Calis. Thou art not well.
Clean. Your grace sees more a great deal
Than I feel, (yet I lye) O Brother!
Cal. Mark her,
Is not the quickness of her eye consumed, wench?
The lively red and white?
Lucip. Nay she is much alter'd,
That on my understanding, all her sleeps Lady
Which were as sound and sweet—
Cle. Pray do not force me,
Good Madam, where I am not, to be ill,
Conceit's a double sickness; on my faith your highness
Is meer mistaken in me. { A Dead March within
of Drum and Sagbutts
Cal. I am glad on't.
Yet this I have ever noted when thou wast thus,
It still forerun some strange event: my Sister
Died when thou wast thus last: hark hark, ho,
What mournfull noise is this comes creeping forward?
Still it grows nearer, nearer, do ye hear it?
Enter Polydor, and Captains, Eumenes mourning.
Lucip. It seems some Souldiers funeral: see it enters.
C[a]l. What may it mean?
Pol. The Gods keep ye fair Calis.
Cal. This man can speak, and well; he stands and views us;
Wou'd I were ne'r worse look't upon: how humbly
His eyes are cast now to the Earth! pray mark him
And mark how rarely he has rankt his troubles:
See now he weeps, they all weep; a sweeter sorrow
I never look't upon, nor one that braver
Became his grief; your will with us?
Pol. Great Lady, [Plucks out the Cup.
Excellent beauty.
Cal. He speaks handsomely.
What a rare rhetorician his grief plaies!
That stop was admirable.
Pol. See, see thou Princess,
Thou great commander of all hearts.
Cal. I have found it,
O how my soul shakes!
Pol. See, see the noble heart
Of him that was the noblest: see and glory
(Like the proud God himself) in what thou hast purchas'd,
Behold the heart of Memnon: does it start ye?
Cal. Good gods, what has his wildness done?
Pol. Look boldlie,
You boldlie said you durst, look wretched woman,
Nay flie not back fair follie, 'tis too late now,
Vertue and blooming honour bleed to death here,
Take it, the Legacie of Love bequeath'd ye,
Of cruel Love a cruel Legacie;
What was the will that wrought it then? can ye weep?
Imbalm it in your truest tears
If women can weep a truth, or ever sorrow sunk yet
Into the soul of your sex, for 'tis a Jewel
The worlds worth cannot weigh down,
Take it Lady; And with it all (I dare not curse) my sorrows,
And may they turn to Serpents.
Eumen. How she looks
Still upon him! see now a tear steals from her.
2 Capt. But still she keeps her eye firm.
Pol. Next read this,
But since I see your spirit somewhat troubled
I'le doe it for ye.
2 Capt. Still she eyes him mainlie.
Goe happy heart for thou shalt lye
Intomb'd in her for whom I dye
Example of her cruelty.
Tell her if she chance to chide
Me for slowness in her pride
That it was for her I died.
If a tear escape her eye
'Tis not for my memory
But thy rights of obsequy.
The Altar was my loving breast,
My heart the sacrificed beast,
And I was my self the Priest.
Your body was the sacred shrine,
Your cruel mind the power divine
Pleas'd with hearts of men, not kine.
Eumen. Now it pours down.
Pol. I like it rarelie: Ladie.
Eumen. How greedily she swallows up his language!
2 Capt. Her eye inhabits on him.
Pol. Cruel Ladie,
Great as your beautie scornfull; had your power
But equal poise on all hearts, all hearts perish't;
But Cupid has more shafts than one, more flames too,
And now he must be open ey'd, 'tis Justice:
Live to injoy your longing; live and laugh at
The losses and the miseries we suffer;
Live to be spoken when your crueltie
Has cut off all the vertue from this Kingdom,
Turn'd honour into earth, and faithful service.
Cal. I swear his anger's excellent.
Pol. Truth, and most tried love
Into disdain and downfall.
Calis. Still more pleasing.
Pol. Live then I say famous for civil slaughters,
Live and lay out your triumphs, gild your glories,
Live and be spoken this is she, this Ladie,
This goodly Ladie, yet most killing beautie;
This with the two edg'd eyes, the heart for hardness
Outdoing rocks; and coldness, rocks of Crystal.
