EnterAubrey,andLatorch.
Aub.Latorch, I have waited here to speak with you,And you must hearken; set not forth your legOf haste, nor put your face of business on;An honester affair than this I urge too,You will not easily think on; and 'twill beReward to entertain it; 'tis your fortuneTo have our Masters ear above the restOf us that follow him, but that no man envies;For I have well considered, Truth sometimesMay be convey'd in by the same ConduitsThat Falshood is; These courses that he takesCannot but end in ruine; Empire gotBy blood and violence, must so be held;And how unsafe that is, he first will prove,That toiling still to remove EnemiesMakes himself more; It is not now a Brother,A faithful Councellour of estate or two,That are his danger, they are far dispatch'd;It is a multitude that begin to fear,And think what began there must end in them;For all the fine Oration that was made 'em,And they are not an easie Monster quell'd.Princes may pick their suffering Nobles out;And one by one employ 'em to the block; but when theyonce grow formidable to their Clowns, and Coblers, warethen, guard themselves; if thou durst tell him this,Latorch,the service would not discredit the good name you hold withmen, besides the profit to your Master, and the publick.Lat.I conceive not so, Sir:They are airy fears; and why should I object them unto his fancy?Wound what is yet sound? your counsels colour not,With reason of state, where all that's necessary still is just.The actions of the Prince, while they succeed,Should be made good, and glorified; not question'd.Men do but shew their ill affections, that—Aub.What? speak out.Lat.Do murmur against their Masters.Aub.Is this to me?Lat.It is to whosoever mislikes of the Dukes courses.Aub.I! is't so? at your stateward, Sir?Lat.I'm sworn to hear nothing may prejudice the Prince.Aub.Why do you? or have you, ha?Lat.I cannot tell, mens hearts shew in their words sometimes.Aub.I ever thought theeKnave of the Chamber, art thou the Spye too?Lat.A watchman for the State, and one that's known,Sir, to be rightly affected.Aub.Bawd of the State;No less than of thy masters lusts. I nowSee nothing can redeem thee; dost thou mentionAffection, or a Heart, that ne'r hadst any?Knowst not to love or hate, but by the State,As thy Prince does't before thee? that dost neverWear thy own face, but put'st on his, and gather'stBaits for his Ears: liv'st wholly at his beck,And e're thou dar'st utter a thought's thine own,Must expect his; creep'st forth and wad'st into himAs if thou wert to pass a Ford, there provingYet if thy tongue may step on safely or no;Then bring'st his vertue asleep, and stay'st the wheelBoth of his reason and judgment, that they move not,Whit'st over all his vices; and at lastDost draw a Cloud of words before his eyes,Till he can neither see thee nor himself?Wretch, I dare give him honest counsels, I,And love him while I tell him truth; oldAubreyDares goe the straightest way, which still's the shortest,Walk on the thorns thou scatter'st, Parasite,And tread 'em into nothing: and if thouThen let'st a look fall, of the least dislike,I'll rip thy Crown up with my Sword at height,And pluck thy skin over thy face, in sightOf him thou flatter'st; unto thee I speak it,Slave, against whom all Laws should now conspire,And every Creature that hath sense, be arm'd,As 'gainst the common Enemy of Mankind;That sleep'st within thy Masters Ear, and whisper'st'Tis better for him to be fear'd than lov'd;Bid'st him trust no mans friendship, spare no bloodThat may secure him: 'tis no crueltyThat hath a specious end; for SoveraigntyBreak all the Laws of kind; if it succeed,An honest, noble, and praise-worthy deed;While he that takes thy poysons in, shall feelTheir virulent workings in a point of time,When no Repentance can bring aid, but allHis spirits shall melt, with what his Conscience burn'd,And dying in flatterers arms, shall fall unmourn'd.There's matter for you now.Lat.My Lord, this makes not for loving of my Master.Aub.Loving? no;They hate ill Princes most that make them so.
Aub.Latorch, I have waited here to speak with you,And you must hearken; set not forth your legOf haste, nor put your face of business on;An honester affair than this I urge too,You will not easily think on; and 'twill beReward to entertain it; 'tis your fortuneTo have our Masters ear above the restOf us that follow him, but that no man envies;For I have well considered, Truth sometimesMay be convey'd in by the same ConduitsThat Falshood is; These courses that he takesCannot but end in ruine; Empire gotBy blood and violence, must so be held;And how unsafe that is, he first will prove,That toiling still to remove EnemiesMakes himself more; It is not now a Brother,A faithful Councellour of estate or two,That are his danger, they are far dispatch'd;It is a multitude that begin to fear,And think what began there must end in them;For all the fine Oration that was made 'em,And they are not an easie Monster quell'd.Princes may pick their suffering Nobles out;And one by one employ 'em to the block; but when theyonce grow formidable to their Clowns, and Coblers, warethen, guard themselves; if thou durst tell him this,Latorch,the service would not discredit the good name you hold withmen, besides the profit to your Master, and the publick.
Lat.I conceive not so, Sir:They are airy fears; and why should I object them unto his fancy?Wound what is yet sound? your counsels colour not,With reason of state, where all that's necessary still is just.The actions of the Prince, while they succeed,Should be made good, and glorified; not question'd.Men do but shew their ill affections, that—
Aub.What? speak out.
Lat.Do murmur against their Masters.
Aub.Is this to me?
Lat.It is to whosoever mislikes of the Dukes courses.
Aub.I! is't so? at your stateward, Sir?
Lat.I'm sworn to hear nothing may prejudice the Prince.
Aub.Why do you? or have you, ha?
Lat.I cannot tell, mens hearts shew in their words sometimes.
Aub.I ever thought theeKnave of the Chamber, art thou the Spye too?
Lat.A watchman for the State, and one that's known,Sir, to be rightly affected.
