Chapter IV (1)

_Pant._ _Oh man or beast, or you at least,_
_That wear or brow or antler,_
_Prick up your ears, unto the tears_
_Of me poor_ Paul _the Pantler,_
_That thus am clipt, because I chipt_
_The cursed Crust of Treason_
_With Loyal Knife; Oh doleful strife,_
_To hang thus without reason._

_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._

_Enter_ Aubrey, _and_ Latorch.

_Aub._ _Latorch_, I have waited here to speak with you,
And you must hearken; set not forth your leg
Of haste, nor put your face of business on;
An honester affair than this I urge too,
You will not easily think on; and 'twill be
Reward to entertain it; 'tis your fortune
To have our Masters ear above the rest
Of us that follow him, but that no man envies;
For I have well considered, Truth sometimes
May be convey'd in by the same Conduits
That Falshood is; These courses that he takes
Cannot but end in ruine; Empire got
By blood and violence, must so be held;
And how unsafe that is, he first will prove,
That toiling still to remove Enemies
Makes himself more; It is not now a Brother,
A faithful Councellour of estate or two,
That are his danger, they are far dispatch'd;
It is a multitude that begin to fear,
And think what began there must end in them;
For all the fine Oration that was made 'em,
And they are not an easie Monster quell'd.
Princes may pick their suffering Nobles out;
And one by one employ 'em to the block; but when they
once grow formidable to their Clowns, and Coblers, ware
then, guard themselves; if thou durst tell him this, _Latorch_,
the service would not discredit the good name you hold with
men, besides the profit to your Master, and the publick.

_Lat._ I conceive not so, Sir:
They are airy fears; and why should I object them unto his fancy?
Wound what is yet sound? your counsels colour not,
With reason of state, where all that's necessary still is just.
The actions of the Prince, while they succeed,
Should be made good, and glorified; not question'd.
Men do but shew their ill affections, that--

_Aub._ What? speak out.

_Lat._ Do murmur against their Masters.

_Aub._ Is this to me?

_Lat._ It is to whosoever mislikes of the Dukes courses.

_Aub._ I! is't so? at your stateward, Sir?

_Lat._ I'm sworn to hear nothing may prejudice the Prince.

_Aub._ Why do you? or have you, ha?

_Lat._ I cannot tell, mens hearts shew in their words sometimes.

_Aub._ I ever thought thee
Knave of the Chamber, art thou the Spye too?

_Lat._ A watchman for the State, and one that's known,
Sir, to be rightly affected.

_Aub._ Bawd of the State;
No less than of thy masters lusts. I now
See nothing can redeem thee; dost thou mention
Affection, or a Heart, that ne'r hadst any?
Knowst not to love or hate, but by the State,
As thy Prince does't before thee? that dost never
Wear thy own face, but put'st on his, and gather'st
Baits for his Ears: liv'st wholly at his beck,
And e're thou dar'st utter a thought's thine own,
Must expect his; creep'st forth and wad'st into him
As if thou wert to pass a Ford, there proving
Yet if thy tongue may step on safely or no;
Then bring'st his vertue asleep, and stay'st the wheel
Both of his reason and judgment, that they move not,
Whit'st over all his vices; and at last
Dost draw a Cloud of words before his eyes,
Till he can neither see thee nor himself?
Wretch, I dare give him honest counsels, I,
And love him while I tell him truth; old _Aubrey_
Dares goe the straightest way, which still's the shortest,
Walk on the thorns thou scatter'st, Parasite,
And tread 'em into nothing: and if thou
Then let'st a look fall, of the least dislike,
I'll rip thy Crown up with my Sword at height,
And pluck thy skin over thy face, in sight
Of him thou flatter'st; unto thee I speak it,
Slave, against whom all Laws should now conspire,
And every Creature that hath sense, be arm'd,
As 'gainst the common Enemy of Mankind;
That sleep'st within thy Masters Ear, and whisper'st
'Tis better for him to be fear'd than lov'd;
Bid'st him trust no mans friendship, spare no blood
That may secure him: 'tis no cruelty
That hath a specious end; for Soveraignty
Break all the Laws of kind; if it succeed,
An honest, noble, and praise-worthy deed;
While he that takes thy poysons in, shall feel
Their virulent workings in a point of time,
When no Repentance can bring aid, but all
His spirits shall melt, with what his Conscience burn'd,
And dying in flatterers arms, shall fall unmourn'd.
There's matter for you now.

_Lat._ My Lord, this makes not for loving of my Master.

_Aub._ Loving? no;
They hate ill Princes most that make them so.

_Enter_ Rollo, Hamond, Allan, _Guard_.

_Rol._ I'll hear no more.

_Ham._ Alas, 'tis for my Brother: I beseech your Highness.

_Rol._ How, a Brother? had not I one my self? did title
Move me when it was fit that he should dye? away.

_All._ Brother, lose no word more, leave my good Cause
T' upbraid the Tyrant, I'm glad I'm faln
Now in those times that will'd some great example
T' assure men we can dye for honesty.

_Rol._ Sir, you are brave, 'pray that you hold your neck
As bravely forth anon unto your Headsman.

_All._ Would he would strike as bravely, and thou by,
Rollo, 'twould make thee quake to see me dye.

_Aub._ What's his offence?

_Ham._ For giving _Gisbert_ burial, who was sometimes his Master.

_All._ Yes, Lord _Aubrey_,
My gratitude and humanity are my crimes.

_Rol._ Why bear you him not hence?

_Aub._ My Lord, (stay Souldiers)
I do beseech your Highness, do not lose
Such men for such slight causes. This is one
Has still been faithful to you, a try'd soul
In all your fathers Battles; I have seen him
Bestride a friend against a score of Foes,
And look, he looks as he would kill his hundred
For you, Sir, were you in some danger.

_All._ Till he kill'd his Brother, his Chancellour, then his
Master, to which he can add nought to equal _Nero_,
But killing of his Mother.

_Aub._ Peace, brave Fool,
Thou valiant Ass: here is his Brother too, Sir,
A Captain of your Guard, hath serv'd you long,
With the most noble witness of his truth
Mark'd in his face, and every part about him,
That turns not from an enemy. But view him,
Oh do not grieve him, Sir, if you do mean
That he shall hold his place: it is not safe
To tempt such spirits, and let them wear their Swords,
You'll make your Guards your terrours by these Acts,
And throw more hearts off from you than you hold;
And I must tell you, Sir, (with my old freedom,
And my old faith to boot) you have not liv'd so
But that your state will need such men, such hands
Of which here's one, shall in an hour of tryal,
Do you more certain service with a stroke,
Than the whole bundle of your flatterers
With all the unsavory unction of their tongues.

