The Maid's Tragedy HTML version
Enter Cleon, Strato, Lysippus, Diphilus.
Cleon. The rest are making ready Sir.
Strat. So let them, there's time enough.
Diph. You are the brother to the King, my Lord,
we'll take your word.
Lys. Strato, thou hast some skill in Poetry, What
thinkst thou of a Mask? will it be well?
Strat. As well as Mask can be.
Lys. As Mask can be?
Strat. Yes, they must commend their King, and speak
in praise of the Assembly, bless the Bride and
Bridegroom, in person of some God; th'are tyed
to rules of flattery.
Cle. See, good my Lord, who is return'd!
Lys. Noble Melantius!
The Land by me welcomes thy vertues home to Rhodes,
thou that with blood abroad buyest us our peace; the
breath of King is like the breath of Gods; My brother
wisht thee here, and thou art here; he will be too kind,
and weary thee with often welcomes; but the time doth
give thee a welcome above this or all the worlds.
Mel. My Lord, my thanks; but these scratcht limbs of mine have
spoke my love and truth unto my friends, more than my
tongue ere could: my mind's the same it ever was to you;
where I find worth, I love the keeper, till he let it go,
And then I follow it.
Diph. Hail worthy brother!
He that rejoyces not at your return
In safety, is mine enemy for ever.