Aub.Bawd of the State;No less than of thy masters lusts. I nowSee nothing can redeem thee; dost thou mentionAffection, or a Heart, that ne'r hadst any?Knowst not to love or hate, but by the State,As thy Prince does't before thee? that dost neverWear thy own face, but put'st on his, and gather'stBaits for his Ears: liv'st wholly at his beck,And e're thou dar'st utter a thought's thine own,Must expect his; creep'st forth and wad'st into himAs if thou wert to pass a Ford, there provingYet if thy tongue may step on safely or no;Then bring'st his vertue asleep, and stay'st the wheelBoth of his reason and judgment, that they move not,Whit'st over all his vices; and at lastDost draw a Cloud of words before his eyes,Till he can neither see thee nor himself?Wretch, I dare give him honest counsels, I,And love him while I tell him truth; oldAubreyDares goe the straightest way, which still's the shortest,Walk on the thorns thou scatter'st, Parasite,And tread 'em into nothing: and if thouThen let'st a look fall, of the least dislike,I'll rip thy Crown up with my Sword at height,And pluck thy skin over thy face, in sightOf him thou flatter'st; unto thee I speak it,Slave, against whom all Laws should now conspire,And every Creature that hath sense, be arm'd,As 'gainst the common Enemy of Mankind;That sleep'st within thy Masters Ear, and whisper'st'Tis better for him to be fear'd than lov'd;Bid'st him trust no mans friendship, spare no bloodThat may secure him: 'tis no crueltyThat hath a specious end; for SoveraigntyBreak all the Laws of kind; if it succeed,An honest, noble, and praise-worthy deed;While he that takes thy poysons in, shall feelTheir virulent workings in a point of time,When no Repentance can bring aid, but allHis spirits shall melt, with what his Conscience burn'd,And dying in flatterers arms, shall fall unmourn'd.There's matter for you now.
Lat.My Lord, this makes not for loving of my Master.
Aub.Loving? no;They hate ill Princes most that make them so.
EnterRollo, Hamond, Allan,Guard.
Rol.I'll hear no more.Ham.Alas, 'tis for my Brother: I beseech your Highness.Rol.How, a Brother? had not I one my self? did titleMove me when it was fit that he should dye? away.All.Brother, lose no word more, leave my good CauseT' upbraid the Tyrant, I'm glad I'm falnNow in those times that will'd some great exampleT' assure men we can dye for honesty.Rol.Sir, you are brave, 'pray that you hold your neckAs bravely forth anon unto your Headsman.All.Would he would strike as bravely, and thou by,Rollo, 'twould make thee quake to see me dye.Aub.What's his offence?Ham.For givingGisbertburial, who was sometimes his Master.All.Yes, LordAubrey,My gratitude and humanity are my crimes.Rol.Why bear you him not hence?Aub.My Lord, (stay Souldiers)I do beseech your Highness, do not loseSuch men for such slight causes. This is oneHas still been faithful to you, a try'd soulIn all your fathers Battles; I have seen himBestride a friend against a score of Foes,And look, he looks as he would kill his hundredFor you, Sir, were you in some danger.All.Till he kill'd his Brother, his Chancellour, then hisMaster, to which he can add nought to equalNero,But killing of his Mother.Aub.Peace, brave Fool,Thou valiant Ass: here is his Brother too, Sir,A Captain of your Guard, hath serv'd you long,With the most noble witness of his truthMark'd in his face, and every part about him,That turns not from an enemy. But view him,Oh do not grieve him, Sir, if you do meanThat he shall hold his place: it is not safeTo tempt such spirits, and let them wear their Swords,You'll make your Guards your terrours by these Acts,And throw more hearts off from you than you hold;And I must tell you, Sir, (with my old freedom,And my old faith to boot) you have not liv'd soBut that your state will need such men, such handsOf which here's one, shall in an hour of tryal,Do you more certain service with a stroke,Than the whole bundle of your flatterersWith all the unsavory unction of their tongues.Rol.Peace, talker.Aub.One that loves you yet, my Lord,And would not see you pull on your own ruines.Mercy becomes a Prince, and guards him best,Awe and affrights are never tyes of Love;And when men begin to fear the Prince, they hate him.Rol.Am I the Prince, or you?Aub.My Lord, I hope I have not utter'd ought shouldurge that question.Rol.Then practise your obedience, see him dead.Aub.My Lord?Rol.I'll hear no more.Aub.I'm sorry then; there's no small despair, Sir, of theirSafety, whose ears are blockt up against truth; come, captain.Ham.I thank you, Sir.Aub.For what? for seeing thy brother die a man, and honest?Live thou so, Captain, I will assure thee,Although I die for't too; come—[Ex. all butRol. & Lat.Rol.NowLatorch, what do you think?Lat.ThatAubrey's speech and manners sound somewhat of the boldest.Rol.'Tis his custome.Lat.It may be so, and yet be worth a fear.Rol.If we thought so, it should be worth his life, and quickly too.Lat.I dare not, Sir, be authourOf what I would be, 'tis so dangerous:But with your Highness favour and your licence.Rol.He talks, 'tis true; he is licens'd: leave him,We now are Duke alone,Latorch, secur'd;Nothing left standing to obscure our prospect,We look right forth, beside, and round about us,And see it ours with pleasure: only oneWish'd joy there wants to make us to possess it,And that isEdith,Edith, she that got meIn blood and tears, in such an opposite minute,As had I not at once felt all the flamesAnd shafts of Love shot in me (his whole armory)I should have thought him as far off as Death.Lat.My Lord, expect a while, your happinessIs nearer than you think it, yet her griefsAre green and fresh, your vigilantLatorchHath not been idle; I have leave alreadyTo visit her, and send to her.Rol.My life.Lat.And if I find not out as speedy ways,And proper instruments to work and bring herTo your fruition; that she be not watch'dTame to your Highness wish, say you have no servantIs capable of such a trust about you,Or worthy to be Secretary of your pleasure.Rol.Oh myLatorch, what shall I render theeFor all thy travels, care, and love?Lat.Sir, one suit, which I will ever importune, till you grant me.Rol.About your Mathematicians?Lat.Yes, to haveThe Scheme of your Nativity judg'd by them,I have't already erected; O my Lord,You do not know the labour of my fears,My doubts for you are such as cannot hopeAny security, but from the Stars;Who, being rightly ask'd, can tell man moreThan all power else, there being no power beyond them.Rol.All thy petitions still are care of us,Ask for thy self.Lat.What more can concern me, than this?Rol.Well, rise true honest man, and go then,We'l study our selves a means how to reward thee.Lat.Your grace is now inspir'd; now, now your highnessBegins to live, from this hour count your joyes:But, Sir, I must have warrants, with blanks figur'd,To put in names, such as I like.Rol.You shall.Lat.They dare not else offer, Sir, at your figure?Oh I shall bring you wonders; there's a FrierRusee, an admirable man, anotherA Gentleman, and thenLafiske,The mirrour of his time; 'twas he that set it.But there's oneNorbret, (him I never saw)Has made a mirrour, a meer Looking-glass,In shew you'ld think't no other; the form oval,As I am given to understand by letter,Which renders you such shapes, and those so differing,And some that will be question'd and give answers;Then has he set it in a frame, that wroughtUnto the revolutions of the Stars,And so compact by due proportionsUnto their harmony, doth move aloneA true automaton; thusDædalusStatues,OrVulcansTools—Rol.Dost thou believe this?Lat.Sir? why, what should stay my faith, or turn my sense?He has been about it above twenty years,Three sevens, the powerfull, and the perfect numbers;And Art and time, Sir, can produce such things.What do I read there ofHiarbasbanquet?The great Gymnosophist, that had his ButlersAnd carvers of pure gold waiting at table?The images ofMercury, too, that spoke?The wooden door that flew? a snake of brassThat hist? and birds of Silver that did sing?All those new done by the Mathematicks,Without which there's no science, nor no truth.Rol.You are in your sphear,Latorch: and ratherThan I'le contend w'ye for it, I'le believe it,Y'have won upon me that I wish to seeMy fate before me now, what e're it be.Lat.And I'le endeavour, you shall know with speed,For which I should have one of trust go with me,If you please,Hamond, that I may by himSend you my first dispatches; after IShall bring you more, and as they come still more.Rol.Take your way,Choose your own means, and be it prosperous to us.
