 | The Broken Heart |  |
Actus primus
Scæna prima.
Enter Crotolon and Orgilus.Crot.
Dally not further, I will know the reason
That speeds thee to this iourney.
Org.
Reason? good Sir,
I can yeeld many.
Crot.
Giue me one, a good one;
Such I expect, and e're we part must haue:
Athens? pray why to Athens? you intend not
To kicke against the world, turne Cynicke, Stoicke,
Or read the Logicke Lecture, or become
An Arcepagste; and Iudge in causes
Touching the Common wealth? for as I take it,
The budding of your chin cannot prognosticate
So grave an honour.
Org.
All this I acknowledge.
Crot.
You doe: then (Son) if books and loue of knowledge
Enflame you to this trauell, here in Sparta
You may as freely study.
Org.
'Tis not that Sir.
Crot.
Not, that Sir? As a father I command thee
To acquaint me with the truth.
Org.
Thus I obey 'ee:
Fury, and Rage had brauch't in blood, and sometimes
With death to such confederates, as sided
With now dead Thrasus, and
Our present King Annilas reconcil'd
Your eager swords, and Seal'd a gentle peace:
Friends you profest your selues, which to confirme,
A resolution for a lasting league
Betwixt your Families was entertain'd,
By ioyning in a Hyminean bond,
Me, and the faire Penthea, onely daughter
To Thrasus.
Crot.
What of this?
Org.
Much, much (deere sir)
A freedome of conuerse, an enterchange
Of holy, and chast loue, so fixt our soules
In a firme grouth of vnion, that no Time
Can eat into the pledge: we had enioy'd
The sweets our vowes expected, had not cruelty
Preuented all those triumphs we prepar'd for,
By Thrasus his vntimely death.
Crot.
Most certaine.
Org.
From this time sprouted vp that poysonous stalke
Of Aconite, whose ripened fruit hath ravisht
All health, all comfort of a happy life:
For Ithocles her brother, proud of youth,
And prouder in his power, nourisht closely
The memory of former discontents.
To glory in reuenge, by cunning partly,
Partly by threats, a wooes at once, and forces
His virtuous sister to admit a marriage
With Basanes, a Noble man, in honour
And riches, I confesse beyond my fortunes.
Crot.
All this is no found reason to importune
My leave for thy departure.
Org.
Now it followes,
Beauteous Penthea wedded to this torture
By an insulting brother, being secretly
Compeld to yeeld her virgine freedome vp
To him, who neuer can vsurpe her heart
Before contracted mine, is now so yoak'd
Affliction, that he sauors not humanity—
Whose sorrow melts not into more than pitty,
In hearing but her name.
Crot.
As how pray?
Org.
Bassanes
The man that calls her wife; considers truly
What Heaven of perfections he is Lord of,
By thinking faire Penthea his: This thought
Begets a kinde of Monster-Loue, which Loue
Is nurse vnto a feare so strong, and seruile,
As brands all dotage with a Iealousie.
All eyes who gaze upon that shrine of beauty,
He doth resolue, doe homage to the miracle;
Some one, he is assur'd, may now or then
(If opportunity but sort) preuaile:
So much out of a selfe-vnworthinesse
His feares transport him, not that he findes cause
In her obedience, but his owne distrust.
Crot.
You spin out your discourse.
Org.
My griefs are violent;
For knowing how the Maid was heretofore
Courted by me, his iealousies grow wild
That I should steale againe into her fauours,
And vndermine her vertues: which the gods
Know I nor dare, nor dreame of: hence, from hence,
I vndertake a voluntary exile.
First, by my absence to take off the eares
Of Iealous Bassanes, but chiefly (Sir)
To free Penthea from a hell on earth:
Lastly, to lose the memory of something,
Her presence makes to liue in me afresh.
Crot.
Enough (my Orgilus) enough: To Athens
I giue a full consent:—Alas good Lady—
Wee shall heare from thee often?
Org.
Often.
Crot.
See
Thy Sister comes to giue a farewell.
Enter Euphrania.
Euphr.
Brother.
Org.
Euphrania, thus vpon thy cheekes I print
A brothers kisse, more carefull of thine honour,
Before we part, in presence of our father,
I must preferre a suit to 'ee.
Euphr.
You may stile it,
My brother, a command.
Org.
That you will promise
To passe neuer to any man, how euer worthy,
Your faith, till with our Fathers leave
I giue a free consent.
Crot.
An easie motion,
I'le promise for her, Orgilus.
Org.
