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When I am ashes, is my son in wishes;
And those chaste dames that keep my memory,
Singing my yearly requiems, are my daughters.
Thi. Then there is nothing wanting but my
knowledge,

And what I must do, lady.

Ord. You are the king, sir,

And what you do I'll suffer; and that blessing That you desire, the gods shower on the kingdom!

Thi. Thus much before I strike then; for I must kill you,

The gods have will'd it so: Thou'rt made the blessing

Must make France young again, and me a man. Keep up your strength still nobly!

Ord. Fear me not.

Thi. And meet Death like a measure!
Ord. I am stedfast.

Thi. Thou shalt be sainted, woman; and thy tomb

Cut out in crystal, pure and good as thou art;
And on it shall be graven every age;
Succeeding peers of France that rise by thy fall,
Tell thou liest there like old and fruitful Nature.
Dar'st thou behold thy happiness?

Ord. I dare, sir.

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For may this work be done by common women?
Durst any but myself, that knew the blessing,
And felt the benefit, assume this dying?
In any other, 't had been lost and nothing,
A curse and not a blessing: I was figur'd;
And shall a little fondness bar my purchase?

Mart. Where should he then seek children?
Ord. Where they are;

In wombs ordain'd for issues; in those beauties That bless a marriage-bed, and make it procreant With kisses that conceive, and fruitful pleasures: Mine, like a grave, buries those loyal hopes, And, too, a grave it covets.

Mart. You are too good,

Too excellent, too honest! Rob not us,
And those that shall hereafter seek example,
Of such inestimable worth in woman,

Thi. Ha! [Pulls off her veil, lets fall his sword. Your lord of such obedience, all of honour!

Mart. Oh, sir, you must not do it.

Thi. No, I dare not!

There is an angel keeps that paradise,
A fiery angel, friend. Oh, virtue, virtue,
Ever and endless virtue !

Ord. Strike, sir, strike!

And if in my poor death fair France may merit,
Give me a thousand blows! be killing me
A thousand days!

Thi. First, let the earth be barren, And man no more remember'd! Rise, Ordella, The nearest to thy Maker, and the purest That ever dull flesh shew'd us!-Oh, my heartstrings! [Exit.

Mart. I see you full of wonder; therefore, noblest,

And truest amongst women, I will tell you
The end of this strange accident.

Ord. Amazement

Has so much won upon my heart, that truly
I feel myself unfit to hear: Oh, sir,
My lord has slighted me!

Mart. Oh, no, sweet lady.

Ord. Robb'd me of such a glory, by his pity And most unprovident respectMart. Dear lady,

It was not meant to you.

Ord. Else where the day is,

And hours distinguish time, time runs to ages, And ages end the world, I had been spoken! Mart. I'll tell you what it was, if but your patience

Will give me hearing.

Ord. If I have transgress'd,

Forgive me, sir!

Mart. Your noble lord was counsell'd

In coveting a cruelty is not yours,

A will short of your wisdom, make not error
A tombstone of your virtues, whose fair life
Deserves a constellation! Your lord dare not,
He cannot, ought not, must not run this hazard;
He makes a separation nature shakes at,
The gods deny, and everlasting justice
Shrinks back, and sheaths her sword at.
Ord. All's but talk, sir!

I find to what I am reserv'd, and needful:
And tho' my lord's compassion makes me poor,
And leaves me in my best use, yet a strength
Above mine own, or his dull fondness, finds me:
The gods have given it to me. [Draws a knife.
Mart. Self-destruction?

Now all good angels bless thee! oh, sweet lady!
You are abus'd; this is a way to shame you,
And with you all that know you, all that love

you;

To ruin all you build! Would you be famous? Is that your end?

Ord. I would be what I should be.

Mart. Live and confirm the gods then! live and be loaden

With more than olives bear, or fruitful autumn!
This way you kill your merit, kill your cause,
And him you would raise life to: Where or how
Got you these bloody thoughts? what devil durst
Look on that angel face, and tempt? do you
know

What 'tis to die thus ? how you strike the stars,
And all good things above us? do you feel
What follows a self-blood? whither you venture,
And to what punishment? Excellent lady,
Be not thus cozen'd! do not fool yourself!
The priest was never his own sacrifice,

L

But he that thought his hell here.

Ord. I am counsell'd.

And we will stand or fall together: For
Since we have gone so far, that death must stay

Mart. And i am glad on't; lie, I know you The journey, which we wish should never end,

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Whether this plot be heav'n's, or hell's your To look upon it. mother!