Rol.I'll hear no more.
Ham.Alas, 'tis for my Brother: I beseech your Highness.
Rol.How, a Brother? had not I one my self? did titleMove me when it was fit that he should dye? away.
All.Brother, lose no word more, leave my good CauseT' upbraid the Tyrant, I'm glad I'm falnNow in those times that will'd some great exampleT' assure men we can dye for honesty.
Rol.Sir, you are brave, 'pray that you hold your neckAs bravely forth anon unto your Headsman.
All.Would he would strike as bravely, and thou by,Rollo, 'twould make thee quake to see me dye.
Aub.What's his offence?
Ham.For givingGisbertburial, who was sometimes his Master.
All.Yes, LordAubrey,My gratitude and humanity are my crimes.
Rol.Why bear you him not hence?
Aub.My Lord, (stay Souldiers)I do beseech your Highness, do not loseSuch men for such slight causes. This is oneHas still been faithful to you, a try'd soulIn all your fathers Battles; I have seen himBestride a friend against a score of Foes,And look, he looks as he would kill his hundredFor you, Sir, were you in some danger.
All.Till he kill'd his Brother, his Chancellour, then hisMaster, to which he can add nought to equalNero,But killing of his Mother.
Aub.Peace, brave Fool,Thou valiant Ass: here is his Brother too, Sir,A Captain of your Guard, hath serv'd you long,With the most noble witness of his truthMark'd in his face, and every part about him,That turns not from an enemy. But view him,Oh do not grieve him, Sir, if you do meanThat he shall hold his place: it is not safeTo tempt such spirits, and let them wear their Swords,You'll make your Guards your terrours by these Acts,And throw more hearts off from you than you hold;And I must tell you, Sir, (with my old freedom,And my old faith to boot) you have not liv'd soBut that your state will need such men, such handsOf which here's one, shall in an hour of tryal,Do you more certain service with a stroke,Than the whole bundle of your flatterersWith all the unsavory unction of their tongues.
Rol.Peace, talker.
Aub.One that loves you yet, my Lord,And would not see you pull on your own ruines.Mercy becomes a Prince, and guards him best,Awe and affrights are never tyes of Love;And when men begin to fear the Prince, they hate him.
Rol.Am I the Prince, or you?
Aub.My Lord, I hope I have not utter'd ought shouldurge that question.
Rol.Then practise your obedience, see him dead.
Aub.My Lord?
Rol.I'll hear no more.
Aub.I'm sorry then; there's no small despair, Sir, of theirSafety, whose ears are blockt up against truth; come, captain.
Ham.I thank you, Sir.
Aub.For what? for seeing thy brother die a man, and honest?Live thou so, Captain, I will assure thee,Although I die for't too; come—[Ex. all butRol. & Lat.
Rol.NowLatorch, what do you think?
Lat.ThatAubrey's speech and manners sound somewhat of the boldest.
Rol.'Tis his custome.
Lat.It may be so, and yet be worth a fear.
Rol.If we thought so, it should be worth his life, and quickly too.
Lat.I dare not, Sir, be authourOf what I would be, 'tis so dangerous:But with your Highness favour and your licence.
Rol.He talks, 'tis true; he is licens'd: leave him,We now are Duke alone,Latorch, secur'd;Nothing left standing to obscure our prospect,We look right forth, beside, and round about us,And see it ours with pleasure: only oneWish'd joy there wants to make us to possess it,And that isEdith,Edith, she that got meIn blood and tears, in such an opposite minute,As had I not at once felt all the flamesAnd shafts of Love shot in me (his whole armory)I should have thought him as far off as Death.
Lat.My Lord, expect a while, your happinessIs nearer than you think it, yet her griefsAre green and fresh, your vigilantLatorchHath not been idle; I have leave alreadyTo visit her, and send to her.
Rol.My life.
Lat.And if I find not out as speedy ways,And proper instruments to work and bring herTo your fruition; that she be not watch'dTame to your Highness wish, say you have no servantIs capable of such a trust about you,Or worthy to be Secretary of your pleasure.
Rol.Oh myLatorch, what shall I render theeFor all thy travels, care, and love?
Lat.Sir, one suit, which I will ever importune, till you grant me.
Rol.About your Mathematicians?
Lat.Yes, to haveThe Scheme of your Nativity judg'd by them,I have't already erected; O my Lord,You do not know the labour of my fears,My doubts for you are such as cannot hopeAny security, but from the Stars;Who, being rightly ask'd, can tell man moreThan all power else, there being no power beyond them.
Rol.All thy petitions still are care of us,Ask for thy self.
Lat.What more can concern me, than this?
Rol.Well, rise true honest man, and go then,We'l study our selves a means how to reward thee.
Lat.Your grace is now inspir'd; now, now your highnessBegins to live, from this hour count your joyes:But, Sir, I must have warrants, with blanks figur'd,To put in names, such as I like.
Rol.You shall.
