A King and no King by John Fletcher and Francis Beaumont - HTML preview

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_Arb_.

Dare you reprove it?

_Mar_.

No.

_Arb_.

You must be crossing me.

_Mar_.

I have no letters Sir to anger you,

But a dry sonnet of my Corporals

To an old Suttlers wife, and that I'll burn, Sir.

'Tis like to prove a fine age for the Ignorant.

_Arb_.

How darst thou so often forfeit thy life?

Thou know'st 'tis in my power to take it.

_Mar_.

Yes, and I know you wo'not, or if you doe, you'll miss it quickly.

_Arb_.

Why?

_Mar_.

Who shal tel you of these childish fol ies When I am dead? who shall put to his power To draw those vertues out of a flood of humors, When they are drown'd, and make'em shine again?

No, cut my head off:

Then you may talk, and be believed, and grow worse, And have your too self-glorious temper rot Into a deep sleep, and the Kingdom with you, Till forraign swords be in your throats, and slaughter Be every where about you like your flatterers.

Do, kill me.

_Arb_.

Prethee be tamer, good _Mardonius,_

Thou know'st I love thee, nay I honour thee, Believe it good old Souldier, I am thine; But I am rack'd clean from my self, bear with me, Woot thou bear with me my _Mardonius?_

_Enter_ Gobrias.

_Mar_.

There comes a good man, love him too, he's temperate, You may live to have need of such a vertue, Rage is not still in fashion.

_Arb_.

Welcome good _Gobrias_.

_Gob_.

My service and this letter to your Grace.

_Arb_.

From whom?

_Gob_.

From the rich Mine of vertue and beauty, Your mournful Sister.

_Arb_.

She is in prison, _Gobrias,_ is she not?

_Gob_.

She is Sir, till your pleasure to enlarge her, Which on my knees I beg. Oh 'tis not fit, That all the sweetness of the world in one, The youth and vertue that would tame wild Tygers, And wilder people, that have known no manners, Should live thus cloistred up; for your loves sake, If there be any in that noble heart,

To her a wretched Lady, and forlorn,

Or for her love to you, which is as much As nature and obedience ever gave,

Have pity on her beauties.

_Arb_.

Pray thee stand up; 'Tis true, she is too fair, And al these commendations but her own, Would thou had'st never so commended her, Or I nere liv'd to have heard it _Gobrias;_

If thou but know'st the wrong her beautie does her, Thou wouldst in pity of her be a lyar,

Thy ignorance has drawn me wretched man, Whither my self nor thou canst wel tel : O my fate!

I think she loves me, but I fear another Is deeper in her heart: How thinkst thou _Gobrias_?

_Gob_.

I do beseech your Grace believe it not, For let me perish if it be not false. Good Sir, read her Letter.

_Mar_.

This Love, or what a devil it is I know not, begets more mischief than a Wake. I had rather be well beaten, starv'd, or lowsie, than live within the Air on't. He that had seen this brave fel ow Charge through a grove of Pikes but t'other day, and look upon him now, will ne'r believe his eyes again: if he continue thus but two days more, a Taylor may beat him with one hand tied behind him.

_Arb_.

Alas, she would be at liberty.

And there be a thousand reasons _Gobrias,_

Thousands that will deny't:

Which if she knew, she would contentedly Be where she is: and bless her vertues for it, And me, though she were closer, she would, _Gobrias,_

Good man indeed she would.

_Gob_.

Then good Sir, for her satisfaction,

Send for her and with reason make her know Why she must live thus from you.

_Arb_.

I will; go bring her to me.

[_Exeunt al _.

_Enter_ Bessus, _And two Sword-men, and a Boy_.

_Bes_.

Y'are very welcome both; some stools boy, And reach a Table; Gentlemen o'th' Sword, Pray sit without more complement; be gone child.

I have been curious in the searching of you, Because I understand you wise and valiant persons.

_1_.

We understand our selves Sir.

_Bes_.

Nay Gentlemen, and dear friends o'th' Sword, No complement I pray, but to the cause

I hang upon, which in few, is my honour.

_2_.

You cannot hang too much Sir, for your honour, But to your cause.

_Bes_.

Be wise, and speak truth, my first doubt is, My beating by my Prince.

_1_.

Stay there a little Sir, do you doubt a beating?

Or have you had a beating by your Prince?

_Bes_.

Gentlemen o'th' Sword, my Prince has beaten me.

_2_.

Brother, what think you of this case?

_1_.

If he has beaten him, the case is clear.

_2_.

If he have beaten him, I grant the case; But how? we cannot be too subtil in this business, I say, but how?

_Bes_.

Even with his Royal hand.

_1_.

Was it a blow of love, or indignation?

_Bes_.

'Twas twenty blows of indignation, Gentlemen, Besides two blows o'th face.

_2_.

Those blows o'th' face have made a new cause on't, The rest were but an horrible rudeness.

_1_.

Two blows o'th' face, and given by a worse man, I must confess, as the Sword-men say, had turn'd the business: Mark me brother, by a worse man; but being by his Prince, had they been ten, and those ten drawn teeth, besides the hazard of his nose for ever; al this had been but favours: this is my flat opinion, which I'le die in.

_2_.

The King may do much Captain, believe it; for had he crackt your Scul through, like a bottle, or broke a Rib or two with tossing of you, yet you had lost no honour: This is strange you may imagine, but this is truth now Captain.

_Bes_.

I will be glad to embrace it Gentlemen; But how far may he strike me?

_1_.

There is another: a new cause rising from the time and distance, in which I will deliver my opinion: he may strike, beat, or cause to be beaten: for these are natural to man: your Prince, I say, may beat you, so far forth as his dominion reacheth, that's for the distance; the time, ten miles a day, I take it.

_2_.

Brother, you err, 'tis fifteen miles a day, His stage is ten, his beatings are fifteen.

