 | Histrio-mastix. Or The Player whipt |  |
Actus quintus.
Enter Warre Ambition, Fury, Horror, Ruine.War.
Rule fier-eied Warre, reuell in blood and flames,
Enuy, whose breath hath poysoned all estates,
Hath now resigned her spightfull throne to vs:
Stand forth Ambition; fly through the land,
And enter euery brest of noble blood,
Infect their honored mindes with factious thoughts,
And make them glister in opposed armes:
Let vniust force and scarlet Tyranny
Wait on their Actions till their vlcers breake,
Or else be launced by the hand of Warre,
Which cannot be without a lasting scarre,
Ambi.
Ambition like a Pestilence doth fly,
To poyson Honour and Nobility.
Exit Ambition.
Fury, thy turne is next, goe now and fill
The trunck of Peasants with thy dangerous breath,
Inspire them with the spirit of Mutiny,
Rage, and rebellion, make them desperate
Hurry them headlong vnto euery ill,
Like dust rais'd with a whirlwind; let their eyes,
Be euer fixt vpon the brused prints
Made in their state by wilde oppression,
And (after all) possesse them with this fire,
That onely Warre must purchase their desire.
Fury.
Fury shall shine amongst this multitude,
Like a bright Meteor in the darkest cloud.
Exit Fury.
War.
Horror shall greet the bosome of greene youth,
The melting liuer of pied gallantry,
The wrinckled vizard of Deuotion,
The cheuerell conscience of corrupted law,
And frozen heart of gowty Merchandize,
Horror wound these, strike palsies in their limmes,
And as thou stalk'st (in thy prodigious shape,)
And meet'st a fellow swolne with mounted place;
Shake him with glaunses of thy hollow eyes,
And let thy vigour liue as his heart dies.
Horr.
Ynough, ere long, the ayre shall ring with shrikes.
And sad lament of those, whom Horror strikes.
Exit. Horror.
War.
Horror adiew,
These three, are Vshers to our Deity,
Onely vast Ruine heere attends on vs,
And is a follower of our high designes:
Ruine thou faythfull seruant to grimme Warre,
Now teach thy murdring shot to teare mens limm's,
Thy brazen Cannos how to make a breache,
In a fayre Citties bozome; teach thy fiers
To climbe the toppes of houses; and thy mines,
Consume whole groues and standing fields of Corne
In thy wild age, and make the proud earth groane,
Vnder the weight of thy confusion.
Ruine.
This and much more shall Ruine execute.
War.
Meane while weele steepe our sinowie feet in blood
And daunce vnto the Musicke of the field,
Trumpets for trebbles, bases, bellowing drummes.
Broyles Enuy bred, but Warre shall end those brawles,
Deafe warre that will not heare a word of Peace:
Sharpe pikes shall serue for subtle lawiers pens
The Marchants silkes shall turne to shining steele,
In steed of false-yard stickes, large horsemens staues,
Shall measure out true pattern's of their graues.
Exeunt.
Enter Belsh setting vppe billes, Enter to him a Captaine.
Capt.
Sirra what set you vp there?
Belsh.
Text billes for Playes.
Capt.
What Playes in time of Warres? hold sirra
Ther's a new plott.
Belsh.
How many meane you shall come in for this?
Capt.
Player tis presse money
Bel.
Presse money, presse money, alasse sir presse me,
I am no fit Actor for th'action.
Capt.
Text billes must now be turn'd to Iron billes.
Exit Captaine.
Bel.
And please you let them be dagger pies.
Enter an Officer, Post-hast, Gulsh, Gut and Clowt.
Officer
Sir Oliuers men; the last Players tooke the
Townes reward like honest men.
Gulsh
Those were a cupple of Cunnicatchers that
Coosen Maiors, and haue no consort but themselues,
Maister knowne.
Offi.
Meane while ther's presse-mony, for your reward,
Clou.
No (I thanke your worship) we meane not to trouble
your towne at this time.
Offi.
Well Masters, you that are maister-sharers,
Must prouide you vpon your owne purses,
Gut.
Alasse sir, we Players are priuieldg'd,
Tis our Audience must fight in the field for vs,
And we vpon the stage for them.
Post.
Sir as concerning halfe a score angells
Or such a matter for a man in my place.
Offi.
Those daies are out of date.
Bels.
The more's the pitty sir,
Exit Officer.
Guls.
Well, I haue a Brewer to my Ingle,
Heele furnish me with a horse great inough.
Post.
Faith Ile eene past all my ballads together,
And make a coate to hold out pistoll-proofe;
Clout.
I meruaile what vse I should make of my Ingle,
The hobby-horse-seller.
Gutt.
