love to see these Actions they will put Spirit into me Is the Princesse ready Iff. She will be presently You stand on thorns now Fat Shall I see 't too Iff. Yes yes my pretty Lady If you 'l sit patient there and weep no more Fat Indeed I will not but I could not hold Lâ—st day they were so cruell could you IFFIDA To see hard-hearted PROGNE stab her Son And all the while the boy cling to her breast And for each wound she gave return a kisse Sof Go y' are fainthearted If. Nay Sir she 's good natur'd Fat This too is some sad story tell me IFFIDA Why do's this woman look so angry here Sof What ailes that old man so to weep I can't Indure to see a man weep it showes cowardly Iff. That fierce Lady MEDEA resolv'd to fly With her new servant JASON from her Father To hinder his pursuit she tore in pieces Her brother ABSYRTUS and bestrewd i th' way His limbs which that old man their father finding He stopt his vaine pursuit oâ—'s cruell Daughter To gather up by peace meal his torn son And seems to bath each piece with teares as if He thought them Cement strong enough to set The tatter'd joynts and flesh again together Fat Was she a sister O I could not do So by you SOFFIE for all the world I care not now for seeing it presented I hate all cruelty so perfectly Yet could I bear a part with that old man And weep as fast as he so infectious Is a just sorrow chiefly in old persons NYMPHADORA SOFFIE FATYMA IFFIDA PAGE WHat ailes my FATYMA to drown her blossomes Of beauty thus in tears Child art not well Fat Yes Madam but this piece is limnd so lively As it doth strain tears from me to embalm Poor torn ABSYRTUS with Nym. Pretty compassion I like this tendernesse in thee but we think This a feign'd story O may reall griefs Ne'r touch thy breast poor thing wilt see it acted Fat It will I fear make me too melancholy Nym. Do as thou wilt my Heart Fat This piece shall be My mâ—lancholly study and sad Tutor When I have either cause or will to weep I le take up this and sit and think I see The tender boy stretcht out his hands unto me For help and sigh because I cannot rescue'him Then think again the old man calls out to me To help him gather up his sons limbs and weep Because I cannot Iff. Pretty innocence Sâ—f Pray Madam let me wait upon your Highnesse To th' Tragedy Nym. Thou shalt sweet-heart Iff. What now Pag. If 't please your grace the Lady FLORADELLA Is lighted at the gate and means a visite Nym. She 's welcome Sof Pish pish now her idle chat Will keep us beyond time Nym. Soft my young Gallant NYMPHADORA FLORADELLA SOFFIE FATYMA IFFIDA HAil my good Lady Flo. Mighty Princesse hail Nym. Please you to sit Flo. How does my little Lady Fat I thank you Madam Flo. And you my Lord Sof Madam At your service Flo. Troth an early courtier How happy are you Madam in these copies Of your fair selfe and your renowned Lord By which you 've fild times sharp teeth and secur'd Your names your formes and natures from the wast Of death and eating age nor is it fit So eminent a beauty and cleer vertue Should for lesse then eternity grace the world Nym. Why Madam give you me the trouble to Speak your words over for these heights of courtship Are but like sounds made in a hollow room In expectation of the Eccho's answer FLo. No Madam by your beauty and that is The greatest Power that I can swear by I Oft lose my self in pleasing Contemplation Of you as Natures and as Fortunes darling By whose best gifts yet can you never be So highly grac'd as you do grace their gifts And them too by your bare receiving them What had the Gods in all their Treasury Oâ— greater worth or lustre then the Prince Your excellent Lord A Prince that striketh dumb Envy and slander and gives Fortune eyes And who could they find worthy to bestow This great result of all their sweat upon But you who yet deserve him every inch Nym. In him indeed I am compleatly happy But he is so far above all deserving As I can plead no merit yet the Gods Themselves have sometimes deign'd a mortall love Flo. In which of all the Gods fortunate Princesse Could you have been so happy as in him With better grace thou Phoebus dost not hold Thy gorgeous rein nor from thy glistring Throne Scatter more beauty or more Majesty A Majesty indeed too great to know Any Superior And now that the King Is bow'd down with the burden of old age The heavy weight of the unweildy Empire Grow but a trouble to his aged shoulders His Crownes are to his head a load no more An ornament It 's fitter his white Age Should now indulge his genius and release His thoughts from all the ruffle of the world And give him time to contemplate the place He tends to every day So should the Prince Make his few daies brighâ—er and easier to him By taking on himself now fit for labour That load of care we call the Soveraignty Nym. Pray