Whose dark brow would fright pleasure from us!

our court

Be but one stage of revels, and each eye The scene where our content moves!

Theod. There shall want

Nothing to express our shares in your delight, sir. Mart. 'Till now I ne'er repented the estate Of widower.

Thi. Music, why art thou so

Slow-voic'd it stays thy presence, my Ordella;
This chamber is a sphere too narrow for
Thy all-moving virtue. Make way, free way, I say!
Who must alone her sex's want supply,
Had need to have a room both large and high.
Mart. This passion's above utterance!
Theod. Nay, credulity!

[Exe. all but THI. and BRUN.
Brun. Why, son, what mean you? are you a man?
Thi. No, mother, I'm no man:
Were I a man, how could I be thus happy?

Brun. How can a wife be author of this joy then? Thi. That being no man, I'm married to no

to me,

Howsoever you please to forget acquaintance. Vitry. I must confess, I have been subject to Lewd company.

Baw. Thanks for your good remembrance!
You've been a soldier, De Vitry, and borne arms.
Vitry. A couple of unprofitable ones, that
Have only serv'd to get me a stomach to
My dinner.

Baw. Much good may it do you, sir.
Vitry. You should

Have heard me say I'd din'd first: I have built
On an unwholsome ground, rais'd up a house
Before I knew a tenant, march'd to meet weari-

I might have kept the fast with you: But since The way to thrive is never late, what is

The nearest course to profit, think you?

Vitry. It may be

Your worship will say bawdry.

Baw. True sense, bawdry.

My reputation!

Enter THIERRY, THEODORET, BRunhalt,
ORDELLA, MEMBERGE, and MARTELL.
Thi. What villain dares this outrage?
Vitry. Hear me, sir!

But one.

knew

Baw. I'll shew you a new way

Of prostitution: Fall back! further yet!

Further! There's fifty crowns; do but as much to Protaldye, the queen's favourite, they are doubled.

Vitry. But thus much?

Baw. Give him but an affront as

He comes to th' presence, and i' his drawing make way,

Like a true bawd t'his valour, the sum's thy

Vitry. After that rate,

I and my friends would beggar the kingdom.
Sir, you have made me blush to see my want,
Whose cure is such a cheap and easy purchase:
This is male-bawdry, belike?

Enter PROTALDYE, a Lady, and Revellers.
Baw. See!

You shall not be long earning your wages;
Your work's before your eyes.

Vitry. Leave it to my

Handling; I'll fall upon it instantly.

Baw. What opinion will the managing

Of this affair bring to my wisdom! my invention

Tickles with apprehension on't!

Prot. These are

The joys of marriage, lady, whose sights are
Able to dissolve virginity. Speak freely!
Do you not envy the bride's felicity?

Lady. How should I, being partner of't?
Prot. What you

Enjoy is but the banquet's view; the taste
Stands from your palate: If he impart by day
So much of his content, think what night gave?
Vitry. Will you have a relish of wit, lady?
Baw. This is the man.

Lady. If it be not dear, sir.

Vitry. If you affect cheapness,

How can you prize this sullied ware so much?
Mine's fresh, my own, not retail'd.

Prot. You are saucy, sirrah!
Vitry. The fitter to be in

The dish with such dry stockfish as you are.-
How! strike?

Baw. Remember the condition, as

You look for payment!

Vitry. That box was left out

O'th' bargain.

Prot. Help, help, help!

Baw. Plague of

Vitry. Willingly. If you have any more Wages to earn, you see I can take pains.

Theod. There's somewhat for thy labour,
More than was promis'd. Ha, ha, ha!
Baw. Where could I wish myself now? in the
Isle of Dogs,

So I might escape scratching; for I see
By her cats' eyes I shall be claw'd fearfully.
Thi. We'll hear no more on't; music drown
all sadness!
[Soft music.
Command the revellers in. At what a rate I do
Purchase my mother's absence, to give my spleen
Full liberty!

Brun. Speak not a thought's delay; it names thy ruin.

Prot. I had thought my life had borne more value with you.

Brun. Thy loss carries mine with't; let that

secure thee!

The vault is ready, and the door conveys to't Falls just behind his chair; the blow once given, Thou art unseen.

Prot. I cannot feel more than I fear, I'm sure. Brun. Be gone, and let them laugh their own destruction! [PROT. withdraws. Thi. You'll add unto her rage. Theod. 'Sfoot, I shall burst, Unless I vent myself: Ha, ha, ha! Brun. Me, sir?

You never could have found a time t' invite More willingness in my dispose to pleasure. Memb. 'Would you would please to make some other choice!

Rev. 'Tis a disgrace would dwell upon me, lady,

Should you refuse.

Memb. Your reason conquers.-My grandmo

ther's looks

to.

