 | The Humorous Lieutenant |  |
Actus primus.
Scæna prima
Enter 2. Ushers, and Groomes with perfumes.1. Usher.
Round, round, perfume it round, quick, loook ye
Diligently the state be right, are these the richest
Cushions? Fie, fie, who waits i'th' wardrobe?
2 Ush.
But pray tell me, do you thinke for certaine
These Ambassadours shall have this morning audience?
1. Ush.
They shall have it: Lord that you live at Court
And understand not? I tell you they must have it.
2 Ush.
Upon what necessity?
1 Ush.
Still you are of the tricke of Court, sell your place
Enter Ladies and Gentlemen.
And sow your grounds, you are not for this tillage.
Madams, the best way is the upper lodgings,
There you may see at ease.
Ladies.
We thanke you sir.
Ex. Ladies, Gent.
1 Ush.
Would you have al these slighted? who should report then
The Embassadors were hansome men? his beard
A neat one? the fire of his eyes quicker then lightning,
And when it breaks, as blasting? his legs, though litle ones,
Yet movers of a masse of understanding?
Who shall commend their cloaths: who shall take notice
Of the most wise behaviour of their feathers?
Ye live a raw man here.
2 Ush.
I thinke I doe so.
Enter 2. Citizens, and Wives.
1 Ush.
Why, whether would you all presse?
1 Cit.
Good Master Usher.
2 Cit.
My wife, and some few of my honest neighbours, here.
1 Ush.
Prethee begon thou and thy honest neighbours,
Thou lookst like an asse, why, whether would you fish face
2 Cit.
If I might have
But the honour to see you at my poore house sir,
A Capon bridled, and sadled I'le assure your worship,
A shoulder of mutton, and a pottle of wine sir;
I know your brother, he was as like ye,
And shot the best at buts—
1 Ush.
A—upon thee.
2 Cit.
Some musick I'le assure you too,
My toy sir, can play o'th' virginals.
1 Ush.
Prethee good toy,
Take away thy shoulder of mutton, it is flie blowne,
And shoulder take thy flap along, here's no place for ye;
Nay then you had best be knock'd.
Ex. Cit.
Enter Celia.
Cel.
I wou'd faine see him
The glory of this place, makes me remember,
But dye those thoughts, dye all but my desires,
Even those to death are sicke too; he's not here,
Nor how my eyes may guide me—
1 Ush.
What's your businesse?
Who keeps the outward doore there? here's fine shufling,
You wastcoater you must go backe.
Cel.
There is not,
There cannot be, sixe dayes and never see me?
There must not be desire; sir do you thinke
That if you had a Mistris—
1 Ush.
Death, she is mad.
Cel.
And were your selfe an honest man? it cannot—
1 Ush.
What a devill hast thou to do with me or my honesty?
Will you be jogging, good nimble tongue,
My fellow doore keeper.
2 Ush.
Prethee let her alone.
1 Ush.
The King is comming,
And shall we have an agent from the suburbs
Come to crave audience too?
Cel.
Before I thought ye
To have a little breeding, some tang of Gentry;
But now I take ye plainly,
Without the helpe of any perspective,
For that ye cannot alter.
1 Ush.
What's that?
Cel.
An asse sir, you bray as like one,
And by my troth, me thinkes as ye stand now,
Considering who to kick next, you appeare to me
Just with that kind of gravity, and wisdome;
Your place may beare the name of Gentleman,
But if ever any of that butter stick to your bread—
2 Ush.
You must be modester.
Cel.
Let him use me nobler,
And weare good cloaths to do good offices;
They hang upon a fellow of his vertue,
As though they hung on Gibbets.
2. Ush.
A perilous wench.
1 Ush.
Thrust her into a corner, I'le no more on her.
2 Ush.
You have enough, goe pretty maid, stand close,
And use that little tongue, with a little more temper.
Cel.
I thanke ye sir.
2 Ush.
When the shews are past,
I'le have ye into the cellar, there wee'l dine
A very pretty wench, a witty rogue,
And there wee'l be as merry, can ye be merry?
Cel.
O very merry.
2 Ush.
Only our selves; this churlish fellow shall not know.
Cel.
By no meanes.
2 Ush.
And can you love a little?
Cel.
Love exceedingly:
I have cause to love you deare sir.
2 Ush.
Then I'le carry ye,
And shew you all the pictures, and the hangings,
The lodgings, gardens, and the walkes: and then (sweet)
You shall tell me where you lye.
Cel.
Yes marry will I.
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And't shall go hard but I'le send ye a venison pastie,
And bring a bottle of wine along.
