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That calls my flesh unto them: I am cold:
Be resolute, and bear them company.
There's something, yet, which I am loth to leave.
There's man enough in me to meet the fears,
That death can bring; and yet, 'would it were

I can find nothing in the whole discourse
Of death, I durst not meet the boldest way;
Yet still, betwixt the reason and the act,
The wrong I to Aspatia did stands up :
I have not such another fault to answer.
Though she may justly arm herself with scorn
And hate of me, my soul will part less troubled,
When I have paid to her in tears my sorrow.
I will not leave this act unsatisfied,

If all that's left in me can answer it.


I've heard, if there be any life, but bow
The body thus, and it will shew itself.
Oh, she is gone! I will not leave her yet.
Since out of justice we must challenge nothing,
I'll call it mercy, if you'll pity me,
Ye heavenly powers! and lend, for some few
The blessed soul to this fair seat again.
No comfort comes; the gods deny me too!
I'll bow the body once again. Aspatia!
The soul is fled for ever; and I wrong
Myself, so long to lose her company.
Must I talk now? Here's to be with thee, love!
[Kills himself.

Enter Servant.

Serv. This is a great grace to my lord, to have

Asp. Was it a dream? There stands Amintor the new king come to him: I must tell him he


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Asp. And talked of tears and sorrow unto her? Amin. 'Tis true; and 'till these happy signs in thee

Did stay my course, 'twas thither I was going. Asp. Thou'rt there already, and these wounds are hers:

Those threats, I brought with me, sought not re-

But came to fetch this blessing from thy hand.
I am Aspatia yet.

Amin. Dare my soul ever look abroad again?
Asp. I shall surely live, Amintor; I am well :
A kind of healthful joy wanders within me.

Amin. The world wants lives to excuse thy loss!
Come, let me bear thee to some place of help.
Asp. Amintor, thou must stay; I must rest here;
My strength begins to disobey my will.
How dost thou, my best soul? I would fain live
Now, if I could: Wouldst thou have loved me,

Amin. Alas!

All that I am's not worth a hair from thee,

is entering. Oh, heaven! Help, help!


Lys. Where's Amintor?
Serv. Oh, there, there.
Lys. How strange is this!
Cal. What should we do here?

Mel. These deaths are such acquainted things

with me,

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Diph. Oh, brother!

Here lies your sister slain; you lose yourself
In sorrow there.

Mel. Why, Diphilus, it is

A thing to laugh at, in respect of this:
Here was my sister, father, brother, son:

All that I had! Speak once again: What youth

Asp. Give me thy hand; my hands grope up Lies slain there by thee?

and down,

And cannot find thee: I am wondrous sick :
Have I thy hand, Amintor?

Amin. Thou greatest blessing of the world,
thou hast.

Asp. I do believe thee better than my sense. Oh! I must go. Farewell! [Dies.

Amin. She swoons! Aspatia! Help! for
heaven's sake, water!

Such as may chain life ever to this frame.
Aspatia, speak! What, no help yet? I fool!
I'll chafe her temples: Yet there's nothing stirs :
Some hidden power tell her, Amintor calls,
And let her answer me! Aspatia, speak!

Amin. 'Tis Aspatia.

My last is said. Let me give up my soul
Into thy bosom.


Cal. What's that? what's that? Aspatia!
Mel. I never did

Repent the greatness of my heart till now:
It will not burst at need.

Cal. My daughter dead here too! And you have all fine new tricks to grieve; but I never knew any but direct crying.

Mel. I am a prattler; but no more.
[Offers to kill himself.

Diph. Hold, brother.


Lys. Stop him.

Diph. Fie! how unmanly was this offer in you; Does this become our strain?

Cal. I know not what the matter is, but I am grown very kind, and am friends with you. You have given me that among you, will kill me quickly; but I'll go home, and live as long as I can.

Mel. His spirit is but poor, that can be kept From death for want of weapons.

Is not my hand a weapon sharp enough

To stop my breath? or, if you tie down those,
I vow, Amintor, I will never eat,

Or drink, or sleep, or have to do with that,
That may preserve life! This I swear to keep.

Lys. Look to him tho', and bear those bodies in. May this a fair example be to me,

To rule with temper: For, on lustful kings,
Unlooked-for, sudden deaths from heaven are sent;
But curst is he, that is their instrument.
[Exeunt omnes.

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Enter DION, CLEREMONT. and THRASILINE. Cle. HERE'S nor lords nor ladies! Dion. Credit me, gentlemen, I wonder at it They received strict charge from the king to attend here. Besides, it was boldly published, that no officer should forbid any gentlemen, that desire to attend and hear.

Cle. Can you guess the cause?

Dion. Sir, it is plain, about the Spanish prince, that's come to marry our kingdom's heir, and be our sovereign.

