The Maids Tragedy

Ant. Of Ariadne, Madam?

Asp. Yes that piece. This should be Theseus, h'as a cousening face, You meant him for a man.

Ant. He was so Madam.Asp. Why then 'tis well enough, never look back,                 You have a full wind, and a false heart Theseus;                 Does not the story say, his Keel was split,                 Or his Masts spent, or some kind rock or other                 Met with his Vessel?Ant. Not as I remember.Asp. It should ha' been so; could the Gods know this,                  And not of all their number raise a storm?                  But they are all as ill. This false smile was well                  exprest;                  Just such another caught me; you shall not go                  so Antiphila,                  In this place work a quick-sand,                  And over it a shallow smiling Water.                  And his ship ploughing it, and then a fear.                  Do that fear to the life Wench.Ant. 'Twill wrong the story.

Asp. 'Twill make the story wrong'd by wanton Poets Live long and be believ'd; but where's the Lady?

Ant. There Madam.Asp. Fie, you have mist it here Antiphila,                 You are much mistaken Wench;                 These colours are not dull and pale enough,                 To shew a soul so full of misery                 As this sad Ladies was; do it by me,                 Do it again by me the lost Aspatia,                 And you shall find all true but the wild Island;                 I stand upon the Sea breach now, and think                 Mine arms thus, and mine hair blown with the wind,                 Wild as that desart, and let all about me                 Tell that I am forsaken, do my face                 (If thou hadst ever feeling of a sorrow)                 Thus, thus, Antiphila strive to make me look                 Like sorrows monument; and the trees about me,                 Let them be dry and leaveless; let the Rocks                 Groan with continual surges, and behind me                 Make all a desolation; look, look Wenches,                 A miserable life of this poor Picture.Olym. Dear Madam! Asp. I have done, sit down, and let us                 Upon that point fix all our eyes, that point there;                 Make a dull silence till you feel a sudden sadness                 Give us new souls.

[Enter Calianax.

 Cal. The King may do this, and he may not do it;                 My child is wrong'd, disgrac'd: well, how now Huswives?                 What at your ease? is this a time to sit still? up you                 young                 Lazie Whores, up or I'le sweng you.Olym. Nay, good my Lord.Cal. You'l lie down shortly, get you in and work;                 What are you grown so resty? you want ears,                 We shall have some of the Court boys do that Office.Ant. My Lord we do no more than we are charg'd:                 It is the Ladies pleasure we be thus in grief;                 She is forsaken.                 Cal. There's a Rogue too,                 A young dissembling slave; well, get you in,                 I'le have a bout with that boy; 'tis high time                 Now to be valiant; I confess my youth                 Was never prone that way: what, made an Ass?                 A Court stale? well I will be valiant,                 And beat some dozen of these Whelps; I will; and there's                 Another of 'em, a trim cheating souldier,                 I'le maul that Rascal, h'as out-brav'd me twice;                 But now I thank the Gods I am valiant;                 Go, get you in, I'le take a course with all.[Exeunt Omnes

Actus Tertius

Enter Cleon, Strato, Diphilus.

Cle. Your sister is not up yet.Diph. Oh, Brides must take their mornings rest, The night is troublesome.Stra. But not tedious.Diph. What odds, he has not my Sisters maiden-head to                 night?Stra. No, it's odds against any Bridegroom living, he                 ne're gets it while he lives.Diph. Y'are merry with my Sister, you'l please to allow                 me the same freedom with your Mother.Stra. She's at your service.

Diph. Then she's merry enough of her self, she needs no tickling; knock at the door.

Stra. We shall interrupt them.

Diph. No matter, they have the year before them. Good morrow Sister; spare your self to day, the night will come again.

[Enter Amintor.

Amint. Who's there, my Brother? I am no readier yet,                 your Sister is but now up.Diph. You look as you had lost your eyes to night; I                 think you ha' not slept.Amint. I faith I have not.Diph. You have done better then.Amint. We ventured for a Boy; when he is Twelve,                 He shall command against the foes of Rhodes.Stra. You cannot, you want sleep.                                                              [Aside.Amint. 'Tis true; but she                 As if she had drunk Lethe, or had made                 Even with Heaven, did fetch so still a sleep,                 So sweet and sound.Diph. What's that?

