 | The Love-sick King |  |
ACT. 1.
SCEN. 1.
Enter King Etheldred, Alured his Brother, Edmond Duke of Thetford, Edulf, Edell Earl of Hampshire, with their Swords drawn, and some Souldiers wounded before them. Alarms continuing afar off.King,
O stay and hear me speak my noble Friends, my Subjects
and my Souldiers hear your King; in nine set Battels
gainst the conquering Danes hath Ethelred with various
fortunes fought, to rescue you and England from the
spoyls of War and Tyranny: Recall your spirits, this
City Winchester is all our strength,
With bloody rage, and sad confusion.
Cap. 1.
The breach is made, the Danes rush ore the Walls, and like
the pent up Ocean 'bove his banks, falls from his height with roaring violence,
and drowns us all in blood.
Alu.
despair not quite,
We yet may beat'em back, arm, arm to fight.
Edm.
The Danes are in the streets, slaughter begins, and execution
is their Souldiers words. O will you lay your throats beneath their
swords, or doth your danger make you desperate? your houses will be
preys to fire and theft.
King.
Your Wives and Daughters slaves to Danish lust.
Alur.
Your Children in their Mothers arms struck dead.
Edm.
The names of English torn from memory,
Oh let your valors in one chance be hurl'd,
Or quite extirpe a Nation from the World.
King.
See, on my knees, I pray you, for your selves; O 'tis for
Englands safety not my own, makes me a Subject to my Subjects thus,
let your valors rise, and in this last resist your enemies.
Alu.
Now by my Princely birth (my royal Brother) His sight amazes
more than all the Danes; rise, rise, and speak no more; put them
away, the stones will sooner yeeld you aid than they.
2. Capt.
Rip up our Brests, and see our loyal hearts to fight and die
for you in this just cause, But death hath seized us, all our bloods are
wasted, and through our many wounds our souls exhausted.
1. Capt.
And since we can no more, O let your swords take swift
revenge, and save the Danes a labor, In killing us you ease our present
woes.
Alarm and cryes within.
Ent. Edel.
Fly royal Princes, save your lives by flight, the day looks
clouded, there's no hope of safety; The traiterous Osbert Duke of
Mertia makes Head against you, and with all his Troops, enters the
City gates, guards in the Danes, tryumphs in slaughter thorough every
street. The aged Father of St. Swithins Abby, that with his holy Cross
between his hands, mounted the Walls to cause the Souldiers on to
fight for Freedom and Religion, Seeing this Treason, hath retir'd himself,
and on the holy Altar heaves his hands, awaiting death; the chast
religious Mayds, with Cartesmunda their fair Governess,
Hoping that place may shield their innocence.
King.
Come, Princely Alured, my noble Brother, lets seek to stop
their pressing through the City, if we must die—.
Alur.
'Tis but our Fate
Which even till death close by thy side Ile wait.
Exeunt.
Alarm. Enter Osbert, Erkinwald, Harold, and the Danes crying Kill, kill, the wounded Souldiers rise and fight, to them, the King, Alured, and the English, who are driven out and the King slain.
Edm.
Seek for your safety, Sir, the King is dead.
Alur.
See noble Edmond what the Danes have done, a King, by
Heaven created for a Crown, now onely made fit for a golden Urne, betrayd
to death and slaughter pittiless.
Edm.
Curse on the Traitors heart that wrought this Treason, rebellious
Osbert that betrayest thy Country.
Alur.
Leave his reward to Heaven that will avenge it, and brave
Duke Edmond, sith the times are such, lets take disguise with speed
and seek for safety; If Heaven be pleas'd, brave Lord, we yet may live,
if not, what Heaven has given, ile freely give. His thee to Thetford, raise
Donald the King is of a noble spirit, and will not slack I know to send
his aide against this common Foe to both our Kingdoms.
There shalt thou meet me, tho our journeys far,
Wee'l once again renue this dreadful war.
Edm.
