University of Virginia Library

Scena 7.

Enter Uenusius, Duke of Yorke, with other attendants, and his wife Cartamanda.
Uenu.
I long haue mist those honourable warres,
Which warlike Rome against the Bryttaines hold:
But since we heare, and that by true report,
And credible intelligence from many,
Who lately haue returned from the Campe,
That Wales and Rome begin fresh bleeding war,
I doe intend with speed to see the Army,
And pay my loue, as tribute vnto Rome.
But yet I grieue, that such intestine iarre
Is falne betwixt such an heroike Prince,
As is the King of Wales, and powerfull Rome.
The Romanes doe in multitudes exceede.
He, well instructed in true fortitude,
A Graduate in Martiall discipline,
And needs no Tutour: for in pupill age
He was brought vp in honours rudiments,
And learnde the elements of warlike Arts.
Then much I muse, why Cesar should beginne,
That scarce hath ended with the Bryttish warres;
Or who's the Author of these firebrands
Dissention thus hath kindled.

Cart.
It may be, noble husbaud, the desire
Of Principality and Kingly rule,
As yet is boundlesse and vncircumscribde:
But if our reasons eye could see our selues,
That's neerest to vs, and not like prospectiues,
Behold afarre off, great men were themselues:
Or, if like Philip King of Macedon,
Whose boundlesse minde of soueraigne Maiesty
Was like a Globe, whose body circular
Admits no end, seeing by chance, the length
Of the impression, which his body made
Vpon the sands, and onely by a fall,
Wondred, that such a little space contayn'd
The body, when the minde was infinite,
And in this Morall plainely did foresee
The longitude of mans mortality.
But soft, what Souldiour's this?

Enter Caradoc disguised.
Cara.
And't please you, Madam, from the King of Wales,
I bring this letter to Uenusius,
Your Royall husband.

Uenu.
Come, souldiour, prithee let me see:
I long to heare from noble Caradoc.

He reades it.
Carta.
Say, souldiour, camest thou from Wales?
What newes betwixt the Welshmen and the Romanes?

Cara.
Madam, a glorious victory to Rome,
The Towne of Gloster vildely being betray'd
By Cornewals complots and conspiracies,
Euen in the dead of night: and to augment
His Treasons to the height of his desert,
Euen in the absence of his Lord and King,
Whilest Caradoc, at his returne, in rage,
Though single, and inuiron'd round with foes,
Fought like a Lybian Lion: But to conclude,
Not Hercules against a multitude.
And thus at ods was forst to flee the place.

Uenu.
Souldiour, come hither, where is Caradoc?

Cara.
In Wales, my Lord, and stayes for your reply.

Uenu.
Souldiour, I wish, if wishes could preuayle,
Thy princely Master were with vs awhile,
Till all these cloudes of blacke contention
Were eyther ouerblowne, or else dissolued.
Fame hath not left a man, more fit for talke
Or disputation in bright honours scholes,
Then is thy noble Master. When I behold
His noble portrayture but in conceit,
Me thinks, I see the reall thing it selfe
Of perfite Honour and Nobility,
And not fantastically apprehend
Onely the ayry fictions of the brayne.
I now repent, that thus long I haue spent
My honour and my time, in ayding Rome,
And thus far haue digrest from Natures lawes,
To ayde a forrayne Nation 'gainst mine owne.
Were but thy Master here, he soone should see,
He hath his wish, and Wales her liberty.

Caradoc puts off his disguise.
Cara.
Then know, kind Prince, that thus I haue presum'd,
To put thy honoured loue vnto the test,
In this disguise, and with auricular boldnesse
Haue heard your tale of profest amity.
And noble friend, then here stands Caradoc,
Who now is come petitioner to thy ayde,
Betrayde vnto the Romanes by a villayne.
And whilest by dint of sword I fearelesse past,
Thorow the Legions of the puissant hoste.
My Queene and daughter they haue prisoners tane,
Whose memory quickens my dangers past,
And adds new fuell to my bleeding soule.
Then, if thou beest not verball, but thy tongue
Is with a single string strung to thy heart,
All Wales shall honour thee and thy desert.

Venu.
Braue Prince, as welcome to Venusius,
As sleepe to wearied Nature. But now the time
Fits not for friuolous complements. Awhile
Repose your selfe with me, where you shall be
As secret, as men would keepe their sinnes
From the worlds eye, whilest in the meane time, I
Prepare my forces. Wife, view this noble Prince:
This is that man, that, in despite of Rome,
This nine yeares space hath brauely waged warre,
And now by Treason's forst vnto his friends.
Then, wife, as thou doest tender our regard,
Respect this Prince, and keepe him priuately,
Vntill I doe returne. Farewell, noble Prince.

Exit.
Carta.
Welcome, great Prince. Here thinke your selfe secure,
As in a Sanctuary, from your foes.
My husband oftentimes hath worne out time,
Discoursing of your worths superlatiue:
And I am proud of such a worthy ghest.

Cara.
Lady, I shall be troublesome: but ere long,
I hope once more to meet this trayterous host,
And seale my wrongs with ruine of my foes.
Fame wrongs the Romanes with these noble stiles
Of honour, and vnseconded deserts.
These attributes are onely fitte for men,
That God-like should be qualified with hate
Of such infectious sinnes as Treasons are.
Weake-pated Romanes! what fidelity
Can be in Traytors, who are so vniust,
That their own Country is deceiued in trust?
Come, Madam, will you shew the way?

Exeunt.