Lat.They dare not else offer, Sir, at your figure?Oh I shall bring you wonders; there's a FrierRusee, an admirable man, anotherA Gentleman, and thenLafiske,The mirrour of his time; 'twas he that set it.But there's oneNorbret, (him I never saw)Has made a mirrour, a meer Looking-glass,In shew you'ld think't no other; the form oval,As I am given to understand by letter,Which renders you such shapes, and those so differing,And some that will be question'd and give answers;Then has he set it in a frame, that wroughtUnto the revolutions of the Stars,And so compact by due proportionsUnto their harmony, doth move aloneA true automaton; thusDædalusStatues,OrVulcansTools—
Rol.Dost thou believe this?
Lat.Sir? why, what should stay my faith, or turn my sense?He has been about it above twenty years,Three sevens, the powerfull, and the perfect numbers;And Art and time, Sir, can produce such things.What do I read there ofHiarbasbanquet?The great Gymnosophist, that had his ButlersAnd carvers of pure gold waiting at table?The images ofMercury, too, that spoke?The wooden door that flew? a snake of brassThat hist? and birds of Silver that did sing?All those new done by the Mathematicks,Without which there's no science, nor no truth.
Rol.You are in your sphear,Latorch: and ratherThan I'le contend w'ye for it, I'le believe it,Y'have won upon me that I wish to seeMy fate before me now, what e're it be.
Lat.And I'le endeavour, you shall know with speed,For which I should have one of trust go with me,If you please,Hamond, that I may by himSend you my first dispatches; after IShall bring you more, and as they come still more.
Rol.Take your way,Choose your own means, and be it prosperous to us.
[Exeunt.
EnterRusee,deBube,laFiske, Norbret, Pippeau.
Rus.Come, bear up Sirs, we shall have better days,My Almanack tells me.Bub.What is that? your rump?Rus.It never itch'd in vain yet, slidela Fiske,Throw off thy sluggish face, I cannot abideTo see thee look like a poor Jade i'th' pound,That saw no meat these three days.Fiske.'Slight, to meIt seems thirteen dayes since I saw any.Rus.How?Fis.I can't remember that I ever sawOr meat or mony, you may talk of bothTo open a mans stomach or his purse,But feed 'em still with air.Bub.Friar, I fearYou do not say your Office well a dayes.Nor.Pox, he feedsWith leachery, and lives upon th' exchangeOf his two Eggs and Puddings with the market women.Rus.And what do you Sir, with the Advocates wife,Whom you perswade, upon your Doctoral bed,To take the Mathematical trance so often?Fis.Come, we are stark naught all, bad's the best of us,Four of the seven deadly spots we are;Besides our Leachery, we are envious,And most, most gluttonous when we have it thus,Most covetous now we want it; then our BoyHe is a fifth spot, sloth and he undoes us.Bub.'Tis true, the child was wont to be industrious,And now and then sent to a Merchants wifeSick of the Husband, or a swearing ButlerThat mist of his Bowls, a crying MaidHad lost a Silver spoon; the Curry combSometimes was wanting; there was something gotten;But now—Pip.What now? Did not I yester-morningBring you in a Cardecu there from the Peasant,Whose ass I had driven aside, and hid, that youMight conjure for him? and then last night,Six Soulz from the Cooks wife, you shar'd among youTo set a figure for the Pestle I stole,It is not at home yet; these things, my Masters,In a hard time, they would be thought on: youTalk of your lands and Castles in the air,Of your twelve houses there: but it is IThat bring you in your rents for 'em, 'tisPippeauThat is your bird-call.Nor.Faith he does well,And cuts through the Elements for us, I must needs sayIn a fine dextrous line.Fis.But not as he didAt first, then he would sail with any windInt' every Creek and Corner.Pip.I was light then,New built and rigg'd when I came to you, Gentlemen,But now with often and far venturing for youHere be leaks sprung, and whole Planks wanting see you;If you'l new sheath me again, yet I am for youTo any bog or sleights, where e're you'l send me,For as I am, where can this ragged BarkPut in for any service; 'less it beO'th' Isle of Rogues, and there turn Pirate for you.Nor.Faith he says reason, Fryer, you must leaveYour neat crisp Claret, and fall to your CyderA while; and youla Fiske, your larded CaponsAnd Turkys for a time, and take a goodClean Tripe in your way;de Bubetoo must content him withwholsom two souz'd petitoes, no more Crown Ordinaries,till we have cloath'd our Infant.Bub.So you'l keepYour own good motions, Doctor, your dear self.Fis.Yes, for we all do know the LatitudeOf your Concupiscence.Rus.Here about your belly.Bub.You'l pick a bottle open or a whimsey,As soon as the best of us.Fis.And dip your wrist-bands,(For Cuffs y'have none) as comely in the sauce[The Bell rings.As any Courtier—hark, the Bell, who is there?Rus.Good luck I do conjure thee; Boy look out.Pip.They are Gallants, courtiers, one of 'em is
Rus.Come, bear up Sirs, we shall have better days,My Almanack tells me.
Bub.What is that? your rump?
Rus.It never itch'd in vain yet, slidela Fiske,Throw off thy sluggish face, I cannot abideTo see thee look like a poor Jade i'th' pound,That saw no meat these three days.
Fiske.'Slight, to meIt seems thirteen dayes since I saw any.
Rus.How?
Fis.I can't remember that I ever sawOr meat or mony, you may talk of bothTo open a mans stomach or his purse,But feed 'em still with air.
Bub.Friar, I fearYou do not say your Office well a dayes.
Nor.Pox, he feedsWith leachery, and lives upon th' exchangeOf his two Eggs and Puddings with the market women.
Rus.And what do you Sir, with the Advocates wife,Whom you perswade, upon your Doctoral bed,To take the Mathematical trance so often?
Fis.Come, we are stark naught all, bad's the best of us,Four of the seven deadly spots we are;Besides our Leachery, we are envious,And most, most gluttonous when we have it thus,Most covetous now we want it; then our BoyHe is a fifth spot, sloth and he undoes us.
Bub.'Tis true, the child was wont to be industrious,And now and then sent to a Merchants wifeSick of the Husband, or a swearing ButlerThat mist of his Bowls, a crying MaidHad lost a Silver spoon; the Curry combSometimes was wanting; there was something gotten;But now—
Pip.What now? Did not I yester-morningBring you in a Cardecu there from the Peasant,Whose ass I had driven aside, and hid, that youMight conjure for him? and then last night,Six Soulz from the Cooks wife, you shar'd among youTo set a figure for the Pestle I stole,It is not at home yet; these things, my Masters,In a hard time, they would be thought on: youTalk of your lands and Castles in the air,Of your twelve houses there: but it is IThat bring you in your rents for 'em, 'tisPippeauThat is your bird-call.
