Cam. Mine's troubled in the country with a And some few infirmities else. He looks again; [business 2, Come, let's retire: Certain 'tis some sheThis new lord's employ'd. [Exeunt lords.

Val. I'll not be far off,

Because I doubt the cause.

Fred. Are they all gone?

Sor. All but your faithful servant.

Fred. I would tell thee,

But 'tis a thing thou canst not like,

Sor. 'Pray you speak it:

[Retires.

Is it my head? I have it ready for you, sir: Is't any action in my power? my wit?

I care not of what nature, nor what follows. Fred. I am in love.

Sor. That's the least thing of a thousand, The easiest to achieve.

Fred. But with whom, Sorano?

Sor. With whom you please, you must not
be denied, sir.

Fred. Say, it be with one of thy kinswomen?
Sor. Say, with all;

I shall more love your Grace, I shali more honour you;

[sure!

And 'would I had enough to serve your pleaFred. Why, 'tis thy sister then, the fair Evanthe;

I'll be plain with thee.

Sor. I'll be as plain with you, sir; She brought not her perfections to the world, To lock them in a case, or hang 'em by her; The use is all she breeds 'em for; she's yours, Fred. Dost thou mean seriously? [sir. Sor. I mean my sister; [yours.

And if I had a dozen more, they were all Some aunts! have, they have been handsome [cousins,

women;

My mother's dead indeed; and some few That are now shooting up, we shall see shortly. Fred. No; 'tis Evanthe.

Sor. I've sent my man unto her, Upon some business to come presently 3,

Certain 'tis some she-business,

Large golden promises, and sweet langnage,
You know what they work; she's a complete
Besides, I'll set in.
[courtier:

Fred. She waits upon my queen:
What jealousy and anger may arise,
Incensing her

Sor. You have a good sweet lady, A woman of so cven and still a temper, She knows not anger: Say, she were a fury, I'd thought you had been absolute, the great king, [pleasures, The fountain of all honours, place, and Your will and your commands unbounded also:

Go, get a pair of beads and learn to pray, sir.
Enter Servant.

Serv. My lord, your servant stays.
Sur. Bid him come hither,

And bring the lady with him.
Fred. I will wooe her;

[Exit Serv.

And either lose myself, or win her favour. Sor. She's coming in.

Fred. Thy eyes shoot thro' the door; They are so piercing, that the beams they dart Give new light to the room!

Enter Podramo and Evanthe. Ecan. Whither dost thou go? This is the king's side, and his private lodgings; What business have I here?

Pod. My lord sent for you. [mistaken! Evan. His lodgings are below; you are We left them at the stair-foot.

Pod. Good sweet madam!
Evan. I am no counsellor, nor important
[chambers,

suitor,

drunk,

Nor have no private business thro' these To seek him this way. O' my life, thou'st [hither Or worse than drunk, hir'd to convey me To some base end! Now I look on thee better, Thou hast a bawdy face, and I ablor thee, A beastly bawdy face! I'll go no further.

Sor. Nay, shrink not back; indeed you
shall, good sister.

Why do you blush? the good king will not
He honours you, and loves you. [hurt you;
Evan. Is this the business?
[at,

Sor. Yes, and the best you ever will arrive If you be wise.

3

presently

But Sorano could not say

Either reading comes to the same thing.

Evan. My father was no bawd, sir,
Nor of that worshipful stock, as I remember.
Sor. You are a fool!

Evan. You're that I shame to tell you!
Fred. Gentle Evanthe!

Evan. The gracious Queen, sir,

Is well and merry, Heav'n be thanked for it; And, as I think, she waits you in the garden.

Fred. Let her wait there; I talk not of I talk of thee, sweet flower. [her garden; Evan. Your grace is pleasant,

To mistake a nettle for a rose.
Fred. No rose,

Nor lily, nor no glorious hyacinth,

Are of that sweetness, whiteness, tenderness,
Softness, and satisfying blessedness,
As my Evanthe.

Ecan. Your grace speaks very feelingly:
I would not be a handsome wench in your
For a new gown.
[way, sir,

Fred. Thou art all handsomeness;
Nature will be asham'd to frame another
Now thou art made; th' hast robb'd her of
her cunning:

Each several part about thee is a beauty.
Sor. D'you hear this, sister?

Evan. Yes, unworthy brother!

But all this will not do.

Fred. But love, Evanthe,

Thou shalt have more than words, wealth, My tender wench. [ease, and honours,

[yon.

Evan. Be tender of my credit, And I shall love you, sir, and I shall honour Fred. I love thee to enjoy thee,my Evanthe,

To give thee the content of love.

Evan. Hold, hold, sir,

[way,

You are too ficet: I have some business this Your Grace can ne'er content.

Sor. You stubborn toy!

Evan. Good my lord Bawd, I thank you! Fred. Thou shalt not go. Believe me, sweet Evanthe,

So high I will advance thee for this favour, So rich and potent I will raise thy fortune, And thy friends mighty

Evan. Good your Grace, be patient;

I shall make the worst honourable wench

Their eyes from gazing at my glorious folly, Time that shall come, from wond'ring at my impudence, [curses?

And they that read my wanton life, from
Can you do this? have you this magick in you?
This is not in your power, tho' you be a
prince, sir,

No more than evil is in holy angels,
Nor I, I hope. Get wantonness confirm'd
By act of parliament an honesty,

And so receiv'd by all, I'll hearken to you.
Heav'n guide your Grace!

Fred. Evanthe, stay a little!

I'll no more wantonness; I'll marry thee.
Evan. What shall the Queen do?
Fred. I'll be divorc'd from her.
Ecan. Can you tell why? What has she
done against you?