Your pardon;
Euphrania's oath must yeeld me satisfaction.
Euphr.
By Vesta's sacred fires I sweare.
Crot.
And I
By great Apollo's beames ioyne in the vow;
Not without thy allowance, to bestow her
On any liuing.
Org.
Deere Euphrania
Mistake me not; farre, farre 'tis from my thought,
As farre from any wish of mine, to hinder
Preferment to an honourable bed,
Or fitting Fortune: thou art young, and handsome;
And 'twere iniustice; more, a tyrannie
Not to aduance thy merit. Trust me Sister,
It shall be my first care to see thee match'd
As may become thy choyce, and our contents:
I haue your oath.
Euphr.
You haue: but meane you brother
To leaue us as you say?
Crot.
I, I, Euphrania:
He has iust grounds direct him: I will proue
A father and a brother to thee.
Euphr,
Heauen
Does looke into the secrets of all hearts:
Gods you haue mercy with 'ee, else—
Crot.
Doubt nothing
Thy brother will returne in safety to vs.
Org.
Soules sunke in sorrowes, never are without 'em;
They change fresh ayres, but beare their griefes about 'em.
Exeunt omnes.
Scæne 2.
Flourish.Enter Amyclas the King, Armostes, Prophilus, and attendants.
Amy.
The Spartane gods are gracious, our humility
Shall bend before their Altars, and perfume
See Lords, Amyclas your old King is entring
Into his youth againe. I shall shake off
This siluer badge of age, and change this snow
For haires as gay as are Apollo's lockes;
Our heart leaps in new vigour.
Armo.
May old time
Run backe to double your long life (great Sir)
Amy.
It will, it must Armostes, thy bold Nephew,
Death-brauing Ithocles, brings to our gates
Triumphs and peace vpon his conquering sword.
Laconia is a monarchy at length;
Hath in this latter warre trod vnderfoot
Messenes pride; Messene bowes her necke
To Lacedemons royalty: ô 'twas
A glorious victory, and doth deserue
More then a Chronicle; a Temple Lords,
A Temple, to the name of Ithocles.
Where didst thou leave him Prophilus?
Proph.
At Pephou
Most gracious Soueraigne; twenty of the noblest
Of the Messenians, there attend your pleasure
For such conditions as you shall propose,
In setling peace, and liberty of life.
Amy.
When comes your friend the General?
Pro.
He promis'd
To follow with all speed conuenient.
Enter Crotolon, Calantha, Chrystalla, Philema, and Euphrania.
Amy.
Our daughter:—Deere Calantha, the happy newes,
The conquest of Messene, hath already
Enrich'd thy knowledge.
Calan.
With the circumstance
And manner of the fight, related faithfully
By Prophilus himselfe; but pray Sir, tell me,
How doth the youthfull Generall demeane
His actions in these fortunes?
Proph.
Excellent Princesse,
Your owne faire eyes may soone report a truth
Vnto your judgement, with what moderation,
Calmenesse of nature, measure, bounds and limits
Of thankefulnesse, and ioy, 'a doth digest
In others, moulded of a spirit lesse cleare,
Aduance 'em to comparison with heaven.
But Ithocles.—
Cal.
Your friend.—
Proph.
He is so Madam,
In which the period of my Fate consists:
He in this Firmament of honour, stands
Like a Starre fixt, not mov'd with any thunder
Of popular applause, or sudden lightning
Of selfe-opinion: He hath seru'd his Country,
And thinks 'twas but his duty.
Crot:
You describe
A miracle of man.
Amy.
Such Crotolon,
On forfeit of a Kings word thou wilt finde him:
Harke, warning of his comming, all attend him.
Flourish.
Enter Ithocles, Hemophill, and Groneas: the rest of the Lords vshering him in.
Amy.
Returne into these armes, thy home, thy sanctuary.
Delight of Sparta, treasure of my bosome,
Mine owne, owne Ithocles.
Itho.
Your humblest subiect.
Armo.
Proud of the blood I claime an Interest in;
As brother to thy mother, I embrace thee
Right noble Nephew.
Itho.
Sir, your love's too partiall.
Crot.
Our Country speakes by me, who by thy valour,
Wisdome and seruice, shares in this great action;
Returning thee, in part of thy due merits,
A general welcom.
Itho.
You exceed in bounty.
Calan.
Chrystalla, Philena, the Chaplet.—Ithocles
Vpon the wings of Fame, the singular
And chosen fortune of an high attempt,
Is borne so past the view of common sight,
That I my selfe, with mine owne hands, haue wrought
To crowne thy Temples, this provinciall garland;
Accept, weare, and enioy it, as our gift
Deseru'd, not purchas'd.
