Beaumont Francis Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (3 of 10): The Loyal Subject
Actus Quartus. Scena Prima
Enter Olympia with a Casket, and Alinda
Al. Madam, the Duke has sent for the two Ladies.
Olym. I prethee go: I know thy thoughts are with him. Go, go Alinda, do not mock me more. I have found thy heart wench, do not wrong thy Mistris, Thy too much loving Mistris: do not abuse her.
Al. By your own fair hands I understand ye not.
Olym. By thy own fair eyes I understand thee too much, Too far, and built a faith there thou hast ruin'd. Goe, and enjoy thy wish, thy youth, thy pleasure, Enjoy the greatness no doubt he has promised, Enjoy the service of all eyes that see thee, The glory thou hast aim'd at, and the triumph: Only this last love I ask, forget thy Mistris.
Al. Oh, who has wrong'd me? who has ruin'd me? Poor wretched Girle, what poyson is flung on thee? Excellent vertue, from whence flows this anger?
Ol. Go, ask my Brother, ask the faith thou gav'st me, Ask all my favours to thee, ask my love, Last, thy forgetfulness of good: then flye me, For we must part Alinda.
Al. You are weary of me; I must confess, I was never worth your service, Your bounteous favours less; but that my duty, My ready will, and all I had to serve ye — O Heaven thou know'st my honestie.
Olym. No more: Take heed, heaven has a justice: take this ring with ye, This doting spell you gave me: too well Alinda, Thou knew'st the vertue in't; too well I feel it: Nay keep that too, it may sometimes remember ye, When you are willing to forget who gave it, And to what vertuous end.
Al. Must I goe from ye? Of all the sorrows sorrow has – must I part with ye? Part with my noble Mistris?
Olym. Or I with thee wench.
Al. And part stain'd with opinion? Farewel Lady, Happy and blessed Lady, goodness keep ye: Thus your poor Servant full of grief turns from ye, For ever full of grief, for ever from ye. I have no being now, no friends, no Country, I wander heaven knows whither, heaven knows how. No life, now you are lost: only mine innocence, That little left me of my self, goes with me, That's all my bread and comfort. I confess Madam, Truely confess, the Duke has often courted me.
Olym. And pour'd his Soul into thee, won thee.
Al. Do you think so? Well, time that told this tale, will tell my truth too, And say ye had a faithfull, honest Servant: The business of my life is now to pray for ye, Pray for your vertuous loves; Pray for your children, When Heaven shall make ye happy.
Olym. How she wounds me! Either I am undone, or she must go: take these with ye, Some toyes may doe ye service; and this mony; And when ye want, I love ye not so poorly, Not yet Alinda, that I would see ye perish. Prethee be good, and let me hear: look on me, I love those eyes yet dearly; I have kiss'd thee, And now I'le doe't again: Farewel Alinda, I am too full to speak more, and too wretched. [Exit.
Al. You have my faith, And all the world my fortune. [Exit.
SCENA II
Enter Theodor
The. I would fain hear What becomes of these two Wenches: And if I can, I will doe 'em good.
Enter Gentleman, passing over the Stage
Do you hear my honest friend? He knows no such name: What a world of business, Which by interpretation are meer nothings, These things have here! 'Mass now I think on't better, I wish he be not sent for one of them To some of these by-lodgings: me thought I saw A kind of reference in his face to Bawderie.
Enter Gentleman, with a Gentlewoman, passing over the Stage
He has her, but 'tis none of them: hold fast thief: An excellent touzing knave. Mistris You are to suffer your penance some half hour hence now. How far a fine Court Custard with Plums in it Will prevail with one of these waiting Gentlewomen, They are taken with these soluble things exceedingly; This is some yeoman o'th' bottles now that has sent for her, That she calls Father: now woe to this Ale incense. By your leave Sir.
Enter a Servant
Ser. Well Sir; what's your pleasure with me?
The. You do not know the way to the maids lodgings?
Ser. Yes indeed do I Sir.
The. But you will not tell me?
Ser. No indeed will not I, because you doubt it. [Exit.
