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PER. Why, man, I neere slept winke.
LYS. ’Tis certaine true
’Twas so, and please your grace.
PER. A tempest, say you,
Thunder and lightning? Halfe the night? ’Tis strange.
And yet, having till midnight revelled,
My sences have bin ere since inward turnd, 1225
Sporte-weary and wine-heavy got to bed.
Crataea finds her meanes and time to followe
And steale into my armes, even old Crataea
My mother into Perianders armes.
Thinking her full possest of all that wisht time 1230
Which shee oft sought, and I had almost graunted,
Shee told me shee was Aristaeus daughter
Aerope, who with lookes I oft had woo’d.
My sences judgement lost, with blood enflam’d,
Deluded fancy drewe me to attempt. 1235
While instantly a whistling breath upheav’d
The trembling curteines, and a seeming light
Outdar’d me to behold it. Then I sawe
My poore Melissa, and I heard her too,
But in such shape and language that e’re since 1240
(Crataea by my strangnes frighted out)
My fancy had bin al in terror drownd
Beyond the violentst object of all sence.
But nowe the fresh breath of the gracious morne
Dispells the utmost reliques of all feare. 1245
The fit’s past, and imagination sleepes.
Lysimachus, howe heare y’of Lycophron.
My fresh cares run on him.
LYS. That all this night
That he hath stood out with wondrous patience.
PER. Stood out, Lysimachus? Then wee’l come in 1250
And once more offer grace.
ACTUS IIII, SCENA ij
LYCOPHRON fortuito interveniens
LYC. Nowe am I groane
In love with mine owne person, that can thinke
Howe at these windowes I have oft bin held
In armes of kinges and queenes and lords and ladies,
With subjects eyes of reverence and good prayers. 1255
Yet nowe from thence and heere devided see
My selfe a begger and yet patient bee.
Wer’t Perianders or Melissa’s guifte,
Above the world this patience doth me lifte.
PER. Turne this way, Lycophron, and tell me nowe 1260
Whether it better may your fortunes suite
To hold this base and miserable life
Or by a kind acknowledgemente of love
And duty toward us receive our crowne
And glory of a kingdome. Yet thou maist 1265
Be Perianders sonne and Corinths kinge.
Yf from that wrong thou hold’st me in suspect,
Sad consequents have ben. The worst is mine
That I was author of it. Nowe advise
Whether highe place of envious eminence 1270
Or lowest misery content thee best.
Lay by sad discontent, love thy faire duty,
And so reenter Perianders courte.
What saies my Lycophron?
LYC. Nothing but this,
That Perianders dearest life and crowne 1275
By his owne proclamation forfett ly
T’ Apollo for discourse with Lycophron.
PER. Lysimachus, their lies a barke nowe bound
For Corcyra. Thether we bannish him,
Never to resalute our Corinth more. 1280
Suffer no farewell from his nearest freinds.
Shippe him, Lysimachus, with instant speede.
Command the maister that he land him safe.
This is all leave that Periander takes.
LYC. Corinth, farewell, and Periander too. 1285
For neither Lycophron shall ever woo.
Melissa, sir, Melissa. (Ad Lysimachum susurrantem. Exeunt.)
ACTUS IIII, SCENA iij
CRAT. Sweete kinge, recall this doome on Lycophron.
PER. ’Tis not for love of Lycophron you speake,
But newe insinuation, I repente me. 1290
CRAT. His brother Cypselus is suddaine sicke.
PER. Go you and bind his braines. Yet ’tis no matter,
Ther’s nothing to be lost or much diseas’d.
CRAT. I tell you your sonne Cypselus is sicke.
PER. And so is Lycoprhon, and so am I, 1295
And so are you, Crataea mother, you.
’Tis you and I that have the shaking fits.
CRAT. ’Tis care of you and yours that makes me so.
PER. I must not use to thanke you for that care.
CRAT. I doe but aske your love for all my care. 1300
PER. Y’have had too much on’t, it begins to sower.
I never sawe the inside of’t till nowe.
CRAT. Great Periander, I beseech you, leave
Theis melancholy passions.
PER. Will you leave me?
CRAT. I will when I shall leave to be your mother. 1305
PER. Are you my mother? Some other offices
Have past betweene us then from sonne and mother.
CRAT. Is’t come to that? Then I’le repent me too.
PER. My Lycophron is mad, Cypelus a foole,
And yet a plague beyond both there is. 1310
Crataea, mine other mother is —
CRAT. Not mother
Nowe, nor Crataea. (Seipsam cultro effodit.)
PER. Yet this needed not
So sodeine. Who attend there?
CRAT. ’Tis no matter.
