MILCHO

Who's with the Queen, my prisoner? So: bid my daughter Emeria come hither, She's come very melancholy from the Court, Under pretence to wait upon the Queen here. Enter Emeria. Still sad; come, I must have your face look otherwise, Dress it in smiles: I hope you put not on This sorrow for the Queen, she is a traitor To the King, and to the gods. It will not run Out of my thought; but this is the same Patrick That was my slave once, he was a Brittan too: I know not how, he found some treasure then To buy his liberty: were he again My slave, no gold should buy him from my swine, Whose once companion he was: Emeria, D'yee hear? Conallus, the young Prince is come To see his mother; use him gently, girl: Come, I have herd he does affect thee, would? He may be King. Does he so? then love him best, Break a thousand promises, And hazard breaking of thy heart too wench, To be but one degree nearer a Queen; It does exalt my heart, spread all thy charms Of wit and language, when he courts thee girl: Smile, kiss, or any thing, that may endear Him and so great a fortune: I must leave thee, But wonot be long absent. He must not see her, His insolence I'll punish; yet admit him hither, His pleasant nature may raise mirth In my sad daughter. Enter Barred. Welcome, merry Barred. She's private with the Prince: Come hither, dost thou see that piece of sullenness, That phlegmatic foolish thing. Make her merry, and I'll give thee Gold joy to purchase a new harp, here's some In earnest; thou hast wanton pretty songs To stir the merry thoughts of maids: I'm gone To give thee opportunity, my presence May spoil the working of thy mirth, that done Shalt speak with the Queen too. My daughter gone abroad without a servant? Would! what's here, one murdered? it's the Prince, Slain in my house, confusion; Look about, Search for the traitor I am undone for ever. I tremble to look on him, seek every where. What shall we do? remove the murdered body, And on thy life be silent, we are lost else. Attend without, and give access to none, Till I have thought some way through this affliction. Did my stars owe me this? o, I could curse they, And from my vex worser heart exhale a vapour Of execrations, that should blast the day, And darken all the world. The Prince murdered In my house, and the Traitor not discovered. Let him carry it back, where's the young Prince, Conallus? I'll lay the murder upon him, It will be thought ambition, or upon the . The King? that name Shoots horror through me now, who is the messenger? Would. H , is your name Patrick? He writ to me, That I should try my art, and by some stratagem Discharge his life; I'll do't, but all this wonot Quit the suspicion of the Princes death: What if I lay the murder to his charge? I can swear any thing. But if he come off, My head must answer; no trick in my brain? You're welcome; the King writes you have desires To see the Queen, you shall entreat her presence. You have deserved it. And I do count it happiness to receive Whom he hath graced; but the remembrance Of what you were, adds to the entertainment: My old acquaintance, Patrick. The Queen? welcome again, come hither, sirrah. Obey in every circumstance: My despair Exit Serve Shall have revenge wait on it. This is, Madam, A good man, he was once my slave; let not That title take thy present freedom of My house; my Fortune's and my fate, I wish, May have one perjod with thee, I shall Attend you again, I hope we all may live And die together yet. My duty, Madam. Patrick, thou art caught, inevitable flames Must now devour thee, th'art my slave again, There is no hope to escape: How I do glory, That by my policy thou shalt consume, Though I be made a sacrifice with thee To our great gods; would, would, the Queen: Barred, You will be exlent rost meat for the Devil. I choose to leap into these fires, Rather than hear thee preach thy cursed faith. You're sure to follow me, the King will praise My last act yet; thus I give up my breath, He burns himself. And facrifice you all for his sons death.