 | The Virgin Martir |  |
Actus 5.
Scena 1.
Enter Theophilus in his study, Bookes about him.The.
Is't Holliday (Oh Cæsar) that thy seruant,
(Thy Prouest, to see execution done
On these base Christians in Cesarea)
Should now want worke: sleepe these Idolaters
That none are stirring, At a curious Painter
Rises.
When he has made some admirable peece,
Stands off, and with a searching eye examines
Each colours how tis sweetned, and then hugs
Himselfe for his rare workemanship.—So heere
Sitt.
Will I my Drolleries and bloudy Lantskips
Long past wrap'd vnfold to make me merry
With shadowes, now I want the substances.
Booke.
My Muster-booke of Hel-hounds, were the Christians
Whose names stand heere (aliue) and arm'd; not Rome
Could mooue vpon her Hindges. What I haue done,
Or shall heereafter, is not out of hate
To poore tormented wretches, no I am carried
I owe our Romane gods. Great Britaine, what.
A thousand wiues with brats sucking their brests,
Had hot Irons pinch 'em off and throwne to swine;
And then their fleshy backparts hewed with hatchets,
Were minc'd and bak'd in Pies to feede staru'd Christians. Ha, ha.
Agen, agen,—East. Anglas—, oh, East-Angles,
Bandogs (kept three dayes hungry) worried
1000. Brittish Rascals, styed vp, fat
Of purpose, strip'd naked, and disarm'd.
I could outstare a yeere of Sunnes and Moones,
To sit at these sweete Bul-baitings, so I could
Thereby but one Christian win to fall
In adoration to my Iupiter. Twelue hundred
Eyes boar'd with Augurs out: oh! eleuen thousand
Torne by wild beasts: two hundred ram'd i'th earth
To'th armepits, and full Platters round about 'em,
But farre enough for reaching, eate dogs, ha, ha, ha.
Rise Consort, enter Angelo with a Basket fild with fruit and flowers.
Tush, all these tortures are but phillipings,
Flea-bitings; I before the destinies
My bottome did winde vp, would flesh my selfe
Once more, vpon some one remarkeable
Aboue all these, this Christian Slut was well,
A pretty one, but let such horror follow
The next I feede with torments, that when Rome
Shall heare it, her foundation at the sound
May feele an Earth-quake. How now?
Musicke.
Ang.
Are you amaz'd Sir—so great a Roman spirit and
does it tremble.
The.
How cam'st thou in? to whom thy businesse?
Ang.
To you:
I had a mistresse late sent hence by you
Vpon a bloudy errand, you intreated
That when she came into that blessed Garden
Whither she knew she went, and where (now happy)
Shee feedes vpon all ioy, she would send to you
Some of that Garden fruit and flowers, which heere
The.
Cannot I see this Garden?
Ang.
Yes, if the Master
Will giue you entrance.
Angelo vanisheth.
The.
Tis a tempting fruit, and the most bright cheek'd child I euer view'd,
Sweete smelling goodly fruit, what flowers are these?
In Dioclesians Gardens, the most beautious
Compard with these are weedes: is it not February?
The second day she dyed: Frost, Ice and snowe
Hang on the beard of Winter, wheres the sunne
That guilds this summer, pretty sweete boy, say in what Country
Shall a man find this Garden—, my delicate boy, gone! Vanished!
Within there, Iulianus and Gota.—
Enter two seruants.
Both.
My Lord.
The.
Are my gates shut?
1.
And guarded.
The.
Saw you not—a boy.
2.
Where?
The.
Heere hee entred, a young Lad; 1000, blessings
danc'd vpon his eyes, a smooth fac'd glorious Thing, that
brought this Basket.
1.
No sir?
exeunt.
The.
Away, but be in reach if my voyce calls you,
No! vanish'd! and not seene, be thou a spirit
Sent from that Witch to mock me, I am sure
This is essentiall, and how ere it growes,
Will taste it.
Enter.
Har.
Ha, ha, ha, ha.
Harpax within.
The.
So good, ile haue some now sure.
Har.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, great lickorish foole.
The.
What art thou?