_Bes_.

'Tis the longest, but we subjects must--

_1_.

Be subject to it; you are wise and vertuous.

_Bes_.

Obedience ever makes that noble use on't, To which I dedicate my beaten body;

I must trouble you a little further, Gentlemen o'th' Sword.

_2_.

No trouble at al to us Sir, if we may

Profit your understanding, we are bound By vertue of our cal ing to utter our opinions, Shortly, and discreetly.

_Bes_.

My sorest business is, I have been kick'd.

_2_.

How far Sir?

_Bes_.

Not to flatter my self in it, al over, my sword forc'd but not lost; for discreetly I rendred it to save that imputation.

_1_.

It shew'd discretion, the best part of valour.

_2_.

Brother, this is a pretty cause, pray ponder on't; Our friend here has been kick'd.

_1_.

He has so, brother.

_2_.

Sorely he saies: Now, had he set down here Upon the meer kick, 't had been Cowardly.

_1_.

I think it had been Cowardly indeed.

_2_.

But our friend has redeem'd it in delivering His sword without compulsion; and that man That took it of him, I pronounce a weak one, And his kicks nullities.

He should have kick'd him after the delivering Which is the confirmation of a Coward.

_1_.

Brother, I take it, you mistake the question; For, say that I were kick'd.

_2_.

I must not say so;

Nor I must not hear it spoke by the tongue of man.

You kick'd, dear brother! you're merry.

_1_.

But put the case I were kick'd?

_2_.

Let them put it that are things weary of their lives, and know not honour; put the case you were kick'd?

_1_.

I do not say I was kickt.

_2_.

Nor no silly creature that wears his head without a Case, his soul in a Skin-coat: You kickt dear brother?

_Bes_.

Nay Gentlemen, let us do what we shal do, Truly and honest[l]y; good Sirs to the question.

_1_.

Why then I say, suppose your Boy kick't, Captain?

_2_.

The Boy may be suppos'd is liable.

_1_.

A foolish forward zeal Sir, in my friend; But to the Boy, suppose the Boy were kickt.

_Bes_.

I do suppose it.

_1_.

Has your Boy a sword?

_Bes_.

Surely no; I pray suppose a sword too.

_1_.

I do suppose it; you grant your Boy was kick't then.

_2_.

By no means Captain, let it be supposed still; the word grant, makes not for us.

_1_.

I say this must be granted.

_2_

This must be granted brother?

_1_.

I, this must be granted.

_2_.

Still this must?

_1_.

I say this must be granted.

_2_.

I, give me the must again, brother, you palter.

_1_.

I will not hear you, wasp.

_2_.

Brother, I say you palter, the must three times together; I wear as sharp Steel as another man, and my Fox bites as deep, musted, my dear brother. But to the cause again.

_Bes_.

Nay look you Gentlemen.

_2_.

In a word, I ha' done.

_1_.

A tall man but intemperate, 'tis great pity; Once more suppose the Boy kick'd.

_2_.

Forward.

_1_.

And being thorowly kick'd, laughs at the kicker.

_2_

So much for us; proceed.

_1_.

And in this beaten scorn, as I may call it, Delivers up his weapon; where lies the error?

_Bes_.

It lies i'th' beating Sir, I found it four dayes since.

_2_.

The error, and a sore one as I take it, Lies in the thing kicking.

_Bes_.

I understand that well, 'tis so indeed Sir.

_1_.

That is according to the man that did it.

_2_.

There springs a new branch, whose was the foot?

_Bes_.

A Lords.

_1_.

The cause is mighty, but had it been two Lords, And both had kick'd you, if you laugh, 'tis clear.

_Bes_.

I did laugh,

But how will that help me, Gentlemen?

_2_.

Yes, it shall help you if you laught aloud.

_Bes_.

As loud as a kick'd man could laugh, I laught Sir.

_1_.

My reason now, the valiant man is known By suffering and contemning; you have

Enough of both, and you are valiant.

_2_.

If he be sure he has been kick'd enough: For that brave sufferance you speak of brother, Consists not in a beating and away,

But in a cudgel 'd body, from eighteen

To eight and thirty; in a head rebuk'd

With pots of all size, degrees, stools, and bed-staves, This showes a valiant man.

_Bes_.

Then I am valiant, as valiant as the proudest, For these are al familiar things to me; Familiar as my sleep, or want of money, Al my whole body's but one bruise with beating, I think I have been cudgel 'd with all nations, And almost all Religions.

_2_.

Embrace him brother, this man is valiant, I know it by my self, he's valiant.

_1_.

Captain, thou art a valiant Gentleman,

To bide upon, a very valiant man.

_Bes_.

My equall friends o'th'Sword, I must request your hands to this.

_2_.

'Tis fit it should be.

_Bes_.

Boy, get me some wine, and pen and Ink within: Am I clear, Gentlemen?

_1_.

Sir, the world has taken notice what we have done, Make much of your body, for I'll pawn my steel, Men will be coyer of their legs hereafter.

_Bes_.

I must request you goe along and testife to the Lord _Bacurius_, whose foot has struck me, how you find my cause.

_2_.

We will, and tel that Lord he must be rul'd, Or there are those abroad, will rule his Lordship.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ Arbaces _at one door, and_ Gob. _and_ Panthea _at another_.

_Gob_.

Sir, here's the Princess.

_Arb_.

Leave us then alone,

For the main cause of her imprisonment

Must not be heard by any but her self.

[_Exit_ Gob.

You're welcome Sister, and would to heaven I could so bid you by another name:

If you above love not such sins as these, Circle my heart with thoughts as cold as snow To quench these rising flames that harbour here.

_ [P]an_.

Sir, does it please you I should speak?

_Arb_.

Please me?

I, more than all the art of musick can, Thy speech doth please me, for it ever sounds, As thou brought'st joyful unexpected news; And yet it is not fit thou shouldst be heard.