Amint. Your Sister frets this morning, and does turn her eyes upon me, as people on their headsman; she does chafe, and kiss, and chafe again, and clap my cheeks; she's in another world.

Diph. Then I had lost; I was about to lay, you had not                 got her Maiden-head to night.Amint. Ha! he does not mock me; y'ad lost indeed;                 I do not use to bungle.Cleo. You do deserve her.

Amint. I laid my lips to hers, and [t]hat wild breath That was rude and rough to me, last night

[_Aside.

                 Was sweet as April; I'le be guilty too,                 If these be the effects.

[Enter Melantius.

Mel. Good day Amintor, for to me the name Of Brother is too distant; we are friends, And that is nearer.

Amint. Dear Melantius! Let me behold thee; is it possible?Mel. What sudden gaze is this?Amint. 'Tis wonderous strange. Mel. Why does thine eye desire so strict a view                 Of that it knows so well?                 There's nothing here that is not thine. Amint. I wonder much Melantius,                 To see those noble looks that make me think                 How vertuous thou art; and on the sudden                 'Tis strange to me, thou shouldst have worth and honour,                 Or not be base, and false, and treacherous,                 And every ill. But— Mel. Stay, stay my Friend,                 I fear this sound will not become our loves; no more,                 embrace me.Amint. Oh mistake me not;                 I know thee to be full of all those deeds                 That we frail men call good: but by the course                 Of nature thou shouldst be as quickly chang'd                 As are the winds, dissembling as the Sea,                 That now wears brows as smooth as Virgins be,                 Tempting the Merchant to invade his face,                 And in an hour calls his billows up,                 And shoots 'em at the Sun, destroying all                 He carries on him. O how near am I

[Aside.

To utter my sick thoughts!Mel. But why, my Friend, should I be so by Nature?

Amin. I have wed thy Sister, who hath vertuous thoughts Enough for one whole family, and it is strange That you should feel no want.

Mel. Believe me, this complement's too cunning for me.

Diph. What should I be then by the course of nature, They having both robb'd me of so much vertue?

Strat. O call the Bride, my Lord Amintor, that we may see her blush, and turn her eyes down; it is the prettiest sport.

Amin. Evadne!Evad. My Lord! [Within.Amint. Come forth my Love,                 Your Brothers do attend to wish you joy.Evad. I am not ready yet.Amint. Enough, enough.Evad. They'l mock me.Amint. Faith thou shalt come in.

[Enter Evadne.

Mel. Good morrow Sister; he that understands Whom you have wed, need not to wish you joy. You have enough, take heed you be not proud.

Diph. O Sister, what have you done!Evad. I done! why, what have I done?Strat. My Lord Amintor swears you are no Maid now.Evad. Push!Strat. I faith he does.Evad. I knew I should be mockt.Diph. With a truth.Evad. If 'twere to do again, in faith I would not marry.Amint. Not I by Heaven. [Aside.Diph. Sister, Dula swears she heard you cry two rooms off.Evad. Fie how you talk!Diph. Let's see you walk.Evad. By my troth y'are spoil'd.Mel. Amintor!Amint. Ha!Mel. Thou art sad.Amint. Who I? I thank you for that, shall Diphilus, thou and I sing a catch?Mel. How!Amint. Prethee let's.Mel. Nay, that's too much the other way.Amint. I am so lightned with my happiness: how dost thou Love? kiss me.Evad. I cannot love you, you tell tales of me.Amint. Nothing but what becomes us: Gentlemen,                 Would you had all such Wives, and all the world,                 That I might be no wonder; y'are all sad;                 What, do you envie me? I walk methinks                 On water, and ne're sink, I am so light.Mel. 'Tis well you are so.

Amint. Well? how can I be other, when she looks thus? Is there no musick there? let's dance.