Itho.
Y' are a royall mayd.
Amy.
Shee is in all our daughter.
Itho.
Let me blush,
What nothings I haue done, compar'd with th'honours
Heap'd on the issue of a willing minde;
In that lay mine ability, that onely.
For who is he so sluggish from his birth?
So little worthy of a name, or country,
That owes not out of gratitude for life,
A debt of Seruice, in what kinde soeuer
Safety or Counsaile of the Common-wealth
Requires for paiment?
Cal.
A speaks truth.
Itho.
Whom heauen
Is pleas'd to stile victorious, there, to such,
Applause runs madding, like the drunken priests
In Bacchus sacrifices without Reason;
Voycing the Leader on a Demi god:
When as indeed, each common souldiers blood
Drops downe as current coyne in that hard purchase,
As his, whose much more delicate condition
Hath suckt the milke of ease. Iudgement commands,
But Resolution executes: I vse not
Before this royall presence, these fit sleights,
As in contempt of such as can direct:
My speech hath other end; not to attribute
All praise to one mans fortune, which is strengthed
By many hands.—For instance, here is Prophilus
A Gentleman (I cannot flatter truth)
Of much desert; and, though in other ranke,
Both Hemophil and Groneas were not missing
To wish their Countries peace; for in a word,
All there did striue their best, and 'twas our duty.
Amy.
Courtiers turne souldiers?—we vouchsafe our hand.
Obserue your great example.
Hemo.
With all diligence.
Gron.
Obsequiously and hourely.
Amy.
Some repose
After these toyles are needfull; we must thinke on
Conditions for the Conquered; they expect 'em.
On,—come my Ithocles.
Euphr.
Sir with your fauour,
I need not a supporter.
Proph.
Fate instructs me.
Exeunt. Manent Hemophil, Groneas, Christalla et Philema.
Chry.
With me?
Phil.
Indeed I dare not stay.
Hem.
Sweet Lady
Souldiers are blunt,—your lip.
Christ.
Fye, this is rudenesse;
You went not hence such creatures.
Gron.
Spirit of valour
Is of a mounting nature.
Phil.
It appeares so:
Pray in earnest, how many men apeece
Haue you two beene the death of?
Gron.
Faith not many;
We were compos'd of mercy.
Hemo.
For our daring
You heard the Generals approbation
Before the King.
Christ.
You wish'd your Countries peace:
That shew'd your charity; where are your spoyles,
Such as the Souldier fights for?
Phil.
They are comming.
Chri.
By the next Carrier, are they not?
Gro.
Sweet Philena,
When I was in the thickest of mine enemies,
Slashing off one mans head, anothers nose,
Anothers armes and legs.
Phil.
And altogether.
Gron.
Then would I with a sigh remember thee;
And cry deare Philena, 'tis for thy sake
I doe these deeds of wonder:—dost not loue me
With all thy heart now?
Phil.
Now as heretofore.
I haue not put my loue to vse, the principall
Will hardly yeeld an Interest.
Gron.
By Mars
I'le marry thee.
Phil.
By Uulcan y'are forsworne,
Except my mind doe alter strangely.
Gron.
One word.
Chri.
You lye beyond all modesty,—forbeare me.
Hem.
I'le make thee mistresse of a City, 'tis
Mine owne by conquest.
Chri.
By petition; sue for't
In Forma pauperis:—City? Kennell. Gallants
Off with your Fathers, put on aprons, Gallants;
Learne to reele, thrum, or trim a Ladies dog,
And be good quiet soules of peace Hobgoblins.
Hem.
Christalla?
Chri.
Practise to drill hogs, in hope
To share in the Acorns. Souldiers? Corn cutters;
But not so valiant: they oft times draw blood,
Which you durst neuer doe. When you have practis'd
More wit, or more civility, wee'll ranke 'ee
I th list of men: till then, braue things at armes
Phil.
And Hemophill the hardy,—at your seruices.
Gron.
They scorne vs as they did before we went.
Hem.
Hang 'em, let vs scorne them, and be reueng'd.
Eexunt Chri. et Philema.
Gron.
Shall we?
Hem.
We will; and when we fleight them thus,
Instead of following them, they'll follow vs.
It is a womans nature.
Gron.
'Tis a scuruy one.
exeunt omnes.
Scæne 3.
Enter Tecnicus a Philosopher, and Orgilus disguised like a Scholler of his.Tecn.
