_Du._ Seal it _Burris_, We'l all to Church together instantly: And then a vie for boyes; stay, bring _Boroskie_. _Enter_ Boroskie. I had almost forgot that lump of mischief. There _Archas_, take the enemie to honour, The knave to worth: do with him what thou wilt. _Ar._ Then to my sword again; you to your prayers; Wash off your villanies, you feel the burthen. _Bor._ Forgive me e're I die, most honest _Archas_; 'Tis too much honour that I perish thus; O strike my faults to kill them, that no memorie, No black and blasted infamy hereafter---- _Ar._ Come, are ye ready? _Bor._ Yes. _Ar._ And truly penitent, to make your way straight? _Bor._ Thus I wash off my sins. _Ar._ Stand up, and live then, And live an honest man; I scorn mens ruines: Take him again, Sir, trie him: and believe This thing will be a perfect man. _Du._ I take him. _Bor._ And when I fail those hopes, heavens hopes fail me. _Du._ You are old: no more wars Father: _Theodore_ take you the charge, be General. _The._ All good bless ye. _Du._ And my good Father, you dwell in my bosom, From you rise all my good thoughts: when I would think And examine time for one that's fairly noble, And the same man through all the streights of vertue, Upon this Silver book I'le look, and read him. Now forward merrily to _Hymens_ rites, To joyes, and revels, sports, and he that can Most honour _Archas_, is the noblest man. [_Exeunt._ Prologue. _We need not noble Gentlemen to invite Attention, preinstruct you who did write This worthy Story, being confident The mirth join'd with grave matter, and Intent To yield the hearers profit, with delight, Will speak the maker: and to do him right, Would ask a Genius like to his; the age Mourning his loss, and our now widdowed stage In vain lamenting. I could adde, so far Behind him the most modern writers are, That when they would commend him, their best praise Ruins the buildings which they strive to raise To his best memory, so much a friend Presumes to write, secure 'twill not offend The living that are modest, with the rest That may repine he cares not to contest. This debt to_ Fletcher _paid; it is profest By us the Actors, we will do our best To send such favouring friends, as hither come To grace the Scene, pleas'd, and contented home._ Epilogue. _Though something well assur'd, few here repent Three hours of pretious time, or money spent On our endeavours, Yet not to relye Too much upon our care, and industrie, 'Tis fit we should ask, but a modest way How you approve our action in the play. If you vouchsafe to crown it with applause, It is your bountie, and you give us cause Hereafter with a general consent To study, as becomes us, your content._ * * * * *