Madam give such thoughts no longer breath Thoughts that the loyall Prince and I detest 'T is the base viper gets a life by forcing A violent passage through his Parents bowells 19 My Country Phoenix when he duly mounts His Fathers spicie Throne brings on his wings His honour'd ashes and his funerall odours To shew he climb'd not till his death his seat Flo. Your Highnesse rather should assist his rising By gaining more to 's party which is done With but a gracious look or smile from you ' So prevalent an Oratour is beauty Nym. No by his life and all the love I bear him I 'd rather follow him fairly to his Tombe Perfum'd with that unblemish'd stock of honour He now stands in then that so fouly broke See him untimely thrust into the Throne And justifie my self a loyaller wife In loving more his honour then his life Flo. Unconquerable Vertue if the Gods in secreâ— Give me a Plague 't will be for th' injury I do this noble pattern of all goodnesse Well Madam you may feed upon that air But there are those wish the design on foot And promise to themselves a fair successe So great 's the love they have for the brave Prince An expâ—ctation of a braver King ' For 't is Authority declares the man Nym. I 'l thrive their trai'trous plots Iff. My Lord speak to her Nym. But in his face I read my SOFFIE think 's This conference might be spar'd as well as I For he was wooing me to carry him To see MEDEA play'd at Madam OMAY'S And I am loth to disappoint his hopes Flo. I 'le be no cause of that I 'le wait you thither Nym. You 'l honour me Flo. I 'le go before you one day
the Scorpions of Cushan sting thee Nym. Ah! cruell Father Mâ—â— First TISIPHONE Lead me to TANTALVS I 'd faine talk with him Iff. Why TANTALVS Mâ—r. 'Cause he kill'd his Son too I 'd see if's punishment be great enough Then I 'l Petition PLVTO my hard Father May have the same Nym. O that the Comparison Held whole in thee He murdered his PELOPS To entertaine the Gods but ABBAS thee To feast the furies of his frantick mind To PELOPS too the yellow Goddesse gave A whiter shoulder for his own she tasted And with new better life requited him O that some Deity would thine eyes restore Or close up mine Mâ—r. Hah that 's PROSERPINA She 's in love with me and condoles me too But I 'l not wrong my NYMPHADORA though PROSERPINA where's 7 my Uncle and 7 my Grandsire Two Persian Princes murdered by their Son And brother I 'd faine speak with them and sit Comparing fortunes with them Nym. O they are Bathing themselves in blisse in their sweet Grove Mâ—r. And shall I be there too CERES bright daughter Let me sweet Empresse Nym. Yes if you will rest Your head here in my lap and there lie still Mâ—r. But will not PLVTO then be jealous of me Nym. No. Mir. Come then 8 Now tell me more of Paradise Nym. There'midst the fragrant flowre-enammell'd fields Do golden Pallaces their shining heads Erect with richest Arras each one floor'd Christalline Rivers flow to moat them round For state not strength and with their wanton murmurs Lull every sence and make soft sleep yet softer Their banks are fring'd with Trees of Gold that feast With goodly forms the eye with fruits the tast Fruits that pluck't ne'r so oft straight spring againe So the rich boughs still with like mettall shine Under whose fragrant shades they spend their course Of happy time with amorous Virgins who Regard alone their own particular loves Not such as tyred out in the world a life But there created for it with best form 9 Cows eyes and beauteous as the Hyacinth Still their Virginities return and still Their beauties flourish as their Paradise For ever young yet ripe and fresh full blown Yet alwaies free from naturall pollutions Still as in their third lustre men ith'fixt Their Boyes of divine feature minister To them and proffer hourly to their choices The most delicious Viands Drinks and Voyces Mir. But when but when dear Queene of darknesse shall I Inherit all this bliss Nym. When thou art fit for 't Mir. And how shall I make my selfe fit Nym. By sleep Sleep will much purge thee from thy earthy humours Mir. Sweet PROSERPINE there is in Persia The fairest Lady that ere blest the Earth Sweet NYMPHADORA thou must needs have heard Of her many worthy Hero's have Dyed for her love one frown if such a face Can frown of hers have given a hundred Princes Their Pasport hither didst nere heare them sit And sigh her name or see 't carv'd in the rind Of some faire Tree Nym. Yes O that love should last Longer then reason Mir. She PROSERPINA Will be with you ere long the noble heart Has taken such a griefe for her wrong'd MIRZA It can't last long unbroke but when she comes Let not thy PLUTO see her lest he falls In love with her and so turn thee away He will PROSERPINA let him not see her Nym. Well then he sha'nt Mir. You