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Actus secundus.

The order and signification of the dōme shewe before the second Acte.

First the Musicke of Cornettes began to playe,during whiche came in vpon the Stage a kinge accompanied with a nombre of his Nobylytie & Gentlemen. And after he had placed him selfe in a Chaire of estate prepared for him: there came and kneled before him a graue and aged Gentilman and offred vp a Cuppe vnto hym of Wyne in a glasse, whiche the kynge refused. After him cōmes a braue and lustie yong Gentelman and presentes the king with a Cup of Golde filled wt poison, which the king accepted, & drinkinge the same, immediatly fell down dead vpon ye stage, & so was carried thence awaye by his Lordes and Gentelmen, & then the Musicke ceased. Hereby was signified, that as Glasse by nature holdeth no poyson, but is clere and maye easely be seene throughe, ne howeth by any Arte: So a faithfull

Counsellour holdeth no treason, but is playne & open, ne yeldeth to any vndiscrete affection, but geueth holsome Counsell, whiche the yll aduised Prince refuseth. The delightfull golde filled wt poyson betokeneth Flattery, whiche vnder faire seeming of pleasaunt words beareth deadly poyson, whiche destroieth the Prince yt receiueth it. As befell in the two brethrene Ferrex and Porrex who refusing the holsome aduise of graue Counsellours, credited these yonge Paracites & brought to them selues death and destruction therby.

Scena prima.

Ferrex. Hermon. Dordan.
Ferrex.
I meruaile muche what reason leade the kynge
My father thus without all my desarte
To reue me halfe ye kingdome which by course
Of lawe and nature shuld remayne to me.

Hermon.
If you with stubborne and vntamed pryde
Had stood against him in rebellious wise,
Or if with grudging minde you had enuied
So slowe a slidynge of his aged yeres,
Or sought before your time to haste the course
Of fatall death vpon his Royall head,
Or stained your Stocke with murder of your kyn:
Some face of reason might perhaps haue seemed
To yelde some likely cause to spoile ye thus.

Ferrex.
The wrekefull Gods powre on my cursed head,
Eternall plagues and neuer dyinge woes,
The Hellish Prince, adiudge my dampned ghoste
To Tantalus thirste, or proude Ixions wheele
Or cruell Gripe to gnawe my growing harte
To durynge tormentes and vnquenched flames
If euer I conceiued so foule a thought,
To wisshe his ende of life, or yet of reigne.

Dordan.
Ne yet your father (O most noble Prince)
Did euer thinke so fowle a thing of you
For he with more than fathers tendre loue
While yet the fates do lende him life to rule,
(Who long might lyue to se your rulynge well)
To you my Lorde, and to his other sonne
Lo he resignes his Realme and Royaltie
Whiche neuer would so wise a Prince haue done
If he had ones misdemed that in your harte
There euer lodged so vnkinde a thought.
But tendre loue (my Lorde) and setled truste
Of your good nature, and your noble minde
Made him to place you thus in Royall throne
And now to geue you half his realme to guide
Yea and that halfe within abounding store
Of things that serue to make a welthie Realme
In statelie Cities and in frutefull soyle,
In temperate breathing of the milder heauen,
In thinges of nedefull vse, whiche frendlie Sea
Transportes by traffike from the forreine Portes.
In flowing wealth, in honour and in force,
Doth passe the double value of the parte
That Porrex hath allotted to his reigne,
Suche is your case, suche is your fathers loue.

Ferrex.
Ah loue, my frendes, loue wrongs not whom he loues.

Dordan.
Ne yet he wrongeth you that geueth you
So large a reigne ere that the course of tyme
Bringe you to kingdome by discended right,
Which time perhaps might end your time before.

Ferrex.
Is this no wrong, saie you, to reaue from me
My natiue right of halfe so great a realme,
And thus to matche his yonger sonne with me
In egall power, and in as great degree:
Yea & what sonne? ye sonne whose swellyng pryde
Woulde neuer yelde one poinct of reuerence,
Whan I the Elder and apparaunt heire
Stoode in the likelyhode to possesse the whole
Yea and that sonne whiche from his childishe age
Enuieth myne honour, and doth hate my life,
What will he nowe do? when his pride, his rage,
The mindefull malice of his grudging harte
Is armed with force, with wealth and kingly state

Hermon.
Was this not wrong? yea yll aduised wrong
To giue so mad a man so sharpe a sworde,
To so great perill of so great mishappe,
Wide open thus to set so large a waye.

Dordan.
Alas my Lorde, what griefull thing is this?
That of your brother you can thinke so ill
I neuer sawe him vtter likelie signe
Whereby a man might see or once misdeme
Suche hate of you, ne suche vnyeldinge pride
Ill is their counsell, shamefull be their ende,
That raising suche mistrustfull feare in you,
Sowing the seede of suche vnkindly hate,
Trauaile by reason to destroy you both:
Wise is your brother and of noble hope,
Worthie to welde a large and mightie Realme
So muche a stronger frende haue you therby,
Whose strēgth is your strēgth, if you gree in one.

