Eug. 'Tis in my power

To give you liberty; your father left Me to be your keeper: but in an act

So meritorious as this, I will not hinder you; Nay, I will wait upon you to the court.

Grant, oh ye powers above, if virgin's tears,
If a true lover's prayers had ever power
To move compassion, grant it now to me!
Arm with so strong a vigour my weak words,
They may pierce deep into his kingly breast,

Eug. Come, let's away.

[Exeunt.

Enter FRANCISCO, reading a Letter.

Franc. My dearest Lucy, were thy old sire as just As thou art truly constant, our firm love Had never met these oppositions. All my designs as yet, all practices That I have used, I see are frustrated; For, as my fair intelligencer writes, He will before the next court-day provide Some careless parson, that in spite of laws Shall marry her to Shallow; this being done, He means to hold the court's severity In by a golden bit. And so he may, Alas! it is too true; I must prevent it, And that in time, before it grow too far: But how? there lies the point of difficulty.But what strange sight is this that greets mine eyes?

Alphonso, my old captain! sure 'tis be.

Enter ALPHONSO.

Alph. Thus once again from twenty years exile, Tost by the storms of fortune to and fro, Has gracious heaven given me leave to tread My native earth of Sicily, and draw That air that fed me in my infancy.

Franc. Tis he! Most noble captain, oh, what power

Has been so gracious, as to bless mine eyes Once more with sight of my most honoured master?

Alph. Kind youth, the tears of joy that I have
spent

To greet my native country, have quite robbed
Mine eyes of moisture, and have left me none
To answer thy affection. But tell me,
Tell me how thou hast lived in Syracuse
These five years here, since that unlucky storm
Divided us at sea.

Franc. Faith poorly, sir,

As one that knows no kindred or alliance,
Unknown of any, have I shifted out:
But I have heard you say that I was born
In Syracuse; tell me what stock I come of,
What parentage; how mean soe'er they be,
They cannot well be poorer than myself:
Speak, do you know them, sir?

Alph. Yes, very well,

And I am glad the fates have brought me home,

VOL. I.

For thy dear sake, that I may now disclose Thy honourable birth.

Franc. Honourable !

Alph. Yes, noble youth, thou art the second son To old lord Euphues; a man more worthy And truly noble never drew this air; Thy name's Lysandro: this discovery Will be as welcome to your friends as you. Franc. You do amaze me, sir.

Alph. I'll tell you all:

It was my fortune, twenty years ago,
Upon the Tyrrhene shore, whose sea divides
This isle from Italy, to keep a fort
Under your noble father, where yourself,
Then but a child, was left to my tuition;
When suddenly the rude assailing force
Of strong Italian pirates so prevailed,
As to surprisal of the fort and us.
Your name and noble birth I then concealed,
Fearing some outrage from the enmity
Of those fell pirates; and since, from yourself
I purposely have kept the knowledge of it,
As loth to grieve your present misery,
With knowledge of what fortunes you had lost.
That this is true, you straight shall see the effect;
I'll go acquaint your father with the tokens,
And make his o'erjoy'd heart leap to embrace
Thee, his new-found, and long-forgotten son.

Frunc. Worthy captain, your presence was al

Vir. I conceive you, sir. Poly. I laboured it, for your sake, as much as for my own, to remove your rival and my enemy: you have your love, and I have my revenge. Vir. I shall live, my lord, to give you thanks. But it will be after a strange manner, if Irus bas dispatched what he was hired to; then, my kind lord, I shall be a little too cunning for you.

[Aside. Poly. My lord, you are gracious with the king. Vir. I thank his majesty, I have his ear before another man.

Poly. Then see no pardon be granted, you may stop any thing; I know Euphues will be soliciting for his son.

Vir. I warrant you, my lord, no pardon passes whilst I am there; I'll be a bar betwixt him and the king. But hark, the king approaches.

Enter King, with Attendants.

Ambo. Health to your majesty.

King. Count Virro, and lord Polymetes, wel

come;

You have been strangers at the court of late; But I can well excuse you, count; you are about a wife,

A young one, and a fair one too, they say.
Get me young soldiers, count; but speak,
When is the day? I mean to be your guest;.
You shall not steal a marriage.

Vir. I thank your majesty; but the marriage that I intended is stolen to my hand, and by another.

King. Stolen! how, man?

Vir. My promised wife

Is lately stolen away by Philocles,

Lord Euphues' son, against her father's will; Who followed them, and apprehended them : The law may right us, sir, it it may have course. King. No reason but the law should have its

course.

Enter EUPHUES.

Euph. Pardon, dread sovereign, pardon for my

son.

King. Your son, lord Euphues! what is his offence?

Euph. No heinous one, my liege, no plot of

treason

Against your royal person, or your state;
These aged checks would blush to beg a pardon
For such a foul offence; no crying murder

Hath stained his innocent hands; his fault was love,

Love, my dear liege: unfortunately he took
The daughter and heir of lord Polymetes;
Who follows him, and seeks extremity.

Poly. I seek but law; I am abused, my liege,
Justice is all I beg: my daughter stolen,
Staff of my age; let the law do me right.

Vir. To his just prayers do I bend my knee;
My promised wife is stolen, and by the son
Of that injurious lord; justice I crave.

Euph. The law is blind, and speaks in general terins,

She cannot pity where occasion serves;
The living law can moderate her rigour,
And that's the king.

Poly. The king I hope in this will not do so.
Euph. 'Tis malice makes thee speak,
Hard-hearted lord: hadst thou no other way
To wreak thy cankered and long-fostered hate
Upon my head but thus, thus bloodily
By my son's suffering, and for such a fault
As thou should'st love him rather? Is thy daugh-

ter

Disparaged by his love? is his blood base,
Or are his fortune's sunk? This law was made
For such-like cautions, to restrain the base
From wronging noble persons by attempts
Of such a kind; but, where equality
Meets in the match, the fault is pardonable.

