 | The Birth of Merlin : or, The Childe hath found his Father |  |
Act. 5.
Scene. 1.
Thunder, then Musick.Enter Joan fearfully, the Devil following her.
Joan.
Hence thou black horror, is thy lustful fire kindled agen?
not thy loud throated thunder, nor thy adulterate infernal
Musick, shall e're bewitch me more, oh too too much is past
already.
Devil.
Why dost thou fly me? I come a Lover to thee,
to imbrace, and gently twine thy body in mine arms.
Joan.
Out thou Hell-hound.
Devil.
What hound so e're I be,
Fawning and sporting as I would with thee,
why should I not be stroakt and plaid withal, will't thou not thank
the Lion might devour thee, if he shall let thee pass?
Joan.
Yes, thou art he, free me, and Ile thank thee.
Devil.
Why, whither wouldst? I am at home with thee, thou
art mine own, have we not charge of family together, where is
your son?
Joan.
Oh darkness cover me.
Devil.
There is a pride which thou hast won by me, the mother
of a fame shall never die, Kings shall have need of written
Chronicles, to keep their names alive, but Merlin none, ages to
ages shall like Sabalists
While there are tongues and times to tell his story.
Joan.
Oh rot my memory before my flesh, let him be called
some hell or earth-bred monster, that ne're had hapless woman for
a mother: sweet death deliver me, hence from my sight, why
shouldst thou now appear? I had no pride nor lustful thought about
me, to conjure and call thee to my ruine, when as at first thy cursed
person became visible.
Devil.
I am the same I was.
Joan.
But I am chang'd.
Devil.
Agen Ile change thee to
the same thou wert, quench to my lust, come forth by thunder led,
my Coajutors in the spoils of mortals.
Thunder.
Claspe in your Ebon arms that prize of mine, mount her as high as
palled Hecate, and on this rock Ile stand to cast up fumes and
darkness o're the blew fac'd firmament; from Brittain, and from
Merlin, Ile remove her, they ne're shall meet agen.
Joan.
Help me some saving hand, if not too late, I cry let mercy
come.
Enter Merlin.
Mer.
Stay you black slaves of night, let loose your hold, set her
down safe, or by th'infernal Stix, Ile binde you up with exorcisms so
strong, that all the black pentagoron of hell, shall ne're release
you, save you selves and vanish.
Exit Spirit.
Devil,
Ha! What's he?
Mer.
The Childe has found his Father,
do you not know me?
Devil.
Merlin!
Joan.
Oh, help
me gentle son.
Mer.
Fear not, they shall not hurt you.
Devil.
Relievest thou her to disobey thy father?
Mer.
Obedience is no lesson in your school, nature and kind to
her, commands my duty, the part that you begot was against kinde,
so all I ow to you is to be unkind.
Devil.
Ile blast thee slave
to death, and on this rock stick thee an eternal Monument.
Mer.
Ha, ha, thy powers too weak, what art thou devil, but
an inferior lustful Incubus, taking advantage of the wanton flesh,
wherewith thou dost beguile the ignorant? put off the form of thy
humanity, and cral upon thy speckled belly, serpent, or Ile unclasp
the jaws of Achoron, and fix thee ever in the local fire.
Devil.
Traitor to hell; curse that I e're begot thee.
Mer.
Thou didst beget thy scourge, storm not, nor stir, the
power of Merlins Art is all confirm'd in the Fates decretals,—Ile
ransack hell, and make thy
[Thunder and Lighting in the Rock.
masters bow unto my spells, thou first shall taste it,—Tenibrarum
precis, devitiarum, & infirorum, Deus, hunc Incubum in ignis eterni abisum,
accipite aut in hoc carcere tenebroso, in sempeternum astringere
mando.
[the Rock incloses him.]
So, there beget earthquakes or some noisom damps, for never
shalt thou touch a woman more: How chear you mother?
Joan.
Oh now my son is my deliverer, yet I must name him
with my deepest sorrow.
Alarum afar off.
Mer.
Take comfort now, past times are ne're recal'd;
I did foresee your mischief and prevent it: hark, how the sounds
against the Saxons, from whose aid Merlin must not be absent: leave
this soyl, and Ile conduct you to a place retir'd, which I by art
have rais'd, call'd Merlins Bower, there shall you dwell with solitary
sighs, with grones and passions your companions, to weep away
this flesh you have offended with, and leave all bare unto your
aierial soul, and when you die, I will erect a Monument upon the
verdant Plains of Salisbury, no King shall have so high a sepulchre,
with pendulous stones that I will hang by art, where neither Lime
nor Morter shalbe us'd, a dark Enigma to the memory, for none
shall have the power to number them, a place that I will hollow
for your rest,
Where no Night-hag shall walk, nor Ware-wolf tread,
Where Merlins Mother shall be sepulcher'd.
Exeunt.
Enter Donobert, Gloster and Hermit.
Dono.
Sincerely Gloster, I have told you all: My Daughters are
both vow'd to Single Life, and this day gone unto the Nunnery,
though I begot them to another end, and fairly promis'd them in
Marriage, one to Earl Cador, t'other to your son, my worthy
friend, the Earl of Gloster. Those lost, I am lost: they are lost,
all's lost. Answer me this then, Ist a sin to marry?