’Tis past your loves helpe nowe. Heavns graunt this blowe
May expiate my parte, yours wilbe next. 1315
PER. Farewell. What little worke gives end
To weary life! I lacke but one to helpe
ACTUS IIII, SCENA iiij
CYPSELUS, EUGENIA, PERIANDER
What, are we all lefte?
The world’s not yet unpeopled, heeres new breeders
Sought. They are come to begg for Lycophron 1320
But ’twill not be. That way turne both and weepe.
Some teares for me reserve, there wilbe need. (Exit.)
EUG. For any kind freinde I can easely weepe,
But nowe of late (and yet I knowe not why)
I neere could love Crataea.
CYP. Killd’ herselfe? 1325
EUG. Brother, who must kill us? Are not wee next?
CYP. Alasse why talke you so? You neere deserv’d,
No more did I.
EUG. No more Melissa did
CYP. ’Twas some bad counsaile then.
EUG. I and that counsail will have time for us. 1330
O what kind man will steale me nowe from hence?
Any poore man, so he be kind and safe.
To many eyes do waite on Lycophron,
That way I cannot page it.
CYP. Howe nowe, sister?
My father kinge will see we shall do well. 1335
EUG. His providence cannot promise for it selfe.
Would I were hence, I would not dy to young.
The court is sad, suspecting, and all eyes
Take dowbtfull lookes from their dejected kinge.
CYP. Why but, Eugenia, tell me, do ye thinke 1340
My father loves not mee?
EUG. Did not he call you
Plaine foole but yesterday for asking him
CYP. Pray then, why are you affraid?
EUG. Not much for losse of thee, common neglect.
But there is something toward for us both. 1345
CYP. Ile goe see howe my father does.
EUG. Go then,
Some mischeif’s acted ere it can be seene.
ACTUS IIII, SCENA v
PHILARCHES, EUETAERUS, SYMPHILUS
EUG. Alas, hee’s half way there.
PHIL. Eugenia, where?
EUG. To Corcyra bannisht. Lycophron I meane.
PHIL. ’Tis but three howres since this morne, and wee 1350
Saluted him, releiv’d him.
EUG. And yet see
What worke in the last howre of these poore three
Has followed by her selfe, onely my father
EUG. And wee can guess, Eugenia.
PHIL. Your love to Lycophron is as highe as ours. 1355
Wee’l followe him with my provided meanes.
EUG. For Gods love, for your love to Lycophron,
Let me steale after too.
PHIL. Eugenia, no.
That’s generall danger. We have set a watch,
Shal larum you fit time for scape and meanes. 1360
Our feares forsawe, and we have lost no time.
We give no counsail, you are wise enoughe.
No, stay for complement to Lycophron.
Farewell. My sister will attend you neere. (Exit.)
EUG. Farewell, good gentlemen, your lo7ves are deare. 1365
Philarches, when you come to Corcyra
Get me my brothers picture truly drawne.
Let it be your first token, I’le requite it.
Meanwhile in the next gallery hangs Melissa’s.
There Ile go gaze till it have drawne some teares 1370
For Lycophron, while to our country gods
I kneele for all your safeties. (Exit.)
ACTUS IIII, SCENE vj
PERIANDER in ambulacho cum ARIONE, ad quos ARISTAEUS
ARIST. Procles, your prisoner with all secret speed
Is riding towards you within two leagues.
PER. Our hand of violence ever fortunate, 1375
Peace, love and justice still exorbitate.
This newes do’s stain Melissa’s sacrifice,
Exasperates her yet unquiett ghost.
But he shall live, Melissa, Procles shall,
Who nowe arrives a glad spectator too 1380
Of these proud triumphs.
Foeminae Corinthiae ornatissimae sed larvatae per totam scenam cantantes, inter singula paria pueri.
Corinthian Ladies. on,
A vestiary tribute yea must pay.
Then on with modesty a robe as gay.
Arion, hand it to these quiristers.
Postquam illi cecinerint, exeunt. Pergit Periander.
Thanks, though we may not view your difference, 1385
Venus must have the roses of their blush
Unmaskt to her. And for Melissa’s sake
Chang to a paleness of kind sympathy.
Performe it, soldiers, boldly and modestly,
The melting jewells to a statue turne 1390
Which for Olympick conquest I have vowd
To Apollo, then those rich incinerate robes
Mixt with the choise of aromatique smells.
Then poore them in my cold Melissa’s urne.
This don, to her Elysium shee’l returne. (Exeunt.) 1395
ACTUS IIII, SCENA vij
EUGENIA sola in una manu speculum, in altera Melissae imaginem ferens
EUG. Helpe, helpe, yea watry planets. I am spente,
Teares flowe not fast enough for Lycophron.
This picture has not powre enoughe to drawe
Their vaporous matter highe enoughe for sighing.
Me thinks I should have streame enoughe for both, 1400
Theis eyes beg from my brain to furnish them.
