The Tragedie of Gorbodvc where of three Actes were wrytten by Thomas Nortone, and the two laste by Thomas Sackuyle |
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Actus quintus.
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 | The Tragedie of Gorbodvc |  |
Actus quintus.
The order and signification of the dōme shewe before the fifthe Acte.
Firste the Drommes and Fluites, beganne to sounde, durynge whiche there came foorth vpon the Stage a companie of Hargabusiers and of Armed men all in order of Battaile. These after their Peeces discharged, and that the Armed men had three tymes marched aboute the Stage, departed, and then the Drommes and Fluits did cease. Hereby was signified tumults, rebellions, Armes and ciuyll warres to folowe, as fel in the Realme of great Brittayne, which by the space of fiftie yeares and more continued in ciuyll warre betwene the Nobylytie after the death of king Gorboduc, & of his Issues, for wante
Scena prima.
Clotyn. Mandud. Gwenard. Fergus. Eubulus.Clotyn.
Did euer age bring forth such Tirants hartes
The Brother hath bereft the Brothers lyfe,
The Mother she hath died her cruell handes
In bloud of her owne sonne, and nowe at last
The people loe forgettyng trouthe and loue,
Contemnynge quite both Lawe and loyall harte
Euen they haue slayne their soueraigne Lord and Quene.
Mandud.
Shall this their trayterous crime vnpunished rest
Euen yet they cease not, caryed out with rage,
In their rebellious routes, to threaten stil
A newe bloode shedde vnto the Princes kinne
To slaie them all, and to vproote the race
Both of the kyng and Queene, so are they moued
With Porrex deathe, wherin they falsely charge
The giltles kinge without desarte at all
And traiterouslie haue murdered him therfore,
And eke the Queene.
Gwenard.
Shall Subiectes dare with force
To worke reuenge vpon their Princes facte?
Admyt the worst that maye: as sure in this
Shall yet the Subiecte seeke to take the sworde?
Arise agaynst his Lorde, and slaie his kynge?
O wretched state, where those rebellious hartes
Are not rent out euen from their lyuynge breasts
And with the bodie throwen vnto the Fowles
As Carrion foode, for terrour of the rest.
Fergus.
There can no punisshement be thought to greate
For this so greuous cryme: let spede therfore
Be vsed therin for it behoueth so.
Eubulus.
Ye all my Lordes I see consent in one
And I as one consent with ye in all:
I holde it more than nede with the sharpest Lawe
To punisshe the tumultuous bloodie rage
For nothynge more maye shake the cōmen state
Than sufferaunce of Uproares without redresse
Wherby how some kingdomes of mightie power
After great Conquestes made, and floorishing
In fame and wealth haue ben to ruyne brought
I praie to Ioue that we may rather wayle
Suche happe in them than witnes in our selues
Eke fullie with the Duke my minde agrees
That no cause serues, wherby the Subiect maye
Call to accompt the doynges of his Prince,
Muche lesse in bloode by sworde to worke reuenge
No more then maye the hande cut of the heade,
In Acte nor speache, no: not in secrete thoughte
The Subiect maye rebell against his Lorde
Or Iudge of him that sittes in Ceasars Seate.
Though kinges forget to gouerne as they ought,
Yet Subiectes must obey as they are bounde:
But nowe my Lordes before ye farder wade
Or spend your speach, what sharp reuenge shal fal
By iustice plague on these rebellious wights
Me thinkes ye rather should first searche the waye
By whiche in time the rage of this vproare
Mought be repressed, & these great tumults ceased
Euen yet the life of Brittayne Lande doth hange,
In Traitours Balaunce of vnegall weight
Thinke not my Lords the death of Gorboduc
Nor yet Videnaes bloode will cease their rage:
Euen our owne lyues, our wiues and children,
Our Countrey dearest of all in daunger standes,
Nowe to be spoiled, nowe, nowe made desolate,
And by our selues a conquest too ensue:
For geue ones sweye vnto the peoples lusts,
To russhe forth on, and staye them not in time,
And as the streame that rowleth downe the hyll,
So wil thei headlong ronne wt raging thoughtes
From bloode to bloode, from mischiefe vnto moe,
To ruyne of the Realme, them selues and all
So giddie are the cōmon peoples mindes,
So glad of chaunge, more waueryng than the Sea
Ye see (my Lordes) what strength these Rebelles haue,
What hugie nombre is assembled still,
For though the traiterous fact, for which thei rose
Be wrought and done, yt lodge thei still in fielde
So that howe farre their furies yet wyll stretche
Great cause we haue to dreade, that we may seeke
By present Battaile to represse their power.