Tempt not the Stars (young man) thou canst not play
With the seuerity of Fate: this change
Of habit, and disguise in outward view,
Hides not the secrets of thy soule within thee,
From their quicke-piercing eyes, which dive at all times
Downe to thy thoughts: in thy aspect I note
A consequence of danger.
Org.
Giue me leaue
(Graue Tecnicus) without fore-dooming destiny,
Vnder thy roofe to ease my silent griefes,
By applying to my hidden wounds, the balme
Of thy Oraculous Lectures: if my fortune
Run such a crooked by-way, as to wrest
My steps to ruine, yet thy learned precepts
Shall call me backe, and set my footings streight:
I will not court the world.
Tecn.
Ah Orgilus,
Neglects in young men of delights, and life,
Run often to extremities; they care not
For harmes to others, who contemne their owne.
Org.
But I (most learned Artist) am not so much
At ods with Nature, that I grutch the thrift
Of any true deseruer: nor doth malice
Of present hopes, so checke them with despaire,
As that I yeeld to thought of more affliction
Impute not this retired course of liuing
Some little time, to any other cause
Then what I iustly render: the information
Of an vnsetled minde, as the effect
Must clearely witnesse.
Tecn.
Spirit of truth inspire thee.
On these conditions I conceale thy change,
And willingly admit thee for an Auditor.
I'le to my study.
Org.
I to contemplations:
In these delightfull walkes—thus metamorphiz'd,
I may without suspition hearken after
Pentheas vsage, and Euphranias faith:
Loue! thou art full of mystery: the Deities
Themselues are not secure, in searching out
The secrets of those flames, which hidden wast
A breast, made tributary to the Lawes
Of beauty; Physicke yet hath neuer found
A remedy, to cure a Louers wound.
Ha? who are those that crosse yon priuate walke
Into the shadowing groue, in amorous foldings?
Prophilus passeth ouer, supporting
Euphrania, and whispering.
My Sister; ô my Sister? 'tis Euphrania
With Prophilus, supported too; I would
It were an Apparition; Prophilus
Is Ithocles his friend: It strangely pusles me:
Againe? helpe me my booke; this Schollers habit
Must stand my priuilege, my mind is busie,
Mine eyes, and eares are open.
walke by reading.
Enter againe Prophilus and Euphrania.
Proph.
Doe not wast
The span of this stolne time (lent by the gods
For precious vse) in nicenesse! Bright Euphrania,
Should I repeat old vowes, or study new,
For purchase of beleefe to my desires—
Org.
Desires?
Proph.
My seruice, my integrity—
Org.
That's better.
Proph.
I should but repeat a lesson
My Loue is honourable—
Org.
So was mine
To my Penthea: chastly honourable.
Proph.
Nor wants there more addition to my wish
Of happinesse, then hauing thee a wife,
Already sure of Ithocles a friend,
Firme, and vn-alterable.
Org.
But a brother
More cruell then the graue.
Euphr.
What can you looke for
In answer to your noble protestations,
From an vnskilfull mayd, but language suited
To a diuided minde?
Org.
Hold out Euphrania.
Euphr.
Know Prophilus, I neuer vnder-valued
(From the first time you mentioned worthy loue)
Your merit, meanes, or person: It had beene
A fault of iudgement in me, and a dulnesse
In my affections, not to weigh and thanke
My better Starres, that offered me the grace
Of so much blisfulnesse. For to speake truth,
The law of my desires kept equall pace
With yours, nor haue I left that resolution;
But onely in a word, what-euer choyce
Liues nearest in my heart, must first procure
Consent, both from my father, and my brother,
E're he can owne me his.
Org.
She is forsworne else.
Proph.
Leaue me that taske.
Euphr.
My brother e're he parted
To Athens, had my oath.
Org.
Yes, yes, 'a had sure.
Proph.
I doubt not with the meanes the Court supplies,
But to preuaile at pleasure.
Org.
Very likely.
Proph.
Meane time, best, dearest, I may build my hopes
On the foundation of thy constant suffrance
In any opposition.
Euphr.
Death shall sooner
Diuorce life, and the ioyes I haue in liuing,
Then my chast vowes from truth.
Proph.
On thy faire hand
I seale the like.
Org.
There is no faith in woman—
Passion? ô be contain'd: my very heart strings
Are on the Tenters.
Euphr.
Sir, we are over-heard;
Cupid protect vs: 'twas a stirring (Sir)
Proph.