Har.
A Fisherman,
The.
What doest thou catch;
Har.
Soules, soules, a fish cal'd soules.
The.
Geta.
1.
My Lord.
Har.
Ha, ha, ha, ha,
Within.
The.
What insolent slaue is this dares laugh at me?
Or what ist the dog grinnes at so?
1.
I neither know my Lord at what, nor whom, for
there is none without but my fellow Iulianus, and hee's
making a Garland for Iupiter.
The.
Iupiter! all within me is not well,
And yet not sicke.
Har.
Ha, ha, ha, ha.
lowder.
The.
What's thy name slaue?
Har.
Goe looke.
At one end.
1.
Tis Harpax voyce.
The.
Harpax, goe drag the Caitiffe to my foote,
That I may stampe vpon him.
Har.
Foole, thou liest.
At tother end.
1.
Hee's yonder now my Lord.
The.
Watch thou that end
Whilst I make good this.
Har.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.
At the middle.
The.
Hee's at Barli-breake, and the last coulple are now in hell,
exit seruant.
Search for him, all this ground me thinke is bloudy,
And pau'd with thousands of those Christians eyes
Whom I haue tortu'd, and they share vpon me;
What was this apparition? sure it had
A shape Angelicall, mine eyes (though dazled
And danted at first sight) tell me, it wore
A paire of glorious wings, yea they were wings,
And hence he flew; tis vanished, Iupiter
For all my sacrifices done to him
Neuer once gaue me smile: how can stone smile,
musicke.
Or woodden Image laugh? ha! I remember
Such Musicke gaue a welcome to my eare,
When the faire youth came to me: tis in the Ayre,
Or from some better place, a power diuine,
And makes me see a conscience all stai'nd ore,
Nay drown'd and damn'd for euer in Christian gore.
Har.
Ha, ha, ha.
Within.
The.
Agen, what dainty rellish on my tongue
This fruit hath left, some Angell hath me fed,
If so toothfull, I will be banqueted.
eates another.
Har.
Hold.
Enter Harpax in a fearefull shape, fire flashing out of the study.
The.
Not for Cæsar.
Har.
But for me thou shalt.
The.
Thou art no Twin to him that
Last was heere.
You powers whom my soule bids me reuerence
Guard me: What art thou?
Har.
I'me thy Master.
The.
Mine.
Har.
And thou my euerlasting slaue; that Harpax,
Who hand in hand hath led thee to thy Hell
Am I.
The.
Auant.
Har.
I will not, cast thou downe
That Basket with the things in't, and fetch vp
What thou hast swallowed, and then take a drinke
Which I shall giue thee, and i'me gon.
The.
My Fruit!
Does this offend thee? see
Har.
Spet it to'th earth,
And tread vpon it, or ile peece-meale teare thee.
The.
Art thou with this affrighted? see, heares more.
Flowers.
Har.
Fling them away, ile take thee else & hang thee
In a contorted Chaine of I sicles
I'th frigid Zone: downe with them.
The.
At the botome,
One thing I found not yet, see.
A crosse of Flowers.
Har.
Oh, I'me tortur'd.
The.
Can this doo't? hence thou Fiend infernall hence.
Har.
Claspe Iupiters Image, and away with that.
The.
At thee ile fling that Iupiter, for me thinkes
For murthering my two daughters, put on by thee;
By thy damn'd Rhetoricke did I hunt the life
Of Dorothea, the holy Virgin Martyr,
She is not angry with the Axe nor me,
But sends these presents to me, and ile trauell
Ore worlds to finde her, and from her white hand
To beg a forgiuenesse.
Har.
No, ile bind thee heere.
The.
I serue a strength aboue thine: this small weapon me thinkes is Armour hard enough.
Har.
Keepe from me.
Sinkes alittle.
The.
Art poasting to thy center? down hel-hound, down,
Me hast thou lost; that arme which hurles thee hence
Saue me, and set me vp the strong defence
In the faire Christians quarrel.
Enter Angelo.
Ang.