talk of women too That we shall have in Paradise when she comes Let me have her she was mine own above And I 'le not change her for all natures store Nym. Admired constancy sleep and you shall Mâ—r. Boy GANYMED give me a draught of Lethe To make me sleep wilt not I 'le try without it Nym. Alas what noise is that A noise withoâ—t Look IFFIDA Iff. Madam here comes my Lord EMANGOLY And three or four with him Nym. He were welcome If 's comming now could be without disturbance MIRZA NYMPHADORA SOFFIE EMANGOLY METHICULI HYDASPUS ALKAHEM IFFIDA PAGE HAh hah who 's that do's PLUTO come Nym. No no Lie still Ema We'd best retire Nym. No joyn your help With me to calm his fury Ema O that my selfe Had bit my unhappy tongue from th'panting roâ— And spit it in the Tyrants face which falling Had trembling murmur'd curses at hs foot When I gave counsell to my Lord t' obey His cruell message Met. O who ever yet Saw the returning steps oth'credulous beasts That visited the counterfeit sick Lion Hyd. And yet O ABBAS what fierce ravenous Lion Did ever Lybâ—a's fiery womb produce Or what fell Tyger thy Hyrcania Of so prodigious cruelty as thou art Alk. Lions are tame as Lambs and Tygers mild As frisking kids to that outragious monster Ema There is no perilous desart but his breast Where teeth and armed fangs do tear the strong And treacherous toiles t' insnare the innocent Are ever ready set Met. O th'cruelty Of hate disguis'd like love Ema And how O Gods Is vertue dear to you if thus the Serpent Of Treason be permitted to turn Dove To flatter it by unsmelt means to ruine Mir. I knew on earth a voice like that sure 't is My good EMANGOLY's and is he here too Ema Here my deer Lord but O that I had been Under the earth when my unlucky judgment Advis'd you hither Sof O you 've spoil'd all my Lord. Mâ—r. Why are we still ith'upper world I thought I 'de past the ford Cheats cheats He starts up and fantasies Quick then EMANGOLY go muster all Our force and see them paid I 'le march to morrow And never make a halt till I have kickt Bizantâ—um's selfe to dust 10 Let an Iron Cage Be made to carry with us for proud MORAâ— I 'le try yet if his stomach be as stout As BAJAZET'S but line it all with furrs To hinder him from the pleasure of a death Nym. Would he but cool with sleep his high distemper All these wild thoughts would vanish with his frenzy Emâ— Repose Sir till the Army needs your conduct Nym. Yes my dear Lord restore thy selfe again Unto my care and make my lap thy pillow Mâ—r. I will my sweet and ne'r would rise from hence Did not dear honour call as loud as thunder Such is my love to thee yet could I not Love thee so much lov'd I not honour more Nym. IFFIDA call for musick and a song Gentle and soft as Notes of dying Swanns To woo him into slumbers Sof That will charm him Mir. The Turks already made thy Prisoner when I next return my selfe to thy soft breast His head 's a present for thee Nym. Hark! my Lord soft musick How gentle rest courts thee in her best language SONG HE 's great that masters his own soul As he whose nod shakes either Pole Not he that Kings in chains can bring But that subdues himselfe 's a King That 's ever in himselfe at home And ne'r lets his Queen Reason roam On whom all passions waiting stand As hand-maids on
To death it shall I 'le kisse it out of him Mâ—h My better Angell ah how poor am I That there are not more worlds then one that I Might cast their crownes into thy lap for this Flo. Your love my Lord shall set me higher then if I rode with HECATE in her ebon Charriot Or held the reins of JUNO's yoaked Peacocks To hold that heart is above all dominion FLORADELLA CLOE HOw stately a thing it is to be a Queen O that I now could but look into Heaven To see how our great sister IUNO shakes Her Scepter ore the world and learn her carriage We now must speak i th' plurall number CLOE Dost thou not see new Majestie spring in us And all our looks speak Queen Clo. Madam I would Fortune had been as free to you as nature Then had that honour long ago rewarded That beauty which did ever merit it Flo. CLOE bestow thy wishes on the needy Fortune has humbled her selfe to us and Ask'd pardon for so long keeping our right From our possession a fault she 'l now amend And be our servant ever Go provide State Ornaments and regall Robes for us Jewells will cost whole Provinces to purchase And yet receive new lustre from our wearing Hast any sisters friends or kinswomen Prefer them to us thou shalt have the favour T' appoint our maids of honour and a set Of servants for us 'gainst our Coronation Dull and insensible what didst thou meet Thy Mothers Ghost this morning fasting that Thou starest so do not our eyes proclaime it And all our steps say they are towards a Throne The poverty of thy soule Clo. She 's mad and raves