For either they forthwith will mischiefe worke
Or their rebellious roares forthwith will cease:
These violent thinges may haue no lasting loude
Let vs therfore vse this for present helpe
Perswade by gentle speache, and offre grace
With gifte of pardon saue vnto the chiefe,
And that vpon condicion that forthewith
They yelde the Captaines of their enterpryse
To beare suche querdon of their traiterous facte
As may be both due vengeaunce to them selues,
And holsome terrour to posteritie.
This shall I thinke: flatter the greatest parte
That nowe are holden with desire of home,
Weried in fielde with could of Winters nightes,
And some (no doubt) striken with dread of Lawe
Whan this is ones proclaymed, it shall make
The Captaines to mistruste the multitude
Whose safetie biddes them to betraye their heads
And so muche more bycause the rascall routes,
In thinges of great and perillous attemptes,
Are neuer trustie to the noble race.
And while we treate & scande on termes of grace,
We shal both staie their furies rage the while,
And eke gaine time, whose onely helpe sufficeth
Withouten warre to vanquisshe Rebelles power
In the meane while, make you in redynes
Suche bande of Horsemen as ye maye prepare:
Horsemen (you know) are not the Comons strēgth
But are the force and store of noble men
Wherby the vnchosen and vnarmed sorte
But nombre makes to be of dreadfull force
With sodeyne brunt maye quickely be oppreste
And if this gentle meane of proffered grace
With stubborne hartes cannot so farre auayle
As to asswage their desperate courages.
Than do I wisshe suche slaughter to be made,
As present age and eke posteritie
Maye be adrad with horrour of reuenge,
That iustly than shall on these rebelles fall:
This is my Lordes the sōme of mine aduise.
Clotyn.
Neyther this case admittes debate at large,
And though it did: this speache that hath ben saide
Hath wel abridged the tale I would haue tolde:
Fullie with Eubulus do I consente
In all that he hath saide: and if the same
To you my Lordes, may seeme for best aduise,
I wisshe that it shoulde streight be put in vre.
Mandud.
My Lordes than let vs presentlie departe
And folowe this that lyketh vs so well.
Fergus.
If euer time to gaine a kingdome here
Were offred man, nowe it is offred mee:
The Realme is reft bothe of their kyng & Quene
The ofspringe of the Prince is slaine and dead
No issue nowe remaines, the Heire vnknowen,
The people are in Armes and mutynies
The Nobles thei are busied howe to cease
These great rebellious tumultes and vproars
Amyd these broyles vncertaine where to rest
Offers her selfe vnto that noble harte
That wyll or dare pursue to beare her Crowne:
Shall I that am the Duke of Albanye
Discended from that Lyne of noble bloode,
Whiche hath so longe floorisshed in worthie fame
Of valiaunt hartes, suche as in noble Breasts
Of right shulde rest aboue the baser sorte,
Refuse to aduenture liefe to winne a Crowne,
Whome shall I finde enemies that will wtstande
My facte herein, if I attempte by Armes
To seeke the Fame nowe in these times of broyle
These Dukes power can hardlie well appease
The people that alredie are in Armes.
But if perhappes my force be ones in fielde
Is not my strength in power aboue the best
Of all these Lordes nowe left in Brittaine Lande.
And though they shuld match me wt power of men
Yet doubtfull is the chaunce of Battailles ioyned
If Uictors of the fielde we may departe,
Ours is the Scepter than of great Brittayne,
If slayne amid the playne this body be
Mine enemies yet shall not deny me this,
But that I died gyuynge the noble charge
To hazarde life for conquest of a Crowne.
Forthwith therfore will I in poste depart
To Albanye and raise in Armour there
All power I can: and here my secrete friendes,
By secrete practise shall sollicite still,
To seeke to wynne to me the peoples hartes.
