 | The Treacherous Brothers |  |
SCENE II.
Enter Menaphon and Orgillus.Men.
Now Brother does the fatall time draw on,
That must or give me Death, or full revenge,
For all the Scorn, and slights were thrown on me,
By that Proud, haughty, and disdainfull Beauty.
This hour shall put an end to all her quiet,
For I will work the King to that degree
Of Rage, and Jealousy, that if his Soul
Can harbour any sence of those great wrongs,
As he most Certain shall believe is done him,
I know Immediate Death must be her Lot,
And sure destruction to the man you hate.
Org.
O that the wish'd for deed were once effected,
That I might see this Rivall to my Glory,
Fix'd in a Dungeon, or his hated Soul,
Sent to the place, where I cou'd wish it Hell.
Men.
Doubt not my Brother, but that time's at hand,
Look on the Liquor this small Glass Contains,
Infuse three drops of it, i'th wine he drinks,
So many hours his Sences will be shut,
And Lay him in the Leaden hand of sleep,
Which when perform'd, we may with as much ease,
Work our designs on him, as 'tis to think it.
Org.
By Heav'n thy Plot deserves Eternall Fame:
But Brother near as we can guess the hour,
Let it be when the Queen prepares for Supper.
Armena at that time by Instructions,
Shall give Semanthe the same sleeping Draught.
Men.
Haste then my Brother, tell her our design,
Whilst I infect the King with Jealousy,
He comes this way; retire, leave me alone,
And doubt not but we shall have wish'd success:
Org.
Farewell.
And in each path may Fortune be your Guide.
[Ex. Org.
22
King.
How now my Lord? possess'd with serious thoughts:
Men.
I'm thinking Sir, what 'tis to wrong a King,
And in what pain that honest man must live,
That sees him wrong'd, and dares not tell him on't.
King.
I think that man who knows his Prince abus'd,
And yet conceals it from him most disloyall,
For sure it is a Crime unpardonable,
To think a wrong 'gainst an Annoynted head.
Men.
But Sir, when those that do it are in Power,
And a poor shrub is all that can accuse 'em,
He'd hardly gain belief of what h'as seen,
And death must pay the honest fool his wages.
King.
Not if he can shew Proof of what he says.
Men.
My Liege, I beg a moments Privacy.
For I've a wond'rous secret to impart;
King.
Retire a while.
[Ex. Attendants.
Now Menaphon, your bus'ness:
Men.
O Sir, I've such a Story as will scorch,
Your boyling veins into so hot a Feaver,
Will make your heart-strings burst, and set a-float
The burning Lake within 'em.
King.
Ha! be quick:
Men.
If it were possible, I'de keep it in.
But 't has long strugled in my brest for vent.
My Lord I know too sure that you are wrong'd.
King.
Ha!
Men.
Wrong'd in the highest Point, wrong'd in your honour,
Upon my knees I kiss this Prost'rate Earth,
And humbly beg that which my tongue shall speak—
Since it proceeds from nought but Love and duty,
May either be forgiven or forgot.
King.
You have it, rise, discharge an open breast.
Men.
O my dread Leige, my words will raise a Storm,
Able to stagger all your Royal reason:
I wish my Loyall heart could cover sin,
But love and my Allegiance bid me speak,
King.
Speak then, and do not wrack me with delay:
Men.
Women, why were you made for man's affliction?
The first that ever made us tast of grief,
And last of whom in Torments we complain:
23
Our forked shames are made most visible.
No Soul of sense, wou'd wrong bright Majesty:
Nor stain their blood, with such Impurity.
King.
Nay good my Lord, leave off this Mistick speech,
And give me knowledge from a plainer phraise.
Men.
Then Plainly thus my Lord, your bed's abus'd:
O foolish Zeal, that makes me desperate.
Your Queen has sin'd, and done a double wrong
To you, her self, and sacred Chastity.
O she has lost her honour, she that looks,
All health without, within is all Contagion.
King.
How Menaphon! Beware, think where thou'rt going,
Endeavour not to blast Semanthes virtue,
Had'st thou thy sence about thee 'twere impossible
Thy tongue cou'd utter such blasphemous Sounds;
Therefore I pardon thee for what thou'st said,
And think it only the effects of madness:
But if like this you add one Syllable more,
Thou dost Pronounce upon thy self a sentence,
That Earthquake-like will swallow thee.
Men.
Let it open.
Better that I, and thousands more shou'd perish,
Then live to see our Royall Lords Dishonour.
King.
Ha!—
[Offers to draw:
Men.
Do, I lay my bosom bare before you;
Kill me, because I love you and speak truth:
Is this the merit of a Roman faith?
Have I for this then play'd the watchfull Argos,
To sound the very depth of her designs?
I had been mad indeed, a doating fool,
'T'have told you this without I'd had some proof.
But know my Leige, did not your Rage devour you,
And passion too much oversway your reason?
I cou'd relate a tale so full of horrour,
'Twould startle all mankind to here it told:
But since I find you'd rather hug your shame,
Then bravely to Revenge the wrongs you suffer,
Send to the Grave, this forward Zealous fool,
That durst attempt to tell his King the truth.
