wife to Amintor. ASPATIA, The troth-plight Wife to Amintor. ANTIPHILA, OLYMPIAS, Waiting-Gentlewomen to Aspatia. DULA, Waiting-Woman to Evadne. Ladies.

NIGHT, CYNTHIA, NEPTUNE, AEOLUS, Sea Gods, Masquers.

Act I. Scene I.

THE

Maid's Tragedy.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Enter Cleon, Strato, Lysippus, and Diphilus.

Cleon.THE rest are making ready, Sir.

Lys. So let them, there's time enough.

Diph. You are the Brother to the King, my Lord; We'll take your word.

Lys. Strato, thou hast some skill in Poetry, What think'st thou of the Mask? will it be well?

Strat. As well as Mask can be.

Lys. As Mask can be?

Strat. Yes, they must commend their King, and speak in Praise of the Assembly, bless the Bride and Bridegroom, in Person of some God; they're tyed to Rules of Flattery.

Cle. See, good my Lord, who is return'd!

Enter Melantius.

Lys. Noble Melantius! The Land by me Welcomes thy Virtues home to Rhodes. Thou that with Blood abroad buy'st us our Peace; The Breath of Kings is like the Breath of Gods; My Brother wisht thee here, and thou art here; He will be too kind, and weary thee with often welcomes; but the time doth give thee a welcome above this or all the World's.

Mel. My lord, my Thanks; but these scratch'd Limbs of mine Have spoke my Love and Truth unto my Friends, More than my tongue e'er could: my Mind's the same It ever was to you, where I find Worth, I love the Keeper, till he let it go, And then I follow it.

Diph. Hail, worthy Brother!

He that rejoices not at your Return In Safety, is mine Enemy for ever.

Mel. I thank thee, Diphilus. but thou art faulty; I sent for thee to exercise thine Arms With me at Patria: thou cam'st not, Diphilus; 'Twas ill.

Diph. My noble Brother, my Excuse Is my King's strict Command, which you, my Lord, Can witness with me.

Lys. 'Tis true, Melantius, He might not come till the Solemnity Of this great Match was past.

Diph. Have you heard of it?

Mel. Yes, I have given cause to those that Envy my Deeds abroad, to call me gamesome: I have no other Business here at Rhodes.

Lys. We have a Mask to Night, And you must tread a Soldier's measure.

Mel. These soft and silken Wars are not for me: The Musick must be shrill, and all confus'd, That stirs my Blood, and then I dance with Arms: But is Amintor wed?

Diph. This Day.

Mel. All Joys upon him, for he is my Friend: His Worth is great; Valiant he is, and Temperate, And one that never thinks his Life his own, If his Friend need it: When he was a Boy, As oft as I return'd (as without boast I brought home Conquest) he would gaze upon me, And view me round, to find in what one Limb The Virtue lay to do those things he heard: Then would he wish to see my Sword, and feel The quickness of the Edge, and in his Hand Weigh it; he oft would make me smile at this: His Youth did promise much, and his ripe Years Will see it all perform'd.

Enter Aspatia passing by.

Mel. Hail Maid and Wife! Thou fair Aspatia, may the holy Knot, That thou hast tyed to day, last till the Hand Of Age undo't; may'st thou bring a Race Unto Amintor, that may fill the World Successively with Soldiers!

Asp. My hard fortunes Deserve not Scorn; for I was never proud When they were good.

Mel. How's this?

[Exit Asp.

Lys. You are mistaken, for she is not Married.

Mel. You said Amintor was.

Diph. 'Tis true; but——

Mel. Pardon me, I did receive Letters at Patria from my Amintor, That he should marry her.

Diph. And so it stood,

In all Opinion long; but your Arrival Made me imagine you had heard the Change.

Mel. Who hath he taken then?

Lys. A Lady, Sir, That bears the Light about her, and strikes dead With flashes of her Eye; the fair Evadne, your virtuous Sister.

Mel. Peace of Heart betwixt them: but this is strange.

Lys. The king my brother did it, To honour you; and these Solemnities Are at his Charge.

Mel. 'Tis royal, like himself. But I am sad, my speech bears so unfortunate a sound To beautiful Aspatia; there is Rage Hid in her father's breast; Calianax, Bent long against me; and he should not think, If I could call it back, that I would take So base revenges, as to scorn the State Of his neglected Daughter. Holds he still His Greatness with the King?

