The Maydes Tragedy.

Enter C L E O N, S T R A T O, L I S I P P V S, D I P H I L V S.
CL E O N. The rest are making ready sir{,}<.>
{L Y S} <Stra>. So let them, theres time enough.
D I P H. You are the brother to the King | my
Lord, wee'le take your word.
L I S. Strato thou hast some skill in | poetrie,
What think'st {thou} of a maske, | will it be well?
S T R. As {well as} masks can be. 
L I S. As masks can be{.}<?>  
S T R A. Yes, they must commend <their King>, {and} <&> speake in | praise of
the assembly, blesse the Bride and <Bride>groome, | in person of
some {god} <God>, {there} <they'r> tied to rules of flatterie.
C L E. See good my Lord who is return'd.
L I S. Noble Melantius,                          Enter Melantius
{the} <The> land by me welcomes thy vertues home <to Rhodes>, | thou that with
{blowes} <blood> abroad {bringst} <buyest> vs our peace {at home,} <.> {the} <The> | breath
of Kings is like the breath of {gods} <Gods> , my brother | wisht thee
here, and thou art here, he will be {kinde;} <too kind,> and | wearie thee
with often {welcome} <welcomes>, but the time doth giue | thee a wel- |
come, aboue his, or all the {world} <worlds> .
M E L. My Lord, my thankes, but these scratcht limbes
of mine, haue spoke my loue and truth vnto my friends,
more then my tongue ere could, my mind's the same it | e-
uer was to you; where I finde worth<,>
I loue the keeper, till he let it goe,
And then I follow it.
D I P H. Haile worthy brother,
He that reioyces not at your returne
In {safetie}<safety>, is mine {enemy}<enemie> for euer.
M E L. I thanke thee Diphilus: but thou art faultie,
I sent for thee to exercise thine armes
With me at Patria, thou camst not Diphilus{:}<;>
Twas ill.
D I P H. My noble brother<,> my excuse
Is my Kings {straight}<strict> command, which you my Lord
Can witnesse with me.
L I S. Tis {most} true Melantius,
He might not come till the {solemnities}<solemnitie>
Of this great match were past. 
D I P H. Haue you heard of it{.}<?>
M E L. Yes, {and}<I> haue giuen cause to those{,} that {here}
Enuy my {deedes}<deeds> abroad, to call me gamesome,
I haue no other busines {here}<heere> at Rhodes.
L I S. We haue a maske to night,
And you must tread a souldiers measure.
M E L. These soft and silken warres are not for me,
The musicke must be shrill and all confus'd<,>
That {stirs}<stirres> my {blood}<bloud>, and then I {daunce,}<dance with Armes:>
But is Amintor wed? 
D I P H. This day?
M E L. All ioyes vpon him, for he is my friend{,}<:>
Wonder not that I call a man so young <my friend>;
His worth is great, valiant he is <and temperate>,
And one that neuer thinkes his life his owne,
If his friend neede it{,}<:> when he was a boy,
As oft as I return'd (as without boast)
I brought home conquest, he would gaze vpon me,
And view me round, to finde in what one limbe
The vertue lay to doe those things he heard, 
Then would he wish to see my sword, and feele
The quicknesse of the edge, and in his hand
{Weighes}<Weigh> it, he oft would make me smile at this;
His youth did promise much, and his ripe yeares
Will see it all perform'd.                     Enter Aspatia<,> | passing
<Melan.>Hail Maide and Wife.                              <by> {with attendance}.
Thou faire Aspatia, may the holy knot,
That thou hast tied to day, last till the hand
Of age vndoe't, mayst thou bring a race
Vnto Amintor, that may fill the world 
Successiuely with {souldiers}<Souldiers>.
A S P. My hard fortunes
Deserue not scorne, for I was neuer proud
When they were good.                      Exit Aspatia.
M E L. Howes this{.}<?>
L I S. You are mistaken {sir}, <for> she is not married.
M E L. You said Amintor was.
D I P H. Tis true, but
M E L. Pardon me, I did receiue
Letters at Patria from my Amintor
That he should {marie}<marrie> her.
D I P H. And so it stood,
In all opinion long, but your arriuall
Made me imagine you had heard the change.
M E L. Who {has}<hath> he taken then?
L I S. A Ladie sir,
That beares the light {aboue}<about> her, and strikes dead
With flashes of her eye, the fair Euadne
Your vertuous sister.
