University of Virginia Library

Scœn. 3.

Mantesio, Menander, Evphorbvs, Laelio, Perillvs.
Whither, ô whither, and to what extreames
Doe the most waking Gods driue guilty men?

Man.
Who liues to know, obtaines a blessed age,
But hee a curse, who knowledge doth abuse;
Subtle temptation must not make men erre
With iudgement, though approvall may conferre
Kingdomes of wealth, which is impossible
(So gotten) to continue, if well paid.
O since I knew the folly to aduise
And nourish vp the rude infirmities
Of each voluptuous Epicure in state
Striuing to take dependance from the smile
Of an imperious fauorite, weake shame
Neuer till now oppress'd mee; and I sweare
Did not the sword of iustice now strike home
I would in-counter shame with fortitude,
But a discarded woe (the common plague
Of seruile age eeu'n dead with misery)
Hath after long for-bearance seiz'd on mee:
Pheudippes death was fatall to my life
Because neglected by his liuing wife.

Me.
Haue I then caught thy vn-appeased soule?
Tell mee, come tell mee, wicked wretch declare,
Why hast thou broken holy friend-ships vow?
Speake (damned vermin) each true accent tell
For wee'le vn-rip thy bosome spight of hell;
Speake thou contemptuous varlet, doe not striue
And shake thy limbs with vn-expressed feare,
For (trembling slaue) my hand shall catch thy haire,
Hold thee perforce, with chaines of adamant,
Till thy audacious shadow quaking seeth,
If hands be weary I can hold by teeth.

Man.
But ô Iudicious—

Me.
Villaine I abhorre
The hatefull sound of thy be-witching voyce,
Keepe in thy clamorous eccho (coniurer)
And cease with Magicke to enchant our sence
Or I will sindge thy beard off with my breath:
O you damn'd fawning Rascall, canst thou shake
And tremble after all thy infamy?
Thou thanklesse, rotten-hearted-slaue, thou snake
Did I deserue suppression? tell mee (Foxe)
You temporising Courtier, that's enough,
Hee needs not call thee knaue, nor Sycophant,
And ir-religious Iew, that cals thee so,
For thou didst study these; thinking to proue
A learned Polititian, that's a diuell,
A most abortiue monster, strangely made
With long huge hornes a crafty Foxes head
A Lyons posture and extended eares
With eighty soules and hearts, like little egs;
But with a Camels backe, and Tygers legs;
Wanting a breast-bone, like the sauage Beare;
So climbe hee doth and curry vp the rockes,
Mounting the tops of straight Pyramides
But when hee tumbles, like a smitten Tower,
Declining softly to an omenous dearth,
First will his head salute the shaking earth.
The blacke remembrance of thy fatall end
Makes my assertion true, thee a false-friend:

Ma.
O pacifye great King.—

Me.
—Your yawning voice
With a full concord of my furious palme
If you produce another syllable
You most notorious caitife, you mad curre,
Thou Polititians dog, did I aduance
Thy ragged fortunes to degrade my selfe,
Make thee a partner of my Kingdomes ioy
Giue thee my Kingdomes pleasure, wealth, and wiues,
When I (made foolish) to make thee as King
Tooke the bare title and a glorious heape
Of golden sorrow requisite for Kings,
Keeping the best (by priuiledge) for thee
Without a second riuall? thus I did,
Nay, did I thus and yet thou proue vnkind?
I call my faith in question to demand
Such need-lesse truth, for thou didst proue vnkind,
Contriuing the subuersion of my rule
Which gaue a perfect essence to thy soule,
Submit, submit for shame, and say forgiue:
Say but forgiue and I am gratious.

Man.
I am not (sacred King) as you suppuse
The tortur'd Ghost of that in-glorious man
Pheudippe, sunke below the verge of hell.
But old Mantesio is my seruile name,
Once did I serue whom you so much did loue,
The murdered honour of that haughty Duke.

Men.
Thou Spirit of delusion, ô affirme
This doubtfull figments; once againe deny
A soule of reason to thy Soueraigne.

Man.
My flesh doth witnesse for mee I doe liue.

Men.
Am I then mad Mantesio? agree
Your are no Ghost and make the consequence.

Evph.
But brother, who's mad now? not Messala.

Me.
Deride vs then, and be ridiculous.
Tell mee Mantesio, why didst talke of curse,
Discarded woe, and vexing misery?

Man.
Of all I tasted in extremity.

Me.
Liues there that soule vpon the spacious globe,
Which doth vprightly thinke it can deserue
Extremity of sorrow, heapes of woe
As did Pheudippe? it's impossible:
No (good old man) though thy large multitude
Of capitall offences do exceed,
The wandring starres, I may account thee cleane,
Like a religious innocent, or babe,
As a bright Angell, to Pheudippe's shame.

Man.
Yet am I poore, and will partake in woe:

Me.
Canst be distracted? melancholicke? mad?
Sweare by the beauty of the burning Zone?
Looke like a dead-mans scull, most scirvily?
Laugh, weepe, raile, sweare, and hang thy selfe at once?
Rend off thy pleated haire, be lunaticke?
Liue naked in a tempting wildernesse?
Call mee Don Aiax? liue by roots and hearbes?
Be a true male-content? be ever sad?
Cloudy, like Christmas? be dis-consolate?
And (aboue all) renounce society?
If thus thou canst obserue a dogged change,
If gloomy sorrow (made excessiue strange)
Stab thy distracted senses to the life,
Wee may dispatch all sence without a knife.
But who comes heere?