Nor.Faith he does well,And cuts through the Elements for us, I must needs sayIn a fine dextrous line.
Fis.But not as he didAt first, then he would sail with any windInt' every Creek and Corner.
Pip.I was light then,New built and rigg'd when I came to you, Gentlemen,But now with often and far venturing for youHere be leaks sprung, and whole Planks wanting see you;If you'l new sheath me again, yet I am for youTo any bog or sleights, where e're you'l send me,For as I am, where can this ragged BarkPut in for any service; 'less it beO'th' Isle of Rogues, and there turn Pirate for you.
Nor.Faith he says reason, Fryer, you must leaveYour neat crisp Claret, and fall to your CyderA while; and youla Fiske, your larded CaponsAnd Turkys for a time, and take a goodClean Tripe in your way;de Bubetoo must content him withwholsom two souz'd petitoes, no more Crown Ordinaries,till we have cloath'd our Infant.
Bub.So you'l keepYour own good motions, Doctor, your dear self.
Fis.Yes, for we all do know the LatitudeOf your Concupiscence.
Rus.Here about your belly.
Bub.You'l pick a bottle open or a whimsey,As soon as the best of us.Fis.And dip your wrist-bands,(For Cuffs y'have none) as comely in the sauce[The Bell rings.As any Courtier—hark, the Bell, who is there?
Rus.Good luck I do conjure thee; Boy look out.
Pip.They are Gallants, courtiers, one of 'em is
[Exit and enter again.
Of the Dukes bed-chamber.Rus.Latorch, down,On with your gown, there's a new suite arriv'd,[To Norbret.Did I not tell you, Sons of hunger? Crowns,Crowns are coming toward you, wine and wenchesYou shall have once again, and Fidlers:Into your studyes close; each lay his earTo his door, and as you hear me to prepare youSo come, and put me on that visard only.
Of the Dukes bed-chamber.
Rus.Latorch, down,On with your gown, there's a new suite arriv'd,[To Norbret.Did I not tell you, Sons of hunger? Crowns,Crowns are coming toward you, wine and wenchesYou shall have once again, and Fidlers:Into your studyes close; each lay his earTo his door, and as you hear me to prepare youSo come, and put me on that visard only.
EnterLatorch, Hamond.
Lat.You'l not be far hence Captain, when theBusiness is done you shall receive present dispatch.Ham.I'le walk Sir, in the Cloyster.[Exit.Rus.MonsieurLatorch; my Son,The Stars are happy still that guide you hither.Lat.I'me glad to hear their Secretary say so,My learned FatherRusse, where'sla Fiske,Monsieurde Bube, how do they?Rus.At their studyes,They are the Secretaries of the Stars, Sir,Still at their books, they will not be pull'd off,They stick like cupping glasses; if ever menSpoke with the tongue of destiny, 'tis they.Lat.For loves sake let's salute 'em.Rus.Boy, go see,Tell them who's here, say, that their friends do challengeSome portion of their time, this is our minute,Pray 'em they'l spare it: they are the Sun and MoonOf knowledge; pity two such noble lightsShould live obscur'd here in an University,Whose beams were fit to'illumine any courtOf Christendom.
Lat.You'l not be far hence Captain, when theBusiness is done you shall receive present dispatch.
Ham.I'le walk Sir, in the Cloyster.[Exit.
Rus.MonsieurLatorch; my Son,The Stars are happy still that guide you hither.
Lat.I'me glad to hear their Secretary say so,My learned FatherRusse, where'sla Fiske,Monsieurde Bube, how do they?
Rus.At their studyes,They are the Secretaries of the Stars, Sir,Still at their books, they will not be pull'd off,They stick like cupping glasses; if ever menSpoke with the tongue of destiny, 'tis they.
Lat.For loves sake let's salute 'em.
Rus.Boy, go see,Tell them who's here, say, that their friends do challengeSome portion of their time, this is our minute,Pray 'em they'l spare it: they are the Sun and MoonOf knowledge; pity two such noble lightsShould live obscur'd here in an University,Whose beams were fit to'illumine any courtOf Christendom.
Enter laFisk,deBube,andPippeau.
Lat.The Duke will shortly know 'em.Fis.Well, look upon the Astrolabe; you'l find itFour Almucanturies at least.Bub.It is so.Rus.Still of their learned stuff, they care for nothing,But how to know, as negli[g]ent of their bodiesIn dyet, or else, especially in their cloaths,As if they had no change.Pip.They have so littleAs well may free them from the name of shifters.Fis.MonsieurLatorch?Lat.How is it, learned Gentlemen, with both your vertues?Bub.A most happy hour, when we see you, Sir.Lat.When you hear me thenIt will be happier; the Duke greets you bothThus, and though you may touch no mony, Father,Yet you may take it.Rus.'Tis his highness bounty,But yet to me, and these that have put offThe world, superfluous.Fis.We have heard of late of his highness good success.Bub.And gratulate it.Lat.Indeed he hath scap'd a strange Conspiracy,Thanks to his Stars; which Stars he prayes by me,You would again consult, and make a JudgementOn what you lately erected for my love.Rus.Oh, Sir, we dare not.Fis.For our lives.Bub.It is the Princes Scheam.Lat.T'incounter with that fear,Here's to assure you, his Signet, write your names,And be secured all three.Bu[b].We must intreat some time, Sir.Lat.I must then intreat it, be as present as you can.Fis.Have you the Scheam here?Lat.Yes.Rus.I would you had Sir another warrant.Lat.What would that do?Rus.Marry we have a Doctor Sir, that in this businessWould not perform the second part.Lat.Not him that you writ to me of?Rus.The very same.Lat.I should have made it, Sir, my suit to see him,Here is a warrant Father, I conceiv'dThat he had solely applyed himself to Magick.Rus.And to their studies too Sir, in this fieldHe was initiated, but we shall hardlyDraw him from his chair.Lat.Tell him he shall have gold.Fis.Oh, such a syllable would make him to forswearEver to breath in your sight.Lat.How then?Fis.Sir, he if you do please to give him any thing,Must have't convey'd under a paper.Rus.Or left behind some book in his study.Bub.Or in some old wall.Fis.Where his familiars may tell him of it, and that pleases him, Sir.Bub.Or else I'le go and assay him.Lat.Take gold with you.Rus.That will not be amiss; give it the Boy, Sir,He knows his holes, and how to bait his Spirits.Pip.We must lay in several places, Sir.Rus.That's true, that if one come not, the other may hit.Lat.Well, go then, is he so learned, Gentlemen?Fis.The very top of our profession; mouth of the fates,Pray Heaven his Spirits be in a good humor to take,They'l fling the gold about the house else.Bub.I, and beat the Fryer if he go not wellFurnisht with holy-water.Fis.Sir, you must observe him.Bub.Not cross him in a word, for then he's gone.Fis.If he do come, which is a hazard, yet—Mass he's here, this is speed.