Lys. Yes; But this Lady Walks discontented, with her warry Eyes Bent on the Earth: The unfrequented Woods Are her Delight; and when she sees a Bank Stuck full of Flowers, she with a Sigh will tell Her Servants what a pretty place it were To bury Lovers in, and make her Maids Pluck 'em, and strOw her over like a Corse. She carries with her an infectious Grief, That strikes all her Beholders; she will sing The mournful'st things that ever Ear hath heard, And sigh, and sing again; and when the rest Of our young Ladies, in their wanton Blood, Tell mirthful Tales in course, that fill the Room With Laughter, she will with so sad a Look Bring forth a Story of the silent Death Of some forsaken Virgin, which her Grief Will put in such a Phrase, that e'er she end, She'll send them weeping one by one away.

Mel. She has a Brother under my Command, Like her, a Face as womanish as hers, But with a Spirit that hath much out-grown The Number of his Years.

Enter Amintor.

Cle. My Lord the Bridegroom!

Mel. I might run fiercely, not more hastily, Upon my Foe. I love thee well, Amintor, My Mouth is much too narrow for my Heart; I joy to look upon those Eyes of thine; Thou art my Friend, but my disorder'd Speech

Cuts off my love.

Amin. Thou art Melantius; All Love is spoke in that, a Sacrifice To thank the gods, Melantius is return'd In Safety; Victory sits on his Sword As she was wont; may she build there and dwell, And may thy Armour be as it hath been, Only thy Valour and thy Innocence. What endless Treasures would our Enemies give, That I might hold thee still thus!

Mel. I am but poor in words; but credit me, young Man, Thy mother could no more but weep, for joy to see thee After long absence; all the Wounds I have Fetch not so much away, nor all the Cries Of widowed Mothers: but this is Peace; And what was War?

Amin. Pardon, thou holy God Of Marriage-bed, and frown not, I am forc'd, In answer of such noble Tears as those, To weep upon my Wedding-day.

Mel. I fear thou art grown too sick; for I hear A Lady mourns for thee; Men say, to Death, Forsaken of thee, on what Terms I know not.

Amin. She had my Promise; but the King forbade it, And made me make this worthy Change, thy Sister, Accompanied with Graces above her; With whom I long to lose my lusty Youth, And grow old in her Arms.

Mel. Be prosperous!

Enter Messenger.

Mess. My Lord, the Maskers rage for you.

Lyss. We are gone. Cleon, Strato, Diphilus.

Amin. We'll all attend you, we shall trouble you With our solemnities.

Mel. Not so, Amintor. But if you laugh at my rude carriage In Peace, I'll do as much for you in War, When you come thither: yet I have a Mistress To bring to your Delights; rough though I am, I have a Mistress, and she has a Heart, She says, but trust me, it is Stone, no better, There is no place that I can challenge in't. But you stand still, and here my Way lies.

[Exeunt.

Act I. Scene II.

Enter Calianax, with Diagoras.

Cal. Diagoras, look to the Doors better for shame, you let in all the World, and anon the King will rail at me; why very well said, by Jove the King will have the Show i' th' Court.

Diag. Why do you swear so, my Lord? You know, he'll have it here.

Cal. By this Light if he be wise he will not.

Diag. And if he will not be wise, you are forsworn.

Cal. One may wear out his heart with swearing, and get thanks on no side. I'll be gone—look to't who will.

Diag. My Lord, I shall never keep them out. Pray, stay; your Looks will terrifie them.

Cal. My looks terrifie them, you Coxcombly Ass, you! I'll be judged by all the Company whether thou hast not a worse Face than I——

Diag. I mean, because they know you and your Office.

Cal. Office! I would I could put it off, I am sure I sweat quite through my Office. I might have made room at my Daughter's Wedding, they had near kill'd her among them. And now I must do service for him that hath forsaken her; serve that will.

[Exit Calianax.

Diag. He's so humorous since his Daughter was forsaken: hark, hark, there, there, so, so, codes, codes.

[Knock within.]

What now?

Mel. Open the door.

Diag. Who's there?

Mel. Melantius.

Diag. I hope your Lordship brings no Troop with you, for if you do, I must return them.

Enter Melantius and a Lady.

Mel. None but this Lady, Sir.

Diag. The Ladies are all plac'd above, save those that come in the King's Troop, the best of Rhodes sit there, and there's room.

Mel. I thank you, Sir. When I have seen you plac'd, Madam, I must attend the King; but, the Mask done, I'll wait on you again.

