 | The Martyr'd Souldier |  |
ACTUS SECUNDUS.
Enter Hubert and Damiauns.Hub.
For look you Damianus, though Henricke, now King,
Did in the battaile well and Bellizarius enough for
A Generall, did not I tell 'em home?
Dam.
I heard it.
Hub.
They shall not make bone-fires of their owne glories,
And set up for me a poore waxe Candle:
To shew mine I am full of gold now;
What shall I doe with it Damianus?
Dam.
What doe Marriners after boone voyages?
But let all flye:
And what Souldiers, when warres are done?
But fatten peace.
Hub.
Poxe of Peace, she has churles enough to fatten her:
Ile make me a Shamoyes Doublet, embroydered
All over with flowers of gold: in these dayes
A woman will not looke upon a man
If he be not brave: over my Doublet a
Soldado Cassacke of Scarlet, larded thicke with
Gold Lace, Hose of the same Cloake of the same too,
Lasht up this high, and richly lined:
There was a Lady before I went, was working
With her needle a Scarffe for mee,
But the Wagtaile has left her nest.
Dam.
No matter, there's enough such birds every where.
Yes, women are as common as glasses in Tavernes,
And often drunke in, and more often crackt;
I shall grow lazy if I fight not:
I would faine play with halfe a dozen Fencers;
But it should be at sharpe.
Dam.
And they are all for foyles.
Hub.
Foyl'd let 'em be then.
Dam.
You had fencing enough in the field, and for women,
The Christians field your markets.
Hub.
Yes, and those markets were our Shambles, flesh enough,
It made me weary of it: Since I came home
I have beene wondrous troubled in my sleepes,
And often heard to sigh in dead of night,
As if my heart would cracke; you talke of Christians,
Ile tell you a strange thing; a kinde of melting in
My soule, as 'twere before some heavenly fire,
When in their deaths (whom they themselves call Martyrs)
It was all rocky: nothing they say can soften
A Diamond but Goates blood, they perhaps wete Lambes,
In whose blood I was softned.
Dam.
Pray tell how.
Hub.
I will: after some three houres being in Carthage,
I rusht into a Temple, Starr'd all with lights;
Which with my drawne sword, rifling in a roome,
Hung full of Pictures, drawne so full of sweetnesse,
They struck a reverence in mee; found I a woman,
A Lady all in white; the very Candles
Took brightnesse from her eyes, and those cleare Pearles,
Which in aboundance falling on her cheekes,
Gave them a lovely bravery; at my rough entrance
She shriek'd, and kneel'd, and holding up a paire
Of Ivory finger'd hands, begg'd that I would not
(Though I did kill) dishonour her, and told me
Shee would pray for me: never did Christian
So neare come to my heart-strings; I let my Sword
Fall from me, stood astonisht, and not onely
Sav'd her my selfe, but guarded her from others.
Done like a Souldier.
Hub.
Blood is not ever
The wholsom'st Wine to drinke; doubtlesse these Christians
Serve some strange Master, and it needes must bee
A wonderfull sweete wages which he paies them:
And though men murmour, get they once here footing,
Then downe goes our Religion, downe our Altars,
And strange things be set up—I cannot tell,
We held so pure, finde wayes enough to hell:
Fall out what can, I care not, Ile to Bellizarius.
Dam.
Will you? pray carry to him my best wishes.
Hub.
I can carry any thing but Blowes, Coles, my Drink,
and that clapper of the Divell, the tongue of a Scould:
Farewell.
Exeunt.
Flourish: Enter the King, Antony, Cosmo, all about the King, and Bellizarius.
King.
They swarme like Bees about us: insomuch
Our People cannot sacrifice, nor give Incense,
But with interruptions, they still are buzzing thus,
Saying, Their Gods delight not in vaine showes,
But intellectuall thoughts, pure and unstain'd:
Therefore reduce them from their heresies,
Or build our Prison walls with Christians bones.
What thinkes our Bellizarius? he that was wont
To be more swift to execute, than we to command:
Why sits not Bellizarius?
