 | The bloodie banqvet |  |
Act. 1.
Scene. 1.
Enter, The two Kings of Lydia and Cilicia, Zenarchus sonne to the Cilician, Tymethes, sonne to the Lydian, Mazeres, Fidelio, Amorpho, Sextorio, Lodovicus, when they come unto the Throne, the Tyrant of Cilicia puts by the old King, and ascends alone: all snatch out their swords, Mazeres crownes him, the old King and Tymethes stand amazed.Florish.
Arm.
Speranza.
Omn.
Long live Armatrites King of Lydia.
King.
How?
Arm.
Art thou amaz'd old King, and all thy people
Mutually labouring in a fit of wonder?
Start from those pale dreames, we will prove all truë,
Who wins the day the brightnesse is his due.
King.
King of Cilicia.
Arm.
I and Lydia now,
Bate us not our Titles, we and ours
Have sweate and dearely earn'd them in our flesh.
King.
It savors not of noblenesse nor vertue,
Religion, loyalty, heaven or natures lawes
So most perfidiously to enter, Tyrant,
Where was, expected honesty and honour,
Assistance from a friend, not a dissembler,
A Royall neighbour and no politique foe.
What worse than this could th'enemy performe?
And when shines friendship best but in a storme?
Arm.
Why, doating Lydia, is it of no vertue
To bring our Army hither and put in venture
Our person and their lives upon our foes?
Wasting our courage, weakning our best forces;
Impoverishing the heart of our munition,
And having wonne the honour of the battaile
To throw our glory on unworthy spirits,
And so unload victories honey thighes
To let Droanes seede?
Will nothing satisfie but all?
Arm.
Without all, nothing.
The Kingdome and not under suites our blood,
Flyes are are not Eagles preyes nor thankes our food:
And for Cilicia our other spheare,
Our sonne Zenarchus let thy beames move there.
Zen.
Rather, my Lord, let me move pitty here,
Vnto that reverend fate-afflicted King;
For whom, with his disconsolate sonne (my friend
And plighted Brother) I here kneele as Sutor.
Oh my most Noble Father, still retaine
The seale of honour and religion,
A Kingdome rightly possessed by course,
Containes more joy than is usurpt by force.
Arm.
The Boy hath almost chang'd us.
Maz.
He cooles—my Lord, remember you are possess'd.
Arm.
What, with the Devill?
Max.
The Devill! the Dukedome, the Kingdome, Lydia.
All pant under your Scepter; the sway's yours,
Be not bought out with words, a Kingdome's deare,
Kisse fortune, keepe your minde, and keepe your state,
Y'are laught at if you prove compassionate.
Arm.
Thankes to Mazeres, he hath refresht our spirits,
Zenarchus, 'tis thy death if thou proceede,
Thy words we threate, rise silent or else bleed.
King.
Who can expect but blood where Tyrants governe?
Arm.
We are not yet so cruell to thy fortune
As was Lapyrus, thy owne Nephew, trecherous;
That stole upon thy life, beseig'd thee basely,
And had betray'd thee to thine enemies anger
Had we not beate his strength to his owne throate;
And made him shrinke before us, all can tell
In him twas monstrous, tis in us but well;
A tricke of warre, advantage, policy, nay rather recompence;
There's more deceite in peace, tis common there
T'unfold young heires, the old may well stand bare.
You have your life be thankefull, and tis more
Than your perfidious Nephew would consent to,
The sooner you be gone 'twill prove the safer.
Kin.
On thee Lapyrus, and thy treacheries, fall
The heavie burthen of an old mans curse.
Fid.
Your Queene with her two Infants fled the Citty
Affrighted at this treason and new warres.
Kin.
Newes of more sadnesses than the Kingdomes losse,
She fled upon her houre, for had she stayd
Sh' had either dyed, beene banish'd, or betrayd.
I have some servants here?
Arma.
All these my Lord.
Kin.
All these? not all; you did forget, I am not worth the flattering, I am done,
Old and at set, honour the rising Sunne.
If any for love serve me, which is he?
