 | The Loyal Svbiect |  |
Actus Quintus.
Scæna Prima.
Enter Duke, Burris, and Gentlemen.Duke.
How do's Lord Archas yet?
Bur.
But weake and't please ye,
Yet all the helpes that art can, are applied to him;
His heart's untouch't, and whole yet; and no doubt sir,
His minde being sound, his body soone will follow.
Du.
O that base knave that wrong'd him, without leave too;
But I shall find an houre to give him thankes for't;
He's fast I hope?
Bur.
As fast as irons can keep him:
But the most fearefull wretch—
Du.
He has a conscience,
A cruell stinging one I warrant him.
A loaden one: But what newes of the Souldier?
I did not like their parting, 'twas too sullen.
Bur.
That they keep still, and I feare a worse clap:
They are drawn out of the Towne, and stand in counsels,
Hatching unquiet thoughts, and cruell purposes:
I went my selfe unto 'em, talk't with the Captaines,
Whom I found fraught with nothing but loud murmurs,
And desperate curses, sounding these words often
Like trumpets to their angers: we are ruin'd,
Our services turn'd to disgraces, mischiefes,
Our brave old Generall, like one had pilfer'd,
Tortur'd, and whipt: the Collonells eyes like torches,
Blaze everie where and fright faire peace.
Gent.
Yet worse sir:
The newes is currant now, they meane to leave ye,
Leave their allegiance: and under Olins charge
The bloudy Enemy march strait against ye.
Bur.
I have heard this too sir.
Du.
This must be prevented,
And suddenly, and warily.
Bur.
'Tis time sir,
But what to minister, or how?
Du.
Go in with me,
And there wee'l thinke upon't: such blows as these,
Equall defences aske, else they displease.
Exeunt.
Scæne 2.
Enter Petesca, and Gentlewoman.Pet.
Lord, what a coile has here been with these Souldiers?
They are cruell fellowes.
Wo.
And yet me thought we found 'em
Hansome enough; I'le tell thee true Petesca,
I look'd for other manner of dealings from 'em,
And had prepar'd my selfe; but where's my Lady?
Pet.
In her old dumps within: monstrous mellancholly;
Sure she was mad of this wench.
Wo.
And she had been a man,
She would have been a great deale madder, I am glad she is shifted.
Pet.
'Twas a wicked thing for me to betray her,
Ent. Alinda
And yet I must confesse she stood in our lights,
What young thing's this?
Al.
Good morrow beuteous Gentlewomen:
Pray you is the Princesse stirring yet?
Wo.
He has her face.
Pe.
Her very tongue, and tone too: her youth upon him.
Al.
I ghesse ye to be the Princesse women.
Pet.
Yes, We are sir.
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Pray is there not a Gentlewoman waiting on her Grace,
Ye call Alinda?
Pet.
The devill sure in her shape.
Wo.
I have heard her tell my Lady of a brother,
An only brother that she had: in travell—
Pet.
'Mas, I remember that: this may be he too:
I would this thing would serve her.
Enter Olimpia
Wo.
So would I wench,
We should love him better sure: sir, here's the Princes,
She best can satisfie ye.
Al.
How I love that presence!
O blessed eyes how nobly shines your comforts!
Ol.
What Gentleman is that?
Wo.
We know not Madam:
He ask'd us for your Grace: and as we guesse it,
He is Alindas Brother.
Ol.
Ha? let me marke him:
My griefe has almost blinded me: her brother?
By Venus, he has all her sweetnesse upon him:
Two silver drops of dew, were never liker.
Al.
Gratious Lady—
Ol.
That pleasant pipe he has too.
Al.
Bring my happinesse to passe by this way,
And having as I understand by Letters,
A sister in your vertuous service Madam—
Ol.
O now my heart, my heart akes.
Al.
All the comfort
My poore youth has, all that my hopes have built me,
I thought it my first duty, my best service
Here to arive first, humbly to thanke your Grace
For my poore sister, humbly to thanke your noblenesse,
That bounteous goodnesse in ye.
Ol.
'Tis he certainly.
Al.
That spring of favour to her: with my life Madam
If any such most happy meanes might meet me,
To shew my thankefulnesse.
Ol.
What have I done foole?
Al.