But my suspiring heart prevents them both.
Looke once again. Why howe I thanke yea both,
They came togeather in divided drops.
This is Melissa’s picture, very like her, 1400
Yet now methinks ’tis Lycophrons, compare them.
This glasse sais ’tis Melissa’s, this glasse lies.
’Tis perfect Lycophron. Yet hee’s not like me.
I was most like my mother, it’s true to mee.
Again — still Lycophron. Bet it so. Kind fancy, 1410
Retaine no other objects but these two.
ACTUS IIII, SCENA viij
PERIANDER, LYSIMACHUS ad EUGENIAM
PER. Lysimachus, will thy leasure serve for sea?
Whose there? Eugenia, stay. What saist thou, man?
LYS. For all the world to do my kinge due service.
PER. Eugenia, you shalbe a travayler too. 1415
Furnish your selfe with company as you please
Hee’s hardly halfe way yet to Corcyra.
Your wisedome (good Lysimachus) and her presence
Will give best testimony of our change.
Wee must not loose him. More, Lysimachus, 1420
Tell him that Corinth is his kingdome nowe,
That I will see him setled ere I parte.
And then I’le change with him for Corcyra.
I have enough of kinge, wish privateness
And his contentment. Nay, Eugenia, 1425
I must provide a regulus for you
And you must learne to tast the bitter sea
And sleepe in tempest.
EUG. With my best of duty
All serious resolution I obey,
And wish obedience growne in Lycophron 1430
Might make him gratious to our kinge and father.
But where your grace talks of a stooping change,
If without breach of duty I may speake,
I would not willingly be messenger.
PER. Tush thou art woman, poor Eugenia. 1435
I knowe the heart and worth of Lycophron,
I knowe how sweet beginning kingdome is,
Howe all unpleasing to himselfe and to men
An awless, lawlesse, o’re growne tyrant is.
Paulo propius ad aurem.
Lysimachus, is’t not as good resigne 1440
This glorious trowble with selfe willingnes
As be thrust out with forrein violence?
I find my selfe the horror of the world.
Coronam et monile dat Lysimacho.
Hast yea, heere is Corinths crowne
And Perianders oth. To night wee’l feast,1445
To morrowe fare well. Heres a heart wants rest. (Exit.)
ACTUS IIII, SCENA viiij
AR. Madam, Neotinus is dead for griefe
He might not goe along with Lycophron.
EUG. Μαντὶ κακῶν ’twas in thy hand I found.
Apollo’s antient sad prediction 1450
Of Cypselus my graundfather and his sonnes.
My first desire of seing Lycophron
Was to remisse before thou brought’st this newes.
And nowe tis ominous. Helpe me to repeate
That Pythian oracle:
Κύψελος᾿Ηετίδης, βασιλεὺς κλεινοῖο Κορίνθου 1455
Αὐτὸς καὶ παῖδες, παίδων γε μὲν οὐκέτι παῖδες.
Cypselus Aetides famous Corinths kinge,
Hee and his sonnes, but not his sonnes ofspring.
Yet wee must goe. Shall wee not wracke at sea,
And with that burden of a tyraunts crowne 1460
Loose our deare lives? Heavens protection
Dispose of us. Danger at home do’s front us
And oracles have dispensation
DET. Sir, y’are beholding to my patience.
RES. Would I could sute it with just recompence.
DET. Methought your Lycophron was quickly gon.
RES. The hast was wisht alike by sire and sonne. 1485
DET. For your Crataea, as in every scene,
So in the last cohaerence was but meane.
RES. Such consequence as divers stories give
We take. Beg pardon, where we do not thrive.
DET. Yea talke of conquest over Procles got, 1470
But of the manner we’ve not seene a lot.
RES. Nowe speakest thou like the asse of all the schooles,
Fighting and shewes please women, boyes and fooles.
DET. Oh then belike penning and action
Is all your glory.
RES. No, Detraction, 1475
Our little practise and much idlenes
Our weakenes in them both bid us confesse.
Reward writes well, schollers but learne to speake
’Mongst whome who better order’d studies breake
With numb’d joynts wrighting many hundred lines. 1480
Detraction, with thy numerous affines
Knowe hee contem’d thee in his first of thoughts
And that some forty of these heere have wrought
His willing paines.
DET. Come are yea ready? Sirs,
The epilogue is past, who homeward stirs? 1485
I’me sicke. I’me mad with’t, whoo’le help me out?
RES. Nay, by your favour we’le have one more bout.
DET. Poxe, whistler, nose, face, you.
RES. Prethee be quiet,
There is no way out.
DET. What’s left I will not buy it
With the least minutes torment.
RES. Then you shall. 1490
DET. By heaven Il’e study to disgrace you all.
Go to Act V