Spoke like the hope of England! Royal Prince! shake hands
in this red City, and then part, for in thy quarrell I will live and
dye.
Alu.
First bear hence this cold clay of Majesty, our hapless Brother, and
revenge his death.
Edm.
That, and what else may but express thy Worth and Title
to the Crown, ile still pursue, or may black infamy my baseness
tell.
Alu.
My soul shall quit thy love. Brave Prince farewell.
Exeunt severally.
Alarm. Enter Canutus, K. of Denmark, Elgina his Sister, Erkinwald, Osbert, Harold, Osrick, Souldiers.
Osb.
The Cities wone, my Lord, the King is slain, and great Canutus
with his Royal Troops may take possession of this conquer'd
Town.
Canu.
Thy love brave Osbert duke of Mertia, revolting from the
English to our part, has overturn'd the City Winchester, drown'd in the
blood of Kingly Etheldred and all his Hoast. Hie thee Duke Erkinwald,
conduct our beauteous Sister to our Tent: You shall go back
Elgina strongly guarded, till with our swords we clear all passages that
may oppose our peaceful enterance.
While Trumpets sound the Danish Victories.
Conduct her Elkinwald.
Erk.
I shall, great Prince.
Elgi.
The Gods protect my noble Brothers safety, and crown thy
brows with wreathes of victory.
Canu.
Duke Harold take our Guards, and march before, ransack
the Temple, and each private house,
This day the Kingdom's wholly conquered.
Osb.
Long may it so remain to great Canutus; an hundred thirty
years the English Kings have paid just Tribute to the conquering
Danes, which now re-conquered, with assured hopes to hold possession
of the State and Crown, see here the slaughtered Body of a
King
Thus Osbert sets his foot upon thy head,
That was annointed late with precious Balm,
Rejoycing that by me thy pride is faln.
Canu.
Forbear brave English Lord, remember this, he was a King,
let not thy Subject foot tread on thy Sovereigns head; Take off his
Crown, and when the slaughter's past present it to us, and we will then
reward thy faithful service; enter the Town, spare neither Sex nor
Age,
The vanquish'd are but men, the Victors, gods.
Exeunt.
Alarm. A great Cry within. Enter Abbot bearing a Cross, Cartesmunda with two Tapers burning, which she placeth on the Altar, two or three Nuns following.
Abbot.
Come holy Virgins, hie you to the Altar.
Car.
The raging Foe pursues, defend us Heaven, Take Virgin tears,
the balm of martyr'd Saints, as tribute due to thy Tribunal Throne;
with thy right hand keep us from rage and murder; let not our danger
fright us, but our sins: Misfortunes touch our Bodies, not our
Souls;
Our deaths may be thy will, but not our Rapes.
Abb.
Fair Cartesmunda, bright illustrious Maid, O be thou constant
in this day of tryal.
That is true Holiness that lasts for ever.
Car.
Upon my knees to you and Heaven I swear, when I do yeeld
my Virgin vow to lust in the soft Twines of an insatiate bed, may I give
up the treasure of my youth
May soon reward my sin, and be my death.
Follow, follow, Alarm,
Abb.
Such Vows being kept are true religious. Hark, hark, the bloody
Foe has forc'd the Temple.
All Virgins,
To Nature wee'l be false, to Heaven be loyal.
Alarm. Enter Canutus, Erkinwald, Harrold, Hofman, Osrick, Souldiers.
Canu.
On, on, kill all, spare none; this by Canutus dyes; ha!
By Magick thus transforms me to a stone,
Senseless of all the faculties of life?
My blood runs back, I have no power to strike.
Call in our Guards, and bid them all give ore,
Sheath up your swords with me, and kill no more;
Her Angel-beauty cryes, she must not dye,
Nor live but mine: O I am taken strangely:
Methinks I lift my sword against my self,
When I oppose her: All perfection
O see, the pearled dew drops from her eyn;
Arise in peace; fair soul, will you be mine?
Car.
If you be death not else.
Canut.
