The authors, or one of them, had also learned something of Shakespeare’s quaint humour, as appears in the remark: 

What should he be beheaded? we shall have it grow so base shortly,
gentlemen will be out of love with it. (II. iii.)

The main plot of the above reappears in Andromana, a play which was published in 1660 as ‘By J. S.’  It had probably never been performed when it was printed, and though the initials were possibly intended to suggest Shirley’s authorship, there can be little doubt that he was wholly innocent of its parentage.  An allusion to Denham’s Sophy places the date of composition after 1642.[306] The plot is taken direct from the Arcadia, the names being retained, and there is nothing to show that the author, whoever he may have been, knew anything of Cupid’s Revenge.  The story, however, is practically the same except for the addition of the episode of Plangus defeating the Argive rebels, and the omission of the character which appears as Urania in Beaumont and Fletcher’s play and as Palladius in the original romance.  The end is also slightly different.  After the prince has been rescued by the citizens, Andromana, the queen, plots a general massacre.  Plangus overhears her conversation with her instrument and confidant, and runs him through with his sword on the spot.  At Andromana’s cries the king enters, and she forthwith accuses the prince of attempting violence towards her; the king stabs his son, Andromana stabs the king, next the prince’s friend Inophilus, and finally herself.  She seems on the whole satisfied with this performance, and with her last breath exclaims: 

    I have lived long enough to boast an act,
    After which no mischief shall be new.

Little need be said of this play.  It is wholly lacking in distinction of any sort or kind, and the last act with the catastrophe is a mere piece of extravagant botching.  There are, however, here and there passages which are worth rescuing from the general wreck.  One of these is the opening of the first scene between Plangus and Andromana: 

    Plangus. It cannot be so late.

    Andromana. Believe ’t, the sun
    Is set, my dear, and candles have usurp’d
    The office of the day.

Plan. Indeed, methinks A certain mist, like darkness, hangs on my eye-lids.  But too great lustre may undo the sight:  A man may stare so long upon the sun That he may look his eyes out; and certainly ’Tis so with me:  I have so greedily Swallow’d thy light that I have spoil’d my own.

And. Why shouldst thou tempt me to my ruin thus?  As if thy presence were less welcome to me Than day to one who, ’tis so long ago He saw the sun, hath forgot what light is. (I. v.)

Occasional touches, too, are not without flavour: 

You can create me great, I know, sir,
But good you cannot.  You might compel,
Entice me too, perhaps, to sin.  But
Can you allay a gnawing conscience,
Or bind up bleeding reputation? (II. v. end.)