I pray thee think so.

_Pan_.

Be it so, I will.

Am I the first that ever had a wrong

So far from being fit to have redress,

That 'twas unfit to hear it? I will back To prison, rather than disquiet you,

And wait till it be fit.

_Arb_.

No, do not goe;

For I will hear thee with a serious thought: I have col ected al that's man about me Together strongly, and I am resolv'd

To hear thee largely, but I do beseech thee, Do not come nearer to me, for there is

Something in that, that will undoe us both.

_Pan_.

Alas Sir, am I venome?

_Arb_.

Yes, to me;

Though of thy self I think thee to be

In equall degree of heat or cold,

As nature can make: yet as unsound men

Convert the sweetest and the nourishing'st meats Into diseases; so shal I distemper'd,

Do thee, I pray thee draw no nearer to me.

_Pan_.

Sir, this is that I would: I am of late Shut from the world, and why it should be thus, Is al I wish to know.

_Arb_.

Why credit me _Panthea_,

Credit me that am thy brother,

Thy loving brother, that there is a cause Sufficient, yet unfit for thee to know, That might undoe thee everlastingly,

Only to hear, wilt thou but credit this?

By Heaven 'tis true, believe it if thou canst.

_Pan_.

Children and fools are ever credulous,

And I am both, I think, for I believe;

If you dissemble, be it on your head;

I'le back unto my prison: yet me-thinks I might be kept in some place where you are; For in my self, I find I know not what

To cal it, but it is a great desire

To see you often.

_Arb_.

Fie, you come in a step, what do you mean?

Dear sister, do not so: Alas _Panthea_, Where I am would you be? Why that's the cause You are imprison'd, that you may not be Where I am.

_Pan_.

Then I must indure it Sir, Heaven keep you.

_Arb_.

Nay, you shal hear the case in short _Panthea_, And when thou hear'st it, thou wilt blush for me, And hang thy head down like a Violet

Ful of the mornings dew: There is a way To gain thy freedome, but 'tis such a one As puts thee in worse bondage, and I know, Thou wouldst encounter fire, and make a proof Whether the gods have care of innocence, Rather than fol ow it: Know that I have lost, The only difference betwixt man and beast, My reason.

_Pan_.

Heaven forbid.

_Arb_.

Nay 'tis gone;

And I am left as far without a bound,

As the wild Ocean, that obeys the winds; Each sodain passion throwes me where it lists, And overwhelms all that oppose my will: I have beheld thee with a lustfull eye; My heart is set on wickedness to act

Such sins with thee, as I have been afraid To think of, if thou dar'st consent to this, Which I beseech thee do not, thou maist gain Thy liberty, and yield me a content;

If not, thy dwelling must be dark and close, Where I may never see thee; For heaven knows That laid this punishment upon my pride, Thy sight at some time will enforce my madness To make a start e'ne to thy ravishing;

Now spit upon me, and call al reproaches Thou canst devise together, and at once Hurle'em against me: for I am a sickness As killing as the plague, ready to seize thee.

_Pan_.

Far be it from me to revile the King:

But it is true, that I shall rather choose To search out death, that else would search out me, And in a grave sleep with my innocence, Than welcome such a sin: It is my fate, To these cross accidents I was ordain'd, And must have patience; and but that my eyes Have more of woman in 'em than my heart, I would not weep: Peace enter you again.

_Arb_.

Farwel , and good _Panthea_ pray for me, Thy prayers are pure, that I may find a death However soon before my passions grow

That they forget what I desire is sin;

For thither they are tending: if that happen, Then I shall force thee tho' thou wert a Virgin By vow to Heaven, and shal pull a heap Of strange yet uninvented sin upon me.

_Pan_.

Sir, I will pray for you, yet you shall know It is a sullen fate that governs us,

For I could wish as heartily as you

I were no sister to you, I should then

Imbrace your lawful love, sooner than health.

_Arb_.

Couldst thou affect me then?

_Pan_.

So perfectly,

That as it is, I ne're shal sway my heart, To like another.

_Arb_.

Then I curse my birth,

Must this be added to my miseries

That thou art willing too? is there no stop To our ful happiness, but these meer sounds Brother and Sister?

_Pan_.

There is nothing else,

But these alas will separate us more

Than twenty worlds betwixt us.

_Arb_.

I have liv'd

To conquer men and now am overthrown

Only by words Brother and Sister: where Have those words dwelling? I will find 'em out, And utterly destroy 'em; but they are

Not to be grasp'd: let 'em be men or beasts, And I will cut 'em from the Earth, or Towns, And I will raze 'em, and the[n] blow 'em up: Let 'em be Seas, and I will drink 'em off, And yet have unquencht fire left in my breast: Let 'em be any thing but meerly voice.

_Pan_.

But 'tis not in the power of any force, Or policy to conquer them.

_Arb_.

_Panthea_, What shal we do?

Shall we stand firmly here, and gaze our eyes out?

_Pan_.

Would I could do so,

But I shal weep out mine.

_Arb_.

Accursed man,

Thou bought'st thy reason at too dear a rate, For thou hast al thy actions bounded in With curious rules, when every beast is free: What is there that acknowledges a kindred But wretched man? Who ever saw the Bul

Fearfully leave the Heifer that he lik'd Because they had one Dam?

_Pan_.

Sir, I disturb you and my self too;

'Twere better I were gone.

_Arb_.

I will not be so foolish as I was,

Stay, we will love just as becomes our births, No otherwise: Brothers and Sisters may

Walk hand in hand together; so will we, Come nearer: is there any hurt in this?

_Pan_.

I hope not.

_Arb_.

Faith there is none at al :

And tell me truly now, is there not one You love above me?

_Pan_.

No by Heaven.

_Arb_.

Why yet you sent unto _Tigranes_, Sister.

_Pan_.