Diag. Stand back there, room for my Lord Melantius, pray, bear back; this is no place for such Youths and their Trulls; let the Doors be shut again; ay, do your Heads itch? I'll scratch them for you: so now thrust and hang: again, who is't now? I cannot blame my Lord Calianax for going away; would he were here, he would run raging among them, and break a dozen wiser Heads than his own in the twinkling of an Eye: what's the news now? Within.]I pray you, can you help me to the speech of the master-cook?

Diag. If I open the Door I'll cook some of your Calves-heads. Peace Rogues——again,——who is't?

Mel. Melantius.

[Within.

Enter Calianax to Melantius.

.

Cal. Let him not in.

Diag. O, my Lord, I must; make room there for my Lord. Is your Lady plac'd?

[To Mel.

Mel. Yes, Sir, I thank you. My Lord Calianax, well met, your causeless Hate to me I hope is buried.

Cal. Yes, I do service for your Sister here, That brings my own poor Child to timeless Death; She loves your Friend Amintor, such another false-hearted Lord as you.

Mel. You do me wrong, A most unmanly one, and I am slow In taking vengeance; but be well advis'd.

Cal. It may be so: Who plac'd the Lady there so near the presence of the King?

Mel. I did.

Cal. My Lord, she must not sit there.

Mel. Why?

Cal. The place is kept for Women of more Worth.

Mel. More Worth than she? It mis-becomes your Age And Place to be thus womanish; forbear; What you have spoke, I am content to think The Palsey shook your Tongue to.

Cal. Why, 'tis well if I stand here to place Mens Wenches.

Mel. I shall forget this Place, thy Age, my Safety, and thorough all, cut that poor sickly week, thou hast to live, away from thee.

Cal. Nay, I know you can fight for your Whore.

Mel. Bate the King, and be he Flesh and Blood, He lyes that says it; thy Mother at fifteen Was black and sinful to her.

Diag. Good my Lord!

Mel. Some God pluck threescore Years from that fond Man, That I may kill him, and not stain mine Honour; It is the curse of Soldiers, that in Peace They shall be brain'd by such ignoble Men, As (if the Land were troubled) would with Tears And Knees beg Succour from 'em. Would that Blood (That Sea of Blood) that I have lost in fight, Were running in thy Veins, that it might make thee Apt to say less, or able to maintain. Should'st thou say more.2This Rhodes I see is nought But a Place priviledg'd to do Men wrong.

Cal. Ay, you may say your pleasure.

Enter Amintor.

Amin. What vile Injury Has stirr'd my worthy Friend, who is as slow To fight with Words, as he is quick of Hand?

Mel. That heap of Age, which I should reverence If it were temperate; but testy Years Are most contemptible.

Amin. Good Sir forbear.

Cal. There is just such another as your self.

Amin. He will wrong you, or me, or any Man, And talk as if he had no Life to lose, Since this our Match: The King is coming in,

I would not for more wealth than I enjoy, He should perceive you raging; he did hear You were at difference now, which hastned him.

Cal. Make room there.

Hautboys play within.

Enter King, Evadne, Aspatia, Lords, and Ladies.

King. Melantius, thou art welcome, and my Love Is with thee still; but this is not a Place To babble in; Calianax, join hands.

Cal. He shall not have my hand.

King. This is no time To force you to't. I do love you both: Calianax, you look well to your Office; And you Melantius are welcome home. Begin the Mask.

Mel. Sister, I joy to see you, and your Choice. You lookt with my Eyes when you took that Man; Be happy in him.

[Recorders play.

Evad. O my dearest brother! Your Presence is more joyful than this Day can be unto me.

THE MASK.

Night rises in Mists.

Night. Our Reign is come; for in the raging Sea The Sun is drown'd, and with him fell the Day: Bright Cinthia hear my voice, I am the Night For whom thou bear'st about thy borrow'd Light; Appear, no longer thy pale Visage shrowd, But strike thy Silver Horn thorough a Cloud, And send a Beam upon my swarthy Face, By which I may discover all the Place And Persons, and how many longing Eyes Are come to wait on our Solemnities.

[Enter Cinthia.

How dull and black am I? I could not find This Beauty without thee, I am so blind; Methinks they shew like to those Eastern Streaks That warn us hence, before the Morning breaks; Back, my pale Servant, for these Eyes know how To shoot far more and quicker Rays than thou.

Cinth. Great Queen, they be a Troop for whom alone One of my clearest Moons I have put on; A Troop that looks as if thy self and I Had pluckt our Reins in, and our Whips laid by, To gaze upon these Mortals, that appear Brighter than we.

