 | The Vnnatvrall Combat |  |
Actus secundi
Scæna prima.
Enter three Sea Captaines.2. Captaine.
Hee did accept the challenge then?
1. Cap.
Nay more,
Was overjoyd in't; and as it had beene
A faire invitement to a solemne feast,
And not a combate to conclude with death,
He chearefully imbrac'd it.
3. Cap.
Are the articles
Sign'd to on both parts?
1. Cap.
At the fathers suit,
With much unwillingnesse the governour
Consented to 'em
2. Cap.
You are inward with'
Our Admirall; could you yet never learne
VVhat the nature of the quarrell is, that renders
The sonne, more then incensed, implacable
Against the father?
1. Cap.
Never; yet I have
As far as manners would give warrant to it,
VVith my best curiousnesse of care observ'd him,
I have sate with him in his cabin a day together,
Sigh he did often, as if inward griefe,
And melancholy at that instant would
Choke up his vitall spirits, and now and then
A teare, or two, as in derision of
The toughnesse of his rugged temper would
Fall on his hallow cheekes, which but once felt,
A sudden flash of fury did dry up,
And laying then his hand upon his sword,
He would murmure, but yet so as I oft hard him,
We shall meete cruell father, yes we shall,
When i'll exact for every womanish drop
Of sorrow from these eies, a strict accompt
Of much more from thy heart.
2. Cap.
Tis wondrous strange.
3. Cap.
And past my apprehension.
1. Cap.
Yet what makes
The miracle greater, when from the maine top
A sayle's descride, all thoughts that doe concerne
Himselfe layd by, no Lyon pinchd with hunger,
Rowzes himselfe more fiercely from his den,
Then he comes on the decke, and there how wisely
He gives directions, and how stout he is
In his executions, we to admiration,
Have beene eye-witnesses, yet he never minds
The bootie when tis made ours, but as if
The danger, in the purchase of the prey
Delighted him much more then the rewarde,
His will made knowne he does retire himselfe
To his private contemplation, no joy
Express'd by him for victory.
Enter Malefort junior.
2. Cap.
Heare he comes
But with more chearefull lookes then ever yet
I saw him weare.
Mal. jun.
It was long since resolv'd on
Nor must I stagger now, may the cause
That forces mee to this unnaturall act,
And I finde rest in death, or my revenge,
To either I stand equall. Pray you Gentlemen
Be charitable in your censures of me,
And doe not entertaine a false beleefe
That I am mad, for undertaking that
Which must be, when effected, still repented.
It addes to my calamitie that I have
Discourse and reason, and but too well know
I can nor live, nor end a wretched life,
But both wayes I am impious. Doe not therefore
Ascribe the perturbation of my soule
To a servile feare of death: I oft have view'd
All kindes of his inevitable darts,
Nor are they terrible. Were I condemn'd to leape
From the cloud-covered browes of a steepe rocke
Into the deepe; or Curtius-like to fill up,
For my Countries safetie and an after name,
A bottomlesse Abysse, or charge through fire,
It could not so much shake me, as th'encounter
Of this dayes single enemie.
1. Cap.
If you please, Sir,
You may shun it, or defer it.
Mal. jun.
Not for the world:
Yet two things I entreat you, the first is,
You'll not enquire the difference betweene
My selfe and him, which as a father once
I honour'd, now my deadliest enemie,
The last is, if I fall, to beare my body
Far from this place, and where you please interre it.
I should say more, but by his sudden comming
I am cut off.
Enter Beaufort junior, and Montrevile leading in Malefort senior; Belgarde following with others.
Beauf. jun.
Let me, Sir, have the honour
To be your second.
With your pardon, Sir,
I must put in for that, since our tried friendship
Hath lasted from our infancie.
Belg.
I have serv'd
Under your command, and you have seen me fight,
And handsomely, though I say it, and if now
At this downe right game, I may but hold your cards,
I'll not pull downe the side.
Mal. sen.