aside Flo. Have we not taken care for all events That can betide us Have not we remov'd All that stood stiffe and many in our way Goes not the levy's on flow not friends to us Is not the Castle ours and Shiras too Is not all ours Or shall be when I 've given Th' old Dotard King his pasport in a kisse To th' other worâ—d thither a Dag or draught Shall send the Prince and a Plumb SOFFIE Who then is Emperour wench but MAHOMEâ— His head has laid it and his hand shall act it His ready Army shall crush all gain-sayers Clo. Perhaps you too aside Flo. What mutter you me too Clo. O how her Plumes would fall now should I tell her aside What I ore-heard Flo. What is 't you mumble Gossip Clo. Madam you 'l pardon me at your last meeting But one with my Lord MAHOMET I was curious To listen and ore-heard some doubtful words As if he 'd onely serve his turn of you Flo. Pish pish He knew you listned therefore spoke so If so he spoke to try my confidence Perhaps or mock your curiosity No well he knows he never can requite My love with a lesse dowry then the Empire I have deserv'd it of him and I 'l never Be jealous of his love â—lo What toyes doth fancy aside Suggest to us in favour of our selves Well I had best comply Indeed perhaps His great wit play'd with me but could he see me Flo. Yes my selfe saw you Clo. Then 't was so but yet Me thought the maner spoke him serious But sure the Army do's not mean his rule But to restore the Prince Flo. Tush Soldiers know not Their own intents 't is as the Generall pleases Who has an Army up and a strong Purse May work them easily unto any thing 'T is done 't is done my CLOE 't is high time For us to practice Queen-ship thus do we Indulge our hand our trusty maid of honour Clo. May 't please your Majestie then Cloe kisses her hand must I begin To know my selfe and set a higher price Upon my beauty Flo. 'T is indeed a virtue To prize our selves enough CLOE as we passe Bear up our traine so Not so neer our Grace â—lo High ho my Heart I shall have a sweet place MIRZA NYMPHADORA SOFFIE IFFIDA PAGE O The seven Bandogs are let loose againe Upon me HERCULES HERCULES canst not heare Prethee lend me thy club the Lubber's sore With 's labours still and sleeps and hears me not Nym. Why let you him come out thus Sof Alas Madam He broke through's all and cals us all his Hangmen Mir. See! Lightning flashes from their eyes Sof Hark Madam Mâ—r. Every one of them is a match for CYCLOPS Yet will I charge them all alone O O. Nym. O. Iff. Help help Sof Page hold him from violence Mir. Th' hast hit me right TYPHAEUS He runs his head against a Post and falls The Princess turns away astonished and weeps the rest fall down about him thou hast Centaure Nym. O heavens if there be any powers that pitty The miseries of their Creaturâ—s look down on him The fight 's enough to move a heavenly nature Mir. So MIMAS hold PORPHYRIO strike no more I am TYPHAEUS Prisoner Nym. Lay not hands Upon him keep him but from farther hurt Mir. CHARON oh CHARON Pag. Nay my Lord. Mir. Come CHARON Quick sirrah Sculler row me to Elyzâ—um Nym. Alas the frenzies high talk not much to him Mâ—â— But now ha'nt I a halfe-penny for the waftage No matter though I 'l snatch the slaves Oare from him And if he grumbles knock his brains out with it And CERBERVS his too if the Cur snarls at me So I am pas't without a Sop now which Of all my friends shall I first meet Nym. O Gods Give me more ease or else more punishment For I with this can neither die nor live Mir. Who 's that That 's PROSERPINE bewailing of Her Rape the silly wench would faine be with Her Mother again Nym. O make me either happy Again or wretched till you can no more Mir. 'T is so t is she she 's warm and Takes her hand sofâ— as air Sweet PROSERPINE Sof Madam apply your selfe A little to his passion Mâ—r. Beauteous Queen O'th'under world do'nt men when they come hither Though blind above have here their eyes restor'd Nym. Alas I cannot flatter his wild frenzy Sof Pray Madam seem to be what he conceits you Mâ—r. What art thou GANYMED and if thou bee'st Good yellow-tressed Boy intreat thy Master When next he thunders to bestow a bolt On ABBAS head 't will not be cast away The man deserves it but that plague's too quick Desire him rather send him 5 PHINEVS Harpyes He merits them as much as the Arcadian He've put out his Sons eyes too hear'st small skinker Sof Yes and when next I wait I 'l do the errand Iff. He wants no Furies he has all in 's breast Mir. Hah art thou a Furie good TISIPHONE Get thee to Persia then and take thy sister ERINNYS with thee and torment the Tyrant Iff. Well sir he shall not want for torments Mir. Hark yet Prethee new wire thy whip before thou goest And tie more knots on 't take fresh Snakes too with thee He is my Father I 'd have him want nothing 6 May all