Lat.The Duke will shortly know 'em.
Fis.Well, look upon the Astrolabe; you'l find itFour Almucanturies at least.
Bub.It is so.
Rus.Still of their learned stuff, they care for nothing,But how to know, as negli[g]ent of their bodiesIn dyet, or else, especially in their cloaths,As if they had no change.
Pip.They have so littleAs well may free them from the name of shifters.
Fis.MonsieurLatorch?
Lat.How is it, learned Gentlemen, with both your vertues?
Bub.A most happy hour, when we see you, Sir.
Lat.When you hear me thenIt will be happier; the Duke greets you bothThus, and though you may touch no mony, Father,Yet you may take it.
Rus.'Tis his highness bounty,But yet to me, and these that have put offThe world, superfluous.
Fis.We have heard of late of his highness good success.
Bub.And gratulate it.
Lat.Indeed he hath scap'd a strange Conspiracy,Thanks to his Stars; which Stars he prayes by me,You would again consult, and make a JudgementOn what you lately erected for my love.
Rus.Oh, Sir, we dare not.
Fis.For our lives.
Bub.It is the Princes Scheam.
Lat.T'incounter with that fear,Here's to assure you, his Signet, write your names,And be secured all three.
Bu[b].We must intreat some time, Sir.
Lat.I must then intreat it, be as present as you can.
Fis.Have you the Scheam here?
Lat.Yes.
Rus.I would you had Sir another warrant.
Lat.What would that do?
Rus.Marry we have a Doctor Sir, that in this businessWould not perform the second part.
Lat.Not him that you writ to me of?
Rus.The very same.
Lat.I should have made it, Sir, my suit to see him,Here is a warrant Father, I conceiv'dThat he had solely applyed himself to Magick.
Rus.And to their studies too Sir, in this fieldHe was initiated, but we shall hardlyDraw him from his chair.
Lat.Tell him he shall have gold.
Fis.Oh, such a syllable would make him to forswearEver to breath in your sight.
Lat.How then?
Fis.Sir, he if you do please to give him any thing,Must have't convey'd under a paper.
Rus.Or left behind some book in his study.
Bub.Or in some old wall.
Fis.Where his familiars may tell him of it, and that pleases him, Sir.
Bub.Or else I'le go and assay him.
Lat.Take gold with you.
Rus.That will not be amiss; give it the Boy, Sir,He knows his holes, and how to bait his Spirits.
Pip.We must lay in several places, Sir.
Rus.That's true, that if one come not, the other may hit.
Lat.Well, go then, is he so learned, Gentlemen?
Fis.The very top of our profession; mouth of the fates,Pray Heaven his Spirits be in a good humor to take,They'l fling the gold about the house else.
Bub.I, and beat the Fryer if he go not wellFurnisht with holy-water.
Fis.Sir, you must observe him.
Bub.Not cross him in a word, for then he's gone.
Fis.If he do come, which is a hazard, yet—Mass he's here, this is speed.
EnterNorb[re]t, Russ, Pippeau.
Nor.Where is our Scheme,Let's see, dispatch, nay fumbling now, who's this?Rus.Chief Gentleman of the Dukes Chamber, Doctor.Nor.Oh, let him be, good even to him, he's a courtier,I'le spare his complement, tell him: what's here?The geniture Nocturnal, LongitudeAt forty nine and ten minutes? How are the cardins?Fis.Libra in twenty four, forty four minutes,And Capricorn.Nor.I see it, see the Planets,Where, how are they dispos'd? the Sun andMercury,Mars with the Dragons tail in the third house,Andpars Fortunæin theImo Cœli,ThenJupiterin the twelfth, theCacodemon.Bub.AndVenusin the secondInferna Porta.Nor.I see it, peace, thenSaturnin the Fifth,Lunai'th' Seventh, and much ofScorpio,ThenMarshisGaudium, rising in th'ascendent,And joyn'd withLibratoo, the house ofVenus,And [Imum]Cœli,Marshis exaltationIn the seventh house,Ariesbeing his natural houseAnd where he is now seated, and all these shew himTo be the Almuten.Rus.Yes, he's Lord of the Geniture,Whether you examine it byPtolomeysway,OrMessethales,Lael, orAlkindus.Fis.No other Planet hath so many dignitiesEither by himself, or in regard of the Cusps.Nor.Why hold your tongue then if you know it;VenusThe Lady of the Horoscope, beingLibra,The other part,Marsrules: So that the geniture,Being Nocturnal,Lunais the highest,None else being in sufficient dignity,She being inAriesin the Seventh house,WhereSolexalted, is the Alchoroden.Bub.Yes, for you see he hath his TerminIn the degrees where she is, and enjoyesBy that, six dignities.Fis.Which are clearly moreThan any else that view her in the Scheam.Nor.Why I saw this, and could have told you too,That he beholds her with a Trine aspectHere out of Sagittary, almost partile,And how thatMarsout of the self same house,(But another Sign) here by a Platique aspectLooks at the Hilege, with a Quartile rulingThe house where the Sun is; all this could IHave told you, but that you'll outrun me; and more,That this same Quartile aspect to the Lady of life,Here in the seventh, promises some danger,Cauda Draconisbeing so nearMars,AndCaput Algolin the house of Death.Lat.How, Sir? I pray you clear that.Nor.What is the question first?Rus.Of the Dukes life, what dangers threaten him?Nor.Apparent, and those suddain, when the HyleyOr Alchorodon by direction comeTo a Quartile opposition of the placeWhereMarsis in the Geniture (which is nowAt hand) or else oppose toMarshimself; expect it.Lat.But they may be prevented.Nor.Wisdom onlyThat rules the Stars, may do it; forMarsbeingLord of the Geniture inCapricorn,Is, if you mark it, now aSextilehere,WithVenusLady of the Horoscope.So she being in her Exilium, which isScorpio,AndMarshis Gaudium, is o'rerul'd by him,And clear debilitated five degreesBeneath her ordinary power, soThat, at the most she can but mitigate.Lat.You cannot name the persons bring this danger?Nor.No, that the Stars tell us not, they name no man,That is a work, Sir, of another place.Rus.Tell him whom you suspect, and he'll guess shrewdly.Lat.Sir, we do fear oneAubrey; if 'twere heI should be glad; for we should soon prevent him.Fis.I know him, the Dukes Kinsman, a tall man?Lay hold of'tNorbret.Nor.Let me pause a little,Is he not near of kin unto the Duke?Lat.Yes, reverend Sir.Nor.'Fart for your reverence, keep it till then; and somewhat high of stature?Lat.He is so.Nor.How old is he?Fis.About seven and fifty.Nor.His head and beard inclining to be grey.Lat.Right, Sir.Fis.And fat?Nor.He is somewhat corpulent, is he not?Lat.You speak the man, Sir.Nor.Well, look to him, farewel.[ExitNorb.Lat.Oh, it isAubrey; Gentlemen, I pray you,Let me receive this under all your hands.Rus.Why, he will shew you him in his Magick glassIf you intreat him, and but gratifieA spirit or two more.Lat.He shall eat goldIf he will have it, so shall you all; there's thatAmongst you first, let me have this to sendThe Duke in the mean time; and then what sightsYou please to shew; I'le have you so rewardedAs never Artists were, you shall to CourtAlong with me, and there wait you[r] fortunes.Bub.We have a pretty part of't in our pockets;Boy we will all be new, you shall along too.[Exeunt.
