Chapter VIII: Part 8

_Cos._ You are right,
Some of his noble bloud runs through these veins,
Though far unworthy of his graces knowledge.

_Long._ Sir, we must all be yours; his graces kinsman,
And we so much forgetful? 'twas a rudeness,
And must attend your pardon, thus I crave it:
First to this beauteous Lady, whom I take
To be your Wife, Sir, next your mercy.

_Cos._ You have it, Sir, I do not like this kissing,
It lies so open to a world of wishes.

_Serv._ This is the merry fellow; this is he
That must be noble too.

_Long._ And so he shall.
If all the Art I have can make him noble,
I'll dub him with a Knight-hood; if his wife
Will be but forward, and joyn issue,
I like her above excellent.

_Serv._ Wil't please you
To walk a turn or two, whilst to the Duke
We make your comming known? [_Exit Serv. and_ Long.

_Cos._ I shall attend, Sir.

_Wife._ These Gentlemen are very proper men,
And kiss the best that e'er I tasted.
For goodness-sake husband, let us never more
Come near the Countrey, whatsoe'er betide us;
I am in malice with the memory
Of that same stinking dung-hil.

_Cos._ Why now you are my chicken and my dear,
Love where I love, hate where I hate: now
You shall have twenty Gowns, and twenty Chains,
See, the door is opening.

_Groom._ Room afore there, the Duke is entring.

_Enter Duke_, _Wife_, Long. _Servant_, Maria.

_Cos._ 'Tis the Duke, even he himself, be merry,
This is the golden age the Poet speaks on.

_Wife._ I pray it be not brazen'd by their faces,
And yet methinks they are the neatest Pieces
For shape, and cutting that e'er I beheld.

_Cos._ Most gracious Duke, my poor Spouse and my self,
Do kiss your mighty foot, and next to that
The great hand of your Dutchess, ever wishing
Your honors ever springing, and your years.

_Duke._ Cosin?

_Cos._ Your Graces vassal, far unworthy
The nearness of your blood.

_Duke._ Correct me not, I know the word I speak,
And know the person.
Though I be something higher than the place
Where common men have motion, and descending
Down with my eye, their forms are lessened to me;
Yet from this pitch can I behold my own,
From millions of those men that have no mark,
And in my fearful stoop, can make them stand,
When others feel my feet, and perish: Cosin,
Be comforted, you are very welcome, so
Is your fair Wife: the charge of whom I give
To my own dearest, and best beloved.
Tell me, you have resolv'd your self for Court,
And utterly renounc'd the slavish Countrey,
With all the cares thereof?

_Cos._ I have, Sir.

_Duke._ Have you dismist your eating houshold,
Sold your hangings of _Nebuchadnezar_, for such they were,
As I remember, with the Furnitures
Belonging to your Beds and Chambers?

_Cos._ I Sir.

_Duke._ Have you most carefully ta'en off the Lead,
From you[r] roof, weak with age, and so prevented
The ruin of your house, and clapt him
In a summer suit of thatch to keep him cool?

_Cos._ All this I have perform'd.

_Duke._ Then lend me all your hands, I will embrace my Cosin
Who is an understanding Gentleman,
And with a zeal mighty, as is my name,
Once more I bid you welcome to the Court;
My state again.

_Duch._ As I was telling you, your Husband
Must be no more Commander, look to that,
Be several at meat, and lodging, let him have
Board-wages, and Diet, 'mongst his men i'th' Town
For pleasure, if he be given to't, let him have it,
Else as your own fancy shall direct you.
Cosin, you see this mighty man here: he was an ass
When he came first to Town: indeed he was
Just such another coxcomb as your Husband,
God bless the mark, and every good mans child!
This must not stir you Cosin.

_Wif._ Heaven forbid!

_Long._ Sweet _Maria_; provide the cushion ready for it.

_Mar._ It shall be done.

_Duke._ Receive all your advices from our self,
Be once a day with us, and so farewel
For this time, my fair Cosin, Gentlemen
Conduct him to his Lodging.

_Duch._ Farewel, and think upon my words.

_Wife._ I shall observe them. [_Exit Duke and Duchess._

_Cos._ Health, and the Kings continual love, attend you.

_Serv._ Oh for a private place to ease my Lungs!
Heaven give me patience, such a pair of jades
Were never better ridden to this hour,
Pray heaven they hold out to the journeys end.

_Long._ Twitch him aside good _Monsieur_, whilst I break
Upon the body of his strength, his wife,
I have a constant promise: she is my own.

_Serv._ Ply her to wind-ward _Monsieur_, you have taken
The most compendious way to raise your self,
That could have been delivered by a Counsel.

_Cos._ I have some certain aims, Sir: but my wife--

_Serv._ Your wife, you must not let that trouble you.

_Cos._ It will Sir, to see her in a strangers arms.

_Serv._ What mean you? let her alone, be wise, stir not a foot
For if you do, all your hopes are buried:
I swear you are a lost man if you stir.

_Cos._ I thank you Sir, I will be more advis'd.

_Serv._ But what great Office do you level at?

_Cos._ Sir, they are kissing.

_Serv._ Let them kiss,
And much may do their good hearts; they must kiss
And kiss, and double kiss, and kiss again,
Or you may kiss the post for any rising:
Had your noble kinsman ever mounted
To these high Spheres of honor, now he moves in,
But for the kisses of his wife?

_Cos._ I know not.

_Serv._ Then I do; credit me, he had been lost,
A fellow of no mark, and no repute.
Had not his wife kist soon, and very sweetly:
She was an excellent woman, and dispatcht him
To his full being, in a moment, Sir-- [_Exit_ Long. _and Wife_.

_Cos._ But yet methinks he [sh]ould not take her, Sir,
Into a private room.

_Serv._ Now stand and flourish,
You are a mad[e] man for ever.
I do envy you if you stand your fortunes up,
You are the happiest man, but your great Cosin,
This day in Court: well, I will marry surely,
And not let every man out-run me thus.
'Tis time to be mine own friend, I live
In town here, and direct the readiest way,
To other men, and be a slave my self.

_Cos._ Nay, good Sir be not mov'd, I am your servant,
And will not be ungrateful for this knowledge.

_Serv._ Will you be walking home?

_Cos._ I would desire to have my wife along.

_Serv._ You are too raw,
Begone, and take no notice where you left her,
Let her return at leasure, if she stay
A month, 'twill be the better, understand me
This Gentleman can do't. [_Exit Cosin._

_Cos._ I will Sir, and wife remember me, a Duke, a Duke wife.