_Rol._ Peace, talker.

_Aub._ One that loves you yet, my Lord,
And would not see you pull on your own ruines.
Mercy becomes a Prince, and guards him best,
Awe and affrights are never tyes of Love;
And when men begin to fear the Prince, they hate him.

_Rol._ Am I the Prince, or you?

_Aub._ My Lord, I hope I have not utter'd ought should
urge that question.

_Rol._ Then practise your obedience, see him dead.

_Aub._ My Lord?

_Rol._ I'll hear no more.

_Aub._ I'm sorry then; there's no small despair, Sir, of their
Safety, whose ears are blockt up against truth; come, captain.

_Ham._ I thank you, Sir.

_Aub._ For what? for seeing thy brother die a man, and honest?
Live thou so, Captain, I will assure thee,
Although I die for't too; come-- [_Ex. all but_ Rol. & Lat.

_Rol._ Now _Latorch_, what do you think?

_Lat._ That _Aubrey_'s speech and manners sound somewhat of the
boldest.

_Rol._ 'Tis his custome.

_Lat._ It may be so, and yet be worth a fear.

_Rol._ If we thought so, it should be worth his life, and quickly too.

_Lat._ I dare not, Sir, be authour
Of what I would be, 'tis so dangerous:
But with your Highness favour and your licence.

_Rol._ He talks, 'tis true; he is licens'd: leave him,
We now are Duke alone, _Latorch_, secur'd;
Nothing left standing to obscure our prospect,
We look right forth, beside, and round about us,
And see it ours with pleasure: only one
Wish'd joy there wants to make us to possess it,
And that is _Edith_, _Edith_, she that got me
In blood and tears, in such an opposite minute,
As had I not at once felt all the flames
And shafts of Love shot in me (his whole armory)
I should have thought him as far off as Death.

_Lat._ My Lord, expect a while, your happiness
Is nearer than you think it, yet her griefs
Are green and fresh, your vigilant _Latorch_
Hath not been idle; I have leave already
To visit her, and send to her.

_Rol._ My life.

_Lat._ And if I find not out as speedy ways,
And proper instruments to work and bring her
To your fruition; that she be not watch'd
Tame to your Highness wish, say you have no servant
Is capable of such a trust about you,
Or worthy to be Secretary of your pleasure.

_Rol._ Oh my _Latorch_, what shall I render thee
For all thy travels, care, and love?

_Lat._ Sir, one suit, which I will ever importune, till you grant me.

_Rol._ About your Mathematicians?

_Lat._ Yes, to have
The Scheme of your Nativity judg'd by them,
I have't already erected; O my Lord,
You do not know the labour of my fears,
My doubts for you are such as cannot hope
Any security, but from the Stars;
Who, being rightly ask'd, can tell man more
Than all power else, there being no power beyond them.

_Rol._ All thy petitions still are care of us,
Ask for thy self.

_Lat._ What more can concern me, than this?

_Rol._ Well, rise true honest man, and go then,
We'l study our selves a means how to reward thee.

_Lat._ Your grace is now inspir'd; now, now your highness
Begins to live, from this hour count your joyes:
But, Sir, I must have warrants, with blanks figur'd,
To put in names, such as I like.

_Rol._ You shall.

_Lat._ They dare not else offer, Sir, at your figure?
Oh I shall bring you wonders; there's a Frier
_Rusee_, an admirable man, another
A Gentleman, and then _Lafiske_,
The mirrour of his time; 'twas he that set it.
But there's one _Norbret_, (him I never saw)
Has made a mirrour, a meer Looking-glass,
In shew you'ld think't no other; the form oval,
As I am given to understand by letter,
Which renders you such shapes, and those so differing,
And some that will be question'd and give answers;
Then has he set it in a frame, that wrought
Unto the revolutions of the Stars,
And so compact by due proportions
Unto their harmony, doth move alone
A true automaton; thus _Dædalus_ Statues,
Or _Vulcans_ Tools--

_Rol._ Dost thou believe this?

_Lat._ Sir? why, what should stay my faith, or turn my sense?
He has been about it above twenty years,
Three sevens, the powerfull, and the perfect numbers;
And Art and time, Sir, can produce such things.
What do I read there of _Hiarbas_ banquet?
The great Gymnosophist, that had his Butlers
And carvers of pure gold waiting at table?
The images of _Mercury_, too, that spoke?
The wooden door that flew? a snake of brass
That hist? and birds of Silver that did sing?
All those new done by the Mathematicks,
Without which there's no science, nor no truth.

_Rol._ You are in your sphear, _Latorch_: and rather
Than I'le contend w'ye for it, I'le believe it,
Y'have won upon me that I wish to see
My fate before me now, what e're it be.

_Lat._ And I'le endeavour, you shall know with speed,
For which I should have one of trust go with me,
If you please, _Hamond_, that I may by him
Send you my first dispatches; after I
Shall bring you more, and as they come still more.

_Rol._ Take your way,
Choose your own means, and be it prosperous to us.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ Rusee, _de_ Bube, _la_ Fiske, Norbret, Pippeau.

_Rus._ Come, bear up Sirs, we shall have better days,
My Almanack tells me.

_Bub._ What is that? your rump?

_Rus._ It never itch'd in vain yet, slide _la Fiske_,
Throw off thy sluggish face, I cannot abide
To see thee look like a poor Jade i'th' pound,
That saw no meat these three days.

_Fiske._ 'Slight, to me
It seems thirteen dayes since I saw any.

_Rus._ How?

_Fis._ I can't remember that I ever saw
Or meat or mony, you may talk of both
To open a mans stomach or his purse,
But feed 'em still with air.

_Bub._ Friar, I fear
You do not say your Office well a dayes.

_Nor._ Pox, he feeds
With leachery, and lives upon th' exchange
Of his two Eggs and Puddings with the market women.

_Rus._ And what do you Sir, with the Advocates wife,
Whom you perswade, upon your Doctoral bed,
To take the Mathematical trance so often?

_Fis._ Come, we are stark naught all, bad's the best of us,
Four of the seven deadly spots we are;
Besides our Leachery, we are envious,
And most, most gluttonous when we have it thus,
Most covetous now we want it; then our Boy
He is a fifth spot, sloth and he undoes us.