Nor.Where is our Scheme,Let's see, dispatch, nay fumbling now, who's this?
Rus.Chief Gentleman of the Dukes Chamber, Doctor.
Nor.Oh, let him be, good even to him, he's a courtier,I'le spare his complement, tell him: what's here?The geniture Nocturnal, LongitudeAt forty nine and ten minutes? How are the cardins?
Fis.Libra in twenty four, forty four minutes,And Capricorn.
Nor.I see it, see the Planets,Where, how are they dispos'd? the Sun andMercury,Mars with the Dragons tail in the third house,Andpars Fortunæin theImo Cœli,ThenJupiterin the twelfth, theCacodemon.
Bub.AndVenusin the secondInferna Porta.
Nor.I see it, peace, thenSaturnin the Fifth,Lunai'th' Seventh, and much ofScorpio,ThenMarshisGaudium, rising in th'ascendent,And joyn'd withLibratoo, the house ofVenus,And [Imum]Cœli,Marshis exaltationIn the seventh house,Ariesbeing his natural houseAnd where he is now seated, and all these shew himTo be the Almuten.
Rus.Yes, he's Lord of the Geniture,Whether you examine it byPtolomeysway,OrMessethales,Lael, orAlkindus.
Fis.No other Planet hath so many dignitiesEither by himself, or in regard of the Cusps.
Nor.Why hold your tongue then if you know it;VenusThe Lady of the Horoscope, beingLibra,The other part,Marsrules: So that the geniture,Being Nocturnal,Lunais the highest,None else being in sufficient dignity,She being inAriesin the Seventh house,WhereSolexalted, is the Alchoroden.
Bub.Yes, for you see he hath his TerminIn the degrees where she is, and enjoyesBy that, six dignities.
Fis.Which are clearly moreThan any else that view her in the Scheam.
Nor.Why I saw this, and could have told you too,That he beholds her with a Trine aspectHere out of Sagittary, almost partile,And how thatMarsout of the self same house,(But another Sign) here by a Platique aspectLooks at the Hilege, with a Quartile rulingThe house where the Sun is; all this could IHave told you, but that you'll outrun me; and more,That this same Quartile aspect to the Lady of life,Here in the seventh, promises some danger,Cauda Draconisbeing so nearMars,AndCaput Algolin the house of Death.
Lat.How, Sir? I pray you clear that.
Nor.What is the question first?
Rus.Of the Dukes life, what dangers threaten him?
Nor.Apparent, and those suddain, when the HyleyOr Alchorodon by direction comeTo a Quartile opposition of the placeWhereMarsis in the Geniture (which is nowAt hand) or else oppose toMarshimself; expect it.
Lat.But they may be prevented.
Nor.Wisdom onlyThat rules the Stars, may do it; forMarsbeingLord of the Geniture inCapricorn,Is, if you mark it, now aSextilehere,WithVenusLady of the Horoscope.So she being in her Exilium, which isScorpio,AndMarshis Gaudium, is o'rerul'd by him,And clear debilitated five degreesBeneath her ordinary power, soThat, at the most she can but mitigate.
Lat.You cannot name the persons bring this danger?
Nor.No, that the Stars tell us not, they name no man,That is a work, Sir, of another place.
Rus.Tell him whom you suspect, and he'll guess shrewdly.
Lat.Sir, we do fear oneAubrey; if 'twere heI should be glad; for we should soon prevent him.
Fis.I know him, the Dukes Kinsman, a tall man?Lay hold of'tNorbret.
Nor.Let me pause a little,Is he not near of kin unto the Duke?
Lat.Yes, reverend Sir.
Nor.'Fart for your reverence, keep it till then; and somewhat high of stature?
Lat.He is so.
Nor.How old is he?
Fis.About seven and fifty.
Nor.His head and beard inclining to be grey.
Lat.Right, Sir.
Fis.And fat?
Nor.He is somewhat corpulent, is he not?
Lat.You speak the man, Sir.
Nor.Well, look to him, farewel.[ExitNorb.
Lat.Oh, it isAubrey; Gentlemen, I pray you,Let me receive this under all your hands.
Rus.Why, he will shew you him in his Magick glassIf you intreat him, and but gratifieA spirit or two more.
Lat.He shall eat goldIf he will have it, so shall you all; there's thatAmongst you first, let me have this to sendThe Duke in the mean time; and then what sightsYou please to shew; I'le have you so rewardedAs never Artists were, you shall to CourtAlong with me, and there wait you[r] fortunes.
Bub.We have a pretty part of't in our pockets;Boy we will all be new, you shall along too.[Exeunt.
EnterSophia, Matilda,andEdith.