1. Ush.
Make roome there.
2. Ush.
Room there afore, stand close, the train is coming
Enter King, Antigonous, Tymon, Charinthus, Menippus.
Cel.
Have I yet left a beauty to Catch fooles?
Yet, yet, I see him not, O what a miserie
Is love, expected long, deluded longer!
Ant.
Conduct in the Embassadors.
1. Ush.
Make roome there.
Ant.
They shall not wait long answer—
Flourish
Cel.
Yet he comes not.
Ent. 3 Embassadors.
Why are eyes set on these, and multitudes
Follow to make these wonders? O good gods!
What would these looke like if my love were here?
But I am fond, forgetfull.
Ant.
Now your grievance,
Speake short, and have as short dispatch.
1. Em.
Then thus sir:
In all our Royall Masters names, We tell you
Ye have done injustice, broke the bonds of concord,
And from their equall shares, from Alexander
Parted, and so possess'd, not like a brother,
But as an open Enemie, Ye have hedged in
Whole Provinces, man'd and maintain'd these injuries;
And daily with your sword (though they still honor ye)
Make bloudy roades, take Townes, and ruine Castles,
And still their sufferance feeles the waight.
2. Em.
Think of that love great sir, that honor'd friendship
Your selfe hold with our Masters, thinke of that strength
When you were all one body, all one minde;
When all your swords strook one way, when your angers,
Like so many brother billowes rose together,
And curling up your foaming crests, defied
Even mighty Kings, and in their fals, entomb'd 'em;
O thinke of these; and you that have been Conquerours,
That ever led your fortunes open ey'd,
Chain'd fast by confidence; you that fame courted,
Now ye want enemies and men to match ye;
Let not your owne swords seeke your ends to shame ye.
Enter Demetrius with a Javelin, and Gentlemen.
3 Emb.
Choose which you will, or peace or war,
We come prepar'd for either.
1 Ush.
Roome for the Prince there.
Cel.
was it the Prince they said? how my heart trembl'd!
'Tis he indeed; what a sweet noble fiercenesse
Dwels in his eyes? young Meleager like,
When he returnd from slaughter of the Boare,
Crown'd with the loves and honours of the people,
With all the gallant youth of Greece, he lookes now,
Who could deny him love?
Dem.
Haile Royall Father.
Ant.
Ye are welcome from your sport sir, do you see this,
You that bring thunders in your mouthes, and earthquakes gent.
To shake and totter my designes? can you imagine
(You men of poore and common apprehensions)
Whilst I admit this man, my son, this nature
That in one looke carries more fire, and fiercenesse,
Then all your masters in their lives: dare I admit him,
Admit him thus, even to my side, My bosome,
When he is fit to rule, when all men cry him,
And all hopes hang about his head; thus place him,
His weapon hatcht in bloud, all these attending
When he shall make their fortunes, all as sudden
In any expedition he shall point 'em,
As arrowes from a Tartars bow, and speeding,
Dare I do this, and feare an enemy?
Feare your great Master? yours? or yours?
Dem.
O Hercules,
Who saies you do sir? Is there any thing
In these mens faces, or their Masters actions,
Able to worke such wonders?
Cel.
Now 'a speakes:
O I could dwell upon that tongue for ever.
Dem.
You call 'em Kings, they never wore those roialties
Nor in the progresse of their lives ariv'd yet
At any thought of King: emperiall dignities,
And powerfull god-like actions, fit for Princes
They can no more put on, and make 'em sit right,
Then I can with this mortall hand hold heaven:
Poore petty men, nor have I yet forgot
The chiefest honours time, and merit gave 'em:
Lysimachus your Master, at his best,
His highest, and his hopefull'st dignities
Was but grand-master of the Elephants;
Seleucus of the Treasure; and for Ptolomy,
A thing not thought on then, scarce heard of yet,
Some master of amunition: and must these men—
Cel.
What a brave confidence flowes from his spirit?
O sweet young man!
Dem.
Must these hold pace with us,
And on the same field hang their memories?
Must these examine what the wils of Kings are?
Prescribe to their designes, and chaine their actions
To their restraints? be freinds, and foes when they please?
Send out their thunders, and their menaces,
As if the fate of mortall thinge were theirs?
Go home good men, and tell your masters from us,
We do 'em too much honour to force from 'em
Their barren countries, ruine their vast Cities,
And tell 'em out of love, we meane to leave 'em
(Since they will needs be Kings) no more to tread on,
Then they have able wits, and powers to manage,
And so we shall befriend 'em: ha? what does she there?
Emb.
This is your answer King.
