[Exe. Sold. Prot. What tyrants have I met with! they Alone in the dark, yet would not have me cry. If I stay long here without company: Slit my throat. Heaven be prais'd! I hear some noise; It may be new purchase, and then I shall have fellows. Vitry. They are gone past hearing: Now to task, De Vitry! Help, help, as you are men, help! some charitable hand, Relieve a poor distressed miserable wretch! Thieves, wicked thieves, have robb'd me, bound me. Prot. 'Foot, 'Would they had gag'd you too! your noise will betray us, And fetch them again. Vitry. What blessed tongue spake to me? Where, where are you, sir? Prot. A plague of your bawling throat! We are well enough, if you have the grace To be thankful for't. Do but snore to me, And 'tis as much as I desire, to pass Away time with, 'till morning; then talk As loud as you please. Sir, I am bound not to stir, Wherefore, lie still and snore, I say. Vitry. Then you have met with thieves too, I in them, And therefore desire to hear no more of them. Vitry. Now blessing on your wit, sir! what a dull Slave was I, dream'd not of your conveyance! Prot. Reach me thy hands! Vitry. Here, sir, here; I could beat my brains out, That could not think of boots, Boots, sir, wide-topt boots; I shall love them Prot. Sure, say'st thou? ha, ha, ha! Sold. [Within.] Here, captain, here. Enter Soldiers. Vitry. A trick to boot, say you? Here, you dull slaves, purchase, purchase! The soul of the rock, diamonds, sparkling diamonds! Prot: I'm betray'd, lost, past recovery lost! As you are men Vitry. Nay, rook, since you'll be prating, We'll share your carrion with you. Have you Any other conveyance now, sir? 1 Sold. 'Foot, here are letters, Epistles, familiar epistles: We'll see What treasure is in them. They are seal'd sure. Prot. Gentlemen! As you are gentlemen, spare my letters, and take all Willingly, all! I'll give you a release, A general release, and meet you here You have your tricks, and your conveyances, As you love your safeties, beat out my brains; I shall betray you else. Vitry. Treason, Unheard of treason! monstrous, monstrous villainies! Prot. I confess myself a traitor; shew yourselves Good subjects, and hang me up for't. 1 Sold. If it be Baw. Armies of those we call physicians; About a drench, as many here to blood him; As may conceive a prayer! after him, An English doctor, with a bunch of pot-herbs, And talks of oil made of a churchman's charity; 1 Cour. But your good honour Has a prayer in store, if all should fail ? Baw. I could have pray'd, and handsomely, but age, And an ill memory 3 Cour. Has spoil'd your primmer. Baw. Yet if there be a man of faith i'the court, And can pray for a pension Enter THIERRY on a bed, with Doctors and Attendants. 2 Cour. Here's the king, sir; And those that will without pay. pray 1 Doctor. How does your grace now feel your- 1 Doctor. Nothing at all, sir, but your fancy. Thi. Tell me, Can ever these eyes more, shut up in slumbers, 2 Doctor. Oh, sir, be patient! Thi. Am I not patient? have I not endur'd More than a mangy dog, among your doses? Am I not now your patient? Ye can make Unwholsome fools sleep for a guarded footcloth; Whores for a hot sin-offering; yet I must crave, That feed ye, and protect ye, and proclaim ye. Because my power is far above your searching, Are my diseases so? can ye cure none, But those of equal ignorance? Dare ye kill me? i Doctor. We do beseech your grace be more reclaim'd! This talk doth but distemper you. 1 Thi. Well, I will die, In spite of all your potions! One of you sleep; 2 Doctor. Your grace shall feel it. Thi. Oh, never, never I! The eyes of Heaven See but their certain motions, and then sleep; The rages of the ocean have their slumbers, And quiet silver calms; each violence Crowns in his end a peace; but my fix'd fires Shall never, never set!