_Serv._ Aboard her _Longaveile,_ she's thine own,
To me the fooling of this fool is venery. [_Exit Servant._

_Enter_ Bewford _and_ Jaques.

_Bew._ Come, prethee come, have I not crowns? behold
And follow me, here; not a word, go in
Grope by the walls, and you shall find a bed,
Lie down there, see, see, a turn or two, to give
My blood some heats, and I am presently
For action: darkness, by thy leave, I come. [_Exit_ Bew.

_Enter_ Maria.

_Ma._ I am perfect in my lesson, be my speed,
Thou god of marriage, this is the door, I'll knock.

Bew. _within_. Whose there, I cannot come yet.

_Ma._ Monsieur _Bewford_?

_Bew._ Stay till I light a candle, who are ye?

_Ma._ Sir? a poor Gentlewoman.

_Enter_ Bewford.

_Bew._ Oh come in, I'll find a time for you too, be not loud.

_Ma._ Sir, you have found that time already, shame
On my soul therefore.

_Bew._ Why? what's the matter?

_Ma._ Do you not see, Sir, is your light so dim?

_Bew._ Do you not wait on the Lady Mount _Marine_?

_Ma._ I do Sir, but my love on you.

_Bew._ Poor soul! how cam'st thou by this big belly?

_Ma._ By your self.

_Bew._ By heaven I ne'er touch'd your body.

_Ma._ Yes, unswear that oath again, I'll tell you all;
These two years I have lov'd you, but the means
How to enjoy you, I did never know
Till Twelf-night last, when hearing of your game
To take up wenches private in the night,
I apprehended straight this course to make
My self as one of them, and wait your coming;
I did so, and enjoyed you, and now this child
That now is quick within me, hide my shame,
And marry me, or else I must be forc'd--

_Long. within._ Monsieur _Bewford_, Monsieur _Bewford_.

_Bew._ Whose that calls?

_Long._ Are you a bed?

_Bew._ No Sir, the hangings.

_Enter_ Longaveil.

_Long._ Nay _Monsieur_, I'll forbid that, we'll have fair play,
Lend me your candle, are you taken _Bewford_?
A lecher of your practice, and close carriage
To be discovered thus? I am asham'd
So great a master in his art should fail,
And stagger in his grounds.

_Bew._ You're wide,
This woman and my self are man and wife,
And have been so this half year,
Where are you now? have I been discover'd?
You cannot break so easily on me, Sir,
I am too wary to be open'd by you.

_Long._ But these are but illusions, to give colour
To your most mystick leachery, but Sir,
The belly hath betraid you all, it must out.

_Bew._ Good _Longaveil_ believe me on my faith,
I am her husband.

_Long._ On my faith I cannot, unless I saw
Your hands fast, and your hearts.

_Bew._ Why _Longavile_, when did I give that to your ears,
That was not truth? by all the world she's mine,
She is my wife, and to confirm you better
I give my self again, here take my hand
And I yours, we are once more married,
Will this content you?

_Long._ Yes I am believing, and God give you joy.

_Bew._ My loving wife, I will not wrong thee,
Since I am thine and only loved of thee
From this hour I vow my self a new man,
Be not jealous: for though I had a purpose,
To have spent an hour or two in solace otherwise,
And was provided for it, yet my love
Shall put a better temper to my blood,
Come out thou woman of unwholsome life,
Be sorry for thy sins, and learn to mend,
Nay, never hide your face, you shall be seen.

_Long._ _Jaques_, why _Jaques_, art thou that _Jaques_,
The very staffe, and right hand of our Duke?
Speak, thou bearded _Venus_.

_Jaq._ I am he, by miracle preserv'd to be that _Jaques_,
Within this two hours Gentlemen, poor _Jaques_
Was but as coarse in grave: a man of wisdom,
That of my conscience, if he had his right
Should have a pretty State, but that's all one
That Noble Gentleman did save this life,
I keep it for him, 'tis his own.

_Long._ Oh _Bacchus_! is all the world drunk? come we'll to the Duke
And give thanks for this delivery.

_Actus Quintus. Scaena Prima._

_Enter Duke and_ Jaques.

_Duke._ Not gone unto my Tenants to relate
My Grace and Honor; [and] the mightiness
Of my new name, which would have struck a terror
Through their course doublets, to their very hearts?

_Jaq._ Alas, great Lord and Master, I could scarce
With safety of my life return again
Unto your graces house, and but for one
That had some mercy, I had sure been hang'd.

_Duke._ My house?

_J[a]q._ Yes Sir, this house, your house i' th' Town.

_Duke._ _Jaques_ we are displeas'd, hath it no name?

_Jaq._ What name?

_Duke._ Dull rogue; what hath the King bestow'd
So many honors, open'd all his springs,
And show'red his graces down upon my head,
And has my house no name? no title yet?
_Burgundy_ house you ass.

_Jaq._ Your graces mercy,
when I was come off, and had recover'd
_Burgundy_ house, I durst not yet be seen,
But lay all night for fear of pursevants
In _Burgundy_ privie house.

_Duke._ Oh Sir, 'tis well,
Can you remember now? but _Jaques_ know
Since thy intended journey is so crost,
I will go down my self this morning.

_Jaq._ Sir?

_Duke._ Have I not said this morning?

_Jaq._ But consider,
That nothing is prepared yet for your journey,
Your graces teams not here to draw your cloaths;
And not a Carrier yet in town to send by.

_Duke._ I say once more go about it,
You're a wise man, you'd have me linger time,
Till I have worn these cloaths out: will ye go? [_Ex._ Jaq.
Make ye ready Wife.

_Enter Wife._

_Duc._ I am so, mighty Duke.

_Duke._ Nay, for the Countrey.

_Duc._ How? for the Countrey?

_Duke._ Yes I am resolv'd to see my Tenants in this bravery,
Make them a sumptuous feast, with a slight shew,
Of _Dives_ and _Lazarus_, and a squib or two,
And so return.

_Duc._ Why Sir? you are not mad?

_Duke._ How many Dukes have ye known mad? I pray speak.

_Duc._ You are the first, Sir, and I hope the last,
But you are stark horn-mad.

_Duke._ Forbear good wife.

_Duc._ As I have faith you're mad: your horns
Have been too heavy for you, and have broke
Your skull in pieces: If you be in earnest.

_Duke._ Well, you shall know my skull and wits are whole
E'r I have done, and yet I am in earnest.