Thra. Many, that will seem to know much, say, she looks not on him like a maid in love.

Dion. Oh, sir, the multitude (that seldom know any thing but their own opinions) speak that, they would have; but the prince, before his own approach, received so many confident messages from the state, that I think she's resolved to be ruled.

Cle. Sir, it is thought, with her he shall enjoy both these kingdoms of Sicily and Calabria.

Dion. Sir, it is, without controversy, so meant. But 'twill be a troublesome labour for him to enjoy both these kingdoms with safety, the right heir to one of them living, and living so virtuously; especially, the people admiring the bravery of his mind, and lamenting his injuries. Cle. Who? Philaster?

Dion. Yes; Whose father, we all know, was by our late king of Calabria unrighteously deposed from his fruitful Sicily. Myself drew some blood in those wars, which I would give my hand to be washed from.

Cle. Sir, my ignorance in state policy will not let me know, why, Philaster being heir to one of these kingdoms, the king should suffer him to walk abroad with such free liberty.

Dion. Sir, it seems your nature is more constant than to enquire after state news. But the king, of late, made a hazard of both the kingdoms, of Sicily and his own, with offering but to imprison Philaster. At which the city was in arms, not to

be charmed down by any state order or proclamation, till they saw Philaster ride through the streets pleased, and without a guard; at which they threw their hats, and their arms from them; some to make bonfires, some to drink, all for his deliverance. Which, wise men say, is the cause, the king labours to bring in the power of a foreign nation, to awe his own with.

King. To give a stronger testimony of love
Than sickly promises (which commonly
In princes find both birth and burial
In one breath), we have drawn you, worthy sir,
To make your fair endearments to our daughter,
And worthy services known to our subjects,
Now loved and wondered at. Next, our intent,
To plant you deeply, our immediate heir,
Both to our blood and kingdoms. For this lady
(The best part of your life, as you confirm me,
And I believe) though her few years and sex
Yet teach her nothing but her fears and blushes,
Desires without desire, discourse and knowledge
Only of what herself is to herself,

Make her feel moderate health; and when she sleeps,

In making no ill day, knows no ill dreams.
Think not, dear sir, these undivided parts,
That must mould up a virgin, are put on
To shew her so, as borrowed ornaments,
To speak her perfect love to you, or add
An artificial shadow to her nature:
No, Sir; I boldly dare proclaim her, yet
No woman. But woo her still, and think her

A sweeter mistress than the offered language
Of any dame, were she a queen, whose eye
Speaks common loves and comforts to her servants.
Last, noble son (for so I now must call you),
What I have done thus public, is not only
To add a comfort in particular
To you or me, but all; and to confirm
The nobles, and the gentry of these kingdoms,
By oath to your succession, which shall be
Within this month at most.

Thra. This will be hardly done.
Cle. It must be ill done, if it be done.
Dion. When 'tis at best, 'twill be but
half done, whilst

So brave a gentleman's wronged, and flung

Thra. I fear.

Cle. Who does not?

Dion. I fear not for myself, and yet I

fear too.

Well, we shall see, we shall see. No more. J


Pha. Kissing your white hand, mistress, I take leave

To thank your royal father; and thus far
To be my own free trumpet. Understand,
Great king, and these your subjects, mine that
must be,

(For so deserving you have spoke me, sir,

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You in me have your wishes. Oh, this country!
By more than all my hopes I hold it happy
Happy, in their dear memories, that have been
And from you (as a chronicle to keep
Kings great and good; happy in yours, that is;
Your noble name from eating age) do I
Open myself, most happy. Gentlemen,
Believe me in a word, a prince's word,
There shall be nothing to make up a kingdom
Mighty, and flourishing, defenced, feared,
Equal to be commanded and obeyed,
But through the travels of my life I'll find it,
And tie it to this country. And I vow
My reign shall be so easy to the subject,
That every man shall be his prince himself,
And his own law (yet I his prince and law).
And, dearest lady, to your dearest self
(Dear, in the choice of him whose name and lustre
Must make you more and mightier) let me say,
You are the blessedest living; for, sweet princess,
You shall make him yours, for whom
Great queens must die.

Thra. Miraculous!

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Dion. I wonder what's his price? For certainly He'll sell himself, he has so praised his shape. But here comes one, more worthy those large speeches,

Than the large speaker of them.

Let me be swallowed quick, if I can find,
In all the anatomy of yon man's virtues,
One sinew sound enough to promise for him,
He shall be constable.

By this sun, he'll never make a king
Unless it be for trifles, in my poor judgment.
Phi. Right noble sir, as low as my obedience,
And with a heart as loyal as my knee,
I beg your favour.

King. Rise; you have it, sir.

Dion. Mark but the king, how pale he looks

with fear!

