Jacin. Say this were done by him that carried
The fairest seeming face of friendship to yourself.
Jul. We should fall out.

Jacin. Would you in such a case respect degrees?
Jul. I know not that.

Jacin. Say he were noble.

Jul. Impossible: th' act's ignoble.

The Bee can breed

No poison, though it suck the juice of hemlock.

Jacin. Say a king should do it; were the act less done, By the greater power? does majesty

Extenuate a crime?

Jul. Augment it rather.

Jacin. Say then that Roderick, your king and master, To quit the honors you are bringing home, Had ravish'd your Jacinta.

Jul. Who has sent

A Fury in this foul-fair shape to vex me?

I ha' seen that face methinks yet know it not:

How darest thou speak this treason 'gainst my king?
Durst any man in the world bring me this lye,

By this, he had been in hell: Roderick a Tarquin!
Jacin. Yes, and thy daughter (had she done her
part)

Should be the second Lucrece. View me well:
I am Jacinta.

Jul. Ha!

Jacin. The king my ravisher.

Jul. The king thy ravisher! oh unkingly sound. He dares not sure; yet in thy sullied eyes

I read a tragic story.

Antonio, Alonzo, and other Officers, enter.

Jul. O noble friends,

Our wars are ended, are they not?,

All. They are, Sir.

Jul. But Spain has now begun a civil war,

And to confound me only. See you my daughter?

She sounds the trumpet which draws forth my sword
To be reveng'd.

Alon. On whom? speak loud your wrongs;
Digest your choler into temperance;
Give your considerate thoughts the upper hand
In your hot passions, 'twill assuage the swelling
Of your big heart: if you have injuries done
Revenge them, and we second you.

Jacin. Father, dear father.

Jul. Daughter, dear daughter.

Jacin. Why do you kneel to me, Sir?

you,

Jul. To ask thee pardon that I did beget thee. I brought thee to a shame, stains all the way "Twixt earth and Acheron: not all the clouds (The skies' large canopy) could they drown the

seas

With a perpetual inundation,

Can wash it ever out: leave me, I pray.

[Falls down:

Alon. His fighting passions will be o'er anon,

And all will be at peace.

Ant. Best in my judgment

We wake him with the sight of his won honors.
Call up the army, and let them present

His prisoners to him; such a sight as that

Will brook no sorrow near it.

Jul. 'Twas a good doctor that prescribed that physic.

I'll be your patient, Sir; shew me my soldiers,
And my new honors won: I will truly weigh them
With my full griefs, they may perhaps o'ercome.
Alon. Why, now there's hope of his recovery.
Jul. Jacinta welcome, thou art my child still:
No forced stain of lust can alienate

Our consanguinity.

Jacin. Dear father,

Recollect your noble spirits; conquer grief,

The

The manly way you have brave foes subdued,
Then let no female passions thus o'erwhelm you.
Jul. Mistake me not, my child, I am not mad,
Nor must be idle; for it were more fit
(If I could purchase more) I had more wit,
To help in these designs: I am grown old:
Yet I have found more strength within this arm,
Than (without proof) I durst ha' boasted on.
Roderick, thou king of monsters, couldst thou do
this,

And for thy lust confine me from the court?

There's reason in thy shame, thou shoul'dst not see

me.

Ha! they come, Jacinta, they come, hark, hark; '
Now thou shalt see what cause I have given my king.

Vanquished Moor's address to the Sun.

Descend thy sphere, thou burning Deity.
Haste from our shame, go blushing to thy bed;
Thy sons49 we are, thou everlasting Ball,
Yet never shamed these our impressive brows
Till now we that are stampt with thine own seal,
Which the whole ocean cannot wash away,
Shall those cold ague cheeks that Nature moulds
Within her winter shop, those smooth white skins,
That with a palsy hand she paints the limbs,

Make us recoil?

Man's Heart.

I would fain know what kind of thing a man's heart is. were you never

At Barber Surgeon's Hall to see a dissection?
I will report it to you: 'tis a thing framed
With divers corners, and into every corner
A man may entertain a friend: (there came

49 ❝ Children of the Sun." Zanga in the Revenge.

The

The proverb, A man may love one well, and yet
Retain a friend in a corner.)-

tush, 'tis not

The real heart; but the unseen faculties.

Those I'll decipher unto you: (for surely
The most part are but ciphers.) The Heart indeed
For the most part doth keep a better guest

Than himself in him; that is, the soul. Now the soul
Being a tree, there are divers 'branches spreading out of it,
As loving-affection, suffering-sorrows, and the like.
Then, Sir, these affections or sorrows being but branches,
Are sometimes lopt off, or of themselves wither;
And new shoot in their rooms: as for example;
Your friend dies, there appears sorrow, but it quickly
Withers; then is that branch gone. Again, you love a
friend;

There affection springs forth: at last you distaste;
Then that branch withers again, and another buds
In his room.

A NEW

A NEW WONDER:

A WOMAN NEVER VEXT. A

COMEDY. BY WM. ROWLEY.

The Woman never Vext states her Case to a Divine.

Doct. You sent for me, gentlewoman?
Wid. Sir, I did, and to this end.

I have some scruples in my conscience;
Some doubtful problems which I cannot answer,
Nor reconcile; I'd have you make them plain.

Doct. This is my duty; pray speak your mind.
Wid. And as I speak, I must remember heaven
That gave those blessings which I must relate:
Sir, you now behold a wonderous woman;
You only wonder at the epithet;

I

can approve it good guess at mine age.

Doct. At the half way 'twixt thirty and forty.

Wid. 'Twas not much amiss; yet nearest to the last.

How think you then, is not this a Wonder,

That a Woman lives full seven and thirty years,
Maid to a wife, and wife unto a widow,

Now widow'd, and mine own; yet all this while,
From the extremest verge of my remembrance,
Even from my weaning hour unto this minute,
Did never taste what was calamity.

I know not yet what grief is, yet have sought
A hundred ways for its acquaintance: with me
Prosperity hath kept so close a watch,

That even those things that I have meant a cross,
Have that way turn'd a blessing. Is it not strange?
Doct. Unparallel'd; this gift is singular,
And to you alone belonging: you are the moon,
For there's but one, all women else are stars,
For there are none of like condition,

Full