TYRINTHUS

Knowest thou Perindus sister, or Olinda ? Live they yet and breathe? Thou makest me happy, in thy happy news. All thanks ye heavenly powers, when I forget Your goodness in my children's life and safety, Let heaven forget both me and mine for ever. Gryphus, back to our ship, and fetch me thence The vestments vowed to Neptune, and the chest, Wherein I locked my other offerings. Exit Gryphus. This rock my heart prefers before a palace. Found men that have enough yet seek for more, I thought by traffic to increase my store, And striving to augment this careful pelf, I lost my goods, my liberty, my self: Taken by Persians on the Grecian seas, So I my captain and the King did please, Soon was I loosed from my slavish band, And straight preferred to have a large command, There have I now consumed these thrice iue summer's, There might I have lived long in wealth and honour, But ah thou little home, how in thy want The world so spacious, yet seems too too scant At my departure hence I left two infants, Perindus and Olinda, the boy some eight, The girl but two years old, to eir mother dead, Who giving life to'th'girle, so took her death, And left her own, to give h in ant b ath. Great Jove and Neptune, I will keep my vows, Seeing my Children live, two chosen bulls, With myrtle crowned, and Oak leaves laid with gold, Shall fallen upon your altars. My trembling heart does some great ill divine, And tells me, every grief and fear is mine. Fishers what news? Pray heavens it do not. The same. Is dead. Tyrinthus falls. How well I had forgotten my grief, And found my rest, with lose of restless life! Thou much hast wronged me, fisher, it's no love, Death from his joust possession to remove: Heavens, you have thanks for both, yet one you slew, Give back half of thy thanks, take but your endue: I owe you nothing for Olinda, nothing. Ah poor Olinda I shall never more, Never more see thee: thy father must lament thee, Thy father, wh in death should long prevent thee, How long since died she? Sure heavens, you mock me: alas, what victo y? What triumph in and old men misery? When you have won, what conquest, that you slew A wretch that hated his life as much as you? Tell me fisher, have you a child? No marvel then Thou blamest my grief, of which thou hast no ence: First loose a child, then blame my patience. Hard fate, most fitly were you women made: Since fate unmerciful, unmoved stands, Well was life's distaff put in women's hands. Killed by a man? A woman! Fit instrument of women: what was the weapon? Canst tell the murderers name? Tell me the circumstance. True, but it's pity in unhelped distress, Condemned souls with all the weight to press. Lives then Dicaeus ? His life does somewhat mend My child's sad death, after a child, a friend. Ah my poor Olinda ! had I seen thee yet And closed thine eyes, alas my poor Olinda ! When that I hold most deer is ever lost, poor lose to loose a tear. Art sure he lives? What chances happen in and hour? By this he may be dead and buried. But yet Perindus, if thou living be, My half joy lives, my half joy die in thee. Fisher, knowest thou these men? Are not these my old men, Scrocca and Cancrone ? Ay me, my son? Perindus ? I can hold no longer, friend, who is thy Ma ster? why art thou manacled? Ay me, my son. Priest, how is my Perindus ? What is the cause? Who could persuade him? What had he done? How fine the heavens powers can sorrow frame! The fates will play, and make my woe their g me. Where is he? Why stand I idle here! Oh to the shore i'll fly, And either with him live, or for him die. But when the heart such weight of sorrow bears, It speaks from what it feels, and what it fears. Died she by a natural, or by violent means?