Bel.
I dare not.
King.
Protect me Iove,
Who dare gaine say it?
Bel.
I must not.
King.
Say we command it.
Bel.
Truth is, I neither can, nor will.
Omn.
Hee's mad.
Bel.
Yes I am mad,
To see such Wolvish Tyrants, as you are,
Oh you white soules that hover in the aire,
Who through my blindnesse were made deaths prey;
Be but appeas'd, you spotlesse Innocents,
Till with my blood I have made a true attonement,
And through those tortures, by this braine devis'd,
In which you perish't, I may fall as you,
To satisfie your yet fresh bleeding memories,
And meete you in that garden, where content
Dwels onely; that in blood did glory,
Will now spend blood to heighten out your story.
Anton.
Why Bellizarius—:
Bel.
Hinder me not,
I'me in a happy progresse, would not change my guest,
Nor be deterr'd by Moles and Wormes that cannot see,
Such as you are: alas I pitty you.
Dam.
The King's in presence.
Bel.
I talke of one that's altitude's 'bove him,
That owes all Principalities: he is no King
That keepes not his decrees; nor am I bound
In duty to obey him in unjust acts.
King.
All leave the roome.
Exeunt Lords.
Omnes.
We obey your highnesse.
King.
Sir, nay sir good Bellizarius.
Bel.
In that I doe obey.
Kin.
Doe you make scruple then of our command?
Bel.
Yes Sir, where the act's unjust and impure.
King.
Why then are we a King, if not obey'd?
Bel.
You are plac'd on earth, but as a Substitute
To a Diviner being, as subjects are to you,
And are so long a King to be obey'd,
As you are just
King.
Good Bellizarius, wherein doe I digresse?
Have not I made thee great? given thee authority
To scourge those mis-beleevers, those wild Locusts,
That thus infect our Empire with their Scismes?
The World is full of Bellizarius deedes:
When they shall read what great ones thou hast done
In honour of us, and our sacred gods,
For which next unto love they gave a Laurell
To Bellizarius; whose studious braine
Fram'd all these wracks and tortures for these Christians.
Hast thou not all our Treasure in thy power?
Who but your selfe commands as Bellizarius?
Then whence my Bellizarius comes this change?
Bel.
Poore King, I sorrow for thy weakned sence,
Wishing thy eye-sight cleare, that Eagle-like,
As I doe now, thou might'st gaze on the Sunne,
The Sunne of brightnesse, Sunne of peace, of plenty:
Made you me great? in that you made me miserable,
Thy selfe more wretched farre, in that thy hand
The Engine was to make me persecute
Those Christian soules, whom I have sent to death;
For which I ever, ever shall lament.
King.
Ha? what's this, within there?
Bel.
Nay, heare me Henrick, and when thou hast heard me out,
With Bellizarius, thinke that thou art blest,
If that with me thou canst participate.
King.
Thou art mad.
Bel.
No; 'tis thou art mad,
And with thy frenzie makes this Kingdome frantick.
Forgive me thou great Power, in whom I trust,
Forgive me World, and blot out all my deeds
From those black Kalends: else, when I lye dead,
My Name will ever lie in obliquie.
Is it a Sinne that can make great men good?
Is prophanation turn'd to sanctity?
Vices to Vertues? if such disorder stand,
Then Bellizarius Acts may be held just:
Otherwise nothing.
King.
Some Furie hath possest my Bellizarius
That thus he railes: Oh my dearest,
Call on great Iupiter.
Alas poore Idoll,
On him! on him that is not, unlesse made:
Had I your Iove, I'de tosse him in the Ayre,
Or sacrifice him to his fellow-gods,
And see what he could doe to save himselfe.
You call him Thunderer, shaker of Olympus,
The onely and deare Father of all gods:
When silly Iove is shooke with every winde,
A fingers touch can hurle him from his Throne:
Is this a thing to be ador'd, or pray'd too?
King.
My love turnes now to rage: Attendance there,
Enter all the Lords.
And helpe to binde this mad man, that's possest:
By the powers that we adore, thou dyest.