Enter 2 Servant
The. These are fine gim-cracks: hey, here comes another, A Flagon full of wine in's hand, I take it. Well met my friend, is that wine?
2 Ser. Yes indeed is it.
The. Faith I'le drink on't then.
2 Ser. Ye may, because ye have sworn Sir.
The. 'Tis very good, I'le drink a great deal now Sir.
2 Ser. I cannot help it Sir.
The. I'le drink more yet.
2 Ser. 'Tis in your own hands.
The. There's your pot, I thank ye. Pray let me drink again.
2 Ser. Faith but ye shall not. Now have I sworn I take it. Fare ye well Sir. [Exit.
Enter Lady
The. This is the fin'st place to live in I e're enter'd. Here comes a Gentlewoman, and alone; I'le to her. Madam, my Lord my Master.
Lady. Who's your Lord Sir?
The. The Lord Boroskey, Lady.
Lady. Pray excuse me: Here's something for your pains: within this hour Sir, One of the choice young Ladies shall attend him: Pray let it be in that Chamber juts out to the water; 'Tis private and convenient: doe my humble service To my honourable good Lord, I beseech ye Sir; If it please you to visit a poor Lady — You carrie the 'haviour of a noble Gentleman.
The. I shall be bold.
Lady. 'Tis a good aptness in ye. I lye here in the Wood-yard, the blue lodgings Sir; They call me merrily the Lady of the – Sir; A little I know what belongs to a Gentleman, And if it please you take the pains. [Exit.
The. Dear Lady, take the pains? Why a horse would not take the pains that thou requir'st now, To cleave old crab-tree: one of the choice young Ladies? I would I had let this Bawd goe, she has frighted me; I am cruelly afraid of one of my Tribe now; But if they will doe, the Devil cannot stop 'em. Why should he have a young Lady? are women now O'th' nature of Bottles, to be stopt with Corks? O the thousand little furies that flye here now! How now Captain?
Enter Putsky
Puts. I come to seek you out Sir, And all the Town I have travell'd.
The. What's the news man?
Puts. That that concerns us all, and very nearly: The Duke this night holds a great feast at Court, To which he bids for guests all his old Counsellors, And all his favourites: your Father's sent for.
The. Why he is neither in council, nor in favour.
Pu. That's it: have an eye now, or never, and a quick one, An eye that must not wink from good intelligence. I heard a Bird sing, they mean him no good office.
Enter Ancient
The. Art sure he sups here?
Puts. Sure as 'tis day.
The. 'Tis like then: How now, where hast thou been Ancient?
Anc. Measuring the City: I have left my Brooms at gate here; By this time the Porter has stole 'em to sweep out Rascals.
Theod. Bro[o]ms?
Anc. I have been crying Brooms all the town over, And such a Mart I have made, there's no tread near it. O the young handsom wenches, how they twitter'd, When they but saw me shake my ware, and sing too; Come hither Master Broom-man I beseech ye: Good Master Broom-man hither, cries another.
The. Thou art a mad fellow.
Anc. They are all as mad as I: they all have tra[de]s now, And roar about the streets like Bull-beggers. The. What company of Souldiers are they?
Anc. By this means I have gather'd Above a thousand tall and hardy Souldiers, If need be Colonel.
The. That need's come Ancient, And 'twas discreetly done: goe, draw 'em presently, But without suspicion: this night we shall need 'em; Let 'em be near the Court, let Putskie guide 'em; And wait me for occasion: here I'le stay still.
Puts. If it fall out we are ready; if not we are scatter'd: I'le wait ye at an inch.
The. Doe, Farewel. [Exeunt.
SCENA III
Enter Duke, Borosky
Duke. Are the Souldiers still so mutinous?
Bor. More than ever, No Law nor Justice frights 'em: all the Town over They play new pranks and gambols: no mans person, Of what degree soever, free from abuses: And durst they doe this, (let your grace consider) These monstrous, most offensive things, these villanies, If not set on, and fed? if not by one They honour more than you? and more aw'd by him?
Duke. Happily their own wants.