_Bub._ 'Tis true, the child was wont to be industrious,
And now and then sent to a Merchants wife
Sick of the Husband, or a swearing Butler
That mist of his Bowls, a crying Maid
Had lost a Silver spoon; the Curry comb
Sometimes was wanting; there was something gotten;
But now--

_Pip._ What now? Did not I yester-morning
Bring you in a Cardecu there from the Peasant,
Whose ass I had driven aside, and hid, that you
Might conjure for him? and then last night,
Six Soulz from the Cooks wife, you shar'd among you
To set a figure for the Pestle I stole,
It is not at home yet; these things, my Masters,
In a hard time, they would be thought on: you
Talk of your lands and Castles in the air,
Of your twelve houses there: but it is I
That bring you in your rents for 'em, 'tis _Pippeau_
That is your bird-call.

_Nor._ Faith he does well,
And cuts through the Elements for us, I must needs say
In a fine dextrous line.

_Fis._ But not as he did
At first, then he would sail with any wind
Int' every Creek and Corner.

_Pip._ I was light then,
New built and rigg'd when I came to you, Gentlemen,
But now with often and far venturing for you
Here be leaks sprung, and whole Planks wanting see you;
If you'l new sheath me again, yet I am for you
To any bog or sleights, where e're you'l send me,
For as I am, where can this ragged Bark
Put in for any service; 'less it be
O'th' Isle of Rogues, and there turn Pirate for you.

_Nor._ Faith he says reason, Fryer, you must leave
Your neat crisp Claret, and fall to your Cyder
A while; and you _la Fiske_, your larded Capons
And Turkys for a time, and take a good
Clean Tripe in your way; _de Bube_ too must content him with
wholsom two souz'd petitoes, no more Crown Ordinaries,
till we have cloath'd our Infant.

_Bub._ So you'l keep
Your own good motions, Doctor, your dear self.

_Fis._ Yes, for we all do know the Latitude
Of your Concupiscence.

_Rus._ Here about your belly.

_Bub._ You'l pick a bottle open or a whimsey,
As soon as the best of us.
_Fis._ And dip your wrist-bands,
(For Cuffs y'have none) as comely in the sauce [_The Bell rings._
As any Courtier--hark, the Bell, who is there?

_Rus._ Good luck I do conjure thee; Boy look out.

_Pip._ They are Gallants, courtiers, one of 'em is

[_Exit and enter again._

Of the Dukes bed-chamber.

_Rus._ _Latorch_, down,
On with your gown, there's a new suite arriv'd, [_To Norbret._
Did I not tell you, Sons of hunger? Crowns,
Crowns are coming toward you, wine and wenches
You shall have once again, and Fidlers:
Into your studyes close; each lay his ear
To his door, and as you hear me to prepare you
So come, and put me on that visard only.

_Enter_ Latorch, Hamond.

_Lat._ You'l not be far hence Captain, when the
Business is done you shall receive present dispatch.

_Ham._ I'le walk Sir, in the Cloyster. [_Exit._

_Rus._ Monsieur _Latorch_; my Son,
The Stars are happy still that guide you hither.

_Lat._ I'me glad to hear their Secretary say so,
My learned Father _Russe_, where's _la Fiske_,
Monsieur _de Bube_, how do they?

_Rus._ At their studyes,
They are the Secretaries of the Stars, Sir,
Still at their books, they will not be pull'd off,
They stick like cupping glasses; if ever men
Spoke with the tongue of destiny, 'tis they.

_Lat._ For loves sake let's salute 'em.

_Rus._ Boy, go see,
Tell them who's here, say, that their friends do challenge
Some portion of their time, this is our minute,
Pray 'em they'l spare it: they are the Sun and Moon
Of knowledge; pity two such noble lights
Should live obscur'd here in an University,
Whose beams were fit to'illumine any court
Of Christendom.

_Enter la_ Fisk, _de_ Bube, _and_ Pippeau.

_Lat._ The Duke will shortly know 'em.

_Fis._ Well, look upon the Astrolabe; you'l find it
Four Almucanturies at least.

_Bub._ It is so.

_Rus._ Still of their learned stuff, they care for nothing,
But how to know, as negli[g]ent of their bodies
In dyet, or else, especially in their cloaths,
As if they had no change.

_Pip._ They have so little
As well may free them from the name of shifters.

_Fis._ Monsieur _Latorch_?

_Lat._ How is it, learned Gentlemen, with both your vertues?

_Bub._ A most happy hour, when we see you, Sir.

_Lat._ When you hear me then
It will be happier; the Duke greets you both
Thus, and though you may touch no mony, Father,
Yet you may take it.

_Rus._ 'Tis his highness bounty,
But yet to me, and these that have put off
The world, superfluous.

_Fis._ We have heard of late of his highness good success.

_Bub._ And gratulate it.

_Lat._ Indeed he hath scap'd a strange Conspiracy,
Thanks to his Stars; which Stars he prayes by me,
You would again consult, and make a Judgement
On what you lately erected for my love.

_Rus._ Oh, Sir, we dare not.

_Fis._ For our lives.

_Bub._ It is the Princes Scheam.

_Lat._ T'incounter with that fear,
Here's to assure you, his Signet, write your names,
And be secured all three.

_Bu[b]._ We must intreat some time, Sir.

_Lat._ I must then intreat it, be as present as you can.

_Fis._ Have you the Scheam here?

_Lat._ Yes.

_Rus._ I would you had Sir another warrant.

_Lat._ What would that do?

_Rus._ Marry we have a Doctor Sir, that in this business
Would not perform the second part.

_Lat._ Not him that you writ to me of?

_Rus._ The very same.

_Lat._ I should have made it, Sir, my suit to see him,
Here is a warrant Father, I conceiv'd
That he had solely applyed himself to Magick.

_Rus._ And to their studies too Sir, in this field
He was initiated, but we shall hardly
Draw him from his chair.

_Lat._ Tell him he shall have gold.

_Fis._ Oh, such a syllable would make him to forswear
Ever to breath in your sight.

_Lat._ How then?

_Fis._ Sir, he if you do please to give him any thing,
Must have't convey'd under a paper.

_Rus._ Or left behind some book in his study.

_Bub._ Or in some old wall.

_Fis._ Where his familiars may tell him of it, and that pleases him,
Sir.

_Bub._ Or else I'le go and assay him.

_Lat._ Take gold with you.