Mat.Good Madam, hear the suit thatEdithurges,With such submiss beseeches; nor remainSo strictly bound to sorrow for your son,That nothing else, though never so befitting,Obtains your ears, or observation.Sop.What would she say? I hear.Edith.My suit is, Madam,That you would please to think as well of justiceDue to your sons revenge, as of more wrong addedTo both your selves for it, in only grieving.Th' undaunted power of Princes should not beConfin'd in deedless cold calamity;Anger, the Twin of sorrow, in your wrongsShould not be smother'd, when his right of birthClaims th' Air as well, and force of coming forth.Sop.Sorrow is due already, anger neverShould be conceived but where it may [be] bornIn some fact fit t'employ his active flame,That else consumes who bears it, and abidesLike a false star that quenches as it glides.Ed.I have such means t'employ it as your wishCan think no better, easier, or securer;And such as but th' honours I intendTo your partakings, I alone could end:But your parts in all dues to crying bloodFor vengeance in the shedder, are much greater:And therefore should work your hands to his slaughter.For your consent to which, 'twere infinite wrongTo your severe and most impartial justice,To move you to forget so false a sonAs with a Mothers duty made you curse him.Mat.Edith, he is forgot, for any sonBorn of my Mother, or to me a Brother.For should we still perform our rights to himWe should partake his wrongs, and as foul beIn blood and damned parricide as he.And therefore tell the happy means that HeavenPuts in thy hand, for all our long'd for freedomFrom so abhorr'd and impious a monster.Sop.Tell what she will, I'le lend nor hand nor earTo whatsoever Heaven puts in her power.[ExitSophia.Mat.How strange she is to what she chiefly wishes!SweetEdithbe not any thought the moreDiscourag'd in thy purpose, but assured,Her heart and prayers are thine; and that we twoShall be enough to all we wish to do.Edith.Madam, my self alone, I make no doubtShall be afforded power enough from HeavenTo end the murtherer: all I wish of you,Is but some richer Ornaments and JewelsThan I am able to provide my self,To help out the defects of my poor Beauty,That yet hath been enough, as now it is,To make his fancy mad with my desire.But you know, Madam, Women never canBe too fair to torment an amorous man;And this mans torments I would heighten still,Till at their highest he be fit to kill.Mat.Thou shalt have all my Jewels and my Mothers,And thou shalt paint too, that his bloods desireMay make him perish in a painted fire;Hast thou been with him yet?Edith.Been with him? no;I set that hour back to haste more his longing;But I have promis'd to his instruments,The admittance of a visit at our house,Where yet I would receive him with all lustreMy sorrow would give leave to, to removeSuspicion of my purpose.Mat.Thou shalt haveAll I can add, sweet wench, in Jewels, tyres,I'le be my self thy dresser; nor may IServe my own love with a contracted HusbandMore sweetly, nor more amply than maist thouThy forward will with his bewitch'd affections:Affect'st thou any personal aid of mineMy noblestEdith?Edith.Nought but your kind prayersFor full effect and speed of my affair.Mat.They are thine, myEdith, as for me, my own;For thou well know'st, if blood shed of the bestShould cool and be forgotten, who would fearTo shed blood still? or where, alas, were thenThe endless love we owe to worthy men?Ed.Love of the worthiest ever bless your highness.[Exe.
Mat.Good Madam, hear the suit thatEdithurges,With such submiss beseeches; nor remainSo strictly bound to sorrow for your son,That nothing else, though never so befitting,Obtains your ears, or observation.
Sop.What would she say? I hear.
Edith.My suit is, Madam,That you would please to think as well of justiceDue to your sons revenge, as of more wrong addedTo both your selves for it, in only grieving.Th' undaunted power of Princes should not beConfin'd in deedless cold calamity;Anger, the Twin of sorrow, in your wrongsShould not be smother'd, when his right of birthClaims th' Air as well, and force of coming forth.
Sop.Sorrow is due already, anger neverShould be conceived but where it may [be] bornIn some fact fit t'employ his active flame,That else consumes who bears it, and abidesLike a false star that quenches as it glides.
Ed.I have such means t'employ it as your wishCan think no better, easier, or securer;And such as but th' honours I intendTo your partakings, I alone could end:But your parts in all dues to crying bloodFor vengeance in the shedder, are much greater:And therefore should work your hands to his slaughter.For your consent to which, 'twere infinite wrongTo your severe and most impartial justice,To move you to forget so false a sonAs with a Mothers duty made you curse him.
Mat.Edith, he is forgot, for any sonBorn of my Mother, or to me a Brother.For should we still perform our rights to himWe should partake his wrongs, and as foul beIn blood and damned parricide as he.And therefore tell the happy means that HeavenPuts in thy hand, for all our long'd for freedomFrom so abhorr'd and impious a monster.
Sop.Tell what she will, I'le lend nor hand nor earTo whatsoever Heaven puts in her power.[ExitSophia.
Mat.How strange she is to what she chiefly wishes!SweetEdithbe not any thought the moreDiscourag'd in thy purpose, but assured,Her heart and prayers are thine; and that we twoShall be enough to all we wish to do.
Edith.Madam, my self alone, I make no doubtShall be afforded power enough from HeavenTo end the murtherer: all I wish of you,Is but some richer Ornaments and JewelsThan I am able to provide my self,To help out the defects of my poor Beauty,That yet hath been enough, as now it is,To make his fancy mad with my desire.But you know, Madam, Women never canBe too fair to torment an amorous man;And this mans torments I would heighten still,Till at their highest he be fit to kill.
Mat.Thou shalt have all my Jewels and my Mothers,And thou shalt paint too, that his bloods desireMay make him perish in a painted fire;Hast thou been with him yet?
Edith.Been with him? no;I set that hour back to haste more his longing;But I have promis'd to his instruments,The admittance of a visit at our house,Where yet I would receive him with all lustreMy sorrow would give leave to, to removeSuspicion of my purpose.
Mat.Thou shalt haveAll I can add, sweet wench, in Jewels, tyres,I'le be my self thy dresser; nor may IServe my own love with a contracted HusbandMore sweetly, nor more amply than maist thouThy forward will with his bewitch'd affections:Affect'st thou any personal aid of mineMy noblestEdith?
Edith.Nought but your kind prayersFor full effect and speed of my affair.
Mat.They are thine, myEdith, as for me, my own;For thou well know'st, if blood shed of the bestShould cool and be forgotten, who would fearTo shed blood still? or where, alas, were thenThe endless love we owe to worthy men?
Ed.Love of the worthiest ever bless your highness.[Exe.