 | The Injured Princess, or the Fatal Wager |  |
ACT II.
Enter behind Cymbeline, Queen, a Purse, Pisanio, Doctor and Guards, a Viol, Mrs. Holten, Sue.Cym.
Not seen, nor to be spoke with?
Queen.
She's too haughty,
And since the exile of her abject Minion,
Proves a stranger both to Manners and Obedience.
Cym.
She shall be forc'd to Duty.
What disobey her Father, slight her Queen?
Now by the awful Powers that sway the Heavens,
Paternal Love and Mildness I disclaim,
And as a Corrasive to my sick heart,
Hold her for ever.
Pisan.
Please your Majesty.
Cym.
Pisanio, do not speak.
I have with watchful eye observ'd thy actions,
Oft prob'd thy heart, and found it still corrupted,
Still link'd and fetter'd to that banish'd Fellow,
Maugre our strict Commands, and deep Resentments.
Why dost thou shame thy Age, and smile upon us?
Bend low thy knees as loyal, that art known
A Rebel to our Peace—Come, this is not well.
Pisan.
Royal Sir, and my most honour'd Master,
In whose bless'd favour I was ever happy,
12
As King, and Genius of the War, followed through death,
And as a God ador'd for Clemency.
Queen.
O smooth-tongu'd Vice, O Flatterer!
[Aside to the King.
Pisan.
Brand not your poor old Souldier, I beseech you,
With breach of Loyalty. I rebel to your Peace?
These Cheeks that have been furrow'd in your Service;
This Body scarr'd with wounds; these low sunk Tapers
Now dully shining in their wither'd Sockets,
And spent with watching in cold Winter Camps,
Have still been careful to preserve your Peace,
Not to disturb it. How then am I a Rebel?
Plebeian Sound it freezes all my bloud,
And adds a sharper Winter to my Age.
Queen.
The silver Hairs that grace thy Reverend Head,
Should grow in Wisdoms Soyl, thou shouldst be
Loyal: But who can tell a Murderer by his Face,
Or know when Treason's candi'd o're with Vertue?
'Tis said you love Ursaces, wish him King,
In hopes to make your self and Daughter mighty:
But these are but Reports, and claim small credit.
Pisan.
Slanders, hellish Slanders.
The poys'nous Bite of some detracting Villain,
That thinks my glass of Life has run too long:
So may my better part, my immortal Soul,
That guides the Orders of this aged Body,
And dignifies it from the sordid Bruit,
Return to its first Seat, its primitive Glory,
As I have always wish'd my Soveraign's Life,
And oft with hazard of my own defended it.
'Tis true I love Ursaces.
Queen.
Ha, mind that Sir!
Cymb.
You love him then, and tho' your enervate power
Dare not oppose our rage, you wish him well.
Pisan.
As he deserves Sir, modestly I think.
His Vertues merit some small approbation;
He's honest, valiant, and what's more, judicious;
Wise to his Youth, and temperate to his Judgement.
I once remember Sir, when the great Cassibelan
Sent me against the stubborn Cambria Rebels,
Then up in Arms, headed by old Bellarius,
At Milford-haven, I took Ursaces with me,
Who tho' a beardless Boy of 16 years,
Show'd many signal proofs of manly Valour,
Flesh'd his young Arm, and dy'd his virgin Sword,
In the best bloud of your proud Enemies.
This was some proof of Vertue, and deserves
Sure some applause.
13
He was rewarded for it.
His Majesty heap'd daily favours on him,
Bless'd him with smiles, and gave him the permission
Like a young Bird to wanton in his shine,
And grow even till he grew insolent,
And like a Bruit,
Sullied the Royal Spring that quench'd his thirst.
Pisan.
The Bonds of Love and Nature.
Cym.
Speak no more.
Upon thy Life no more in his defence.
Rash headlong Fool—how dar'st thou shock my will,
Or stand betwixt his sentence and my power?
Your service past pleads for you; but a second Crime
Of this curs'd nature rends thee from my Clemency.
[Exit.
Queen.