Boros. I offer to supply 'em, And every hour make tender of their moneys: They scorn it, laugh at me that offer it: I fear the next device will be my life Sir; And willingly I'le give it, so they stay there.
Duke. Do you think Lord Archas privie?
Bor. More than thought, I know it Sir, I know they durst not doe These violent rude things, abuse the State thus, But that they have a hope by his ambitions —
Duke. No more: he's sent for?
Boros. Yes, and will be here sure.
Duke. Let me talk further with you anon.
Boros. I'le wait Sir.
Duke. Did you speak to the Ladies?
Boros. They'l attend your grace presently.
Duke. How do you like 'em?
Boros. My eyes are too dull Judges. They wait here Sir. [Exit.
Enter Honora, and Viola
Duke. Be you gone then: Come in Ladies, Welcom to th' court sweet beauties; now the court shines, When such true beams of beauty strike amongst us: Welcom, welcom, even as your own joyes welcom. How do you like the Court? how seems it to you? Is't not a place created for all sweetness? Why were you made such strangers to this happiness? Barr'd the delights this holds? the richest jewels Set ne're so well, if then not worn to wonder, By judging eyes not set off, lose their lustre: Your Country shades are faint; blasters of beauty; The manners like the place, obscure and heavie; The Rose buds of the beauties turn to cankers, Eaten with inward thoughts: whilst there ye wander. Here Ladies, here, you were not made for Cloisters, Here is the Sphere you move in: here shine nobly, And by your powerfull influence command all: What a sweet modestie dwells round about 'em, And like a nipping morn pulls in their blossoms?
Hon. Your grace speaks cunningly, you doe not this, I hope Sir, to betray us; we are poor triumphs; Nor can our loss of honour adde to you Sir: Great men, and great thoughts, seek things great and worthy, Subjects to make 'em live, and not to lose 'em; Conquests so nobly won, can never perish; We are two simple maids, untutor'd here Sir; Two honest maids, is that a sin at Court Sir? Our breeding is obedience, but to good things, To vertuous and to fair: what wou'd you win on us? Why do I ask that question, when I have found ye? Your Preamble has pour'd your heart out to us; You would dishonour us; which in your translation Here at the Court reads thus, your grace would love us, Most dearly love us: stick us up for mistresses: Most certain, there are thousands of our sex Sir That would be glad of this, and handsom women, And crowd into this favour, fair young women, Excellent beauties Sir: when ye have enjoy'd 'em, And suckt those sweets they have, what Saints are these then? What worship have they won? what name you ghess Sir, What storie added to their time, a sweet one?
Duke. A brave spirited wench.
Hon. I'le tell your grace, And tell ye true: ye are deceiv'd in us two, Extreamly cozen'd Sir: And yet in my eye You are the handsomst man I ever lookt on, The goodliest Gentleman; take that hope with ye; And were I fit to be your wife (so much I honour ye) Trust me I would scratch for ye but I would have ye. I would wooe you then.
Duke. She amazes me: But how am I deceiv'd?
Hon. O we are too honest, Believe it Sir, too honest, far too honest, The way that you propound too ignorant, And there is no medling with us; for we are fools too, Obstinate, peevish fools: if I would be ill, And had a wantons itch, to kick my heels up, I would not leap into th' Sun, and doe't there, That all the world might see me: an obscure shade Sir, Dark as the deed, there is no trusting light with it, Nor that that's lighter far, vain-glorious greatness.
Duke. You will love me as your friend?
Ho[n]. I will honour ye, As your poor humble handmaid serve, and pray for ye.
Du. What sayes my little one; you are not so obstinate? Lord how she blushes: here are truly fair souls: Come you will be my love?
Viol. Good Sir be good to me, Indeed I'le doe the best I can to please ye; I do beseech your grace: Alas I fear ye.
Duke. What shouldst thou fear?
Hon. Fie Sir, this is not noble.
Duke. Why do I stand entreating, where my power —
Hon. You have no power, at least you ought to have none In bad and beastly things: arm'd thus, I'le dye here, Before she suffer wrong.
Duke. Another Archas?
Hon. His child Sir, and his spirit.