She came a stranger to your Grace, no Courtier;
Nor of that curious breed befits your service,
Yet one I dare assure my soule, that lov'd ye
Before she saw ye; doated on your vertues;
Before she knew those faire eyes long'd to read 'em,
You only had her prayers, you her wishes;
And that one hope to be yours once, preserv'd her,
Ol.
I have done wickedly.
Al.
A little beauty,
Such as a Cottage breeds, she brought along with her;
And yet our Countrie eyes esteem'd it much too:
But for her beauteous mind forget great Lady
I am her brother, and let me speake a stranger,
Since she was able to beget a thought, 'twas honest,
The dayly studdy how to fit your services,
Truly to tread that vertuous path you walke in,
So fir'd her honest soule, we thought her Sainted;
I presume she is still the same: I would faine see her,
For Madam, 'tis no little love I owe her.
Ol.
Sir, such a maid there was, I had—
Al.
There was Madam?
Ol.
O my poore wench: eyes, I will ever curse ye
For your credulity, Alinda.
Al.
That's her name, Madam.
Ol.
Give me a little leave sir to lament her.
Al.
Is she dead Lady?
Ol.
Dead sir, to my service.
She is gone, pray ye aske no further,
Al.
I obey Madam:
Gone? now must I lament too: said ye gone, Madam?
Ol.
Gone, gone for ever.
Al.
That's a cruell saying,
Her honour too?
Ol.
Prethee looke angry on me,
And if thou ever lovedst her, spit upon me;
Doe something like a brother, like a friend,
And do not only say thou lov'st her—
Al.
Ye amaze me.
Ol.
I ruin'd her, I wrong'd her, I abus'd her;
Poore innocent soule, I stung her; sweet Alinda,
Thou vertuous maid, my soule now cals thee vertuous.
Why do ye not raile now at me?
Al.
For what Lady?
Ol.
Call me base treacherous woman.
Al.
Heaven defend me.
Ol.
Rashly I thought her false, and put her from me,
Rashly, and madly I betrai'd her modesty,
Put her to wander, heaven knows where: nay, more sir,
Stucke a blacke brand upon her.
Al.
'Twas not well Lady,
Ol.
'Twas damnable: she loving me so deerely,
Never poore wench lov'd so: Sir, beleeve me,
'Twas the most dutious wench, the best companion,
When I was pleas'd, the happiest, and the gladdest,
The modestest sweet nature dwelt within her:
I saw all this, I knew all this I lov'd it,
I doated on it too, and yet I kil'd it:
O what have I forsaken? what have I lost?
Al.
Madam, I'le take my leave, since she is wandring,
'Tis fit I know no rest.
Ol.
Will you go too sir?
I have not wrong'd you yet, if you dare trust me,
For yet I love Alinda there, I honour her,
I love to looke upon those eyes that speake her,
To read that face againe, modesty keepe me,
Alinda, in that shape: but why should you trust me,
'Twas I betray'd your sister, I undid her;
And beleeve me, gentle youth, 'tis I weep for her:
Appoint what pennance you please: but stay then,
And see me performe it: aske what honour this place
Is able to heape on ye, or what wealth:
If following me will like ye, my care of ye,
Which for your sisters sake, for your owne goodnesse—
Al.
Not all the honour earth h'as, now she's gone Lady,
Not all the favour; yet if I sought preferment,
Under your bounteous Grace I would only take it.
Peace rest upon ye: one sad teare every day
For poore Alindas sake, 'tis fit ye pay,
Exit.
Ol.
A thousand noble youth, and when I sleep,
Even in my silver slumbers still I'le weep.
Exit.
Scæne 3.
Enter Duke and Gentlemen.Duke.
Have ye been with 'em?
Gent.
Yes, and't please your Grace,
But no perswasion serves 'em, nor no promise,
They are fearefull angry, and by this time sir,
Upon their march to the enemy—
Du.
They must be stopt.
Enter Burris.
Gent.
I, but what force is able? and what leader—
Du.
How now, have you been with Archas?
Bur.
Yes, and't please ye,
And told him all: he frets like a chas'd Lyon,
And cals for his Armes: and all those honest Courtiers
That dare draw Swords.
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Is he able to do any thing?
Bur.
His mind is well enough; and where his charge is,
Let him be ne're so sore, 'tis a full Army.
Du.
Who commands the Rebels?
Bur.
The young Collonell,
That makes the old man almost mad: he sweares sir,
He will not spare his Sons head for the Dukedome.
Du.
