Cleon. THE rest are making ready, sir. Lys. So let them; there is time enough. Diph. You are the brother to the king, my lord; we will take your word.

Lys. Strato, thou hast some skill in poetry: What think'st thou of the masque? Will it be well? Strat. As well as masque can be. Lys. As masque can be?

Strat. Yes; they must commend their king, and speak in praise of the assembly; bless the bride and bridegroom, in person of some god. They are tied to rules of flattery.

Cle. See, good my lord, who is returned!

Enter MELANTIUS.

Lys. Noble Melantius! the land, by me, Welcomes thy virtues home to Rhodes. Thou, that with blood abroad buyest us our peace! The breath of kings is like the breath of gods; My brother wished thee here, and thou art here. He will be too kind, and weary thee with Often welcomes. But the time doth give thee A welcome above his, or all the world's.

Mel. My lord, my thanks; but these scratch'd

limbs of mine

I love the keeper till he let it go,
And then I follow it.

Diph. Hail, worthy brother!

He, that rejoices not at your return In safety, is mine enemy for ever.

Made me imagine, you had heard the change. Mel. Who hath he taken then?

Lys. A lady, sir,

That bears the light above her, and strikes dead With flashes of her eye: the fair Evadne,

faulty;

I sent for thee to exercise thine arms

With me at Patria: Thou cam'st not, Diphilus; It was ill.

Diph. My noble brother, my excuse

Is my king's straight command; which you, my lord, Can witness with me.

Lys. It is true, Melantius;

He might not come, till the solemnity
Of this great match was past.

Diph. Have you heard of it?

Mel. Yes, I have given cause to those, that Envy my deeds abroad, to call me gamesome: I have no other business here at Rhodes. Lys. We have a masque to-night, and tread

A soldier's measure.

you must

Mel. These soft and silken wars are not for me: The music must be shrill, and all confused, That stirs my blood; and then I dance with arms. But is Amintor wed? Diph. This day.

Mel. All joys upon him! for he is my friend. Wonder not, that I call a man so young my friend: His worth is great; valiant he is, and temperate; And one that never thinks his life his own, If his friend need it. When he was a boy, As oft as I returned (as, without boast, I brought home conquest) he would gaze upon me, And view me round, to find in what one limb The virtue lay to do those things he heard. Then would he wish to see my sword, and feel The quickness of the edge, and in his hand Weigh it: He oft would make me smile at this. His youth did promise much, and his ripe years Will see it all performed,

Enter ASPATIA, passing by.

Hail, maid and wife!

Thou fair Aspatia, may the holy knot,

That thou hast tied to-day, last till the hand
Of age undo it! mayest thou bring a race
Unto Amintor, that may fill the world
Successively with soldiers!

Asp. My hard fortunes

Deserve not scorn; for I was never proud,

When they were good,

Mél. How is this?

Lys. You are mistaken,

For she is not married.

Mel. You said Amintor was,

Diph. It is true; but

Mel. Pardon me, I did receive

Letters at Patria from my Amintor, That he should marry her.

Diph. And so it stood

In all opinion long; but your arrival

[Erit.

Mel. Peace of heart betwixt them!
But this is strange.

Lys. The king my brother did it
To honour you; and these solemnities
Are at his charge.

Mel. It is royal, like himself. But I am sad
My speech bears so unfortunate a sound
To beautiful Aspatia. There is rage
Hid in her father's breast, Calianax,

Bent long against me; and he should not think,
If I could call it back, that I would take
So base revenges, as to scorn the state
Of his neglected daughter. Holds he still
His greatness with the king?

Lys. Yes. But this lady
Walks discontented, with her watery eyes
Bent on the earth. The unfrequented woods
Are her delight; and, when she sees a bank
Stuck full of flowers, she, with a sigh, will tell
Her servants, what a pretty place it were
To bury lovers in; and make her maids
Pluck them, and strew her over like a corse.
She carries with her an infectious grief,
That strikes all her beholders; she will sing
The mournfullest things, that ever ear hath heard,
And sigh, and sing again; and, when the rest
Of our young ladies, in their wanton blood,
Tell mirthful tales in course, that fill the room
With laughter, she will, with so sad a look,
Bring forth a story of the silent death
Of some forsaken virgin, which her grief
Will put in such a phrase, that, ere she end,
She'll send them weeping one by one away.

