_Chi._ But I'le tell you a new tale, Now for my Neck-verse; I have heard thy prayers, And mark me well.

_Musick._ Venus _descends_.

_Nun._ The G.o.ddess is displeased much, The temple shakes and totters; she appears, Bow, Lady, bow.

Venus. _Purge me the Temple round,_ _And live by this example henceforth sound._ _Virgin, I have seen thy tears,_ _Heard thy wishes, and thy fears;_ _Thy holy Incense flew above,_ _Hark therefore to thy doom in Love;_ _Had thy heart been soft at first,_ _Now thou had'st allay'd thy thirst,_ _Had thy stubborn will but bended,_ _All thy sorrows here had ended;_ _Therefore to be just in Love,_ _A strange Fortune thou must prove,_ _And, for thou hast been stern and coy,_ _A dead Love thou shalt enjoy._

_Cal._ O gentle G.o.ddess!

_Ven._ Rise, thy doom is said, And fear not, I will please thee with the dead. [Venus _ascends_.

_Nun._ Go up into the Temple and there end Your holy Rites, the G.o.ddess smiles upon ye. [_Exeunt_ Cal. _and_ Nun.

_Enter_ Chilax _in his Robe_.

_Chi._ I'll no more Oracles, nor Miracles, Nor no more Church work, I'll be drawn and hang'd first.

Am not I torn a pieces with the thunder?

Death, I can scarce believe I live yet, It gave me on the b.u.t.tocks, a cruel, a huge bang, I had as lieve ha' had 'em scratcht with Dog-whips: Be quiet henceforth, now ye feel the end on't, I would advise ye my old friends, the good Gentlewoman Is strucken dumb, and there her Grace sits mumping Like an old Ape eating a Brawn; sure the good G.o.ddess Knew my intent was honest, to save the Princess, And how we young men are entic'd to wickedness, By these lewd Women, I had paid for't else too.

I am monstrous holy now, and cruel fearful, O 'twas a plaguey thump, charg'd with a vengeance.

_Enter_ Siphax, _walks softly over the stage, and goes in_.

Would I were well at home; the best is, 'tis not day: Who's that? ha? _Siphax!_ I'll be with you anon, Sir; Ye shall be oracled I warrant ye, And thunder'd too, as well as I; your Lordship

_Enter_ Memnon, Eumenes, Stremon, _and two carrying Torches_.

Must needs enjoy the Princess, yes: ha! Torches?

And _Memnon_ coming this way? he's Dog-mad, And ten to one appearing thus unto him, He worries me, I must go by him.

_Eum._ Sir?

_Mem._ Ask me no further questions; what art thou?

How dost thou stare! stand off; nay look upon me, I do not shake, nor fear thee-- [_Draws his Sword._

_Chi._ He will kill me, This is for Church work.

_Mem._ Why dost thou appear now?

Thou wert fairly slain: I know thee, _Diocles_, And know thine envy to mine honour: but--

_Chi._ Stay _Memnon_, I am a Spirit, and thou canst not hurt me.

_Eum._ This is the voice of _Chilax_.

_Strem._ What makes him thus?

_Chi._ 'Tis true, that I was slain in field, but foully, By mult.i.tudes, not manhood: therefore mark me, I do appear again to quit mine honour, And on thee single.

_Mem._ I accept the challenge.

Where?

_Chi._ On the Stygian Banks.

_Mem._ When?

_Chi._ Four days hence.

_Mem._ Go n.o.ble Ghost, I will attend.

_Chi._ I thank ye.

_Stre._ Ye have sav'd your throat, and handsomly: Farewel, Sir. [_Exit_ Chilax.

_Mem._ Sing me the Battles of _Pelusium_, In which this Worthy dyed.

_Eum._ This will spoil all, and make him worse Than e'r he was: sit down, Sir, And give your self to rest.

SONG.

_Arm, arm, arm, arm, the Scouts are all come in,_ _Keep your Ranks close, and now your honours win._ _Behold from yonder Hill, the Foe appears,_ _Bows, Bills, Glaves, Arrows, Shields, and Spears,_ _Like a dark Wood he comes, or tempest pouring;_ _O view the Wings of Horse the Meadows scowring,_ _The vant-guard marches bravely, hark, the Drums_--dub, dub.

_They meet, they meet, and now the Battel comes:_ _See how the Arrows fly,_ _That darken all the Skye;_ _Hark how the Trumpets sound,_ _Hark how the Hills rebound._--Tara, tara, tara.

_Hark how the Horses charge: in Boys, Boys in_--tara, tara.

_The Battel totters; now the wounds begin;_ _O how they cry,_ _O how they dy!_ _Room for the valiant _Memnon_ arm'd with thunder,_ _See how he breaks the Ranks asunder:_ _They flye, they flye, _Eumenes_ has the Chace,_ _And brave _Polybius_ makes good his place._ _To the Plains, to the Woods,_ _To the Rocks, to the Floods,_ _They flie for succour: Follow, follow, follow,_ Hey, hey.

_Hark how the Souldiers hollow _Brave _Diocles_ is dead,_ _And all his Souldiers fled,_ _The Battel's won, and lost,_ _That many a life hath cost._

_Mem._ Now forward to the Temple. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Chilax.

_Chi._ Are ye gone?

How have I 'scap'd this morning! by what miracle!

Sure I am ordain'd for some brave end.

_Enter_ Cloe.

_Clo._ How is it?

_Chi._ Come, 'tis as well as can be.

_Clo._ But is it possible This should be true you tell me?

_Chi._ 'Tis most certain.

_Clo._ Such a gross a.s.s to love the Princess?

_Chi._ Peace, Pull your Robe close about ye: you are perfect In all I taught ye?

_Cl[o]._ Sure.

_Chi._ G.o.ds give thee good luck.