[son ? Has she contriv'd a treason 'gainst your perAbus'd your bed? Does disobedience urge

Fred. That's all one; 'tis my will. [you?
Evan. "Tis a most wicked oue,

A most absurd one, and will shew a monster!
I'd rather be a whore, and with less sin,
To your present lust, than queen to your in-
justice.

Yours is no love, Faith and Religion fly it,
Nor has no taste of fair affection in it.
Some hellish flame abuses your fair body,
And hellish furies blow it. Look behind you:
Divorce you from a woman of her beauty,
Of her integrity, her piety,

Her love to you, to all that honours you,
Her chaste and virtuous love? are these fit.
causes?
[you?

What will you do to me, when I have cloy'd
You may find time out in eternity,
Deceit and violence in heav'nly justice,
Life in the grave, and death among the bless'd,
Ere stain or brack in her sweet reputation.
Sor. You've fool'd enough; be wise now,
and a woman!

You've shew'd a modesty sufficient,
If not too much, for court.

Evan. You've shew'd an impudence
A more experienc'd bawd would blush and
You'll make my kindred mighty? [shake at!
Fred. 'Prithee hear me !

Evan. I do, sir, and I count it a great offer.
Fred. Any of thine. [uour on them,

Ecan. 'Tis like enough you may clap hoBut how 'twill sit, and how men will adore it, Is still the question. I'll tell you what they'll say, sir,

[too;

What the report will be, and 'twill be true, (And it must needs be comfort to your master!)

Seward.

J. N.

These are the issues of her impudence.'
I'll tell your Grace, so dear I hold the queen,
So dear that bonour that she nurs'd me up in,
I'd first take to me, for my lust, a Moor,
One of your galley-slaves, that cold and
hunger,

Decrepid misery, had made a mock-man,
Than be your queen!

Fred. You're bravely resolute.

Evan. I'd rather be a leper, and be shunn'd, And die by pieces, rot into my grave, Leaving no memory behind to know me, Than be a high whore to eternity!

Fred. You have another gamester, I per-
ceive by ye;

You durst not slight me else.
Sor. I'll find him out;

[him;

Tho' he lie next thy heart hid, I'll discover And, ye proud pcat, l'il make you curse your insolence!

[Heav'n,

Val. Tongue of an angel, and the truth of How am I blest! [Exit. [well)

Sor. Podramo, go in haste To my sister's gentlewoman; (you know her And bid her send her mistress presently The lesser cabinet she keeps her letters in, And such-like toys, and bring it to me instantly. Away!

Pod. I'm gone.

Enter the Queen, with two ladies. Sor. The Queen!

[Erit.

Fred. Let's quit the place; she may grow jealous. [Exeunt Fred. and Sorano.

Queen. So suddenly departed! what's the reason?

Does my approach displease his Grace? are

my eyes

So bateful to him? or my conversation
Infected, that he flies me? Fair Evanthe!
Are you there? then I see his shame.

Evan. 'Tis true, madam,

*T has pleased his goodness to be pleasant with me.

Queen. Tis strange to find thy modesty in this place! [him? Does the king offer fair? does thy face take Ne'er blush, Evanthe, 'tis a very sweet oue. Does he rain gold, and precious promises, Into thy lap? will he advance thy fortunes? Shalt thou be mighty, wench?

Evan. Never mock, madam; 'Tis rather on your part to be lamented, At least reveng'd. I can be mighty, lady, And glorious too, glorious and great as you Queen. He'll marry thee? [are. Evan. Who would not be a queen, madan? Queen. 'Tis true, Evanthe, 'tis a brave ambition,

A golden dream, that may delude a good mind. What shall become of me?

Evan. You must learn to pray; Your age and honour will become a nunnery. Queen. Wilt thou remember me?

[Weeps.

Evan. She weeps!-Sweet lady,
Upon my knees I ask your sacred pardon,
For my rude boldness; and know, my sweet
mistress,

If e'er there were ambition in Evanthe,
It was and is to do you faithful duties.
'Tis true I have been tempted by the king,
And with no few and potcut charms, to wrong

ye,

To violate the chaste joys of your bed;
And, those not taking hold, to usurp your

state:

But she that has been bred up under ye, And daily fed upon your virtuous precepts, Still growing strong by example of your good

ness,

Having no errant motion from obedience, Flies from these vanities, as mere illusions, And, arm'd with honesty, defies all promises! In token of this truth, I lay my life down Under your sacred foot, to do you service. Queen. Rise, my true friend, thou virtuous bud of beauty!

[rish! Thou virgins' honour, sweetly blow and flou And that rude nipping wind that seeks to blast thee,

Or taint thy root, be curs'd to all posterity! To my protection from this hour I take ye; Yes, and the king shall know

Evan. Give his heat way, maglam, And 'twill go out again; he may forget all. [Exeunt

Enter Camillo, Cleanthes, and Menallo. Cam. What have we to do with the times? we can't cure 'em. [surfeits,

Let 'em go on: When they are swoln with They'll burst and stink; then all the world

Men. To be a villain is no such rude matter.

Cam. No, if he be a neat one, and a perfect ; Artmakes all excellent. What is it, gentlemen, In a good cause to kill a dozen coxcombs, That blunt rude fellows call good patriots? Nothing, nor ne'er look'd after.

Men. 'Tis c'en as much,

As easy too, as honest, aud as clear,
To ravish matrons, and deflower coy wenches:
But here they are so willing, 'tis a compliment.

Cle. To pull down churches with preten sion [nour; To build 'em fairer, may be done with hoAnd all this time believe no God.

Cam. I think so;

Tis faith enough if they name him in their angers,