Bel.
Here me thou ignorant King, you dull-braind Lords,
Oh heare me for your owne sakes, for your soules sake,
Had you as many gods as you have dayes,
As once the Assyrians had, yet have yee nothing:
Such service as they gave, such you may give,
And have reward, as had the blinde Moloffians.
A 'Toad one day they worship: one of them drunke
A health with's god, and poyson'd so himselfe:
Therefore with me, looke up, and as regenerate soules—
Dam.
Can you suffer this?
This his affront will feare up the devotion
Of all your people: he that persecuted,
Become a convertite!
Bel.
'Tis joy above my joy: oh had you seene
What these eyes saw, you would not then
Disswade me from it; nor will I leave that power
By whom I finde such infinite contentments.
Hen.
Epidophorus, your eare: see't done.
Epi.
It shall my Lord.
Hen.
Then by the gods,
And all the powers the Vandals doe adore,
Thou hast not beene more terrible to the world,
Than to thy selfe I now will make thee.
I, dare thy worst; I have a Christians armour
To protect me.
You cannot act so much as I can suffer.
Hen.
He try your patience.
Enter Epido. two Christians and officers.
Epi.
'Tis done my Lord as you directed.
Hen.
They are come:
Make signes you'le yet deny your Christianity,
They make signes.
And kneele with us to sacred Iupiter:
No; make them then a Sacrifice to Iupiter,
For all the wrongs by Bellizarius done:
Dispatch I say, to the fire with them.
Bel.
Alas good men, Tonguelesse? you'le yet be heard;
The sighes of your tun'd soules are musicall;
And whil'st I breath, as now my teares I shed,
My prayers Ile send up for you: 'twas I that mangl'd you.
How soone the bodies Organ leaves the sound!
The Life's next too't, a Needles point ends that,
A small thing does it; now you have quiet roomes,
No wrangling, all husht: now make me a fellow
In this most palient suffering.
Hen.
Beare them unto the fire, and place him neere,
To fright him.
Flourish.
Bel.
On fellow Souldiers,
Your fires will soone be quencht: and for your wrongs,
You shall above, all speake with Angels tongues.
Exeunt.
Enter Clowne, Constable, and three watchmen.
Clown.
You that are borne Pagans both by father & mother,
The true sonnes of Infidelity, sit downe by me your Officiall:
Or to come nearer to the efficacy of the word,
Your undermost Iaylor, or staller;
The word is Lordly and significant.
Omnes.
Oh brave Master y'faith.
Clown.
Therefore sit downe,
And as by vertue of our place, we have Authority given,
As of others; let us I say, be unbounded in our Authority,
Having the Lawes, I meane the Keyes, in our owne hands.
Const.
Friend, friend, you are two forward in your Authority,
Your command is limited where I am in place:
For though you are the Lieutenants man, know sir that I
Am Master of the worke, and Constable Royall
Vnder the Kings Majesty.
Omnes.
Marry is hee.
Const.
If their testimonie will not satisfie here my Title
At this place, in this time, and upon this occasion,
I am Prince over those Publicans, Lord over these Larroones,
Regent of these Rugs, Viceroy over these Vagabonds,
King of these Catterpillars; and indeed, being a Constable,
Directly Soveraigne over these my Subjects.
2. Offic.
If all these stiles, so hard to climbe over, belong
To the Office of a Constable, what kin is he to the Divell?
Const.
Why to the Devill my friend?
Clown.
Ile tell you; because a Constable is King of Nights,
And the other is Prince of Darknesse.
Const.
Darke as it is, by the twilight of my Lanthorne,
Methinks I see a company of Woodcocks.
2. Offic.
How can you discerne them?
Enter Epidorus, Victoria & Bellina.
Clown.
Oh excellent well
By their bills: see, see, here comes the Lievtenant.
Epid.
Well sayd my friends, you keepe good watch I see.
Clown.
Yes Sir, we Officers have breath as strong as Garlick
No Christian by their good wills dare come neare us.
Epid.