_Duc._ Why, do you think I'll go?

_Duke._ I know you shall.

_Duc._ I shall? by what authority shall I?

_Duke._ I am your Husband.

_Duc._ True, I confess it,
And by that name, the world hath given you
A power to sway me; but Sir, you shall know
There is a greater bond that ties me here,
Allegeance to the King, has he not heapt
Those honors on you to no other end,
But to stay you here, and shall I have a hand
In the offending such a gracious Prince?
Besides, our own undoings lies upon't,
Were there no other cause, I do not see,
Why you should go: If I should say you should not.

_Duke._ Do you think so?

_Duc._ Yes faith.

_Duke._ Now good wife make me understand that point.

_Duc._ Why that you shall, did I not bring you hither?

_Duke._ Yes.

_Duc._ And were not all these honors wrought out of the fire by me?

_Duke._ By you?

_Duc._ By me? how strange you make it!
When you came first, did you not walk the Town,
In a long Cloak half compass? an old Hat,
Lin'd with Vellure, and on it for a band,
A skein of crimson Cruil?

_Duke._ I confess it.

_Duc._ And took base courses?

_Duke._ Base?

_Duc._ Base, by this light, extream base, and scurvie, monstrous base.

_Du[k]e._ What were these courses, wife?

_Duc._ Why, you shall know,
Did you not thus attir'd, trot up and down,
Plotting for vild and lowsie Offices,
And agreed with the Sergeant of the Bears,
To buy his place? deny this, if you can.

_Duke._ Why it is true.

_Duc._ And was not that monstrous base?

_Duke._ Be advis'd wife, a Bear's a Princely beast.

_Duc._ A Bear?

_Duke._ Yes wife, and one side venison.

_Duc._ You're more than one side fool, [I'm] sure of that.

_Duke._ But since you have vext me wife, know you shall go;
Or you shall never have penny from me.

_Duc._ Nay, I have done, and though I know 'twill be
Your overthrow, I'll not forsake you now.

_Duke._ Be ready then. [_Exit Duke._

_Duc._ I will.

_Enter_ Bewf. Long. _Serv._ Maria.

_Long._ What are you married _Bewford_?

_Bew._ I, as fast as words, and hearts, and hands, and Priest can
make us.

_Duc._ Oh Gentlemen, we are undone.

_Long._ For what?

_Duc._ This Gentleman, the Lord of _Lor[n]e_, my Husband,
Will be gone down to shew his play-fellows
Where he is gay.

_Bew._ What, down into [the] Countrey?

_Duc._ Yes faith, was ever fool but he so cross?
I would as fain be gracious to him,
As he could wish me, but he will not let me;
Speak faithfully, will he deserve my mercy?

_Long._ According to his merits he should wear,
A guarded coat, and a great wooden dagger.

_Duc._ If there be any woman that doth know,
The duties 'twixt a Husband and his wife,
Will speak but one word for him, he shall scape;
Is not that reasonable? but there's none,
Be ready therefore, to pursue the plot
We had against a pinch, for he must stay.

_Long._ Wait you here for him, whilst I goe
And make the King acquainted with your sport,
For fear he be incens'd for our attempting
Places of so great honor. [_Exit_ Long.

_Duc._ Go, be speedy.

_Enter Duke_, _Cosin_, _Wife_, Jaques, _Man_.

_Duke._ Come let me see how all things are dispos'd of.

_Jaq._ One Cart will serve for all your furniture,
With room enough behind to ease the Footman,
A capcase for you[r] linnen, and your plate,
With a strange lock that opens with _Amen_,
For my young Lord, because of easie portage,
A quiver of your graces lin'd with Cunney,
Made to be hang'd about the Nurses neck,
Thus, with a Scarfe or Towel.

_Duke._ Very good.

_Jaq._ Nay, 'tis well, but had you staid another week,
I would have had you furnisht, in such pomp,
As never Duke of _Burgundy_ was furnisht,
You should have had a Sumpter, though 't had cost me
The laying on my self, where now you are fain,
To hire a Rippers mare, and buy new dossers,
But I have got them painted with your Arms,
With a fair darnex Carpet of my own
Laid cross for the more state.

_Duke._ _Jaques_ I thank you: your Carpet shall be brusht
And sent you home; what, are you ready wife?

_Duc._ An hour ago.

_Duke._ I cannot chuse but kiss thy royal Lips,
Dear _Duchess_ mine, thou art so good a woman.

_Bew._ Youl'd say so if you knew all, goodman Duckling.

_Cos._ This was the happiest fortune could befal me
Now in his absence will I follow close
Mine own preferment, and I hope e'r long,
To make my mean and humble name so strong,
As my great Cosins, when the world shall know,
I bear too hot a spirit to live low.
The next Spring will I down, my wife and houshold,
I'll have my Ushers, and my four Lacquies,
Six spare Caroches too, but mum, no more,
What I intend to do, I'll keep in store.

_Duke._ Mountey, mountey, _Jaques_, be our Querry.

_Groom._ To horse there Gentlemen, and fall in couples.

_Duke._ Come honoured Duchess.

_Enter_ Longavile.

_Long._ Stand thou proud man.

_Duke._ Thieves, _Jaques_, raise the people.

_Long._ No, raise no people, 'tis the Kings command,
Which bids thee once more stand, thou haughty man,
Thou art a monster, for thou art ungrateful,
And like a fellow of a rebel nature,
Hast flung from his embraces: and for
His honors given thee, hast not return'd
So much as thanks, and to oppose his Will,
Resolv'd to leave the Court, and set the Realm
A fire, in discontent, and open action:
Therefore he bids thee stand, thou proud man,
Whilst with the whisking of my sword about,
I take thy honors off: this first sad whisk
Takes off thy Dukedom, thou art but an Earl.

_Duke._ You are mistaken, _Longavile_.

_Long._ Oh would I were: this second whisk divides
Thy Earldom from thee, thou art yet a Baron.

_Duke._ No more whisks if you love me _Longavile_.

_Long._ Two whisks are past, and two are yet behind,
Yet all must come, but not to linger time.
With these two whisks I end, now mount _Marine_,
For thou art now no more, so says the King,
And I have done his Highness Will with grief.

_Duke._ Degraded from my honors?

_Long._ 'Tis too certain.

_Duke._ I am no Traitor sure, that I know of;
Speak _Jaques_, hast thou ever heard me utter word
Tending to Treason, or to bring in the enemy?