Now let him shame the world and follow me.
Fid.
That's I, my Lord.
Amor.
And I.
Kin.
What two of you?
Let it be enrould
Two follow a King when he is poore and old.
Exit cum suis.
Sex.
Farewell King. Ile play the Flounder, keepe me to my tyde.
Lod.
And so will I, this is the flowing side.
Maz.
Those men are yours, my Lord.
Arm.
We'le grace them chiefely,
Waite for imployment, place and eminence,
The like to each that to our bounty flies,
For he that falls to us shall surely rise.
His sonne Tymethes little frights our thoughts,
He's young, and given to pleasure, not to plots.
Maz.
Your Grace defines him right, he may remaine,
The Prince your sonne, bindes him in a love-chaine;
There's little feare of him.
Arm.
Their loves are deare,
Base Boy, he leaves his father to live here.
Maz.
His presence sets a glosse on your attempts,
They have their luster from him.
Arm.
He's their Countenance,
Twas well observ'd and follow'd, he shall stay,
Exit, all but Zenarchus and Tymethes.
Zen.
None but Mazeres, that Court flye, could on
The vertues of the King blow such corruption,
Man falls to vice in minutes, runnes, and leapes,
But unto goodnesse he takes wary steppes.
How soone a Tyrant? why Tymethes, Friend, Brother?
Tym.
Peace, prithee peace, you undoe me if you wake me,
I hope I'me in a dreame.
Zen.
Would twere so happy?
Tym.
No! why then wake Begger; but the comfort is
I have brave seeming kinsemen: why Zenarchus,
Tis not the losse of Kingdome, Fathers banishment,
Vncertainty of Mother, afflicts me
With halfe the violence that those cross'd affections,
Betwixt your Princely Sister and our selfe,
Who upon fortune, or her Fathers frowne,
Erecting the whole Fabricke of her love,
Either now will not, or else dare not love me.
Zen.
Chance alters not affection, see in me
That hold thee deare still spight of Tyrannie:
Fate does but dim the glasse of a right man,
He still retaines his worth, doe what fate can.
Change faith for drosse? I will not call her sister,
That shall hate vertue for affliction.
Enter Amphridote.
And here she comes to cleare those doubts her selfe.
Amp.
Strange alteration! will the King my Father
Goe to his grave a Ruffian and a Treacher?
In his gray heires turne Tyrant to his friends?
Wasting his penitentiall times in plots,
Acting more sinnes than he hath teares to weepe for them?
Tym.
Alas Lady, fortune hath chang'd my state, can you love a begger?
Am.
Why fortune hath the least cōmand ore love,
She cannot drive Tymethes from himselfe,
And tis Tymethes, not his painted glories,
My soule in her accomplish'd wish desires.
Zen.
What say you now sir?
Nothing but admire
That heaven can frame a creature like a woman
And she be constant, seeing most are common.
Zen.
Put by your wonder sir, she proves the same,
I spake her vertues for her ere she came,
And when my father dyes I here doe vow,
This kingdome now detained wrongfully
Shall then returne unforcedly to you,
In part thy dowry, but in all thy due.
Tym.
Vnmatched honest young man.
Enter Mazeres observing.
Zen.
Come, let your lips meete though your fortunes wander.
Maz.
Ha! taste lips so bounteously with a begger?
Zen.
Thus in firme state let your affections rest,
Time, that makes wretched, makes the same men blest.
Exeunt.
Maz.
What's here? either the Princes out of charities rarenesse
Are pleas'd to lay aside their glories, and refresh
The gasping fortunes of a desperate wretch;
Or if for larger bounties I was mad
T'advise the King for his remaining here
That had beene banish'd, and with him my feare:
I love the Princesse, and the King allowes it,
If he should prove a rivall to my love,
I have argued faire for his abiding here:
My plots shall worke his ruine, if one faile
Ile rayse a second, for I must prevaile:
I that us'd policie to cause him stay
Can shew like Art to rid my feares away.
Exit.
Scene. 2.
Enter the old Queene with two Babes, as being hard pursued.Que.
