 | The Mayor of Quinborough |  |
5
ACT. 1.
SCENA 1.
Enter Raynulph:Ray.
What Raynulph Monck of Chester can
Raise from his Polycranicon
That raiseth him as works do men
To see long parted light agen,
That best may please this round fair ring
With sparkling Diamonds circled in,
I shall produce: If all my powers
Can win the grace of two poor hours,
Well apaid I go to rest;
Ancient stories have been best,
Fashions that are now call'd new
Have been worn by more then you;
Elder times have us'd the same,
Though these new ones get the name:
So in story what now told
That takes not part with days of old?
Then to approve times mutual glory
Joyn new times love to old times story.
Exit.
Shouts within; Then Enter Vortiger.
Vor.
Will that wide throated Beast, the multitude,
Never leave bellowing? Courtiers are ill
Advised when they first make such Monsters.
How neer was I to a Scepter and a Crown?
6
Were casting glory, till this forked Rabble
With their infectious Acclamations
Poyson'd my Fortunes for Constantines sons.
Well, though I rise not King, I'le seek the means
To grow as neer to one as policy can,
And choak their expectations. Now, good Lords,
Enter Devon. and Stafford:
In whose kind loves and wishes I am built
As high as humane dignity can aspire,
Are yet those Truncks that have no other souls
But noise and ignorance, something more quiet?
Devon.
Nor are they like to be for ought we gather,
Their wills are up still; nothing can appease them,
Good speeches are but cast away upon them.
Vor.
Then, since necessity and fate withstand me,
I'le strive to enter at a straighter passage;
Your sudden aid and counsels, good my Lords.
Staff.
They are ours no longer then they do you service.
Enter Constantius (as a Monck, attended by other Moncks) Vortiger stays him.
Vor.
Vessels of sanctity, be pleas'd a while
To give attention to the general peace,
Wherein Heaven is serv'd too, though not so purely:
Constantius, eldest son of Constantine,
We here seize on thee for the general good,
And in thy right of Birth.
Con.
On me! for what Lords?
Vor.
The Kingdoms Government.
Con.
Oh powers of Blessedness!
Keep me from growing downwards into earth again.
I hope I am further on my way then so; set forwards.
Vor.
You must not.
Con.
How!
Vor.
I know your wisdom
Will light upon a way to pardon us
When you shall read in every Britains brow
7
Con.
What necessity can there be in the world
But prayer and repentance? and that business
I am about now.
Vor.
Hark afar off still,
We lose and hazard much; holy Germanus,
And Reverend Lupus, with all expedition
Set the Crown on him.
Con.
No such mark of Fortune
Comes neer my head.
Vor.
My Lord, we are forc'd to rule you.
Con.
Dare you receive Heavens light in at your Eye-lids
And offer violence to Religion?
Take heed, the very Beam let in to comfort you
May be the fire to burn you; On these knees,
Hardned with zealous Prayers, I entreat you
Bring not my cares into the world again.
Think with how much unwillingness and anguish
A glorified Soul parted from the Body
Would to that loathsome Gaol again return,
With such great pain a well subdued affection
Re-enters wordly business.
Vor.
Good my Lord,
I know you cannot lodge so many Vertues,
But Patience must be one. As low as earth
We beg the freeness of your own consent
Which else must be constrain'd; and time it were
Either agreed or forc'd. Speak good my Lord,
For you bind up more sins in this delay
Then thousand Prayers can absolve again.
Con.
Were't but my death, you should not kneel so long for't.
Vor.
'Twill be the death of Millions if you rise not,
And that betimes too: Lend your help my Lords,
For fear all come too late.
Con.
This is a Cruelty
That peaceful man did never suffer yet
To make me dye again, that once was dead,
And begin all that ended long before.
8
Of Holiness and Religion, can you offer
The thing that is not lawful? stand not I
Clear from all temporal charge by my profession?
Ger.
Not when a time so violent calls upon you,
Who is born a Prince, is born a general peace,
Not his own only; Heaven will look for him
In others actions, and will require him there.
What is in you religious must be shown
In saving many more Souls then your own.
Con.
Did not great Constantine, our Noble Father,
Deem me unfit for Government and Rule,
And therefore prais'd me into this profession?
Which I have held strict, and love it above glory.
Nor is there want of me, your selves can witness
Heaven hath provided largely for your peace,
And bless'd you with the lives of my two Brothers,
Fix your obedience there, leave me a Servant.
All.
Long live Constantius, Son of Constantine,
King of Great Britain.
Con.
I do feel a want
And extream poverty of Joy within;
The peace I had is parted 'mongst rude men,
To keep them quiet I have lost it all.
What can the Kingdom gain by my undoing?
