Kitabı oku: «The Maids Tragedy», sayfa 5

Yazı tipi:

Cal. If I should tell the King, can'st thou deny't again?

Mel. Try and believe.

Cal. Nay then, thou can'st bring any thing about: Thou shalt have the Fort.

Mel. Why well, here let our hate be buried, and This hand shall right us both; give me thy aged breast to compass.

Cal. Nay, I do not love thee yet:
                   I cannot well endure to look on thee:
                  And if I thought it were a courtesie,
                  Thou should'st not have it: but I am disgrac'd;
                  My Offices are to be ta'ne away;
                  And if I did but hold this Fort a day,
                  I do believe the King would take it from me,
                  And give it thee, things are so strangely carried;
                  Nere thank me for't; but yet the King shall know
                  There was some such thing in't I told him of;
                  And that I was an honest man.

Mel. Hee'l buy that knowledge very dearly.

[Enter Diphilus.

What news with thee?

Diph. This were a night indeed to do it in; The King hath sent for her.

Mel. She shall perform it then; go Diphilus, And take from this good man, my worthy friend, The Fort; he'l give it thee.

Diph. Ha' you got that?

Cal. Art thou of the same breed? canst thou deny This to the King too?

Diph. With a confidence as great as his.

Cal. Faith, like enough.

Mel. Away, and use him kindly.

Cal. Touch not me, I hate the whole strain: if thou follow me a great way off, I'le give thee up the Fort; and hang your selves.

Mel. Be gone.

Diph. He's finely wrought.

[Exeunt Cal. Diph.

Mel. This is a night in spite of Astronomers To do the deed in; I will wash the stain That rests upon our House, off with his blood.

Enter Amintor.

Amin. Melantius, now assist me if thou beest That which thou say'st, assist me: I have lost All my distempers, and have found a rage so pleasing; help me.

Mel. Who can see him thus, And not swear vengeance? what's the matter friend?

Amin. Out with thy sword; and hand in hand with me Rush to the Chamber of this hated King, And sink him with the weight of all his sins to hell for ever.

Mel. 'Twere a rash attempt,
                  Not to be done with safety: let your reason
                  Plot your revenge, and not your passion.

Amint. If thou refusest me in these extreams,
                   Thou art no friend: he sent for her to me;
                   By Heaven to me; my self; and I must tell ye
                   I love her as a stranger; there is worth
                   In that vile woman, worthy things, Melantius;
                   And she repents. I'le do't my self alone,
                   Though I be slain. Farewell.

Mel. He'l overthrow my whole design with madness:
                  Amintor, think what thou doest; I dare as much as
                  valour;
                  But 'tis the King, the King, the King, Amintor,
                  With whom thou fightest; I know he's honest,

[Aside.

And this will work with him.

Amint. I cannot tell What thou hast said; but thou hast charm'd my sword Out of my hand, and left me shaking here defenceless.

Mel. I will take it up for thee.

Amint. What a wild beast is uncollected man! The thing that we call Honour, bears us all Headlong unto sin, and yet it self is nothing.

Mel. Alas, how variable are thy thoughts!

Amint. Just like my fortunes: I was run to that
                  I purpos'd to have chid thee for.
                  Some Plot I did distrust thou hadst against the King
                  By that old fellows carriage: but take heed,
                  There is not the least limb growing to a King,
                  But carries thunder in it.

Mel. I have none against him.

Amint. Why, come then, and still remember we may not think revenge.

Mel. I will remember.

Actus Quintus

Enter Evadne and a Gentleman.

Evad. Sir, is the King abed?

Gent. Madam, an hour ago.

Evad. Give me the key then, and let none be near;
                   'Tis the Kings pleasure.

Gent. I understand you Madam, would 'twere mine.
                   I must not wish good rest unto your Ladiship.

Evad. You talk, you talk.

Gent. 'Tis all I dare do, Madam; but the King will wake, and then.

Evad. Saving your imagination, pray good night Sir.

Gent. A good night be it then, and a long one Madam;
                  I am gone.