Faith make him sell a whole troupe of horse
To buy thee one.
Bel.
Sirrs, if these soldiers light vpon our playing parrell,
they'le strout it in the field, and flaunt it out.
Post.
Well sirs, I haue no stomacke to these warres,
Gut.
Faith, I haue a better stomacke to my breakfast.
Clout.
A shrewd mornings worke for Players,
Omn.
Let's be gon?
Exeunt.
Enter Mauortius and Larius on one side, Philarchus and Hiletus on the other with weapons Drawne: Chrisoganus betweene them. Ambition breathing amongst them.
Chri.
Haue patience worthy Lords, and calme your spirits.
Mauo.
Peace prating Scholler: bid the Sea be still,
Or stay the winged lightning in his course;
When thou doost this, thy words shall charme me too.
Till then preserue thy breath.
Phi.
Mauortius, dar'st thou maintaine thy words?
Mauo.
How? dare Philarchus? yes, I dare doe more;
In bloud or fire; or where thou darst not come;
In the numme fingers of cold death I dare.
Phi.
Swallow those words, or thou shalt eate my sword.
Lar.
He is no Estrich sir he loues no yron.
Hil.
And yet me thinkes he should be by his plume.
Mauo.
What are you playing with my feather too?
They all runne one at another, Chrysog: steps betweene them.
Chri.
O stay your rages,
Let not Ambition captiuate your blood,
Make not your hates obiects for vulgar eyes.
Mauo.
A pox vpon this linguist, take him hence;
Philarchus, I defie thee, and in scorne,
Spit on thy bozome; vowing heere by heauen,
If either sword, or fire, or strength of men,
Or any other steeled violence,
Can bring to swift confusion what is thine,
Vpon this gratefull soyle; it shall be done.
Phi.
And when 'ts done, I will restore my wrongs
Out of thy Forts, thy Castles and thy lands.
Mauo.
My lands?
Phi.
I, factious Lord, till then adiew,
Weele shine like Commets in next enter-view.
Exeunt Phi. and Hile.
Mauo.
My soule is bigge in trauaile with reuenge,
And I could rip her wombe vp with a stabbe,
To free th'imprisoned issue of my thought.
Exeunt, manet Chisoganus.
Chri.
O, how this vulture, (vile Ambition,)
Tyers on the heart of greatnesse, and deuoures,
Their bleeding honours, whil'st their empty names,
Now is the time wherein a melting eye
May spend it selfe in teares, and with salt drops,
Write woe, and desolation in the dust,
Vpon the frighted bosome of our land,
Pitty and Piety are both exilde,
Religion buried with our Fathers bones,
In the cold earth; and nothing but her face,
Left to adorne these grosse and impious times.
stand aside.
A noise within crying, Liberty, liberty.
Enter a sort of Russetings and Mechanichalls, (Fury leading them) and crying confusedly.
Omnes.
Liberty, liberty, liberty.
1.
Nay but stay, stay, my Masters: we haue not insulted yet who shall be our Captaine.
2.
Masse that's true: faith let's all be Captaines.
3.
Content, so wee shall bee sure to haue no equalitie amongst vs.
4.
O, it's best, for, (for mine owne part) I scorne to haue an equall.
1.
Well then: what exploit shall we do first?
2.
Marry Ile tell you:
Let's pluck downe the Church, and set vp an Ale-house.
Omnes.
O excellent, excellent, excellent, a rare exploit, a rare exploite.
1.
Good: this is for exploite: but then there's a thing cal'd Action.
3.
O, that's going to Sea; that, we haue nothing to do withall,
4.
No, we are all for the land, wee.
2.
Land, I: weele pluck downe all the noble houses in the land, e're we haue done.
1.
It were a most noble seruice, and most worthy of the Chronicle.
2.
Slid, these Lords are growne so proud,
Nay, weele haue a fling at the Lawyers too.
O, I, first of all at the Lawyers.
4.
True, that we may haue the law in our owne hands.
1.
O then we may take vp what we will of the Marchants.
2.
I and forfet our bonds at pleasure, no body can sue vs.
3.
O, 'twill be rare: I wonder how much Veluet will apparell me and my horse.
4.
Talke not of that man, weele haue inough: All shall be common.
1.
Wiues and all: what, Helter, skelter.
2.
Slid, we are men as well as they are.
3.
And we came all of our Father Adam.
2.
Goe to then, why should we be their slaues?
Omnes.
Liberty, liberty, liberty.
Exeunt.
Chri.
See, see, this common beast the multitude,
(Transported thus with fury) how it raues;
Threatning all states with ruine, to englut
Their bestiall and more brutish appetites.