That riches is not best, though it be mighty,
That's purchas'd by the ruine of another;
Nor can the peace so filch'd ever thrive with them:
And if't be worthily held Sacriledge
To rob a Temple, 'tis no less offence
To ravish meditations from the Soul
(The consecrated Altar in a man:)
And all their hopes will be beguil'd in me,
I know no more the way to temporal Rule
Then he that's born and has his years come to him
In a rough desart; well may the weight kill me,
And that's the fairest good I look for from it.
Vor.
Not so, great King, here stoops a faithful servant
9
Then your meek Soul should feel oppression
Of ruder cares; such common coarse employments
Cast upon me your servant, upon Vortiger;
I see you are not made for noise and pains,
Clamours of Suitors, Injuries and Redresses,
Millions of Actions, rising with the Sun,
Like Laws still ending and yet never done,
Of power to turn a great man to the state
Of his marble Monument: with over-watching,
To be oppress'd is not requir'd of you, my Lord,
But only to be King: the broken sleeps
Let me take from you, Sir; the toyls and troubles,
All that is burthenous in Authority
Please you lay it on me, and what is glorious
Receive it to your own brightness.
Con.
Worthy Vortiger,
If 'twere not sin to grieve anothers patience
With what we cannot tolerate our self,
How happy were I in thee and thy love?
There's nothing makes man feel his miseries
But knowledge only; reason, that is plac'd
For mans director is his chief afflictor;
For though I cannot bear the weight my self,
I cannot have that barrenness of remorse
To see another groan under my burthen.
Vor.
I am quite blown up a conscionable way,
There's even a trick of murthering in some pity;
The death of all my hopes I see already:
There was no other likelihood, for Religion
Was never friend of mine yet.
Con.
Holy Partners in strictest abstinence
Cruel necessity hath forc'd me from you,
We part, I fear for ever, but in mind
I will be always here, here let me stay.
Devon.
My Lord you know the times.
Con.
Farewel blest Souls, I fear I shall offend,
He that draws tears from you takes your best frend.
Ex. all but Vor:
10
Can the great motion of Ambition stand
Like wheels false wrought by an unskilful hand?
Then time stand thou too, let no hopes arrive
At their sweet wishfulness, till mine set forwards:
Would I could stay the existence, as I can
Thy glassie counterfeit in hours of sand,
I'ld keep thee turn'd down till my wishes rose,
Then wee'ld both rise together.
What several Inclinations are in nature?
How much is he disquieted, and wears Royalty
Disdainfully upon him, like a Curse,
Calls a fair Crown the weight of his afflictions!
When here's a Soul would sink under the burthen.
Yet well recovered, I will use all means
To vex authority from him, and in all
Study what most may discontent his bloud,
Making my Masque my Zeal to the publick good.
Not possible a richer policy
Can have conception in the thought of man.
Enter two Grasiers.
1 Gra.
An honourable life enclose your Lordship.
Vor.
Now, what are you?
2 Gra.
Grasiers if't like your Lordship.
Vor.
So it should seem by your Enclosures;
What's your affair with me?
1 Gra.
We are your Petitioners,
My Lord.
Vor.
For what? depart, Petitioners to me!
You have well deserved my grace and favour, have you not a Ruler
After your own Election? hye you to Court,
Get neer and close, be loud and bold enough,
You cannot chuse but speed.
Exit.
2 Gra.
If that will doe't
We have throats wide enough, wee'l put them to't.
Exeunt.
Dumb show.
Fortune discovered, in her hand a round Ball full of Lots; then enters Hengist and Horsus, with others; they draw Lots, and having opened them, all depart, save Hengist and Horsus, who kneel
11
Enter Raynulph.
Ray.
When Germany was over-grown
With Sons of peace too thickly sown,
Several guides were chosen then
By destin'd Lots to lead out men,
And they whom Fortune here withstands
Must prove their Fates in other Lands.
On these two Captains fell the Lot;
But that which must not be forgot,
Was Roxena's cunning grief,
Who from her Father like a thief,
Hid her best and truest tears
Which her lustful Lover wears,
In many a stoln and wary kiss
Unseen of Father: Maids do this
Yet highly scorn to be call'd Strumpets too,
But what they lack of't I'le be judg'd by you.
Exit.
Enter Vortiger, Feltmonger, Button-maker, Grasier, Petitioners.
Vor.
This way his Majesty comes.
All.
Thank your good Lordship:
Vor.
When you hear yon door open.
All.
Very good my Lord.
Vor.
Be ready with your several suits, put forward.
Gras.
That's a thing every man does naturally, Sir,
That is a Suitor, and doth mean to speed.
Vor.
'Tis well you are so deep learn'd, take no denials.
All.
No my good Lord.
Vor.
Not any, if you love
The prosperity of your Suits; you marre all utterly
And overthrow your fruitful hopes for ever,
12
Fasten upon your bashfulness.