Oh whither shall I flye with these poore Babes?
Twice set upon by Theeves within this Forrest
Who rob'd me of my Cloathes, and left me these,
Which better suite with my calamity:
I cannot learne which is my worst affliction;
Oh trecherous Lapirus! impious Nephew!
All horrors of a guilty brest keepe with thee;
Either poore Babes, you must pine here for food,
Or have the wars drinke your immaculate blood.
Cry within follow, follow.
Oh flye, least life and honour be betrayd.
Exit.
Scen. 3.
Enter Lapirus disguised.Lap.
Villaine and fugitive, where wilt thou hide
Th'abhorred burthen of thy wretched flesh?
In what disguise canst thou be safe and free,
Having betray'd thy Counttey? base Lapirus.
Earth stretch thy throate; take downe this bitter Pill,
Loathing the hatefull taste of his owne ill.
Enter the Queene and two souldiers pursuing her.
Qu.
Oh help, good heaven save a poore wretch from slaughter.
The 1.
Stop her mouth first, souldiers must have their sport
Tis dearely earnd, they venture their blood for't.
Lap.
A Mother so enforc'd by pittilesse slaves?
Let me redeeme my honour in her rescue,
And in this deede my former basenesse dye.
The 2.
Come, come.
Que.
If ever woman bore you.
Lap.
Who ere bore them monsters begot them; mercilesse damn'd villaines.
Both.
Hold, hold, sir; we are souldiers, but doe not love to fight.
Exeunt.
Que.
Let me disswade yon from all hope of recompence
Save thankes and prayers, which are the Beggers gifts,
Lap.
You cannot give me that I have more neede of
Than prayers; for my soule hath a poore stocke;
There's a faire house within, but tis ill furnisht
There wants true teares for hangings, penitent falls,
Whence are you? that with such a carefull charge,
Dare passe this dangerous Forrest?
Que.
Generous sir,
I was of Lydia once, as happie then
As now unfortunate; till one Lapyrus,
That trayterous villaine Nephew to the King
Sought the confusion of his State and him;
And with a secret Army guirt his Land,
When peace was plighted by his enemies hand,
Little expecting such unnaturall Treason
From forth a Kinsmans bosome; all admir'd
But I his miserable Queene.
Lap.
Oh sinke into perdition, let me heare no further,
aside.
Que.
Ile tell you all; for your so late attempt
Confirmes you honest, and my thoughts so keepe you:
I frighted at new warres, and his false breath,
Chose rather with these Babes this lingering death.
Lap.
Oh in her words I endure a thousand deaths.
Que.
The truth of this sad story hath beene yours,
Now, curteous sir, may I request your name,
That in my prayers I may place the same,
Lap.
Ile put my death into her woefull hands.
Que.
I heare you not sir, I desire you name.
Lap.
To adde some small content to your distresse,
Know that Lapyrus, whom your miseries
May rightly curse, and be revenged justly
Lurkes in this Forrest equally distrest.
Que.
In this Forrest lurkes that abhorred villaine?
Lap.
These eyes did see him; and faith Lady, say
If you should meete that worst of villaines here,
That Treacher, Monster; what would you attempt?
Que.
His speedy death, I should forget all mercy,
Had I but meanes fully to expresse my vengeance.
Lap.
You would not, Queene.
Que.
No? by these Infants teares
That weepe for hunger, I would throughly doe't.
Lap.
See yonder he comes.
Oh where?
Lap.
Here, take my sword,
Are you yet constant? shame your Sex and be so; will you do't?
Que.
I see him not.
Lap.
Strike him through his guilt and trechery
And let him see the horrors of his perjur'd soule,
Are you ready?
Que.
Pray let me see him first.
Puls off his false beard and kneeles.
Lap.
You see him now—now do't.
Que.
Lapirus!
Oh fortunate revenge! now all thy villanies
Shall be at once requited, thy countries ruine
The King thy Vncles sorrow, my owne miseries,
Shall at this minute all one vengeance meete.
