University of Virginia Library

Scena 1.

Enter Caradoc, Guiniuer, Uoada, his sister, Mauron, Constantine, Gald, Lord Morgan.
Cara.
Now, beautious Queen & sister, though our tedious absence
In warlike Bryttaine, hath beene the cause
Of your imprisonment, yet, at our returne,
The gods in iustice haue repayde the wrong,
Done to your beauties by base trechery,
And forst that damned instrument of sinne,
To hide his bastard head in endlesse shame.
Then, Royall Queene, (for that's a stile befits
The royall vertues of such peerelesse lustre)
Ascend your Throne, vvhilest equally with me,
You part, vvith full applause, your soueraignety.

A flourish. Shee is crowned.
Omnes.
Long liue Queene Guiniuer, Queene of Cambria.

Guin.
Thanks, Royall Lord. Oh, may these smiling stars,
That kindly haue conioynd each others loue,
And of two bodies louingly made one,
Crovvne all thy actions vvith a gracious looke,
And make thee fortunate in peace and vvarre.
Not all the trecherous complots of that Fiend,
Restraint of free ayre, close imprisonment,
Could with their strange appearances imprint
Such feeling Characters of sudden woe,
As your great conquest doth create nevv ioy,
And exultation of your dangers past.

Cara.
Thanks, gentle Loue. Now sister Uoada,
The duty and the care that euer since
My reason could distinguish, and that fraternall loue
Nature imposed, that many Moones and yeeres
Haue been imployde vnto the good I owe
Thy riper yeares, shall in this minutes space
Be full discharged: Therefore, thrice noble friend,
I giue vnto thy hand an Orient Pearle
Of more esteeme, then that, which at a health
Great Cleopatra did carouse in wine,
To Romane Anthony. Loue her well, sweet Prince;
Let it suffice; part of our Royall bloud
Runs through the chanels of her Azure veynes,
And that she is our sister.

Gald.
Right noble Prince, when Gald in lieu of this
So Kingly and so rare a benefite,
(In whom the mirrour of bright Excellence
So cleare, and so transparantly appeares)
Forgets to honour thee or her in loue,
May he liue branded with some heauy curse,
Worse then oppression of the vviddowes right:
Or when I shall forget to offer vp
A sacrifice of my immaculate loue,
Vnto thy beautious altar, let me haue
A base deformed obiect to my graue.

Uoada.
And Princely Lord, may no delightsome gale
Of sweet content blow on this mortall state
Of what I now possesse, if from my heart
The deepe impression of my loue depart.

A Trumpet within.
Cara.
Cousin Morgan, looke what Trumpet's this.

Morgan.

I warrant her, tis for more knocks on the pate.
Romans call you her? Be Cad, scuruy Romanes, that cannot
let her alone in her own Countries. Ile choke some
of her with cause bobby, or drowne her in hogsheads of
Perry and Metheglin.

He goes to the dore. Enter Marcus Gallicus.

I pray you, from whence come her?

Marcus.

From Rome.

Morgan.

From Rome! And I pray you, what a poxe ayles
her, that you cannot keepe her at home? haue you any
Waspes in her tayles? or liue Eeles in her pelly, you cannot
keepe her at home? Harke you me: I pray you, how toth
M. Cesar? toth he neede era parbour? Looke you now: let
him come to Wales, and her Cousin Caradoc shall trim his
crownes, I warrant her.

Marc.
I vnderstand you not.

Morg.
Cads nayles? Cood people, doth Morgan speake
Hebrewes or no? Vnderstand her not?

Cara.
Now, Romane, for thy habit speaks thee so:
Is it to vs thy message is directed?

Marc.
Yes, Prince. And thus the Romane General sayes,
If within ten dayes space thou wilt resigne
Thy Kingdome to the heyre, Lord Codigune,
From whom thou doest detayne it wrongfully,
Thou shalt haue peace: but if thou doest deny,
Sterne warre by force, shall force it presently.

Morg.

Harke you now, Cousin, Cads blue-hood, if you
had beate out her praynes, you had peene quiet. Shesu, more
troubles and fex ashions! what a orld is this?

Cara.
Dares that damn'd Traytour ope his hellish throat
Against our right? Or ist your Romane guize,
To backe blacke Treasons and conspiracies?
Embassadour, returne vnto thy Lord:
Within these ten dayes he shall heare from vs.
Aside.
But by the gods that doe vphold the frame
And fabricke of the world, lest it should fall
Vpon the head of that damn'd murtherer,
It shall be to his cost. Come, let's away.

Enter a shepheard running hastily.
Shep.
O mighty King, pitty thy peoples wrongs,
And cease the clamors of both young and old,
Whose eyes doe penetrate the gates of heauen,
To looke vpon the tragicall mishaps,
And bloudy spoyle of euery passenger.
Our sheepe deuoured, our shepheards dayly slaine,
All by a furious Serpent, not farre hence,
Whom lesse, great King, you doe preuent in time,
A timelesse massacre ouerruns your land,
And danger waites, euen at your Palace gates,
And your selfe's as incident to death,
As euery common Hynde it hath deuoured.
Therefore delay not, mighty Soueraigne.

Cara.
A Serpent? where? when? how came it thither?
Ile not demurre, Shepheard, leade on the way.
Ile follow thee. There's danger in delay.
Come, Cousin Morgan, goe along with vs.
Princes, farewell awhile.

Morgan.

Cads blue-hood, fight with Teuils. I warrant her,

some Embassadors from Belzebubs shortly. Here's a great
teale of sturres. I pray Cad plesse her from Teuils. They are
a great teale worse then Marshall men, and Bum-Bayly.
From all of them, Cood Lord deliuer her. I come,
Cousin.

Guiniuer.
Good Angels guide thy dangerous enterprise,
And bring thee backe, with conquest to thy friends.
Some powerfull Spirit houer ouer the head
Of my deare Lord, and gard him from the rage
Of that fell Monster. Come, Princes, let's away.
A womans feares can hardly stint or stay.

Exeunt.
Manet Marcus Gallicus. He lookes after Uoada.
Marcus.
I haue not seene a beauty more diuine,
A gate more like to Iunoes, Queene of heauen.
I cannot tell; but if there be a Cupid,
Arrowes and flames, that from the sacred fires
Of loue and passion, that fond men inspires
With desperate thoughts, kindles our vain desires:
Then in this brest their locall place must be.
Oh Loue, how powerfull is thy Deity,
That binds the vnderstanding, blinds the eye!
Yet here's an obiect for the eye so rare,
Deceyt can ne're beguile, it is so fayre.
This chase Ile keepe, and eyther winne the game,
Or lose the golden Fleece vnto my shame.

Exit.