And I will find it, if it be in mankind

To search the centre of it: In the mean time,
F'll give you out for dead, and by yourself,
And shew the instrument; so shall I find
A joy that will betray her.

Ord. Do what's fittest;

And I will follow

you.

Mart. Then ever live

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Or fear made him forbear to execute,
The vengeance he determin'd his fond pity
Shall draw it on himself; for were there left
Not any man but he, to serve my pleasures,
Or from me to receive commands, (which are
The joys for which I love life) he should be
Remov'd, and I alone left to be queen
O'er any part of goodness that's left in me.
Lec. If you are so resolv'd, I have provided
A means to ship him hence: Look upon this,
But touch it sparingly; for this once us'd,
Say but to dry a tear, will keep the eye-lid
From closing, until death perform that office.
Brun. Give't me! I may have use of 't; and

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Brun. Coward, I will meet it,

And know from whence't has birth.--Son! kingly Thierry!

Thi. Is cheating grown so common among men, And thrives so well here, that the gods endeavour To practise it above?

Brun. Your mother!

Thi. Ha!

Or are they only careful to revenge,
Not to reward? or when, for our offences,
We study satisfaction, must the cure
Be worse than the disease?

Brun. Will you not hear me?

Thi. To lose the ability to perform those duties For which I entertain'd the name of husband, Ask'd more than common sorrow; but to impose, For the redress of that defect, a torture In marking her to death, (for whom alone I felt that weakness as a want) requires More than the making the head bald, or falling Thus flat upon the earth, or cursing that way, Or praying this. Oh, such a scene of grief, And so set down, (the world the stage to act on) May challenge a tragedian better practis'd Than I am to express it! for my cause Of passion is so strong, and my performance So weak, that tho' the part be good, I fear The ill acting of it will defraud it of The

poor reward it may deserve, mens' pity. Brun. I've given you way thus long: A king,

and what

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Thi. How dare you then omit the ceremony Due to the funeral of all my hopes? Or come unto the marriage of my sorrows, But in such colours as may sort with them? Prot. Alas, we will wear any thing. Brun. This is madness!

Take but my counsel !

Thi. Yours? dare you again,

Tho' arm'd with the authority of a mother, Attempt the danger that will fall on you, If such another syllable awake it?

Go, and with yours be safe; I have such cause Of grief, (nay more, to love it) that I will not Have such as these be sharers in it.

Lec. Madam!

Prot. Another time were better.
Brun. Do not stir,

For I must be resolv'd, and will: Be statues !

Enter MARTELL.

Thi. Ay, thou art welcome; and upon my soul Thou art an honest man. Do you see! he has

tears

To lend to him whom prodigal expence

Of sorrow has made bankrupt of such treasure! Nay, thou dost well.

Mart. I would it might excuse

The ill I bring along!

Thi. Thou mak'st me smile

I' th' heighth of my calamities: As if

There could be the addition of an atom,

To the giant-body of my miseries!

Made such a battery in the choicest castle
That ever Nature made to defend life,
That straight it shook and sunk.
Thi. Stay! dares any

Presume to shed a tear before me? or
Ascribe that worth unto themselves to merit,
To do so for her? I have done; now on!

Mart. Fall'n thus, once more she smil'd, as if that Death

For her had studied a new way to sever
The soul and body, without sense of pain;
And then, Tell him, quoth she, what you have

seen,

And with what willingness 'twas done! for which
My last request unto him is, that he

Would instantly make choice of one (most happy
In being so chosen) to supply my place;
By whom if Heav'n bless him with a daughter,
In my remembrance let it bear my name!
Which said, she died.

Thi. I hear this, and yet live!

But try; for I will hear thee. All sit down! tis Heart! art thou thunder-proof? will nothing

death

To any that shall dare to interrupt him

In look, gesture, or word.

Mart. And such attention

As is due to the last, and the best story
That ever was deliver'd, will become you.
The griev'd Ordella (for all other titles
But take away from that) having from me,
Prompted by your last parting groan, enquir'd
What drew it from you, and the cause soon learn'd;
For she whom barbarism could deny nothing,
With such prevailing earnestness desir'd it,
'Twas not in me, tho' it had been my death,
To hide it from her: She, I say, in whom
All was, that Athens, Rome, or warlike Sparta,
Have register'd for good in their best women,
But nothing of their ill; knowing herself
Mark'd out (I know not by what power, but sure
A cruel one) to die, to give you children;
Having first with a settled countenance
Look'd up to heaven, and then upon herself,
(K being the next best object) and then smil'd,
As if her joy in death to do you service