Duke. I'le deal with you then, For here's the honour to be won: sit down sweet, Prethee Honora sit.
Hon. Now ye intreat I will Sir.
Duke. I doe, and will deserve it.
Hon. That's too much kindness.
Duke. Prethee look on me.
Hon. Yes: I love to see ye, And could look on an age thus, and admire ye: Whilst ye are good and temperate I dare touch ye, Kiss your white hand.
Duke. Why not my lips?
Hon. I dare Sir.
Duke. I do not think ye dare.
Hon. I am no coward. D[o] you believe me now? or now? or now Sir? You make me blush: but sure I mean no ill Sir: It had been fitter you had kiss'd me.
Du. That I'le doe too. What hast thou wrought into me?
Hon. I hope all goodness: Whilst ye are thus, thus honest, I dare do any thing, Thus hang about your neck, and thus doat on ye; Bless those fair lights: hell take me if I durst not — But good Sir pardon me. Sister come hither, Come hither, fear not wench: come hither, blush not, Come kiss the Prince, the vertuous Prince, the good Prince: Certain he is excellent honest.
Du. Thou wilt make me —
Hon. Sit down, and hug him softly.
Du. Fie Honora, Wanton Honora; is this the modesty, The noble chastity your on-set shew'd me, At first charge beaten back? Away.
Hon. Thank ye: Upon my knees I pray, heaven too may thank ye; Ye have deceiv'd me cunningly, yet nobly Ye have cozen'd me: In all your hopefull life yet, A Scene of greater honour you ne're acted: I knew fame was a lyar, too long, and loud tongu'd, And now I have found it: O my vertuous Master.
Viol. My vertuous Master too.
Hon. Now you are thus, What shall become of me let fortune cast for't.
Enter Alinda
Du. I'le be that fortune, if I live Honora, Thou hast done a cure upon me, counsel could not.
Al. Here take your ring Sir, and whom ye mean to ruine, Give it to her next; I have paid for't dearly.
Hon. A Ring to her?
Du. Why frowns my fair Alinda? I have forgot both these again.
Al. Stand still Sir, Ye have that violent killing fire upon ye, Consumes all honour, credit, faith.
Hon. How's this?
Al. My Royal Mistris favour towards me, Woe-worth ye Sir, ye have poyson'd, blasted.
Duke. I sweet?
Al. You have taken that unmanly liberty, Which in a worse man, is vain glorious feigning, And kill'd my truth.
Du. Upon my life 'tis false wench.
Al. Ladies, Take heed, ye have a cunning gamester, A handsom, and a high; come stor'd with Antidotes, He has infections else will fire your blouds.
Du. Prethee Alinda hear me.
Al. Words steept in hony, That will so melt into your minds, buy Chastity, A thousand wayes, a thousand knots to tie ye; And when he has bound ye his, a thousand ruines. A poor lost woman ye have made me.
Du. I'le maintain thee, And nobly too.
Al. That Gin's too weak to take me: Take heed, take heed young Ladies: still take heed, Take heed of promises, take heed of gifts, Of forced feigned sorrows, sighs, take heed.
Du. By all that's mine, Alinda—
Al. Swear By your mischiefs: O whither shall I goe?
Duke. Go back again, I'le force her take thee, love thee.
Alin. Fare ye well, Sir, I will not curse ye; only this dwell with ye, When ever ye love, a false belief light on ye. [Exit.
Hon. We'll take our leaves too, Sir.
Duke. Part all the world now, Since she is gone.
Hon. You are crooked yet, dear Master, And still I fear – [Exeunt.
Duke. I am vext, And some shall find it. [Exit.
SCENE IV
Enter Archas and a Servant
Ar. 'Tis strange To me to see the Court, and welcome: O Royal place, how have I lov'd and serv'd thee? Who lies on this side, know'st thou?
Ser. The Lord Burris.
Ar. Thou hast nam'd a Gentleman I stand much bound to: I think he sent the Casket, Sir?
Ser. The same, Sir.
Ar. An honest minded man, a noble Courtier: The Duke made perfect choice when he took him. Go you home, I shall hit the way Without a guide now.