Evad. The night grows horrible, and all about me
                   Like my black purpose: O the Conscience
                                                            [King abed.
                   Of a lost Virgin; whither wilt thou pull me?
                   To what things dismal, as the depth of Hell,
                   Wilt thou provoke me? Let no [woman] dare
                   From this hour be disloyal: if her heart
                   Be flesh, if she have blood, and can fear, 'tis a daring
                   Above that desperate fool that left his peace,
                   And went to Sea to fight: 'tis so many sins
                   An age cannot prevent 'em: and so great,
                   The gods want mercy for: yet I must through 'em.
                   I have begun a slaughter on my honour,
                   And I must end it there: he sleeps, good heavens!
                   Why give you peace to this untemperate beast
                   That hath so long transgressed you? I must kill him,
                   And I will do't bravely: the meer joy
                   Tells me I merit in it: yet I must not
                   Thus tamely do it as he sleeps: that were
                   To rock him to another world: my vengeance
                   Shall take him waking, and then lay before him
                   The number of his wrongs and punishments.
                   I'le shake his sins like furies, till I waken
                   His evil Angel, his sick Conscience:
                   And then I'le strike him dead: King, by your leave:

[Ties his armes to the bed.

                   I dare not trust your strength: your Grace and I
                   Must grapple upon even terms no more:
                   So, if he rail me not from my resolution,
                   I shall be strong enough.
                   My Lord the King, my Lord; he sleeps
                   As if he meant to wake no more, my Lord;
                   Is he not dead already? Sir, my Lord.

King. Who's that?

Evad. O you sleep soundly Sir!

King. My dear Evadne, I have been dreaming of thee; come to bed.

Evad. I am come at length Sir, but how welcome?

King. What pretty new device is this Evadne?
                  What do you tie me to you by my love?
                  This is a quaint one: Come my dear and kiss me;
                  I'le be thy Mars to bed my Queen of Love:
                  Let us be caught together, that the Gods may see,
                  And envy our embraces.

Evad. Stay Sir, stay,
                   You are too hot, and I have brought you Physick
                   To temper your high veins.

King. Prethee to bed then; let me take it warm,
                   There you shall know the state of my body better.

Evad. I know you have a surfeited foul body,
                  And you must bleed.

King. Bleed!

Evad. I, you shall bleed: lie still, and if the Devil,
                 Your lust will give you leave, repent: this steel
                 Comes to redeem the honour that you stole,
                 King, my fair name, which nothing but thy death
                 Can answer to the world.

King. How's this Evadne?

Evad. I am not she: nor bear I in this breast
                  So much cold Spirit to be call'd a Woman:
                  I am a Tyger: I am any thing
                  That knows not pity: stir not, if thou dost,
                  I'le take thee unprepar'd; thy fears upon thee,
                  That make thy sins look double, and so send thee
                  (By my revenge I will) to look those torments
                  Prepar'd for such black souls.

King. Thou dost not mean this: 'tis impossible:
                  Thou art too sweet and gentle.

Evad. No, I am not:
                  I am as foul as thou art, and can number
                  As many such hells here: I was once fair,
                  Once I was lovely, not a blowing Rose
                  More chastly sweet, till tho[u], thou, thou, foul
                  Canker,
                  (Stir not) didst poyson me: I was a world of vertue,
                  Till your curst Court and you (hell bless you for't)
                  With your temptations on temptations
                  Made me give up mine honour; for which (King)
                  I am come to kill thee.

King. No.

Evad. I am.

King. Thou art not.
                  I prethee speak not these things; thou art gentle,
                  And wert not meant thus rugged.

Evad. Peace and hear me.
                  Stir nothing but your tongue, and that for mercy
                  To those above us; by whose lights I vow,
                  Those blessed fires that shot to see our sin,
                  If thy hot soul had substance with thy blood,
                  I would kill that too, which being past my steel,
                  My tongue shall teach: Thou art a shameless Villain,
                  A thing out of the overchange of Nature;
                  Sent like a thick cloud to disperse a plague
                  Upon weak catching women; such a tyrant
                  That for his Lust would sell away his Subjects,
                  I, all his heaven hereafter.

King. Hear Evadne,
                  Thou soul of sweetness! hear, I am thy King.

Evad. Thou art my shame; lie still, there's none about you,
                  Within your cries; all promises of safety
                  Are but deluding dreams: thus, thus, thou foul man,
                  Thus I begin my vengeance.

[Stabs him.

King. Hold Evadne! I do command thee hold.