Here is his power, for if my wrath thou move,
This blow shall rid my heart of torturing love;
Pale deaths effect shall take away the cause, and I be free as Ayr: Thou
Sorceress, that stay'st my hand with Witchcraft, and with Charms:
I will unwind thy cunning Exorcismes. Rare beautious Virgin, Will
you love Canutus?
Cartes.
When to these bodies dead, thou givest new life, I then will
love thee.
Canut.
Ile give thee death, As those in blood have faln; and thou
shall dye. I cud,—We will withdraw; Then kill her.
Cartes.
And I am ready, Tyrant, do thy worst. O heaven!
Canut.
Hold Traytor, hold, th'ast kill'd thy Sovereign: Does she
not bleed? O Love how strong's thy fear? All England shall not buy
this Jewel from me: Didst thou strike her?
Har.
I had not drawn my sword, you came so sudden.
Canut.
Nor never may'st thou draw it 'gainst her life, so she bee
pleas'd to love.
Cartes.
To hate thee I will love, but never love thee.
Canut.
Grant me thy Love, my Royalties are thine, and thou shalt
strike the Sun blind with thy lustre, in Ornaments more rich then is the
Treasure hid in the unknown bottome of the Sea; And for thy pleasures—
Cartes.
Peace, sleek Flattery. Thou seekest to violate my Virgin
Vow with thy inchanting tongue, which ere I break,
Death lose this power, ere I imbrace mans lust.
Canut.
She turns me wild with rage and passion; Ile rip thy bosome
up to see that wonder, a constant womans heart: Sure thine is flint, yet
He offers to strike, and his sword falls.
Erkin.
My Royal Lord.
Har.
Great Prince recall your spirits.
Canut.
I'm struck with lightning from the torrid Zone,
Stand all betwixt me and that flaming Sun;
Yet do not: Let her heat in death be spent.
Go Erkinwald, convey her to my Tent.
Let her be guarded with more watchful eyes,
Then heaven has stars, for fear she be surpriz'd;
If here she stay, I shall consume and dye,
'Tis time must give my passions remedy.
Art thou not gone? Kill him that gazeth on her,
For all that see her, sure must do at like me,
And Treason will be wrought against us for her.
Be sudden. To our Tents, Prethee away,
The hell on earth is love that brings delay.
Exit Erkin. with Cartes.
Har.
The Duke of Mertia with the English Crown attends the
pleasure of my Lord the King.
Canut.
Present him to us; O obdurate Maid,
The English Crown is valueless to thee,
This thy Idea crowns my victory.
Ent. Osbert.
Osb.
Low, as obedience, thus the vanquish'd English yeelds subject
duty to the King of Danes, and with this conquer'd Crown our lives
and honors.
Canut.
You please us well Duke Osbert; come invest us, thy
warlike hand shall crown Canutus head, For by thy aid, this Realm is
conquered.
Osb.
Long live Canutus mighty King of Danes, of Denmark,
Norway, and of England King.
Florish.
Canut.
Thanks Duke of Mertia, We must now remember that by
thy late revolt we wan this City, slew Etheldred the Lord of many
thousands.
Thou never shalt crown King or subject more.
Off with his head.
Osb.
My Lord.
Canut.
A guard I say, stop up the Traytors mouth: Let us have
fear, not love; Mans nature will be bold where it is lik'd; A Kingdome
got by blood must so be kept: I will not hear him speak, Away with
Osb.
Heavens wrath is justly sent.
Exit with Guard.
Canut.
Here was it that I saw that blazing Star whose bright aspect
promis'd a general peace to this affrighted Kingdome: Torches Slaves,
the night comes on us, we are all in darkness, prepare my bed, weel rest
us after toyl, and sleep, thou mother of forgetfulness, drown all my
thoughts that ere I saw this Virgin, make her a stranger to my memory,
that I may joy in this, not dye for love. Hofman, her looks are heaven;
her eyes are Cupids darts; Go bring her to me: Art not gone yet
slave? It is an Embassie too good for Hermes, the Herauld of the
gods: Thou shalt meet Lightning, yet on thou must, go ask that weeping
Nun, dost hear me? Art not gone? Were Hellen now alive, this
Maid alone would stain her beauty and new Troy should burn, Paris
would dye again to live to see her: O bring me her, Dull slave with
reverence; Let not the Sun be more out-worshipp'd by the tann'd Barbarian:
Tell her, A bleeding Lover sent thee to her, and name me
if thou chance to see her smile: Tha'st not forgot my name.
