An Altar, covered with white: two lights of virgin wax upon it.-Recorders, during which enter Attendants, bearing ITHOCLES on a Hearse, in a rich robe, with a Crown on his head; and place him on the one side of the Altar. After which, enter Calantha in white, crowned, attended by EUPHRANEA, PHILEMA, and CHRISTALLA, also in white: NEARCHUS, ARMOSTES, CROTOLON, PROPHILUS, AMELUS, BASSANES, HEMOPHIL, and GRONEAS. CALANTHA kneels before the Altar, the Ladies kneeling behind her, the rest stand off. The Recorders cease during her devotions. Soft Music. CALANTHA and the rest rise, doing obeisance to the Altar.

Cal. Our orisons are heard; the gods are merciful.

Now tell me, you, whose loyalties pay tribute
To us your lawful sovereign, how unskilful
Your duties, or obedience is, to render
Subjection to the sceptre of a virgin,
Who have been ever fortunate in princes
Of masculine and stirring composition?
A woman has enough to govern wisely
Her own demeanors, passions, and divisions.
A nation warlike, and enured to practice

Of policy and labour, cannot brook

A feminate authority; we therefore

Command your counsel, how you may advise us
In choosing of a husband, whose abilities

Can better guide this kingdom.

Near. Royal lady,

Your law is in your will.

Arm. We have seen tokens

Of constancy too lately, to mistrust it.

Crot. Yet, if your highness settle on a choice, By your own judgment both allow'd and liked of, Sparta may grow in power, and proceed To an increasing height.

Cal. Hold you the same mind?

Bass. Alas, great mistress! reason is so clouded With the thick darkness of my infinite woes, That I forecast nor dangers, hopes, or safety. Give me some corner of the world to wear out The remnant of the minutes I must number, Where I may hear no sounds, but sad complaints Of virgins, who have lost contracted partners; Of husbands howling that their wives were ravish'd By some untimely fate; of friends divided By churlish opposition; or of fathers Weeping upon their children's slaughter'd car

Cal. I would presume you would retain the royalty

Of Sparta in her own bounds; then in Argos
Armostes might be viceroy; in Messene
Might Crotolon bear sway; and Bassanes-
Bass. I, queen? alas! what I?
Cal. Be Sparta's marshal;

The multitudes of high employments could not
But set a peace to private griefs. These gentlemen,
Groneas and Hemophil, with worthy pensions,
Should wait upon your person, in your chamber:
I would bestow Christalla on Amelus,
She'll prove a constant wife; and Philema
Should into Vesta's temple.

Bass. This is a testament!

It sounds not like conditions on a marriage.
Near. All this should be perform'd.
Cal. Lastly, for Prophilus;

He should be, cousin, solemnly invested
In all those honours, titles, and preferments
Which his dear friend, and my neglected husband,
Too short a time enjoy'd.

Pro. I am unworthy

To live in your remembrance.
Euph. Excellent lady!

Near. Madam, what means that word, "neg

Fern. Sir, I know

Ros. The duke's at hand,

You are so well acquainted with your own, You need not flatter mine; trust me, my lord, I'll be a suitor for you.

Pet. And I'll second

My nephew's suit, with importunity.

Ros. You are, my lord Fernando, late return'd From travels; pray instruct me :-since the voice Of most supreme authority commands My absence, I determine to bestow Some time in learning languages abroad; Perhaps the change of air may change in me Remembrance of my wrongs at home: good sir, Inform me; say I meant to live in Spain, What benefit of knowledge might I treasure?

Fern. Troth, sir, I'll freely speak as I have found.

In Spain you lose experience; 'tis a climate
Too hot to nourish arts; the nation proud,
And in their pride unsociable; the court
More pliable to glorify itself

Than do a stranger grace: if you intend
To traffic like a merchant, 'twere a place
Might better much your trade; but as for me,
I soon took surfeit on it.

Ros. What for France?

