Duke _of_ Genova. Shamont _his Favourite, a superstitious lover of reputation._ A passionate Lord, _the Duke's distracted kinsman._ A Soldier, _brother to_ Shamont. Lapet, _the cowardly Monsieur of_ Nice Valour. A Gallant _of the same Temper._ Pultrot, } _Two Mushroom_ Mombazon, } _Courtiers._ Two Brothers _to the Lady, affecting the passionate Lord_. Four Courtiers. Jester. A Priest } _In a Masque._ Six Women } Galoshio, _a Clown, such another try'd piece of Man's flesh_. WOMEN. Lady, _Sister to the Duke_, Shamont's _beloved_. Lapet's _Wife_. A Lady, _personating_ Cupid, _Mistriss to the mad Lord_. The Scene Genova. The PROLOGUE at the reviving of this Play. _It's grown in fashion of late in these days,_ _To come and beg a suff[eranc]e to our Plays_ _'Faith Gentlemen, our Poet ever writ_ _Language so good, mixt with such sprightly wit,_ _He made the Theatre so Sovereign_ _With his rare Scænes, he scorn'd this crouching vein:_ _We stabb'd him with keen daggers when we pray'd_ _Him write a Preface to a Play well made._ _He could not write these toyes, 'tw[a]s easier far,_ _To bring a Felon to appear at th' Barr_ _So much he hated baseness; which this day,_ _His Scænes will best convince you of in's Play._ _Actus Primus. Scæna Prima._ _Enter Duke_, Shamount, _and four Gentlemen_. _Duke. Shamount_, welcome; we have mist thee long, Though absent but two days: I hope your sports Answer your time and wishes. _Sham._ Very nobly Sir; We found game, worthy your delight my Lord, It was so royal. _Duke._ I've enough to hear on't. Prethee bestow't upon me in discourse. _1 Gent._ What is this Gentleman, Coz? you are a Courtier, Therefore know all their insides. _2 Gent._ No farther than the Taffaty goes, good Coz. For the most part, which is indeed the best part Of the most general inside; marry thus far I can with boldness speak this one mans character, And upon honor, pass it for a true one; He has that strength of manly merit in him, That it exceeds his Sovereigns power of gracing; He's faithfully true to valour, that he hates The man from _Cæsar's_ time, or farther off, That ever took disgrace unreveng'd: And if he chance to read his abject story, He tears his memory out; and holds it virtuous, Not to let shame have so much life amongst us; There is not such a curious piece of courage Amongst mans fellowship, or one so jealous Of honors loss, or repu[t]ations glory: There's so much perfect of his growing story. _1 Gent._ 'Twould make one dote on virtue as you tell it. _2 Gent._ I have told it to much loss, believe it Coz. _3 Gent._ How the Duke graces him! what is he brother?