True, but for another: for the truth--

_Arb_.

No more,

I'le credit thee, thou canst not lie,

Thou art al truth.

_Pan_.

But is there nothing else,

That we may do, but only walk? methinks Brothers and Sisters lawful y may kiss.

_Arb_.

And so they may _Panthea_, so will we,

And kiss again too; we were too scrupulous, And foolish, but we will be so no more.

_Pan_.

If you have any mercy, let me go

To prison, to my death, to any thing:

I feel a sin growing upon my blood,

Worse than al these, hotter than yours.

_Arb_.

That is impossible, what shou'd we do?

_Pan_.

Flie Sir, for Heavens sake.

_Arb_.

So we must away,

Sin grows upon us more by this delay.

[_Exeunt several wayes_.

_Actus Quintus_.

_Enter_ Mardonius _And_ Lygones.

_Mar_.

Sir, the King has seen your Commission, and believes it, and freely by this warrant gives you power to visit Prince Tigranes, your Noble Master.

_Lygr_.

I thank his Grace and kiss his hand.

_Mar_.

But is the main of all your business ended in this?

_Lyg_.

I have another, but a worse, I am asham'd, it is a business.

_Mar_.

You serve a worthy person, and a stranger I am sure you are; you may imploy me if you please without your purse, such Offices should ever be their own rewards.

_Lyg_.

I am bound to your Nobleness.

_Mar_.

I may have need of you, and then this courtesie, If it be any, is not ill bestowed;

But may I civilly desire the rest?

I shal not be a hurter if no helper.

_Lyg_.

Sir you shal know I have lost a foolish Daughter, And with her al my patience, pilfer'd away By a mean Captain of your Kings.

_Mar_.

Stay there Sir:

If he have reacht the Noble worth of Captain, He may wel claim a worthy Gentlewoman, Though she were yours, and Noble.

_Lyg_.

I grant all that too: but this wretched fel ow Reaches no further than the empty name

That serves to feed him; were he valiant, Or had but in him any noble nature

That might hereafter promise him a good man, My cares were so much lighter, and my grave A span yet from me.

_Mar_.

I confess such fel ows

Be in al Royal Camps, and have and must be, To make the sin of Coward more detested In the mean souldier that with such a foil Sets off much valour. By description

I should now guess him to you, it was _Bessus_, I dare almost with confidence pronounce it.

_Lyg_.

'Tis such a scurvie name as _Bessus_, and now I think 'tis he.

_Mar_.

Captain do you call him?

Believe me Sir, you have a misery

Too mighty for your age: A pox upon him, For that must be the end of all his service: Your Daughter was not mad Sir?

_Lyg_.

No, would she had been,

The fault had had more credit: I would do something.

_Mar_.

I would fain counsel you, but to what I know not, he's so below a beating, that the Women find him not worthy of their Distaves, and to hang him were to cast away a Rope; he's such an Airie, thin unbodyed Coward, that no revenge can catch him: I'le tell you Sir, and tel you truth; this Rascal fears neither God nor man, he has been so beaten: sufferance has made him Wainscot: he has had since he was first a slave, at least three hundred Daggers set in's head, as little boys do new Knives in hot meat, there's not a Rib in's body o' my Conscience that has not been thrice broken with dry beating: and now his sides look like two Wicker Targets, every way bended; Children will shortly take him for a Wall, and set their Stone-bows in his forehead, he is of so base a sense, I cannot in a week imagine what shal be done to him.

_Lyg_.

Sure I have committed some great sin

That this fel ow should be made my Rod, I would see him, but I shal have no patience.

_Mar_.

'Tis no great matter if you have not: if a Laming of him, or such a toy may do you pleasure Sir, he has it for you, and I'le help you to him: 'tis no news to him to have a Leg broken, or Shoulder out, with being turn'd o'th' stones like a Tansie: draw not your Sword if you love it; for on my Conscience his head will break it: we use him i'th' Wars like a Ram to shake a wal withal. Here comes the very person of him, do as you shall find your temper, I must leave you: but if you do not break him like a Bisket, you are much to blame Sir.

[_Exit_ Mar.

_Enter_ Bessus _And the Sword men_.

_Lyg_.

Is your name _Bessus_?

_Bes_.

Men call me Captain Bessus.

_Lyg_.

Then Ca[p]tain _Bessus_, you are a rank rascal , without more exordiums, a durty frozen slave; and with the favor of your friends here I will beat you.

_2 Sword_.

Pray use your pleasure Sir,

You seem to be a Gentleman.

_Lyg_.

Thus Captain _Bessus_, thus; thus twing your nose, thus kick, thus tread you.

_Bes_.

I do beseech you yield your cause Sir quickly.

_Lyg_.

Indeed I should have told that first.

_Bes_.

I take it so.

_1 Sword_.

Captain, he should indeed, he is mistaken.

_Lyg_.

Sir, you shall have it quickly, and more beating, you have stoln away a Lady, Captain coward, and such an one.

_beats him_.

_Bes_.

Hold, I beseech you, hold Sir, I never yet stole any living thing that had a tooth about it.

_Lyg_.

I know you dare lie.

_Bes_.

With none but Summer Whores upon my life Sir, my means and manners never could attempt above a hedge or hay-cock.

_Lyg_.

Sirra, that quits not me, where is this Lady? do that you do not use to do; tel truth, or by my hand, I'le beat your Captains brains out, wash'em, and put 'em in again, that will I.

_Bes_.

There was a Lady Sir, I must confess, once in my charge: the Prince Tigranes gave her to my guard for her safety, how I us'd her, she may her self report, she's with the Prince now: I did but wait upon her like a groom, which she will testife I am sure: if not, my brains are at your service when you please Sir, and glad I have 'em for you.

_Lyg_.

This is most likely, Sir, I ask you pardon, and am sorry I was so intemperate.

_Bes_.

