 | The Humorous Lieutenant |  |
Scæne. 2.
Drum within, Allarme, Enter Demetrius and Leontius.Dem.
I will not see 'em fall thus, give me way sir,
I shall forget you love me else.
Leo.
VVill ye lose all?
For me to be forgotten, to be hated,
Nay never to have been a man, is nothing,
So you, and those we have preserv'd from slaughter
Come safely off.
Dem.
I have lost my selfe.
Leo.
You are cozn'd.
Dem.
And am most miserable.
Leo.
There's no man so, but he that makes himself so.
Dem.
I will goe on.
Leo.
You must not: I shall tell you then,
And tell you true, that man's unfit to governe,
That cannot guide himselfe: you lead an Army?
That have not so much manly suff'rance left yee,
To beare a losse?
Dem.
Charge but once more Leontius,
My friends and my companions are engag'd all.
Leo.
Nay give 'em lost, I saw 'em off their horses,
And the enemy master of their Armes; nor could then,
The policie, nor strength of man redeem 'em.
Dem.
And shall I know this, and stand fooling?
Leo.
By my dead fathers soule you stir not, sir,
Or if you doe, you make your way through me first.
Dem.
Thou art a Coward.
Leo.
To prevent a Madman.
None but your fathers Son, durst call me so,
'Death if he did—Must I be scandall'd by ye,
That hedg'd in all the helps I had to save ye?
That, where there was a valiant weapon stirring,
Both search'd it out, and singl'd it, unedg'd it,
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Goe, get ye up, and tell 'em ye are the Kings Sonne;
Hang all your Ladies favours on your Crest,
And let them fight their shares; spurre to destruction,
You cannot misse the way: be bravely desperate,
And your young friends before ye, that lost this battell,
Your honourable friends, that knew no order,
Cry out, Antigonus, the old Antigonus,
The wise and fortunate Antigonus,
The great, the valiant, and the fear'd Antigenus,
Has sent a desperate sonne, without discretion
To bury in an houre his age of honor.
Dem.
I am ashamed.
Leo.
'Tis ten to one, I die with ye:
The coward will not long be after ye;
I scorne to say I saw you fall, sigh for ye,
And tell a whining tale, some ten yeares after
To boyes and girles in an old chimney corner,
Of what a Prince we had, how bravely spirited;
How young and faire he fell: wee'l all goe with ye,
And ye shall see us all, like sacrifices
In our best trim, fill up the mouth of ruine,
Will this faith satisfie your folly? can this show ye,
Tis not to die we feare, but to die poorely,
To fall, forgotten, in a multitude?
If you will needs tempt fortune now she has held ye,
Held ye from sinking up.
Dem.
Pray doe not kill me,
These words pierce deeper then the wounds I suffer,
The smarting wounds of losse.
Leo.
Ye are too tender;
Fortune has houres of losse, and houres of honor,
And the most valiant feele them both: take comfort,
The next is ours, I have a soule descries it:
The angry bull never goes backe for breath,
But when he meanes to arme his fury double.
Let this day set but not the memorie,
And we shall find a time: How now Lieutenant?
Enter Lieutenant.
Lieu.
I know not: I am mall'd: we are bravely beaten,
All our young gallants lost.
Leo.
Thou art hurt.
Lieu.
I am pepper'd,
I was i'th' midst of all: and bang'd of all hands:
They made an anvile of my head, it rings yet;
Never so thresh'd: do you call this fame? I have fam'd it;
I have got immortall fame, but I'le no more on't;
I'le no such scratching Saint to serve hereafter;
'O my conscience I was kill'd above twenty times,
And yet I know not what a Devil's in't,
I crawled away, and lived againe still; I am hurt plaguily,
But now I have nothing neere so much paine Colonell,
They have sliced me for that maladie.
Dem.
All the young men lost?
Lie.
I am glad you are here: but they are all i'th' pound sir,
They'l never ride o're other mens corne againe, I take it,
Such frisking, and such flaunting with their feathers,
And such careering with their mistres favours;
And here must he be pricking out for honor,
And there got he a knocke, and downe goes pilgarlike,
Commends his soule to his she-saint, and exit.
Another spurres in there, cryes make roome villaines,
I am a Lord, scarce spoken, but with reverence
A rascall takes him o're the face, and fels him;
There lyes the Lord, the Lord be with him.
Leo.
Now sir,
Doe you find this truth?
Leo.
I would not.
Lieu.
Pox upon it,
They have such tender bodies too; such Cullisses,
That one good hansome blow breaks 'em a pieces.
Leo.
How stands the Enemie?
Lieu.
Even coole enough too:
For to say truth he has bin shrewdly heated,
The gentleman no doubt will fall to his jewlips.
Leo.
He marches not i'th' taile on's.
Lieu.
No, plague take him,
Hee'l kisse our tailes as soone; he lookes upon us,
As if he would say, if ye will turne againe, friends,
We will belabor you a little better,
And beat a little more care into your coxcombs.
Now shall we have damnable Ballads out against us,
Most wicked madrigals: and ten to one Colonell,
Sung to such lowsie, lamentable tunes.
Leo.
Thou art merrie,
How e're the game goes: good sir be not troubled,
A better day will draw this backe againe.
Pray goe, and cheere those left, and lead 'em off,
They are hot, and wearie.
Dem.
I'le doe any thing.
Leo.
Lieutenant, send one presentlie away
To'th' King, and let him know our state: and harke ye,
Be sure the messenger advise his Majestie
To comfort up the Prince: hee's full of sadnes.
Lieu.
When shall I get a Surgeon? this hot weather,
Unlesse I be well pepper'd, I shall stinke Colonel.
Leo.
Goe, I'le prepare thee one.
Lieu.
If ye catch me then,
Fighting againe, I'le eat hay with a horse.
Ex.
| The Humorous Lieutenant | |