Ant.
'Tis like to prove so.
Dem.
Fie sweet, what make you here?
Cel.
Pray ye do not chide me.
Dem.
You do your selfe much wrong, and me.
Cel.
Pray you pardon me,
I feele my fault, which only was committed
Through my deare love to you: I have not seen ye,
And how can I live then? I have not spoke to ye—
Dem.
I know this weeke ye have not; I will redeem all.
You are so tender now: thinke where you are, sweet.
Cel.
What other light have I left?
Dem.
Prethee Celia,
Indeed, I'le see ye presently.
Cel.
I have done sir:
You will not misse?
Dem.
By this, and this, I will not.
Cel.
'Tis in your will: and I must be obedient.
Dem.
No more of these assemblies.
Cel.
I am commanded.
1 Ush.
Roome for the Lady there: Madam, my service—
1 Gent.
My Coach and't please you Lady.
2 Ush.
Roome before there.
2 Gent.
The honour Madam, but to waite upon you—
Cel.
My servants, and my state:
Lord, how they flocke now?
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How these flies play i'th Sunshine? pray ye no services,
Or if ye needs must play the hobby horses,
Seek out some beautie that affects 'em: farewell,
Nay pray ye spare: Gentlemen I am old enough
To go alone at these yeares, without crutches.
Exit.
2. Ush.
Wel, I could curse now: but that will not help me,
I made as sure account of this wench now, immediately,
Do but consider how the devill has crost me,
Meate for my Master she cries, well—
3 Em.
Once more sir,
We aske your resolutions: peace or war yet?
Dem.
War, war, my noble father.
1 Em.
Thus I fling it:
And faire ey'd peace, farewell.
Ant.
You have your answer;
Conduct out the Embassadours, and give 'em convoies.
Dem.
Tell your high hearted Masters, they shall not seek us,
Nor coole i'th' field in expectation of us,
Wee'l ease your men those marches: In their strengths,
And full abilities of mind and courage,
Wee'l ffnd 'em out, and at their best trim buckle with 'em
3 Em.
You will find so hot a Souldiers welcome sir,
Your favor shall not freeze,
2 Em.
A forward Gentleman,
Pitty the wars should bruise such hopes—
Ant.
Conduct 'em—
Ex. Em.
Now, For this preparation: where's Leontius?
Call him in presently: for I meane in person Gentlemen
My selfe, with my old fortune—
Dem.
Royall sir:
Thus low I beg this honour: fame already
Hath every where rais'd trophies to your glory,
And conquest now grown old, and weake with following
The weary marches, and the bloudy shockes
You daily set her in: 'tis now scarce honour
Fo you that never knew to fight, but conquer,
To sparkle such poore people: the roiall Eagle
When she hath tri'd her young ones gainst the Sun,
And found 'em right; next teacheth 'em to prey,
How to command on wing, and check below her
Even birds of noble plume; I am your owne sir,
You have found my spirit, trie it now, and teach it,
To stoop whole kingdomes: leave a little for me;
Let not your glory be so greedy sir,
To eate up all my hopes; you gave me life,
If to that life you adde not what's more lasting,
A noble name, for man you have made a shadow:
Blesse me this day: bid me go on, and lead,
Bid me go on, no lesse fear'd, then Antigonus,
And to my maiden sword, tye fast your fortune;
I know 'twill fight it selfe then: deare sir honour me:
Never faire virgin long'd so.
Ant.
Rise, and command then,
And be as fortunate as I expect ye:
I love that noble will; your young companions
Bred up and foster'd with ye, I hope Demetrius,
Enter Leon.
You will make souldiers too: they must not leave ye.
2 Gent.
Never till life leave us sir.
Ant.
O Leontius,
Here's worke for you in hand.
Leon.
I am ev'n right glad sir.
For by my troath, I am now grown old with idlenesse;
I heare we shall abroad sir.
Ant.
Yes, and presently,
But who thinkes you commands now?
Leon.
Who commands sir?
Methinkes mine eye should guide me: can there be
(If you your selfe will spare him so much honour)
Any found out to lead before your armies,
So full of faith, and fire as brave Demetrius?
King Philips Son, at his yeares was an old Souldier,
'Tis time his fortune be a wing, high time sir,
So many idle houres, as here he loyters,
So many ever-living names he loses,
I hope 'tis he.
Ant.
'Tis he indeed, and nobly
He shall set forward: draw you all those Garrisons
Upon the frontiers as you passe: to those
Joyne these in pay at home, our ancient souldiers,
And as you go presse all the Provinces.
Leo.