Ser. You may want something, Sir.
Ar. Only my Horses, Which after Supper let the Groom wait with: I'le have no more attendance here.
Ser. Your will, Sir. [Exit.
Enter Theodore
Theo. You are well met here, Sir.
Ar. How now boy, How dost thou?
The. I should ask You that question: how do you, Sir? How do you feel your self?
Ar. Why well, and lusty.
The. What do you here then?
Ar. Why I am sent for To Supper with the Duke.
The. Have you no meat at home? Or do you long to feed as hunted Deer do, In doubt and fear?
Ar. I have an excellent stomach, And can I use it better Than among my friends, Boy? How do the Wenches?
The. They do well enough, Sir, They know the worst by this time: pray be rul'd, Sir, Go home again, and if ye have a Supper, Eat it in quiet there: this is no place for ye, Especially at this time, Take my word for't.
Ar. May be they'll drink hard; I could have drunk my share, Boy. Though I am old, I will not out.
The. I hope you will. Hark in your ear: the Court's Too quick of hearing.
Ar. Not mean me well? Thou art abus'd and cozen'd. Away, away.
The. To that end Sir, I tell ye. Away, if you love your self.
Ar. Who dare do these things, That ever heard of honesty?
The. Old Gentleman, Take a fools counsel.
Ar. 'Tis a fools indeed; A very fools: thou hast more of These flams in thee, these musty doubts: Is't fit the Duke send for me, And honour me to eat within his presence, And I, like a tale fellow, play at bo-peep With his pleasure?
The. Take heed Of bo-peep with your pate, your pate, Sir, I speak plain language now.
Ar. If 'twere not here, Where reverence bids me hold, I would so swinge thee, thou rude, Unmanner'd Knave; take from his bounty, His honour that he gives me, to beget Sawcy, and sullen fears?
The. You are not mad sure: By this fair light, I speak But what is whisper'd, And whisper'd for a truth.
Ar. A Dog: drunken people, That in their Pot see visions, And turn states, mad-men and Children: Prethee do not follow me; I tell thee I am angry: Do not follow me.
The. I am as angry As you for your heart, I and as wilful too: go, like a Wood-cock, And thrust your neck i'th' noose.
Ar. I'le kill thee, And thou speakst but three words more. Do not follow me. [Exit.
The. A strange old foolish fellow: I shall hear yet, And if I do not my part, hiss at me. [Exit.
SCENE V
Enter two Servants preparing a Banquet
1 Serv. Believe me fellow here will be lusty drinking. Many a washt pate in Wine I warrant thee.
2 Ser. I am glad the old General's come: upon my Conscience That joy will make half the Court drunk. Hark the Trumpets, They are coming on; away.
1 Ser. We'll have a rowse too. [Exeunt.
Enter Duke, Archas, Burris, Boroskie, Attend. Gent
Duke. Come seat your selves: Lord Archas sit you there.
Ar. 'Tis far above my worth.
Duke. I'le have it so: Are all things ready?
Bor. All the Guards are set, The Court Gates are shut.
Duke. Then do as I prescrib'd ye. Be sure no further.
Bor. I shall well observe ye.
Du. Come bring some wine: here's to my Sister, Gentlemen; A health, and mirth to all.
Ar. Pray fill it full, Sir. 'Tis a high health to vertue: here Lord Burris, A maiden health: you are most fit to pledge it, You have a maiden soul and much I honour it. Passion o' me, ye are sad man.
Duke. How now, Burris? Go to, no more of this.
Ar. Take the rowse freely, 'Twill warm your bloud, and make ye fit for jollity. Your Graces pardon: when we get a cup, Sir, We old men prate a pace.
Du. Mirth makes a Banquet; As you love me no more.
Bur. I thank your Grace. Give me it; Lord Boroskie.
Boros. I have ill brains, Sir.
Bur. Damnable ill, I know it.
Boros. But I'le pledge, Sir, This vertuous health.
Bur. The more unfit for thy mouth.
Enter two Servants with Cloaks
Du. Come, bring out Robes, and let my guests look nobly, Fit for my love and presence: begin downward. Off with your Cloaks, take new.