My Lord, You were to blame t'enrage the King,
With lavish praise of that desertless Exile:
But be not troubled, I will appear your Friend,
And stand between his anger and your fault.
Doctor, a word; my Lord, for a time leave us.
Pisan.
Thank your Majesty.
She's kind o'th' sudden, pray Heaven it portend good:
Such Flashes from her, like Etherial fire,
Are followed with a Thunder-bolt; I must be watchful.
[Exit.
Queen.
Yes, I will stand thy Friend, and such a one,
As fire to Cities, kindl'd by some Traitors;
Or the long-wing'd Hawk, to the weak prey she trusses.
Now, Doctor, have you brought the Drugs?
Doctor.
They are here, Madam.
Queen.
Well, there's your reward: Lock up your lips with the Key of
Secresie; whatever thou know'st, say nothing;
Do this; I'le load thy merit richly, move the King
To any shape for thy preferment: fare thee well;
Be faithful, then be great, thou hast my power.
[Exeunt.
Doctor.
That is, be a Rogue, and thrive; no Idol Greatness,
Thou guilded Pill, swallow'd by many thousands,
Ne're shalt thou infect my honesty.—She thinks she has
Strange lingring poyson; but I well knew her spirit,
And wou'd not trust one of her malice with a Drug
Of that damn'd nature: Those she has
Will stupifie and dull the sence a while,
And seemingly destroy; but there is
No danger in what show of death it makes,
More than the locking up the spirits a while,
To be more fresh reviving.—She is gull'd
With a most false Effect, and I the truer,
Hindring her black design with honesty.
[Exit.
14
SCENE II.
Enter Eugenia and Clarinna.Eugen.
Ah cruel Father, and a bloudy Queen!
Step-mother to my hopes as well as person,
A dull Fop Suitor to a wedded Lady,
That has her Husband banish'd. Can there be
A tide of woe like this—yet life to bear it?
Enter Lelia.
Lelia.
Madam, A Gentleman new arriv'd from Gallia,
Comes from my Lord with Letters.
Eugen.
What dost thou say, thy Lord? speak, speak again:
Oh thou art tedious! Said'st thou, from thy Lord?
Lelia.
Yes, Madam, and with Letters.
Eugen.
Fly to conduct him; be thy nimble speed
Swifter than Winds, or the Suns race—away.
[Exit Lelia.
Now my Clarinna, now my dearest Lord,
Remembers his poor Wife: Oh my full heart!
Enter Lelia with Shattillion, a Letter.
Shatt.
Madam, The brave Ursaces is in safety,
And thus salutes your Highness.
[Kisses her hand.
Eugen.
Most worthy Sir, You are the happiest Messenger
That ever Lady wish'd for—my dear Clarinna:
See all the doors be lock'd, lest the Queen
Come and disturb us.
Exit Clar.
Shatt.
I am proud to do you service; here are Letters.
Eugen.
The Index of my joy—I know the Hand:
For learn'd indeed were that Astronomer
That knew the Stars, as I his Character.
Wax, by your leave, (Oh be you ever bless'd!)
You pretty Bees, that make these locks of Counsel;
Bankrupts and Lovers have not equal prayers.
[Reads.
Shatt.
All outwardly seems most Angelical:
If she be fursnish'd with a mind so rare,
She is alone the Phenix of the World,
And I have lost my Wager.—Boldness befriend me;
Arm me Audacity from head to foot,
Or like the Parthians I shall flying fight,
And never keep my ground.
15
(Reads aloud.)
He is one of the noblest Note, to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely bound;
Reflect upon him accordingly as you value your
Ursaces.
So far I read aloud; but even the life-bloud
Of my heart is warm'd by the rest—Noble Sir,
The worth my Lord writes of you, shows your value.
Pray command here; you're welcome, Sir, to Britain.
Shatt.
Your Highness too much honours me:
Now to begin the Game, assist me Cunning.
[Aside.
Has Nature giv'n 'em eyes,
To see yon spangl'd Sky, and the rich crop
Of Sea and Land? Can they distinguish 'twixt
The Planetary Orbs, and th'numerous Pebbles
Upon the hungry Beach? and can they not,
Guided by humane Reason, make distinction
'Twixt fair and foul?
