 | The Royall King, and The Loyall Subject |  |
Actus Quintus.
Enter Clinton and Chester.Clin.
And why so sad my Lord?
Chest.
I am all dulnesse,
There's no life in me, I have lost my spirit,
And fluence of my braine: observe you not
In what a height yon fellow now resides
That was so late dejected; trebly grafted
Into the Royall blood? what can succeed,
But that we all our honours must resigne,
And he of them be repossest againe?
Clin.
The Marriages indeed are celebrated.
Chest.
And they have all our pointed stratagems
Turn'd backe upon our selves.
Clin.
What, no prevention?
Chest.
His Basses are so fixt he cannot shrinke,
Being so many wayes ingraft and planted
In the Kings blood: but our supporters stand
As shak't with Earthquakes, or else built on sand.
Enter Audley and Bonvile.
Aud.
My Lords attend the King, and cleare this chamber,
For this nights revells 'tis the place prepar'd.
Bon.
Your duties Lords, the King's upon his entrance.
Enter the King, the Queene, the Prince, his wife, the Martiall and the Princesse.
King.
Ey, so 'tmust be, each man hand his owne:
For I am where I love; we are even coupled,
Princesse.
Here's one falls off from me.
King.
How now my Lord, dejected in your looks?
Or doth our sports distaste you?
Mar.
Pardon me,
I cannot dance my Liege.
King.
You can looke on:
My Lord, you take his place, wee'le have a measure,
And I will lead it; bid the Musicke strike.
A measure: in the midst the Martiall goes discontented away.
So, well done Ladies: but we misse the Husband
To our faire Daughter, what's become of him?
Chest.
Gone discontented hence.
King.
What might this meane?
Doth he distaste his Bride, or envy us
That are degree'd above him? where's our Queene?
Queen.
My Liege?
King.
You shall unto him instantly,
Attended with a beauteous traine of Ladies,
And to his Chamber beare his princely Bride.
Bonvile, take you her royall Dower along,
You shall receive it of our Treasurer.
Cap.
I shall my Lord.
King.
Vsher the Queene and Ladies, be their guide,
That done, each one to bed with his faire Bride.
Enter Martiall.
Mar.
I am so high, that when I looke but downe,
To see how farre the earth is under me,
It quakes my body, and quite chills my blood:
And in my feare although I stand secure,
I am like him that falls. I but a subject,
And married to the Daughter of the King,
Though some may thinke me happy in this match,
To me 'tis fearefull: who would have a wife
Above him in command, to imbrace with awe,
Whom to displease, is to distaste the King?
A Queene, and not a subjects bed-fellow.
State I could wish abroad to crowne my head,
But never yet lov'd Empire in my bed.
Enter servant.
Serv.
The Queene your daughter with your princely Bride,
And other Ladies, make way towards your chamber.
Mar.
'Tis open to receive them, pray them in.
Enter Bonvile, the Queene, the Princesse, &c.
Queen.
My Lord the King commends his love to you
In your faire Bride, whom royally conducted
He hath sent to be the partner of your bed.
Mar.
Whom we receive in the armes of gratitude,
Duty to him, and nuptiall love to her.
Prince.
'Tis well they brought me, trust me my deare Lord,
I should have scarce had face to have come my selfe;
But yet their boldnesse mixt with mine together,
Makes me to venter I yet scarce know whither.
Mar.
'Tis to our Nuptiall bed.
Princesse.
Ey so they say,
But unto me it is a pach unknowne;
Yet that which cheeres me, I shall doe no more
Than those, and such as I have done before.
Sure 'tis a thing that must, though without skill,
Even when you please, I am ready for your will.
Cap.
With her the King hath sent this princely dower,
In which his love and bounty hee commends.
Mar.
You are noble Sir, and honour waites on you
To crowne your future fortunes: for that Casket,
Her beauty and her birth are dower sufficient
For me a subject.
I cannot thinke so much good to my King
As I am owing for her single selfe:
Then with all duty pray returne that summe.
Her dower is in her selfe, and that I'le keepe
Which in these loyall armes this night shall sleepe:
That is the Kings, with that this jewell too,
My second duty in that gift commend,
Were I worth more, more I have will to send.