Hermon.
If nature and the Goddes had pinched so
Their flowing bountie and their noble giftes
Of Princelie qualyties from you my Lorde
And powrde them all at ones in wastfull wise
Upon your fathers younger sonne alone:
Perhappes there be that in your preiudice
Would saie that birth shuld yeld to worthines:
But sithe in eche good gift and Princelie Acte
Ye are his matche, and in the chiefe of all
In mildenes and in sobre gouernaunce
ye farre surmount: And sithe there is in you
Sufficing skill and hopefull towardnes
To weld the whole, and match your Elders praise
I see no cause whie ye should loose the halfe,
Ne wold I wisshe you yelde to suche a losse:
Lest your milde sufferaunce of so great a wronge
Be deemed cowardishe and simple dreade:
Whiche shall geue courage to the fierie head
Of your yonge Brother to inuade the whole,
Whiles yet therfore stickes in the peoples mynde
The lothed wronge of your disheritaunce,
And ere your Brother haue by settled power,
By guylefull cloke of an allurynge showe,
Got him some force and fauour in this Realme
And while the noble Queene your mother lyues,
To worke and practice all for your auaile
Attempt redresse by Armes, and wreake your selfe
Upon his life, that gaineth by your losse,
Who nowe to shame of you, and griefe of vs
In your owne kingdome triumphes ouer you:
Shew now your courage meete for kingly estate
That thei which haue auowed to spēd their goods
Their landes, their liues & honours in your cause,
Maye be the bolder to mainteine your parte
whan thei do see that cowarde feare in you,
Shall not betraye ne saile their faithfull hartes.
If ones the death of Porrex ende the strife,
And paie the price of his vsurped Reigne,
Your Mother shall perswade the angry kynge,
The Lords your frends eke shall appease his rage
For thei be wise, and well thei can forsee,
That ere longe time your aged fathers death
will brynge a time when you shall well requite
Their frendlie fauour, or their hatefull spite.
Yea, or their slackenes to auaunce your cause
Wise men do not so hange on passyng state
Of present Princes, chiefely in their age.
But they will further cast their reachinge eye
To viewe and weigh the times & reignes to come
Ne is it lykely thoughe the kinge be wrothe
That he yet will, or that the Realme will beare
Extreme reuenge vpon his onelye sonne:
Or if he woulde, what one is he that dare
Be ministre to suche an enterprise.
And here you be nowe placed in your owne
Amyd your frendes, your vassalles & your strength
We shall defende and kepe your person safe
Tyll either counsell turne his tender minde
Or age, or sorowe ende his werie daies
But if the feare of Goddes and secrete grudge
Of Natures Lawe, repynynge at the facte,
Withholde your courage from so great attempt:
Knowe ye that lust of kingdomes hath no Lawe
The Goddes do beare and well allowe in kinges
The thinges they abhorre in rascall routes.
When kinges on sclender quarrels ron to warres
And than in cruell and vnkindely wise,
Cōmaunde theftes, rapes, murder of Innocentes
To spoile of townes, & reignes of mighty realmes
Thinke you such Princes do suppresse them selues
Subiect to Lawes of kinde and feare of Gods,
Yet none offence, but decked with glorious name
Of noble Conquestes in the handes of kinges,
Murders and violent theftes in priuate men
Are heynous crymes and full of foule reproche:
But if you like not yet so hote deuise,
Ne list to take suche vauntage of the time.
But thoughe with great perill of your state
You wil not be the first that shall inuade,
Assemble yet your force for your defence,
And for your safetie stande vpon your garde.

Dordan.
O heauen was there euer harde or knowen,
So wicked Counsell to a noble Prince?
Let me (my Lorde) disclose vnto your grace
This heynous tale, what mischiefe it conteynes:
Your fathers death, your brothers and your owne,
your present murder and eternall shame:
Heare me (O king) and suffre not to sinke
So highe a treason in your Princelie brest.

Ferrex.
The mightie Goddes forbyd that euer I
Shuld once conceiue suche mischiefe in my harte
Althoughe my Brother hath bereft my Realme
And beare perhappes to me an hatefull minde.
Shall I reuenge it, with his death therfore?
Or shall I so destroy my fathers lyfe
That gaue me life? the Gods forbyd I saye,
Cease you to speake so any more to me
Ne you my friende with Aunswere once repeate
So foule a tale, in scilence let it die:
What Lorde or Subiect shall haue hope at all
That vnder me they safely shall enioye
Their goods, their honours, landes and liberties,
With whome, neither one onely brother deare
Ne father dearer, coulde enioye their lyues?
But sithe, I feare my younger brothers rage,
And sithe perhappes some other man may gyue
Some like aduise, to moue his grudging head
At mine estate: whiche counsell may perchaunce
Take greater force with him, than this with me,
I will in secrete so prepare my selfe,
As if his malice or his lust to reigne
Breake forth with Armes or sodeine violence
I may withstande his rage and kepe myne owne.

