The Maid's Tragedy Altered

Front matter

M of the following Pieces, being unfinish'd, were never intended to be publish'd; but that a Person, who had borrowed a Manuscript Copy of them, took upon him to print them. The Copy from which they were printed, was very Imperfect; and there being noe means left to suppress them, it was thought fit to suffer them to be more correctly printed from the last and truest Copies.

The Maid's Tragedy Altered

THE

MAIDS TRAGEDY,

Alter'd By

Mr. WALLER.

Prologue

PROLOGUE.

Scarce should we have the boldness to pretend So long renown'd a Tragedy to mend: Had not already some deserv'd your praise With like attempt. Of all our elder Plays, This and Philaster have the lowdest fame: Great are their Faults, and glorious is their Flame. In both our English Genius is exprest; Lofty and bold, but negligently, drest. Above our Neighbours our Conceptions are: But faultless Writing is th' effect of Care. Our Lines reform'd, and not compos'd in haste; Polisht like Marble, would like Marble last. But as the present, so the last Age writ; In both we find like negligence and wit.

Were we but less indulgent to our faults, And patience had to cultivate our thoughts: Our Muse would flourish, and a nobler rage Would honour this, than did the Græcian Stage. Thus says our Author, not content to see That Others write as carlesly as He. Tho he pretends not to make things compleat; Yet to please You, he'd have the Poets sweat. In this old Play, what's new we have exprest In rhiming Verse, distinguish'd from the rest: That, as the Roan its hasty way does make, Not mingling Waters, thro Genevas Lake: So having here the differeut stiles in view, You may compare the former with the new. If we less rudely shall the Knot unty, Soften the rigour of the Tragedy: And yet preserve each persons character: Then to the Other, This you may prefer.

'Tis left to you: the Boxes and the Pit, Are soveraign Judges of this sort of Wit. In other things the knowing Artist may Judge better than the people: but a Play, Made for delight, and for no other use, If you approve it not, has no excuse.

Erratum

The Maid's Tragedy

Enter Evadne, with a Page of Honour.

A Mintor lost, it were as vain a thing, As 'tis prodigious, to destroy the King. Compell'd by Threats, to take that bloody Oath, And the Act ill, I am absolv'd by both. This Island left with pitty I'll look down On the King's Love, and fierce Melantiuss frown. These will to both my resolution bring: Page, give Melantius that, this to the King.

Under how hard a fate are Women born! Priz'd to their ruine, or expos'd to scorn! If we want Beauty, we of Love despair; And are besieg'd like Frontier Towns, if fair.

The pow'r of Princes Armies overthrows: What can our Sex against such force oppose? Love and Ambition have an equal share In their vast Treasures; and it costs as dear To ruine us, as Nations to subdue: But we are faulty, tho all this be true. For Towns are starv'd, or batter'd e're they yield; But We perswaded rather than compell'd: For things superfluous neglect our Fame, And weakly render up our selves to shame. Oh! that I had my Innocence again, My untoucht Honour: but I wish in vain. The Fleece, that has been by the Dyer stain'd, Never again its native whiteness gain'd. Th' unblemisht may pretend to virtue's Crown: 'Tis Beauty now must perfect my renown. With that I govern'd him that Rules this Isle; 'Tis that which makes me tryumph ,

The Wealth I bear from this exhausted Court, Which here my Bark stands ready to transport. In narrow Rhodes I'll be no longer pent; But act my part upon the Continent: Asiatick Kings shall see my Beauties Prize, My shining Jewels, and my brighter Eyes. Princes that fly, their Scepters left behind, Contempt or Pitty, where they travel, find: The Ensigns of our Power about we bear; And every Land pays Tribute to the Fair. So shines the Sun, tho hence remov'd, as clear When his Beams warm th' Antipodes, as here.

<>Enter Melantius, with a Letter in his hand.

to perish, if the Gods be just; The Sea's not vast enough to quench her Lust. The standing Regiments, the Fort, the Town, All but this wicked Sister is our own.

Oh! that I could but have supriz'd the Wretch, E're she that Watry Element did reach. Twice false Evadne; spightfully forsworn, That fatal Beast like this I would have torn.