Fixt thy foote there,
Nor be thou shaken with a Cæsars voyce,
Though thousand deaths were in it: and I then
Will bring thee to a Riues that shall wash
Thy bloudy hands cleane, and more white then Snow,
And to that Garden where these blest things grow,
And to that marty'd Virgin, who hath sent
That heauenly token to thee; Spred this braue wing
And serue then Cæsar, a farre greater King.
exit.
The.
It is, it is some Angell, vanish'd againe!
Oh come back rauishing Boy, bright Messenger,
Thou hast (by these mine eyes fixt on thy beauty)
Illumined all my soule, now looke I backe
On my blacke Tyranies, which as they did.
Out-dare the bloudiest, thou blest spirit that leades me,
Teach me what I must do, and to doe well,
That my last act, the best may Paralell.
exit.
Enter Dioclesian, Maximinus, Epire, Pontus, Macedon, meeting Artemia, attendants.
Art.
Glory and Conquest still attend vpon
Dio.
Let thy wish faire Daughter
Be equally deuided, and hereafter
Learne thou to know and reuerence Maximinus,
Whose power with mine vnited makes one Cæsar.
Max.
But that I feare 'twould be held flattery,
The bonds consider'd in which we stand tide
As loue, and Empire, I should say till now
I nere had seene a Lady I thought worthy
To be my Mistresse.
Art.
Sir, you shew your selfe
Both Courtier and Souldier, but take heede,
Take heede my Lord, though my dull pointed beauty
Stain'd by a harsh refusall in my seruant
Cannot dart forth such beames as may inflame you,
You may encounter such a powerfull one,
That with a pleasing heate will thaw your heart
Though bound in ribs of Ice, loue still is loue,
His Bow and Arrowes are the same, great Iulius
That to his successors left the name of Cæsar
Whom warre could neuer tame, that with dry eyes
Beheld the large plaines of Pharsalia, couer'd
With the dead Karkasses of Senators
And Citizens of Rome, when the world knew
No other Lord but him, strucke deepe in yeeres to,
And men gray haird forget the lusts of youth:
After all this, meeting faire Cleopatra,
A suppliant to the magicke of her eye,
Euen in his pride of conquest tooke him captiue,
Nor are you more secure.
Max.
Were you deform'd
(But by the gods you are most excellent)
Your grauity and discretion would o'recome me,
And I should be more proud in being a Prisoner
To your faire vertues, then of all the Honours,
VVealth, Title, Empire, that my sword hath purchac'd
Dio.
This meetes my wishes, welcome it Artemia
VVith out-stretch'd armes, and study to forget
Reseru'd thee for this better choise, embrace it.
Ep.
This happy match brings new nerues to giue strength
To our continued league.
Mace.
Hymen himselfe
Will blesse this marriage which we will solemnize
In the presence of these Kings.
Pon.
Who rest most happy
To be eye-witnesses of a Match that brings
Peace to the Empire.
Diocles.
We much thanke your loues,
But wher's Sapritius our Gouernour,
And our most zealous prouost good Theophilus?
If euer Prince were blest in a true seruant,
Or could the gods be debtors to a man,
Both they and we stand far ingag'd to cherish
His pietie and seruice.
Artem.
Sir the Gouernour
Brookes sadly his sonnes losse although he turnd
Apostata in death, but bold Theophilus
Who for the same cause in my presence seald
His holy anger on his daughters hearts.
Hauing with statutes first tride to conuert her,
Drag'd the bewitching Christian to the scaffold,
And saw her loose her head.
Dio.
He is all worthy,
And from his owne mouth I would gladly heare
The manner how she sufferd.
Arte.
'Twill be deliuerd
With such contempt and scorne, I know his nature
That rather twill beget your highnesse laughter
Then the least pittie.
Enter Theophilus, Sapritius, Macrinus.
Dio.
To that end I would heare it.
Arte.
He comes, with him the Gouernour.
Dio.
O Sapritius,
I am to chide you for your tendernesse,
But yet remembring that you are a father,
I will forget it, good Theophilus
Ile speake with you anone: neerer your eare, to
Sapritius.