Ta'en by the tail thus? ha, ha, ha !

Thi. Persuasion is a partner in the crime:
I will renounce my claim unto a mother,
If you make offer on't.

Brun. Ere a torch can take flame,
I will produce the author of the fact.
Thi. Withdraw! But, for your lights-
Memb. Oh, my too-true suspicion!

[Exeunt MART. and MEMB. Thi. Speak! where's the engine to this horrid act?

Brun. Here you do behold her; upon whom make good

Your causeless rage! The deed was done
By my incitement, and not yet repented.
Thi. Whither did nature start, when you con-
ceiv'd

A birth so unlike woman? Say, what part
Did not consent to make a son of him,
Reserv'd itself within you to his ruin?

Brun. Ha, ha! a son of mine? do not dissever
Thy father's dust, shaking his quiet urn,
To which thy breath would send so foul an issue.
My son thy brother?

Thi. Was not Theodoret my brother?
Or is thy tongue confederate with thy heart,
To speak and do only things monstrous?
Brun. Hear me, and thou shalt make thine
own belief:

Thy still-with-sorrow-mention'd father liv'd
Three careful years, in hope of wished heirs,
When I conceiv'd, being from his jealous fear
Enjoin'd to quiet home: One fatal day,
Transported with my pleasure to the chase,
I forc'd command, and in pursuit of game
Fell from my horse, lost both my child and hopes.
Despair, which only in his love saw life
Worthy of being, from a gard'ner's arms

Snatch'd this unlucky brat, and call'd it mine;
When the next year repaid my loss with thee,
But in thy wrongs preserv'd my misery;
Which, that I might diminish, tho' not end,
My sighs and wet eyes, from thy father's will,
Bequeath this largest part of his dominions
Of France, unto thee, and only left Austracia
Unto that changeling; whose life affords
Too much of ill 'gainst me to prove my words,
And call him stranger.

Thi. Come, do not weep! I must, nay do be-
lieve you;

And, in my father's satisfaction, count it
Merit, not wrong, or loss.

Brun. You do but flatter;

There's anger yet flames in your eyes.

Thi. See, I will quench it, and confess that you Have suffer'd double travail for me.

Brun. You will not fire the house then? Thi. Rather reward the author who gave cause Of knowing such a secret; my oath and duty Shall be assurance on't.

Brun. Protaldye, rise,

Good faithful servant! Heaven knows How hardly he was drawn to this attempt.

Enter PROTALDYE.

Thi. Protaldye? He had a gard'ner's fate, I'll

swear.

Fell by thy hand?

Sir, we do owe unto you for this service.
Brun. Why look'st thou so dejected?
Enter MARTELL.

Prot. I want a little
Shift, lady; nothing else.

Mart. The fires are ready; Please it your grace withdraw, whilst we perform Your pleasure.

Thi. Reserve them for the body: Since He had the fate to live and die a prince, He shall not lose the title in his funeral. [Exit. Mart. His fate to live a prince! Thou old Impiety,

Made up by lust and mischief! Take up the body. [Exeunt with the body of THEODORET.

Enter LECURE and a Servant.

Lec. Dost think Leforte's sure enough?
Serv. As bonds

Can make him: I have turn'd his eyes to th' East,
And left him gaping after the morning-star.
His head is a mere astrolobe; his eyes
Stand for the poles, the gag in his mouth being
The coachman, his five teeth have the nearest
resemblance

And lying will bear the better place for't.
Lec. I

Have profitabler use in hand: Haste to
The queen, and tell her how you left me chang'd!
[Exit Servant.
Who would not serve this virtuous active queen?
She that loves mischief 'bove the man that does it,
And him above her pleasure; yet knows no
Heaven else.

Enter THIERRY.

Thi. How well this loneness suits the art I seek, Discovering secret and succeeding fate, Knowledge that puts all lower happiness on, With a remiss and careless hand!Fair peace unto your meditations, father!

Lec. The same to you you bring, sir!
Thi. Drawn by your much-fam'd skill, I come
to know

Whether the man who owes this character
Shall e'er have issue.

Lec. A resolution falling with most ease Of doubt any you could have nam'd! He is a prince

Whose fortune you enquire.

Thi. He's nobly born.

Lec. He had a dukedom lately fall'n unto him, By one, call'd brother, who has left a daughter. Thi. The question is of heirs, not lands. Lec. Heirs? yes;

He shall have heirs.

Thi. Begotten of his body?

Why look'st thou pale?

Thou canst not suffer in his want.

Lec. Nor thou;

I neither can nor will give further knowledge

To thee.

Thi. Thou must! I am the man myself,

SCENE I.

Enter THIERRY and MARTELL.

Mart. Your grace is early stirring.
Thi. How can he sleep,

Whose happiness is laid up in an hour,

Thy sovereign; who must owe unto thy wisdom In the concealing of my barren shame.