But this design admits of no delay; And our Revenge must find some speedy way. I'll sound Lucippus, he has always paid Respect to my deserts: could he be made To joyn with us, we might preserve the State; And take revenge, without our Countrys fate. He loves his Brother; but a present Crown Cannot but tempt a Prince so near the Throne. He's full of Honour: tho he like it not, If once he swear, he'll not reveal the Plot. <>Enters the King alone. King. Melantius false! it cannot be: and yet, When I remember how I merit it,

He is presented to my guilty mind Less to his Duty, than Revenge inclin'd. 'Tis not my nature to suspect my friends, Or think they can have black malicious ends: 'Tis doing wrong creates such doubts as these, Renders us jealous, and destroys our peace. Happy the Innocent, whose equal thoughts Are free from anguish, as they are from faults.

<>Enter a Page with a Letter.

Page. 'Tis from Evadne, Sir.

King. Why should she use Her Pen to me? 'tis some important news!

<>Reads the Lettter.

<>From aboard my Yacht.

>>[Strangely dated.]

Which is now bearing me away from the rage of my offended Brothers: I wish you were as safe from their Revenge. They aim at your Life, and made me swear to take it. They have got the Fort, and are assured of the Inclinations, both of the Soldiers and Citizens. My first Prayer is to the Gods, for your Preservation: my next to your Majesty, that if they return to their Duty, you would afford them your Grace.

'Tis no fain'd tale Callianax has told; The Great Melantius is as false as bold. The Crown we hazard, when at home we stay, And teach our forces others to obey. Conduct of Armies is a Princes Art: And when a Subject acts that Royal Part; As he in Glory rises we grow less: While our Arms prosper, ruin'd by success.

For in a Court what can so dreadful be, As one more glorious than our selves to see! <>Enter Melantius and Lucippus. Such is the General: to Lucippus Ear, What 'tis he trusts, I'll step aside and hear.

Lucipp. How am I caught with an unwary Oath, Not to reveal the secret, which I loath! To stain my Conscience with my Brother's blood, To be a King! No, not to be a God. He that with patience can such Treason hear, Tho he consent not, has a Guilty Ear. Unto thy self pronounce the name of King; That word will keep thee from so foul a thing.

Mel. Sir, your fond care and kindness comes too late, To save your Brother, or prevent my hate: The People mutiny, the Fort is mine, And all the Soldiers to my will incline.

Of his own Servants he has lost the Heart, And in the Court I have the nobler part. Unto your self pronounce the name of King; That word will tell you 'tis no trivial thing That you are offer'd: Do not storm and frown At my endeavours to preserve the Crown. Wear it your self; occasion will not stay; Tis lost, unless you take it while you may. Tumult and ruine will o'rewhelm the State; And you'll be guilty of your Country's fate.

Luc. aside. Some form'd design against the King is laid, Let's try how far our reason may perswade. To him. The Crown you value so, my Brother bears Upon his Head, and with it all the cares; While I enjoy th'advantage of his State, And all the Crown can give, except the weight. Long may he Reign, that is so far above All Vice, all Passion, but excess of Love.

And can th'effects of Love appear so strange, That into Beasts our greatest Gods could change?

Mel. The deathless Gods, when they commit a Rape, Disguis'd a while, again resume their Shape: But Princes once turn'd into Beasts, remain For ever so; and should, like Beasts be slain.

Luc. Tho more in years, you have a Mistress still; And for that fault would you your Soveraign kill? Love is the frailty of Heroic minds; And where great Vertues are, our pardon finds. Brutes may be Chast; Pidgeons, Swans and Doves, Are more confin'd, than we are, in their Loves. Justice and Bounty, in a Prince, are things That Subjects make as happy as their Kings. Will you contract the guilt of Royal Blood? And rob your Country of her chiefest good?

Mel. Of one, whose Lust his Family has stain'd, By whose good Conduct he securely reign'd.

Luc. Of one, whose choice first made your Valour known, And with whose Armies you have got renown. 'Tis all the gratitude Subjects can shew, To bear with Patience what their Princes do.

Mel. Yet Brutus did not let proud Tarquin scape.

Luc. The Prince his Son was guilty of a Rape. For Joys extorted with a violent hand, Revenge is just, and may with honour stand. But should a Prince, because he does comply With one, that's fair and not unwilling, dye? Or is it fit the people should be taught Your Sisters frailty, with my Brothers fault?

Mel. Let her be known unchast; so it be said, That he that durst perswade her to't is dead.

Luc. The King has wrong'd you: Is it just that you Mischief to me and the whole Nation do?