Night. Then let us keep 'em here, And never more our Chariots drive away, But hold our Places, and out-shine the Day.

Cinth. Great Queen of Shadows, you are pleas'd to speak Of more than may be done; we may not break The Gods decrees, but when our time is come, Must drive away, and give the Day our room. Yet, while our Reign lasts, let us stretch our Pow'r To give our Servants one contented hour, With such unwonted solemn Grace and State, As may for ever after force them hate Our Brother's glorious Beams, and wish the Night Crown'd with a thousand Stars, and our cold Light: For almost all the World their service bend To Phœbus, and in vain my light I lend; Gaz'd on unto my setting from my rise Almost of none, but of unquiet Eyes.

Night. Then shine at full, fair Queen, and by thy pow'r Produce a Birth to crown this happy hour; Of Nymphs and Shepherds let their Songs discover, Easie and sweet, who is a happy Lover; Or if thou woot, then call thine own Endymion, From the sweet Flowry Bed he lies upon, On Latmus top, thy pale Beams drawn away, And of this long Night let him make a Day.

Cinth. Thou dream'st, dark Queen; that fair Boy was not mine, Nor went I down to kiss him; Ease and Wine Have bred these bold Tales: Poets, when they rage, Turn Gods to Men, and make an Hour an Age; But I will give a greater State and Glory, And raise to time a noble Memory Of what these Lovers are: Rise, rise, I say, Thou Pow'r of Deeps, thy Surges laid away, Neptune, great King of Waters, and by me Be proud to be commanded.

[Neptune rises.

Nept. Cinthia, see, Thy word hath fetcht me hither, Let me know Why I ascend.

Cinth. Doth this Majestick Show Give thee no knowledge yet?

Nept. Yes, now I see Something intended (Cinthia) worthy thee; Go on, I'll be a Helper.

Cinth. Hie thee then, And charge the Wind flie from his Rocky Den. Let loose thy Subjects, only Boreas, Too foul for our Intention as he was; Still keep him fast chain'd; we must have none here But vernal Blasts, and gentle Winds appear, Such as blow Flow'rs, and through the glad Boughs sing Many soft welcomes to the lusty Spring.

These are our Musick: Next, thy watry Race Bring on in Couples; we are pleas'd to grace This noble Night, each in their richest things Your own Deeps or the broken Vessel, brings, Be prodigal, and I shall be as kind, And shine at full upon you.

Nept. Ho the Wind!

Enter Eolus out of a Rock.

Commanding Eolus!

Eol. Great Neptune!

Nept. He.

Eol. What is thy will?

Nept. We do command thee free Favonius, and thy milder Winds, to wait Upon our CInthia; but tie Boreas straight; He's too rebellious.

Eol. I shall do it.

Nept. Do, great Master of the Flood, and all below, Thy full command has taken.

Eol. Ho! the Main! Neptune!

Nept. Here.

Eol. Boreas has broke his Chain, And struggling with the rest, has got way.

Nept. Let him alone, I'll take him up at Sea; He will not long be thence; go once again, And call out of the bottoms of the Main, Blue Proteus, and the rest; charge them put on Their greatest Pearls, and the most sparkling Stone The beaten Rock breeds, 'till this Night is done By me a solemn honour to the Moon; Fly, like a full sail.

Eol. I am gone.

Cinth. Dark Night, Strike a full Silence, do a thorough right To this great Chorus, that our MusicK may Touch high as Heav'n, and make the East break Day At Mid-night.

[Musick.

SONG.

Cynthia to thy power and thee, We obey. Joy to this great company, And no Day Come to steal this Night away, Till the Rites of Love are ended, And the lusty Bridegroom say, Welcome Light, of all befriended. Pace out, you watry powers below, Let your feet, Like the Gallies when they row, Even beat. Let your unknown Measures set To the still Winds, tell to all That Gods are come immortal great To honour this great Nuptial.

The Measure. Second Song.

Hold back thy Hours, dark Night, till we have done,

The Day will come too soon; Young Maids will curse thee if thou steal'st away, And leav'st their Blushes open to the Day. Stay, stay, and hide The Blushes of the Bride! Stay, gentle Night, and with thy Darkness cover The Kisses of her lover. Stay, and confound her Tears, and her shrill Cryings, Her weak Denials, Vows, and often Dyings; Stay, and hide all, But help not, though she call.