'Tis well, for beare:
Oh Madam, had you seene with what a vehemency
He did blaspheme the Gods,
Like to a man pearcht on some lofty Spire,
Amaz'd which way to relieve himselfe,
You would have stood as did the King, amaz'd.
Vict.
God grant him liberty,
And with that give us privacy:
I doubt not, but our sweet conference
Epid.
Iove grant it: Ile leave the roome.
Exit Epid.
Clowne.
A jaylor seldome lookes for a bribe,
But hee's prevented.
Exeunt Officers.
Enter Bellizarius in his Night-gowne, with Epidophorus.
Epid.
My Lord, your Lady,
And her most beauteous daughter,
Are come to visit you, and here attend.
Bel.
My Wife and Daughter, oh welcome love;
And blessing Crowne thee, my beloved Bellina.
Uict.
My Lord pray leave us.
Epid.
Your will be your owne Law.
Exit Epidoph.
Vict.
Why study yon my Lord, why is your eye fixt
On your Bellina, more than on me?
Bel.
Good, excellent good:
What pretty showes our fancies represents us:
My faire Bellina shines like to an Angel,
Has such a brightnesse in her Christall eyes,
That even the radiancy duls my sight.
See, my Victoria, lookes she not sweetly?
Vict.
Shee does my Lord; but not much better than she was wont.
Bel.
Oh shee but beginnes to shine as yet,
But will I hope ere long be stellified:
Alas, my Victoria, thou look'st nothing like her.
Vict.
Not like her? why my Lord?
Bel.
Marke, and Ile tell thee how:
Thou art too much o're growne with sinne and shame,
Hast pray'd too much, offer'd too much devotion
To him and those that can nor helpe, nor hurt,
Which my Bellina has not:
Her yeares in sinne are not as thine are, old:
Therefore me thinkes she's fairer farre than thou.
Vict.
I my Lord, guided by you, and by your precepts
Have often cal'd on Iupiter.
Bel.
I, there's the poynt:
'Twas I that taught thee first to Idolize,
And unlesse that I can with-draw thy mind
From following that, I did with teares intreat,
I'me lost, for ever lost, lost in my selfe and thee:
Oh my Bellina.
Bellina.
Why Sir, shall we not call on Iove that gives us food,
By whom we see the heavens have all their Motions?
Bel.
Shee's almost lost too, alas my Girle,
There is a higher Iove that rules 'bove him:
Sit my Uictoria, sit my faire Bellina,
And with attention hearken to my dreame:
Me thought one evening, sitting on a fragrant Virge,
Close by there ranne a silver gliding streame;
I past the Rivolet, and came to a Garden,
A Paradise, I should say, for lesse it could not be;
Such sweetnesse the world containes not, as I saw;
Indian, Aramaticks, nor Arabian Gummes,
Were nothing sented unto this sweet bower:
I gaz'd about, and there me thought I saw
Conquerours and Captives, Kings and meane men,
I saw no inequality in their places:
Casting mine eye on the other side the Palace,
Thousands I saw my selfe had sent to death;
At which, I sigh'd , and sob'd, I griev'd, and groan'd,
Ingirt with Angels, where those glorious Martyrs,
Whom this ungentle hand untimely ended;
And beckon'd to me, as if heaven had said,
Beleeve as they, and be thou one of them;
At which my heart leapt, for there me thought I saw,
As I suppos'd, you two, like to the rest:
With that I wak'd, and resolutely vow'd
To prosecute, what I in thought had seene.
Bellina.
'Twas a sweet dreame, good Sir make use of it.
Vict.
And I, with Bellizarius, am resolv'd
To undergoe the worst of all afflictions,
Where such a glory bids us to performe.
Now blessings crowne yee both,
The first stout Martyr has his glorious death,
Though stony-hard, yet speedy; when ours comes,
I shall tryumph in our affliction.
This adds some comfort to my troubled soule,
I that so many have depriv'd of breath,
Shall winne two soules to accompany me in death.
Exeunt.
| The Martyr'd Souldier | |