By Antoninus soule I do coniure you,
And though not for religion, for his friendship,
Without demanding whats the cause that moues me,
Receiue my signet, by the power of this
Go to my prisons, and release all Christian
That are in fetters there by my command.
Mac.
But what shall follow?
Theo.
Haste then to the port,
You there shall finde two tall ships ready rig'd,
In which embarke the poore distressed soules
And beare them from the reach of tyranny,
Enquire not whither you are bound, the dietie
That they adore will giue you prosperous winds,
And make your voyage such, and largely pay for
Your hazard, and your trauaile: leaue me here
There is a scene that I must act alone.
Haste good Macrinus, and the great God guide you.
Mac.
Ile vndertake't, theres some thing prompts me to it
Tis to saue innocent blood, a Saintlike act,
And to be mercifull has neuer beene
By morrall men themselues esteemd a sin.
exit Mac.
Dioc.
You know your charge.
Sap.
And will with care obserue it.
Dio.
For I professe he is not Cæsars friend
That sheds a teare for any torture that
A Christians suffers. Welcome my best seruant
My carefull, zealous Prouost, thou hast toyld
To satisfie my will though in extreames,
I loue thee for't, thou art firme rocke, no changeling:
Prethee deliuer, and for my sake do it
Without excesse of bitternesse or scoffes
Before my brother and these kings, how tooke
The Christian her death.
Theo.
And such a presence
Though euery priuate head in this large roome
Were circl'd round with an imperiall crowne,
Her story will deserue, it is so full
Of excellency and wonder.
Ha! how's this?
Theo.
O marke it therefore, and with that attention,
As you would here an Embassie from heauen
By a wing'd Legate, for the truth deliuerd,
Both how and what this blessed virgin sufferd:
And Dorothea but hereafter nam'd,
You will rise vp with reuerence, and no more
As things vnworthy of your thoughts, remember
What the canoniz'd Spartan Ladies were
Which lying Greece so bosts of, your owne matrons
Your Romane dames whose figures you yet keepe
As holy relickes in her historie
Will find a second vrne. Gracehus, Cornelia,
Paulina that in death desirde to follow
Her husband Seneca, nor Brutus Portia
That swallowd burning coles to ouertake him,
Though all their seuerall worths were giuen to one
With this is to be mention'd.
Maximinus.
Is he mad?
Diocl.
Why they did die Theophilus, and boldly.
This did no more.
Theo.
They out of desperation
Are for vaine glory of an aftername
Parted with life. This had not mutinous sonnes
As the rash Gracchi were, nor was this Saint
A doting mother as Cornelia was:
This lost no husband in whose ouerthrow
Her wealth and honour suncke, no feare of want
Did make her being tedious, but aiming
At an immortall crowne, and in his cause
Who onely can bestow it; who sent downe
Legions of ministring Angels to beare vp
Her spotlesse soule to heauen; who entertaind it
With choyce celestiall musicke, equall to
To the motion of the spheres, she vncompeld
Chang'd this life for a better. My Lord Sapritius
You were present at her death, did you ere here
Such rauishing sounds?
Yet you sayd then it was witchcraft,
And diuellish illusions.
Theo.
I then hard it
With sinfull eares, and belch'd out blasphemous words
Against his dietie, which then I knew not,
Nor did beleeue in him.
Diocl.
Why dost thou now! or dar'st thou in our hearing?
Theoph.
Were my voyce
As lowd as is his thunder, to be heard
Through al the world, all potentates on earth
Ready to burst with rage should they but heare it,
Though hell to ayde their mallice lent her furies
Yet I would speake, and speake againe, and boldly,
I am a Christian, and the powers you worship
But dreames of fooles and madmen.
Maximinus.
Lay hands on him.
Dio.
Thou twice a child (for doting age so makes thee)
Thou couldst not else thy pilgrimage of life,
Being almost past through in the last moment,
Destroy what ere thou hast done good or great,
Thy youth did promise much, and growne a man
Thou madest it good, and with encrease of yeares
Thy actions still betterd: as the Sunne
Thou did rise gloriously, kepst a constant course
In all thy iourney, and now in the euening
When thou shouldst passe with honour to thy rest,
Wilt thou fall like a Meteor?
