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This world is but a Masque, catching weak eyes

With what is not our selves but our disguise,

A Vizard that falls off, the Dance being done,

And leaves Deaths Glass for all to look upon;

Our best happiness here lasts but a night,

Whose burning Tapers makes false Ware seem right.

Who knows not this, and will not now provide

Some better shift before his shame be spy'd,

And knowing this vain world at last will leave him,

Shake off those robes that help but to deceive him?

CONST.

Her words are powerful, I am amaz'd to hear this!

DONO.

Her soul's inchanted with infected Spells.

Leave her, best Girl; for now in thee

Ile seek the fruits of Age, Posterity. -

Out o'my sight! sure, I was half asleep

Or drunk, when I begot thee.

CONST.

Good sir, forbear. What say you to that, sister?

The joy of children, a blest Mothers Name!

Oh, who without much grief can loose such Fame?

MODEST.

Who can enjoy it without sorrow rather?

And that most certain where the joy's unsure,

Seeing the fruit that we beget endure

So many miseries, that oft we pray

The Heavens to shut up their afflicted day;

At best we do but bring forth Heirs to die,

And fill the Coffins of our enemy.

CONST.

Oh, my soul!

DONO.

Hear her no more, Constancia,

She's sure bewitcht with Error; leave her, Girl.

CONST.

The I must leave all goodness, sir: away

Stand off, I say.

DONO.

How's this?

CONST.

I have no father, friend, no husband now;

All are but borrowed robes, in which we masque

To waste and spend the time, when all our Life

Is but one good betwixt two Ague-days,

Which from the first e're we have time to praise,

A second Fever takes us: Oh, my best sister,

My souls eternal friend, forgive the rashness

Of my distemper'd tongue; for how could she,

Knew not her self, know thy felicity,

From which worlds cannot now remove me?

DONO.

Art thou mad too, fond woman? what's thy meeting?

CONST.

To seek eternal happiness in heaven,

Which all this world affords not.

CADOR.

Think of thy Vow, thou art my promis'd Wife.

CONST.

Pray, trouble me no further.

OMNES.

Strange alteration!

CADOR.

Why do you stand at gaze, you sacred Priests?

You holy men, be equal to the Gods,

And consummate my Marriage with this woman.

Bishop.

Her self gives barr, my Lord, to your desires

And our performance; 'tis against the Law

And Orders of the Church to force a Marriage.

CADOR.

How am I wrong'd! Was this your trick, my Lord?

DONO.

I am abus'd past sufferance;

Grief and amazement strive which Sense of mine

Shall loose her being first. Yet let me call thee Daughter.

CADOR.

Me, Wife.

CONST.

Your words are air, you speak of want to wealth,

And wish her sickness, newly rais'd to health.

DONO.

Bewitched Girls, tempt notan old mans fury,

That hath no strength to uphold his feeble age,

But what your sights give life to: oh, beware,

And do not make me curse you.

(Kneel.) MODEST.

Dear father,

Here at your feet we kneel, grant us but this,

That in your sight and hearing, this good Hermit

May plead our Cause; which, if it shall not give

Such satisfaction as your Age desires,

We will submit to you.

CONST.

You gave us life;

Save not our bodies, but our souls from death.

DONO.

This gives some comfort yet: Rise with my blessings. -

Have patience, noble Cador, worthy Edwin;

Send for the Hermit that we may confer.

For, sure, Religion tyes you not to leave

Your careful Father thus; if so it be,

Take you content, and give all grief to me.

(Exeunt.

Scene III.

A cave in the Forest.)

Thunder and Lightning; Enter DEVIL.

DEVIL.

Mix light and darkness; earth and heaven dissolve,

Be of one piece agen, and turn to Chaos;

Break all your works, you powers and spoil the world,

Or, if you will maintain earth still, give way

And life to this abortive birth now coming,

Whose fame shall add unto your oracles.

Lucina, Hecate, dereadful Queen of Night,

Bright Proserpine, be pleas'd for Ceres love,

From Stigian darkness summon up the Fates,

And in a moment bring