Scena secunda.
Eubulus. Clotyn. Mandud. Gwenard. Arostus Nuntius.Eubulus.
O Ioue , Howe are these peoples hartes abusde
what blind Furie, thus headlong caries thē?
That though so many bokes, so many rolles
Of Auncient time recorde what greuous plagues,
Light on these Rebelles aye and thoughe so ofte
Their eares haue hard their aged fathers tell
What iust rewarde these Traitours still receyue.
Yea though them selues haue sene depe death and blod
By strangling cord & slaughter of the sword
To suche assigned, yet can they not beware:
Yet can they not staie their rebellious handes,
But suffring to fowle treason to distaine
Their wretched myndes, forget their loyall harte,
Reiecte all trueth and rise against their Prince,
A ruthefull case that those, whome duties bounde
Whome grafted Lawe by nature trueth and faith
Bounde to preserue their Coūtrey and their king
Borne to defende their Cōmon wealth & Prince,
Euen they shulde geue consent thus to subuerte
The Brittaine Land, & from the wombe shuld bring
(O natyue soile) those, that will nedes destroye
And ruyne thee and eke them selues in fine:
For lo, when ones the Duke had offred Grace
Of pardon sweete (the multitude mislead
By traiterous fraude of their vngracious heades)
One sorte that sawe the daungerous successe
And knewe the difference of Princes power
From headles nombre of tumultuous routes,
Whom cōmen Countreies care and priuate feare
Taught to repent the terrour of their rage
Laide handes vpon the Capatines of their bande,
And brought them bound vnto the mightie Dukes
An other sorte not trusting yet so well
The trueth of Pardon or mistrusting more
Their owne offence than that thei could conceiue
Suche hope of pardon for so foule misdede:
Or for that they their Captaines could not yeld
Who fearinge to be yelded, flead before,
Stale home by scilence of the secrete night,
The thirde vnhappie and vnraged sorte
Of desperate harts, who stained in Princes blood
From trayterous furour could not be withdrawen
By loue, by lawe, by grace, ne yet by feare,
By proffered lyfe, ne yet by threatened Death,
With mindes hopeles of liefe, dreadles of Deathe,
Careles of Countrey, and aweles of God:
Stoode bente to fighte as Furies did them moue
With violent death to close their traiterous lyfe:
These all by power of Horsemen were opprest
And with reuenging sworde slayne in the fielde,
Or with the strangling Cord hanged on the trees
Where yet the carryen Carcases do proche
The fruites that Rebelles reape of their vproars,
And of the murder of their sacred Prince,
But loe, where do approche the noble Dukes,
By whom these tumults haue ben thus appeasde.
I thinke the worlde wyll now at length beware
And feare to put on armes agaynst their Prince.
Mandud.
If not: those trayterous hartes that dare rebell
Let them beholde the wide and hugie fieldes
With bloode & bodie spread with rebelles slayne,
The lustie trees clothed with corpses dead
That strangled with the corde do hange therin.
Arostus.
A iust rewarde suche as all tymes before
Haue euer lotted to those wretched folkes.
Gwenard.
But what meanes he that cōmeth here so fast.
Nuntius.
My Lords, as duetie and my trouth doth moue
And of my Countrey worke and care in mee
That if the spendynge of my breath auaile
To do the Seruice that my harte desires,
I would not shunne to imbrace a present death,
So haue I nowe in that wherein I thought
My trauayle mought perfourme some good effecte
Uentred my liefe to bringe these tydinges here.
Fergus the mightie Duke of Albanye
Is nowe in Armes and lodgeth in the fielde
With twentie thousand men, hether he bendes
His spedie marche, & minds to inuade the Crowne
Dayly he gathereth strength and spreads abrode
That to this Realme no certeine Heire remaines,
That Brittayne Lande is left without a guyde,
That he the Scepter seekes, for nothing els
Whiche now remaine as ship without a Sterne
Loe this is that whiche I haue hereto saide.
Clotyn.
Is this his fayth? and shall he falsely thus
Abuse the vauntage of vnhappie times?