_Jaq._ Alas Sir, I know nothing,
Why should your Worship bring me in to hang me?
[God's my judge Gentlemen] I never medled
But with the brushing of his cloaths, or fetching
In water in a morning for his hands.

_Cos._ Are these the honors of this place? _Anthony_
Help me to take her Gown off quickly,
Or I'll so swinge ye for't--

_Wife._ Why Husband? Sir?

_Cos._ I'll not loose a penny by this town.

_Long._ Why what do you mean, Sir, have her to her lodging,
And there undress her, I will wait upon her.

_Cos._ Indeed you shall not, your month is out I take it,
Get you out before me wife:
Cosin farewel, I told you long agoe,
That pride begins with pleasure, ends with woe. [_Exit with's Wife._

_Bew._ Goe thy way sentences, 'twill be thy fortune,
To live and dye a Cuckold, and Churchwarden.

_Duc._ Oh my poor Husband! what a heavy fortune
Is fallen upon him!

_Bew._ Methinks 'tis strange,
That heaven fore-warning great men of their falls,
With such plain tokens, they should not avoid 'em:
For the last night betwixt eleven and twelve,
Two great and hideous blazing stars were seen
To fight a long hour by the clock, the one
Drest like a Duke, the other like a King;
Till at the last the crowned Star o'er-came.

_Serv._ Why do ye stand so dead, Monsieur _Marine_?

_Duke._ So _Caesar_ fell, when in the Capitol
They gave his body two and thirty wounds.
Be warned all ye Peers, and by my fall,
Hereafter learn to let your wives rule all.

_Serv._ Monsieur _Marine_, pray let me speak with you;
Sir, I must wave you to conceal this party,
It stands upon my utter overthrow;
Seem not discontented, nor do not stir afoot,
For if you do, you and your hope--
I swear you are a lost man if you stir.
And have an eye to _Bewford_, he'll tempt you.

_Bew._ Come, come, for shame go down;
Were I _Marine_, [by heaven] I would go down:
And being there, I would rattle him such an answer
Should make him smoke.

_Duke._ Good Monsieur _Bewford_, peace
Leave these rebellious words,
Or by the honors which I once enjoyed,
And yet may swear by,
I'll tell the King of your proceedings;
I am satisfied.

_Wife._ You talkt of going down when 'twas not fit,
But now let's see your spirit,
A thousand and a thousand will expect it.

_Duke._ Why wife, are ye mad?

_Wife._ No, nor drunk, but I'd have you know your own strength.

_Duke._ You talke like a most foolish woman, wife;
I tell you I will stay, yet I have a
Crotchet troubles me.

_Long._ More crotchets yet?

_Duke._ Follow me _Jaques_, I must have thy counsel,
I will return again, stay you there wife.

_Long._ I fear this loss of honor will give him some few stools.

_Wif._ No, no, he is resolv'd, he will not
Stir a foot, I'll lay my life.

_Bew._ I, but he's discontented, how shall we resolve that,
And make him stay with comfort?

_Wife._ Faith _Bewford_ we must even let nature work,
For he's the sweetest temper'd man for that
As one can wish, for let men but go about to fool him,
And he'll have his finger as deep in't as the best;
But see where he comes frowning, bless us all!

_Enter Duke._

_Duke._ Off with your hats, for here doth come
The high and mighty Duke of _Burgundy_.
What ever you may think, I have thought
And thought, and thought upon't, and I find it plain,
The King cannot take back what he has given,
Unless I forfeit it by course of Law.
Not all the water in the River _Seine_,
Can wash the blood out of these Princely veins.

_Wife._ God-a-mercy Husband, thou art the best
To work out a thing at a pinch in _France_.

_Duke._ I will ascend my State again,
Duchess, take your place,
And let our Champion enter.

_Long._ Has he his Champion? that's excellent.

_Duke._ And let loud Musick sound before his entrance.
Sound Trumpet.

_Enter_ Jaques _in Armor_, _one carrying a Scutcheon before
him_, _and a two-handed Sword_.

_Wife._ How well our Champion doth demean himself,
As if he had been made for such an action?
Methinks his sturdy truncheon he doth weild,
Like _Mars_ approaching to a bloody field.

_Duke._ I think there's no man so desperate
To dare encounter with our Champion,
But trust me, _Jaques_, thou hast pleas'd us well;
Once more our warlike Musick, then proceed.

_Enter_ Shattillion.

_Shat._ What wondrous age is this! what close proceedings!
I hear the clang of Trumpets in this house,
To what intent do not our States-men search?
Oh no, they look not into simple truth;
For I am true, and they regard not me,
A man in Armor too: God save the King,
The world will end, there's nought but treachery.

_Jaq._ I _Jaques_, servant to the high and mighty _Godfrey_,
Duke of _Burgundy_, do come hither to prove by natural
strength, and activity of my body, without the help of sorcery,
inchantment, or negromancy, that the said _Godfrey_,
late of _Mount Marine_, and now of _Burgundy_, hath perfect
right thereto, notwithstanding the Kings command to the
contrary, and no other person whatsoever: and in token
that I will be ready to make good the same: I throw down
my gage, which is my honor, pronounced the 37 of _Feb.
Stilo novo_, _God save the_ Duke.

_Shat._ Of all the plots the King hath laid for me
This was the shrewdest, 'tis my life they seek
And they shall have it: if I should refuse
To accept the challenge in the Kings behalf,
They have some cause to take away my life,
And if I do accept it, who can tell,
But I may fall by doubtful chance of War?
'Twas shrew'd, but I must take the least of evils,
I take thy gauntlet up, thou treacherous man,
That stands in armed Coat against the King.
Whom God preserve, and with my single sword,
Will justifie whatever he commands;
I'll watch him for catching of my words.

_Duke._ _Jaques_ go on, defend our Princely Title.

_Shat._ Why shrink'st thou back? thou hast an evil cause;
Come forward man, I have a rock about me,
I fight for my true Liege.

_Duke._ Go forward _Jaques_.

_Jaq._ I do beseech your Grace to pardon me,
I will not fight with him, with any else
I'll shew my resolution speedily.

_Shat._ Come, do thy worst, for the King shall see
All is not true, that is reported of me.

_Jaq._ I may not fight with him by Law of Arms.

_Duke._ What? shall my Title fall? wilt thou not fight?

_Jaq._ Never with him that once hath sav'd my life.

