And married wives shall to thy hallow'd shrine
Offer their orisons, and sacrifice

Pure turtles crown'd with mirtle, if thy pity
Unto a yielding brother's pressure lend

One finger but to ease it.

Pen. O no more.

Ith. Death waits to waft me to the Stygian banks, And free me from this chaos of my bondage;

And till thou wilt forgive, I must endure.
Pen. Who is the saint you serve?

Ith. Friendship, or nearness

Of birth, to any but my sister, durst not
Have mov'd that question: as a secret, sister,
I dare not murmur to myself.

Pen. Let me,

By your new protestations I conjure ye,

Partake her name.

Ith. Her name

'tis-'tis-I dare not

Pen. All your respects are forg'd.

Ith. They are not-Peace.

Calantha is the princess, the king's daughter,
Sole heir of Sparta. Me most miserable,
Do I now love thee? For my injuries,
Revenge thyself with bravery, and gossip
My treasons to the king's ears. Do; Calantha
Knows it not yet, nor Prophilus my nearest.

Pen. Suppose you were contracted to her, would it not

Split even your very soul to see her father

Snatch her out of your arms against her will,

And force her on the Prince of Argos?

Ith. Trouble not

The fountains of mine eyes with thine own story:
I sweat in blood for't.

Pen. We are reconciled.

Alas, Sir, being children, but two branches

Of one stock, 'tis not fit we should divide.

Have comfort, you may find it.
Ith. Yes, in thee,

Only in thee, Penthea mine.

Pen. If sorrows

Have not too much dull'd my infected brain,

I'll cheer invention for an active strain.

Penthea recommends her Brother as a dying bequest to the Princess.

CALANTHA. PENTHEA.

Cal. Being alone, Penthea, you have granted The opportunity you sought, and might

At all times have commanded.

Pen. 'Tis a benefit

Which I shall owe your goodness even in death for.
My glass of life, sweet princess, hath few minutes
Remaining to run down; the sands are spent:
For by an inward messenger I feel

The summons of departure short and certain.
Cal. You feed too much your melancholy.
Pen. Glories

Of human greatness are but pleasing dreams,
And shadows soon decaying: on the stage
Of my mortality my youth hath acted
Some scenes of vanity, drawn out at length;
By varied pleasures sweetned in the mixture,
But tragical in issue.

Cal. Contemn not your condition, for the proof
Of bare opinion only to what end
Reach all these moral texts ?

Pen. To place before ye

A perfect mirror, wherein you may see
How weary I am of a lingering life,
Who count the best a misery.

Cal. Indeed

You have no little cause; yet none so great,
As to distrust a remedy.

Pen. That remedy

Must be a winding sheet, a fold of lead,
And some untrod on corner in the earth.
Not to detain your expectation, Princess
I have an humble suit.

Cal. Speak, and enjoy it.

Pen. Vouchsafe then to be my Executrix;
And take that trouble on ye, to dispose
Such legacies as I bequeath impartially :
I have not much to give, the pains are easy;
Heaven will reward your piety and thank it,
When I am dead: for sure I must not live;
I hope I cannot.

Cal. Now beshrew thy sadness;
Thou turnst me too much woman.

Pen. Her fair eyes

Melt into passion: then I have assurance
Encouraging my boldness. In this paper
My will was character'd; which you, with pardon,
Shall now know from mine own mouth.

Cal. Talk on, prithee;

It is a pretty earnest.

Pen. I have left me

But three poor jewels to bequeath. The first is
My youth; for though I am much old in griefs,

In

years I am a child.

Cal. To whom that?

Pen. To virgin wives; such as abuse not wedlock By freedom of desires, but covet chiefly

The pledges of chaste beds, for ties of love
Rather than ranging of their blood: and next,
To married maids; such as prefer the number

Of honorable issue in their virtues,

Before the flattery of delights by marriage;
May those be ever young.

Cal. A second jewel

You mean to part with?

Pen. 'Tis my fame; I trust,

By scandal yet untouch'd: this I bequeath
To Memory and Time's old daughter, Truth.
If ever my unhappy name find mention,
When I am fall'n to dust, may it deserve
Beseeming charity without dishonour.

Cal. How handsomely thou play'st with harmless sport

Of meer imagination! Speak the last.

I strangely like thy will.

Pen. This jewel, Madam,

Is dearly precious to me; you must use
The best of your discretion, to employ
This gift as I intend it.

Cal. Do not doubt me.

'Pen. 'Tis long ago, since first I lost my heart; Long I have liv'd without it: but in stead

Of it, to great Calantha, Sparta's heir,
By service bound, and by affection vow'd,
I do bequeath in holiest rites of love
Mine only brother Ithocles.

Cal. What saidst thou?

Pen. Impute not, heav'n-blest lady, to ambition, A faith as humbly perfect as the prayers

Of a devoted suppliant can endow it:

Look on him, Princess, with an eye of pity;
How like the ghost of what he late appear'd
He moves before you.

Cal. Shall I answer here,
Or lend my ear too grossly?

Pen. First his heart

Shall fall in cinders, scorch'd by your disdain,
Ere he will dare, poor man, to ope an eye
On these divine looks, but with low-bent thoughts
Accusing such presumption: as for words,

He dares not utter any but of service;

Yet this lost creature loves you. Be a Princess
In sweetness as in blood; give him his doom,
Or raise him up to comfort.

Cal. What new change

Appears in my behaviour, that thou darest
Tempt my displeasure?

Pen. I must leave the world,

To revel in Elysium; and 'tis just

To wish my brother some advantage here.
Yet by my best hopes, Ithocles is ignorant
Of this pursuit. But if you please to kill him,
Lend him one angry look, or one harsh word,
And you shall soon conclude how strong a power
Your absolute authority holds over

His life and end.

Cal. You have forgot, Penthea, How still I have a father.

Pen. But remember

I am sister: though to me this brother

Hath been, you know, unkind, O most unkind.
Cal. Christalla, Philema, where are ye?-Lady,
Your check lies in my silence*.

While Calantha (Princess of Sparta) is celebrating the Nuptials of Prophilus and Euphranea at Court with Music and

It is necessary to the understanding of the Scene which follows, to know that the Princess is won by these solicitations of Penthea, and by the real deserts of Ithocles, to requite his love, and that they are contracted with the consent of the King her Father.