Cap.
An Emperor cannot shew more Royalty
Than this brave Peere, hee's all magnificent:
I shall with the best eloquence I have,
Make knowne your thoughts.
Mar.
To all at once good night:
Save this my beauteous Bride, no wealth I prize,
That hath my heart tooke captive in her eyes.
Lights for the Queene and Ladies, night growes old,
I count my Vertue treasure, not my Gold.
Exeunt divers wayes.
Enter Clinton to the Earle Chester in his study.
Clin.
What not at rest my Lord?
Chest.
Why who can sleepe
That hath a labouring braine, and sees from farre
So many stormes and tempests threaten him?
It is not in my element to doo't.
Clin.
Finde you no project yet how to remove him?
Chest.
None, none, and therefore can I finde no rest.
Clin.
It growes towards day.
Chest.
That day is night to me,
Whil'st yon Sunne shines: I had this even some conference
In private with the King, in which I urg'd
The Martialls discontent, withall inferr'd,
That by his looke the Princesse he despis'd:
The King chang'd face: and could we second this
By any new conjecture, there were hope.
To draw him in displeasure.
Clin.
Watch advantage,
And as you finde the humour of the King,
Worke it unto the Martialls deepe disgrace:
But soft the Prince.
Enter the Prince and Katherine.
Kath.
So early up, how did you like your rest?
Prince.
I found my most rest in my most unrest;
A little sleepe serves a new married man:
A Woman of a Maide.
Kath.
You were up
Both late and early.
Prince.
Why you were abroad
Before the Sunne was up, and the most wise
Doe say 'tis healthfull still betimes to rise.
Good day.
Chest.
In one, ten thousand.
Prince.
Lords, you have not seene
The King to day? it was his custome ever
Still to be stirring early with the Sunne;
But here's his Majesty.
Enter Captaine and the King, Audley, and Bonvile.
King.
Not all your smooth and cunning Oratory
Can colour so his pride, but we esteeme him
A flattering Traytor, one that scornes our love,
And in disdaine sent backe our Daughters Dower:
Your Iudgement Lords?
Chest.
Hath he refus'd the Princesse?
King.
No; but her Dower sent back, and insolently;
Her whom we gave, he with a gift would buy,
A jewell: shall we merchandize our Daughter,
As one not able to bestow her nobly,
But that our poverty must force us sell her?
Cap.
Your Highnesse much mispriseth his intent,
For he had no such thought.
King.
We know his pride,
Which his ambition can no longer shadow.
Chest.
Your Highnesse might doe well to call in question
His insolence, and to arraigne him for't.
King.
Be you his Iudges Bonvile, Audley, you;
Command him straight on his Allegiance,
To make appearance, and to answer us
Before our Lords of his contempt and scorne.
Bonv.
Shall we command and him hither?
From his bed,
And if convicted, he shall surely pay for't.
Aud.
We shall my Lord.
Chest.
Arraigne him on the suddaine, e're it provied;
Let him not dreame upon evasive shftes,
But take him unprepared.
Clin.
Shall we command
A Barre, and call a Iury of his Peeres,
Whil'st Chester, that enjoyes the place of Martiall,
Objects such Allegations 'gainst his life,
As he hath drawne out of his rude demeanor?
King.
It shall be so; a Barre, and instantly
We will our selfe in person heare him speake,
And see what iust excuse he can produce
For his contempt.
Prince.
My gracious Lord and Father,
What he hath done to you, proceeds of honour,
Not of disdaine, or scorne; hee's truely noble:
And if a Regall bounty be a sinne
In any subject, hee's onely guilty
Of that true vertue.
Cap.
Saw your Majesty
With what an humble zeale, and prostrate love
He did retender your faire Daughters Dower,
You would not his intent thus misreceive.
Chest.
'Tis humble pride, and meere hypocrisie
To blinde the King, 'tis but ambitious zeale,
And a dissembling cunning to aspire.
Kath.
My Father call'd in question for his life?
Oh let not me a sad spectator be
Of such a dismall object.
Prince.
Nor will I,
But leave them to their hated cruelty.
King.
This is no place for Ladies, we allow
Her absence; of the rest let none depart,
Till we have search't the cunning of his heart.