Lec. Your grace doth wrong your stars: If this be yours,

You may have children.
Thi. Speak it again!

Lec. You may have fruitful issue.
Thi. By whom? when? how?

Lec. It was the fatal means first struck my blood With the cold hand of wonder, when I read it Printed upon your birth.

Thi. Can there be any way unsmooth, has end So fair and good?

Lec. We that behold the sad aspects of Heav'n,
Leading sense-blinded men, feel grief enough
To know, though not to speak their miseries.
Thi. Sorrow must lose a name, where mine
finds life!

If not in thee, at least ease pain with speed,
Which must know no cure else.

He knows comes stealing toward him? Oh,

Consume in slumbers? or his arms rust in ease, That hears the charge, and sees the honour'd purchase

Ready to gild his valour? Mine is more,
A power above these passions; this day France
(France, that in want of issue withers with us,
And like an aged river runs his head
Into forgotten ways) again I ransom,

The son of France, whose manly powers like

prisoners

Have been tied up, and fetter'd, by one death
Gives life to thousand ages; this day beauty,
The envy of the world, the pleasure, glory,
Content above the world, desire beyond it,
Are made mine own, and useful!

Mart. Happy woman
That dies to do these things!

Thi. But ten times happier

That lives to do the greater! Oh, Martell,
The gods have heard me now; and those that
scorn'd me,

Mothers of many children, and bless'd fathers,
That see their issues like the stars unnumber'd,
Their comforts more than them, shall in my praises
Now teach their infants songs; and tell their ages
From such a son of mine, or such a queen
That chaste Ordella brings me. Blessed marriage,
The chain that links two holy loves together!

That comes so near the sacrament itself,

The priests doubt whether purer!

Mart. Sir, you're lost!

Thi. I prithee let me be so!

Mart. The day wears;

And those that have been offering early prayers,

Are now retiring homeward.

Thi. Stand, and mark then!

Mart. Is it the first must suffer?

Thi. The first woman.

Mart. What hand shall do it, sir?

Thi. This hand, Martell;

For who less dare presume to give the gods
An incense of this offering?

Mart. 'Would I were she !

For such a way to die, and such a blessing,
Can never crown my parting. [Two men pass over.
Thi. What are those?

Mart. Men, men, sir, men.

Thi. The plagues of men light on 'em! They cross my hopes like hares. Who's that? [A priest passes over.

Mart. A priest, sir.

Thi. 'Would he were gelt!

Mart. May not these rascals serve, sir,

Well hang'd and quarter'd?

Thi. No.

Mart. Here comes a woman.

Enter ORDELLA, veiled.

Thi. Stand, and behold her then!

Mart. I think, a fair one.

Thi. Move not, whilst I prepare her : May her

peace,

(Like his whose innocence the gods are pleas'd with,

And, offering at their altars, gives his soul
Far purer than those fires) pull Heav'n upon her!
You holy powers, no human spot dwell in her!
No love of any thing, but you and goodness,
Tie her to earth! Fear be a stranger to her;
And all weak blood's affections, but thy hope,
Let her bequeath to women! Hear me, Heav'n!
Give her a spirit masculine, and noble,
Fit for yourselves to ask, and me to offer!
Oh, let her meet my blow, dote on her death!
And as a wanton vine bows to the pruner,
That, by his cutting off more may encrease,
So let her fall to raise me fruit !-Hail, woman;
The happiest and the best, (if thy dull will
Do not abuse thy fortune) France e'er found yet!
Ord. She's more than dull, sir, less and worse
than woman,

That may inherit such an infinite

Desire this place?

Ord. 'Tis of all sleeps the sweetest:
Children begin it to us, strong men seek it,
And kings from height of all their painted glories
Fall, like spent exhalations, to this centre:
And those are fools that fear it, or imagine
A few unhandsome pleasures, or life's profits,
Can recompence this place; and mad that stay it,
'Till age blow out their lights, or rotten humours
Bring them dispers'd to th' earth.

Thi. Then you can suffer?
Ord. As willingly as say it.
Thi. Martell, a wonder!

And brings a will to rob her.

Thi. Tell me this then;

Was there e'er woman yet, or may be found,

That for fair fame, unspotted memory,

For Virtue's sake, and only for itself-sake,
Has, or dare make a story?

Ord. Many dead, sir;

Living, I think, as many.
Thi. Say, the kingdom

May from a woman's will receive a blessing,

Are you a wife?

Ord. I am, sir.

Thi. And have children ?--

She sighs, and weeps!

Ord. Oh, none, sir.

Thi. Dare you venture,

For a poor barren praise you ne'er shall hear, To part with these sweet hopes?

Ord. With all but heav'n,

And yet die full of children: He that reads me