O wretched Lande, if his outragious pride,
His cruell and vntempred wilfulnes
His deepe dissemblinge shewes of false pretence
Should once attaine the Crowne of Brittayn lande
Let vs my Lords, with tymely force resist
The newe attempt of this our cōmon foe
As we would quenche the flames of cōmen fire.
Mandud.
Though we remaine without a certayn Prince
To weld the Realme or guide the wandring rule
Yet nowe the cōmen Mother of vs all,
Our Natiue Lande, our Countrey that conteines
Our wiues, children, kyndred, our selues and all
That euer is or maye be deare to man
Cries vnto vs to helpe our selues and her:
Let vs aduaunce our powers to represse
This growynge foe of all our liberties.
Gwenard.
Yea let vs so my Lordes with hastie spede,
And ye (O Goddes) sende vs the welcome death,
To shed our bloode in fielde and leaue vs not,
In lothesome life to lenger out our lyues
To see the hugie heapes of these vnhappes,
That nowe roll downe vpon the wretched Lande
Where emptie place of Princelie gouernaunce
Thus leaue this guidelesse Realme an open pray,
To endlesse stormes and wast of ciuyll warre.
Arostus.
That ye (my Lordes) do so agree in one
To saue your Countrey from the violent reigne
And wrongfullie vsurped Tirrannie
Of him that threatens conquest of you all
To saue your realme, & in this realme your selues
From forreyne thraldome of so proude a Prince,
Muche do I praise, and I beseche the Goddes,
With happie honour to requite it you.
But (O my Lords) sithe now the Heauens wrath
Hath reft this Lande the issue of their Prince:
Sithe of the body of our late Soueraine Lorde
Remaines no mo, since the yong kinges be slaine
And of the Title of the discended Crowne,
Uncerteynly the diuerse mindes do thinke
Euen of the Learned sorte, and more vncertainlye
Will perciall fancie and affection deeme:
But most vncertenlye wyll clymbynge pride
And hope of Reigne withdrawe frō sondrie partes
The doubtfull right and hopefull lust to reigne.
When ones this noble seruice is atchieued
For Brittayne Lande the Mother of ye all,
When ones ye haue with armed force represt,
The proude attemptes of this Albanyan Prince,
That threatens thraldome to your Natiue Lande,
When ye shall vanquishers retourne from fielde
And finde the Princely state an open praye,
To gredie lust and to vsurping power,
Of auncient Honour of your auncestoures,
Of present wealth and noblesse of your stockes:
Yea of the lyues and safetie yet to come
Of your deare wyues, your children & your selues,
Might moue your noble hartes with gentle ruthe,
Then, then haue pytie on the torne estate,
Then helpe to salue the well neare hopeles sore
Whiche ye shall do, if ye your selues with holde
The sleayng knife from your own mothers throte
Her shall you saue, and you, and yours in her
If ye shall all with one assent forbeare
Ones to laye hande or take vnto your selues
The Crowne by colour of pretended right,
Or by what other meanes so euer it be
Tyll first by cōmen counsell of you all
In Parliament the Regall Diademe
Be set in certayne place of gouernaunce,
In whiche your Parliament and in your choise,
Preserve the right (my Lordes,) without respecte
Of strength of frendes, or what so euer cause
That maye set forwarde, any others parte,
For right will last, and wrong can not endure,
Right meane I his or hers, vpon whose name
The people rest by meane of Natiue lyne,
Or by the vertue of some former Lawe,
Alreadie made their title to aduaunce:
Suche one (my Lordes) let be your chosen kynge
Suche one so borne within your Natyue Lande
Suche one preferre, and in no wise admitte,
The heauie yoke of forreine gouernaunce,
And with that hart wherewith ye nowe prepare
Thus to withstande the proude inuadynge foe,
With that same harte (my Lordes) kepe out also
Unnaturall thraldome of straungers reigne,
Ne suffre you against the rules of kinde
Your Mother Lande to serue a Forreine Prince.
Eubulus.
Loe here the ende of Brutus royall Lyne,
And loe the entrie to the wofull wracke
And vtter ruyne of this noble Realme.