Your feares are needlesse, Lady;
None haue accesse into these priuate pleasures,
Except some neere in Court, or bosome Student
From Tecnicus his Oratory; granted
By speciall fauour lately from the King
Vnto the graue Philosopher.
Euphr.
Me thinkes
I heare one talking to himselfe: I see him.
Proph.
'Tis a poore Scholler, as I told you Lady.
Org.
I am discouered—Say it: is it possible
With a smooth tongue, a leering countenance,
Flattery, or force of reason (—I come t'ee Sir)
To turne, or to appease the raging Sea?
Answer to that,—your Art? what Art to catch
And hold fast in a net the Sunnes small Atomes?
No, no; they'll out, they'll out; ye may as easily
Out-run a Cloud, driuen by a Northerne blast,
As fiddle faddle so. Peace, or speake sense.
Euphr.
Call you this thing a Scholler? 'las hee's lunaticke.
Proph.
Obserue him (sweet) 'tis but his recreation.
Org.
But will you heare a little! you are so teatchy,
You keepe no rule in argumeut; Philosophy
Workes not vpon impossibilities,
But naturall conclusions.—Mew?—absurd;
The metaphisicks are but speculations
Of the celestiall bodies, or such accidents
As not mixt perfectly, in the Ayre ingendred,
Appeare to vs vnnaturall; that's all.
Proue it;—yet with a reuerence to your grauity,
I'le baulke illiterate sawcinesse, submitting
My sole opinion to the touch of writers.
Proph.
Now let vs fall in with him.
Org.
Ha ha ha.
These Apish boyes, when they but tast the Grammates,
And principals of Theory, imagine
They can oppose their teachers Confidence
Leads many into errors.
Proph.
By your leaue Sir.
Euphr.
Are you a Scholler (friend?)
Org.
I am (gay creature)
With pardon of your Deities, a mushrome.
The Sunne shines on me too, I thanke his beames,
Sometime I feele their warmth; and eat, and sleepe.
Proph.
Does Tecnicus read to thee?
Org.
Yes forsooth,
He is my master surely, yonder dore
Opens vpon his Study.
Proph.
Happy creatures;
Such people toyle not (sweet) in heats of State,
Nor sinke in thawes of greatnesse: Their affections
Keepe order with the limits of their modesty:
Their loue is loue of vertue.—What's thy name?
Org.
Aplotes (sumptuous master) a poore wretch.
Euphr.
Dost thou want any thing?
Org.
Books (Venus) books.
Proph.
Lady, a new conceit comes in my thought,
And most auaileable for both our comforts.
Euphr.
My Lord.—
Proph.
Whiles I endeuour to deserue
Your fathers blessing to our loues, this Scholler
May daily at some certaine houres attend,
What notice I can write of my successe,
Here in this groue, and giue it to your hands:
The like from you to me; so can we neuer,
Barr'd of our mutuall speech, want sure intelligence;
And thus our hearts may talke when our tongues cannot.
Euphr.
Occasion is most fauourable, vse it.
Proph.
Aplotes, wilt thou wait vs twice a day;
At nine i'th morning, and at foure at night,
Here in this Bower, to conuey such letters
As each shall send to other? Doe it willingly,
Safely, and secretly, and I will furnish
Thy Study, or what else thou canst desire.
Org.
Ioue make me thankfull, thankfull, I beseech thee
Propitious Ioue, I will proue sure and trusty.
You will not faile me bookes.
Proph.
Nor ought besides
Thy heart can wish. This Ladies name's Euphranea,
Mine Prophilus.
Org.
I haue a pretty memory,
It must proue my best friend.—I will not misse
One minute of the houres appointed.
Proph.
Write
The bookes thou wouldst haue bought thee in a note,
Org.
No, no money:
Money to Schollers is a spirit inuisible,
We dare not finger it; or bookes, or nothing.
Proph.
Bookes of what sort thou wilt: doe not forget
Our names.
Org.
I warrant 'ee, I warrant 'ee.
Proph.
Smile Hymen on the grouth of our desires,
Wee'll feed thy torches with eternall fires.
Exeunt, manet Org.
Org.
Put out thy Torches Hymen, or their light
Shall meet a darkenesse of eternall night.
Inspire me Mercury with swift deceits;
Ingenious Fate has lept into mine armes,
Beyond the compasse of my braine.—Mortality
Creeps on the dung of earth, and cannot reach
The riddles, which are purpos'd by the gods.
Great Arts best write themselues in their owne stories,
They dye too basely, who out-liue their glories.
Exit.
| The Broken Heart | |