_Shat._ Dar'st thou not fight? behold then, I do go
Strong with the zeal I bear my Sovereign,
And seize upon that haughty man himself.
Descend the steps (that thou hast thus usurp'd
Against the King and State,) down to the ground,
And if thou do utter but a syllable
To cross the Kings intent, thou art but dead;
There, lye upon the earth, and pine, and dye.
Did ever any man wade through such storms
To save his life, as poor _Shattillion_?

_Long._ I fear this challenge hath spoil'd all.

_Duc._ Ne'er fear it, he'll work it out again, servant.
See where _Shattillion's_ Love, poor Lady, comes.

_Enter Love._

_Duke. Jaques._

_Jaq._ Lie still, Sir, if you love your life, I'll whistle when he's
gone,

_Love._ Oh Gentlemen, I charge you by the Love
Which you bear to women, take some pitty
On this distressed man, help to restore
That precious Jewel to him he hath lost.

_Bew._ Lady, what ever power doth lie in us
By Art, or Prayer, or danger, we are yours.

_Love._ A strange conceit hath wrought this malady,
Conceits again must bring him to himself,
My strict denial to his Will wrought this:
And if you could but draw his wilder thoughts
To know me, he would sure recover sense.

_Long._ That charge I'll undertake.

_Duke._ Look _Jaques_, look, for Gods sake let me rise,
This greatness is a jade, I cannot sit it.

_Jaq._ His sword is up, and yet he watcheth you.

_Du._ I'll down again, pray for thy Master, _Jaques_.

_Shat._ Now the King may see all the suggestions are not true,
He hath receiv'd against my loyalty;
When all men else refuse, I fight his battels,
And thrust my body into dangers mouth;
I am become his Champion, and this sword
Has taught his enemies to know themselves;
Oh that he would no more be jealous of me!

_Long._ Monsieur _Shattillion_, the King ass[ign]s you,
That for this valiant loyal act of yours,
He hath forgot all jealousies and fears,
And never more will tempt you into danger.

_Shat._ But how shall I believe this, what new token
Of reconcilement will he shew me?
Let him release my poor Love from her torment,
From her hard fare, and strict imprisonment.

_Long._ He hath done this to win your after-love,
And see your Lady sent you from the King
By these two Gentlemen: be thankful for her.

_Shat._ She lives, she lives, I know her by the power
Shoots from her eyes.

_Love._ Rise dear _Shattillion_.

_Shat._ I know my duty,
Next unto my King, I am to kneel to you.

_Love._ I'll have you rise, fetch me a chair, sit down _Shat_.

_Shat._ I am commanded, and faith tell me Mistriss,
What usage have you had? pray be plain!

_Love._ Oh my most lov'd _Shattillion_, pain enough,
But now I am free, thanks to my God and King.

_Long._ His eyes grow very heavy, not a word,
That his weak senses may come sweetly home.

_Shat._ The King is honourable.

_Duke._ When do you whistle _Jaques_?

_Jaq._ By and by.

_Long._ Come hither Monsieur, canst thou laugh a little?

_Serv._ Yes Sir.

_Long._ So thou shalt then. _Bewford_, how dost thou?

_Bew._ Why well.

_Long._ I'm glad on't, and how does thy wife?

_Bew._ Why, you may see her, Sir, she stands behind you.

_Long._ By the mass she's there indeed, but where's her belly?

_Bew._ Belly?

_Long._ Her great belly, man; what hast thou sent thee?

_Serv._ A Boy, I'll lay my life, it tumbled so.

_Bew._ Catcht by this light.

_Long._ I'll be a Gossip _Bewford_.

_Serv._ And I.

_Long._ I have an odd Apostle spoon.

_Bew._ S'foot, catcht.

_Duc._ Why, what's the matter, Gentlemen?

_Long._ He's married to your woman.

_Duc._ And I not know it?

_Serv._ 'Twas a venial sin.

_Bew._ Gall, gall, gall.

_Duc._ Forgive her, Monsieur _Bewford_, 'twas her love.

_Bew._ You may rise if you please, I must endure it.

_Long._ See how my great Lord lies upon the ground
And dare not stir yet!
_Jaques_ whistles?

_Duke._ _Jaques_, _Jaques_, is the Kings Champion gon yet?

_Jaq._ No, but he's asleep.

_Duke._ Is he asleep art sure?

_Jaq._ I am sure he is, I hear him snore.

_Duke._ Then by your favours Gentlemen I rise,
And know I am a Duke still.

_Jaq._ And I am his Champion.

_Duc._ Hold thee there, and all _France_ cannot mend thee.

_Duke._ I am a Prince as great within my thoughts
As when the whole state did adorn my person;
What trial can be made to try a Prince?
I will [o]ppose this noble corps of mine
To any danger that may end the doubt.

_Duc._ Great Duke, and Husband, there is but one way
To satisfie the world of our true right,
And it is dangerous.

_Duke._ What may it be?
Were it to bring the great Turk bound in chains
Through _France_ in triumph: or to couple up
The _Sophie_, and great _Prestor John_ together,
I would attempt it Duchess, tell the course.

_Duc._ There is a strong opinion through the world,
And no doubt, grounded on experience,
That Lions will not touch a lawful Prince,
If you be confident then of your right,
Amongst the Lions bear your naked body,
And if you come off clear, and never winch,
The world will say you are a perfect Prince.

_Duke._ I thank you Duchess, for your kind advice,
But now we do not affect those ravenous beasts.

_Long._ A Lion is a beast to try a King;
But for the trial of such a state like this
_Pliny_ reports a mastive dog will serve.

_Duke._ We will not deal with dogs at all, but men.

_Serv._ You shall not need to deal with them at all,
Hark you Sir, the King doth know you are a Duke:

_Duke._ No, does he?

_Serv._ Yes, and is content you shall be, but with this caution,
That none know it but your self:
For if ye do, he'll take it away by Act of Parliament.

_Duke._ Here's my hand, and whilst I live or breath,
No living wight shall know I am a Duke.

_Serv._ Mark me directly, Sir, your wife may know it.

_Duke._ May not _Jaques_.

_Serv._ Yes, he may.

_Duke._ May not my Countrey Cosin?

_Serv._ By no means, Sir, if you love your life and state.

_Duke._ Well then, know all, I am no Duke.

_Serv._ No, I'll swear it.

_Long._ See, he wakes.

_Shat._ Where am I, or where have I been all this while?
Sleep hath not sate so sound upon mine eyes
But I remember well that face;
Oh thou too cruel, leave at length to scorn
Him that but looking on thy beauty, dies,
Either receive me, or put out my eyes.