Evad. I do not mean Sir, To part so fairly with you; we must change More of these love-tricks yet.

King. What bloody villain Provok't thee to this murther?

Evad. Thou, thou monster.

King. Oh!

Evad. Thou kept'st me brave at Court, and Whor'd me; Then married me to a young noble Gentleman; And Whor'd me still.

King. Evadne, pity me.

Evad. Hell take me then; this for my Lord Amintor; This for my noble brother: and this stroke For the most wrong'd of women.

[Kills him.

King. Oh! I die.

Evad. Die all our faults together; I forgive thee.

[Exit.
Enter two of the Bed-Chamber.

1. Come now she's gone, let's enter, the King expects

it, and will be angry.

2. 'Tis a fine wench, we'I have a snap at her one of these

nights as she goes from him.

1. Content: how quickly he had done with her! I see

Kings can do no more that way than other mortal people.

2. How fast he is! I cannot hear him breathe.

1. Either the Tapers give a feeble light, or he looks very pale.

2. And so he does, pray Heaven he be well. Let's look: Alas! he's stiffe, wounded and dead: Treason, Treason!

1. Run forth and call.

[Exit Gent.

2. Treason, Treason!

1. This will be laid on us: who can believe A Woman could do this?

Enter Cleon and Lisippus.

Cleon. How now, where's the Traytor?

1. Fled, fled away; but there her woful act lies still.

Cle. Her act! a Woman!

Lis. Where's the body?

1. There.

Lis. Farewel thou worthy man; there were two bonds
                  That tyed our loves, a Brother and a King;
                  The least of which might fetch a flood of tears:
                  But such the misery of greatness is,
                  They have no time to mourn; then pardon me.
                  Sirs, which way went she?

[Enter Strato.

Strat. Never follow her,
                  For she alas! was but the instrument.
                  News is now brought in, that Melantius
                  Has got the Fort, and stands upon the wall;
                  And with a loud voice calls those few that pass
                  At this dead time of night, delivering
                  The innocent of this act.

Lis. Gentlemen, I am your King.

Strat. We do acknowledge it.

Lis. I would I were not: follow all; for this must have a sudden stop.

[Exeunt
Enter Melant. Diph. and Cal. on the wall.

Mel. If the dull people can believe I am arm'd,
                  Be constant Diphilus; now we have time,
                  Either to bring our banisht honours home,
                  Or create new ones in our ends.

Diph. I fear not;
                 My spirit lies not that way. Courage Calianax.

Cal. Would I had any, you should quickly know it.

Mel. Speak to the people; thou art eloquent.

Cal. 'Tis a fine eloquence to come to the gallows;
                  You were born to be my end; the Devil take you.
                  Now must I hang for company; 'tis strange
                  I should be old, and neither wise nor valiant.

Enter Lisip. Diag. Cleon, Strat. Guard.

Lisip. See where he stands as boldly confident,
                  As if he had his full command about him.

Strat. He looks as if he had the bet[t]er cause; Sir,
                  Under your gracious pardon let me speak it;
                  Though he be mighty-spirited and forward
                  To all great things; to all things of that danger
                  Worse men shake at the telling of; yet certainly
                  I do believe him noble, and this action
                  Rather pull'd on than sought; his mind was ever
                  As worthy as his hand.

Lis. 'Tis my fear too;
                 Heaven forgive all: summon him Lord Cleon.

Cleon. Ho from the walls there.

Mel. Worthy Cleon, welcome;
                 We could have wisht you here Lord; you are honest.

Cal. Well, thou art as flattering a knave, though I dare not tell you so.

[Aside.

Lis. Melantius!

Mel. Sir.

Lis. I am sorry that we meet thus; our old love
                  Never requir'd such distance; pray Heaven
                  You have not left your self, and sought this safety
                  More out of fear than honour; you have lost
                  A noble Master, which your faith Melantius,
                  Some think might have preserv'd; yet you know best.

Cal. When time was I was mad; some that dares
                  Fight I hope will pay this Rascal.