We shall not need;
Beleeve this hopefull Gentleman
Can want no swords, nor honest hearts to follow him,
We shall be full, no feare sir.
Ant.
You Leontius,
Because you are an old, and faithfull servant,
And know the wars, with all his vantages,
Be neare to his instructions, least his youth
Lose valours best companion, staid discretion,
Shew where to lead, to lodge, to charge with safetie;
In execution not to breake, nor scatter,
But with a provident anger, follow nobly:
Not covetous of bloud, and death, but honour,
Be ever neare his watches; cheere his labours,
And where his hope stands faire, provoke his valour;
Love him, and thinke it no dishonour (my Demetrius)
To weare this Jewell neare thee; he is a tri'd one,
And one that even in spight of time, that sunke him,
And frosted up his strength, will yet stand by thee.
And with the proudest of thine enemies
Exchange for bloud, and bravely: take his counsell.
Leo.
Your grace hath made me young again, and wanton.
Ant.
She must be known and suddenly; when you have done
Come in and take your leave sir, and some few
Prayers along.
Ant.
Do ye know her?
Gent., Char.
No, beleeve sir.
Ant.
Did you observe her Tymon?
Tym.
I look'd on her,
But what she is—
Ant.
I must have that found.
Tym.
Well sir.
Dem.
I know my duty,
Exit. Ant.
You shall be halfe my father.
Leo.
All your Servant:
Come Gentlemen, you are resolv'd I am sure
To see these wars.
1 Gent.
We dare not leave his fortunes,
Though most assured death hung round about us.
Leo.
That bargaines yet to make;
Be not too hasty, when ye face the Enemie,
Nor too ambitious to get honour instantly,
But charge within your bounds, and keepe close bodies,
And you shall see what sport wee'l make these mad-caps;
You shall have game enough, I warrant ye,
Every mans Cock shall fight.
Dem.
I must go see sir:
Brave sir, as soone as I have taken leave,
I'le meet you in the Parck;
Draw the men thether,
Waite you upon Leontius.
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Wee'l attend sir.
Lie.
But I beseech your Grace, with speed; the sooner
We are i'th' field—
Dem.
You could not please me better.
Exit.
Leo.
You never saw the wars yet?
Gent.
Not yet Collonell.
Leo.
These foolish Mistrisses do so hang about ye,
So whimper, and so hug, I know it Gentlemen,
And so intice ye, now ye are i'th' bud;
And that sweet tilting war, with eies and kisses,
Th'allarums of soft vowes, and sighes, and fiddle faddles,
Spoiles all our trade: You must forget these knick knacks,
A woman at some time of yeare, I grant ye
She is necessarie; but make no busines of her;
How now Lieutenant?
Ent. Lieutenant.
Lieu.
Oh sir, as ill as ever;
We shall have wars they say; they are mustring yonder:
Would we were at it once: fie, how it plagues me.
Le.
Here's one has served now under Captaine Cupid,
And crackt a Pike in's youth: you see whats come on't.
Lieu.
No, my disease will never prove so honourable.
Le.
Why sure, thou hast the best pox.
Lieu.
If I have 'em,
I am sure I got 'em in the best companie;
They are pox of thirty Coates.
Le.
Thou hast me wed 'em finely:
Here's a strange fellow now, and a brave fellow,
If we may say so of a pockie fellow,
(Which I beleeve we may) this poore Lieutenant;
Whether he have the scratches, or the scabs,
Or what a devill it be, I'le say this for him,
There fights no braver souldier under Sun, gentlemen;
Show him an Enemie, his paine's forgot straight;
And where other men, by beds and bathes have ease,
And easie rules of phisick, set him in a danger,
A danger, thats a fearfull one indeed,
Ye rock him, and he will so play about ye,
Let it be ten to one, he ne're comes off againe;
Ye have his heart: and then he works it bravely,
And throughly bravely: not a pang remembred:
I have seen him do such things, beliefe would shrinke at.
Gent.
'Tis strange he should do all this, and diseas'd so.
Leo.
I am sure 'tis true: Lieutenant, canst thou drink wel?
Lieu.
Would I were drunk, dog-drunk, I might not feele this.
Gent.
I would take Phisicke.
Lieu.
But I would know my disease first.
Leon.
Why? it may be the Collique: canst thou blow backward?
Lieu.
There's never a bag-pipe in the kingdom better.
Gent.
Is't not a pluresie?
Lieu.
'Tis any thing
That has the devill, and death in't: will ye march Gentlemen?
The Prince has taken leave.
Leo.
How know ye that?
Lie.