Is the Court in Armes?
Bur.
As fast as they can bussell,
Every man mad to goe now: inspir'd strangely,
As if they were to force the Enemie,
I beseech your Grace to give me leave.
Du.
Pray go sir,
And looke to the old man well; take up all fairely,
And let no bloud be spilt; take generall pardons,
And quench this fury with faire peace.
Bur.
I shall sir,
Or seale it with my service; they are villaines;
The Court is up: good sir, go strengthen 'em,
Your Royall sight will make 'em scorne all dangers;
The Generall needs no proofe.
Du.
Come let's go view 'em.
Exeunt.
Scæne 4.
Enter Theodore, Putskie, Ancient, Souldiers, Drums, and Collours.The.
Tis known we are up, and marching: no submission,
No promise of base peace can cure our maladies,
We have suffer'd beyond all repaire of honour:
Your valiant old man's whipt; whipt Gentlemen,
Whipt like a slave: that flesh that never trembled,
Nor shrunke one sinew at a thousand charges,
That noble body rib'd in armes, the Enemy
So often shooke at, and then shun'd like thunder,
That bodies torne with lashes.
Anc.
Let's turne head.
Put.
Turne nothing Gentlemen, let's march on fairely,
Unlesse they charge us.
The.
Thinke still of his abuses,
And keep your angers.
Anc.
He was whipt like a top,
I never saw a whore so lac'd: Court schoole-butter?
Is this their diet? I'le dresse 'em one running banquet:
What Oracle can alter us? did not we see him?
See him we lov'd?
The.
And though we did obey him,
Forc'd by his reverence for that time; is't fit Gentlemen?
My noble friends, is't fit we men, and Souldiers,
Live to endure this, and looke on too?
Put.
Forward:
They may call backe the Sun as soone, stay time,
Prescribe a Law to death, as we endure this.
The.
They will make ye all faire promises.
Anc.
We care not.
The.
Use all their arts upon ye.
Anc.
Hang all their arts.
Put.
And happily they'l bring him with 'em.
Anc.
March apace then,
He is old and cannot overtake us.
Put.
Say he doe.
An.
Wee'l run away with him: they shall never see him more:
The truth is, wee'l heare nothing, stop at nothing,
Consider nothing but our way; beleeve nothing,
Not though they say their prayers: be content with nothing,
But the knocking out their braines: and last, do nothing
But ban 'em and curse 'em, till we come to kill 'em.
The.
Remove then forwards bravely; keep your minds whole,
And the next time we face 'em, shall be fatall.
Ex.
Scæne 5.
Enter Archas, Duke, Bur. Gent. and Sould.Ar.
Peace to your Grace; take rest sir, they are before us.
Ex. Du.
Gent.
They are sir, and upon the march
Ar.
Lord Burris,
Take you those horse and coast 'em: upon the first advantage,
If they will not slacke their march, charge 'em up roundly,
By that time I'le come in.
Bur.
I'le do it truly.
Exit.
Gent.
How do you feele your selfe sir?
Ar.
Well, I thanke ye;
A little weake, but anger shall supply that;
You will all stand bravely to it?
All.
Whilst we have lives sir.
Ar.
Ye speake like Gentlemen; I'le make the knaves know;
The proudest, and the strongest hearted Rebell,
They have a law to live in, and they shall have;
Beat up a pace, by this time he is upon 'em,
Drum within.
And sword, but hold me now, thou shalt play ever.
Ex.
Enter Drums beating, Theodore, Putskie, Ancient, and their Souldiers.
The.
Stand, stand, stand close, and sure;
Enter Bur. and 1 or 2 Soul.
The horse will charge us.
Anc.
Let 'em come one, we have provender sit for 'em.
Put.
Here comes Lord Burris sir, I thinke to parley.
The.
You are welcome noble sir, I hope to our part.
Bur.
No, valiant Collonell, I am come to chide ye,
To pitty ye; to kill ye, if these faile me;
Fie, what dishonour seeke ye? what blacke infamy!
Why do ye draw out thus? draw all shame with ye?
Are these sit cares in subjects? I command ye
Lay downe your armes againe, move in that peace,
That faire obedience you were bred in.
Put.
Charge us?
We come not here to argue.
The.
Charge up bravely,
And hotly too, we have hot spleenes to meet ye,
Enter Ar. Gent. & Soul.
Hot as the shames are offer'd us.
