_Mem._ Alas poor Whore, Go, be a Whore still, and stink worse: _Ha, ha, ha_. [_Ex._ Cloe. What fools are these, and Coxcombs! [_Exit_ Memnon. _Eumen._ I am right glad yet, He takes it with such lightness. _1 Cap._ Me thinks his face too Is not so clouded as it was; how he looks! _Eume._ Where's your dead Rat? _2 Cap._ The Devil dine upon her Loins; why what a Medicine had he gotten To try a Whore! _Enter_ Stremon. _Stre._ Here's one from _Polydor_ stays to speak with ye. _Eume._ With whom? _Stre._ With all; where has the General been? He's laughing to himself extreamly. _Eumen._ Come, I'le tell thee how; I am glad yet he's so merry. [_Exeunt._ _Actus Quintus. Scena Prima._ _Enter_ Chilax _and Priestess_, Calis, _Lady and Nun_. _Chi._ What lights are those that enter there, still nearer? Plague o' your rotten itch, do you draw me hither Into the Temple to betray me? was there no place To satisfie your sin in? Gods forgive me, Still they come forward. _Priest._ Peace ye fool, I have found it, 'Tis the young Princess _Calis_. _Chi._ 'Tis the Devil, To claw us for our catterwawling. _Priest._ Retire softly, I did not look for you these two hours, Lady, Beshrew your hast: that way. [_To_ Chilax. _Chi._ That goes to the Altar! Ye old blind Beast. _Priest._ I know not, any way; Still they come nearer, I'le in to th' Oracle. _Chi._ That's well remembred I'le in with ye. _Priest._ Do. [_Exeunt Priest, and_ Chilax. _Enter_ Calis _and her Train with lights, singing:_ Lucippe, Cleanthe. SONG. _O fair sweet Goddess Queen of Loves,_ _Soft and gentle, as thy Doves,_ _Humble ey'd, and ever ruing_ _Those poor hearts, their Loves pursuing:_ _O thou Mother of delights,_ _Crowner of all happy nights,_ _Star of dear content, and pleasure,_ _Of mutual loves the endless treasure,_ _Accept this sacrifice we bring,_ _Thou continual youth and Spring,_ _Grant this Lady her desires,_ _And every hour we'll crown thy fires._ Enter a Nun. Nun. _You about her all retire,_ _Whilest the Princess feeds the fire,_ _When your Devotions ended be_ _To the Oracle I will attend ye._ [_Exit_ Nun and draws the Curtain close to _Calis_. _Enter_ Stremon _and_ Eumenes. _Strem._ He will abroad. _Eumen._ How does his humour hold him? _Stre._ He is now grown wondrous sad, weeps often too, Talks of his Brother to himself, starts strangely. _Eumen._ Does he not curse? _Strem._ No. _Eumen._ Nor break out in fury, Offering some new attempt? _Strem._ Neither; to th' Temple Is all we hear of now: what there he will do-- _Eumen._ I hope repent his folly, let's be near him.