All.
Say you so, my Lord?
We can be troublesome if we list.
Vor.
I know it,
I felt it but too late in the general summe
Of your ranck Brother-hood, which now I thank you for.
While this vexation is in play, I'le study
For a second, then a third to that, one still
To vex another, that he shall be glad
To yield up power, if not, it shall be had.
Exit.
But.
Hark, I protest my heart was coming upwards,
I thought the door had opened.
Gras.
Marry would it had Sir.
But.
I have such a treacherous heart of my own, 'twill throbb
At the very fall of a Farthingale.
Gras.
Not if it fall on the rushes.
But.
Yes truly if there be no light in the room I shall throbb presently:
The first time it took me my wife was in the company,
I remember the room was not half so light as this,
But I'le be sworn I was a whole hour in finding her.
Gras.
Berlady y'had a long time of throbbing of it then.
But.
Still I felt men, but I cou'd feel no women,
I thought they had been all sunk, I have made a Vow for't,
I'le never have meeting while I live by Candle-light again.
Gras.
Yes, Sir, in Lanthorns.
But.
Yes, Sir, in Lanthorns.
But I'le never trust candle naked again.
Gras.
Hark, hark, stand close, it opens now indeed.
Enter Constantius and two Gentlemen.
But.
Oh Majesty, what art thou! I'ld give any man
Half my Suit to deliver my petition; It is in the behalf
Of Button-makers, and so it seems by my flesh.
Con.
Pray do not follow me, unless you do it
To wonder at my garments, there's no cause
I give you why you should, 'tis shame enough
Methinks to look upon my self;
It grieves me that more should, the other weeds
Became me better, but the Lords are pleas'd
13
I pray be satisfied, I call'd you not.
Wonder of madness, can you stand so idle
And know that you must dye!
1 Gent.
We are all commanded, Sir,
Besides it is our duties to your grace
To give attendance.
Con.
What a wild thing is this?
No marvel though you tremble at deaths name
When you'l not see the cause why you are fools:
For Charities sake desist here I pray you,
Make not my presence guilty of your sloth,
Withdraw, young men, and find you honest business.
2 Gent.
What hopes have we to rise by following him?
I'le give him over shortly.
1 Gent.
He's too nice,
Too holy for young Gentlemen to follow
That have good faces, and sweet running fortunes.
Con.
Eight hours a day in serious contemplation
Is but a bare allowance, no higher food
To the Soul then bread and water to the body,
And that's but needful, then more would do better.
But.
Let us all kneel together, 'twill move pity,
I have been at the begging of a hundred Suits.
Con.
How happy am I in the sight of you?
Here are religious souls that lose not time,
With what devotion do they point at Heaven,
And seem to check me, that am too remiss!
I bring my zeal among you, holy men,
If I see any kneel, and I sit out,
That hour is not well spent; methinks, strict souls,
You have been of some Order in your times?
Gras.
Grasiers and Braziers some, and this a Felt-maker.
But.
Here's his Petition and mine, if it like your Grace.
Gras.
Look upon mine, I am the longest Suitor,
I was undone seven years ago.
Con.
You have mockt my good hopes, call you these Petitions?
Why there's no form of Prayer among them all.
14
Yes in the bottom there's half a line prays for your Majesty,
If you look on mine.
Con.
Make your requests to Heaven, not to me.
But.
'Las mine's a supplication for brass buttons, Sir.
Felt.
There's a great enormity in wool,
I beseech your Grace consider it.
Gra.
Pastures rise 2d an acre, what will this world come to?
But.
I do beseech your Grace.
Gra.
Good your Grace.
Con.
Oh this is one of my afflictions
That with the Crown enclos'd me, I must bear it.
Gra.
Your Graces answer to my supplication.
But.
Mine my Lord.
Con.
No violent storm lasts ever, that's the comfort of it.
Felt.
Your Highness answer.
Gra.
We are almost all undone, the Country begger'd.
But.
See, see, he points at Heaven, as who should say
There's enough there; but 'tis a great way thither,
There's no good to be done, I see that already,
We may all spend our mouths like a company of Hounds
In chase of a Royal Deer, and then go home
And fall to cold mutton bones, when we have done.
Gra.
My wife will hang me, that's my currish destiny.
Exeunt.
Con.
Thanks Heaven, 'tis over now, we should never know rightly
The sweetness of a calm, but for a storm.
Here's a wish'd hour for contemplation now,
All's still and silent, here is a true Kingdom.
Enter Vortiger.
Vor.
My Lord.
Con.
Again?
Vor.
Alas this is but early
And gentle to the troups of businesses
That flock about Authority: You must forthwith
Settle your mind to marry.
Con.
How, to marry?
Vor.
And suddenly, there's no pause to be given,
The peoples wills are violent, and covetous
Of a succession from your Loyns:
Con.