I rest much bound
To your so noble offers, and I hope
Shall finde your pardon, though I now refuse 'em,
For which I'll yeeld strong reasons, but as briefly
As the time will give me leave. For me to borrow
(That am suppos'd the weaker) any aid
From the assistance of my Seconds sword,
Might write me downe in the blacke list of those,
That have nor fire, nor spirit of their owne;
But dare, and doe, as they derive their courage
From his example, on whose help and valour
They wholly doe depend. Let this suffice
In my excuse for that. Now if you please
On both parts to retire to yonder mount,
Where you, as in a Roman Theater,
May see the bloudy difference determin'd,
Your favours meet my wishes.
Mal. jun.
'Tis approv'd of
By me, and I command you lead the way,
And leave me to my fortune.
Beauf. jun.
I would gladly
Be a spectator (since I am deni'd
To be an Actor) of each blow, and thrust,
And punctually observe 'em.
Mal. jun.
You shall have
All you desire; for in a word or two
I must make bold to entertaine the time,
If he give suffrage to it.
Mal. sen.
Yes, I will,
Mal. jun.
Embrace with love on both sides, and with us
Leave deadly hate, and furie.
Mal. sen.
From this place
You nere shall see both living.
Belg.
What's past help, is
They embrace on both sides, and take leave severally of the father and sonne.
Beyond prevention.
Mal. sen.
Now we are alone, Sir,
And thou hast libertie to unlode the burthen
Which thou groan'st under. Speake thy griefes.
Mal. jun.
I shall, Sir;
But in a perplext forme and method, which
You onely can interpret; would you had not
A guiltie knowledge in your bosome of
The language which you force me to deliver,
So I were nothing. As you are my father
I bend my knee, and uncompell'd professe
My life, and all thats mine, to be your gift;
And that in a sonnes dutie I stand bound
To lay this head beneath your feet, and run
All desperate hazards for your ease and safetie.
But this confest on my part, I rise up,
And not as with a father, (all respect,
Love, feare, and reverence cast off,) but as
A wicked man I thus expostulate with you.
Why have you done that which I dare not speake,
And in the action chang'd the humble shape
Of my obedience, to rebellious rage
And insolent pride? and with shut eyes constrain'd me
To run my Barke of honour on a shelfe,
I must not see, nor if I saw it, shun it?
In my wrongs nature suffers, and lookes backward,
And mankinde trembles to see me pursue
What beasts would flie from. For when I advance
This sword, as I must doe against your head,
Pietie will weepe, and filiall dutie mourne,
To see their altars which you built up in me,
(From my griev'd soule I wish it) but produce
To qualifie, not excuse your deed of horror,
One seeming reason that I might fix here,
And move no farther.
Mal. sen.
Have I so far lost
A fathers power, that I must give account
Of my actions to my sonne? or must I plead
As a fearefull prisoner at the bar, while he
That owes his being to me sits a Judge
To censure that, which onely by my selfe
Ought to be question'd? mountaines sooner fall
Beneath their vallies, and the loftie Pine
Pay homage to the Bramble, or what else is
Preposterous in nature, ere my tongue
In one short sillable yeelds satisfaction
To any doubt of thine, nay though it were
A certaintie disdaining argument.
Since though my deeds wore Hels blacke liverie,
To thee they should appeare triumphall robes,
Set off with glorious honour, thou being bound
To see with my eyes, and to hold that reason,
That takes or birth or fashion from my will.
Mal. jun.
This sword divides that slavish knot.
Mal. sen.
It cannot,
It cannot wretch, and if thou but remember
From whom thou hadst this spirit, thou dar'st not hope it.
Who train'd thee up in armes but I? Who taught thee
Men were men onely when they durst looke downe
With scorne on death and danger, and contemn'd
All opposition, till plum'd victorie
Had made her constant stand upon their helmets?
Under my shield thou hast fought as securely
As the young Eglet, covered with the wings
Of her fierce Dam, learnes how and where to prey
All that is manly in thee, I call mine;
But what is weake and womanish, thine owne.
Presuming to contend with him, to whom
Submission is due, I will take from thee.