Mel. Rather than not accomplish my Revenge, Just, or unjust, I would the World unhinge.

Luc. Yet of all Vertues, Justice is the best: Valour, without it, is a common Pest. Pirates and Thieves, too oft with Courage grac'd, Shew us how ill that Vertue may be plac'd. 'Tis our complexion makes us chast or brave; Justice from Reason, and from Heav'n we have. All other Vertues dwell but in the blood, That in the Soul, and gives the name of good. Justice, the Queen of Vertues, you despise, And only rude and savage Valour prize. To your revenge you think the King and all That Sacred is, a Sacrifice should fall: The Town be ruin'd, and this Isle laid wast, Only because your Sister is not chast. Can you expect, that she should be so sage To rule her blood, and you not rule your rage?

Both foul distempers are; but yours the worse, Less pleasure has, and brings the greater curse.

Mel. In idle Rhodes Philsophers are bred, And you, young Prince, are in their Morals read. Nor is it hard for one that feels no wrong, For patient duty to employ his Tongue. Oppression makes men mad, and from their breast, All reason does, and sense of duty wrest. The Gods are safe, when under wrongs we groan, Only because we cannot reach their Throne. Shall Princes then, that are but Gods of clay, Think they may safely with our honour play? Reward a Soldiers Merit with a stain To his whole Race, and yet securely Reign? Farewel! I know so brave a Prince will scorn To tell the secret, unto which he's sworn.

Luc. aside. I promis'd Secrecy, but did not say I would look tamely on. Melantius stay:

You have my Promise, and my hasty word Restrains my Tongue, but tyes not up my Sword. Of other Vertues tho you are bereft By your wild rage, I know your Valour's left. Swear not to touch my Brother, or with speed Behind the Castle-wall let's meet. Mel. Agreed. >>Exit Lucip.

Mel. His well-known Vertue, and his constant Love, To his bad Brother may the people move: I'll take the occasion, which he gives, to bring Him to his Death, and then destroy the King.

<>Enter the King as discovering himself.

King. O! what an happiness it is to find A friend of our own blood, a Brother kind! A Prince so good, so just, so void of fear, Is of more value than the Crown I wear.

The Kingdom offer'd if he would engage, He has refus'd with a becoming rage. For such a Brother, to th'immortal God More thanks I owe, then for the Crown of Rhodes. Happy this Isle, with such a Hero blest! What Vertue dwells not in his Loyal Breast?

<>Enter Strato.

Str. Sir we are lost, Melantius has the Fort, And the Town rises to assault the Court: Where they will find the strongest part their own: If you'll preserve your self, you must be gone. I have a Garden opens to the Sea, From whence I can your Majesty convey To some near friend.

King. There with your Shallop stay. The Game's not lost; I have one Card to play. Suffer not Diphilus to leave the Court, But bid him presently to me resort.

Had not this Challenge stopt the impendent fate, We must have perisht with the ruin'd State. Forts, Soldiers, Citizens, of all bereft, There's nothing but our private Valour left: If he survive, I have not long to Reign; But he that's injur'd, should be fairly slain. The people for their Darling would repine; If he should fall by any hand, but mine. Less wise than valiant, the vain man is gone To fight a Duel, when his work was done. Should I command my Guards to find him, where He meets my Brother, and destroy him there: All hope of Peace would be for ever lost; And the wild Rabble would adore his Ghost. Dead, than alive, he would do greater harm, And the whole Island, to revenge him, arm. So popular, so mighty have I made This fighting man, while I liv'd in the Shade.

But 'twas a double fault, to raise him so; And then dishonour on his house to throw. Ill govern'd passions in a Princes Breast, Hazard his private, and the publick rest. Slaves to our Passions we become, and then It grows impossible to govern Men. But Errors not to be recall'd, do find Their best redress from presence of the mind. Courage our greatest failings does supply, And makes all good, or handsomely we dye. Life is a thing of common use, by Heav'n As well to Insects as to Princes giv'n. But, for the Crown, 'tis a more sacred thing: I'll dying lose it, or I'll live a King. <>Enter Diphilus. Come, Diphilus, we must together walk, And of a matter of importance talk.

Diph. aside. What fate is this! had he stay'd half an hour, The rising Town had freed me from his Power.

<>Scene changes into a Field: Into which enter Lucip­pus <>and Melantius, with Swords drawn.