Mel. Why? this is strange, Amintor!Amint. I do not know my self; Yet I could wish my joy were less.Diph. I'le marry too, if it will make one thus.Evad. Amintor, hark. [Aside.Amint. What says my Love? I must obey.Evad. You do it scurvily, 'twill be perceiv'd.Cle. My Lord the King is here.

[Enter King and Lysi.

Amint. Where?Stra. And his Brother.

King. Good morrow all. Amintor, joy on, joy fall thick upon thee! And Madam, you are alter'd since I saw you, I must salute you; you are now anothers; How lik't you your nights rest?

Evad. Ill Sir.Amint. I! 'deed she took but little.Lys. You'l let her take more, and thank her too shortly.King. Amintor, wert thou truly honest Till thou wert Married?Amint. Yes Sir.King. Tell me then, how shews the sport unto thee?Amint. Why well.King. What did you do?

Amint. No more nor less than other couples use; You know what 'tis; it has but a course name.

King. But prethee, I should think by her black eye, And her red cheek, she should be quick and stirring In this same business, ha?

Amint. I cannot tell, I ne're try'd other Sir, but I perceive                 She is as quick as you delivered.King. Well, you'l trust me then Amintor,                 To choose a Wife for you agen?Amint. No never Sir.King. Why? like you this so ill?Amint. So well I like her.                 For this I bow my knee in thanks to you,                 And unto Heaven will pay my grateful tribute                 Hourly, and to hope we shall draw out                 A long contented life together here,                 And die both full of gray hairs in one day;                 For which the thanks is yours; but if the powers                 That rule us, please to call her first away,                 Without pride spoke, this World holds not a Wife                 Worthy to take her room.King. I do not like this; all forbear the room                 But you Amintor and your Lady. I have some speech with                 You, that may concern your after living well.                 Amint. He will not tell me that he lies with her: if                 he do,                 Something Heavenly stay my heart, for I shall be apt                 To thrust this arm of mine to acts unlawful.King. You will suffer me to talk with her Amintor,                 And not have a jealous pang!Amint. Sir, I dare trust my Wife                 With whom she dares to talk, and not be jealous.King. How do you like Amintor?Evad. As I did Sir.King. How's that!

Evad. As one that to fulfil your will and pleasure, I have given leave to call me Wife and Love.

King. I see there is no lasting Faith in Sin; They that break word with Heaven, will break again With all the World, and so dost thou with me.

Evad. How Sir?King. This subtile Womans ignorance                 Will not excuse you; thou hast taken Oaths                 So great, methought they did not well become                 A Womans mouth, that thou wouldst ne're enjoy                 A man but me.Evad. I never did swear so; you do me wrong.King. Day and night have heard it.Evad. I swore indeed that I would never love                 A man of lower place; but if your fortune                 Should throw you from this height, I bade you trust                 I would forsake you, and would bend to him                 That won your Throne; I love with my ambition,                 Not with mine eyes; but if I ever yet                 Toucht any other, Leprosie light here                 Upon my face, which for your Royalty I would not stain.King. Why thou dissemblest, and it is in me to punish thee.

Evad. Why, it is in me then not to love you, which will More afflict your body, than your punishment can mine.

King. But thou hast let Amintor lie with thee.Evad. I ha'not.King. Impudence! he saies himself so.Evad. He lyes.King. He does not.

Evad. By this light he does, strangely and basely, and I'le prove it so; I did not shun him for a night, But told him I would never close with him.

King. Speak lower, 'tis false.

Evad. I'm no man to answer with a blow; Or if I were, you are the King; but urge me not, 'tis most true.

King. Do not I know the uncontrouled thoughts                 That youth brings with him, when his bloud is high                 With expectation and desires of that                 He long hath waited for? is not his spirit,                 Though he be temperate, of a valiant strain,                 As this our age hath known? what could he do,                 If such a sudden speech had met his blood,                 But ruine thee for ever? if he had not kill'd thee,                 He could not bear it thus; he is as we,                 Or any other wrong'd man.Evad. It is dissembling.