Alas, he doth submit, prayes, and relents,
Who could wish more? none made from woman can,
Small glory 'twere to kill a kneeling man:
When he in penitent sighes his soule commends
Thou send'st him to the Gods, thy selfe to th'fiends:
But hearken to thy piteous Infants cryes,
And th'are for vengeance, peace then, now he dyes.
Ingratefull woman, he delivered thee
From ravishment, canst thou his murthresse be?
What's riches to thy honours? that rare treasure
Which worlds redeeme not, yet tis lost at pleasure.
Kill him that preserv'd that? and in thy rescue
His noble rage so manfully behav'd:
Rise, rise, he that repents is ever sav'd.
Lap.
Will misery yet a longer life afford,
To see a Queene so poore, not worth her word?
Que.
I am better than my word, my word was death.
Lap.
Man's nere past griefe, till he be past his breath.
Que.
I pardon all Lapyrus.
Lap.
Doe not do't.
Que.
And onely to one penance I enjoyne thee
For all thy faults past, while we here remaine
Within this Forrest, this thy taske shall bee,
To procure succour to my Babes and me.
And if I faile may the earth swallow me.
Que.
Th'art now growne good, here could I ever dwell,
Were the old King, my husband safe and well.
Exeunt.
Scene. 4.
Enter Tymethes and Zenarchus.Zen.
Come, come, drive away these fits, faith Ile have thee merry.
Tym.
As your son and heire at his fathers funerall
Zen.
Thou seest my sister constantly affects thee.
Tym.
There were no mirth nor musicke else for me.
Zen.
Sir in this Castle the old King my father
Ore-worne with jealousie keepes his beauteous wife,
I thinke thou never saw'st her.
Tym.
No, not I.
Zen.
Why then thy judgements fresh, Ile visite her
On purpose for thy censure.
Tym.
I speake, my affection.
Zen.
Nay on my knowledge she's worth Jealousie.
Enter Roxano.
Though Jealousie be farre unworthy a King.
Rox.
My lov'd Lord?
Zen.
How cheares the Queene?
they whisper.
Tym.
Have I not seene this fellow before now?
He has an excellent presence for a Pander,
I know not his office.
Zen.
Vse those words to her.
Rox.
They shall be us'd my Lord, and any thing
That comes to using, let it come to me.
Exit.
Tym.
What's he Zenarchus?
Zen.
Who Roxano? a fellow in great trust,
Elected by my fathers jealousie.
But he, and all the rest attend upon her
I thinke would turne her Panders for reward;
For tis not watch nor ward keepes woman chast,
If honours watch in her mind be not plac't.
Tym.
Right Oracle; what gaine hath Iealousie?
Hunger and lust will breake through flesh and stones:
And like a whirle-winde blowes ope Castle dores.
Italian padlockes,
Zen.
What mad Lords are your jealous people then,
That lockes their wives from all men but their men?
Make them their keepers, to prevent some greater,
So oft it happens to the poores releefe,
Keepers eate Venison when their Lords eate Beefe.
Enter young Queene with a booke in her hand.
See, see, she comes.
Tim
Honour of beauty? there mans wishes rise,
Grace and perfection lighten from her eyes,
Amazement is shot through me.
Zen.
Tis Tymethes, Lady, Sonne to the banish'd King.
Que.
Is this he?
Zen.
It is sweete Lady.
Que.
I never knew the force of a desire
Vntill this minute strucke within my blood;
I feare one looke was destin'd to undoe me.
Zen.
Why Tymethes? friend.
Tym.
Ha?
Zen.
A Courtier, and forget your first weapon? goe and salute our Lady Mother.
Que.
He makes towards us: y'are Prince Tymethes? so I understand.
Tym.
The same unfortunate, most gracious Lady,
Supreamest of your Sexe in all perfections.
Que.
Sir, y'are forgetfull, this is no place for Courtship,
Nor we a subject for't, returne to your friend.
Tym.
All hopes kild in their blossome.
Que.
Too cruelly in faith I put him by,
Wine for our sonne Zenarchus, twas done kindly
Enter Roxano with wine.