Fern. France I more praise and love. You are my lord,

Yourself for horsemanship much famed ; and there,
You shall have many proofs to shew your skill.
The French are passing courtly, ripe of wit,
Kind, but extreme dissemblers; you shall have
A Frenchman ducking lower than your knee,
At th' instant mocking even your very shoe-ties.
To give the country due, it is on earth
A paradise; and if you can neglect

Your own appropriaments, but praising that
In others, wherein you excel yourself,
You shall be much beloved there.

[neat,

Fern. I'll tell you what I found there; men as As courtly as the French, but in condition Quite opposite. Put case that you, my lord, Could be more rare on horseback than you are, If there (as there are many) one excell'd You in your art as much as you do others, Yet will the English think their own is nothing Compared with you a stranger; in their habits They are not more fantastic than uncertain; In short, their fair abundance, manhood, beauty, No nation can disparage but itself.

Ros. My lord, you have much eased me; I reFern. And whither are you bent?

Ros. My lord, for travel;

To speed for England.

Fern. No, my lord, you must not;

I have yet some private conference

To impart unto you for your good; at night]
I'll meet you at my lord Petruchio's house,
Till then, be secret.

Ros. Dares my cousin trust me?

[solve.

Pet. Dare I, my lord! yes, 'less your fact were Than a bold woman's spleen.

[greater

(As if he were transformed in his mind,)
To sooth him in his pleasures, amongst whom
Is fond Ferentes; one whose pride takes pride
In nothing more than to delight his lust;
And he (with grief I speak it) hath, I fear,
Too much besotted my unhappy daughter,
My poor Colona; whom, for kindred's sake,
As you are noble, as you honour virtue,
Persuade to love herself: a word from you
May win her more than my intreats or frowns.
Fern. Uncle, I'll do my best; mean time, pray
tell me,

Whose mediation wrought the marriage
Betwixt the duke and duchess, who was agent?

Pet. His roving eye and her enchanting face,
The only dower nature had ordained

T' advance her to her bride-bed. She was daughter
Unto a gentleman of Milàn-no better-
Preferr'd to serve i' th' Duke of Milan's court;
Where for her beauty she was greatly famed:
And passing late from thence to Monaco,
To visit there her uncle, Paul Baglione,
The abbot, Fortune (queen to such blind matches)
Presents her to the duke's eye, on the way,
As he pursues the deer in short, my lord,

He saw her, lov'd her, woo'd her, won her, match'd
No counsel could divert him.

Fern. She is fair.

[her;

Pet. She is; and, to speak truth, I think right In her conditions.

Fern. If, when I should choose,

Beauty and virtue were the fee proposed,

I should not pass for parentage.

Pet. The duke

Doth come.

Fern. Let's break off talk; if ever, now,

[noble

Good angel of my soul, protect my truth! [Aside.

Enter the Duke, BIANCA, FIORMONDA, NIBRASSA,
FERENTES, JULIA, and D'AVOLOS.

Duke. Come, my Bianca, revel in mine arms;
Whilst I, wrapt in my admiration, view
Lilies and roses growing in thy cheeks.
Fernando! oh, thou half myself! no joy
Could make my pleasures full without thy presence:
I am a monarch of felicity,

Proud in a pair of jewels, rich and beautiful;
A perfect friend, a wife above compare.
Fern. Sir,-if a man so low in rank may hope,
By loyal duty and devoted zeal,

To hold a correspondency in friendship
With one so mighty as the Duke of Pavy,
My uttermost ambition is to climb

To those deserts may give the stile of servant.
Duke. Of partner in my dukedom, in my heart,
As freely as the privilege of blood
Hath made them mine ;-Philippo and Fernando
Shall be without distinction. Look, Bianca,

On this good man; in all respects to him
Be as to me only the name of husband,
And reverent observance of our bed,
Shall differ us in persons, else in soul
We are all one.

He hath some change of words, 'twere no lost labour

To stuff your table-books; the man speaks wisely! Fer. I am glad your highness is so pleasant. Duke. Sister!

Fior. My lord and brother.

Duke. You are too silent,

Quicken your sad remembrance: though the loss
Of your dead husband be of more account
Than slight neglect, yet 'tis a sin against
The state of princes, to exceed a mean
In mourning for the dead.

Fior. Should form, my lord,

Prevail above affection? no, it cannot.