Eugen.
What makes your admiration?
Shatt.
Oh cursed lust!
Thou horrid, old, blind Devil of the flesh,
Why do men suffer thee to dam their Reason?
Eugen.
This is strange.—What's the matter, Sir? Continues
My Lord in health? Indeed you make me fear.
Shatt.
He's well, Madam.
Eugen.
Is he dispos'd to mirth? I hope he is.
Shatt.
Exceeding pleasant, not a Stranger there:
So gay and frollicksom.—He is nick-nam'd,
The Britain Reveller.
Eugen.
When he was here, he did incline to sadness,
And oftentimes not knowing why.
Shatt.
It seems then our sharp Air has cur'd him.
For my part I never saw him sad:
There's an Italian, his associate one,
An eminent Signieur, that has lately wedded
A plump young Bona Roba, and when he speaks
Of Constancy in Love, the roving Britain,
(Your Lord I mean) laughs from free Lungs, cryes, Oh
Can my Sides hold, to think that man, who knows
What Woman is, how loose and how imperfect,
Shou'd throw away a thought on such a trifle!
Eug.
Will my Lord say so? Pray speak.
Shatt.
Oh often, Madam!
And with his eyes flowing in tears of laughter.
It is a kind of sport, faith, to be by,
And hear him mock the Italian.
But Heaven knows, some men are much to blame.
Eug.
Not he, I hope.
Shatt.
Not he?
16
Nay, there is more in this, that cold Assertion,
Attended with a careless carriage, shows
You speak not what you think; my Lord, I fear,
Bless'd with the Gallian Beauties, forgets Britain.
Shatt.
Oh gracious Heaven! why dost thou show'r down blessings
Upon unthankful man, that hourly slights 'em,
And like the lavish hand of hood-wink'd chance,
Throw all to th'fool, and let the learn'd, wise and vertuous,
Pine out a miserable life in poverty?
Eug.
This still is from the matter; I beseech you, Sir,
What is't creates your wonder?
Shatt.
Something that moves my pity too.
Eug.
Who do you pity, Sir?
Shatt.
Two Creatures heartily.
Eug.
Pray Heaven it reach not hither: Am I one, Sir?
Shatt.
The more my Plague to know it you are one.
Eug.
How can I merit pity, my Lord being well,
As by this Letter I have proof he is?
The meaning of all this.
Shatt.
The meaning's fatal: Gods, Had I this Cheek
To bathe my Lips upon; this Hand, whose touch,
Whose every touch wou'd force the feeler's Soul
To th'Oath of Constancy; this Object, which
Takes prisoner the wild motion of the Eye,
Fixing it only here: Shou'd I, damn'd then,
Oh double damn'd, if ever so Apostate
Mingle with Lips, as common as the stairs
That mount the Capital.
Eug.
Hah!
Shatt.
Clasp Bodies plagued with all the pains
That Infamy can lend Nature: Swear, an Eye
Base, dead and glimmering as the smoaky Taper,
More bright than yours that lights that World of Beauty.
Shou'd I swear this, 'twere fit all Plagues of Hell
Shou'd bribe my Perjury.
Eug.
Why has my Lord, has my Ursaces sworn this?
Shatt.
I wou'd he had not.
Had I not heard it, he has so fair an outside,
Belief cou'd not have enter'd me.
Eug.
Oh misery!
Shatt.
Unhappy I that tell you this sad Story:
But Heaven knows my just and good design;
I cou'd not see you wrong'd, and keep you ignorant.
Eug.
Then is there nothing in Mankind but Vice?
No Faith, no Honour. Ye swift-footed hour,
Ye silent Witnesses of my true passion,
Call back his Oaths: How often has he sworn
To be for ever constant?
17
Oh he will swear extreamly!
He takes a kind of pleasure to be perjur'd.
Eug.
And will he kiss those Creatures?
Shatt.
Kiss 'um, Madam?