Nept. Great Queen of us and Heav'n, Hear what I bring to make this hour a full one, If not her measure.

Cinth. Speak, Seas king.

Nept. The tunes my Amphitrite joys to have, When they will dance upon the rising Wave, And court me as the Sails, my Trytons play Musick to lead a Storm, I'll lead the way.

Song. Measure.

To bed, to bed; come Hymen, lead the Bride,

And lay her by her husband's Side: Bring in the Virgins every one, That grieve to lie alone: That they may kiss while they may say, a Maid, To morrow 'twill be other, kist and said: Hesperus be long a shining, Whilst these Lovers are a twining.

Eol. Ho! Neptune!

Nept. Eolus!

Eol. The Seas goes high, Boreas hath rais'd a Storm; go and apply Thy Trident; else I Prophesie, e'er Day Many a tall Ship will be cast away: Descend with all the Gods, and all their power, to strike a Call.

Cinth. A thanks to every one, and to gratulate So great Service done at my desire, Ye shall have many Floods, fuller and higher Than you have wished for; no Ebb shall dare To let the Day see where your dwellings are: Now back unto your Government in haste, Lest your proud Charge should swell above the Waste, And win upon the Island.

Nept. We obey.

[Neptune descends, and the Sea-gods.

Cinth. Hold up thy head, dead Night; see'st thou not Day? The cast begins to lighten: I must down, And give my brother place.

Night. Oh, I could frown To see the Day, the Day that flings his light Upon my kingdom, and contemns old Night! Let him go on and flame! I hope to see Another wild-fire in his axletree; And all fall drench'd. But I forgot; speak, queen, The day grows on; I must no more be seen.

Cinth. Heave up thy drowsy head again, and see A greater light, a greater majesty, Between our set and us! Whip up thy team! The day-break's here, and yon sun-flaring beam Shot from the south. Say, which way wilt thou go?

Night. I'll vanish into Mists.

[Exit.

Cinth. I into day.

[Exit. Finis Mask.

King. Take lights there, Ladies, get the bride to bed; We will not see you laid. Good-night, Amintor, We'll ease you of that tedious Ceremony; Were it my Case, I should think time run slow. If thou be'st noble, youth, get me a boy, That may defend my Kingdom from my Foes.

Amin. All happiness to you.

King. Good night, Melantius.

[Exeunt.

Act II. Scene I.

Act II, Scene I.

Enter Evadne, Aspatia, Dula, and other Ladies.

Dula. MAdam, shall we undress you for this Fight? The Wars are nak'd that you must make to Night.

Evad. You are very merry, Dula.

Dul. I should be merrier, Madam, if it were with me as it is with you.

Evad. Why, how now Wench?

Dula. Come Ladies will you help?

Evad. I am soon undone.

Dula. And as soon done: Good store of cloaths will trouble you at both.

Evad. Art thou drunk, Dula?

Dula. Why here's none but we.

Evad. Thou think'st, belike, there is no Modesty When we are alone.

Dula. Ay by my Troth, you hit my thoughts aright.

Evad. You prick me, Lady.

Dula. 'Tis against my will: Anon you must endure more, and lie still.

You're best to practise.

Evad. Sure, this wench is mad.

Dula. No, 'faith, this is a trick that I have had Since I was fourteen.

Evad. 'Tis high time to leave it.

Dula. Nay, now I'll keep it, till the trick leave me. A dozen wanton words, put in your head, Will make you livelier in your husband's bed.

Evad. Nay, 'faith, then take it.

Dula. Take it, madam? where? We all, I hope, will take it, that are here.

Evad. Nay, then, I'll give you o'er.

Dula. So will I make The ablest man in Rhodes, or his heart ache.

Evad. Wilt take my place to-night?

Dula. I'll hold your cards 'gainst any two I know.

Evad. What wilt thou do?

Dula. Madam, we'll do't, and make 'em leave play too.

Evad. Aspatia, take her part.

Dula. I will refuse it. She will pluck down a side; she does not use it.

Evad. Why, do.

Dula. You will find the play Quickly, because your head lies well that way.

Evad. I thank thee, Dula. 'Would thou could'st instil Some of thy mirth into Aspatia! Nothing but sad thoughts in her breast do dwell: Methinks, a mean betwixt you would do well.

Dula. She is in love: Hang me, if I were so, But I could run my country. I love, too, To do those things that people in love do.