M E L. Peace of heart betwixt them, 
But this is strange.
L I S. The King my brother did it
To {honour}<honor> you, and these solemnities
Are at his charge.
M E L. Tis royall like himselfe,
But I am sad, my speech beares so {infortunate}<vnfortunate> a sound
To beautifull Aspatia{,}<:> there is rage
Hid in her fathers breast<,> Calianax{,}
Bent long against me and {'a}<he> should not thinke,
{Could I but}<If I could> call it backe, that I would take 
Such base reuenges as to scorne the state
Of his neglected daughter{.}<: holds he still his greatnesse with the king?>
L I S. {O t'were pittie, for this Lady sir,
Sits}<Yes, but this Lady walkes> discontented with her watrie {eyes}<eies> bent on the earth{,}<:>
{In}<The> vnfrequented woods are her delight,
{Where}<And> when she sees a bancke stucke full of flowers,
{Then she will sit, and sigh, and}<Shee with a sigh will> tell
Her seruants, what a prittie place it were
To burie louers in, and make her {maides}<maids>
Pluck'em, and strow {them}<her> ouer her like a corse{,}<.> 
She carries with her an infectious griefe,
That strikes all her beholders, she will sing
The mournfulst things that euer eare hath heard,
And {swound}<sigh>, and sing againe, and when the rest
Of {your}<our> young Ladyes in their wanton {blood}<bloud>,
Tell mirthfull tales in course that {fils}<fill> the roome
With laughter, she will with so sad a looke
Bring forth a {storie}<story> of the silent death
Of some forsaken virgin, which her griefe
Will put in such a phrase, that ere she end 
Shee'le send them weeping one by one away.
M E L. She has a brother vnder my command
Like her, a face as womanish as hers,
But with a spirit that hath much outgrowne
The number of his yeares.                       Enter Amintor.
C L E. My Lord the Bridegroome.
M E L. I might {run}<runne> fiercely, not more hastily
Vpon my foe{,}<:> I loue thee well Amintor,
My mouth is much too narrow for my heart,
I ioy to looke vpon those {eyes}<eies> of thine, 
Thou art my friend, but my disordred speech
Cuts off my loue.
A M I N. Thou art Melantius,
All loue is spoke in that, a sacrifice
To thanke the gods, Melantius is return'd
In {safty}<safety>, victory sits on his sword
As she was wont{,}<;> may she build there, and dwell,
And may thy armour be as it hath beene,
Onely thy {valour}<valor> and thine innocence,
What endlesse treasures would our enemies giue,
That I might hold thee still thus{.}<!> 
M E L. I am poore in words, but credit me young man
Thy mother could do no more but weep, for ioy to see thee
After long absence{,}<:> all the wounds I haue,
Fetcht not so much away, nor all the cries
Of widdowed mothers: But this is peace<,>
And that was warre.
A M I N T. Pardon {thon}<thou> holy god
Of {marriage}<mariage> bed, and frowne not, I am {for'st}<forc'd>
In {answere}<answer> of such noble teares as {these}<those>,
To weepe vpon my wedding day.
M E L. I feare thou art growne too {cruell}<fickle>, for I heare
A Lady mournes for thee, men say to death,
Forsaken of thee, on what {tearmes}<termes> I know not.
A M I N T. She had my promise, but the King {forbad}<forbade> it,
And made me make this worthy change, thy sister
Accompanied with graces about her,
With whom I long to {loose}<lose> my lusty youth,
And grow {olde}<old> in her armes.
M E L. Be prosperous. 
              <Enter Messenger.>
{A M I N T.}<Messenger.> My Lord the maskers rage for you.
L I S. We are gone,
Cleon, Strato, Diphilus.
                    {Exeunt Lysippus, Cleon, Strato, Diphilus.}
A M I N T. Weele all attend you, we shall trouble you
With our solemnities.
M E L. Not so Amintor.
But if you laugh at my rude {carriage}<cariage>
In {sports}<peace>, {il'e}<Il'e> doe as much for you in warre
When you come thither{,}<:> but I haue a mistresse 
To bring to your delights, rough though I am,
I haue a mistresse and she has a heart
She saies, but trust me, it is stone, no better,
There is no place that I can challenge {gentlemen,}<:>
But you stand still, and here my way lies.           {Exeunt.}<Exit.>