_Rus._ That will not be amiss; give it the Boy, Sir,
He knows his holes, and how to bait his Spirits.

_Pip._ We must lay in several places, Sir.

_Rus._ That's true, that if one come not, the other may hit.

_Lat._ Well, go then, is he so learned, Gentlemen?

_Fis._ The very top of our profession; mouth of the fates,
Pray Heaven his Spirits be in a good humor to take,
They'l fling the gold about the house else.

_Bub._ I, and beat the Fryer if he go not well
Furnisht with holy-water.

_Fis._ Sir, you must observe him.

_Bub._ Not cross him in a word, for then he's gone.

_Fis._ If he do come, which is a hazard, yet--
Mass he's here, this is speed.

_Enter_ Norb[re]t, Russ, Pippeau.

_Nor._ Where is our Scheme,
Let's see, dispatch, nay fumbling now, who's this?

_Rus._ Chief Gentleman of the Dukes Chamber, Doctor.

_Nor._ Oh, let him be, good even to him, he's a courtier,
I'le spare his complement, tell him: what's here?
The geniture Nocturnal, Longitude
At forty nine and ten minutes? How are the cardins?

_Fis._ Libra in twenty four, forty four minutes,
And Capricorn.

_Nor._ I see it, see the Planets,
Where, how are they dispos'd? the Sun and _Mercury_,
Mars with the Dragons tail in the third house,
And _pars Fortunæ_ in the _Imo Cœli_,
Then _Jupiter_ in the twelfth, the _Cacodemon_.

_Bub._ And _Venus_ in the second _Inferna Porta_.

_Nor._ I see it, peace, then _Saturn_ in the Fifth,
_Luna_ i'th' Seventh, and much of _Scorpio_,
Then _Mars_ his _Gaudium_, rising in th'ascendent,
And joyn'd with _Libra_ too, the house of _Venus_,
And [_Imum_] _Cœli_, _Mars_ his exaltation
In the seventh house, _Aries_ being his natural house
And where he is now seated, and all these shew him
To be the Almuten.

_Rus._ Yes, he's Lord of the Geniture,
Whether you examine it by _Ptolomeys_ way,
Or _Messethales_, _Lael_, or _Alkindus_.

_Fis._ No other Planet hath so many dignities
Either by himself, or in regard of the Cusps.

_Nor._ Why hold your tongue then if you know it; _Venus_
The Lady of the Horoscope, being _Libra_,
The other part, _Mars_ rules: So that the geniture,
Being Nocturnal, _Luna_ is the highest,
None else being in sufficient dignity,
She being in _Aries_ in the Seventh house,
Where _Sol_ exalted, is the Alchoroden.

_Bub._ Yes, for you see he hath his Termin
In the degrees where she is, and enjoyes
By that, six dignities.

_Fis._ Which are clearly more
Than any else that view her in the Scheam.

_Nor._ Why I saw this, and could have told you too,
That he beholds her with a Trine aspect
Here out of Sagittary, almost partile,
And how that _Mars_ out of the self same house,
(But another Sign) here by a Platique aspect
Looks at the Hilege, with a Quartile ruling
The house where the Sun is; all this could I
Have told you, but that you'll outrun me; and more,
That this same Quartile aspect to the Lady of life,
Here in the seventh, promises some danger,
_Cauda Draconis_ being so near _Mars_,
And _Caput Algol_ in the house of Death.

_Lat._ How, Sir? I pray you clear that.

_Nor._ What is the question first?

_Rus._ Of the Dukes life, what dangers threaten him?

_Nor._ Apparent, and those suddain, when the Hyley
Or Alchorodon by direction come
To a Quartile opposition of the place
Where _Mars_ is in the Geniture (which is now
At hand) or else oppose to _Mars_ himself; expect it.

_Lat._ But they may be prevented.

_Nor._ Wisdom only
That rules the Stars, may do it; for _Mars_ being
Lord of the Geniture in _Capricorn_,
Is, if you mark it, now a _Sextile_ here,
With _Venus_ Lady of the Horoscope.
So she being in her Exilium, which is _Scorpio_,
And _Mars_ his Gaudium, is o'rerul'd by him,
And clear debilitated five degrees
Beneath her ordinary power, so
That, at the most she can but mitigate.

_Lat._ You cannot name the persons bring this danger?

_Nor._ No, that the Stars tell us not, they name no man,
That is a work, Sir, of another place.

_Rus._ Tell him whom you suspect, and he'll guess shrewdly.

_Lat._ Sir, we do fear one _Aubrey_; if 'twere he
I should be glad; for we should soon prevent him.

_Fis._ I know him, the Dukes Kinsman, a tall man?
Lay hold of't _Norbret_.

_Nor._ Let me pause a little,
Is he not near of kin unto the Duke?

_Lat._ Yes, reverend Sir.

_Nor._ 'Fart for your reverence, keep it till then; and somewhat high
of stature?

_Lat._ He is so.

_Nor._ How old is he?

_Fis._ About seven and fifty.

_Nor._ His head and beard inclining to be grey.

_Lat._ Right, Sir.

_Fis._ And fat?

_Nor._ He is somewhat corpulent, is he not?

_Lat._ You speak the man, Sir.

_Nor._ Well, look to him, farewel. [_Exit_ Norb.

_Lat._ Oh, it is _Aubrey_; Gentlemen, I pray you,
Let me receive this under all your hands.

_Rus._ Why, he will shew you him in his Magick glass
If you intreat him, and but gratifie
A spirit or two more.

_Lat._ He shall eat gold
If he will have it, so shall you all; there's that
Amongst you first, let me have this to send
The Duke in the mean time; and then what sights
You please to shew; I'le have you so rewarded
As never Artists were, you shall to Court
Along with me, and there wait you[r] fortunes.

_Bub._ We have a pretty part of't in our pockets;
Boy we will all be new, you shall along too. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_Enter_ Sophia, Matilda, _and_ Edith.

_Mat._ Good Madam, hear the suit that _Edith_ urges,
With such submiss beseeches; nor remain
So strictly bound to sorrow for your son,
That nothing else, though never so befitting,
Obtains your ears, or observation.

_Sop._ What would she say? I hear.

_Edith._ My suit is, Madam,
That you would please to think as well of justice
Due to your sons revenge, as of more wrong added
To both your selves for it, in only grieving.
Th' undaunted power of Princes should not be
Confin'd in deedless cold calamity;
Anger, the Twin of sorrow, in your wrongs
Should not be smother'd, when his right of birth
Claims th' Air as well, and force of coming forth.