Looke therefore for extremities, and expect not
I will correct thee as a sonne, but kill thee
As a Serpent swolne with poyson, who surviving
A little longer, with infectious breath,
Would render all things neere him, like it selfe
Contagious. Nay, now my anger's up,
Ten thousand virgins kneeling at my feet,
And with one generall crie howling for mercie,
Shall not redeeme thee.
Mal. jun.
Thou incensed Power,
A while forbeare thy thunder, let me have
No aid in my revenge, if from the grave
My mother.
Mal. sen.
Thou shalt never name her more.
Above Beauf. jun. Montr. Belg. the three Sea Capt.
Beauf.
They are at it.
2. Cap.
That thrust was put strongly home.
Montr.
But with more strength avoyded.
Belg.
Well come in,
He has drawne bloud of him yet, well done old Cocke.
1. Cap.
That was a strange misse.
Beauf. jun.
That a certaine hit.
Belg.
Hee's falne, the day is ours.
Young Malefort slaine.
2. Cap.
The Admiral's slaine.
Montr.
The father is victorious!
Belg.
Let us haste
To gratulate his conquest.
1.
Wee to mourne
The fortune of the sonne.
Beauf. jun.
With utmost speed
Acquaint the Governour with the good successe,
That he may entertaine to his full merit,
The father of his Countries peace and safetie.
They descend.
Mal. sen.
Were a new life hid in each mangled limbe,
I would search, and finde it. And howere to some
Upon this senselesse flesh, I glorie in it.
That I have power to be unnaturall,
Is my securitie, die all my feares,
And waking jealousie, which have so long
Beene my tormentors, theres now no suspition;
A fact, which I alone am conscious of,
Can never be discover'd, or the cause
That call'd this Duell on. I being above
All perturbations, nor is it in
The power of Fate, againe to make me wretched.
Enter Beaufort jun. Montrevile. Belgarde, the three Sea Captaines.
Beauf. jun.
All honour to the Conquerour.
Who dares tax
My friend of treacherie now?
Belg.
I am verie glad, Sir,
You have sped so well. But I must tell you thus much,
To put you in minde that a low ebbe must follow
Your high swolne tide of happinesse, you have purchast this hour at a high price.
Mal. sen.
'Tis Belgarde,
Above all estimation, and a little
To be exalted with it cannot savour
Of arrogance: that to this arme and sword,
Marsellis owes the freedome of her feares,
Or that my loyaltie not long since eclips'd,
Shines now more bright than ever, are not things
to be lamented. Though indeed they may
Appeare too dearely bought, my falling glories
Being made up againe, and cemented
With a sonnes bloud. 'Tis true, he was my sonne
While he was worthy, but when he shooke off
His dutie to me, (which my fond indulgence
Upon submission might perhaps have pardon'd)
And grew his Countries enemie, I look'd on him
As a Stranger to my family, and a Traytor
That could bring in his head. I know in this
That I am censur'd rugged and austere,
That will vouchsafe not one sad sigh or teare
Vpon his slaughter'd body. But I rest
Well satisfi'd in my selfe, being assur'd
That extraordinarie vertues, when they soare
Too high a pitch for common sights to judge of,
Losing their proper splendour, are condemn'd
For most remarkable vices.
Beauf.
Tis too true, Sir,
In the opinion of the multitude:
But for my selfe that would be held your friend,
And hope to know you by a nearer name,
They are as they deserve, receiv'd.
Mal.
My daughter
Shall thanke you for the favour.
Beauf. jun.
I can wish
No happinesse beyond it.
1. Cap.
Shall we have leave
To beare the corps of our dead Admirall,
As he enjoyn'd us from this Coast?
Mal.
Provided
The articles agreed on be observ'd,
And you depart hence with it, making oath
Never hereafter but as friends to touch
Vpon this shore.
1. Cap.
Wee'll faithfully performe it.
Mal.
Then as you please dispose of it. 'Tis an object
That I could wish remov'd. His sins die with him,
So far he has my charitie.
1. Cap.
He shall have
The Sea Captaines beare the body off with sad musicke.