Ar. Your grace deals truly, Like a munificent Prince, with your poor subjects, Who would not fight for you? what cold dull coward Durst seek to save his life when you would ask it? Begin a new health in your new adornments, The Dukes, the Royal Dukes: ha! what have I got Sir? ha! the Robe of death?
Du. You have deserv'd it.
Ar. The Livery of the Grave? do you start all from me? Do I smell of earth already? Sir, look on me, And like a man; is this your entertainment? Do you bid your worthiest guests to bloudy Banquets?
Enter a Guard
A Guard upon me too? this is too foul play Boy to thy good, thine honour: thou wretched Ruler, Thou Son of fools and flatterers, Heir of hypocrites, Am I serv'd in a Hearse that sav'd ye all? Are ye men or Devils? Do ye gape upon me, Wider, and swallow all my services? Entomb them first, my faith next, then my integrity, And let these struggle with your mangy minds, Your sear'd, and seal'd up Consciences, till they burst.
Boros. These words are death.
Ar. No those deeds that want rewards, Sirrah, Those Battels I have fought, those horrid dangers, Leaner than death, and wilder than destruction, I have march'd upon, these honour'd wounds, times story, The bloud I have lost, the youth, the sorrows suffer'd, These are my death, these that can ne're be recompenced, These that ye sit a brooding on like Toads, Sucking from my deserts the sweets and favours, And render me no pay again but poysons.
Bor. The proud vain Souldier thou hast set —
Ar. Thou lyest. Now by my little time of life lyest basely, Malitiously and loudly: how I scorn thee! If I had swel'd the Souldier, or intended An act in person, leaning to dishonour, As ye would fain have forced me, witness Heaven, Where clearest understanding of all truth is, (For these are spightful men, and know no piety) When Olin came, grim Olin, when his marches, His last Incursions made the City sweat, And drove before him, as a storm drives Hail, Such showrs of frosted fears, shook all your heart-strings; Then when the Volga trembled at his terrour, And hid his seven curl'd heads, afraid of bruising, By his arm'd Horses hoofs; had I been false then, Or blown a treacherous fire into the Souldier, Had but one spark of villany liv'd within me, Ye'ad had some shadow for this black about me. Where was your Souldiership? why went not you out? And all your right honourable valour with ye? Why met ye not the Tartar, and defi'd him? Drew your dead-doing sword, and buckl'd with him? Shot through his Squadrons like a fiery Meteor? And as we see a dreadful clap of Thunder Rend the stiffhearted Oaks, and toss their roots up: Why did not you so charge him? you were sick then, You that dare taint my credit slipt to bed then, Stewing and fainting with the fears ye had, A whorson shaking fit opprest your Lordship: Blush Coward, Knave, and all the world hiss at thee.
Du. Exceed not my command. [Exit.
Bor. I shall observe it.
Ar. Are you gone too? Come weep not honest Burris, Good loving Lord, no more tears: 'tis not his malice, This fellows malice, nor the Dukes displeasure, By bold bad men crowded into his nature, Can startle me: fortune ne're raz'd this Fort yet: I am the same, the same man, living, dying; The same mind to 'em both, I poize thus equal; Only the jugling way that toll'd me to it, The Judas way, to kiss me, bid me welcome, And cut my throat, a little sticks upon me. Farewel, commend me to his Grace, and tell him, The world is full of servants, he may have many: And some I wish him honest: he's undone else: But such another doating Archas never, So try'd and touch'd a faith: farewell for ever.
Bur. Be strong my Lord: you must not go thus lightly.
Ar. Now, what's to do? what sayes the Law unto me? Give me my great offence that speaks me guil[t]y.
Bor. Laying aside a thousand petty matters, As scorns, and insolencies both from your self and followers, Which you put first fire to, and these are deadly, I come to one main cause, which though it carries A strangeness in the circumstance, it carries death too, Not to be pardon'd neither: ye have done a sacriledge.
Ar. High Heaven defend me man: how, how Boroskie?