King.
Had I Just cause, I wou'd pursue such injuries,
Through fire, ayr, water, earth, nay, were they all
Shuffled again to Chaos, but there's none,
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Sha't have thy Just reward—
[Draws
Men.
Yet hold my Lord;
Since I am Enter'd in this desperate cause,
And you think Death to be my due reward,
Let me before the fatall Blow is given.
Beg one short minute not to Plead for life,
But let you know I dye for Loyallty:
King.
Which if thou dost,
Men.
Which if I do not,
May the Immortall Powers at the last day,
Shut all the Shining Gates of Heav'n against me,
And hurl me head-long to the burning Lake.
King.
I know thou'rt Valliant, and with valliant minds,
Slander is worse then theft or Sacrilege.
A step beyond the utmost Plagues of Hell,
And therefore I will hear what thou canst say
[Puts up his sword.
If thou canst shew me any Certain Proof.
(Which by the Gods it is a Sin to think)
That my Semanthe's false, instead of threats,
Thou sha't in ev'ry thing find favour from me:
But if thou dost not, by my Fathers Soul,
Imagine what makes man most miserable,
And that shall fall upon thee.
Men.
Willingly.
I do Embrace this kind Proposall, Sir.
Know then, the man (or rather Stile him Monster,)
That does thus Impiously defile your Bed,
Is Ithocles.
King.
Well Menaphon, go on:
I'le patiently hear every word you utter,
But shall expect strong proofs e're I believe.
Men.
Which if I do not give, my lifes the forfeit.
King.
I've done.
Men.
My Lord, you know early this morning,
You went your self to take a view o'th' Army.
No body left behind, but I, and Ithocles.
For having long before had some suspition,
I did indeed neglect my duty too,
To try if I cou'd gain a farther Proof
Of what before I but suspected only;
And having watch'd the Queen in the Garden,
I plac'd my self unseen behind the Bower,
25
With all the hast, belonging to a Lover,
He flew to the Embraces of the Queen,
And sigh'd, and gaz'd, and kiss'd, and Curs'd his fate,
That he cou'd not Possess that Heav'n alone:
She threw her snowy Armes about his Neck,
Imbrac'd him Close, O Ithocles (says she)
Thou darling of my Soul be ever thus;
Thus wise, thus secret in the scene of love,
And keep it safe from the deluded King.
King.
What shou'd I think? he durst not sure say this,
Were he not very Certain of the truth;
Besides the man was ever Counted honest,
[Aside.
He's young and handsome, Valliant, and discreet,
And I my self have prov'd his Loyalty,
These are not Marks belonging to a Villain.
O thou hast wak'd me, and thy piercing words
[to him.
Have split my sence in sunder, and cou'd I,
Live to behold at once the general end,
And see the World wrap'd in its funeral Flame,
When the Bright Sun shall lend its Beams to burn,
What he before brought forth, and water serve,
Not to Extinguish but to Nurse the Fire,
It wou'd not give me half the Torturing Pangs,
As does the thoughts thou'st raised within my breast.
But yet I must expect an Occular Proof,
For tho' thy words have rais'd a storm within me,
I must have stronger reasons that she's false.
Men.
Why then to shew you Sir how much I love you,
And with what Zeal I've strove to serve my King,
I'le shew these two seeming Saints, (but Devills,)
Even in the Act of sin that needs must damn 'em.
King.
Ha! In the Act! it is impossible:
Men.
It is indeed to Nick the very time;
But I will shew you something Comes so near,
You may with ease imagine what's been done:
But know my Liege when these dark deeds are done,
'Tis when they're very certain of your absence,
Therefore might I be worthy to advise,
Early i'th' morning make some slight pretence,
That may detain you till the following day,
Then if I do not give you certain Proof,
Of the Queens falshood, cut me into Atoms.
26
Is't possible! O this Land-Crocodile,
Made of Egyptian slime! Accursed woman,
Wou'd when I first beheld her tempting face,
My eyes had met with Light'ning, and instead
Of hearing her Inchanting tongue, the shreeks,
Of Mandrakes had made musick to my Slumbers.
Men.
My Lord be Patient, see before you doubt:
King.
I will, nay thou sha't see me wond'rous Patient,
For yet I cannot think Semanthe false,
Tho' words like thine, urg'd with such Confidence,
To any man but me, wou'd turn him mad.
Farewell my Lord, and see you keep your promise,
For if thou dost not, Vengance, Hell, and Horrour,
Shall certainly attend thy Canker'd Soul.
[Ex. King.
Manet Men.
Men.
Rowl on the Chariot Wheels of my dark Plot,
And bear my ends to their desired Marks,
He's gone with black suspition in his heart,
And made his Soul a slave to Jealousy:
Let him go on, on to the Gulph of Ruine,
As sure he shall when I have work'd my Ends:
Now to my Brother, O thou Credulous King,
The Tortur'd Ghosts that dwell i'th' dark Abyss,
Have pleasant Hours to what thou sha't enjoy.
For when the black designs that I have laid,
Are brought to pass, then, then comes all thy pain,
And thou sha't never tast of Peace again.
[Exit.
| The Treacherous Brothers | |