_Sop._ Sorrow is due already, anger never
Should be conceived but where it may [be] born
In some fact fit t'employ his active flame,
That else consumes who bears it, and abides
Like a false star that quenches as it glides.

_Ed._ I have such means t'employ it as your wish
Can think no better, easier, or securer;
And such as but th' honours I intend
To your partakings, I alone could end:
But your parts in all dues to crying blood
For vengeance in the shedder, are much greater:
And therefore should work your hands to his slaughter.
For your consent to which, 'twere infinite wrong
To your severe and most impartial justice,
To move you to forget so false a son
As with a Mothers duty made you curse him.

_Mat._ _Edith_, he is forgot, for any son
Born of my Mother, or to me a Brother.
For should we still perform our rights to him
We should partake his wrongs, and as foul be
In blood and damned parricide as he.
And therefore tell the happy means that Heaven
Puts in thy hand, for all our long'd for freedom
From so abhorr'd and impious a monster.

_Sop._ Tell what she will, I'le lend nor hand nor ear
To whatsoever Heaven puts in her power. [_Exit_ Sophia.

_Mat._ How strange she is to what she chiefly wishes!
Sweet _Edith_ be not any thought the more
Discourag'd in thy purpose, but assured,
Her heart and prayers are thine; and that we two
Shall be enough to all we wish to do.

_Edith._ Madam, my self alone, I make no doubt
Shall be afforded power enough from Heaven
To end the murtherer: all I wish of you,
Is but some richer Ornaments and Jewels
Than I am able to provide my self,
To help out the defects of my poor Beauty,
That yet hath been enough, as now it is,
To make his fancy mad with my desire.
But you know, Madam, Women never can
Be too fair to torment an amorous man;
And this mans torments I would heighten still,
Till at their highest he be fit to kill.

_Mat._ Thou shalt have all my Jewels and my Mothers,
And thou shalt paint too, that his bloods desire
May make him perish in a painted fire;
Hast thou been with him yet?

_Edith._ Been with him? no;
I set that hour back to haste more his longing;
But I have promis'd to his instruments,
The admittance of a visit at our house,
Where yet I would receive him with all lustre
My sorrow would give leave to, to remove
Suspicion of my purpose.

_Mat._ Thou shalt have
All I can add, sweet wench, in Jewels, tyres,
I'le be my self thy dresser; nor may I
Serve my own love with a contracted Husband
More sweetly, nor more amply than maist thou
Thy forward will with his bewitch'd affections:
Affect'st thou any personal aid of mine
My noblest _Edith_?

_Edith._ Nought but your kind prayers
For full effect and speed of my affair.

_Mat._ They are thine, my _Edith_, as for me, my own;
For thou well know'st, if blood shed of the best
Should cool and be forgotten, who would fear
To shed blood still? or where, alas, were then
The endless love we owe to worthy men?

_Ed._ Love of the worthiest ever bless your highness. [_Exe._

_Actus Quintus. Scena Prima._

_Enter_ Rollo _with a glass_, Aubrey, _and Servants_.

_Rol._ I never studied my glass till now,
It is exceeding well; now leave me; Cousin,
How takes your eye the object?

_Aub._ I have learn'd
So much Sir of the Courtier, as to say
Your person does become your habit;
But being called unto it by a noble War,
Would grace an armour better.

_Rol._ You are still
For that great Art of which you are the Master;
Yet I must tell you, that to the encounters
We oft attempt, arm'd only thus, we bring
As troubled blood, fears mixt with flatt'ring hopes,
The danger in the service too as great,
As when we are to charge quite through and through
The body of an Army.

_Aub._ I'le not argue
How you may rank the dangers, but will die in't,
The ends which they arrive at, are as distant
In every circumstance, as far as honour
Is from shame and repentance.

_Rol._ You are sowr?

_Aub._ I would speak my free thoughts, yet not appear so;
Nor am I so ambitious of the title
Of one that dares talk any thing that was
Against the torrent of his own opinion,
That I affect to speak ought may offend you:
And therefore gracious Sir, be pleas'd to think
My manners or discretion have inform'd me
That I was born, in all good ends, to serve you:
And not to check at what concerns me not:
I look not with sore eyes on your rich out-side,
Nor rack my thoughts to find out to what purpose
'Tis now employ'd; I wish it may be good,
And that, I hope, offends not for a subject
Towards his Prince in things indifferent;
To use the austereness of a censuring _Cato_
Is arrogance, not freedom.

_Rol._ I commend
This temper in you, and will cherish it.

_Enter_ Hamond _with Letters_.

They come from _Rome_, _Latorch_ imployed you?

_Ham._ True Sir.

_Rol._ I must not now be troubled with a thought
Of any new design; good _Aubrey_ read 'em,
And as they shall direct you, use my power,
Or to reply or execute.

_Aub._ I will, Sir.

_Rol._ And Captain bring a squadron of our Guard
To th' house that late was _Baldwins_, and there wait me.

_Ham._ I shall.

_Rol._ Some two hours hence.

_Ham._ With my best care.

_Rol._ Inspire me Love, and be thy deity,
Or scorn'd or fear'd, as now thou favour'st me. [_Exit_ Rollo.

_Ham._ My stay to do my duty, may be wrongs
Your Lordships privacy.

_Aub._ Captain, your love
Is ever welcome; I intreat your patience
While I peruse these.

_Ham._ I attend your pleasure.

_Aub._ How's this, a plot on me?

_Ham._ What is contain'd
In th' letters that I brought, that thus transports him?

_Aub._ To be wrought on by Rogues, and have my head
Brought to the Axe by Knaves that cheat for bread?
The Creatures of a Parasite, a slave;
I find you here _Latorch_, not wonder at it;
But that this honest Captain should be made
His instrument, afflicts me; I'le make trial
Whether his will or weakness made him do it.
Captain you saw the Duke when he commanded
I should do what these letters did direct me,
And I presume you think I'le not neglect
For fear or favour, to remove all dangers
How near soever that man can be to me
From whom they should have birth.

_Ham._ It is confirm'd.

_Aub._ Nor would you Captain, I believe, refuse,
Or for respect of thankfulness, or hopes,
To use your sword with fullest confidence
Where he shall bid you strike.

_Ham._ I never have done.

_Aub._ Nor will I think--

_Ham._ I hope it is not question'd.