You have yourself here a right noble duchess, Virtuous at least, and should your grace now pay, Which heaven forbid! the debt you owe to nature, I dare presume, she'd not so soon forget

A prince that thus advanced her.-Madam, could you?

D'Av. Bitter and shrewd.

[Aside. Bian. Sister, I should too much bewray my weakness,

To give a resolution on a passion
I never felt nor fear'd.

Nib. A modest answer.

Fern. If credit may be given to a face, My lord, I'll undertake on her behalf; Her words are trusty heralds to her mind.

Fior. [Aside to D'Av.] Exceeding good; the Observe it, D'Avolos. [man will "undertake!” D'Av. Lady, I do;

To crouch to profit; nay, for trash and wealth,
Dote on some crooked or misshapen form;
Hugging wise nature's lame deformity,
Begetting creatures ugly as themselves :-
But why should princes do so, that command
The storehouse of the earth's hid minerals?—
No, my Bianca, thou art to me as dear

As if thy portion had been Europe's riches;
Since in thine eyes lies more than these are worth.
Set on; they shall be strangers to my heart,
That envy thee thy fortunes.-Come, Fernando,
My but divided self; what we have done
We are only debtor to heaven for.-On!

Fior. [Aside to D'Av.] Now take thy time, or never, D'Avolos;

Prevail, and I will raise thee high in grace.
D'Av. Madam, I will omit no art.

[Exeunt all but D'Av, who recals FERN.

My honour'd lord Fernando!
Fern. To me, sir?

D'Av. Let me beseech your lordship to excuse me in the nobleness of your wisdom, if I exceed

good manners: I am one, my lord, who, in the admiration of your perfect virtues, do so truly honour and reverence your deserts, that there is not a creature bears life, shall more faithfully study to do you service in all offices of duty, and vows of due respect.

Fern. Good sir, you bind me to you; is this all? D'Av. I beseech your ear a little; good my lord, what I have to speak, concerns your reputation and best fortune.

Fern. How's that! my reputation? lay aside Superfluous ceremony; speak, what is it?

D'Av. I do repute myself the blessedest man alive, that I shall be the first gives your lordship news of your perpetual comfort.

Fern. As how?

D'Av. If singular beauty, unimitable virtues, honour, youth, and absolute goodness be a fortune, all those are at once offered to your particular choice.

Fern. Without delays, which way?

D'Av. The great and gracious lady Fiormonda loves you, infinitely loves you.-But, my lord, as ever you tendered a servant to your pleasures, let me not be revealed, that I gave you notice on't.

Fern. Sure you are strangely out of tune, sir. D'Av. Please but to speak to her; be but courtly ceremonious with her, use once but the language of affection, if I misreport ought besides my knowledge, let me never have place in your good opinion. Oh, these women, my lord, are as brittle metal as your glasses, as smooth, as slippery, their very first substance was quicksands: let them look never so demurely, one fillip chokes them. My lord, she loves you; I know it.-But I beseech your lordship not to discover me; I would not for the world she should know that you know it by me.

Fern. I understand you, and to thank your care, Will study to requite it; and I vow

She never shall have notice of your news
By me, or by my means. And, worthy sir,
Let me alike enjoin you not to speak
A word of that I understand her love;
And as for me, my word shall be your surety,
I'll not as much as give her cause to think
I ever heard it.

D'Av. Nay, my lord, whatsoever I infer, you may break with her in it, if you please; for, rather than silence should hinder you one step to such a fortune, I will expose myself to any rebuke for your sake, my good lord.

Fern. You shall not, indeed, sir; I am still your friend, and will prove so; for the present I am forced to attend the duke. Good hours befal you! I must leave you. [Exit.

D'Av. Gone already? 'sfoot, I have marr'd all! this is worse and worse; he's as cold as hemlock. If her highness knows how I have gone to work, she'll thank me scurvily. A pox of all dull brains! I took the clean contrary course: there is a mystery in this slight carelessness of his; I must sift it, and I will find it. Uds me, fool myself out of my wit! well, I'll choose some fitter opportunity to inveigle him, and, till then, smooth her up that he is a man overjoyed with the report. [Exit.