[_Within_.

I pray can you help me to the speech of the Master Cook?

_Diag_. If I open the door I'le cook some of your Calvesheads.

Peace Rogues.--again,--who is't?

_Mel_. _Melantius within. Enter Calianax to Melantius_.

_Cal_. Let him not in.

_Diag_. O my Lord I must; make room there for my Lord; is your Lady plac't?

_Mel_. Yes Sir, I thank you my Lord _Calianax_: well met, Your causless hate to me I hope is buried.

_Cal_. Yes, I do service for your Sister here, That brings my own poor Child to timeless death; She loves your friend _Amintor_, such another false-hearted Lord as you.

_Mel_. You do me wrong, A most unmanly one, and I am slow In taking vengeance, but be well advis'd.

_Cal_. It may be so: who placed the Lady there so near the presence of the King?

_Mel_. I did.

_Cal_. My Lord she must not sit there.

_Mel_. Why?

_Cal_. The place is kept for women of more worth.

_Mel_. More worth than she? it mis-becomes your Age And place to be thus womanish; forbear; What you have spoke, I am content to think The Palsey shook your tongue to.

_Cal_. Why 'tis well if I stand here to place mens wenches.

_Mel_. I shall forget this place, thy Age, my safety, and through all, cut that poor sickly week thou hast to live, away from thee.

_Cal_. Nay, I know you can fight for your Wh.o.r.e.

_Mel_. Bate the King, and be he flesh and blood, He lyes that saies it, thy mother at fifteen Was black and sinful to her.

_Diag_. Good my Lord!

_Mel_. Some G.o.d pluck threescore years from that fond man, That I may kill him, and not stain mine honour; It is the curse of Souldiers, that in peace They shall be brain'd by such ign.o.ble men, As (if the Land were troubled) would with tears And knees beg succour from 'em: would that blood (That sea of blood) that I have lost in fight, Were running in thy veins, that it might make thee Apt to say less, or able to maintain, Shouldst thou say more,--This _Rhodes_ I see is nought But a place priviledg'd to do men wrong.

_Cal_. I, you may say your pleasure.

[_Enter Amintor_.

_Amint_. What vilde injury Has stirr'd my worthy friend, who is as slow To fight with words, as he is quick of hand?

_Mel_. That heap of age which I should reverence If it were temperate: but testy years Are most contemptible.

_Amint_. Good Sir forbear.

_Cal_. There is just such another as your self.

_Amint_. He will wrong you, or me, or any man, And talk as if he had no life to lose Since this our match: the King is coming in, I would not for more wealth than I enjoy, He should perceive you raging, he did hear You were at difference now, which hastned him.

_Cal_. Make room there.

_Hoboyes play within_.

_Enter King, Evadne, Aspatia, Lords and Ladies_.

_King_. _Melantius_, thou art welcome, and my love Is with thee still; but this is not a place To brabble in; _Calianax_, joyn hands.

_Cal_. He shall not have my hand.

_King_. This is no time To force you to't, I do love you both: _Calianax_, you look well to your Office; And you _Melantius_ are welcome home; begin the Mask.

_Mel_. Sister, I joy to see you, and your choice, You lookt with my eyes when you took that man; Be happy in him.

[_Recorders_.

_Evad_. O my dearest brother!

Your presence is more joyful than this day can be unto me.

_The Mask_.

_Night rises in mists_.

_Nigh_. Our raign is come; for in the raging Sea The Sun is drown'd, and with him fell the day: Bright _Cinthia_ hear my voice, I am the Night For whom thou bear'st about thy borrowed light; Appear, no longer thy pale visage shrowd, But strike thy silver horn through a cloud, And send a beam upon my swarthy face, By which I may discover all the place And persons, and how many longing eyes Are come to wait on our solemnities.

[_Enter Cinthia_.

How dull and black am I! I could not find This beauty without thee, I am so blind; Methinks they shew like to those Eastern streaks That warn us hence before the morning breaks; Back my pale servant, for these eyes know how To shoot far more and quicker rayes than thou.

_Cinth_. Great Queen, they be a Troop for whom alone One of my clearest moons I have put on; A Troop that looks as if thy self and I Had pluckt our rains in, and our whips laid by To gaze upon these Mortals, that appear Brighter than we.

_Night_. Then let us keep 'em here, And never more our Chariots drive away, But hold our places, and out-shine the day.

_Cinth_. Great Queen of shadows, you are pleas'd to speak Of more than may be done; we may not break The G.o.ds decrees, but when our time is come, Must drive away and give the day our room.

Yet whil'st our raign lasts, let us stretch our power To give our servants one contented hour, With such unwonted solemn grace and state, As may for ever after force them hate Our brothers glorious beams, and wish the night Crown'd with a thousand stars, and our cold light: For almost all the world their service bend To _Phoebus_ and in vain my light I lend, Gaz'd on unto my setting from my rise Almost of none, but of unquiet eyes.

_Nigh_. Then shine at full, fair Queen, and by thy power Produce a birth to crown this happy hour; Of Nymphs and Shepherds let their songs discover, Easie and sweet, who is a happy Lover; Or if thou woot, then call thine own _Endymion_ From the sweet flowry bed he lies upon, On _Latmus_ top, thy pale beams drawn away, And of this long night let him make a day.

_Cinth_. Thou dream'st dark Queen, that fair boy was not mine, Nor went I down to kiss him; ease and wine Have bred these bold tales; Poets when they rage, Turn G.o.ds to men, and make an hour an age; But I will give a greater state and glory, And raise to time a n.o.ble memory Of what these Lovers are; rise, rise, I say, Thou power of deeps, thy surges laid away, _Neptune_ great King of waters, and by me Be proud to be commanded.

[Neptune rises.

_Nep_. _Cinthia_, see, Thy word hath fetcht me hither, let me know why I ascend.