King. Take him; farewel; henceforth I am thy foe; And what disgraces I can blot thee, look for.

Evad. Stay Sir; Amintor, you shall hear, Amintor.Amint. What my Love?

Evad. Amintor, thou hast an ingenious look, And shouldst be vertuous; it amazeth me, That thou canst make such base malicious lyes.

Amint. What my dear Wife?

Evad. Dear Wife! I do despise thee; Why, nothing can be baser, than to sow Dissention amongst Lovers.

Amint. Lovers! who?Evad. The King and me.Amint. O Heaven!Evad. Who should live long, and love without distaste,                 Were it not for such pickthanks as thy self!                 Did you lie with me? swear now, and be punisht in hell                 For this.Amint. The faithless Sin I made                 To fair Aspatia, is not yet reveng'd,                 It follows me; I will not lose a word                 To this wild Woman; but to you my King,                 The anguish of my soul thrusts out this truth,                 Y'are a Tyrant; and not so much to wrong                 An honest man thus, as to take a pride                 In talking with him of it.Evad. Now Sir, see how loud this fellow lyed.Amint. You that can know to wrong, should know how                 Men must right themselves: what punishment is due                 From me to him that shall abuse my bed!                 It is not death; nor can that satisfie,                 Unless I send your lives through all the Land,                 To shew how nobly I have freed my self.King. Draw not thy Sword, thou knowest I cannot fear                 A subjects hand; but thou shalt feel the weight of this                 If thou dost rage.Amint. The weight of that?                 If you have any worth, for Heavens sake think                 I fear not Swords; for as you are meer man,                 I dare as easily kill you for this deed,                 As you dare think to do it; but there is                 Divinity about you, that strikes dead                 My rising passions, as you are my King,                 I fall before you, and present my Sword                 To cut mine own flesh, if it be your will.                 Alas! I am nothing but a multitude                 Of walking griefs; yet should I murther you,                 I might before the world take the excuse                 Of madness: for compare my injuries,                 And they will well appear too sad a weight                 For reason to endure; but fall I first                 Amongst my sorrows, ere my treacherous hand                 Touch holy things: but why? I know not what                 I have to say; why did you choose out me                 To make thus wretched? there were thousand fools                 Easie to work on, and of state enough within the Island.Evad. I would not have a fool, it were no credit for me.Amint. Worse and worse!                 Thou that dar'st talk unto thy Husband thus,                 Profess thy self a Whore; and more than so,                 Resolve to be so still; it is my fate                 To bear and bow beneath a thousand griefs,                 To keep that little credit with the World.                 But there were wise ones too, you might have ta'ne                 another.King. No; for I believe thee honest, as thou wert valiant.Amint. All the happiness                 Bestow'd upon me, turns into disgrace;                 Gods take your honesty again, for I                 Am loaden with it; good my Lord the King, be private                  in it.King. Thou may'st live Amintor,                 Free as thy King, if thou wilt wink at this,                 And be a means that we may meet in secret.Amint. A Baud! hold my breast, a bitter curse                 Seize me, if I forget not all respects                 That are Religious, on another word                 Sounded like that, and through a Sea of sins                 Will wade to my revenge, though I should call                 Pains here, and after life upon my soul.King. Well I am resolute you lay not with her,                 And so leave you.

[Exit King.

Evad. You must be prating, and see what follows.

Amint. Prethee vex me not. Leave me, I am afraid some sudden start Will pull a murther on me.

Evad. I am gone; I love my life well.

[Exit Evadne.

Amint. I hate mine as much.                 This 'tis to break a troth; I should be glad                 If all this tide of grief would make me mad.

[Exit.

Enter Melantius.

Mel. I'le know the cause of all Amintors griefs, Or friendship shall be idle.

[Enter Calianax.