_Aub._ The means to have it so, is now propos'd you.
Draw, so, 'tis well, and next cut off my head.

_Ham._ What means your Lordship?

_Aub._ 'Tis, Sir, the Dukes pleasure:
My innocence hath made me dangerous,
And I must be remov'd, and you the man
Must act his will.

_Ham._ I'le be a Traytor first, before I serve it thus.

_Aub._ It must be done,
And that you may not doubt it, there's your warrant,
But as you read, remember _Hamond_, that
I never wrong'd one of your brave profession;
And, though it be not manly, I must grieve
That man of whose love I was most ambitious
Could find no object of his hate but me.

_Ham._ It is no time to talk now, honour'd Sir,
Be pleas'd to hear thy servant, I am wrong'd,
And cannot, being now to serve the Duke,
Stay to express the manner how; but if
I do not suddenly give you strong proofs,
Your life is dearer to me than my own,
May I live base, and dye so: Sir, your pardon. [_Exit_ Ham.

_Aub._ I am both waies ruin'd, both waies mark't for slaughter
On every side, about, behind, before me,
My certain fate is fix't: were I a Knave now,
I could avoid this: had my actions
But meer relations to their own ends, I could 'scape now:
Oh honesty! thou elder child of vertue,
Thou seed of Heaven, why to acquire thy goodness
Should malice and distrust stick thorns before us,
And make us swim unto thee, hung with hazards?
But Heaven is got by suffering, not disputing;
Say he knew this before-hand, where am I then?
Or say he does [not] know it, where's my Loyalty?
I know his nature, troubled as the Sea,
And as the Sea devouring when he's vex'd,
And I know Princes are their own expounders.
Am I afraid of death? of dying nobly?
Of dying in mine innocence uprightly?
Have I met death in all his forms, and fears,
Now on the points of Swords, now pitch'd on Lances?
In fires, and storms of Arrows, Battels, breaches,
And shall I now shrink from him, when he courts me
Smiling and full of sanctity? I'le meet him;
My Loyal hand and heart shall give this to him,
And though it bear beyond what Poets feign
A punishment, duty shall meet that pain;
And my most constant heart to do him good,
Shall check at neither pale affright nor bloud.

_Enter Messenger._

_Mess._ The Dutchess presently would crave your presence.

_Aub._ I come; and _Aubrey_ now resolve to keep
Thy honour living, though thy body sleep. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ Edith, _a Boy, and a Banquet set out_.

_Edith._ Now for a Fathers murther, and thy ruine,
All chastity shall suffer if he raign;
Thou blessed soul, look down, and steel thy Daughter,
Look on the sacrifice she comes to send thee,
And through the bloudy clouds behold my piety,
Take from my cold heart fear, from my sex pity,
And as I wipe these tears off, shed for thee,
So all remembrance may I lose of mercy;
Give me a womans anger bent to bloud,
The wildness of the winds to drown his prayers,
Storm-like may my destruction fall upon him,
My rage like roving billows as they rise,
Pour'd on his soul to sink it, give me flattery,
(For yet my constant soul ne'r knew dissembling)
Flattery the food of Fools, that I may rock him
And lull him in the Down of his desires;
That in the height of all his hopes and wishes,
His Heaven forgot, and all his lusts upon him,
My hand, like thunder from a cloud, may seize him.
I hear him come, go boy, and entertain him.

_Enter Rollo._

SONG.

_Take, Oh take those lips away_
_That so sweetly were forsworn,_
_And those eyes, like break of day,_
_Lights that do mislead the Morn,_
_But my kisses bring again,_
_Seals of love, though seal'd in vain._

_Hide, Oh hide those hills of Snow,_
_Which thy frozen blossome bears,_
_On whose tops the Pinks that grow_
_Are of those that_ April _wears,_
_But first set my poor heart free,_
_Bound in those Ivy chains by thee._

_Rol._ What bright star, taking beauties form upon her,
In all the happy lustre of Heavens glory,
Has drop'd down from the Skye to comfort me?
Wonder of nature, let it not prophane thee
My rude hand touch thy beauty, nor this kiss,
The gentle sacrifice of love and service,
Be offer'd to the honour of thy sweetness.

_Edi._ My gracious Lord, no deity dwells here,
Nor nothing of that vertue, but obedience,
The servant to your will affects no flattery.

_Rol._ Can it be flattery to swear those eyes
Are loves eternal lamps he fires all hearts with?
That tongue the smart string to his bow? those sighs
The deadly shafts he sends into our souls?
Oh, look upon me with thy spring of beauty.

_Edi._ Your grace is full of game.

_Rol._ By Heaven, my _Edith_,
Thy Mother fed on Roses when she bred thee.

_Ed._ And thine on brambles that have prick'd her heart out.

_Rol._ The sweetness of the Arabian wind still blowing
Upon the treasures of perfumes and spices,
In all their pride and pleasures call thee Mistris.

_Edi._ Wil't please you sit Sir?

_Rol._ So you please sit by me.
Fair gentle maid, there is no speaking to thee,
The excellency that appears upon thee
Tyes up my tongue: pray speak to me.

_Edi._ Of what Sir?

_Rol._ Of any thing, any thing is excellent.
Will you take my directions? speak of love then;
Speak of thy fair self _Edith_; and while thou speak'st,
Let me, thus languishing, give up my self wench.

_Edi._ H'as a strange cunning tongue, why do you sigh Sir?
How masterly he turns himself to catch me!

_Rol._ The way to Paradise, my gentle maid,
Is hard and crooked, scarce Repentance finding,
With all her holy helps, the door to enter,
Give me thy hand, what dost thou feel?

_Edi._ Your tears Sir.
You weep extreamly; strengthen me now justice.
Why are these sorrows Sir?

_Rol._ Thou't never love me
If I should tell thee, yet there's no way left
Ever to purchase this blest Paradise,
But swimming thither in these tears.

_Edi._ I stagger.

_Rol._ Are they not drops of blood?

_Edi._ No.

_Rol._ They're for blood then,
For guiltless blood, and they must drop, my _Edith_,
They must thus drop, till I have drown'd my mischiefs.

_Edi._ If this be true, I have no strength to touch him.

_Rol._ I prethee look upon me, turn not from me;
Alas I do confess I'me made of mischiefs,
Begot with all mans miseries upon me;
But see my sorrows, maid, and do not thou,
Whose only sweetest sacrifice is softness,
Whose true condition, tenderness of nature.

_Edi._ My anger melts, Oh, I shall lose my justice.