Mel. She has a brother under my command, Like her; a face as womanish as hers; But with a spirit, that hath much out-grown The number of his years.

Enter AMINTOR,

Cle. My lord, the bridegroom!

Mel. I might run fiercely, not more hastily,
Upon my foe. I love thee well, Amintor }
My mouth is much too narrow for my heart;
I joy to look upon those eyes of thine;
Thou art my friend, but my disorder'd speech
Cuts off my love.

Amin. Thou art Melantius;

All love is spoke in that. A sacrifice,

To thank the gods Melantius is return'd

In safety! Victory sits on his sword,

As she was wont: May she build there and dwell;
And may thy armour be, as it hath been,
Only thy valour and thy innocence!

What endless treasures would our enemies give,
That I might hold thee still thus!

Mel. I am but poor

In words; but credit me, young man, thy mother

Could do no more but weep for joy to see thee
After long absence: All the wounds, I have,
Fetch'd not so much away, nor all the cries
Of widowed mothers. But this is peace,
And that was war.

Amin. Pardon, thou holy god

Of marriage-bed, and frown not; I am forc'd,
In answer of such noble tears as those,

To weep upon my wedding-day.

Mel. I fear thou art grown too fickle; for I hear A lady mourns for thee; men say, to death; Forsaken of thee; on what terms I know not. Amin. She had my promise; but the king forbad it, And made me make this worthy change, thy sister, Accompanied with graces far above her; With whom I long to lose my lusty youth, And grow old in her arms.

Mel. Be prosperous!

Enter Messenger.

Mess. My lord, the masquers rage for you. Lys. We are gone. Cleon, Strato, DiphilusAmin. We will all attend you. We shall trouble

you

With our solemnities.

Mel. Not so, Amintor:

But if you laugh at my rude carriage
In peace, I'll do as much for you in war,
When you come thither. Yet I have a mistress
To bring to your delights; rough though I am,
I have a mistress, and she has a heart,
She says; but, trust me, it is stone, no better;
There is no place, that I can challenge in it.
But you stand still, and here my way lies,

Enter CALIANAX with DIAGORAS. Cal. Diagoras, look to the doors better, for shame! you let in all the world, and anon the king will rail at me-why, very well said-by Jove, the king will have the show in the court. Diag. Why do you swear so, my lord? You know, he will have it here.

Cal. By this light, if he be wise, he will not. Diag. And, if he will not be wise, you are for

sworn.

Cal. One may wear out his heart with swearing, and get thanks on no side. I'll be gonelook to it, who will.

Diag. My lord, I shall never keep them out. Pray, stay; your looks will terrify them.

Cal. My looks terrify them, you coxcombly ass, you! I will be judged by all the company,

whether thou hast not a worse face than I. Diag. I mean, because they know you and your office.

Cal. Office! I would I could put it off: I am sure I sweat quite through my office. I might have made room at my daughter's wedding: they have near killed her among them; and now I must do service for him, that hath forsaken her. Serve, that will. [Exit.

Diag. He is so humourous since his daughter was forsaken.-Hark, hark! there, there! so, so! Codes, Codes! [Knock within.] What now?

Mel. [within.] Open the door. Diag. Who is there?

Mel. [within] Melantius.

Diag. I hope your lordship brings no troop with you; for, if you do, I must return them.

Enter MELANTIUS and a Lady.

Mel. None but this lady, sir.

Diag. The ladies are all placed above, save those, that come in the king's troop: The best of Rhodes sit there, and there is room.

Mel. I thank you, sir. When I have seen you placed, madam, I must attend the king; but, the masque done, I'll wait on you again.

your

Diag. Stand back there-room for my lord Melantius-pray, bear back-this is no place for such youths and their trulls-let the doors shut again.-No!-do heads itch? I will scratch them for you,-So, now thrust and hang.-Again! who is it now?—I cannot blame my lord Calianax for going away: Would he were here! he would run raging among them, and break a dozen wiser heads than his own, in the twinkling of an eye. What's the news now?

Within.] I pray you, can you help me to the speech of the master-cook?

Diag. If I open the door, I will cook some of your calves heads. Peace, rogues!-Again! who is it?

Mel. [within.] Melantius.

Enter CALIANAX.

Cal. Let him not in. Diag. O, my lord, I must. for my lord.

Make room there