Mel. Be yet advis'd, th'injurious King forsake; Death, or a Scepter from Melantius take.

Lucip. Be thou advis'd, thy black design forsake; Death, or this Counsel from Lucippus take.

Mel. Youth and vain confidence thy life betray: Thro Armies this has made Melantius way.

Lucip. Drawn for your Prince that Sworn could wonders do; The better Cause makes mine the sharper now. Thy brutal anger does the Gods defy; are their care: resume thy Loyalty:

Or from thy guilty Head I'll pluck the Bays, And all thy Triumphs shall become my praise.

Mel. That shall be quickly try'd.

<>Enter the King with Diphilus.

King. With Sword in hand, Like a good Brother, by your Brother stand.

Diph. Glad that your pleasure lies this noble way; I never did more willingly obey.

King. Thy Life, Melantius, I am come to take, Of which foul Treason does a forfeit make. To do Thee honour, I will shed that blood, Which the just Laws, if I were faultless, should.

Mel. 'Tis bravely urg'd, Sir; but, their Guards away, Kings have but small advantage of the Law.

King. Having infring'd the Law, I wave my right As King, and thus submit my self to fight. Why did not you your own fierce hand employ, As I do mine, and tell the reason why?

A Subject should be heard before he's And does less right belong to us that Reign?

Mel. If, as unjust, I could have thought you brave, This way I chosen had Revenge to have. A way so noble; that I must confess, Already I begin to hate you less. So unexpected and so brave a thing, Makes me that you are my King. And I could rather be contented, since He challeng'd first, to combat with that Prince. That so, a Brother for a Sister chang'd, We may be of your wanton Pride reveng'd.

King. 'Twas I that wrong'd you, you my Life have sought; No Duel ever was more justly fought. We both have reason for our fatal wrath: Nor is it fit the World should hold us both.

Lucippus to the King apart.

Me for what nobler use can you reserve, Than thus the Crown from danger to preserve? Members expose themselves, to save the Head: This way he shall be satisfy'd, or dead. Melantius to his Brother apart. Tho foul Injustice Majesty did stain, This noble carriage makes it bright again. When Kings with Courage act, sometthing divine That calls for Reverence, does about them shine.

Diph. Were we born Princes, we could not expect, For an affront receiv'd, greater respect. They that with sharpest Injuries are stung, If fairly fought withal, forget the wrong. A thousand pitties, such a Royal pair Should run this hazard for a wanton fair.

Mel. Let us sight so, as to avoid th' extream Either of fearing, or of killing them.

Lucippus apart to his Brother. Sir, you should wield a Scepter, not a Sword; Nor with your Weapon kill, but with your Word. The Gods by others execute their will.

K. Yet Heav'n does oft with its own Thunder kill:

And when Necessity and Right command, A Sword is Thunder in a Soveraign's hand. Let us dispatch, lest any find us here, Before we fight; or they grow less severe.

<>Here they all Fight.

Lucippus to the King. Hold Sir, they only guard, and still give place To them. Fight us, as Enemies, or ask for Grace.

Mel. I never thought I could expedient see, On this side death, to right our Family. The Royal Sword thus drawn, has cur'd a wound For which no other Salve could have been found.

Your Brothers now in Arms our selves we boast, As satisfaction for a Sister lost. The blood of Kings expos'd, washes a stain Cleaner, than thousands of the Vulgar slain. You have our pardon, Sir; and humbly now, As Subjects ought, we beg the same of you. <>Here they both kneel. Pardon our guilty Rage; which here takes end, For a lost Sister, and a ruin'd Friend.

Luc. Let your great heart a gracious motion feel: Is't not enough, you see Melantius kneel? I'll be a pledge for both; they shall be true As heretofore; and you shall trust 'em too. His Loyal Arm shall still support the State, And you no more provoke so just an hate.

King. Rise, brave Melantius, I thy pardon sign, With as much Joy, as I am proud of mine.

Rise, Valiant Diphilus, I hope you'll both Forget my fault, as I shall your just wrath.

Diph. Valour reveal'd in Princes does redeem Their greatest faults, and crowns them with esteem, Use us with Honour, and we are your Slaves, To bleed for you, when least occasion craves.

King. With Honour and with Trust this Land shall know, After my Brother, none so great as you.

<>Enter the Kings Guards.

Mel. If these approach us, Sir, by your command; Take back your Pardon, on our guard we stand.