Would break forth, in despite of the much sorrow
She shew'd she had to leave you; and then taking
Me by the hand, (this hand, which I must ever
Love better than I have done, since she touch'd it)
Go, said she, to my lord, (and to go to him
Is such a happiness I must not hope for)
And tell him that he too much priz'd a trifle
Made only worthy in his love, and her
Thankful acceptance, for her sake to rob
The orphan kingdom of such guardians, as
Must of necessity descend from him;
And therefore, in some part of recompence
Of his much love, and to shew to the world
That 'twas not her fault only, but her fate,
That did deny to let her be the mother
Of such most certain blessings; yet, for proof
She did not envy her, that happy her,
That is appointed to them, her quick end
Should make way for her. Which no sooner spoke,
But in a moment this too-ready engine

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Thì. Oh,

Thou dost throw charms upon me, against which
I cannot stop my ears: Bear witness, Heaven!
That not desire of life, nor love of pleasures,
Nor any future comforts, but to give
Peace to her blessed spirit, in satisfying
Her last demand, makes me defer our meeting?
Which in my choice, and sudden choice, shall be
To all apparent.

Brun. How do I remove one mischief,
To draw upon my head a greater?
Thi. Go,

Thou only good man, to whom for herself
Goodness is dear, and prepare to inter it
In her that was! Oh, my heart, my Ordella!
A monument worthy to be the casket
Of such a jewel.

Mart. Your command, that makes way
Unto my absence, is a welcome one;
For, but yourself, there's nothing here Martell
Can take delight to look on: Yet some comfort
Goes back with me to her, who, tho' she want it,

Deserves all blessings.

Brun. So soon to forget

The loss of such a wife, believe it, will Be censur'd in the world.

Thi. Pray you, no more!

[Exit. Be fearful, I am still no man; already That weakness is gone from me.

There is no argument you can use to cross it,
But does encrease in me such a suspicion
I would not cherish.-Who's that?

Enter MEMBERGE.

Memb. One, no guard

Can put back from access, whose tongue no threats
Nor pray'rs can silence! a bold suitor, and
For that which, if you are yourself, a king,
You were made so to grant it: Justice, justice!
Thi. With what assurance dare you hope for
that

Which is denied to me? or how can I

Stand bound to be just unto such as are Beneath me, that find none from those that are Above me?

Memb. There is justice: 'Twere unfit That any thing but vengeance should fall on him, That, by his giving way to more than murder, (For my dear father's death was parricide) Makes it his own.

Brun. I charge you, hear her not!
Memb. Hell cannot stop just prayers from en-
t'ring Heav'n:

I must and will be heard! Sir, but remember
That he that by her plot fell, was your brother;
And the place where, your palace, against all
Th' inviolable rights of hospitality;
Your word, a king's word, given for his safety;
His innocence, his protection; and the gods
Bound to revenge the impious breach of such
So great and sacred bonds! and can you wonder
That (in not punishing such a horrid murder
You did it) that Heav'ns favour is gone from you?
Which never will return, until his blood
Be wash'd away in hers.

Brun. Drag hence the wretch!

Thi. Forbear. With what variety

Of torments do I meet! Oh, thou hast open'd
A book, in which, writ down in bloody letters,
My conscience finds that I am worthy of
More than I undergo; but I'll begin,
For my Ordella's sake, and for thine own,

To make less Heav'n's great anger: Thou hast lost

A father; I to thee am so: The hope
Of a good husband; in me have one! Nor

Brun. That it might

[Aside.

Have ever grown inseparably upon thee!-
What will you do? Is such a thing as this

Worthy the lov'd Ordella's place? the daughter
Of a poor gardener?

Memb. Your son!
Thi. The power

To take away that lowness is in me.

Brun. Stay yet; for rather than that thou shalt add

Incest unto thy other sins, I will,
With hazard of my own life, utter all:
Theodoret was thy brother]

Thi. You denied it,

Upon your oath; nor will I now believe you: Your Protean turnings cannot change my purpose!

Memb. And for me, be assur'd the means to be Reveng'd on thee, vile hag, admits no thought But what tends to it!

Brun. Is it come to that?

Then have at the last refuge! Art thou grown Insensible in ill, that thou goest on

Without the least compunction? There, take that! To witness that thou hadst a mother, which Foresaw thy cause of grief and sad repentance, That, so soon after bless'd Ordella's death, Without a tear, thou canst embrace another! Forgetful man!

Thi. Mine eyes, when she is nam'd, Cannot forget their tribute, and your gift Is not unuseful now.

Lec. He's past all cure;
That only touch is death.