-Who's that? thee, Eater MARTELL, Brunhalt, DE VITRY, and Preach not to me of punishments or fears, Soldiers. So, mother? Brun, Yes, it is so, son; And, were it yet again to do, it should be. Mart. She nods again; swinge her! (For yet I love that reverence, and to death Brun. It was, and by that will Thi. Oh, mother, do not lose your name! for get not Or what I ought to be; but what I am, tunes, Suffer'd by blasted virtue to be scatter'd : Thi. Heav'n forgive you! Mart. She tells you true; for millions of her mischiefs Are now apparent: Protaldye we have taken, The bringing-in of Leonor the bastard, Mess. 'Tis like he will be so; for ere we came, Brun. He did like one of mine then! Thi. Must I still see these miseries? no night To hide me from their horrors? That Protaldye See justice fall upon! Brun. Now I could sleep too. Mart. I'll give you yet more poppy: Bring the lady, Thi. What's that appears so sweetly? There's that face- Mart. Be moderate, lady! Thi. That angel's face- Thi. Martell, I cannot last long! See the soul (I see it perfectly) of my Ordella, The heav'nly figure of her sweetness, there! Mart. Yes, sir; and you shall know her. Sweet spirit, I am ready. She smiles on me! Mart. Go nearer, lady. Ord. I come to make you happy. Thi. Hear you that, sirs? She comes to crown my soul: Away, get sacrifice! Whilst I with holy honours- Mart. She's alive, sir. Thi. In everlasting life; I know it, friend: Oh, happy, happy soul! Ord. Alas, I live, sir; A mortal woman still. Thi. Can spirits weep too? to you, And keep my line alive!-Nay, weep not, lady! Ord. Take me too! Farewell, Honour! 2 Doctor. They're gone for ever. Mart. She is no spirit, sir; pray kiss her. I am your king in sorrows. Lady, Be very gentle to him! Thi. Stay! She's warm; Omnes. We your subjects! Mart. De Vitry, for your services, be near us. Whip out these instruments of this mad mother And, by my life, the same lips! Tell me, bright- From court, and all good people; and, because ness, Are you the same Ordella still? Mart. The same, sir, She was born noble, let that title find her Whom heav'ns and my good angel stay'd from Shall find that virtue lives in good, not glory. ruin. [Exeunt omnes, Enter DION, CLEREMONT, and THRASILINE. Cle. Here's nor lords nor ladies! Dion. Credit me, gentlemen, I wonder at it. They received strict charge from the king to attend here. Besides, it was boldly published, that no officer should forbid any gentlemen, that desire to attend and hear. Cle. Can you guess the cause? Dion. Sir, it is plain, about the Spanish prince, that's come to marry our kingdom's heir, and be our sovereign. Thra. Many, that will seem to know much, say, she looks not on him like a maid in love. Dion. Oh, sir, the multitude (that seldom know any thing but their own opinions) speak that, they would have; but the prince, before his own approach, received so many confident messages from the state, that I think she's resolved to be ruled. Cle. Sir, it is thought, with her he shall enjoy both these kingdoms of Sicily and Calabria. Dion. Sir, it is, without controversy, so meant. But 'twill be a troublesome labour for him to enjoy both these kingdoms with safety, the right heir to one of them living, and living so virtuously; especially, the people admiring the bravery of his mind, and lamenting his injuries. Cle. Who? Philaster? Dion. Yes; whose father, we all know, was by our late king of Calabria unrighteously deposed from his fruitful Sicily. Myself drew some blood in those wars, which I would give my hand to be washed from. Cle. Sir, my ignorance in state policy will not let me know, why, Philaster being heir to one of these kingdoms, the king should suffer him to walk abroad with such free liberty. Dion. Sir, it seems your nature is more constant than to enquire after state news. But the king, of late, made a hazard of both the kingdoms, of Sicily and his own, with offering but to imprison Philaster. At which the city was in arms, not to be charmed down by any state order or |