<>The King steps between 'em.

King. What over-diligence has brought you here?

Captain of the Guards. Such as you'll pardon when the News you hear

Amintor is retir'd, Aspasia gone; And a strange humour does possess the Town. They arm apace, Sir, and aloud declare Things which we dare not whisper in your Ear. The Council met, your Guards to find you sent, And know your pleasure in this Exigent. This honour'd person you might justly fear, Were he not Loyal, and amongst us here. They say his merit's ill return'd, and cry, With great Melantius they will live and dye.

Mel. Sir, not your Pow'r, but Vertue made me bow; For all he tells you, I did kneeling know. Tho now the faithful'st of your Subjects, we Have been the cause of all this Mutiny. Go comfort, Sir, Amintor, while we run To stop the rage of this revolting Town;

And let them know the happiness they have In such a Royal pair, so just, so brave. Lend me your Guards, that if perswasion fail, Force may against the Mutinous prevail.

K. to the Guards. Go, and obey, with as exact a care, All his commands, as if our self were there. Aside. He that depends upon another, must Oblige his Honour with a boundless trust. >>Exeunt King and Lucippus.

Mel. How frail is Man! how quickly changed are Our wrath and fury to a Loyal care! This drawn but now against my Soveraigns Breast, Before 'tis sheath'd, shall give him peace and rest. >>Exeunt Brothers and Guards.

<>The Scene changes into a Forest.

<>Enter Aspasia. Asp. They say, wild Beasts inhabit here; But Grief and Wrong secures my Fear. Compar'd to him that does refuse, A Tyger's kind, for he pursues. To be forsaken's worse than torn; And Death a lesser ill than Scorn. No Forrest, Cave, or Savage Den Holds more pernicious Beasts than Men. Vows, Oaths, and Contracts they devise, And tell us, they are sacred Tyes: And so they are in our esteem; But empty Names, despis'd by them. Women with study'd Arts they vex: Ye Gods destroy that impious Sex.

And if there must be some to' invoke Your Powers, and make your Altars smoke, Come down your selves, and in their place Get a more Just and Nobler Race: Such as the Old World did adorn, When Hero's like your selves were born. But this I wish not for Aspacias sake; For she no God would for Amintor take. The Heart, which is our Passions Seat, Whether we will or no do's beat: And yet we may suppress our Breath: This let's us see that Life and Death Are in our Power; but Love and Hate, Depend not on our Will, but Fate. My Love was Lawful, when 'twas born; Their Marriage makes it merit Scorn. Evadnes Husband 'tis a Fault To Love, a blemish to my thought;

Yet twisted with my Life; and I That cannot faultless live, will dye. Oh! that some hungry Beast would come, And make himself Aspasias Tomb. If none accept me for a Prey, Death must be found some other way. In colder Regions Men compose Poyson with Art; but here it grows. Not long since; walking in the Field, My Nurse and I, we there beheld A goodly fruit; which tempting me, I would have pluck'd; but trembling she, Whoever eat those Berries, cry'd, In less than half an hour dy'd. Some God direct me to that Bough, On which those useful Berries grow! >>Exit.

<>Enter Amintor alone.

Am. Repentance, which became Evadne so, Would no less handsome in Amintor show. She ask'd me pardon; but Aspasia I, Injur'd alike, suffer to pine and dye. 'Tis said, that she this dangerous Forrest haunts, And in sad accents utters her complaints. If over-taken, e're she perish, I Will gain her Pardon, or before her dye. Not every Lady does from Vertue fall; Th' Injurious King does not possess them all. Well I deserv'd Evadnes scorn to prove, That to Ambition sacrific'd my Love. Fools that consult their Avarice or Pride! To chuse a Wife, Love is our noblest Guide. >>>Exit.

<>Enter Aspasia alone, with a Bough full of fair Berries

Asp. This happy Bough shall give relief, Not to my hunger, but my grief.

The Birds know how to chuse their fare, To peck this fruit they all forbear. Those chearful Singers know not why They should make any haste to dye: And yet they Couple——Can they know What 'tis to Love, and not know Sorrow too? 'Tis Man alone, that willing dyes; Beasts are less Wretched, or less Wise. How Lovely these ill Berries shew! And so did false Amintor too. Heav'n would ensnare us! who can scape When fatal things have such a shape? Nothing in vain the Gods create, This Bough was made to hasten fate. 'Twas in compassion of our woe, That Nature first made Poysons grow; For hopeless wretches, such as I, Kindly providing means to dye.