Alas, wou'd that were all! there's no great fault in kissing.
Eug.
Let me hear no more; be dumb to th'rest for ever.
Shatt.
I know he hates ye; he has almost own'd as much:
When fir'd with Wine and Lust, he told your fondness
In sport to his new Mistress.
Eug.
Oh hellish Act! Oh curs'd Ingratitude!
Shatt.
I swear, your sad Misfortunes strike a heart
That here vows to your service: Be reveng'd, Madam,
The way is easie.
Eug.
Reveng'd? Alas how shou'd I!
Unless upon my self, by sighs and weepings,
For loving that false man.
Shatt.
Another way
Courts your acceptance.
Eug.
How Sir?
Shatt.
'Tis the secret'st and the sweetest way:
I dedicate my self thus to your pleasure;
Thus pay my adoration to your Beauty:
I am a man born nobler than Ursaces,
As young, as vigorous, and far more constant,
And will continue fast to your affection,
Still close and sure.
Eug.
Oh Heaven! Is't possible? And will you love me too?
Shatt.
Love thee?—I, better than my Soul:
Were I assur'd of celestial Joys,
Long as its Immortality love thee.
The tender Mother loves not her first-born,
The Poet Fame, or the sick Youth his health,
With half that zeal.—Kind Fate, she comes, she yields:
Oh glorious Conquest!—Let me seal my Passion
Upon thy snowy hands transported, then rove higher,
And ransack this white Magazine of Beauty.
Here I shall find.
Eug.
That which thou meritest, Death.
[Offers a Dagger at him.
Detested Wretch, practis'd in Villany,
How I condemn my credulous Ears that have
So long been Traitors? Wert thou honourable,
Thou wou'dst have told me this for Vertues sake,
And not for such base Ends.
Who's there, Clarina?
The King my Father shall be made acquainted
Of this presumption, and by punishment,
Equal to the Crime, reward thy brutal folly.
18
'D's heart, this won't do, I must shift quickly, or I'me ruin'd.
Give me your gracious pardon:
What I have spoke was by your Lord's Command,
To try your Constancy, and find if distance
Cou'd play the Traitor with your faith and memory,
Which now I know unshook'd, and shall acquaint him.
Eug.
Can this be true? Cou'd my Lord doubt me then?
Shatt.
Alas you know, Madam, fierce Loves have still some jealousie!
He is a man of that clear equal temper,
That he inchants Societies unto him;
He sits amongst 'um like a descended God;
He has a kind of Grandeur sets him off,
More than a Mortal seeming. Be not angry then,
Oh chastest of thy kind! that I have adventur'd
To try your Vertue by a false Report,
Being oblig'd by Oath, and my design so honest.
Eug.
I'me satisfied; you appear clear again:
Pray use my Power i'th' Court.
Shatt.
My humble thanks; I had almost forgot
To entreat your Highness in a small Request,
And yet of moment too; for it concerns
Your Lord, my self, and other noble Friends,
That share in the design.
Eug.
Pray what is't?
Shatt.
A dozen of us Gentlemen, and your Lord,
The best feather of our Wing, have mingled Sums,
To buy a Present for the Roman Emperor,
Which I, the Factor for the rest, have done in Britain here:
'Tis Plate of rare device, and Jewels
Of rich and exquisite form; their value's great,
And I am something curious, being a Stranger,
To have them in safe custody: May it please ye
To take 'um in protection?
Eug.
Willingly.
Since 'tis my Lord's Concern, I'le have 'um kept
Here in my Apartment.
Shatt.
They are in a Chest,
Attended by my Men; I will presume
To send them to ye, only for this night,
I must aboard to morrow.
Eug.
So soon?
Shatt.
Indeed I must.
Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please
To greet your Lord by writing, do it to night,
For I've outstay'd the time that is material
To th'tender of our Present.
Eug.
I'le instantly about it.
19
And see it safe return'd.
Shatt.
Your Highness faithful Servant.
[Exeunt.
Enter Queen, Pisanio, and Attendants. A Viol.
Queen.