O you auspicious, and diuinest powers,
(That in your wisdomes suffer such dread plagues
To flowe and couer a rebellious land)
Giue end vnto their furies! and driue back
The roaring torrent on the Authors heads,
That (in their pride of Rage) all eyes may see.
Iustice hath whips to scourge impiety.
Exit.
Enter Lyon-rash to Fourchier sitting in his study: at one end of the stage: At the other end enter Vourcher to Uelure in his shop.
Lyon.
Good morrow maister Fourcher.
Four.
Maister Lyon-rash you are welcome:
How fare you sir, in these prodigious times?
Lyon.
Troth like a man growne wilde and desperate,
E'ene spent with horror of their strange effects.
Four.
I feare they will be much more stranger yet.
Lyon.
And you haue cause to feare sir.
So haue you: if wealth may make a man suspect his state,
What newes heare you sir? sit downe I pray you.
They sit and whisper whilst the other two speake.
Vouu.
I wonder how you dare keepe open shoppe,
Considering the tumults are abroad:
They say the Nobles all are vp in armes,
And the rude commons in disseuerd troupes
Haue gathered dangerous head, and make such spoyle,
As would strike dead a true reporters tongue.
Vel.
Faith I am ignorant what course to take,
Wee i'th Citty heere are so distracted
As if our spirits were all earth and ayre,
I know not how: each houre heere comes fresh newes,
And nothing certaine.
The other two againe.
Four.
Well if this be true,
The issue cannot be but dangerous,
Lyon.
O they haue made the violent'st attempts
That ere were heard of: ruin'd Churches, Townes,
Burn't goodly Mannours, and indeed layd wast.
All the whole Country as they passe along.
The other.
Vour.
Ther's no preuention if they once come heere
But that our Citty must endure the sack.
Vel.
I feare it sir.
Vour.
Faith we are sure to feele
The fury of the tempest when it comes.
The Law and Merchandize may both go begge.
Enter Champerty to her husband and Lyon-rash.
Cham.
Where are you husband, do you heere the newes?
Four.
What newes on Gods name?
Cham.
O the enimies!
Four.
What of the enemies?
They are entred into the citty.
Lyo.
Adiew good maister Fourcher.
Fou.
Lord haue mercy vpon vs,
Cham.
O good Maister Lyon-rash goe pray.
Exeunt Four. Lyon, Cham.
Uel.
How now, what noyse is this?
Vou.
They cry arme arme me thinkes.
Enter Perpetuana.
Perp.
O sweet heart the Spaniards are come,
We shall all be kild they say.
Maister Vourcher what shall we doe? O Lord.
Enter a sort of fellowes with armour and weapons and crosse the stage crying arme, arme, arme.
Omn,
Arme, arme, arme.
Exeunt.
Enter a Captaine with Souldiers: the Souldiers hauing most of the Players apparrell; and bringing out the Players among'st them.
Soul.
Come on Players, now we are the Sharers
And you the hired men: Nay you must take patience,
Slid how do you march?
Sirha is this you would rend and teare the Cat
Vpon a Stage, and now march like a drown'd rat?
Looke vp and play the Tamburlaine: you rogue you.
Exeunt.
Enter all the factions of Noblemen, Peasants, and Cittizens fighting: the ruder sorte driue in the rest and cry a sacke, a sacke, Hauoke hauocke, Burne the Lawiers bookes; teare the Silkes out of the shops: in that confusion: the Scholler scaping from among them, they all go out and leaue him vpon the Stage.
Chri.
Thus Heauen (in spite of fury) can preserue,
O, what a thing is man, that thus forgets
The end of his creation; and each houre
Strikes at the glory of his maker thus?
What brazen vizage, or black yron soule
Hath strength to Iustifie so Godlesse deeds?
Hee that is most infeoft to Tyrannie,
The man whose Iawes burne most with thirst of bloud,
What coulours or thin cobweb can he weaue,
To couer so abhor'd iniquities?
If then there be no shadow, no pretext,
To vaile their loathed bodies; what should make
Men so inamour'd on this Strumpet warre.
To doate vpon her forme? when (in her selfe)
Shee's made of nothing, but infectious plagues.
Witnesse the present Chaos of our Sceane,
Where euery streete is chain'd with linckes of spoile,
Heere proud Ambition rides; there Furie flies,
Heere Horror; and there ruthlesse Murder stalkes,
Led on by Ruine, and in Steele and fire,
That now on toppes of houses; now in vaults,
Now in the sacred Temples; heere, and there
Runnes wilde.
Exit.
Allarmes in seuerall places, that brake him off thus: After a retreat sounded, the Musicke playes and Pouerty enters.
| Histrio-mastix. Or The Player whipt | |