_Rol._ Do not thou learn to kill with cruelty,
As I have done, to murther with thy eyes,
(Those blessed eyes) as I have done with malice,
When thou hast wounded me to death with scorn,
(As I deserve it Lady) for my true love,
When thou hast loaden me with earth for ever,
Take heed my sorrows, and the stings I suffer;
Take heed my nightly dreams of death and horrour
Pursue thee not: no time shall tell thy griefs then,
Nor shall an hour of joy adde to thy beauties.
Look not upon me as I kill'd thy Father,
As I was smear'd in blood, do not thou hate me,
But thus in whiteness of my wash't repentance,
In my hearts tears and truth of love to _Edith_,
In my fair life hereafter.

_Edi._ He will fool me.

_Rol._ Oh with thine Angel eyes behold and close me,
Of Heaven we call for mercy and obtain it;
To Justice for our right on Earth and have it;
Of thee I beg for love, save me, and give it.

_Edi._ Now heaven thy help, or I am gone for ever,
His tongue has turn'd me into melting pity.

_Enter_ Hamond, _and_ Guard.

_Ham._ Keep the doors safe, and upon pain of death
Let no man enter till I give the word.

_Guard._ We shall Sir. [_Exeunt._

_Ham._ Here he is in all his pleasure; I have my wish.

_Rol._ How now? why dost thou stare so?

_Edi._ A help, I hope.

_Rol._ What dost thou here? who sent thee?

_Ham._ My Brother, and the base malicious Office
Thou mad'st me do to _Aubrey_; pray.

_Rol._ Pray?

_Ham._ Pray; pray if thou canst pray, I shall kill thy soul else,
Pray suddenly.

_Rol._ Thou can'st not be so trayterous.

_Ham._ It is a Justice; stay Lady;
For I perceive your end; a womans hand
Must not rob me of vengeance.

_Edi._ 'Tis my glory.

_Ham._ 'Tis mine, stay, and share with me; by the gods, _Rollo_,
There is no way to save thy life.

_Rol._ No?

_Ham._ No, it is so monstrous, no repentance cures it.

_Rol._ Why then thou shalt kill her first, and what this blood
Will cast upon thy cursed head.

_Ham._ Poor Guard Sir.

_Edi._ Spare not brave Captain.

_Rol._ Fear, or the Devil has thee.

_Ham._ Such fear Sir as you gave your honor'd Mother,
When your most vertuous Brother, shield-like, held her;
Such I'le give you, put her away.

_Rol._ I will not, I will not die so tamely.

_Ham._ Murtherous villain, wilt thou draw seas of blood upon thee?

_Edi._ Fear not, kill him good Captain, any way dispatch
Him, my body's honor'd with that sword that through me,
Sends his black soul to Hell: Oh, but for one hand.

_Ham._ Shake him off bravely.

_Edi._ He's too strong, strike him.

_Ham._ Oh, am I with you Sir? now keep you from him,
What, has he got a knife?

_Edi._ Look to him Captain, for now he will be mischievous.

_Ham._ Do you smile Sir?
Do's it so tickle you? have at you once more.

_Edi._ O bravely thrust; take heed he come not in Sir;
To him again, you give him too much respite.

_Rol._ Yet will you save my life, and I'le forgive thee,
And give thee all, all honours, all advancements,
Call thee my friend.

_Ed._ Strike, strike, and hear him not,
His tongue will tempt a Saint.

_Rol._ Oh for my soul sake.

_Edi._ Save nothing of him.

_Ham._ Now for your farewel,
Are you so wary? take you that.

_Rol._ Thou, that too;
Oh thou hast kill'd me basely, basely, basely. [_Dyes._

_Edi._ The just reward of murther falls upon thee.
How do you Sir? has he not hurt you?

_Ham._ No, I feel not any thing.

_Aub._ I charge you let us passe. [_Within._

_Gua._ You cannot yet Sir.

_Aub._ I'le make way then.

_Gua._ We are sworn to our Captain, and till he give the word.

_Enter_ Sophia, Matilda, Aubrey, _Lords and attendants_.

_Ham._ Now let them in there.

_Sop._ Oh, here he lies,
Sorrow on sorrow seeks me, Oh, in his blood he lyes.

_Aub._ Had you spoke sooner
This might have been prevented;
Take the Dutchess,
And lead her off, this is no sight for her eyes.

_Mat._ Oh, bravely done wench.

_Edi._ There stands the noble doer.

_Mat._ My honour ever seek thee for thy justice,
Oh 'twas a deed of high and brave adventure,
A justice even for heaven to envy at,
Farewel my sorrows, and my tears take truce,
My wishes are come round: Oh bloody Brother,
Till this hour never beauteous; till thy life,
Like a full sacrifi[c]e for all thy mischiefs,
Flow'd from thee in these rivers, never righteous:
Oh how my eyes are quarri'd with their joys now!
My longing heart even leaping out for lightness!
But dye thy black sins with thee, I forgive thee.

_Aub._ Who did this deed?

_Ham._ I, and I'le answer it. [_Dies._

_Edi._ He faints, oh that same cursed knife has kill'd him.

_Aub._ How?

_Edi._ He snatch'd it from my hand, for whom I bore it,
And as they grappl'd.

_Aub._ Justice is ever equal,
Had it not been on him, th'adst dy'd too honest.
Did you know of his death?

_Edi._ Yes, and rejoyce in't.

_Aub._ I'me sorry for your youth then; though the strictness
Of Law shall not fall on you, that of life
Must presently, go to a Cloyster, carry her,
And there for ever lead your life in penitence.

_Edi._ Best Father to my soul, I give you thanks, Sir,
And now my fair revenges have their ends,
My vows shall be my kin, my prayers my friends. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Latorch, _and_ Juglers.

_Lat._ Stay there, I'le step in and prepare the Duke.

_Nor._ We shall have brave rewards?

_Fis._ That is without question.

_Lat._ By this time where's my huffing friend Lord _Aubrey_?
Where's that good Gentleman? oh, I could laugh now,
And burst my self with meer imagination;
A wise man, and a valiant man, a just man;
To suffer himself be juggl'd out of the world,
By a number of poor Gipseys? farewel Swash-buckler,
For I know thy mouth is cold enough by this time;
A hundred of ye I can shave as neatly,
And ne'r draw bloud in shew: now shall my honour,
My power and vertue walk alone: my pleasure
Observ'd by all, all knees bend to my worship,
All sutes to me as Saint of all their fortunes,
Prefer'd and crowded to, what full place of credit,
And what place now? your Lordship? no, 'tis common,
But that I'le think to morrow on; now for my business.