'Twas but a gust of Passion in the King,
That like a ruffling Storm shakes the tall Grove,
Yet in a moment's gone, and all is calm.
Pisan.
I am much a debtor to your Majesty.
Queen.
Besides you shou'd consider he is old,
Peevish with sickness, scarce had liv'd till now,
But for these Helps of Nature, this rich Cordial,
Which I have made through providence to help him:
This Glass is worth a Kingdom to the Sick;
I give it thee Pisanio, I give it as an Earnest
Of future favour; when thou art ill, drink this,
'Twill conquer the Disease, nay tho' given o're
By all Physicians, 'twill renew thy health.
Pisan.
Your Majesty's too gracious; but like the Sun,
Display your beams, and shed your kindly blessings
Upon a wither'd stump that cannot grow,
Tho' you can influence; this rich Cordial,
Tho' of this heavenly nature, can but add
A minute more to th'snuff of my life's Taper,
That yet must out at last.
Queen.
We all must die, my Lord:
But 'tis no harm sure to prolong a life,
When living we do well; therefore preserve it,
'Tis worth your care.—The King's in bed; good night,
My Lord.
Pisan.
Blessings still crown your Majesty.
Queen.
On him or Eugenia; if it work, I'me happy.
[Exit.
Pisan.
There is a mystery in her tide of Favours,
Heaven will not let me know: She always hated me,
'Cause I mislik'd her Son, yet now show'rs down
All Kindnesses, commends me to the King, takes care
Of my health, and gives me here a Cordial to preserve it.
But why may not all this be as a hook and bait,
To get me from my Element of Honesty?
Hah, it is, it must, I have it! Hah! beware then,
And tho' in Exile, show thou lov'st Ursaces,
That good, that brave young man; I wish Eugenia
Deserve him; I have some fears I saw a Stranger,
A tall, hot-blouded, fluttering Fellow,
An hour ago, strutting from her Apartment,
And as he went, the perfum'd Pulvillio left a scent behind him,
20
Pray Heaven she prove so; for if the Woman's
Fickle Devil once seize her,
Like a huge Stone she rowls the steepy Hill,
Not to be stopp'd by Conscience, Force, or Skill.
[Exit.
SCENE IV.
Discovers Eugenia in Bed; a Lady waiting; a Chest standing by.Eugen.
Who's there—Clarina?
Clarin.
Yes, Madam.
Eugen.
What hour is't my Dear?
Clarin.
Past Twelve above a quarter.
Eugen.
I have read three hours then.
My Eyes are weak;
Pray then go to Bed:
Indeed I trouble you; but leave the Candle burning,
And if thou think'st on't, bid my Woman call me
At five a Clock: Good night, Sleep seizes me;
[Sleeps.
To thy protection I commend me Heaven.
[Exit Clar.
Enter Shattillion from the Chest; a Table-book.
Shatt.
All's still as Death, and hush'd as Midnight silence:
Now the Crickets sing, and mortal wearied Sense
Repairs it self by rest. Lewd Tarquin thus.
Did softly tread and tremble, ere he wak'ned
The Chastity he wounded. Oh Soul of Beauty!
Sure none but I cou'd see thee thus, and leave thee
Thus in this lovely posture. But no more;
I've other business. Chill all my Bloud,
Ye Powers, and make me cold to her Allurements:
This is no loving minute; Come, to my design:
To note the Chamber: Here I'le write all down;
Such and such Pictures; there the Window; such
The adornment of her Bed; the Arras Figures:
Why such, and such, and the Contents o'th' Story.
Ay but some natural Notes about her Body,
Above ten thousand meaner Witnesses,
Wou'd testifie to enrich my Inventory.
She stirs, and he starts back.
What's there, a Bracelet on her Arm? 'Tis so.
Now sleep thou Ape of Death, lye dull upon her;
21
Thus in a Chappel lying. Fortune befriend me;
'Tis mine, and this will witness outwardly,
As strongly as the Conscience does within,
To th'torture of her Lord: On her left Breast,
A Mole Cinque, spotted like the Crimson drops
In the bottom of a Cowslip: Here's a Voucher
Stronger than ever Law cou'd make; this Secret
Will force him think I've pick'd the Lock, and stoll'n
The Treasure of her Honour. No, now I have enough:
To th'Chest agen.