A cup of Wine ready.
Hof.
No my good Lord.
Canut.
Let me not spurn thee, Go, Fetch me some Wine, weel
war a while with Love. Fair Phædra, who in Corinth once was
found, compar'd to her, as different they wo'd show, as sable Ebony to
Alpine Snow; when first I saw her at the holy Altar, Surely the gods
more careful of her life, then of a mass of souls brought me upon her,
and fix'd my soul to hers: Let's have some Musick.
But thou prevent'st us with a better sound. The Accent of her
Name strikes Musick dumb, for she is Ayr of all perfection.—Her
Name?
Hof.
Her three times sacred Name, most Royal King, is Cartesmunda,
a Religious Nun.
Canut.
It needs no Epithite t'express the Name,
For Cartesmunda is the worlds bright frame.
I charge thee Villain, strait conduct her to me. Her sacred Name is
Cartesmunda call'd; O fairest soul! I fear't a harder Task to conquer
thee, than all the spacious Bounds of Barbary; Had the gods none to
take my glory from me, but a weak woman? O strange destin'd Fate!
Ten Worlds in Arms against Canutus State.
See the day breaks; Look where Aurora comes, and see the Mornings
dew falls from her eyes, begetting better Flowers than those of May
How camest thou to my sight? What makest thou here? Camest thou
to murder me?
Cartis.
What all my friends have found but wretched I,
I seek for, death to end my misery.
Canut.
But canst not find him, for thou art immortal; Death wud
dye for thee, if he ever saw thee, and for thy sake make blunt his Ebon
dart; Pray weep no more, He prayes that might command; We will
not force the Jewel thou so prizest, till thou bequeath it freely to my
youth. We are oth'Eagles kind, and scorn to stoop to an ignoble
Thought: Sweet will you hear me; 'Twas King Canutus fetch'd that
sigh you heard: Still turn aside! Well, if you loathe me, leave me;
there lyes your way: Yet be advis'd, Fond Maid; No sooner shalt
thou pass from forth my sight, but the base Souldiers will lay hold
on thee, and what I value 'bove Religion, will not be thus much there,
They'l ravish thee, and therefore prethee stay, with tears I pray thee.
Thou frosty April, woo't not love for love? Doo't then for Honor,
Pleasure, Majesty: Ungentle still? Then get thee from my sight: Go
to the Woods, and learn of wilder Beasts a little pitty: You preserve
chastity with a foul sin, Ingratitude: Goodnight; Yet stay, We are
strangers, We may kiss at parting; Thou hast infus'd Promethean
Fires into me: I have two lives, Yet none of them mine own. Fair
Cartesmunda, If thou wilt be gone, bid me Goodnight, though in
some Language that I understand not:
Cartes.
Goodnight, My Lord.
Canut.
When shall I have thy Love?
Cartes.
When men shall cease to think there is a God, or any thing
more strange: Alas, great Prince!
My Life I owe to you, but not my Love.
Canut.
So young, and full of grey hair'd Purity: In vain I shoot
against a wall of brass, that sends mine own shafts back upon my self.
I must choose fitter time to conquer thee. Lights, and a double guard
t'attend my Love.
Ile wake with thought of thee, and then with weeping.
Exeunt. Manet Erkinwald, Harold, Captain.
Erk.
The King is Love-sick Harold; Joyn thy powers, and round
begirt this City Winchester; Beset the wayes, let not the English scape,
That stood the siege and sack of Winchester.