Bor. Ye have took from the Temple those vow'd Arms, The holy Ornament you hung up there, No absolution of your vow, no order From holy Church to give 'em back unto you After they were purified from War, and rested From bloud, made clean by ceremony: from the Altar You snatch'd 'em up again, again ye wore 'em, Again you stain'd 'em, stain'd your vow, the Church too, And rob'd it of that right was none of yours, Sir, For which the Law requires your head, ye know it.
Ar. Those arms I fought in last?
Bor. The same.
Ar. God a mercy, Thou hast hunted out a notable cause to kill me: A subtle one: I dye, for saving all you; Good Sir, remember if you can, the necessity, The suddenness of time, the state all stood in; I was entreated to, kneel'd to, and pray'd to, The Duke himself, the Princes, all the Nobles, The cries of Infants, Bed-rid Fathers, Virgins; Prethee find out a better cause, a handsomer, This will undo thee too: people will spit at thee, The Devil himself would be asham'd of this cause; Because my haste made me forget the ceremony, The present danger every where, must my life satisfie?
Bor. It must, and shall.
Ar. O base ungrateful people, Have ye no other Swords to cut my throat with But mine own nobleness? I confess, I took 'em, The vow not yet absolv'd I hung 'em up with: Wore 'em, fought in 'em, gilded 'em again In the fierce Tartars blouds; for you I took 'em, For your peculiar safety, Lord, for all, I wore 'em for my Countries health, that groan'd then: Took from the Temple, to preserve the Temple; That holy place, and all the sacred monuments, The reverent shrines of Saints, ador'd and honour'd, Had been consum'd to ashes, their own sacrifice; Had I been slack, or staid that absolution, No Priest had liv'd to give it; my own honour, Cure of my Country murder me?
Bor. No, no Sir, I shall force that from ye, will make this cause light too, Away with him: I shall pluck down that heart, Sir.
Ar. Break it thou mayest; but if it bend, for pity, Doggs, and Kites eat it: come I am honours Martyr. [Ex.
SCENE VI
Enter Duke, and Burris
Du. Exceed my Warrant?
Bur. You know he loves him not.
Du. He dares as well eat death, as do it, eat wild-fire, Through a few fears I mean to try his goodness, That I may find him fit, to wear here, Burris; I know Boroskie hates him, to death hates him, I know he's a Serpent too, a swoln one, [Noise within. But I have pull'd his sting out: what noise is that?
The. within. Down with 'em, down with 'em, down with the gates.
Sold. within. Stand, stand, stand.
Puts. within. Fire the Palace before ye.
Bur. Upon my life the Souldier, Sir, the Souldier, A miserable time is come.
Enter Gentleman
Gent. Oh save him, Upon my knees, my hearts knees, save Lord Archas, We are undone else.
Du. Dares he touch his Body?
Gent. He racks him fearfully, most fearfully.
Du. Away Burris, Take men, and take him from him; clap him up, And if I live, I'll find a strange death for him. [Ex. Bur. Are the Souldiers broke in?
Gent. By this time sure they are, Sir, They beat the Gates extreamly, beat the people.
Du. Get me a guard about me; make sure the lodgings, And speak the Souldiers fair.
Gent. Pray Heaven that take, Sir. [Exeunt.
Enter Putskie, Ancient, Souldiers, with Torches
Puts. Give us the General, we'll fire the Court else, Render him safe and well.
Anc. Do not fire the Cellar, There's excellent Wine in't, Captain, and though it be cold weather, I do not love it mull'd; bring out the General, We'll light ye such a Bone-fire else: where are ye? Speak, or we'll toss your Turrets, peep out of your Hives, We'll smoak ye else: Is not that a Nose there? Put out that Nose again, and if thou dar'st But blow it before us: now he creeps out on's Burrough.
Enter Gentleman
Puts. Give us the General.
Gent. Yes, Gentlemen; Or any thing ye can desire.
Anc. You musk-cat, Cordevant-skin we will not take your answer.
Puts. Where is the Duke? speak suddenly, and send him hither.
Anc. Or we'll so frye your Buttocks.