Thi. This night I'll keep it;
To-morrow I will send it you, and full
Of my affliction.

Brun. Is the poison mortal?
Lec. Above the help of physic.
Brun. To my wish.

[Exit

Now for our own security! You, Protaldye,
Shall this night post towards Austracia,
With letters to Theodoret's bastard son,

In which we will make known what for his rising
We have done to Thierry: No denial,
Nor no excuse in such acts, must be thought of;
Which all dislike, and all again commend
When they are brought unto a happy end.

[Exeunt,

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Omnes. We understand you not, captain.
Vitry. You see this cardecue ;

The last, and the only quintessence of fifty crowns,
Distill'd in the limbeck of your gardage,

Of which happy piece thou shalt be treasurer: Now he that can soonest persuade him to part with it,

Enjoys it, possesses it, and, with it,
Me and my future countenance.
1 Sold. If they want art

To persuade it, I'll keep it myself.
Vitry. So you be not

A partial judge in your own cause, you shall.
Omnes. A match!

2 Sold. I'll begin to you: Brave sir, be proud
To make him happy by your liberality,
Whose tongue vouchsafes now to petition,
Was never heard before less than to command.
I am a soldier by profession, a gentleman
By birth, and an officer by place;
Whose poverty blushes to be the cause,
That so high a virtue should descend
To the pity of your charity.

1 Sold. In any case keep your high stile! It is not charity to shame any man, Much less a virtue of your eminence; Wherefore preserve your worth, and I'll preserve My money.

3 Sold. You persuade? You are shallow! Give way to merit: Ah, by the bread of God, man, Thou hast a bonny countenance and a blith, Promising mickle good to a siking wemb, That has trod a long and a sore ground to meet With friends, that will owe much to thy reverence,

When they shall hear of thy courtesy

To their wandering countrymen.

1 Sold. You that will use

Your friends so hardly to bring them in debt, sir, Will deserve worse of a stranger; wherefore, Pead on, pead on, I say!

4 Sold. It is the Welsh

Must do't, I see.-Comrade, man of urship,
St Tavy be her patron, the gods of the mountains
Keep her cow and her cupboard; may she never
Want the green of the leek, nor the fat of the
onion,

If she part with her bounties to him, that is a great deal

Away from her cousins, and has two big suits in

law

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1 Sold. And that you are like to want, for aught I perceive yet.

Vitry. Stand, deliver!

1 Sold. 'Foot, what mean you? You will not rob the exchequer ? Vitry. Do you prate?

1 Sold. Hold, hold! here, captain! 2 Sold. Why, I could have done this Before you.

3 Sold. And I.

4 Sold. And I.

Vitry. You have done this:

Brave man, be proud to make him happy!'

By the bread of God, man, thou hast a bonny countenance !'

"Comrade, man of urship, St. Tavy be her patron!'
Out upon you, you uncurried colts!
Walking cans, that have no souls in you,
But a little rosin to keep your ribs sweet,
And hold in liquor!

Omnes. Why, what would you have us to do,
captain?

Vitry. Beg, beg, and keep constables waking, Wear out stocks and whipcord,

Maunder for butter-milk, die of the jaundice,
Yet have the cure about you, lice, large lice,
Begot of your own dust, and the heat of the
brick-kilns !

May you starve, and the fear of the gallows
(Which is a gentle consumption to it)
Only preserve you from it I or may you fall
Upon your fear, and be hang'd for selling
Those purses to keep you from famine,
Whose monies my valour empties,
And be cast without other evidence!
Here is my fort, my castle of defence;
Who comes by shall pay me toll;
The first purse is your mittimus, slaves.
2 Sold. The purse? 'foot, we'll share in the
money, captain,

If any come within a furlong of our fingers.
4 Sold. Did you doubt but we could steal
As well as yourself? Did not I speak Welsh?
3 Sold. We are thieves from our cradles, and
will die so.

Vitry. Then you will not beg again?
Omnes. Yes, as you did :

Stand and deliver!

2 Sold. Hark! here comes handsel: 'Tis a trade quickly set up, and as soon cast down. Vitry. Have goodness in your minds, varlets, and to't

Like men: He that has more money than we Cannot be our friend, and I hope there is no law For spoiling the enemy.

3 Sold. You need not

Instruct us further; your example pleads enough. Vitry. Disperse yourselves; and as their company is, fall on!

2 Sold. Come, there are a band of 'em! I'll charge single. [Exeunt Soldiers.

Enter PROTALDYE.

Prot. 'Tis wonderful dark! I have lost my man, And dare not call for him, lest I should have

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