I think there's few escap'd, the King is slain
And England now submits toth'conquering Dane.
Erk.
Prince Alured, the Brother to the King, and Edmond Duke
of Thetford both are scap'd and may raise powers afresh: Therefore
be careful.
Enter Elgina.
Har.
Doubt not my Lord. See here comes the Princess.
Ex.
Erk.
Madam, I bring you dear commends from your great Brother,
England is won, and the white flag of peace is rear'd upon the ruins of
this City, King Etheldred is slain, and great Canutus invested with his
Crown and Dignity. What conquest can be more?
Elg.
That you subdue your thoughts; good sir, give ore, till I have
conference with the King.
Erk.
And then youle love?
Elg.
Till then ile love no other.
Enter two Souldiers dragging in Alured in disguise.
1 Soul.
Drag him along, he's English and must dye. Come forward
sir.
Alu.
Yee cannot fright me, 'tis my wish to die,
And I that seek it scoff your Tyranny,
O for fair Englands good and my lost powers,
Mine be the suffering, and the glory yours.
Erk.
What prisoner have our Danish Souldiers got?
2 Sould.
One of the straggling English, my good Lord,
And now are leading him to have him tortur'd.
Erk.
Let him come near us, Say, what art thou?
(Whispers with Alured.
Elg.
Some God, I think, disguis'd in humane shape, come down to
court us with bewitching looks,
To thee I owe the pleasure of my youth.
Erk.
Was that thy fortune, 'thad been better far
Th'adst fallen amongst thy friends in this dread war
Then live to further shame. Away and hang him.
Elg.
Stay good my Lord.
Erk.
Madam forbear, the King hath sworn the deaths of all that
bar'd his enterance to this City; they scorn'd his profer'd peace,
and now must perish. This may suffice, Hee's English, and must dye.
Elg.
If all the English perish, then must I, for I (now know) in
England here was bred, although descended of the Danish blood, King
Hardiknut my Father, thirty years governed the one half of this famous
Therefore I pray, my Lord, set this man free
Let me bestow his life and liberty;
Ile beg it of the King.
Erk.
Madam, tis yours, go Souldiers drink this gold, and let our
word to you discharge your Prisoner.
1. Soul.
It shall my Lord, wo'd we were rid of all the English thus.
Ex. Sould.
Elg.
Pray Sir, resolve me, what has your fortunes been?
Alu.
The most of woes dear Princess, I have liv'd to see my Country
ruin'd, my friends murdred,
I had been dead, that life I have's your due.
Elg.
Comfort your self, henceforth you shall be mine,
Attend this, noble Lord, 'tis for your good;
Where mildness conquers, we must shed no blood.
Erk.
You are all compact of Love and Mercy (Lady) attend me
sir, and for this Princess sake, we will prefer thee; come beauteous Madam
you now must leave the Tents to entertain the glorious tryumphs of
the great Canutus, whom you must comfort, for the Love-sick King
sits sadly doating on a beauteous Nun.
Elg.
Is't possible (my Lord) the King our brother,
In midst of Conquest sho'd be Cupids prisoner?
Erk.
Such is loves power, it flies with swiftest wings,
And midst his armed Guards he woundeth Kings.
Elg.
Venus defend me, if he be thus powerful we shall be all Souldiers,
and these stern Wars must be transformed into Loves encounters.
Well, my good Lord, wee'l see this English wonder my Brother so admires,
call for our Guard and Train.
Erk.
They are ready (madam)
Elg.
Go you before then (sir) and Ile not stay,
Look to your Prisoner, lest he run away.
Erk.
O fear not Lady—Come sir.
Ex. Erk. Alur.
Elg.
Wo'd he wo'd run, so he wo'd take me with him, by Jove I love
him, but 'tis bashfulness, that thus makes women hide their passions,
even till we burst and die; we must not plead love,
With fond denial when we wish to chuse it.
I see no sence for this; well amorous youth,
For thy sake Ile teach women what to do,
Exit.
| The Love-sick King | |