Bur.
Looke behind ye.
Do you see that old man? do you know him Souldiers?
Put.
Your father sir, beleeve me—
Bur.
You know his marches,
You have seene his executions: is it yet peace?
The.
Wee'l dye here first.
Bur.
Farewell: you'l heare on's presently.
Ar.
Stay Burris: this is too poore, too beggerly a body
To beare the honour of a charge from me,
A sort of tatterd Rebels; go provide Gallowses;
Ye are troubled with hot heads, I'le coole ye presently:
These looke like men that were my Souldiers
Now I behold 'em neerly, and more narrowly,
My honest friends: where got they these faire figures?
Where did they steale these shapes?
Bur.
They are strooke already.
Ar.
Do you see that fellow there, that goodly Rebell?
He lookes as like a Captaine, I lov'd tenderly:
A fellow of a faith indeed.
Bur.
He has sham'd him.
Ar.
And that that beares the Collors there, most certaine
So like an Ancient of mine owne, a brave fellow,
A loving and obedient, that beleeve me Burvis,
I am amaz'd and troubled: and were it not
I know the generall goodnesse of my people,
49
And am assur'd they would as soone turne devils
As Rebells to allegeance, for mine honour.
Bu.
Here needs no wars.
Put.
I pray forgive us sir.
Anc.
Good Generall forgive us, or use your sword,
Your words are double death.
All.
Good noble Generall.
Bur.
Pray sir be mercifull.
Ar.
Weep out your shames first,
Ye make me foole for companie: fie Souldiers,
My Souldiers too, and play these tricks: what's he there?
Sure I have seen his face too; yes, most certaine
I have a son, but I hope he is not here now,
'Would much resemble this man, wondrous neare him,
Just of his height and making too, you seeme a Leader.
The.
Good sir, do not shame me more: I know your anger,
And lesse then death, I looke not for.
Ar.
You shall be my charge sir, it seemes you want foes, anger,
When you would make your friends your Enemies:
A running bloud ye have, but I shall cure ye.
Bur.
Good sir—
Ar.
No more good Lord: beate forward Souldiers:
And you, march in the reare, you have lost your places
Ex.
Scæne 6.
Enter Duke, Olimpia, Honora, Viola.Du.
You shall not be thus sullen still, with me sister
You doe the most unnobly to be angry,
For as I have a soule, I never touch'd her,
I never yet knew one unchast thought in her:
I must confesse, I lov'd her: as who would not?
I must confesse I doated on her strangely,
I offer'd all, yet so strong was her honour,
So fortifi'd as faire, no hope could reach her,
And whilst the world beheld this, and confirmd it,
Why would you be so jealous?
Ol.
Good sir pardon me,
I feele sufficiently my follies pennance,
And am asham'd, that shame a thousand sorrowes
Feed on continually, would I had never seen her,
Or with a clearer judgement look'd upon her,
She was too good for me, so heavenly good sir,
Nothing but heaven can love that soule sufficiently,
Enter Burris.
Where I shall see her once againe.
Du.
No more teares,
If she be within the Dukedome, wee'l recover her:
Welcome Lord Burris, faire newes I hope.
Bu.
Most faire sir,
Without one drop of bloud these wars are ended,
The Souldier coold againe, indeed asham'd sir,
And all his anger ended.
Du.
Where's Lord Archas?
Bur.
Not far off sir: with him his valiant son,
Head of this fire, but now a prisoner,
And if by your sweet mercie not prevented,
I feare some fatall stroke.
Drums.
Enter Archas, Theodore, Gentlemen, Souldiers
Du.
I heare the drums beate,
Welcome, my worthy friend.
Ar.
Stand where ye are sir,
Even as you love your Country, move not forward,
Nor plead for peace, till I have done a justice,
A justice on this villaine; none of mine now,
A justice on this Rebell.
Hon.
O my Brother.
Ar.
This fatall firebrand—
Du.
Forget not old man,
He is thy son of thine owne bloud.
Ar.
In these veines
No treacherie e're harbour'd yet, no mutinie,
I ne're gave life to lewd and headstrong Rebels.
Du.
'Tis his first fault.
Ar.
Not of a thousand sir,
Or were it so, it is a fault so mightie,
So strong against the nature of all mercie,
His mother were she living, would not weep for him,
He dare not say he would live.
The.