Mel. Royal young man, whose tears look lovely on thee;
                  Had they been shed for a deserving one,
                  They had been lasting monuments. Thy Brother,
                  Whil'st he was good, I call'd him King, and serv'd him
                  With that strong faith, that most unwearied valour;
                  Pul'd people from the farthest Sun to seek him;
                  And by his friendship, I was then his souldier;
                  But since his hot pride drew him to disgrace me,
                  And brand my noble actions with his lust,
                  (That never cur'd dishonour of my Sister,
                  Base stain of Whore; and which is worse,
                  The joy to make it still so) like my self;
                  Thus have I flung him off with my allegiance,
                  And stand here mine own justice to revenge
                  What I have suffered in him; and this old man
                  Wrong'd almost to lunacy.

Cal. Who I? you'd draw me in: I have had no wrong,
                  I do disclaim ye all.

Mel. The short is this;
                  'Tis no ambition to lift up my self,
                  Urgeth me thus; I do desire again
                  To be a subject, so I may be freed;
                  If not, I know my strength, and will unbuild
                  This goodly Town; be speedy, and be wise, in a reply.

Strat. Be sudden Sir to tie
                  All again; what's done is past recal,
                  And past you to revenge; and there are thousands
                  That wait for such a troubled hour as this;
                  Throw him the blank.

Lis. Melantius, write in that thy choice,
                  My Seal is at it.

Mel. It was our honour drew us to this act,
                  Not gain; and we will only work our pardon.

Cal. Put my name in too.

Diph. You disclaim'd us but now, Calianax.

Cal. That's all one;
                  I'le not be hanged hereafter by a trick;
                  I'le have it in.

Mel. You shall, you shall;
                  Come to the back gate, and we'l call you King,
                  And give you up the Fort.

Lis. Away, away.

[Exeunt Omnes.
Enter Aspatia in mans apparel.

Asp. This is my fatal hour; heaven may forgive
                 My rash attempt, that causelesly hath laid
                 Griefs on me that will never let me rest:
                 And put a Womans heart into my brest;
                 It is more honour for you that I die;
                 For she that can endure the misery
                 That I have on me, and be patient too,
                 May live, and laugh at all that you can do.
                 God save you Sir.

[Enter Servant.

Ser. And you Sir; what's your business?

Asp. With you Sir now, to do me the Office To help me to you[r] Lord.

Ser. What, would you serve him?

Asp. I'le do him any service; but to haste, For my affairs are earnest, I desire to speak with him.

Ser. Sir, because you are in such haste, I would be loth delay you any longer: you cannot.

Asp. It shall become you tho' to tell your Lord.

Ser. Sir, he will speak with no body.

Asp. This is most strange: art thou gold proof? there's for thee; help me to him.

Ser. Pray be not angry Sir, I'le do my best.

[Exit.

Asp. How stubbornly this fellow answer'd me!
                 There is a vile dishonest trick in man,
                 More than in women: all the men I meet
                 Appear thus to me, are harsh and rude,
                 And have a subtilty in every thing,
                 Which love could never know; but we fond women
                 Harbor the easiest and smoothest thoughts,
                 And think all shall go so; it is unjust
                 That men and women should be matcht together.

Enter Amintor and his man.

Amint. Where is he!

Ser. There my Lord.

Amint. What would you Sir?

Asp. Please it your Lordship to command your man Out of the room; shall deliver things Worthy your hearing.

Amint. Leave us.

Asp. O that that shape should bury falshood in it.

[Aside.

Amint. Now your will Sir.

Asp. When you know me, my Lord, you needs must guess
                  My business! and I am not hard to know;
                  For till the change of War mark'd this smooth face
                  With these few blemishes people would call me
                  My Sisters Picture, and her mine; in short,
                  I am the brother to the wrong'd Aspatia.

Amint. The wrong'd Aspatia! would thou wert so too
                  Unto the wrong'd Amintor; let me kiss
                  That hand of thine in honour that I bear
                  Unto the wrong'd Aspatia: here I stand
                  That did it; would he could not; gentle youth
                  Leave me, for there is something in thy looks
                  That calls my sins in a most hideous form
                  Into my mind; and I have grief enough
                  Without thy help.

Asp. I would I could with credit:
                  Since I was twelve years old I had not seen
                  My Sister till this hour; I now arriv'd;
                  She sent for me to see her Marriage,
                  A woful one: but they that are above,
                  Have ends in every thing; she us'd few words,
                  But yet enough to make me understand
                  The baseness of the injury you did her.
                  That little training I have had is War;
                   I may behave my self rudely in Peace;
                   I would not though; I shall not need to tell you
                   I am but young; and you would be loth to lose
                  Honour that is not easily gain'd again.
                  Fairly I mean to deal; the age is strict
                  For single combats, and we shall be stopt
                  If it be publish't: if you like your sword,
                  Use it; if mine appear a better to you,
                  Change; for the ground is this, and this the time
                  To end our difference.