Dordan.
I feare the fatall time now draweth on
When ciuyll hate shall ende the noble lyne
Of famouse Brute and of his Royall seede
Great Ioue defende the mischiefes nowe at hande
O that the Secretaries wise aduise
Had erst ben harde whan he besought the kynge
Not to deuide his lande, nor sende his sonnes
To further partes from presence of his Courte
Ne yet to yelde to them his gouernaunce
Lo suche are they nowe in the Royall throne
As was rashe Phaeton in Phebus Carre
Ne then the fiery stedes did drawe the flame
With wilder randon through the kindled skies
Then traiterous councell now will wherle about
The youthfull heads of these vnskilfull kinges,
But I hereof their father will enforme
The reuerence of him perhappes shall staye
The growing mischiefes, while thei yet are grene
If this helpe not, then wo vnto them selues,
The Prince, the people, the deuided lande.

Scena secunda.

Porrex. Tyndar. Philander.
Porrex.
And is it thus? And doth he so prepare
Against his Brother as his mortall foe?
And nowe whyle yet his aged father lyues:
Neither regardes he him? nor feares he me?
Warre would he haue? and he shall haue it so.

Tyndar.
I sawe my selfe the great prepared store
Of Horse, of Armours and of weapons there,
Ne brynge I to my Lorde reported tales
Without the ground of seene and serched trouthe
Loe secrete quarrelles ronne about his Courte
To bringe the name of you my Lorde in hate
Eche man almost can nowe debate the cause
And aske a reason of so great a wronge,
While he so noble and so wise a Prince,
Is as vnworthie reft his Heritage.
And whie the kinge mislead by craftie meanes
Deuided thus his lande from course of right.
The wiser sorte holde downe their griefull heades
Eche man withdrawes from talke and companie,
Of those that haue ben knowen to fauour you,
To hide the mischiefe of their meaninge there,
Rumours are spred of your preparynge here.
The Rascall nombres of the vnskilfull sorte
Are filled with monsterous tales of you and yours
In secrete I was counsailed by my friendes
To hast me thence, and brought you as you know
Letters from those, that both can truely tell
And would not write vnlesse they knewe it well.

Philander.
My Lorde, yet ere you nowe vnkindely warre,
Sende to your Brother to demaunde the cause.
Perhappes some trayterous tales haue filled his eares
wt false reports against your noble grace:
Which once disclosed shal ende the growing strife
That els not staied with wise foresight in time
Shall hazarde both your kingdomes & your lyues:
Sende to your father eke, he shall appease
Your kindled mindes, and rid you of this feare.

Porrex.
Ridde me of feare? I feare him not at all:
Ne will to him, ne to my father sende
If daunger were for one to tarye there
Thinke ye it safely to retourne againe.
In mischiefes suche as Ferrex nowe intendes
The wonted courteous Lawes to Messengers
Are not obserued, whiche in iust warre they vse.
Shall I so hazarde any one of myne?
Shall I betraie my trustie friende to hym?
That hath disclosed his treason vnto me?
Let him entreate that feares, I feare him not:
Or shall I to the kinge my father sende?
Yea and sende nowe while suche a mother lyues
That loues my Brother and that hateth mee?
Shall I geue leasure by my fonde delayes
To Ferrex to oppresse me at vnware?
I will not, but I will inuade his Realme
And seeke the Traitour Prince within his Court
Mischiefe for mischiefe is a due rewarde.
His wretched head shall paie the worthie pryce
Of this his Treason and his hate to me.
Shall I abide, entreate and sende and praie?
And holde my yelden throate to Traitours knife?
While I with valiaunt minde & conquering force
Might rid my selfe of foes: and winne a Realme,
Yet rather when I haue the wretches head,
Than to the king my father will I sende,
The booteles case may yet appease his wrath:
If not I will defend me as I maye.

Philander.
Loe here the ende of these two youthfull kings
The fathers deth, the reigne of their two realmes
O most vnhappy state of Counsellours
That light on so vnhappy Lordes and times
That neither can their good aduise be harde,
Yet must thei beare the blames of yll successe
But I will to the king their father haste
Ere this mischiefe come to that likely ende,
That if the mindefull wrath of wrekefull Gods
Since mightie Ilions fall not yet appeased
With these poore remnant of the Troians name
Haue not determinedlie vnmoued fate
Out of this Realme to rase the Brutish Line
By good aduise, by awe of fathers name
By force of wiser Lordes, this kindled hate
Maye yet be quentched, ere it consume vs all.

Chorus.