Oh! this same whorson conscience, how it jades us! King. Speak your intents, sir.

Phi. Shall I speak them freely?
Be still my royal sovereign.--
King. As a subject,

We give you freedom.
Dion. Now it heats.

Phi. Then thus I turn

My language to you, prince; you, foreign man! Ne'er stare, nor put on wonder, for you must Endure me, and you shall. This earth you tread


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my dead father (oh, I had a father,
Whose memory I bow to!) was not left
Το your inheritance, and I up and living;
Having myself about me, and my sword,
The souls of all my name, and memories,
These arms, and some few friends, besides the gods;
To part so calmly with it, and sit still,

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And say, I might have been.' I tell thee, Pha-

When thou art king, look I be dead and rotten,
And my name ashes: For, hear me, Pharamond!
This very ground, thou goest on, this fat earth,
My father's friends made fertile with their faiths,
Before that day of shame, shall gape and swallow
Thee and thy nation, like a hungry grave,
Into her hidden bowels. Prince, it shall;
By Nemesis, it shall!

Pha. He's mad; beyond cure, mad.

Dion. Here is a fellow has some fire in his veins:
The outlandish prince looks like a tooth-drawer.
Phi. Sir, prince of poppingjays, I'll make it
well appear
To you, I am not mad.

King. You displease us :
You are too bold.

Phi. No, sir, I am too tame,

Too much a turtle, a thing, born without passion,
A faint shadow, that every drunken cloud sails


And makes nothing.

King. I do not fancy this.

Call our physicians: Sure he is somewhat tainted.
Thra. I do not think 'twill prove so.

Dion. He has given him a general purge already, for all the right he has; and now he means to let him blood. Be constant, gentlemen: By these hilts, I'll run his hazard, although I run my name out of the kingdom.

Cle. Peace, we are all one soul.

Pha. What you have seen in me, to stir offence,
I cannot find; unless it be this lady,
Offered into mine arms, with the succession;
Which I must keep, though it hath pleased your

To mutiny within you; without disputing
Your genealogies, or taking knowledge
Whose branch you are. The king will leave it


And I dare make it mine. You have your answer.
Phi. If thou wert sole inheritor to him,
That made the world his, and couldst see no sun
Shine upon any thing but thine; were Pharamond
As truly valiant as I feel him cold,

And ringed among the choicest of his friends
(Such as would blush to talk such serious follies,
Or back such bellied commendations),
And from this presence, spite of all these bugs,
You should hear further from me.
King. Sir, you wrong the prince:

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You deserve our frown. Go to; be better tem-

Phi. It must be, sir, when I am nobler used.
King. Philaster, tell me

The injuries you aim at, in your riddles.

Phi. If you had my eyes, sir, and sufferance,
My griefs upon you, and my
broken fortunes,
My wants great, and now nought but hopes and

My wrongs would make ill riddles to be laughed at.
Dare you be still my king, and right me not?
King. Give me your wrongs in private.
[They whisper.

Phi. Take them,
And ease me of a load would bow strong Atlas.
Cle. He dares not stand the shock.

Dion. I cannot blame him: there's danger in't. Every man in this age has not a soul of crystal, for all men to read their actions through: Men's hearts and faces are so far asunder, that they hold no intelligence. Do but view yon stranger well, and you shall see a fever through all his bravery, and feel him shake like a true recreant. If he give not back his crown again, upon the report of an elder gun, I have no augury.

King. Go to!

Be more yourself, as you respect our favour;
You'll stir us else. Sir, I must have you know,
That you are, and shall be, at our pleasure, what
fashion we

Will put upon you. Smooth your brow, or by the

Phi. I am dead, sir; you are my fate. It was
not I

Said, I was wronged: I carry all about me,
My weak stars lead me to, all my weak fortunes.
Who dares in all this presence speak (that is
But man of flesh, and may be mortal) tell me,
I do not most entirely love this prince,
And honour his full virtues!

King. Sure, he's possessed.

Phi. Yes, with my father's spirit: It is here,
O king!

A dangerous spirit. Now he tells me, king,
I was a king's heir, bids me be a king;
And whispers to me, these are all my subjects.
'Tis strange he will not let me sleep, but dives
Into my fancy, and there gives me shapes,
That kneel, and do me service, cry me "king:"
But I'll suppress him; he's a factious spirit,
And will undo me. Noble sir, your hand :
I am your servant.

King. Away, I do not like this:
I'll make you tamer, or I'll dispossess you
Both of life and spirit: For this time

I pardon your wild speech, without so much
As your imprisonment. [Er. King, Pha. and Are.
Dion. See, how his fancy labours! Has he not
Spoke home, and bravely? What a dangerous

I gave you not this freedom to brave our best Did he give fire to! How he shook the king, friends.

Made his soul melt within him, and his blood

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