Gent. Good sweet Gentlemen —
Anc. We are neither good nor sweet, we are Souldiers, And you miscreants that abuse the General. Give fire my Boys, 'tis a dark Evening, Let's light 'em to their lodgings.
Enter Olympia, Honora, Viola, Theodore, Women
Hon. Good Brother be not fierce.
The. I will not hurt her, Fear not sweet Lady.
Olym. Nay, do what you please, Sir, I have a sorrow that exceeds all yours, And more, contemns all danger.
Enter Duke, above
The. Where is the Duke?
Du. He's here; what would ye Souldiers? wherefore troop ye Like mutinous mad-men thus?
The. Give me my Father.
Puts. Anc. Give us our General.
The. Set him here before us, Ye see the pledge we have got; ye see the Torches; All shall to ashes, as I live, immediately, A thousand lives for one.
Du. But hear me?
Puts. No, we come not to dispute.
Enter Archas, and Burris
The. By Heaven I swear he's rackt and whipt.
Hon. Oh my poor Father!
Puts. Burn, kill and burn.
Arc. Hold, hold, I say: hold Souldiers, On your allegiance hold.
The. We must not.
Arc. Hold: I swear by Heaven he is a barbarous Traitor stirs first, A Villain, and a stranger to Obedience, Never my Souldier more, nor Friend to Honour: Why did you use your old Man thus? thus cruelly Torture his poor weak Body? I ever lov'd ye.
Du. Forget me in these wrongs, most noble Archas.
Arc. I have balm enough for all my hurts: weep no more Sir A satisfaction for a thousand sorrows; I do believe you innocent, a good man, And Heaven forgive that naughty thing that wrong'd me: Why look ye wild, my friends? why stare ye on me? I charge ye, as ye are men, my men, my lovers, As ye are honest faithful men, fair Souldiers, Let down your anger: Is not this our Soveraign? The head of mercy, and of Law? who dares then, But Rebels, scorning Law, appear thus violent? Is this a place for Swords? for threatning fires? The Reverence of this House dares any touch, But with obedient knees, and pious duties? Are we not all his Subjects? all sworn to him? Has not he power to punish our offences? And do we not daily fall into 'em? assure your selves I did offend, and highly, grievously, This good, sweet Prince I offended, my life forfeited, Which yet his mercy and his old love met with, And only let me feel his light rod this way: Ye are to thank him for your General, Pray for his life and fortune; swear your bloods for him. Ye are offenders too, daily offenders, Proud insolencies dwell in your hearts, and ye do 'em, Do 'em against his Peace, his Law, his Person; Ye see he only sorrows for your sins, And where his power might persecute, forgives ye: For shame put up your Swords, for honesty, For orders sake, and whose ye are, my Souldiers, Be not so rude.
The. They have drawn blood from you, Sir.
Arc. That was the blood rebell'd, the naughty blood, The proud provoking blood; 'tis well 'tis out, Boy; Give you example first; draw out, and orderly.
Hon. Good Brother, do.
Arc. Honest and high example, As thou wilt have my Blessing follow thee, Inherit all mine honours: thank ye Theodore, My worthy Son.
The. If harm come, thank your self, Sir, I must obey ye. [Exit.
Arc. Captain, you know the way now: A good man, and a valiant, you were ever, Inclin'd to honest things; I thank ye, Captain. [Ex. Soul. Souldiers, I thank ye all: and love me still, But do not love me so you lose Allegiance, Love that above your lives: once more I thank ye.
Du. Bring him to rest, and let our cares wait on him; Thou excellent old man, thou top of honour, Where Justice, and Obedience only build, Thou stock of Vertue, how am I bound to love thee! In all thy noble ways to follow thee!
Bur. Remember him that vext him, Sir.
Du. Remember? When I forget that Villain, and to pay him For all his mischiefs, may all good thoughts forget me.
Arc. I am very sore.
Du. Bring him to Bed with ease, Gentlemen, For every stripe I'll drop a tear to wash 'em, And in my sad Repentance —
Arc. 'Tis too much, I have a life yet left to gain that love, Sir. [Exeunt.