Enter LEUCOTHOE.

Leucoth. Mercy, my sovereign; mercy, gracious king.

Poly. Minion, who sent for you? 'twere modesty

For you to be at home.

King. Let her alone; speak, lady,

I charge you no man interrupt her.
Leucoth. If ever pity touched that princely breast!
If ever virgin's tears had power to move,—
Or if you ever loved, and felt the pangs
That other lovers do,-pity, great king!
Pity and pardon two unhappy lovers.

King. Your life is not in question.
Leucoth. Yes, royal sir,

If law condemn my Philocles; he and I
Have but one heart, and can have but one fate.
Euph. Excellent virtue! thou hadst not this

from thy father.

King. There's music in her voice; and in her face

More than a mortal beauty :-Oh, my heart!
I shall be lost in passion if I hear her.

I'll hear no more, convey her from my presence;
Quickly, I say.

Euph. This is strange!

My mind was runting of another matter. Vir. Where the devil hath his mind been all this while? Perhaps he heard none of us neither, we may e'en tell our tales again.

Poly. No, sure he heard us; but 'tis very

strange.

King. 'Tis such a tempting poison I draw in, I cannot stay my draught.-Rise up, lady. Leucoth. Never, until your grace's pardon raise

me:

There's pity in your eye, oh shew it, sir;
Say pardon, gracious king; 'tis but a word,
And short, but welcome as the breath of life.
King. I'll further hear the manner of this fact:
Avoid the presence, all but the lady,
And come not till I send.

Poly. I like not this.

Vir. Nor I; here is mad dancing.

Euph. Heaven bless thy suit, thou mirror of
thy sex,

And best example of true constant love!
That, in the sea of thy transcendent virtues,
Drown'st all thy father's malice, aud redeem'st
More in my thoughts than all thy kin can lose.

[Exeunt. King. Now, lady, what would you do to save the life

Of him you love so dearly?

Leucoth. I cannot think that thought I would not
do.

Lay it in my power, and beyond my power
I would attempt.

King. You would be thankful then to me,
If I should grant his pardon?

Leucoth. If ever I were thankful to the Gods For all that I call mine, my health and being, Could I to you be unthankful for a gift I value more than those, and without which These blessings were but wearisome?

King. Those that are thankful, study to requite a courtesy would you do so? would you requite this favour?

Leucoth. I cannot, sir;

For all the service I can do your grace
Is but my duty; you are my sovereign,
And all my deeds to you are debts, not merits.
But to those powers above, that can requite,
That from their wasteless treasures heap rewards,
More out of grace than merits, on us mortals,
To those I'll ever pray, that they would give you
More blessings than I have skill to ask.

King. Nay, but Leucothoë, this lies in thy power to requite: thy love will make requital; wilt thou love me?

Leucoth. I ever did, my lord:

I was instructed from my infancy
To love and honour you, my sovereign.

King. But in a nearer bond of love?
Leucoth. There is no nearer, nor no truer love,
Than that a loyal subject bears a prince.
King. Still thou wilt not conceive me, I must
deal

Plain with you; wilt thou lie with me?

And I will seal his pardon presently;
Nay more, I'll heap upon you both, all favours
All honours that a prince can give.
Leucoth. Oh me unhappy!

In what a sad dilemma stands my choice,
Either to lose the man my soul most loves,
Or save him by a deed of such dishonour
As he will ever lothe me for, and hate
To draw that breath that was so basely kept!
Name any thing but that to save his life;
I know you do but tempt my frailty, sir,
I know your royal thoughts could never stoop
To such a foul, dishonourable act.

King. Bethink thyself, there is no way but that;
I swear by Heaven never to pardon him
But upon those conditions.

Leucoth. Oh I am miserable!

King. Thou art not, if not wilful; yield, Leucothoi,

It shall be secret; Philocles for his life
Shall thank thy love, but never know the price
Thou paid'st for it. Be wise; thou heard'st me

swear:

I cannot now shew mercy, thou may'st save him, And if he die, 'tis thou that art the tyrant.

Leucoth. I should be so, if I should save him thus: Nay, I should be a traitor to your grace, Betray your soul to such a foe as lust. But, since your oath is past, dear Philocles, I'll shew to thee an honest cruelty, And rather follow thee in spotless death, Than buy with sinning a dishonoured life. King. Yet pity me, Leucothoë; cure the wound Thine eyes have made: pity a begging king; Uncharm the charms of thy bewitching face, Or thou wilt leave me dead! Will nothing move

thee?

Thou art a witch, a traitor, thou hast sought,
By unresisted spells, thy sovereign's life:
Who are about us? Call in the lords again!

Enter POLYMETES, VIRRO, EUPHUES, &c.
Lord Polymetes, take your daughter to you,
Keep her at home.

Poly. I will, my liege; Roscio, see her there. I wonder what is done.

King. Euphues, I have ta'en a solemn oath Never to grant a pardon to thy son.

Euph. Oh say not so, my liege; your grace,. I know,

Has mercy for a greater fault than this.

King. My oath is past, and cannot be recalled, Poly. This is beyond our wishes.

Vir. What made him swear this, I wonder? Euph. A heavy oath to me, and most unlooked for!

Your justice, Sir, has set a period
Unto a loyal house, a family

That have been props of the Sicilian crown,
That with their bloods in many a hot oured field,
'Gainst the hot French, and Neapolitan,
Have served for you, and your great arce-tois:
Their children now can never more do so,