Amint. Charitable youth,
                  If thou be'st such, think not I will maintain
                  So strange a wrong; and for thy Sisters sake,
                  Know that I could not think that desperate thing
                  I durst not do; yet to enjoy this world
                  I would not see her; for beholding thee,
                  I am I know not what; if I have ought
                  That may content thee, take it and be gone;
                  For death is not so terrible as thou;
                  Thine eyes shoot guilt into me.

Asp. Thus she swore
                  Thou would'st behave thy self, and give me words
                  That would fetch tears into mine eyes, and so
                  Thou dost indeed; but yet she bade me watch,
                  Lest I were cousen'd, and be sure to fight ere I
                  return'd.

Amint. That must not be with me;
                  For her I'le die directly, but against her will never
                  hazard it.

Asp. You must be urg'd; I do not deal uncivilly with those that
                  Dare to fight; but such a one as you
                  Must be us'd thus.

[She strikes him.

Amint. Prethee youth take heed; Thy Sister is a thing to me so much Above mine honour, that I can endu[r]e All this; good gods—a blow I can endure; But stay not, lest thou draw a timely death upon thy self.

Asp. Thou art some prating fellow, One that hath studyed out a trick to talk And move soft-hearted people; to be kickt,

[She kicks him.

                  Thus to be kickt—why should he be so slow
                                                            [Aside.
                  In giving me my death?

Amint. A man can bear
                  No more and keep his flesh; forgive me then;
                   I would endure yet if I could; now shew
                  The spirit thou pretendest, and understand
                  Thou hast no honour to live:

[They fight.

                  What dost thou mean? thou canst not fight:
                  The blows thou mak'st at me are quite besides;
                  And those I offer at thee, thou spread'st thine arms,
                  And tak'st upon thy breast, Alas! defenceless.

Asp. I have got enough, And my desire; there's no place so fit for me to die as here.

Enter Evadne.

Evad. Amintor; I am loaden with events That flie to make thee happy; I have joyes

[Her hands bloody with a knife.

                 That in a moment can call back thy wrongs,
                 And settle thee in thy free state again;
                 It is Evadne still that follows thee, but not her
                 mischiefs.

Amint. Thou canst not fool me to believe agen;
                 But thou hast looks and things so full of news that
                 I am staid.

Evad. Noble Amintor, put off thy amaze;
                  Let thine eyes loose, and speak, am I not fair?
                  Looks not Evadne beauteous with these rites now?
                  Were those hours half so lovely in thine eyes,
                  When our hands met before the holy man?
                  I was too foul within to look fair then;
                  Since I knew ill, I was not free till now.

Amint. There is presage of some important thing
                  About thee, which it seems thy tongue hath lost:
                  Thy hands are bloody, and thou hast a knife.

Evad. In this consists thy happiness and mine;
                 Joy to Amintor, for the King is dead.

Amint. Those have most power to hurt us that we love,
                  We lay our sleeping lives within their arms.
                  Why, thou hast rais'd up mischief to this height,
                  And found out one to out-name thy other faults;
                  Thou hast no intermission of thy sins,
                  But all thy life is a continual ill;
                  Black is thy colour now, disease thy nature.
                  Joy to Amintor! thou hast toucht a life,
                  The very name of which had power to chain
                  Up all my rage, and calm my wildest wrongs.

Evad. 'Tis done; and since I could not find a way
                  To meet thy love so clear, as through his life,
                  I cannot now repent it.

Amint. Could'st thou procure the Gods to speak to me,
                  To bid me love this woman, and forgive,
                  I think I should fall out with them; behold
                  Here lies a youth whose wounds bleed in my brest,
                  Sent by his violent Fate to fetch his death
                  From my slow hand: and to augment my woe,
                  You now are present stain'd with a Kings blood
                  Violently shed: this keeps night here,
                  And throws an unknown wilderness about me.

Asp. Oh, oh, oh!

Amint. No more, pursue me not.