Well I can ask no more, you will think it strange not to have me beat you at first sight.

_Lyg_.

Indeed I would, but I know your goodness can forget twenty beatings, you must forgive me.

_Bes_.

Yes there's my hand, go where you will, I shal think you a valiant fel ow for al this.

_Lyg_.

My da[u]ghter is a Whore, I feel it now too sensible; yet I will see her, discharge my self from being father to her, and then back to my Country, and there die, farwel Captain.

[_Exit Lygo_.

_Bes_.

Farwel Sir, farwel , commend me to the gentlewoman I pray.

_1 Sword_.

How now Captain? bear up man.

_Bes_.

Gentlemen o'th'sword, your hands once more; I have been kickt agen, but the foolish fel ow is penitent, has askt me Mercy, and my honour's safe.

_2 Sword_.

We knew that, or the foolish fellow had better have kickt his grandsir.

_Bes_.

Confirm, confirm I pray.

_1 Sword_.

There be our hands agen, now let him come and say he was not sorry, and he sleeps for it.

_Bes_.

Alas good ignorant old man, let him go, let him go, these courses will undo him.

[_Exeunt clear_.

_Enter_ Lygones _And_ Bacurius.

_Bac_.

My Lord, your authority is good, and I am glad it is so, for my consent would never hinder you from seeing your own King, I am a Minister, but not a governor of this State, yonder is your King, I'le leave you.

[_Exit_.

_Enter_ Tigranes _And_ Spaconia.

_Lyg_.

There he is indeed, and with him my disloyal child.

_Tigr_.

I do perceive my fault so much, that yet me thinks thou shouldst not have forgiven me.

_Lyg_.

Health to your Majesty.

_Tigr_.

What? good _Lygones_ welcome, what business brought thee hither?

_Lyg_.

Several businesses. My publick businesses will appear by this, I have a message to deliver, which if it please you so to authorize, is an embassage from the Armenian State, unto Arbaces for your liberty: the offer's there set down, please you to read it.

_Tigr_.

There is no alteration happened since I came thence?

_Lyg_.

None Sir, al is as it was.

_Tigr_.

And al our friends are wel ?

_Lyg_.

Al very well.

_Spa_.

Though I have done nothing but what was good, I dare not see my Father, it was fault enough not to acquaint him with that good.

_Lyg_.

Madam I should have seen you.

_Spa_.

O good Sir forgive me.

_Lyg_.

Forgive you, why? I am no kin to you, am I?

_Spa_.

Should it be measur'd by my mean deserts, indeed you are not.

_Lyg_.

Thou couldest prate unhappily ere thou couldst go, would thou couldst do as wel , and how does your custome hold out here?

_Spa_.

Sir?

_Lyg_.

Are you in private still, or how?

_Spa_.

What do you mean?

_Lyg_.

Do you take mony? are you come to sell sin yet? perhaps I can help you to liberal Clients: or has not the King cast you off yet? O thou vile creature, whose best commendation is, that thou art a young whore, I would thy Mother had liv'd to see this, or rather that I had died ere I had seen it; why didst not make me acquainted when thou wert first resolv'd to be a whore, I would have seen thy hot lust satisfied more privately: I would have kept a dancer and a whole consort of musicians in my own house only to fiddle thee.

_Spa_.

Sir, I was never whore.

_Lyg_.

If thou couldst not say so much for thy self, thou shouldst be carted.

_Tigr_.

_Lygones_, I have read it, and I like it, you shal deliver it.

_Lyg_.

Well Sir, I will: but I have private business with you.

_Tigr_.

Speak, what is't?

_Lyg_. How has my age deserv'd so ill of you, that you can pick no strumpets i'th' land, but out of my breed?

_Tigr_.

Strumpets, good _Lygones_?

_Lyg_.

Yes, and I wish to have you know, I scorn to get a whore for any prince alive, and yet scorn will not help methinks: my Daughter might have been spar'd, there were enow besides.

_Tigr_.

May I not prosper but she's innocent as morning light for me, and I dare swear for all the world.

_Lyg_.

Why is she with you then? can she wait on you better than your man, has she a gift in plucking off your stockings, can she make Cawdles well or cut your cornes? Why do you keep her with you?

For a Queen I know you do contemn her, so should I, and every subject else think much at it.

_Tigr_.

Let 'em think much, but 'tis more firm than earth: thou see'st thy Queen there.

_Lyg_.

Then have I made a fair hand, I call'd her Whore. If I shal speak now as her Father, I cannot chuse but greatly rejoyce that she shal be a Queen: but if I shal speak to you as a States-man, she were more fit to be your whore.

_Tigr_.

Get you about your business to _Arbaces_, now you talk idlely.

_Lyg_.

Yes Sir, I will go, and shal she be a Queen? she had more wit than her old Father, when she ran away: shal she be Queen? now by my troth 'tis fine, I'le dance out of all measure at her wedding: shal I not Sir?

_Tigr_.

Yes marry shalt thou.

_Lyg_.

I'le make these withered kexes bear my body two hours together above ground.

_Tigr_.

Nay go, my business requires hast.

_Lyg_.

Good Heaven preserve you, you are an excel ent King.

_Spa_.

Farwel good Father.

_Lyg_.

Farwel sweet vertuous Daughter, I never was so joyful in al my life, that I remember: shall she be a Queen? Now I perceive a man may weep for joy, I had thought they had lyed that said so.

[_Exit_ Lygones.

_Tigr_.

Come my dear love.

_Spa_.

But you may see another may alter that again.

_Tigr_.

Urge it no more, I have made up a new strong constancy, not to be shook with eyes: I know I have the passions of a man, but if I meet with any subject that should hold my eyes more firmly than is fit, I'le think of thee, and run away from it: let that suffice.

[_Exeunt al _.

_Enter_ Bacurius _And his Servant_.

_Bac_.