Cal. O Melantius, my Daughter will die.Mel. Trust me, I am sorry; would thou hadst ta'ne her room.Cal. Thou art a slave, a cut-throat slave, a bloody treacherous slave.Melan. Take heed old man, thou wilt be heard to rave,                 And lose thine Offices.Cal. I am valiant grown                 At all these years, and thou art but a slave.Mel. Leave, some company will come, and I respect                 Thy years, not thee so much, that I could wish                 To laugh at thee alone.Cal. I'le spoil your mirth, I mean to fight with thee;                 There lie my Cloak, this was my Fathers Sword,                 And he durst fight; are you prepar'd?Mel. Why? wilt thou doat thy self out of thy life?                 Hence get thee to bed, have careful looking to, and eat                 warm things, and trouble not me: my head is full of                 thoughts more weighty than thy life or death can be.Cal. You have a name in War, when you stand safe                 Amongst a multitude; but I will try                 What you dare do unto a weak old man                 In single fight; you'l ground I fear: Come draw.Mel. I will not draw, unless thou pul'st thy death                 Upon thee with a stroke; there's no one blow                 That thou canst give, hath strength enough to kill me.                 Tempt me not so far then; the power of earth                 Shall not redeem thee.Cal. I must let him alone,                 He's stout and able; and to say the truth,                 However I may set a face, and talk,                 I am not valiant: when I was a youth,                 I kept my credit with a testie trick I had,                 Amongst cowards, but durst never fight.Mel. I will not promise to preserve your life if you do stay.

Cal. I would give half my Land that I durst fight with that proud man a little: if I had men to hold, I would beat him, till he ask me mercy.

Mel. Sir, will you be gone?

Cal. I dare not stay, but I will go home, and beat my servants all over for this.

[Exit Calianax.

Mel. This old fellow haunts me,                 But the distracted carriage of mine Amintor                 Takes deeply on me, I will find the cause;                 I fear his Conscience cries, he wrong'd Aspatia.

Enter Amintor.

Amint. Mens eyes are not so subtil to perceive                 My inward misery; I bear my grief                 Hid from the World; how art thou wretched then?                 For ought I know, all Husbands are like me;                 And every one I talk with of his Wife,                 Is but a well dissembler of his woes                 As I am; would I knew it, for the rareness afflicts me                 now.Mel. Amintor, We have not enjoy'd our friendship of late,                 for we were wont to charge our souls in talk.Amint. Melantius, I can tell thee a good jest of Strato and                 a Lady the last day.Mel. How wast?Amint. Why such an odd one.

Mel. I have long'd to speak with you, not of an idle jest that's forc'd, but of matter you are bound to utter to me.

Amint. What is that my friend?Mel. I have observ'd, your words fall from your tongue                 Wildly; and all your carriage,                 Like one that strove to shew his merry mood,                 When he were ill dispos'd: you were not wont                 To put such scorn into your speech, or wear                 Upon your face ridiculous jollity:                 Some sadness sits here, which your cunning would                 Cover o're with smiles, and 'twill not be. What is it?Amint. A sadness here! what cause                 Can fate provide for me, to make me so?                 Am I not lov'd through all this Isle? the King                 Rains greatness on me: have I not received                 A Lady to my bed, that in her eye                 Keeps mounting fire, and on her tender cheeks                 Inevitable colour, in her heart                 A prison for all vertue? are not you,                 Which is above all joyes, my constant friend?                 What sadness can I have? no, I am light,                 And feel the courses of my blood more warm                 And stirring than they were; faith marry too,                 And you will feel so unexprest a joy                 In chast embraces, that you will indeed appear another.Mel. You may shape, Amintor,                 Causes to cozen the whole world withal,                 And your self too; but 'tis not like a friend,                 To hide your soul from me; 'tis not your nature                 To be thus idle; I have seen you stand                 As you were blasted; midst of all your mirth,                 Call thrice aloud, and then start, feigning joy                 So coldly: World! what do I here? a friend                 Is nothing, Heaven! I would ha' told that man                 My secret sins; I'le search an unknown Land,                 And there plant friendship, all is withered here;                 Come with a complement, I would have fought,                 Or told my friend he ly'd, ere sooth'd him so;                 Out of my bosom.Amint. But there is nothing.

Mel. Worse and worse; farewel; From this time have acquaintance, but no friend.