The royall kinge, and eke his sonnes are slaine,
No Ruler restes within the Regall Seate:
The Heire, to whō the Scepter longs, vnknowen
That to eche force of Forreine Princes power
Whome vauntage of your wretched state
By sodaine Armes to gaine so riche a Realme
And to the proude and gredie minde at home
Whom blinded lust to reigne leades to aspire.
Loe Brittaine Realme is left an open praye,
A present spoile by Conquest to ensue,
Who seeth not nowe howe many risyng mindes
Do feede their thoughts, wt hope to reach a Realm
And who will not by force attempt to winne
So great a gaine that hope perswades to haue:
A simple colour shall for title serue.
Who winnes the Royal crown wil want no right
Nor suche as shall displaye by longe discent
A lyneall race to proue him selfe a kynge,
In the meane while these ciuyll armes shall rage,
And thus a thousande mischiefes shall vnfolde
All right and Lawe shall cease, and he that had
Nothyng to daye, to morowe shall enioye
Great heapes of good, & he that flowed in wealth,
Loe he shall be reft of lyfe and all,
And happiest he that than possesseth least.
The wyues shall suffre rape, the maydes defloured
And children fatherles shall weepe and wayle:
With fire & sworde thy Natiue folke shal perisshe.
One kinsman shall bereaue an other life,
The father shall vnwittynge slaye the sonne,
The sonne shall slea the sire and knowe it not:
Women and maides the cruell Souldiours sword
Shall perse to death, and sillie children loe
That playinge in the streates & fieldes are founde
By violent hande shall close their latter daye.
Whome shall the ferce and bloudie Souldiour
Reserue to liefe, whome shall he spare from death
Euen thou (O wretched mother) half alyue
Thou shalt beholde thy deare and onely childe
Slaine wt the sworde while he yet suckes thy brest:
Loe, giltles bloode shall thus eche where be shed:
Thus shall the wasted soile yelde forth no fruite
But derth and famyne shal possesse the Lande.
The Townes shal be consumed & brent with fire,
The peopled Cities shall waxe desolate,
And thou (O Brittaine Land) whilom in renowme
Whilome in wealth and fame shalt thus be torne,
Dismembred thus, and thus be rent in twayne,
Thus wasted and defaced, spoiled and destroied:
These be the fruits your ciuill warres wil bring.
To graue aduise, but folow wilfull wyll:
This is the ende, when in yonge Princes hartes
Flattery preuayles, and sage rede hath no place:
These are the plages, when murder is the meane
To make newe Heires vnto the Royall Crowne.
Thus wreke the Gods, whē yt the mothers wrath
Nought but ye blood of her owne child may swage.
These mischiefes springs whē Rebelles wil arise,
To worke reuenge and iudge their Princes facte:
This, this ensues when noble men do faile
In loyall trouthe, and subiectes will be kinges.
And this doth growe when loe vnto the Prince,
Whome death or sodeyne happe of liefe bereaues,
No certayne Heire remaines, suche certentie
As not all onely is the rightfull Heire,
But to the Realme is so made vnknowen to be
And trouth therby vested in Subiectes hartes,
To owe faith there, where right is knowen to rest
Alas, in Parliament what hope can bee,
When is of Parliament no hope at all,
Whiche thoughe it be assembled by consent,
Yet is it not likely with consent to ende:
While eche one for him selfe, or for his frende
Against his foe, shall trauaile what he maye,
While nowe the state left open to the man,
That shall with greatest force inuade the same,
Shall fill ambicious minds with gapynge hope:
When will they ones with yelding harts agree?
Or in the while, howe shall the Realme be vsed?
No, no: then Parliament should haue ben holden
To staie their title of establisshed righte:
And plant the people in obedience
While yet the Prince did liue, whose name and power
By lawfull Sōmons and auctorytie
Might make a Parliament to be of force,
And might haue set the state in quiet staye:
But nowe (O happie man) whome spedie death
Depriues of lyfe, ne is enforced to see
These hugie mischiefes and these miseries,
These ciuyll wars, these murders & these wrongs
Of Iustice, yet must Ioue in fyne restore
This noble Crowne vnto the lawfull Heire:
For right will alwayes liue, and rise at lengthe,
But wronge can neuer take deepe roote to last.
The ende of the Tagedie of Kynge Gorboduc.
| The Tragedie of Gorbodvc | |