You sonne, and our best Visitant.
Zen.
Duty bindes me.
Que.
Begin to me Zenarchus, Ile have't so.
Tym.
Why then there's hope shele take occasion
To drinke to me, she hath no meanes t'avoyd it.
Que.
Ile prevent all loose thoughts, drinke to my selfe,
My minde walkes yonder, but suspect walkes here.
Tym.
The divell's on that side and engrosses all,
Smiles, favours, common curtesies, none can fall
But he has a snatch at them; not drinke to me?
Que.
Make you yon stranger drinke.
Rox. offers it him.
Tym.
Pox of't not I.
Que.
I speake strange words against my fantasie.
Zen.
Prithee Tymethes drinke.
Tym.
I am not dry.
Zen.
I thinke so too; dry, and so young, 'twere strange,
Come prithee drinke to the Queene, my mother.
Tym.
You shall rule me—unto that beauteous Majesty.
Que.
Thanks noble sir; I must be wary, my mind's dangerous.
Ile pledge you anon sir.
Gives Roxano the Cup.
Tym.
Hart? how contempt ill fortune does pursue?
Not drinke, nor pledge, what was she borne to doe?
Ile stay no longer, least I get that flame,
Which nothing but cold death can quench or tame.
Zenarchus, come.
Exit.
Zen.
I goe, musick of minde to the Queene.
Que.
To you no lesse.
Zen.
And all that you can wish, or I expresse.
Exit.
Que.
Thankes to our sonne,
Th'other tooke leave in silence, but left me
To speake enough both for my selfe and thee.
Tymethes? that's his name, poore heart take heede,
Looke well into th'event ere thou proceede:
Love, yet be wise; impossible, none can;
If ere the wise man claime one foolish houre
Tis when he loves; he's then in follies power.
I neede not feare the servants that ore-watch me
Their faiths lye in my Coffers, in effect,
More true to me then to my Lords suspect.
The feares and dangers that most threaten me,
Live in the party that I must enjoy,
And that's Tymethes; men are apt to boast;
He may in full cups blaze and vaunt himselfe
The politique Engine to beate downe her name,
And from thence force a way to the Kings eares,
Strange fate; where my love keepes, there keepe my feares.
Enter Tyrant.
Tyr.
Alone? why where's her guard? suffer her alone?
Her thoughts may worke, their powers are not her owne.
Women have of themselves no entire sway,
Like Dyall needles they wave every way,
And must be throughly taught to be kept right,
And point to none but to their Lords delight.
Enter Roxano and guard.
Time to convey and plot? leave her alone!
Why Villaines—kisse me, my perfection,
This night we'le banquet in these blissefull armes.
Qu.
Your nights are musick, and your words are charmes.
Tyr.
Kisse me againe faire Tethis.
Walkes off with her, and the guard followes.
Rox.
My Lady is scarce perfect in her thoughts
How ere she fram'd a smile upon the Tyrant.
I have some skill in faces, & yet they never were more deceitfull;
A man can scarce know a Baud from a Midwife by the face;
An hypocriticall Puritan from a devout Christian
If you goe by the face; well all's not streight in my Lady.
She hath certaine crooked cogitations if a man had the liberty to search 'em:
If ought point at my advice or performance, shee may fortunately
Disclose it: she knowes my mettle, and what it yeelds to an ounce,
She cannot be deceiv'd in't: here's service, and secrecie, and no Lady can
Wish more, beside a Monkey, she is assur'd of our faculties, there's none
Of us all that stand her smocke Centinells, but would venter a joynt
To doe her any pleasurable service, and I think that's as much
As any woman desires—masse here she comes.
Enter Queene sad.
Que.
It cannot be kept downe with any Argument,
Tis of aspiring force; sparkes flye not downeward,
No more this receiv'd fancy of Tymethes,
I threaten it with my Lords Iealousy,
Yet still it rises against all objections;
I see my dangers, in what feares I dwell
There's but a Planke on which I runne to hell,
Yet were't thrice narrower I should venture on,
None dares doe more for sinne than woman can.