A Souldiers funerall.
Mal.
Farewell.
Beauf. jun.
These rites
Paid to the dead, the Conquerour that survives
Must reape the harvest of his bloudy labour,
And with all circumstance, and ceremonie
Wait on the Patron of our libertie,
Which he at all parts merits.
Mal.
I am honour'd.
Beyond my hopes.
Beauf. jun.
'Tis short of your deserts.
Lead on: Oh Sir you must: you are too modest.
Exeunt with loud musicke.
Scæna secunda.
Theocrine, Page, Women.Theoc.
Talke not of comfort, I am both wayes wretched,
And so distracted with my doubts and feares,
I know not where to fix my hopes. My losse
Is certaine in a father, or a brother,
Or both, such is the crueltie of my fate,
And not to be avoyded.
1. Wom.
You must beare it
With patience, Madam.
2. Wom.
And what's not in you
To be prevented, should not cause a sorrow
Which cannot help it.
Page,
Feare not my brave Lord
Your noble father; fighting is to him
Familiar as eating. He can teach
Our moderne Duellists how to cleave a button,
And in a new way, never yet found out
By old Caranza.
1. Wom.
May he be victorious,
And punish disobedience in his sonne,
Whose death in reason should at no part move you,
He being but halfe your brother, and the neernesse,
Which that might challenge from you, forfeited
By his impious purpose to kill him, from whom
He receiv'd life.
A shout within.
A generall shout:
1. Wom.
Of joy.
Page.
Looke up deare Lady, sad newes never came
Usherd with loud applause.
Enter Vsher.
Theo.
I stand prepard,
To indure the shocke of it.
Ush.
I am out of breath
With running to deliver first.
Theo.
What?
Vsh.
Wee are all made,
My Lord has wont the day, your brother's slaine,
The pirats gone, and by the governour,
And states, and all the men of war he is
Brought home in triumph, nay no musing, pay me
For my good newes hereafter.
Thio.
Heaven is just!
Ush.
Give thankes at leasure, make all hast to meete him
I coulde wish I were a horse that I might beare you
To him upon my backe.
Page.
Thou art an asse,
And this is a sweete burthen.
Vsh.
Peace you crackrope.
Exeunt.
Scæna tertia.
Loud musicke, Montrevile, Belgarde, Beaufort junior, Beaufort senior, Malefort, followed by Montaigne, Chamont Lanour.Beauf. sen.
All honours we can give you and rewards
Though all that's rich, or pretious in Marsellis
Were layd downe at your feet, can hold no waight
With your deservings, let me glory in
Your action as if it were mine owne,
And have the honour with the armes of love,
To embrace the great performer of a deed,
Mont.
Imagine, noble Sir, in what we may
Expresse our thankfulnesse, and rest assur'd
It shall be freely granted.
Cham.
Hee's an enemie
To goodnesse and to vertue, that dares thinke
There's any other thing within our power to give,
Which you in justice may not boldly challenge.
Lan.
And as your owne, for we will ever be
At your devotion.
Mal.
Much honour'd Sir,
And you my noble Lords, I can say onely,
The greatnesse of your favours overwhelme me,
And like too large a saile, for the small barke
Of my poore merits, sinks me. That I stand
Vpright in your opinions, is an honour
Exceeding my deserts, I having done
Nothing but what in dutie I stood bound to:
And to expect a recompence were base,
Good deeds being ever in themselves rewarded.
Yet since your liberall bounties tell me that
I may with your allowance be a Suitor,
To you my Lord I am an humble one,
And must aske that, which knowne, I feare you will
Censure me over-bold.
Beauf. sen.
It must be something
Of a strange nature, if it finde from me
Deniall or delay.
Mal.
Thus then my Lord,
Since you encourage me: You are happie in
A worthy sonne, and all the comfort that
Fortune has left me is one daughter; now
If it may not appeare too much presumption,
To seeke to match my lownesse with your height,
I should desire (and if I may obtaine it,
I write Nil ultra to my largest hopes)
She may in your opinion be thought worthy
And married to your sonne: their yeares are equall,
And their desires I thinke too, she is not
Ignoble, nor my state contemptible,
And if you thinke me worthy your alliance,
'Tis all I doe aspire to.