Mar.
A Barre, a Iudgement seate, and Iury set?
Yet cannot all this daunt our innocence.
Chest.
You have disloyally sought to exceed
The King your Soveraigne, and his royall deeds
To blemish, which your fellow Peeres thus conster,
That strengthen'd by th'alliance of the King,
And better armed by the peoples love,
You may prove dangerous.
In policy of state to quench the sparkes
Before they grow to flame, and top your height,
Before your spacious branches spread too farre,
What to this generall motion can you say,
Before we taxe you with particulars?
Mar.
With reverence to the State 'fore which I stand,
That you my Lord of Chester appeare shallow,
To thinke my actions can disgrace the Kings,
As if the luster of a petty Starre
Should with the Moone compare: Alas, my deeds
Conferr'd with his, are like a Candles light
To out-shine the mid-dayes glory. Can the King
The glorious mirrour of all gratitude,
Condemne that vertue in anothers bosome,
Which in his owne shines so transparantly?
Oh pardon me, meere vertue is my end,
Whose pitch the King doth many times transcend.
Clin.
To taxe you more succinctly, you have first
Abus'd the King in sending to the Court
Your daughter lesse faire, and the least belov'd.
Aud.
And that includes contempt most barbarous,
Which you in that unsubject-like exprest:
Your former emulations we omit,
As things that may finde tolerable excuse,
And are indeed not matters capitall:
Out of his bounty and magnificence
Vouchsaft to stile thee with the name of sonne,
Being but a subject, with contorted browes
And lookes of scorne you tooke his courtesie,
And in contempt sent backe the Princesse dower.
Chest.
Most true; a grounded proposition
To question you of life.
Mar.
My life my lords?
It pleases me, that the King in person daines
To grace my cause with his Majesticke eare:
You plead for me in this, and speake my excuse.
I have but two in all,
He sent for one, and he receiv'd them both,
With them a sweete and lovely Prince to boote;
Who ever lost, I am sure the King hath wonne
At once, a wife, a daughter, and a sonne.
Bonv.
'Tis true my Lord, we all can witnesse it.
Mar.
He that my discontent objects to me,
With the faire Princesse speakes uncertainly.
The man judicious such for fooles allowes,
As have their inward hearts drawne in their browes:
Is there in all that bench a man so honest
That can in this be discontent with me?
I charge you all; those favours I receive
From his high Majesty, I swallow not
With greedy appetite, perhaps like you:
When I am grac't, it comes with awe and feare,
Lest I offend that Prince that holds me deare.
That for my brow.
Chest.
But for your scornfull sending
Of the faire Princesse dower backe to th' King,
How can you answer that?
Mar.
Why Chester thus:
I am a man, though subject; if the meanest
Lord or'e his wife; why should that priviledge
Be onely bard me? should I wive an Empresse,
In that my bounty equalls her estate.
Witnesse that Iudge above you, I esteeme
The Princesse dearely, and yet married her
But as my wife, for which I am infinitely
Bound to the King: why should I grow ingag'd
Above my power, since this my Lords you know,
The lesse we runne in debt, the lesse we owe.
Give me my thoughts, and score you on I pray,
I wish no more than I have meanes to pay.
Chest.
Shall we my Lord his actions censure freely?
King.
And sentence them.
Aud.
A Persian History
I read of late, how the great Sophy once
Flying a noble Falcon at the Heme,
In comes by chance an Eagle sousing by,
Which when the Hawke espyes, leaves her first game,
And boldly venters on the King of Birds;
Long tug'd they in the Ayre, till at the length
The Falcon better breath'd, seiz'd on the Eagle,
And struck it dead: The Barons prais'd the Bird,
And for her courage she was peerelesse held.
The Emperor, after some deliberate thoughts,
Made him no lesse: he caus'd a Crowne of gold
To be new fram'd, and fitted to her head
In honour of her courage: Then the Bird
With great applause was to the market-place
In triumph borne, where, when her utmost worth
Had beene proclaim'd, the common Executioner
First by the Kings command tooke off her Crowne,
And after with a sword strooke off her head,
As one no better than a noble Traytor
Vnto the King of Birds.
Chest.