_Love._ Dearest _Shattillion_, see upon my knees,
I offer up my love, forget my wrongs.

_Shat._ Art thou mine own?

_Love._ By heaven I am.

_Shat._ Then all the world is mine.

_Love._ I have stranger things to tell thee, my dearest love.

_Shat._ Tell nothing, but that thou art mine own:
I do not care to know where I have been,
Or how I have liv'd, or any thing,
But that thou art my own.

_Bew._ Well wife, though 'twere a trick that made us wed,
We'll make our selves merry soon in bed.

_Duke._ Know all, I am no Duke.

_Wife._ What [saye]?

_Duke._ _Jaques?_

_Jaq._ Sir.

_Duke._ I am a Duke.

_Both._ Are ye?

_Duke._ Yes faith, yes faith.
But it must only run among our selves,
And _Jaques_, thou shalt be my Secretary still.

_Wife._ Kind Gentlemen, lead in _Shattillion_,
For he must needs be weak and sickly yet.
Now all my labours have a perfect end, as I could wish,
Let all young sprightly wives that have
Dull foolish coxcombs to their Husbands,
Learn by me their duties, what to do,
Which is, to make 'em fools, and please 'em too. [_Exeunt._

EPILOGUE.

_The Monuments of virtue, and desert,
Appear more goodly, when the gloss of Art
Is eaten off by time, than when at first
They were set up, not censur'd at the worst.
We'ave done our best, for your contents to fit,
With new pains, this old monument of wit._

THE
CORONATION.
A Comedy.

The Persons represented in the Play.

_Philocles._
_Lisander._
_Cassander._
_Lisimachus._
_Antigonu._
_Arcadius._
_Macarius._
_Seleucus._
_Queen._
_Charilla._
_Polidora._
_Nestorius._
_Eubulus._
_A Bishop._
_Polianus._
_Sophia._
_Demetrius._
_Gentlemen and Gentlewomen._
_Servants and Attendants._

PROLOGUE.

_Since 'tis become the Title of our Play,
A woman once in a [Coronation may]
With pardon, speak the_ Prologue, _give as free
A welcome to the Theatre, as he
That with a little Beard, a long black Cloak,
With a starch'd face, and supple leg hath spoke
Before the Plays the twelvemonth, let me then
Present a welcome to these Gentlemen,
If you be kind, and noble, you will not
Think the worse of me for my Petticote:
But to the Play, the Poet bad me tell
His fears first in the Title, lest i[t] swell
Some thoughts with expectation of a strain,
That but once could be seen in a Kings Reign,
This Coronation, he hopes you may
See often, while the genius of his Play,
Doth prophesie, the Conduits may run Wine,
When the days triumph's ended, and divine
Brisk Nectar swell his Temple[s] to a rage,
With something of more price t' invest the Stage.
There rests but to prepare you, that although
It be a Coronation, there doth flow
No undermirth, such as doth lard the Scene
For course delight the language here is clean.
And confident, our Poet bade me say,
He'll bate you but the folly of a Play.
For which, although dull souls his Pen despise,
Who thinks it yet too early to be wise.
The nobler will thank his Muse, at least
Excuse him, cause his thought aim'd at the best,
But we conclude not, it does rest in you.
To censure Poet, Play, and Prologue too.
But what have I omitted? is there not
A blush upon my cheeks that I forgot
The Ladies, and a Femal Prologue too?
Your pardon noble Gentlewomen, you
Were first within my thoughts, I know you sit
As free, and high Commissioners of wit,
Have clear, and active souls, nay, though the men
Were lost in your eyes, they'll be found agen,
You are the bright intelligences move,
And make a harmony this sphere of Love,
Be you propitious then, our Poet says,
Our wreath from you, is worth their grove of Bayes:_

_Actus Primus. Scaena Prima._

_Enter_ Philocles _and_ Lisander.

_Phi._ Make way for my Lord Protector.

_Lisan._ Your graces servants.

_Enter_ Cassander, _and_ Lisimachus.

_Cas._ I like your diligent waiting, where's _Lisimachus_?

_Lisi._ I wait upon you, Sir.

_Cas._ The Queen looks pleasant
This morning, does she not?

_Lis._ I ever found
Her gracious smiles on me.

_Cas._ She does consult
Her safety in't, for I must tell thee boy,
But in the assurance of her love to thee,
I should advance thy hopes another way,
And use the power I have in _Epire_, to
Settle our own, and uncontrouled greatness;
But since she carries her self so fairly,
I am content to expect, and by her marriage
Secure thy fortune, that's all my ambition
Now, be still careful in thy applications
To her, I must attend other affairs,
Return, and use what Art thou canst to lay
More charms of love upon her.

_Lis._ I presume
She always speaks the language of her heart,
And I can be ambitious for no more
Happiness on earth, than she encourages
Me to expect.

_Cas._ It was an act becoming
The wisdom of her Father to engage
A tye between our Families, and she
Hath play'd her best discretion to allow it;
But we lose time in conference, wait on her,
And be what thou wert born for, King of _Epire_,
I must away. [_Exit._

_Lis._ Success ever attend you.
Is not the Queen yet coming forth?

_Lisa._ Your servant,
You may command our duties,
This is the Court Star, _Philocles_.

_Phi._ The Star that we must sail by.

_Lisa._ All must borrow
A light from him, the young Queen directs all
Her favours that way.

_Phi._ He's a noble Gentleman,
And worthy of his expectations:
Too good to be the son of such a Father.

_Lisa._ Peace, remember he is Lord Protector.

_Phil._ We have more need of Heavens Protection
I' th' mean time, I wonder the old King
Did in his life, design him for the office.

_Lisa._ He might expect his faith, I have heard when
The King, who was no _Epirote_, advanc'd
His claim, _Cassander_, our Protector now,
Young then, oppos'd him toughly with his faction,
But forc'd to yield, had fair conditions,
And was declar'd by the whole State, next heir;
If the King wanted issue, our hopes only
Thriv'd in this daughter.

_Phi._ Whom but for her smiles
And hope of marriage with _Lisimachus_,
His Father, by some cunning, had remov'd
E'r this.

_Lisa._ Take heed, the Arras may have ears
I should not weep much if his grace would hence
Remove to Heaven.

_Phi._ I prethee what should he do there?

_Lisa._ Some Offices will fall.

_Phi._ And the Skie too, e'r I get one stair higher
While he's in place.