Evad. Forgive me then, and take me to thy bed. We may not part.

Amint. Forbear, be wise, and let my rage go this way.

Evad. 'Tis you that I would stay, not it.

Amint. Take heed, it will return with me.

Evad. If it must be, I shall not fear to meet it; take me home.

Amint. Thou monster of cruelty, forbear.

Evad. For heavens sake look more calm; Thine eyes are sharper than thou canst make thy sword.

Amint. Away, away, thy knees are more to me than violence.
                  I am worse than sick to see knees follow me
                  For that I must not grant; for heavens sake stand.

Evad. Receive me then.Amint. I dare not stay thy language;
                  In midst of all my anger and my grief,
                  Thou dost awake something that troubles me,
                  And sayes I lov'd thee once; I dare not stay;
                  There is no end of womens reasoning.

[Leaves her.

Evad. Amintor, thou shalt love me once again; Go, I am calm; farewell; and peace for ever. Evadne whom thou hat'st will die for thee.

[Kills her self.

Amint. I have a little humane nature yet
                  That's left for thee, that bids me stay thy hand.
                                                           [Returns.

Evad. Thy hand was welcome, but came too late;
                  Oh I am lost! the heavy sleep makes haste.

[She dies.

Asp. Oh, oh, oh!

Amint. This earth of mine doth tremble, and I feel
                  A stark affrighted motion in my blood;
                  My soul grows weary of her house, and I
                  All over am a trouble to my self;
                  There is some hidden power in these dead things
                  That calls my flesh into'em; I am cold;
                  Be resolute, and bear'em 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 done;
                  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 a fault to answer,
                  Though she may justly arm 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.

Asp. Was it a dream? there stands Amintor still:
                  Or I dream still.

Amint. How dost thou? speak, receive my love, and help:
                  Thy blood climbs up to his old place again:
                  There's hope of thy recovery.

Asp. Did you not name Aspatia?

Amint. I did.

Asp. And talkt of tears and sorrow unto her?

Amint. 'Tis true, and till these happy signs in thee
                  Did stay my course, 'twas thither I was going.

Asp. Th'art there already, and these wounds are hers:
                  Those threats I brought with me, sought not revenge,
                  But came to fetch this blessing from thy hand,
                   I am Aspatia yet.

Amint. Dare my soul ever look abroad agen?

Asp. I shall live Amintor; I am well:
                  A kind of healthful joy wanders within me.

Amint. The world wants lines 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: would'st thou have loved me then?

Amint. Alas! all that I am's not worth a hair from thee.

Asp. Give me thy hand, mine hands grope up and down,
                 And cannot find thee; I am wondrous sick:
                 Have I thy hand Amintor?

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

Asp. I do believe thee better than my sense.
                 Oh! I must go, farewell.

Amint. She swounds: Aspatia help, for Heavens sake water;
                  Such as may chain life for ever to this frame.
                  Aspatia, speak: what no help? yet I fool,
                  I'le chafe her temples, yet there's nothing stirs;
                  Some hidden Power tell her that Amintor calls,
                  And let her answer me: Aspatia, speak.
                  I have heard, if there be life, but bow
                  The body thus, and it will shew it self.
                  Oh she is gone! I will not leave her yet.
                  Since out of justice we must challenge nothing;
                  I'le call it mercy if you'l pity me,
                  You heavenly powers, and lend for some few years,
                  The blessed soul to this fair seat agen.
                  No comfort comes, the gods deny me too.
                   I'le bow the body once agen: Aspatia!
                  The soul is fled for ever, and I wrong
                  My self, so long to lose her company.
                  Must I talk now? Here's to be with thee love.

[Kills himself.
Enter Servant.

Ser. This is a great grace to my Lord, to have the new King come to him; I must tell him, he is entring. O Heaven help, help;

Enter Lysip. Melant. Cal. Cleon, Diph. Strato.

Lys. Where's Amintor?

Strat. O there, there.

Lys. How strange is this!

Cal. What should we do here?

Mel. These deaths are such acquainted things with me,
                 That yet my heart dissolves not. May I stand
                 Stiff here for ever; eyes, call up your tears;
                 This is Amintor: heart he was my friend;
                 Melt, now it flows; Amintor, give a word
                 To call me to thee.

Amint. Oh!