I must not sir,
Whilst you say 'tis not fit: your Graces mercy
Not to my life appli'd, but to my fault sir,
The worlds forgivenesse next, last, on my knees sir,
I humbly beg,
Do not take from me yet the name of father,
Strike me a thousand blowes, but let me dye yours.
Ar.
He moves my heart: I must be suddaine with him,
I shall grow faint else, in my execution;
Come, come sir, you have seen death; now meet him bravely.
Du.
Hold, hold I say, a little hold, consider
Thou hast no more sons Archas to inherit thee.
Ar.
Yes sir, I have another, and a nobler:
No treason shall inherit me: young Archas
A boy, as sweet as young, my brother breeds him,
My noble brother Briskie, breeds him nobly,
Him let your favour find: give him your honour.
Enter Putskie (alias Briskie) and Alinda (alias Archas.
Pu.
Thou hast no child left Archas none to inherit thee
If thou strikst that stroke now: behold young Archas;
Behold thy brother here, thou bloudy brother,
As bloudy to this sacrifice as thou art:
Heave up thy sword, and mine's heav'd up: strike Archas,
And I'le strike too, as suddenly, as deadly:
Have mercy, and I'le have mercy: the Duke gives it,
Looke upon all these, how they weep it from thee,
Choose quickly, and begin.
Du.
On your obedience,
On your allegance save him.
Ar.
Take him to ye,
Soul. shout.
And sirha, be an honest man, ye have reason:
I thanke ye worthy Brother; welcome child,
Mine owne sweet child.
Du.
Why was this boy concealed thus?
Put.
Your graces pardon:
Fearing the vow you made against my brother
And that your anger would not only light
On him, but find out all his familie,
This young boy, to preserve from after danger,
Like a young wench, hether I brought; my selfe
In the habit of an ordinarie Captaine
Disguis'd, got entertainement, and serv'd here
That I might still be ready to all fortunes:
The boy your Grace tooke, nobly entertain'd him,
But thought a Girle, Alinda, Madam.
Ol.
Stand away,
And let me looke upon him.
Du.
My young Mistris?
This is a strange metamorphosis, Alinda?
Al.
Your graces humble servant.
Du.
Come hether sister:
I dare yet scarce beleeve mine eyes? how they view one another?
Dost thou not love this boy wel?
Ol.
I should lye else,
Trust me, extreamely lye sir.
50
Didst thou never wish Olimpia,
It might be thus?
Ol.
A thousand times.
Du.
Here take him:
Nay, do not blush: I do not jest; kisse sweetly:
Boy, ve kisse faintly boy; heaven give ye comfort;
Teach him, he'l quickly learne: there's two hearts eas'd now.
Ar.
You do me too much honour sir.
Du.
No Archas,
But all I can, I will; can you love me? speake truly.
Hon.
Yes sir, dearly.
Du.
Come hether Viola, can you love this man?
Vio.
I'le do the best I can sir.
Du.
Seale it Burris:
Wee'l all to Church together instantly:
And then a vie for boyes; stay, bring Boroskie.
Enter Boroskie
I had almost forgot that lumpe of mischiefe.
There Archas, take the enemie to honour,
The knave to worth: do with him what thou wilt.
Ar.
Then to my sword againe; you to your prayers;
Wash off your villanies, you feele the burthen.
Bor.
Forgive me ere I die, most honest Archas;
'Tis too much honour that I perish thus;
O strike my faults to kill them, that no memorie,
No blacke and blasted infamy heareafter—
Ar.
Come, are ye ready?
Bor.
Yes.
Ar.
And truly penitent, to make your way straight?
Bor.
Thus I wash off my sins.
Ar.
Stand up, and live then,
And live an honest man; I scorne mens ruin's:
Take him againe, Sir, trie him: and beleeve
This thing wil be a perfect man.
Du.
I take him.
Bor.
And when I faile those hopes, heavens hopes faile me.
Du.
You are old: no more wars Father:
Theodore take you the charge, be Generall.
The.
All good blesse ye.
Du.
And my good father, you dwell in my bosome,
From you rise all my good thoughts: when I would think
And examine time for one that's fairely noble,
And the same man through all the straights of vertue,
Upon this silver booke I'le looke, and read him.
Now forward merrily to Hymens rights,
To joyes, and revels, sports, and he that can
Most honour Archas, is the noblest man.
Exeunt.
| The Loyal Svbiect | |