From me there can come none, a profess'd abstinence
15
And alter'd all the Course; the heat I have
Is all enclos'd within a zeal to vertue,
And that's not fit for earthly propagation;
Alas, I shall but forfeit all their hopes,
I'me a man made without desires, tell them.
Vor.
I prov'd them with such words, but all were fruitless,
A Virgin of the highest Subjects bloud
They have pickt out for your embrace, and send her
Blest with their general wishes into fruitfulness.
Enter Castiza.
Lo, where she comes, my Lord.
Con.
I never felt
Th'unhappy hand of misery till this touch;
A patience I could find for all but this.
Cast.
My Lord, your vow'd love ventures me but dangerously.
Vor.
'Tis but to strengthen a vexation politique.
Cast.
That's an uncharitable practice, trust me Sir.
Vor.
No more of that.
Cast.
But say he should affect me, Sir,
How should I scape him then? I have but one faith, my Lord,
And that you have already, our late contract is a divine witness to't.
Vor.
I am not void of shifting rooms and helps
For all projects that I commit with you.
Exit.
Cast.
This is an ungodly way to come to honour,
I do not like it, I love Lord Vortiger,
But not these practices, th'are too uncharitable.
Con.
Are you a Virgin?
Cast.
Never yet, my Lord,
Known to the will of man.
Con.
Oh blessed Creature!
And does too much felicity make you surfeit?
Are you in soul assur'd there is a state
Prepar'd for you, for you, a glorious one,
In midst of Heaven, now in the state you stand in;
And had you rather, after much known misery,
Cares and hard labours, mingled with a curse,
Throng but to the door, and hardly get a place there?
Think, hath the world a folly like this madness?
16
You chast lump of eternity, 'tis a treasure
Too precious for deaths moment to partake,
This twinckling of short life; disdain as much
To let mortality know you, as stars to kiss the pavements, y'have a substance
As excellent as theirs, holding your pureness,
They look upon corruption, as you do,
But are stars still, be you a Virgin too.
Cast.
I'le never marry, what though my truth be engag'd
To Vortiger? forsaking all the world
I save it well, and do my faith no wrong.
Y'have mightily prevail'd, great vertuous Sir,
I am bound eternally to praise your goodness,
My thoughts hence forth shall be as pure from man
As ever made a Virgins name immortal.
Con.
I will do that for joy I never did
As he kisses her, Enter Vortiger and Gentlemen.
Nor ever will again.
Gent.
My Lord, he's taken.
Vor.
I am sorry for't, I like not that so well,
Th'are something too familiar for their time methinks,
This way of kissing is no way to vex him;
Why I, that have a weaker faith and patience,
Could endure more then that, coming from a woman.
Dispatch, and bring his answer speedily.
Exit.
Gent.
My Lord, my gracious Lord.
Con.
Beshrew thy heart.
Gent.
They all attend your Grace.
Con.
I would not have them,
'Twould please me better if they'ld all depart
And leave me to my self, or put me out
And take it to themselves.
Gent.
The Noon is past,
Meat's on the table:
Con.
Meat! away, get from me,
Thy memory is diseas'd, what Saints Eeve's this?
Gent.
Saint Agatha's I take it.
Con.
Is it so?
I am not worthy to be serv'd before her,
17
Gent.
He'll starve the Guard
If this be suffer'd; If we set Court bellies
By a Monastery Clock, he that breaks a fellows pate now
Will not be able to crack a louse within this twelve months.
Exit.
Con.
'Tis sure forgetfulness and not mans will
That leads him forth into licentious ways;
He cannot certainly commit such errours,
And think upon them truly as they are acting.
Why's abstinence ordain'd, but for such seasons?
Enter Vortiger.
Vor.
My Lord, y'have pleas'd to put us to much pains,
But we confess 'tis portion of our duty:
Will your Grace please to walk? dinner stays for you.
Con.
I have answer'd that already.
Vor.
But, my Lord,
We must not so yield to you, pardon me,
'Tis for the general good, you must be rul'd, Sir,
Your health and life is dearer to us now,
Think where you are, at Court, this is no Monastery.
Con.
But Sir, my Conscience keeps still where it was,
I may not eat this day.
Vor.
We have sworn you shall,
And plentifully too, we must preserve you, Sir,
Though you be wilful; 'tis no slight condition
To be a King.
Con.
Would I were less then man.
Vor.
Will you make the people rise, my Lord,
In great despair of your continuance,
If you neglect the means that must sustain you.
Con.
I never eat on Eeves.
Vor.
But now you must,
It concerns others healths that you take food,
I have chang'd your life, you well may change your mood.
Con.
This is beyond all cruelty.
Vor.
'Tis our care my Lord.
Exeunt:
| The Mayor of Quinborough | |