I saw him leave the Court, dispatch his followers,
And met him after in a bye street: I thinke
He has some wench, or such a toy, to lick over
Before he goe: would I had such another
To draw this foolish paine downe.
Leo.
Let's away Gentlemen,
For sure the Prince will stay on us.
Gent.
Wee'l attend sir.
Exeunt.
Scæne 2.
Enter Demetrius, and Celia.Cel.
Must ye needs go?
Dem.
Or stay with all dishonour.
Cel.
Are there not men enough to fight?
Dem.
Fie Celia,
This ill becomes the noble love you beare me;
Would you have your love a coward?
Cel.
No; beleeve sir,
I would have him fight, but not so far off from me.
Dem.
Wouldst have it thus? or thus?
Cel.
If that be fighting—
Dem.
Ye wanton foole: when I come home againe
I'le fight with thee, at thine weapon Celia,
And conquer thee too.
Cel.
That you have done already,
You need no other Armes to me, but these sir;
But will you fight your selfe sir?
Dem.
Thus deep in bloud wench,
And through the thickest rankes of Pikes.
Cel.
Spur bravely,
Your firie Courser, beat the troopes before ye,
And crambe the mouth of death with executions.
Dem.
I would do more then these: But prethee tell me,
Tell me my faire, where got'st thou this male spirit?
I wonder at thy mind.
Cel.
Were I man then,
You would wonder more.
Dem.
Sure thou wouldst prove a Souldier,
And some great Leader.
Cel.
Sure I should do somewhat;
And the first thing I did, I should grow envious,
Extreamely envious of your youth, and honour.
Dem.
And fight against me?
Cel.
Ten to one, I should do it.
Dem.
Thou wouldst not hurt me?
Cel.
In this mind I am in,
I thinke I should be hardly brought to strike ye,
Unlesse 'twere thus; but in my mans mind—
Dem.
What?
Cel.
I should be friends with ye too,
Now I thinke better.
Dem.
Ye are a tall Souldier:
Here, take these, and these;
This gold to furnish ye, and keepe this bracelet;
Why do you weep now?
You a masculine spirit?
Cel.
No, I confesse I am a foole, a woman:
And ever when I part with you—
Dem.
You shall not,
These teares are like prodigious signes, my sweet one,
I shall come backe, loden with fame, to honour thee.
Cel.
I hope you shall:
But then my deare Demetrius,
When you stand Conquerour, and at your mercy
All people bow, and all things waite your sentence;
Say then your eye (surveying all your conquest)
Finds out a beautie, even in sorrow excellent,
A constant face, that in the midst of ruine
With a forc'd smile, both scornes at fate, and fortune:
Say you find such a one, so nobly fortified.
And in her figure, all the sweets of nature?
Dem.
Prethee,
No more of this, I cannot find her.
Cel.
That shews as far beyond my wither'd beauty;
And will run mad, to love ye too.
Dem.
Do you feare me,
And do you thinke, besides this face, this beauty,
This heart, where all my hopes are lock'd—
125
I dare not:
No sure, I think ye honest; wondrous honest.
Pray doe not frowne, Ile swear ye are.
Dem.
Ye may choose.
Cel.
But how long will ye be away?
Dem.
I know not.
Cel.
I know you are angry now: pray look upon me:
Ile aske no more such questions.
Dem.
The Drums beat,
I can no longer stay.
Cel.
They doe but call yet:
How faine you would leave my company.
Dem.
I wou'd not,
Unlesse a greater power then love commanded,
Commands my life, mine honour.
Cel.
But a little.
Dem.
Prethee farewell, and be not doubtfull of me.
Cel.
I would not have ye hurt: and ye are so ventrous—
But good sweet Prince preserve your selfe, fight nobly,
But do not thrust this body, 'tis not yours now,
'Tis mine, 'tis onely mine: doe not seek wounds, Sir,
For every drop of bloud you bleed—
Dem.
I will Celia,
I will be carefull.
Cel.
My heart, that loves ye deerely.
Dem.
Prethee no more, we must part:
Harke, they march now.
Drums a March.
Cel.
Pox on these bawling Drums: I am sure you'll kisse me,
But one kisse? what a parting's this?
Dem.
Here take me,
And doe what thou wilt with me, smother me;
But still remember, if your fooling with me,
Make me forget the trust—
Cel.
I have done: farewell sir,
Never look back, you shall not stay, not a minute.
Dem.
I must have one farewell more.
Cel.
No, the Drums beat;
I dare not slack your honour; not a hand more,
Onely this look; the gods preserve, and save ye.
| The Humorous Lieutenant | |