Aspatia. It were a timeless smile should prove my cheek: It were a fitter hour for me to laugh, When at the altar the religious priest Were pacifying the offended powers With sacrifice, than now. This should have been My night; and all your hands have been employed In giving me a spotless offering To young Amintor's bed, as we are now For you. Pardon, Evadne; 'would my worth Were great as yours, or that the king, or he, Or both, thought so! Perhaps he found me worthless: But, till he did so, in these ears of mine, These credulous ears, he pour'd the sweetest words That art or love could frame. If he were false, Pardon it, Heaven! and if I did want Virtue, you safely may forgive that too; For I have lost none that I had from you.

Evad. Nay, leave this sad talk, madam.

Aspatia. Would I could, then should I leave the Cause.

Evad. See if you have not spoil'd all Dulas Mirth.

Asp. Thou think'st thy heart hard; but if thou bee'st caught, remember me; thou shalt perceive a Fire shot suddenly into thee.

Dula. That's not so good; let 'em shoot anything but fire, I fear 'em not.

Asp. Well, wench, thou may'st be taken.

Evad. Ladies good night, I'll do the rest my self.

Dula. Nay, let your lord do some.

Asp. Lay a Garland on my Hearse of the dismal Yew.

Evad. That's one of your sad songs, Madam.

Asp. Believe me, 'tis a very pretty one.

Evad. How is it, Madam?

Song

SONG.

Asp. Lay a Garland on my Hearse of the dismal Yew; Maidens, Willow Branches bear; say I died true: My Love was false, but I was firm from my hour of Birth; Upon my buried Body lie lightly gentle Earth.

Evad. Fie on't Madam, the Words are so strange, they are able to make one Dream of Hobgoblins. I could never have the Power; Sing that, Dula.

Dula. I could never have the Power To Love one above an Hour, But my Heart would prompt mine Eye On some other Man to flie; Venus, fix mine Eyes fast, Or if not, give me all that I shall see at last.

Evad. So, leave me now.

Dula. Nay, we must see you laid.

Asp. Madam good-night, may all the Marriage joys That longing Maids imagine in their Beds, Prove so unto you; may no Discontent Grow 'twixt your Love and you; but if there do, Enquire of me, and I will guide your Moan, Teach you an Artificial way to grieve, To keep your Sorrow waking; love your Lord No worse than I; but if you love so well, Alas, you may displease him, so did I. This is the last Time you shall look on me: Ladies farewel; as soon as I am dead, Come all, and watch one Night about my Hearse; Bring each a Mournful Story, and a Tear, To offer at it when I go to Earth; With flatt'ring Ivy clasp my Coffin round,

Write on my Brow my Fortune, let my bier Be born by Virgins that shall Sing, by course, The Truth of Maids, and Perjuries of Men.

Evad. Alas, I pity thee.

Omnes. Madam, good-night.

1 Lady. Come, we'll let in the Bridegroom.

Dula. Where's my Lord?

1 Lady. Here take this Light.

Enter Amintor.

Dula. You'll find her in the Dark.

1 Lady. Your Lady's scarce a-Bed yet, you must help her.

Asp. Go, and be happy in your Lady's Love; May all the Wrongs that you have done to me Be utterly forgotten, in my Death. I'll trouble you no more, yet I will take A parting Kiss, and will not be deny'd. You'll come, my Lord, and see the Virgins weep When I am laid in Earth, though you your self Can know no Pity: Thus I wind my self Into this Willow Garland, and am prouder That I was once your Love (though now refus'd) Than to have had another true to me. So with my Prayers I leave you, and must try Some, yet unpractis'd, Way to grieve and die.

Dula. Come Ladies, will you go?

Om. Good-night my Lord.

Amin. Much Happiness unto you all. I did that Lady wrong: Methinks I feel Her Grief shoot suddenly through all my Veins; Mine Eyes run; this is strange at such a Time. It was the King first moved me to't, but he Has not my Will in keeping2Why do I Perplex my self thus? Something whispers me, Go not to Bed. My Guilt is not so great As mine own Conscience (too sensible) Would make me think; I only break a Promise, And 'twas the King that forc'd me: Timorous Flesh, Why shak'st thou so? away my idle Fears.

Enter Evadne.

Yonder she is, the Lustre of whose Eye

Can blot away the sad Remembrance Of all these things: Oh my Evadne, spare That tender Body, let it not take Cold; The Vapours of the Night will not fall here. To Bed, my Love; Hymen will punish us For being slack Performers of his Rites. Cam'st thou to call me?