Three Gentlemen without to speak with me?

_Ser_.

Yes Sir.

_Bac_.

Let them come in.

_Enter_ Bessus _with the two Sword-men_.

_Ser_.

They are entred Sir already.

_Bac_.

Now fel ows your business? are these the Gentlemen?

_Bes_.

My Lord, I have made bold to bring these Gentlemen, my friends o'th' Sword along with me.

_Bac_.

I am afraid you'l fight then.

_Bes_.

My good Lord, I will not, your Lordship is much mistaken, fear not Lord.

_Bac_.

Sir, I am sorry for't.

_Bes_.

I ask no more in honour, Gentlemen you hear my Lord is sorry.

_Bac_.

Not that I have beaten you, but beaten one that will be beaten: one whose dull body will require a laming, as Surfeits do the diet, spring and fall; now to your Sword-men; what come they for, good Captain Stock-fish?

_Bes_.

It seems your Lordship has forgot my name.

_Bac_.

No, nor your nature neither, though they are things fitter I must confess for any thing, than my remembrance, or any honest mans: what shal these Billets do; be pil'd up in my wood-yard?

_Bes_.

Your Lordship holds your mirth still, Heaven continue it: but for these Gentlemen, they come--

_Bac_.

To swear you are a Coward, spare your book, I do believe it.

_Bes_.

Your Lordship still draws wide, they come to vouch under their valiant hands I am no Coward.

_Bac_.

That would be a show indeed worth seeing: sirra be wise, and take Mony for this motion, travel with it, and where the name of _Bessus_ has been known or a good Coward stirring, 'twill yield more than a tilting. This will prove more beneficial to you, if you be thrifty, than your Captainship, and more natural: men of most valiant hands is this true?

_2 Sword_.

It is so, most renowned.

_Bac_.

'Tis somewhat strange.

_1 Sword_.

Lord, it is strange, yet true; we have examined from your Lordships foot there, to this mans head, the nature of the beatings; and we do find his honour is come off clean and sufficient: this as our swords shall help us.

_Bac_.

You are much bound to your Bil-bow-men, I am glad you are straight again Captain; 'twere good you would think on some way to gratifie them, they have undergone a labour for you, _Bessus_

would have puzl'd _hercules_ with al his valour.

_2 Sword_.

Your Lordship must understand we are no men o'th' Law, that take pay for our opinions: it is sufficient we have clear'd our friend.

_Bac_.

Yet there is something due, which I as toucht in Conscience will discharge Captain; I'le pay this Rent for you.

_Bes_.

Spare your self my good Lord; my brave friends aim at nothing but the vertue.

_Bac_.

That's but a cold discharge Sir for the pains.

_2 Sword_.

O Lord, my good Lord.

_Bac_.

Be not so modest, I will give you something.

_Bes_.

They shal dine with your Lordship, that's sufficient.

_Bac_.

Something in hand the while, you Rogues, you Apple-squires: do you come hither with your botled valour, your windy froth, to limit out my beatings?

_1 Sword_.

I do beseech your Lordship.

_2 Sword_.

O good Lord.

_Bac_.

S'foot-what a heavy of beaten slaves are here! get me a Cudgel sirra, and a tough one.

_2 Sword_.

More of your foot, I do beseech your Lordship.

_Bac_.

You shall, you shall dog, and your fel ow-beagle.

_1 Sword_.

O' this side good my Lord.

_Bac_.

Off with your swords, for if you hurt my foot, I'le have you flead you Rascals.

_1 Sword_.

Mine's off my Lord.

_2 Sword_.

I beseech your Lordship stay a little, my strap's tied to my Cod piece-point: now when you please.

_Bac_.

Captain these are your valiant friends, you long for a little too?

_Bes_.

I am very wel , I humbly thank your Lordship.

_Bac_.

What's that in your pocket, hurts my Toe you Mungril? Thy Buttocks cannot be so hard, out with it quickly.

_2 Sword_.

Here 'tis Sir, a small piece of Artillery, that a Gentleman a dear friend of your Lordships sent me with, to get it mended Sir, for if you mark, the nose is somewhat loose.

_Bac_.

A friend of mine you Rascal? I was never wearier of doing any thing, than kicking these two Foot-bal s.

_Enter_ Servant.

_Serv_.

Here is a good Cudgel Sir.

_Bac_.

It comes too late I'me weary, pray thee do thou beat them.

_2 Sword_.

My Lord, this is foul play i'faith, to put a fresh man upon us, men are but men Sir.

_Bac_.

That jest shall save your bones; Captain, Ral y up your rotten Regiment and be gone: I had rather thrash than be bound to kick these Rascals, till they cry'd ho; _Bessus_ you may put your hand to them now, and then you are quit. Farewel, as you like this, pray visit me again, 'twill keep me in good health.

[_Exit_ Bac.

_2 Sword_.

H'as a devilish hard foot, I never felt the like.

_1 Sword_.

Nor I, and yet I am sure I have felt a hundred.

_2 Sword_.

If he kick thus i'th' Dog-daies, he will be dry foundred: what cure now Captain besides Oyl of Baies?

_Bes_.

Why wel enough I warrant you, you can go.

_2 Sword_.

Yes, heaven be thanked; but I feel a shrowd ach, sure h'as sprang my huckle-bone.

_1 Sword_.

I ha' lost a hanch.

_Bes_.

A little butter, friend a little butter, butter and parseley and a soveraign matter: _probatum est_.

_2 Sword_.

Captain we must request your hand now to our honours.

_Bes_.

Yes marry shal ye, and then let all the world come, we are valiant to our selves, and there's an end.

_1 Sword_.

Nay then we must be valiant; O my ribs.

_2 Sword_.

O my smal guts, a plague upon these sharp-toed shooes, they are murtherers.

[_Exeunt clear_.

_Enter_ Arbaces _with his sword drawn_.