_Enter_ Antigonus.

_Ant._ _Lisander_, _Philocles_,
How looks the day upon us? where's the Queen?

_Phi._ In her bed-chamber.

_Ant._ Who was with her?

_Lisa._ None but the young Lord _Lisimachus_.

_Ant._ 'Tis no treason
If a man wish himself a Courtier
Of such a possibility: he has
The mounting fate.

_Phi._ I would his Father were
Mounted to th' gallows.

_Ant._ He has a path fair enough,
If he survive by title of his Father.

_Lisa._ The Queen will hasten his ascent.

_Phi._ Would I were Queen.

_Ant._ Thou wou'dst become rarely the petticoat,
What wou'dst thou do?

_Phi._ Why, I wou'd marry
My Gentleman usher, and trust all the strength
And burden of my State upon his legs,
Rather than be call'd wife by any son
Of such a Father.

_Lisa._ Come, let's leave this subject,
We may find more secure discourse; when saw
You young _Arcadius_, Lord _Macarius's_ Nephew?

_Ant._ There's a spark, a youth moulded for a Favourite,
The Queen might do him honor.

_Phi._ Favourite, 'tis too cheap a name, there were a match
Now for her Virgin blood.

_Lisa._ Must every man
That has a handsome face or leg, feed such
Ambition: I confess I honor him,
He has a nimble soul, and gives great hope
To be no woman-hater, dances handsomly,
Can court a Lady powerfully, but more goes
To th' making of a Prince. He's here
And's Uncle.

_Enter_ Arcadius, Macarius, Seleucus.

_Sel._ Save you Gentlemen, who can direct me
To find my Lord Protector?

_Lisa._ He was here
Within this half hour, young _Lisimachus_
His Son is with the Queen.

_Sel._ There let him compliment,
I have other business, ha, _Arcadius_! [_Exit._

_Phi._ Observ'd you, with what eyes _Arcadius_
And he saluted, their two families
Will hardly reconcile.

_Ant._ _Seleucus_ carries
Himself too roughly; with what pride and scorn
He past by 'em.

_Lisa._ Th'other with less shew
Of anger, carries pride enough in's soul,
I wish 'em all at peace, _Macarius_ looks
Are without civil war, a good old man,
The old King lov'd him well, _Seleucus_ Father
Was as dear to him, and maintain'd the character
Of an honest Lord through _Epire_: that two men
So lov'd of others, should be so unwelcome
To one another.

_Arc._ The Queen was not wont to send for me.

_Mac._ The reason's to her self,
It will become your duty to attend her.

_Arc._ Save you Gentlemen, what novelty
Does the Court breathe to day?

_Lisa._ None Sir, the news
That took the last impression is, that you
Purpose to leave the Kingdom, and those men,
That honor you, take no delight to hear it.

_Arc._ I have ambition to see the difference
Of Courts, and this may spare; the delights
At home do surfet, and the Mistriss, whom
We all do serve, is fixt upon one object,
Her beams are too much pointed, but no Countrey
Shall make me lose your memories.

_Enter Queen_, Lisimachus, Macarius, Charilla.

_Qu._ _Arcadius._

_Mac._ Your Lordship honor'd me,
I have no blessing in his absence.

_Lis._ 'Tis done like a pious Uncle.

_Qu._ We must not
Give any licence.

_Arc._ If your Majesty
Would please.

_Qu._ We are not pleas'd, it had become your duty,
To have first acquainted us, e'r you declar'd
Your resolution publick, is our Court
Not worth your stay?

_Arc._ I humbly beg your pardon.

_Qu._ Where's _Lysimachus_?

_Lis._ Your humble servant, Madam.

_Qu._ We shall find
Employment at home for you, do not lose us.

_Arc._ Madam, I then write my self blest on earth
When I may do you service.

_Qu._ We would be private, _Macarius_.

_Mac._ Madam, you have blest me,
Nothing but your command could interpose to
Stay him.

_Qu._ _Lisimachus_,
You must not leave us.

_Lisa._ Nothing but _Lisimachus_? has she not
Ta'en a philter?

_Qu._ Nay, pray be cover'd, Ceremony from you,
Must be excus'd.

_Lisi._ It will become my duty.

_Qu._ Not your love?
I know you would not have me look upon
Your person as a Courtier, not as Favorite;
That Title were too narrow to express
How we esteem you.

_Lis._ The least of all
These names from you, Madam, is grace enough.

_Qu._ Yet here you wou'd not rest?

_Lis._ Not if you please:
To say there is a happiness beyond,
And teach my ambition how to make it mine,
Although the honors you already have
Let fall upon your servant, exceed all
My merit; I have a heart is studious
To reach it with desert, and make i[f] possible
Your favor's mine by justice, with your pardon.

_Qu._ We are confident this needs no pardon, Sir,
But a reward to cherish your opinion,
And that you may keep warm your passion,
Know we resolve for marriage, and if
I had another gift, beside my self,
Greater, in that you should discern, how much
My heart is fixt.

_Lis._ Let me digest my blessing.

_Qu._ But I cannot resolve when this shall be.

_Lis._ How Madam? do not make me dream of Heaven,
And wake me into misery, if your purpose
Be, to immortalize your humble servant,
Your power on earth's divine, Princes are here
The copies of Eternity, and create,
When they but will our happiness.

_Qu._ I shall
Believe you mock me in this argument,
I have no power.

_Lis._ How, no power?

_Qu._ Not as a Queen.

_Lis._ I understand you not.

_Qu._ I must obey, your Father's my Protector.

_Lis._ How?

_Qu._ When I am absolute, _Lisimachus_,
Our power and Titles meet, before, we are but
A shadow, and to give you that were nothing.

_Lis._ Excellent Queen,
My love took no original from State,
Or the desire of other greatness,
Above what my birth may challenge modestly,
I love your virtues; mercenary souls
Are taken with advancement, you've an Empire
Within you, better than the worlds, to that
Looks my ambition.

_Qu._ T'other is not, Sir,
To be despis'd, Cosmography allows
_Epire_, a place i' th' Map, and know till I
Possess what I was born to, and alone
Do grasp the Kingdoms Scepter, I account
My self divided, he that marries me
Shall take an [a]bsolute Queen to his warm bosom,
My temples yet are naked, until then
Our Loves can be but compliments, and wishes,
Yet very hearty ones.

_Lis._ I apprehend.

_Qu._ Your Father.

_Enter_ Cassander _and_ Seleucus.

