Bass. The floor is matted;

The bed-posts sure are steel or marble.-Soldiers
Should not affect, methinks, strains so effeminate;
Sounds of such delicacy are but fawnings

Upon the sloth of luxury, they heighten
Cinders of covert lust up to a flame.

Grau. What do you mean, my lord?-speak low; that gabbling

Of your's will but undo us.

Bass. Chamber-combats

Are felt, not heard.

Pro. (within) He wakes.
Bass. What's that?

Ith. (within) Who's there?
Sister?-All quit the room else.
Bass. 'Tis consented!

Enter PROPHILUS.

Pro. Lord Bassanes, your brother would be private,

We must forbear; his sleep hath newly left him. Please you, withdraw!

Bass. By any means; 'tis fit.

Pro. Pray, gentlewoman, walk too.

Grau., Yes, I will, sir.

[Exeunt.

The Scene opens; ITHOCLES is discovered in a Chair, and PENTHEA beside him.

Ith. Sit nearer, sister, to me; nearer yet: We had one father, in one womb took life,

Were brought up twins together, yet have liv'd

At distance, like two strangers; I could wish
That the first pillow whereon I was cradled,
Had prov'd to me a grave.

Pen. You had been happy :

Then had you never known that sin of life

Which blots all following glories with a vengeance,

For forfeiting the last will of the dead,
From whom you had your being.

Ith. Sad Penthea,

Thou canst not be too cruel; my rash spleen

Hath with a violent hand pluck'd from thy bosom

A love-blest heart, to grind it into dust;

For which mine's now a-breaking.

Pen. Not yet, heaven,

I do beseech thee! first, let some wild fires
Scorch, not consume it! may the heat be cherish'd
With desires infinite, but hopes impossible!
Ith. Wrong'd soul, thy prayers are heard.
Pen. Here, lo, I breathe,

A miserable creature, led to ruin
By an unnatural brother!

Ith. I consume

In languishing affections for that trespass;
Yet cannot die.

Pen. The handmaid to the wages

Of country toil, drinks the untroubled streams*

the handmaid to the wages

Of country toil, drinks the untroubled streams] There is a slight confusion in the old copy, arising from one of the words being shuffled out of its place; it reads:

the handinaid to the wages

The untroubled of country toil, drinks streams.

With leaping kids, and with the bleating lambs, And so allays her thirst secure; whilst I Quench my hot sighs with fleetings of my tears.

Ith. The labourer doth eat his coarsest bread, Earn'd with his sweat, and lays him down to sleep;

While every bit I touch turns in digestion

To gall, as bitter as Penthea's curse.

Put me to any penance for my tyranny;
And I will call thee merciful.

Pen. Pray kill me,

Rid me from living with a jealous husband;
Then we will join in friendship, be again
Brother and sister.-Kill me, pray; nay, will
you?

Ith. How does thy lord esteem thee?
Pen. Such an one

As only you have made me; a faith-breaker,
A spotted whore;-forgive me, I am one-
In act, not in desires, the gods must witness.
Ith. Thou dost bely thy friend.

Pen. I do not, Ithocles;

For she that's wife to Orgilus, and lives
In known adultery with Bassanes,

Is, at the best, a whore. Wilt kill me now?
The ashes of our parents will assume

Some dreadful figure, and appear to charge
Thy bloody guilt, that hast betray'd their name
To infamy, in this reproachful match.

Ith. After my victories abroad, at home
I meet despair; ingratitude of nature

Hath made my actions monstrous: thou shalt stand

A deity, my sister, and be worshipp'd

For thy resolved martyrdom; wrong'd maids
And married wives shall to thy hallow'd shrine
Offer their orisons, and sacrifice

Pure turtles, crown'd with myrtle; if thy pity
Unto a yielding brother's pressure, lend
One finger but to ease it.

Pen. Oh, no more!

: Ith. Death waits to waft me to the Stygian banks,

And free me from this chaos of my bondage;
And till thou wilt forgive, I must endure.
Pen. Who is the saint you serve?
Ith. Friendship, or [nearness']

Of birth to any but my sister, durst not
Have mov'd this question; 'tis a secret, sister,
I dare not murmur to myself.

Pen. Let me,

By your new protestations I conjure you,

Partake her name.

Ith. Her name ?-'tis,-'tis-I dare not.
Pen. All your respects are forged.

Ith. They are not.-Peace!

Calantha is the princess-the king's daughterSole heir of Sparta.-Me, most miserable!

5 Friendship, or [nearness]

Of birth, &c.] A word has been dropt here, and I have taken that which has been suggested, though doubtful of its genuineness; the pointing too seems defective. Ithocles appears to allude to Prophilus, in the first instance. In the next line, for " as a secret," I read, with more confidence, 'tis a secret.

Do I now love thee? for my injuries
Revenge thyself with bravery, and gossip
My treasons to the king's ears, do;-Calantha
Knows it not yet, nor Prophilus, my nearest.
Pen. Suppose you were contracted to her, would
it not

Split even your very soul to see her father
Snatch her out of your arms against her will,
And force her on the prince of Argos?

Ith. Trouble not

The fountains of mine eyes with thine own story; I sweat in blood for't.

Pen. We are reconciled.

Alas, sir, being children, but two branches
Of one stock, 'tis not fit we should divide;
Have comfort, you may find it.

Ith. Yes, in thee;

Only in thee, Penthea mine.

Pen. If sorrows

Have not too much dull'd my infected brain,
I'll cheer invention, for an active strain.

Ith. Mad man!-Why have I wrong'd a maid so excellent?

BASSANES rushes in with a Poniard, followed by Prophilus, Groneas, Hemophil, and GRAUSIS.

Bass. I can forbear no longer; more, I will not: Keep off your hands, or fall upon my point.Patience is tired,-for, like a slow-paced ass, You ride my easy nature, and proclaim

My sloth to vengeance a reproach, and property.