This with the swelling soul, more coy of Courtship
Than the proud sea is when the shores embrace him;
Live till the mothers find ye, read your story,
And sow their barren curses on your beauty,
Till those that have enjoy'd their loves despise ye,
Till Virgins pray against ye, old age find ye,
And even as wasted coals glow in their dying,
So may the Gods reward ye in your ashes:
But y'are the Sister of my King; more prophecies
Else I should utter of ye, true loves and loyal
Bless themselves ever from ye: so I leave ye.
Cal. Prethee be angry still young man: good fair Sir
Chide me again, what wou'd this man doe pleas'd,
That in his passion can bewitch souls? stay.
Eumen. Upon my life she loves him.
Calis. Pray stay.
Pol. No.
Cal. I do command ye.
Pol. No, ye cannot Ladie,
I have a spell against ye, Faith and Reason,
Ye are too weak to reach me: I have a heart too,
But not for hawks meat Ladie.
Cal. Even for Charity
Leave me not thus afflicted: you can teach me.
Pol. How can you Preach that Charity to others
That in your own soul are an Atheist,
Believing neither power nor fear? I trouble ye,
The Gods be good unto ye.
Cal. Amen.
Lucip. Ladie. [She Swounds.
C[l]e. O royal Madam, Gentlemen for heaven sake. { They
come
back.
Pol. Give her fresh air, she comes again: away sirs
And here stand close till we perceive the working.
Eumen. Ye have undone all.
Pol. So I fear.
2 Capt. She loves ye.
Eumen. And then all hopes lost this way.
Pol. Peace she rises.
Clean. Now for my purpose Fortune.
Calis. Where's the Gentleman?
Lucip. Gone Madam.
Calis. Why gone?
Lucip. H'as dispatch't his business.
Calis. He came to speak with me,
He did.
Clean. He did not.
Calis. For I had many questions.
Lucip. On my Faith Madam, he
Talk't a great while to ye.
Calis. Thou conceiv'st not,
He talk't not as he should doe; O my heart
Away with that sad sight; didst thou e're love me?
Lucip. Why do you make that question?
Calis. If thou didst
Run, run wench, run: nay see how thou stir'st.
Lucip. Whither?
Calis. If 'twere for any thing to please thy self
Thou woud'st run toth' devil: but I am grown—
Clean. Fie Lady.
Cal. I ask none of your fortunes, nor your loves,
None of your bent desires I slack, ye are not
In love with all men, are ye? one for shame
You will leave your honour'd mistris? why do ye stare so?
What is that ye see about me, tell me?
Lord what am I become? I am not wilde sure,
Heaven keep that from me: O Cleanthe help me,
Or I am sunk to death.
Cle. Ye have offended and mightily, love is incenst against ye,
And therefore take my Counsel, to the Temple,
For that's the speediest physick: before the Goddess
Give your repentant prayers: ask her will,
And from the Oracle attend your sentence,
She is milde and mercifull.
Calis. I will: O Venus
Even as thou lov'st thy self!
Clean. Now for my fortune. [Exeunt Cal. and women.
Pol. What shall I doe?
1 Capt. Why make your self.
Pol. I dare not,
No Gentlemen, I dare not be a villain,
Though her bright beauty would entice an Angel.
I will toth' King my last hope: get him a woman
As we before concluded: and as ye pass
Give out the Spartans are in arms; and terrible;
And let some letters to that end be feign'd too
And sent to you, some Posts too, to the General;
And let me work: be ne're him still.
Eumen. We will Sir.
Pol. Farewel: and pray for all: what e're I will ye
Doe it, and hope a fair end.
Eumen. The Gods speed ye. [Exeunt.
Enter Stremon, Fool, Boy, and Servants.
Servants. He lies quiet.
Strem. Let him lye, and as I told ye
Make ready for this shew: h'as divers times
Been calling upon Orpheus to appear
And shew the joyes: now I will be that Orpheus,
And as I play and sing, like beasts and trees
I wou'd have you shap't and enter: thou a Dog, fool,
I have sent about your sutes: the Boy a bush,
An Ass you, you a Lion.
Fool. I a Dog?
I'le fit you for a Dog. Bow wow.
Strem. 'Tis excellent,
Steal in and make no noise.
Fool. Bow wow.
Strem. Away Rogue. [Exeunt.
Priest. Good sweet friend be not long.
Chi. Thou think'st each hour ten
Till I be ferreting.
Prie. You know I love ye.
Chi. I will not be above an hour; let thy robe be readie
And the door be kept. { Knock. Cleanthe
knocks within.
Prie. Who knocks there?
Yet more business?
Enter Cleanthe.