Misery of love—Roxano? I am observ'd,
What newes Roxano?
Rox.
None that's good, Madam.
Que.
No? which is the bad!
Rox.
The worst of all is, Madam, you are sad.
Que.
Indeede I am not merry.
Rox.
Would I knew the meanes would make you so,
I would turne my selfe into any shape or office
To be the Author of it, sweete Lady.
Que.
Troth I have that hope of thee, I thinke thou would'st.
Rox.
Thinke it?s foote, you might sweare safely in that action
And never hurt your oath—I nere fayld yet.
Que.
Twere sinne to injure thee, I know thou didst not.
Rox.
Nay I know I did not.
Que.
But my trusty servant,
This plot requires art, secresie and wit,
Yet out of all can hardly worke one safety.
Rox.
Not one, that's strange, I would 'twere put to me,
Ile make it arrive safe what ere it be.
Que.
Thou couldst not my Roxano—why admit I love, now I come to thee.
Rox.
Admit you love? why all's safe enough yet.
Que.
I, but a stranger.
Rox.
Nay, now we are all spoyld Lady,
I may looke for my braines in my Bootes—now you have put
Home to me indeed, Madam; A stranger? there's a hundred
Deaths in the very name, besides vantage.
Que.
I sayd I should affright thee.
Faith no foole can fright me, Madam, commonly cal'd a stranger.
Que.
Hast thou the will? or dar'st thou doe me good?
Rox.
Doe thee good, sweete Lady? as farre as I am able nere doubt it;
Let me but cast about for safety, and Ile doe any thing, Madam.
Que.
I, I, our safeties; which are meere impossibles,
Love forgets all things but its proper objects.
Rox.
What is he? and his name?
Que.
Tymethes, in a most unluckie minute
Led hither by our Sonne in Law Zenarchus.
Rox.
Hum, is that the most fortunate, spider catching, smocke wrapt Gentleman?
Que.
Yet if he know me.
Rox.
What then?
Que.
I am undone.
Rox.
And is it possible a man should lye with a woman and yet not know her?
And yet tis possible too—thanke my Invention, follow that game still.
Que.
He must not know me; than I love no further;
Although for not enjoying him I dye;
My Lords pale jealousie does so orelooke me,
That if Tymethes know what he enjoyes
It may make way unto my Lords mistrust;
Then since in my desire such horrours move
Ile dye no other then the death of love.
(She swounds and Roxano holds her in his armes.
Rox.
Lady, Madam, doe you heare?
Have you leasure to swoune now, when I have taken such paines i'th' businesse?
To take order for your safety, set all things right; why Madam?
Que.
What sayes the man?
Rox.
Why he sayes like a Gentleman every inch of him,
And will performe the office of a gentleman; bring you together;
But you together, and leave you together: what gentleman can doe more?
And all this safely?
Rox.
And all this safely? I by this hand will I,
Or else would I might never doe any thing to purpose;
If he have but the first part of a young gentleman in him.
Tis granted Madam; I have crotchets in my braine
That you shall see him and enjoy him, and he not know where he is, nor who it is.
Que.
How? shall he not know me?
Rox.
Why tis the least part of my meaning he should Lady.
Doe you thinke you could possibly be safe and he know you?
Why some of your yong Gallants are of that vaine-glorious and preposterous
Humour, that if they lay with their owne Sisters you should heare them prate of't,
This is too usuall, there's no wonder in't: what I have sayd
I will sweare to performe, you shall enjoy him ere night
And he not know you next morning.
Que.
Thou art not onely necessary but pleasing,
There, catch our bounty, mannage all but right,
As now with gold, with honours weele requite.
Exit.
Rox.
I am your creature Lady; pretty gold,
And by this light me thinkes most easily earn'd,
There's no faculty, say I like a Pander, and that makes so many
Now adayes dye in the Trade: I have your gold Lady,
And eke your service; I am one step higher,
This office makes a gentleman a Squire.
Exit.
| The bloodie banqvet | |