Beauf. jun.
You demand
That which with all the service of my life
I should have labour'd to obtaine from you.
O, Sir, why are you slow to meet so faire
And noble an offer? Can France shew a virgin
That may be parallel'd with her? Is she not
The Phœnix of the time? the fairest star
In the bright sphere of women?
Beauf. sen.
Be not rap'd so:
Though I dislike not what is motion'd, yet
In what so neere concernes me, it is fit
I should proceed with judgement.
Enter Vsher, Theocrine, Page, Women.
Beauf. jun.
Here she comes,
Looke on her with impartiall eyes, and then
Let envie if it can, name one grac'd feature
In which she is defective.
Mal.
Welcome Girle:
My joy, my comfort, my delight, my all,
Why dost thou come to greet my victorie
In such a sable habit? this shew'd well
When thy father was a prisoner, and suspected;
But now his faith and loyaltie are admir'd,
Rather than doubted, in your outward garments
You are to expresse the joy you feele within;
Nor should you with more curiousnesse and care,
Pace to the Temple to be made a Bride,
Than now, when all mens eyes are fixt upon you,
You should appeare to entertaine the honour
From me descending to you, and in which
You have an equall share.
Heaven has my thankes
With all humility payd for your faire fortune,
And so farre duty bindes me, yet a little
To mourne a brothers losse however wicked,
The tendernesse familiar to our sex
May if you please excuse
Mal.
Thou art deceiv'd.
Hee living was a blemish to thy beauties,
But in his death gives ornament, and lustre
To thy perfections, but that they are
So exquisitly rare, that they admit not
The least addition. Ha! heres yet a print
Of a sad teare on thy cheeke, how it takes from
Our present happinesse! with a fathers lips,
A loving fathers lips, i'll kisse it off
The cause no more remembred.
Theo.
You forget Sir
The presence we are in.
Mal.
Tis well considered,
And yet who is the owner of a treasure,
Above all valew, but without offence,
May glory in the glad possession of it.
Nor let it in you excellence beget wonder,
Or any here that looking on the daughter,
I feast my selfe in the imagination
Of those sweet pleasures, and allowd delights,
I tasted from the mother, who still lives
In this her perfit modell, for she had
Such smooth & high archd brows, such sparkling eies
Whose every glance stord Cupids emptied quiver;
Such ruby lips, and such a lovely browne,
Disdaining all adulterate ayds of art,
Kep'd a perpetuall spring upon her face,
As death himselfe lamented being forc'd
To blast it with his palenesse, and if now,
Her brightnes dimd with sorrow, take and please you,
Thinke think young Lord, when she appeares her selfe
How farre she will transport you.
Beauf. jun.
Did she need it,
The praise which you (and well deservd) give to her
Must of necessity raise new desires
In one indebted more to yeares; to me
Your words are but as oyle powr'd on a fire,
That flames already at the height.
Mal.
No more;
I doe believe you, and let me from you
Finde so much credit, when I make her yours
I doe possesse you of a gift, which I
With much unwillingnesse part from. My good Lords
Forbeare your further trouble, give me leave, for on the suddaine I
am indisposd to retire to my owne house, and rest. To morrow
As you command me I will be your ghest,
And having deckt my daughter like her selfe,
You shall have farther conference.
Beauf. sen.
You are Master
Of your owne will but fayle not i'll expect you.
To young Beaufort and the rest.
Mal.
Nay I will be excusd; I must part with you
My dearest Theocrine give me thy hand,
I will support thee.
Theo.
You gripe it too hard Sir.
Mal.
Indeed I doe, but have no farther end in it,
But love and tendernesse such as I may challenge
And you must grant. Thou art a sweet one yes
And to be cherished.
They goe off several wayes
Theo.
May I still deserve it.
| The Vnnatvrall Combat | |