 | The Tragedie of Bonduca |  |
53
Scæna Secunda.
Enter Junius, Petillius and a Herald.Petill.
Let him go on: stay, now he talks.
Jun.
Why?
why should I love mine enemie? what is beauty?
of what strange violence, that like the plague,
it works upon our spirits? blind they faign him,
I am sure, I find it so.
Petill.
A dog shall lead ye.
Jun.
His fond affections blinder.
Petill.
Hold ye there still.
Jun.
It takes away my sleep,
Petill.
Alas, poor chicken.
Jun.
my company, content; almost my fashion.
Petill.
Yes, and your weight too, if you follow it.
Jun.
'Tis sure the plague, for no man dare come neer me
without an Antidote: 'tis far worse; Hell.
Petill.
Thou art damn'd without redemption then.
Jun.
The way to 't
strew'd with fair Western smiles, and April blushes,
led by the brightest constellations; eyes,
and sweet proportions, envying heaven: but from thence
no way to guide, no path, no wisdome brings us.
Petill.
Yes, a smart water, Junius.
Jun.
Do I fool?
know all this, and fool still? Do I know further,
that when we have enjoy'd our ends, we lose 'em,
and all our appetites are but as dreams
wee laugh at in our ages.
Petil.
Sweet Philosopher!
Jun.
Do I know on still and yet know nothing? Mercie gods,
why am I thus ridiculous?
Petill.
Motley on thee,
thou art an arrant Asse.
Jun.
Can red and white,
an eye, a nose, a cheek,
Petill.
But one cheek, Junius?
an half-fac'd Mistris?
Jun.
with a little trim,
that wanton fools call Fashion, thus abuse mee?
take me beyond my reason? Why should not I
doat on my horse well trapt, my sword well hatch'd?
they are as handsom things, to mee more usefull,
and possible to rule too. Did I but love,
yet 'twere excusable, my youth would bear it;
but to love there, and that no time can give me,
mine honour dare not ask: shee has been ravish'd
my nature, must not know; she hates our Nation.
Thus to dispose my spirit!
Petill.
Stay a little,
he will declame again.
Jun.
I will not love; I am a man, have reason,
and I will use it: I'll no more tormenting,
nor whining for a wench, there are a thousand,
Petill.
Hold thee there boy.
Jun.
A thousand will intreat me.
Petill.
Ten thousand, Junius.
Jun.
I am young and lustie,
and to my fashion valiant; can please nightly.
Petill.
I'll swear thy back's probatum, for I have known thee
leap at sixteen like a strong Stallion.
Jun.
I will be man again.
Petill.
Now mark the working,
the divell and the spirit tug for't: twenty pound
upon the divels head.
Jun.
I must be wretched.
Petill.
I knew I had won.
Jun.
Nor have I so much power
to shun my fortune.
Petill.
I will hunt thy fortune
with all the shapes imagination breeds,
Musick.
but I will fright thy divell: Stay, he sings now.
Song, by Junius, and Petillius after him in mockage.
Jun.
Must I be thus abus'd?
Petill.
Yes mary must ye.
Let's follow him close: oh, there he is, now read it.
Herald
reads.
It is the Generals command, that all sick,
persons old and unable, retire within the Trenches; hee that
fears his libertie, to leave the Field: Fools, boyes, and lovers
must not come neer the Regiments, for fear of their infections;
especially those Cowards they call Lovers.
Jun.
Hah?
Petill.
Read on.
Herald.
If any common Souldier love an Enemie, hee's
whip'd and made a slave: If any Captain; cast, with losse
of honours, flung out o'th' Army, and made unable ever after
to bear the name of a Souldier.
Jun.
The—consume ye all, Rogues.
Exit Jun.
Petill.
Let this work:
h'as something now to chew upon: he's gone,
come, shake no more.
Her.
Well, Sir, you may command me,
but not to doe the like again for Europe:
I would have given my life for a bent two-pence.
If I ere read to lovers whilst I live again,
or come within their confines—
Petill.
There's your payment,
and keep this private.
Her.
I am school'd for talking.
Exit Herald.
Enter Demetrius.
Petill.
How now, Demetrius, are we drawn?
Dem.
'Tis doing:
Your Company stands fair; but pray ye, where's Junius?
half his command are wanting, with some forty
that Decius leads.
Petill.
Hunting for victuals:
upon my life free-booting Rogues, their stomacks
are like a widows lust, nere satisfied.
Dem.
I wonder how they dare stir, knowing the enemy
Master of all the Countrey.
Petill.
Resolute hungers
know neither fears, nor faiths, they tread on ladders,
ropes, gallowes, and overdoe all dangers.
Dem.
They may be hang'd though.
Petill.
There's their joyfull supper,
and no doubt they are at is.
Dem.
But for heavens sake,
how does young Junius?
Petill.
Drawing on, poor Gentleman.
Dem.
What, to his end?
Petill.
To th'end of all flesh: woman
Dem.
This Love has made him a stout Souldier.
Petill.
O, a great one,
fit to command young goslings; but what news?
Dem.
I think the messenger's come back from Penyus
by this time, let's go know.
Petill.
What will you say now
if he deny to come, and take exceptions
at some half syllable, or sound deliverd
54
Dem.
I cannot think he dare.
Petill.
He dare speak treason,
dare say, what no man dares beleeve, dares doe—
but that's all one: I'll lay you my black armour
to twenty crowns, he comes not.
Dem.
Done.
Petill.
You'll pay.
Dem.
I will.
Petill.
Then keep thine old use Penyus,
be stubborn and vain glorious, and I thank thee.
Come let's go pray for six hours: most of us
I fear, will trouble heaven no more: two good blowes
struck home at two Commanders of the Britains,
and my part's done.
Dem.
I do not think of dying.
Petill.
'Tis possible we may live. But Demetrius,
with what strange legs, and arms, and eyes, and noses,
let Carpenters and Copper-smiths consider.
If I can keep my heart whole, and my wind-pipe,
that I may drink yet like a Souldier—
Dem.
Come, let's have better thoughts; mine's on your Armour.
Petil.
Mine's in your purse, Sir: Let's go try the wager.
Exeunt.
| The Tragedie of Bonduca | |