This use we make
From this your ancient Persian History,
That you a noble and a courteous Peere,
Prais'd for your hospitall vertues and high bounty,
But since you durst against your Soveraigne
Oppose your selfe, you by your pride misled,
Shall as a noble Traytor loose your head.
King.
That Sentence we confirme, and it shall stand
Irrevocable by our streight command.
Mar.
I am glad my Liege I have a life yet left,
In which to shew my bounty, even in that
I will be liberall, and spend it for you;
Take it, 'tis the last jewell that I have,
In liew of which oh grant me but a grave.
King.
A Laurell wreath, a scaffold, and a blocke,
Our selfe will see the Execution done:
Onely thy life is ours, thy goods are free.
Mar.
My Lord, you are the life of courtesie,
And you are kinde unto me above measure,
To give away what might enrich your selfe.
Since they are mine, I will bestow them thus:
The best of those that were so late but yours,
My jewells, I, by will, restore you backe,
You shall receive them separate from the rest:
To you the Kings sonne, and by marriage mine,
On you I will bestow my Armory,
Stables of Horse, and weapons for the warres,
I know you love a Souldier: to the Princesse,
And my two Daughters I give equall portions
From my revenue; but if my faire wife
Proove, and produce a Male-child, him I make
My universall Heire, but if a Female,
Her Dower is with the rest proportionable.
The next I give, it is my Soule to Heaven,
Where my Creator reignes: my words thus end,
Body to Earth, my Soule to Heaven ascend.
Enter the Queene, Katherine, the Princesse, and the other Lady.
Princesse.
Stay.
Queene.
Hold
Kath.
Executioner forbeare.
Heare me a Daughter for a Father plead.
Princesse.
Oh Father, heare me for my Husbands life,
Doubly ally'd, I am his Neece and Wife.
Kath.
Oh Father heare me, for a Father crave.
Queene.
Than sentence him oh let me perish rather;
I pleade for him that's both my sonne and Father.
Kath.
Oh make your mercy to this prisoner free.
Queene.
Father to us.
Princesse.
And Husband unto me.
King.
Hence with these womanish clamours.
Prince.
Vnto these
Let me my Liege presume to adde another,
Behold him kneele that is your sonne and brother.
Kath.
Your Sister and your Daughter great King heare.
Princesse.
Your Mother and your Daughter.
Queene.
Or like deare,
Your Queene and Sister.
Princesse.
Speake, what hath he done?
Prince.
Who ever saw a father on a sonne
Give sentence? or my Royall Lord, which rather
Addes to your guilt, a sonne condemne the father?
Chest.
My Liege, command them hence, they but disturbe
The Traytor in his death.
King.
A Traytor's he
That dares so tearme him, Chester, we meane thee:
Our best of subjects, with our height of grace
We wedde thee to us, in this strict imbrace
Thy vertues, bounties, envy'd courtesies;
Thy courage, and thy constancy in death,
Thy love and Loyalty to the end continued,
More than their clamorous importunities
Prevaile with us: then as our best and greatest,
Not to exceed, but equall thee in love,
To end betweene us this Heroick strife,
Accept what we most pecioushold, thy Life.
Mar.
Which as your gift I'le keepe, till Heaven & Nature
Confine it hence, and alwayes it expose
Bnt since 'twas yours, and by your gift now mine.
King.
I observe in thee
The substance of all perfect Loyalty;
In you save flattery, envy; hate, and pride
Nothing, or ought to goodnesse that's ally'd;
Resigne those places that belong to him,
Better than so borne noble, be unborne.
Till you your hearts can fashion to your faces,
We here suspend you from your stiles and places.
Prince.
A royall doome.
King.
Once more from us receive
Thy beauteous Bride, as we will hand our Queene:
The Prince already is possest of his.
Nay Bonvile, as your Bridals were together,
So follow in your ranke, and by the stile
Of a Lord Baron, you are now no lesse
If you dare take our word: Our Funerals thus
Wee'le turne to feasting, and our blood to wines
Of most choice taste, prest from the purest Grape.
Our noble Martiall, kinsman, and our friend,
In our two vertues after times shall sing,
A Loyall Subject, and a Royall King.
| The Royall King, and The Loyall Subject | |