Swift, swift ye Dragons of the Night; lov'd Phospher,
Return the welcome day, I lodge in fear,
Tho' there's a heavenly Angel, Hell is here.
[Gets into the Chest.
Enter Cloten, Gentlemen, Silvio, Musicians and Dancers.
Clot.
I Gad this damn'd Armour is plaguy troublesom:
Does it become Florio? Hah! Do I look like one
That cou'd slay my ten thousand in a morning, and
Never sweat for't? Have I the sow'r Look of a Heroe?
Silvio.
Your Look will cause more wonder than fear, my
Lord; you are too young to be very terrible.
Clot.
Nay I know I shou'd look more like a Warrier,
If I were not so handsom; Pox on't, I have
Look'd so clear ever since I took Physick last,
That Gad I'me afraid people begin to think I paint.
Silvio.
They often look smiling on you, I confess.
Clot.
Come, begin then, first play and then sing; you shall
Charm her with your Fingers, and you with your Tongue,
Whilst I, God Mars, brandish my Weapon; and if
Tonguing, fingering and fighting, don't please her,
The Devil's in her.
Flutes and a Song here; a Lady looks out.
Lelia.
My Lady is rising Sir, she hears your Musick.
Clot.
Ud so, she peeps through the Window yonder now.
The Dance, the Dance.
Enter Eugenia and Clarina.
She comes; away all and leave me to her.
[Exeunt.
Good morrow to the radiant Queen of Beauty;
Fierce Mars in Field with Sword and Shield yields
Thee the time o'th' day.
Eugen.
I am covetous of thanks Sir, and scarce can spare 'um,
22
Gad that's a little morose tho', to a Deity of my
Valour and Quality.
Eugen.
It suits my Humour Sir: but pray why thus in Armour?
You amongst all men in my opinion,
Need not Burlesque your self.
Clot.
Burlesque? Now she mauls me with her hard words.
Madam, I love and honour you in plain terms; pray
Give your consent, and let's be married; your Heroes hate delays.
Eugen.
Married, what to such a Figure?
Clot.
Figure? Why I'me a Lord, and the Queen's my Mother,
As inconsiderable a Figure as you make me; Gads, that's
More than a banish'd Fellow of your Acquaintance can
Pretend to, since you go to that.
Eugen.
That banish'd Fellow is a God, when ballanc'd
With your weak merit; I swear his meanest
Garment that ever touch'd his Body, is more dear to me
Than the life's service of a hundred Cloten's.
Clot.
His Garment? A Plague, what his Shirt?
Eugen.
Hah! my Bracelet lost, my dear Lelia?
Run to my Woman instantly.
Clot.
His Garment did you say?
Eugen.
I am sprighted with a Fool, frighted and anger'd worse:
Bid her, Clarina, search for a Bracelet, that too
Casually hath left my Arm;
I wou'd not lose it for a King's Revenue;
I think I saw't this morning; sure I am,
Last night 'twas on my Arm, I kiss'd it;
I hope it is not gone to tell my Lord,
That I kiss ought but him.
[Exit Clar.
Clot.
His Shirt, what his contaminated Shirt,
Preferr'd before my Service? I'le be reveng'd;
I'le not take this; by Jove, I'le tell your Father.
[Exit Clot.
Eugen.
Daily to live thus tortur'd by this Fool,
Is double misery; therefore I'me now resolv'd
To free my self: The way is thus contriv'd;
I'le steal from Court in a disguise; Pisanio
I know will stand my Friend through his Life's hazard,
And never shrink at danger: This once done,
With joy I'le meet my dearest Lord in Exile,
Feed him with Love, and sweeten all his Cares
With soft Embraces; then each happy night,
Fancy a Palace of a poor Retreat,
And slight the inconstant Glories of the Great.
[Exit.
| The Injured Princess, or the Fatal Wager | |