_Cas._ Madam, a Gentleman has an humble suit.

_Qu._ 'Tis in your power to grant, you are Protector,
I am not yet a Queen.

_Cas._ How's this?

_Lis._ I shall expound her meaning.

_Qu._ Why kneel you, Sir?

_Sel._ Madam, to reconcile two families
That may unite, both Counsels and their blood
To serve your Crown.

_Qu._ _Macarius_, and _Eubulus_
That beare inveterate malice to each other.
It grew, as I have heard, upon the question
Which some of either family had made
Which of their Fathers was the best Commander:
If we believe our stories, they have both
Deserved well of our state, and yet this quarrel
Has cost too many lives, a severe faction.

_Sel._ But I'll propound a way to plant a quiet
And peace in both our houses, which are torn
With their dissentions, and lose the glory
Of their great names, my blood speaks my relation
To _Eubulus_, and I wish my veins were emptied
To appease their war.

_Qu._ Thou hast a noble soul,
This is a charity above thy youth,
And it flows bravely from thee, name the way.

_Sel._ In such a desperate cause, a little stream
Of blood might purge the foulness of their hearts
If you'll prevent a deluge.

_Qu._ Be particular.

_Sel._ Let but your Majesty consent that two
May with their personal valour, undertake
The honor of their family, and determine
Their difference.

_Qu._ This rather will inlarge
Their hate, and be a means to call more blood
Into the stream.

_Sel._ Not if both families
Agree, and swear--

_Qu._ And who shall be the Champions?

_Sel._ I beg the honor, for _Eubulus_ cause
To be ingag'd, if any for _Macarius_,
Worthy to wager heart with mine, accept it,
I am confident, _Arcadius_,
For honor would direct me to his sword,
Will not deny, to stake against my life
His own, if you vouchsafe us priviledge.

_Qu._ You are the expectation, and top boughs
Of both your houses, it would seem injustice,
To allow a civil war to cut you off,
And your selves the instruments, besides
You appear a soldier; _Arcadius_
Hath no acquaintance yet with rugged war,
More fit to drill a Lady, than expose
His body to such dangers: a small wound
I'th' head, may spoil the method of his hair,
Whose curiosity exacts more time,
Than his devotion, and who knows but he
May lose his ribond by it in his lock,
Dear as his Saint, with whom he would exchange
His head, for her gay colours; then his band
May [b]e disorder'd, and transform'd from Lace
To Cutwork, his rich cloaths be discomplexioned
With bloud, beside the infashionable slashes:
And at the next Festival take Physick,
Or put on black, and mourn for his slain breeches:
His hands cas'd up in gloves all night, and sweet
_Pomatum_: the next day may be endanger'd
To blisters with a sword, how can he stand
Upon his guard, who hath Fidlers in his head,
To which, his feet must ever be a dancing?
Beside a falsify may spoil his cringe,
Or making of a leg, in which consists
Much of his Court-perfection.

_Sel._ Is this Character
Bestow'd on him?

_Qu._ It something may concern the Gentleman,
Whom if you please to challenge
To Dance, play on the Lute, or Sing.

_Sel._ Some [catch]?

_Qu._ He shall not want those will maintain him
For any sum.

_Sel._ You are my Sovereign,
I dare not think, yet I must speak somewhat,
I shall burst else, I have no skill in Jiggs,
Nor Tumbling.

_Qu._ How Sir?

_Sel._ Nor was I born a Minstrel, and in this you have
So infinitely disgrac'd _Arcadius_.
But that I have heard another Character,
And with your royal Licence do believe it,
I should not think him worth my killing.

_Qu._ Your killing?

_Sel._ Does she not jeer me;
I shall talk treason presently, I find it
At my tongues end already, this is an
Affront, I'll leave her.

_Qu._ Come back, do you know _Arcadius_?

_Sel._ I ha' chang'd but little breath with him; our persons
Admit no familiarity; we were
Born to live both at distance, yet I ha' seen him
Fight, and fight bravely.

_Qu._ When the spirit of Wine
Made his brain valiant, he fought bravely.

_Sel._ Although he be my enemy, should any
Of the gay flies that buzze about the Court,
Sit to catch trouts i'th' summer, tell me so,
I durst in any presence but your own.

_Qu._ What?

_Sel._ Tell him he were not honest.

_Qu._ I see _Sele[u]cus_, thou art resolute,
And I but wrong'd _Arcadius_, your first
Request is granted, you shall fight, and he
That conquers be rewarded, to confirm
First place and honor to his Family:
Is it not this you plead for?

_Sel._ You are gracious.

_Qu._ _Lisimachus._

_Lis._ Madam.

_Cas._ She has granted then?

_Sel._ With much ado.

_Cas._ I wish thy sword may open
His wanton veins, _Macarius_ is too popular,
And has taught him to insinuate.

_Qu._ It shall
But haste the confirmation of our loves,
And ripen the delights of marriage, _Seleucus_. [_Exit cum_ Sel.

_Lis._ As I guest,
It cannot be too soon.

_Cas._ To morrow then we crown her, and invest
My Son with Majesty, 'tis to my wishes,
Beget a race of Princes, my _Lisimachus_.

_Lis._ First, let us marry, Sir.

_Cas._ Thy brow was made
To wear a golden circle, I'm transported,
Thou shalt rule her, and I will govern thee.

_Lis._ Although you be my Father, that will not
Concern my obedience, as I take it.

_Enter_ Philocles, Lisander, _and_ Antigonus.

Gentlemen,
Prepare your selves for a solemnity
Will turn the Kingdom into triumph, _Epire_
Look fresh to morrow, 'twill become your duties
In all your glory, to attend the Queen
At her Coronation, she is pleased to make
The next day happy in our Calendar,
My office doth expire, and my old blood
Renews with thought on't.

_Phi._ How's this?

_Ant._ Crown'd to morrow.

_Lisa._ And he so joyful to resign his Regency,
There's some trick in't, I do not like these hasty
Proceedings, and whirls of state, they have commonl[y]
As strange and violent effects; well, heaven save the Queen.

_Phi._ Heaven save the Queen, say I, and send her a sprightly
Bed-fellow, for the Protector, let him pray for
Himself, he is like to have no benefit of my devotion.

_Cas._ But this doth quicken my old heart, _Lisimachus_,
There is not any step into her throne,
But is the same degree of thy own state;
Come Gentlemen.

_Lisa._ We attend your grace.

_Cas._ _Lisimachus._