SCENE IV.

The Roman Camp before the City.

Enter MARTIUS, VALERIUS, Captains and Soldiers, with Drums and Colours at one Door; and DoRIGEN with Ladies, at another.

Dor. Hail, general of Rome! From Sophocles, That honours Martius, Dorigen presents Herself to be dishonour'd: Do thy will; For Sophocles commands me to obey. Come, violate all rules of holiness, And rend the consecrated knot of love!

Mar. Never, Valerius, was I blest till now! Behold the end of all my weary steps, The prize of all my battles. Leave us, all; Leave us as quick as thought. Thus joy begin! In zealous love a minute's loss is sin.

Val. Can Martius be so vile? or Dorigen? Dor. Stay, stay! and, monster, keep thou further off!

I thought thy brave soul would have much, much loath'd

To have gone on still on such terms as this.
See, thou ungrateful, since thy desperate lust
Nothing can cure but death, I'll die for thee,
While my chaste name lives to posterity.

[Offers to kill herself. Mar. [Kneels.] Live, live, (thou angel of thy sex, forgive!)

Till by those golden tresses thou be'st snatch'd

Alive to Heaven; for thy corruption's

So little, that it cannot suffer death.

Was ever such a woman? Oh, my mirror !
How perfectly thou shew'st me all my faults,
Which now I hate; and when I next attempt thee,
Let all the fires in the zodiac

Drop on this cursed head!

All. Oh, bless'd event!

Dor. Rise like the sun again in all his glory, After a dark eclipse!

Mar. Never, without a pardon.

Enter SOPHOCLES, and two or three with him.

Dor. Sir, you have forgiven yourself.

Soph. Behold their impudence! are my words just?

Unthankful man, viper to arms, and Rome
Thy natural mother! have I warm'd thee here
To corrode even my heart? Martius, prepare
To kill me, or be kill'd.

Mar. Why, Sophocles,

Then pr'ythee kill me; I deserve it highly;
For I have both transgress'd 'gainst men and gods;
But am repentant now, and in best case

To uncase my soul of this oppressing flesh;
Which, though (gods witness) ne'er was actually
Injurious to thy wife and thee, yet 'twas

Her goodness that restrained and held me now:
But take my life, dear friend, for my intent,
Or else forgive it!

Val. By the gods of Athens,

These words are true, and all direct again.
Soph. Pardon me, Dorigen!

Mar. Forgive me, Sophocles,

And Dorigen too, and every one that's good!

Dor. Rise, noble Roman.-Beloved Sophocles,

Take to thy breast thy friend!

Mar. And to thy heart

Thy matchless wife! Heaven has not stuff enough To make another such; for if it could,

Martius would marry too. For thy blest sake,
(Oh, thou infinity of excellence)

Henceforth in men's discourse Rome shall not take
The wall of Athens, as 'to-fore. But when
In their fair honours we to speak do come,
We'll say 'twas so in Athens and in Rome.
[Exeunt in pomp.

DIANA descends.

Diana. Honour, set ope thy gates, and with thee bring

My servant and thy friend, fair Dorigen;
Let her triumph with him, her lord and friend,
Who, though misled, still honour was their end!
[Flourish.

Enter the show of Honour's Triumph; a great flourish of Trumpets and Drums within; then enter a noise" of Trumpets sounding cheerfully; then follows an armed Knight bearing a Crimson Banneret in hand, with the inscription Valour; by his side a Lady bearing a Watchet Banneret, the inscription Clemency; next, MARTIUS and SOPHOCLES with Coronets; next, two Ladies, one bearing a White Banneret, the inscription Chastity; the other a Black, the inscription Constancy; then DORIGEN crowned; last, a Chariot drawn by two Moors, in

• With her.] Corrected silently by Seward.

1 A noise of trumpets.] i. e. A concert of trumpets. See Wit at Several Weapons, vol. X.-Ed. 1778.

it a Person crowned, with a Sceptre; on the top, in an antic Escutcheon, is written Honour. As they pass over, DIANA ascends.

Rin. How like you it?

Fri. Rarely; so well, I would they would do it again! How many of our wives now-a-days would deserve to triumph in such a chariot ?

Rin. That's all one; you see they triumph in

caroches.

Fri. That they do, by the mass; but not all neither; many of them are content with carts. But, signor, I have now found out a great absurdity, i'faith.

Rin. What was't?

Fri. The prologue, presenting four Triumphs, made but three legs to the king: A three-legg'd prologue! 'Twas monstrous.

Rin. 'T had been more monstrous to have had a four-legg❜d one. Peace! the king speaks. Eman. Here was a woman, Isabel!

Isab. Ay, my lord,

But that she told a lie to vex her husband;
Therein she fail'd.

Eman. She served him well enough;

He that was so much man, yet would be cast
To jealousy for her integrity.

2 Three legs.] i. e. Three bows. See The Queen of Corinth, vol. X.-Ed. 1778.

This teacheth us, the passion of love

Can fight with soldiers, and with scholars too. Isab. In Martius, clemency and valour shewn, In the other, courage and humanity;

And therefore in the Triumph they were usher'd By Clemency and Valour.

Eman. Rightly observed;

As she by Chastity and Constancy.

What hurt's now in a play, 'gainst which some rail
So vehemently?' thou and I, my love,

Make excellent use, methinks: I learn to be
A lawful lover void of jealousy,

And thou a constant wife. Sweet poetry's
A flower, where men, like bees and spiders, may
Bear poison, or else sweets and wax away.
Be venom-drawing spiders they that will!
I'll be the bee, and suck the honey still. [Flourish.

Cupid descends.

Cupid. Stay, clouds! ye rack too fast. Bright
Phabus, see,

Honour has triumph'd with fair Chastity:
Give Love now leave, in purity to shew
Unchaste affections fly not from his bow.
Produce the sweet example of your youth,
Whilst I provide a Triumph for your truth.
[Flourish.

3 What hurt's now in a play, against which some rail

So vehemently.] In allusion to the puritans, who preached and wrote in the most venomous and inflammatory terms against the wickedness of stage-playing. See The Woman's Prize, vol. V. p. 330.

4

• Stay, clouds! ye rack too fast.] See vol. IV. p. 131.