Sapritius.
Yet confesse
That thou art mad, and that thy tong and heart
Had no agreement.
Max.
Doe, no way is left else
To saue thy life Theophilus.
Diocl.
But refuse it
Destruction as horrid and as sodaine
Shall fall vpon thee, as if hell stood open
And thou wert sinking thither.
Theop.
Here me yet
Here for my seruice past.
What will he say?
Theo.
As euer I deseru'd your fauour here me,
And grant one boone, tis not for life I sue for,
Nor is it fit that I that nere knew pitty
To any Christian, being one my selfe
Should looke for any: no, I rather beg
The vtmost of your cruelty; I stand
Accomptable for thousand Christians deaths,
And were it possible that I could die
A day for euery one, then liue againe
To be againe tormented, twere to me
An easie pennance, and I should passe through
A gentle clensing fire, but that denyde me,
It being beyond the strength of feeble nature,
My sute is you would haue no pitty on me.
In mine owne house there are a thousand engines
Of studied crueltie, which I did prepare
For miserable Christian let me feele
As the Sicilian did his razen bull,
The horridst you can find, and I will say
In death that you are mercifull.
Dioc.
Despaire not
In this thou shalt preuaile, go fetch 'em hither,
some go for the racke.
Death shall put on a thousand shapes at once
And so appeare before thee, racks, and whips,
Thy flesh with burning pinsors torne, shall feed
The fire that heates them, and whats wanting to
The torture of thy body, Ile supply
In punishing thy mind: fetch all the Christians
That are in hold, and here before his face
Cut 'em in peeces.
Theo.
Tis not in thy power,
It was the first good deed I euer did,
They are remou'd out of thy raceh, how ere
I was determin'd for my sinnes to die,
I first tooke order for their liberty,
And still I dare thy worst.
Diocle.
Bind him I say,
The slaue that makes him giue the lowdest shrike
Shall haue ten thousand Drachmes, wretch ile force thee
To curse the power thou worship'st.
The.
Neuer, neuer,
No breath of mine shall euer be spent on him,
They torment him.
But what shall speake his Maiesty or mercy:
I am honour'd in my suffrings, weake tormentors
More tortures, more: alas you are vnskilfull,
For Heauens sake more; my brest is yet vntorne:
Heere purchase the reward that was propounded,
The Irons coole, heere are armes yet and thighes,
Spare no part of me.
Max.
He endures beyond
The suffrance of a man.
Sap.
No sigh nor grone
To witnesse he has feeling.
Dio.
Harder Villaines.
Enter Harpax.
Har.
Vnlesse that he blaspheme hee's lost for euer,
If torments euer could bring forth despaire,
Let these compell him to it. oh me
My ancient enemies againe,
falls downe.
Enter Dorothea in a white robe, crownes vpon her robe, a Crowne vpon her head, lead in by the Angell, Antoninus, Caliste and Christeta following all in white, but lesse glorious, the Angell with a Crowne for him.
The.
Most glorious vision,
Did ere so hard a bed yeeld man a dreame.
So heauenly as this? I am confirm'd,
Confirm'd you blessed spirits, and make hast
To take that crowne of immortality
You offer to me; death till this blest minute
I neuer thought thee slow pac'd, nor could I
Hasten thee now for any paine I suffer,
But that thou kepst me from a glorious wreath
Which through this stormy way I would creepe to,
Oh now I feele thee, blessed spirits I come
And witnesse for me, all these wounds and scarres,
I die a souldier in the Christian warres.
dies.
Sap.
I haue seene thousands tortur'd, but nere yet
A constancy like this.
Harpax.
I am twise damn'd.
Ang.
Haste to thy place appointed cursed fiend,
In spite of hell this souldier's not thy prey,
Tis I haue wonne, thou that hast lost the day.
exit Angelo the diuell sinkes with lightning.
Dio.
I thinke the centre of the earth be crackt,
Yet I still stand vnmou'd, and will go on,
The persecution that is here begun,
Through all the world with violence shall run.
flourish exeunt:
FINIS.
| The Virgin Martir | |