_Aub._ Who's there?

_Lat._ Dead, my Master dead? _Aubrey_ alive too?

_Gua._ _Latorch_, Sir.

_Aub._ Seize his body.

_Lat._ My Master dead?

_Aub._ And you within this halfhour,
Prepare your self good Devil, you must to it,
Millions of gold shall not redeem thy mischief,
Behold the Justice of thy practice, villain;
The mass of murthers thou hast drawn upon us:
Behold thy doctrine; you look now for reward, Sir,
To be advanc'd, I'm sure, for all your labours?
And you shall have it, make his gallows higher
By ten foot at the least, and then advance him.

_Lat._ Mercy, mercy.

_Aub._ 'Tis too late fool,
Such as you meant for me, away with him. [_He is led out._
What gaping knaves are these, bring 'em in fellows,
Now, what are you?

_Nor._ Mathematicians, if it please your Lordship.

_Aub._ And you drew a figure?

_Fis._ We have drawn many.

_Aub._ For the Duke, I mean; Sir _Latorchs_ knaves you are.

_Nor._ We know the Gentleman.

_Aub._ What did he promise you?

_Nor._ We are paid already.

_Aub._ But I will see you better paid, go whip them.

_Nor._ We do beseech your Lordship, we were hir'd.

_Aub._ I know you were, and you shall have your hire;
Whip 'em extremely, whip that Doctor there,
Till he record himself a Rogue.

_Nor._ I am one, Sir.

_Aub._ Whip him for being one, and when th'are whip't,
Lead 'em to the gallows to see their patron hang'd;
Away with them. [_They are led out._

_Nor._ Ah, good my Lord.

_Aub._ Now to mine own right, Gentlemen.

_1 Lord._ You have the next indeed, we all confess it,
And here stand ready to invest you with it.

_2 Lord._ Which to make stronger to you, and the surer
Than bloud or mischiefs dare infringe again,
Behold this Lady, Sir, this noble Lady,
Full of the bloud as you are, of that nearness,
How blessed would it be?

_Aub._ I apprehend you, and so the fair _Matilda_ dare accept
Me her ever constant servant.

_Mat._ In all pureness,
In all humility of heart and services,
To the most noble _Aubrey_, I submit me.

_Aub._ Then this is our first tye, now to our business.

_1 Lord._ We are ready all to put the honour on you, Sir.

_Aub._ These sad rites must be done first, take up the bodys,
This, as he was a Prince, so Princely funeral
Shall wait upon him: on this honest Captain,
The decency of arms; a tear for him too.

_So, sadly on, and as we view his blood,_
_May his Example in our Rule raise good._

THE

Wild-Goose Chase;

A

COMEDY.

Persons Represented in the Play.

De-Gard, _A Noble stay'd' Gentleman that being newly lighted from his
Travels, assists his Sister_ Oriana _in her chase of_ Mirabel
_the_ Wild-Goose.
La-Castre, _the Indulgent Father to_ Mirabell.
Mirabell, _the_ Wild-Goose, _a Travell'd Monsieur, and great defyer of
all Ladies in the way of Marriage, otherwise their much loose
servant, at last caught by the despis'd_ Oriana.
Pinac, _his fellow Traveller, of a lively spirit, and Servant to the no
less sprightly_ Lillia-Bianca.
Belleur, _Companion to both, of a stout blunt humour, in love with_
Rosalura.
Nantolet, _Father to_ Rosalura _and_ Lillia-Bianca.
Lugier, _the rough and confident Tutor to the Ladies, and chief Engine to
entrap the_ Wild-Goose.
Oriana, _the fair betroth'd of_ Mirabell, _and witty follower of the_
Chase.
Rosalura, } _the Airie Daughters of_ Nantolet.
Lillia-Bianca, }
Petella, _their Waiting-woman_.
Mariana, _an English Courtezan_.
_A young Factor._
_Page._
_Servants._
_Singing-Boy._
_Two Merchants._
_Priest._
_Four Women._

_The Scene_ Paris.

The Actors were,

_Robert Benfield._
_John Lowin._
_William Trigg._
_Richard Robinson._
_William Penn._
_Sander Gough._
_Joseph Taylor._
_Hilliard Swanston._
Mr. _Shank_.
_Thomas Pollard._
_Stephen Hammerton._
_John Hony-man._

_Actus Primus. Scena Prima._

_Enter Monsieur_ De Gard, _and a Foot-Boy_.

[_De Ga._] Sirrah, you know I have rid hard; stir my Horse well
And let him want no Litter.

_Boy._ I am sure I have run hard,
Would some body would walk me, & see me Litter'd;
For I think my fellow-horse, cannot in reason
Desire more rest, nor take up his Chamber before me,
But we are the Beasts now, and the Beasts are our Masters.

_De Ga._ When you have done, step to the Ten-Crown _Ordinary_.

_Boy._ With all my heart, Sir,
For I have a Twenty Crown stomach.

_De Ga._ And there bespeak a dinner.

_Boy._ Yes Sir, presently.

_De Ga._ For whom, I beseech you, Sir?

_Boy._ For my self, I take it, Sir.

_De Ga._ In truth ye shall not take it, 'tis not meant for you,
There's for your Provender: Bespeak a Dinner
For _Monsieur Mirabell_, and his Companions,
They'll be in Town within this hour.
When you have done, Sirrah,
Make ready all things at my Lodging, for me,
And wait me there.

_Boy._ The Ten Crown _Ordinary_?

_De Ga._ Yes Sir, if you have not forgot it.

_Boy._ I'le forget my feet first;
'Tis the best part of a Foot-mans faith. [_Exit Boy._

_De Ga._ These youths
For all they have been in _Italy_, to learn thrift,
And seem to wonder at mens lavish waies,
Yet they cannot rub off old friends, their French itches;
They must meet sometimes to disport their Bodies
With good Wine, and good Women; and good store too.
Let 'em be what they will, they are Arm'd at all points,
And then hang saving. Let the Sea grow high,
This _Ordinary_ can fit 'em of all sizes,

_Enter_ La-Castre _and_ Oriana.

They must salute their Country with old customes.

_Ori._ Brother.

_De Ga._ My dearest Sister.

_Ori._ Welcome, welcome:
Indeed ye are welcome home, most welcome.