_Arb_.

It is resolv'd, I bare it whilst I could, I can no more, I must begin with murther of my friends, and so go on to that incestuous ravishing, and end my life and sins with a forbidden blow, upon my self.

_Enter_ Mardonius.

_Mar_.

What Tragedy is near? That hand was never wont to draw a sword, but it cry'd dead to something.

_Arb_.

_Mardonius_, have you bid _Gobrias_ come?

_Mar_.

How do you Sir?

_Arb_.

Well, is he coming?

_Mar_.

Why Sir, are you thus? why do your hands proclaim a lawless War against your self?

_Arb_.

Thou answerest me one question with an other, is _Gobrias_

coming?

_Mar_.

Sir he is.

_Arb_.

'Tis well, I can forbear your questions then, be gone.

_Mar_.

Sir, I have mark't.

_Arb_.

Mark less, it troubles you and me.

_Mar_.

You are more variable than you were.

_Arb_.

It may be so.

_Mar_.

To day no Hermit could be humbler than you were to us al .

_Arb_.

And what of this?

_Mar_.

And now you take new rage into your eyes, as you would look us al out of the Land.

_Arb_.

I do confess it, will that satisfie? I prethee get thee gone.

_Mar_.

Sir, I will speak.

_Arb_.

Will ye?

_Mar_.

It is my duty. I fear you will kill your self: I am a subject, and you shal do me wrong in't: 'tis my cause, and I may speak.

_Arb_.

Thou art not train'd in sin, it seems _Mardonius_: kill my self!

by Heaven I will not do it yet; and when I will, I'le tel thee then: I shall be such a creature, that thou wilt give me leave without a word. There is a method in mans wickedness, it grows up by degrees: I am not come so high as killing of my self, there are a hundred thousand sins 'twixt me and it, which I must doe, and I shall come to't at last; but take my oath not now, be satisfied, and get thee hence.

_Mar_.

I am sorry 'tis so ill.

_Arb_.

Be sorry then, true sorrow is alone, grieve by thy self.

_Mar_.

I pray you let me see your Sword put up before I go: I'le leave you then.

_Arb_.

Why so? what fol y is this in thee, is it not as apt to mischief as it was before? can I not reach it thinkst thou? these are toyes for Children to be pleas'd with, and not men, now I am safe you think: I would the book of fate were here, my Sword is not so sure but I would get it out and mangle that, that al the destinies should quite forget their fixt decrees, and hast to make us new, for other fortunes, mine could not be worse, wilt thou now leave me?

_Mar_.

Heaven put into your bosome temperate thoughts, I'le leave you though I fear.

_Arb_.

Go, thou art honest, why should the hasty error of my youth be so unpardonable to draw a sin helpless upon me?

_Enter_ Gobrias.

_Gob_.

There is the King, now it is ripe.

_Arb_.

Draw near thou guilty man, that art the authour of the loathedst crime five ages have brought forth, and hear me speak; curses more incurable, and all the evils mans body or his Spirit can receive be with thee.

_Gob_.

Why Sir do you curse me thus?

_Arb_.

Why do I curse thee? if there be a man subtil in curses, that exceeds the rest, his worst wish on thee, thou hast broke my heart.

_Gob_.

How Sir, have I preserv'd you from a child, from al the arrows, malice, or ambition could shoot at you, and have I this for my pay?

_Arb_.

'Tis true, thou didst preserve me, and in that wert cruel er than hardned murtherers of infants and their Mothers! thou didst save me only till thou hadst studied out a way how to destroy me cunningly thy self: this was a curious way of torturing.

_Gob_.

What do you mean?

_Arb_.

Thou knowst the evils thou hast done to me; dost thou remember al those witching letters thou sent'st unto me to Armenia, fill'd with the praise of my beloved Sister, where thou extol'st her beauty, what had I to do with that? what could her beauty be to me? and thou didst write how wel she lov'd me, dost thou remember this? so that I doted something before I saw her.

_Gob_.

This is true.

_Arb_.

Is it? and when I was return'd thou knowst thou didst pursue it, till thou woundst me into such a strange and unbeliev'd affection, as good men cannot think on.

_Gob_.

This I grant, I think I was the cause.

_Arb_.

Wert thou? Nay more, I think thou meant'st it.

_Gob_.

Sir, I hate to lie, as I love Heaven and honesty, I did, it was my meaning.

_Arb_.

Be thine own sad judge, a further condemnation will not need, prepare thy self to dy.

_Gob_.

Why Sir to dy?

_Arb_.

Why shouldst thou live? was ever yet offender so impudent, that had a thought of Mercy after confession of a crime like this? get out I cannot where thou hurl'st me in, but I can take revenge, that's al the sweetness left for me.

_Gob_.

Now is the time, hear me but speak.

_Arb_.

No, yet I will be far more merciful than thou wert to me; thou didst steal into me and never gav'st me warning: so much time as I give thee now, had prevented thee for ever. Notwithstanding all thy sins, if thou hast hope, that there is yet a prayer to save thee, turn and speak it to thy self.

_Gob_.

Sir, you shall know your sins before you do'em, if you kill me.

_Arb_.

I will not stay then.

_Gob_.

Know you kill your Father.

_Arb_.

How?

_Gob_.

You kill your Father.

_Arb_.

My Father? though I know't for a lie, made out of fear to save thy stained life; the very reverence of the word comes cross me, and ties mine arm down.

_Gob_.

I will tel you that shal heighten you again, I am thy Father, I charge thee hear me.

_Arb_.

If it should be so, as 'tis most false, and that I should be found a Bastard issue, the despised fruit of lawless lust, I should no more admire all my wild passions: but another truth shal be wrung from thee: if I could come by the Spirit of pain, it should be poured on thee, till thou al ow'st thy self more full of lies than he that teaches thee.

_Enter_ Arane.

