KING OF LYDIA

How? King of Cilicia. It savours not of nobleness nor virtue, Religion, loyalty, heaven or nature's laws So most perfidiously to enter, Tyrant, Where was, expected honesty and honour, Assistance from a friend, not a dissembler, A Royal neighbour and no politic foe. What worse than this could the enemy perform? And when shines friendship best but in a storm? Will nothing satisfy but all? Who can expect but blood where Tyrants govern? The lose of my deer Queen afflicts me more Then all Lapirus cursed treacheries: Inhumane monster! Alas, some traveling man, by night out stripped, Missing his way into this danger slipped; Set all our hands to help him; Come, good man, They that fit high may make their ends below. You're heavy sir, who ere you be. One full strength more makes our pains happy, poor strength helps the poor. So sir, you're welcome to — Lapirus? o. Lapi. falls down. We do forgive thy Treachery, revive, 'Tis pity and not hate makes goodness thrive. Our Queen! o where, Lapirus? tell the rest. Which way? led deer Lapirus. Not only shall we quit thy souls offence ̄ But give thy happy labour recompense. Exeunt. 'Tis as I hoped and wished; now bless us heaven, What horrid and inhuman spectacle Is yonder that presents it self to sighed? A generous, free, and charitable mind Keeps in thy bosom to poor Pilgrim's kind. Where ere I look these limbs are ̄ in mine eye. Your bounty every way conquers poor strangers. Villain, this minute looses thee, thou Tyrant. Die cruel murderous Tyrant. On thee Lapyrus, and thy treacheries, fallen The heavy burden of and old men curse. News of more sadnesses than the Kingdoms lose, She fled upon her hour, for had she stayed She had either died, been banished, or betrayed. I have some servants here? All these? not all you did forget, I am not worth the flattering, I am done ̄ , Old and at set, honour the rising Sun. If any for love serve me, which is he? Now let him shame the world and follow me. What two of you? Let it be enrolled Two follow a King when he is poor ̄ and old. Exit cum suis. What Tyranny hath been exercised of late? I dare not venture on. Bold strangers, by the Tempest beaten in. The sin was great, so is the penance grievous. And was he Lydian born? O me, my son Tymethes. Sins boast is worse than sin. Alas poor Lady, it makes me weep to see what food she eats. I know your mercy will remit this penance. I am so born betwixt the violent streams Of Joy and passion, I forget my state; To all our thanks and favours, and what more We are in debt to all your free consent We will discharge in happy government. Already a Petition? suitors begin betimes We are scarce warm in our good fortune yet, what are you? Our dearest Queen? O let me light upon that constant breast, And kiss thee till my soul melt on thy lips: Our Joys were perfect, stood Tymethes there, We are old; this Kingdom wants a hopeful heir. How just the Gods are? who in their endue time Return what they took from us. Prepare those limbs for honourable burial, And noble Nephew all your ill is lost In your late new born goodness, which we'll reward, No storm of fate so fierce but time destroys, And beats back misery with a peal of Joys.