Lae.
A Poet (pretious sir)

Me.
Thy name?

Pe.
Perillus.

Me.
O aduance thy tune,
Provoke thy sharpe Melpomene to sing
The story of a begger and the King.
Canst command Poems vn-præmedite?

Per.
I haue a little smacke of poesie,
Can smell the amber-breath that rapture brings,
Vpon receit of which my consort sings.

Me.
But I haue bedded the faire Muses nine,
Slept in the bosome of Melpomene,
Haue rid vpon the wings of Pegasus,
Drunke downe a floud of sparkling Hyppacren,
Keepe a perpetuall moisture in my head,
Hating such dilatory sloth of men,
From whose weake braines the rotten papers shed,
Like leaues in autumne; I account him quicke
Who is by nature so; with small intent
Such (as my selfe) may be proficient:
I could now turne conceited stagerite,
And represent I will, with feeling straines,
The Ghost of Crassus, or cracke all my vaines:
Suppose me then the Ghost of that old man,
That sorry man, my ribs trans-fix'd with steele,
Or with a tempest of the Scythian darts,
My wounded carkasse blacke with bloody gore,
Long steep'd in frosty stuper, to arise,
With squallid rayment from the waues of hell,
And vnto Pompei apparitions tell:
Will you great Pompei, patron of my cause,
Who didst by solemne oath, vowfull revenge?
Will you, the comfort of my funerals,
Tombe to my ashes, and my naked bones?
Will you, will Pompei proue delinquent? hee,
Who hath in loue to Crassus, threatned stabs,
Death and destruction till deepe wounds increase,
Can hee loue Crassus foe, and seeke for peace?
Bleed then my gaping and forgotten wounds
Bleed eu'n afresh, or let my frozen blood,
Like a congealed sirrop, now dissolue,
After such cloudy seasons of the yeare,
Such heauy sorrow, and such doubtfull feare:
After so many dismall nights and dayes,
So many tempests of the Stygian Barke,
And prophesie, things fatall, true, but darke:
Calamity made famous by extreames
Erected in a marble monument,
Shall by her often meeting vexe thy minde,
Else by opposed number make thee blinde:
Horror and ruine (Pompei) shall affront
Thy shamelesse fortunes, thy fowle negligence,
Cities at thy sub-uersion shall reioyce
The sculs and trophies of thy captaines losse
The victor shall vpon his raueling tosse;
Where swift Euphrates, sent such worthy names
To blacke oblivion, and the tumbling waues
Of big-swolne Tygris, cast my carkasse dead
Vpon the margent of that muddy shore,
And gaue to earth what Neptune could not keepe,
Hauing once cast my wounded limbes asleepe:
There shall thy woe approach, and Pompei know
If quicke avoidance bee not difficult,
Thou then more easely mightst attone the strife
Which thy proud factious Nephew hath begun,
Raging amid the heart of Thessaly.
Thinke but a while vpon the Roman orbe,
Thinke of thy friends at home, thinke who they are,
And those few friends with watchfull foes compare:
Thinke yet of Ægypt, her seuen-headed gulfe,
Ioyne with Ægyptian Ptolomei, and thriue,
His high tuition appertaines to thee,
Tender his nonage, aime at Ægypts throne,
Whose King hath but the shadow of a name,
Because a childish infant, lacking fame,
And feare, (the substance of a Diademe)
Nor thinke the old allegeance to their kings,
Can so estrange the peoples loue to thee,
But know the state of kingdomes be most milde,
If, or, the King is new, or is a childe:
Both do concurre to crowne thy happinesse,
Set saile for Ægypt, make thy couenant there,
Oppose the Parthi, and depopulate
The fields, where Crassus did enioy his fate:
Say, from the cinders of a slaughered man,
You tooke aduice to turne Ægyptian.

Pe.
Most liuely acted, and like Roscius.

Lae.
Hee doth pronounce with volubility.

Man.
For a pure copious linguist hee doth well,
But for ingenious action doth excell.

Evp.
The King for a Comædian I'faith;
But I will striue to act aboue thee (King)
And out of brim-stone rockes may vertue split,
I am a cold, and must go digge for wit.

Me.
Goe digge for wit whilst I am Ioviall,
And laugh and leape among my flatterers,
Come daunce Lavoltoes my familiar knaues,
Do you commend this mirth?

Om.
Most happily.

Per.
Mirth may expell distraction, if secûre.

Me.
But ô my friend, I am not as I seeme,
Merry indeed, but onely seeming so;
Vn-rip my bosome, and with lines of blood
Deeply ingrau'd vpon my trembling heart,
You may discerne attractiue Epitaphs,
The shamefull curse of a contemptuous King,
A loue-knot double broken; and by whom
Friendship rewarded with extreame abuse;
False-hood, without a colour, and excuse.

Pe.
What flinty flesh could now abstaine from teares?

Me.
Do then thy stranger thoughts compassionate,
And weepe at our in-humane destiny.
If thy relenting heart true passion feele,
Then let thy moist'ned loue some drops distill;
Weepe on (my friend) I cannot I controule
The copious fountaine; for a silent teare
Doth apprehend the quicke; but neuer howle:
Forsake mee now, and leaue me desolate,
I would revolue the lessons of my state.