_Ara_.

Turn thee about, I come to speak to thee thou wicked man, hear me thou tyrant.

_Arb_.

I will turn to thee, hear me thou Strumpet; I have blotted out the name of Mother, as thou hast thy shame.

_Ara_.

My shame! thou hast less shame than any thing; why dost thou keep my Daughter in a prison? why dost thou cal her Sister, and do this?

_Arb_.

Cease thy strange impudence, and answer quickly if thou contemnest me, this will ask an answer, and have it.

_Ara_.

Help me Gentle _Gobrias_.

_Arb_.

Guilt [dare] not help guilt though they grow together in doing ill, yet at the [punishment] they sever, and each flies the noise of other, think not of help, answer.

_Ara_.

I will, to what?

_Arb_.

To such a thing, as if it be a truth think what a creature thou hast made thy self, that didst not shame to do, what I must blush only to ask thee: tel me who I am, whose son I am without al circumstance, be thou as hasty as my Sword will be if thou refusest.

_Ara_.

Why, you are his son.

_Arb_.

His Son? swear, swear, thou worse than woman damn'd.

_Ara_.

By al that's good you are.

_Arb_.

Then art thou al that ever was known bad, now is the cause of al my strange mis-fortunes come to light: what reverence expectest thou from a child, to bring forth which thou hast offended heaven, thy husband, and the Land? adulterous witch, I know now why thou wouldst have poyson'd me, I was thy lust which thou wouldst have forgot: then wicked Mother of my sins, and me, show me the way to the inheritance I have by thee: which is a spacious world of impious acts, that I may soon possess it: plagues rot thee, as thou liv'st, and such diseases, as use to pay lust, recompence thy deed.

_Gob_.

You do not know why you curse thus.

_Arb_.

Too well; you are a pair of Vipers; and behold the Serpent you have got; there is no beast but if he knew it, has a pedigree as brave as mine, for they have more descents, and I am every way as beastly got, as far without the compass of Law as they.

_Ara_.

You spend your rage and words in vain, and rail upon a guess; hear us a little.

_Arb_.

No, I will never hear, but talk away my breath, and die.

_Gob_.

Why, but you are no Bastard.

_Arb_.

How's that?

_Ara_.

Nor child of mine.

_Arb_.

Still you go on in wonders to me.

_Gob_.

Pray you be more patient, I may bring comfort to you.

_Arb_.

I will kneel, and hear with the obedience of a child; good Father speak, I do acknowledge you, so you bring comfort.

_Gob_.

First know, our last King, your supposed Father was old and feeble when he married her, and almost al the Land thought she was past hope of issue from him.

_Arb_.

Therefore she took leave to play the whore, because the King was old: is this the comfort?

_Ara_.

What will you find out to give me satisfaction, when you find how you have injur'd me? let fire consume me, if ever I were a whore.

_Gob_.

For-bear these starts, or I will leave you wedded to despair, as you are now: if you can find a temper, my breath shal be a pleasant western wind that cools and blasts not.

_Arb_.

Bring it out good Father. I'le lie, and listen here as reverently as to an Angel: if I breath too loud, tel me; for I would be as still as night.

_Gob_.

Our King I say, was old, and this our Queen desir'd to bring an heir, but yet her husband she thought was past it, and to be dishonest I think she would not: if she would have been, the truth is, she was watcht so narrowly, and had so slender opportunities, she hardly could have been: but yet her cunning found out this way; she feign'd her self with child, and posts were sent in hast throughout the Land, and humble thanks was given in every Church, and prayers were made for her safe going and delivery: she feign'd now to grow bigger, and perceiv'd this hope of issue made her fear'd, and brought a far more large respect from every man, and saw her power increase, and was resolv'd, since she believ'd, she could not hav't indeed, at least she would be thought to have a child.

_Arb_.

Do I not hear it well? nay I will make no noise at al ; but pray you to the point, quickly as you can.

_Gob_.

Now when the time was full, she should be brought to bed, I had a Son born, which was you, this the Queen hearing of mov'd me to let her have you; and such reasons she shewed me, as she knew would tie my secrecie, she swore you should be King, and to be short, I did deliver you unto her, and pretended you were dead, and in mine own house kept a funeral, and had an empty coffin put in Earth, that night this Queen feign'd hastily to labour and by a pair of women of her own, which she had charm'd, she made the world believe she was delivered of you. You grew up as the Kings Son, till you were six years old; then did the King dye, and did leave to me Protection of the Realm; and contrary to his own expectation, left this Queen truely with child indeed, of the fair Princess _Panthea_: then she could have torn her hair and did alone to me, yet durst not speak in publick, for she knew she should be found a traytor: and her tale would have been thought madness, or any thing rather than truth. This was the only cause why she did seek to poyson you, and I to keep you safe; and this the reason, why I sought to kindle some sparks of love in you to fair _Panthea_, that she might get part of her right again.

_Arb_.

And have you made an end now? is this all? if not, I will be still till I be aged, till al my hairs be Silver.

_Gob_.

This is all.

_Arb_.

And is it true say you too Madam?

_Ara_.

Yes heaven knows it is most true.

_Arb_.

_Panthea_ then is not my Sister?

_Gob_.

No.

_Arb_. But can you prove this?

_Gob_.

If you will give consent, else who dares go about it?

_Arb_.

Give consent? why I will have 'em al that know it rackt, to get this from 'em, al that wait without, come in, what ere you be, come in and be partakers of my joy, O you are welcome.

_Enter_ Bessus, Gentlemen, Mardonius, _And other attendants_.

_Arb_.

The best news, nay draw no nearer, they al shal hear it, I am found no King.

_Mar_.

Is that so good news?

_Arb_.

Yes the happiest news that ere was heard.

_Mar_.

Indeed 'twere wel for you if you might be a little less obey'd.

_Arb_.

One call the Queen.