Hermit.
Oh no, my Lord.
Dono.
Go to then, Ile go no further with you, I perswade you
to no ill, perswade you then that I perswade you well.
Gloster.
'Twill be a good Office in you, sir.
Enter Cador and Edwin.
Dono.
Which since they thus neglect, my memory shall lose
them now for ever. See, see the Noble Lords, their promis'd
Husbands! had Fate so pleas'd, you might have call'd me Father.
Edwin.
Those hopes are past, my Lord, for even this minute
we saw them both enter the Monastery, secluded from the world
and men for ever.
Cador.
'Tis both our griefs we cannot, Sir: but from the King
take you the Times joy from us; The Saxon King Ostorius slain,
and Octa fled, that Woman-fury, Queen Artesia, is fast in hold,
and forc't to re-deliver London and Winchester (which she had fortifi'd)
to Princely Uter, lately styl'd Pendragon, who now triumphantly
is marching hither to be invested with the Brittain Crown.
The joy of this, shall banish from my breast all thought
that I was Father to two Children, two stubborn Daughters, that
have left me thus: Let my old arms embrace, and call you Sons;
for by the Honor of my Fathers House, I'le part my estate most
equally betwixt you.
Edwin., Cador.
Sir, y'are most noble!
Flor. Tromp. Enter Edol with Drum and Colours, Oswold bearing the Standard, Toclio the Sheild, with the Red Dragon pictur'd in 'em, two Bishops with the Crown, Prince Uter, Merlin, Artesia bound, Guard and Clown.
Prince.
Set up our Sheild and Standard, noble Soldiers,
We have firm hope that tho' our Dragon sleep,
Merlin will us and our fair Kingdom keep.
Clown.
As his Uncle lives, I warrant you.
Glost.
Happy Restorer
of the Brittains fame, uprising Sun let us salute thy glory,
ride in a day perpetual about us, and no night be in thy thrones zodiack,
why do we stay to binde those Princely browes with this
Imperial Honor?
Prince.
Stay noble Gloster, that monster first
must be expel'd our eye, or we shall take no joy in it.
Dono.
If that be hindrance, give her quick Judgement, and send
her hence to death, she has long deserv'd it.
Edol.
Let my Sentence stand for all, take her hence, and stake
her carcase in the burning Sun, till it be parcht and dry, and then
fley off her wicked skin, and stuff the pelt with straw to be shown
up and down at Fairs and Markets, two pence a piece to see so
foul a Monster, will be a fair Monopoly and worth the begging.
Artes.
Ha, ha, ha.
Edol.
Dost laugh Erictho?
Artes.
Yes, at thy poor invention, is there no better, torture-monger?
Dono.
Burn her to dust.
Artes.
That's a Phænix
death, and glorious.
Edol.
I, that's to good for her.
Prince.
Alive she shall be buried circled in a wall, thou murdress
of a King, there starve to death.
Artes.
Then Ile starve death when he comes for his prey, and
i'th'mean time Ile live upon your curses.
Edol.
I, 'tis diet good enough, away with her.
Artes.
With joy, my best of wishes is before,
Thy brother's poison'd, but I wanted more.
Exit.
Why does our Prophet Merlin stand apart, sadly observing
these our Ceremonies, and not applaud our joys with thy hid
knowledge? Let thy divining Art now satisfie some part of my desires;
for well I know 'tis in thy power to show the full event, that
shall both end our Reign and Chronicle: speak learned Merlin, and
resolve my fears, whether by war we shall expel the Saxons, or
govern what we hold with beauteous peace in Wales and Brittain?
Mer.
Long happiness attend Pendragons Reign, what Heaven
decrees, fate hath no power to alter: The Saxons, sir, will keep the
ground they have, and by supplying numbers still incease, till Brittain
be no more. So please your Grace, I will in visible apparitions,
present you Prophecies which shall concern
Till men shall call these times the latter days.
Prince.
Do it my Merlin, and Crown me with much joy and
wonder.
Merlin strikes
Hoeboys. Enter a King in Armour, his Sheild quarter'd with thirteen Crowns. At the other door enter divers Princes who present their Crowns to him at his feet, and do him homage, then enters Death and strikes him, he growing sick, Crowns Constantine.
Exeunt.
Mer.
This King, my Lord, presents your Royal Son, who in his
prime of years shall be so fortunate, that thirteen several Princes,
shall present their several Crowns unto him, and all Kings else
shall so admire his fame and victories, that they shall all be glad either
through fear or love, to do him homage; But death (who
neither favors the weak nor valliant) in the middest of all his
glories, soon shall seize him, scarcely permitting him to appoint one
in all his purchased Kingdoms to succeed him.
Prince.
Thanks to our Prophet for this so wish'd for satisfaction,
and hereby now we learn that always Fate must be observ'd, what
ever that decree,
Of Merlin's learned worth, and Arthur's glory.
Exeunt Omnes.
| The Birth of Merlin : or, The Childe hath found his Father | |