_Chi._ Thou think'st each hour ten Till I be ferreting. _Prie._ You know I love ye. _Chi._ I will not be above an hour; let thy robe be readie And the door be kept. { _Knock._ Cleanthe { _knocks within_. _Prie._ Who knocks there? Yet more business? _Enter_ Cleanthe. _Chi._ Have ye more pensioners? the Princess woman? Nay then I'le stay a little, what game's a foot now? _Clean._ Now is the time. _Chi._ A rank bawd by this hand too, She grinds o' both sides: hey boyes. _Priest._ How, your Brother _Siphax_? Loves he the Princess? _Cle._ Deadlie, and you know He is a Gentleman descended noblie. _Chi._ But a rank knave as ever pist. _Cle._ Hold Mother, Here's more gold and some jewells. _Chi._ Here's no villany, I am glad I came toth' hearing. _Priest._ Alas Daughter, What would ye have me doe? _Chi._ Hold off ye old whore; There's more gold coming; all's mine, all. _Cle._ Do ye shrink now, Did ye not promise faithfully, and told me Through any danger? _Pri._ Any I can wade through. _Cle._ Ye shall and easily, the sin not seen neither, Here's for a better stole and a new vail mother: Come, ye shall be my friend. _Chi._ If all hit, hang me, I'le make ye richer than the Goddess. _Pri._ Say then, I am yours, what must I doe? _Cle._ I'th' morning But very early, will the Princess visit The Temple of the Goddess, being troubled With strange things that distract her: from the Oracle (Being strongly too in love) she will demand The Goddess pleasure, and a Man to cure her, That Oracle you give: describe my Brother, You know him perfectly. _Pri._ I have seen him often. _Cle._ And charge her take the next man she shall meet with When she comes out: you understand me. _Priest._ Well. _Cle._ Which shall be he attending; this is all, And easily without suspicion ended, Nor none dare disobey, 'tis Heaven that does it, And who dares cross it then, or once suspect it? The venture is most easie. _Pri._ I will doe it. _Cle._ As ye shall prosper? _Pri._ As I shall prosper. _Cle._ Take this too, and farewel; but first hark hither. _Chi._ What a young whore's this to betray her Mistris? A thousand Cuckolds shall that Husband be, That marries thee, thou art so mischievous. I'le put a spoak among your wheels. _Clean._ Be constant. _Priest._ 'Tis done. _Chi._ I'le doe no more at drop shot then. [_Exit_ Chilax. _Pri._ Farewel wench. [_Exeunt Priest and_ Cleanthe. _Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._ _Enter a Servant, and_ Stremon, _at the door_. _Servant._ He stirs, he stirs. _Strem._ Let him, I am ready for him, He shall not this day perish, if his passions May be fed with Musick; are they ready? _Enter_ Memnon. _Ser._ All, all: see where he comes.