As Mothers do their Children keep, So Nature feeds, and makes us sleep: The indispos'd she does invite To go to Bed before 'tis night. Death always is to come, or past: If it be ill, it cannot last. Sure 'tis a thing was never known; For when that's present, we are gone. 'Tis an imaginary Line, Which does our being here confine. Dead we shall be, as when unborn; And then I knew nor Love, nor Scorn. But say we are to live elsewhere, >>> What has the Innocent to fear? Can I be treated worse than here? Justice from hence long since is gone, And reigns where I shall be anon.

<>Enter Amintor.

Am. 'Tis she; those fatal Berries shew The mischief she's about to do. Women are govern'd by a stuborn fate: Their Love's insuperable, as their hate. No Merit their Aversion can remove; Nor ill requital can efface their Love.

Asp. Like Slaves redeem'd, Death sets us free From Passion, and from Injury. The Living chain'd to Fortunes Wheel, In Triumph led, her changes feel: And Conquerors kept Poysons by, Prepar'd for her Inconstancy. Bays against Thunder might defend their Brow: But against Love and Fortune here's the Bough. Here she puts some of the Berries to her mouth,

<>Amintor, strikes the Berries out of her hand, and <>snatches the Bough.

Am. Rash Maid, forbear; and lay those Berries by, Or give them him that has deserv'd to dye.

Asp. What double Cruelty is this? Would you That made me wretched, keep me always so? Evadne has you: let Aspasia have The common refuge of a quiet grave. If you have kindness left, there see me laid: To bury decently the injur'd Maid, Is all the favour that you can bestow, Or I receive—Pray render me my Bough.

Am. No less than you, was your Amintor wrong'd: The false Evadne to the King belong'd. You had my promise, and my Bed is free; I may be yours, if you can pardon me.

Asp. Your Vows to her were in the Temple made; The sacred Altar witness'd what you said.

Am. The pow'rs above are to no place consin'd, But ev'ry where hear promises that bind.

The Heav'n, the Air, Earth, and the boundless Sea, Make but one Temple for the Deity. That was a Witness to my former Vow: None can Amintor justly claim, but you. Who gives himself away the second time, Creates no title, but commits a Crime.

Asp. I could have dy'd but once; but this believ'd I may (alas!) be more than once deceiv'd. Death was the Port, which I almost did gain, Shall I once more be tost into the Main? By what new Gods, Amintor, will you swear?

Am. By the same Gods, that have been so severe; By the same Gods, the justice of whose Wrath Punish'd the infraction of my former faith. May every Lady an Evadne prove, That shall divert me from Aspasias Love.

Asp. If ever you should prove unconstant now; I shall remember where those Berries grow.

Am. My Love was always constant; but the King, Melantiuss friendship, and that fatal thing Ambition, me on proud Evadne threw; And made me cruel to my self, and you. But if you still distrust my faith, I vow Here in your presence I'll devour the Bough.

Asp. Snatching the Bough from him. Rash Man, forbear! but for some unbelief, My Joy had been as fatal as my Grief: The sudden news of unexpected bliss, Would yet have made a Tragedy of this. Secure of my Amintor, still I fear Evadnes mighty friend, the King. Am. He's here.

<>Enter the King, and his Brother, to them.

King, turning to his Brother. How shall I look upon that noble Youth, So full of Patience, Loyalty, and Truth?

The fair Aspasia I have injur'd too, The guilty author of their double woe. ClermontTitlepageMy gone, and reason in her Throne, Amaz'd I see the mischiefs I have done. After a Tempest, when the Winds are laid, The calm Sea wonders at the wrecks it made.

Am. Men wrong'd by Kings impute it to their fate, And Royal kindness never comes too late: So when Heav'n frowns, we think our anger vain; Joyful and thankful when it smiles again. Taking Aspasia by the hand. This knot you broke, be pleas'd again to bind, And we shall both forget you were unkind.

King. May you be happy, and your sorrows past, Set off those Joys I wish may ever last. Giving the Letter. Read this Amintor. Am. Evadne fled! Aspasia now You'll have no more occasion for your Bough.

<>Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Melantius, Sir, has let the people know How just you are, and how he's grac'd by you. The Town's appeas'd, and all the air does ring With repetitions of Long live the King.