 | The Birth of Merlin : or, The Childe hath found his Father |  |
Act. 3.
Scene 1.
Enter Clown and his Sister.Clown.
Come sister, thou that art all fool, all mad-woman.
Joan.
Prithee have patience, we are now at Court.
Clown.
At Court! ha, ha, that proves thy madness, was there
ever any woman in thy taking travel'd to Court for a husband?
'slid, 'tis enough for them to get children, and the City to keep 'em,
and the Countrey to finde Nurses: every thing must be done in his
due place, sister.
Joan.
Be but content a while, for sure I
know this Journey will be happy. Oh dear brother, this night my
sweet Friend came to comfort me, I saw him, and embrac't him in
mine arms.
Clown.
Why did you not hold him, and call me
to help you?
Joan.
Alas, I thought I had been with him
still, but when I wak't!
Clown.
Ah pox of all Loger-heads,
then you were but in a Dream all this while, and we may still go
look him: Well, since we are come to Court, cast your Cats eyes
about you, and either finde him out you dreamt on, or some other,
Ent. Dono. Cador, Edw. & Toclio
See, see, here comes more Courtiers, look about you, come, pray
view 'em all well; the old man has none of the marks about him,
the other have both Swords and Feathers: what thinkest thou of
that tall-yong Gentleman?
Joan.
He much resembles him;
but sure my friend, brother, was not so high of stature.
Clown.
Oh beast, wast thou got a childe with a short thing too?
Dono.
Come, come, Ile hear no more on't: Go Lord Edwin, tell
her this day her sister shall be married to Cador Earl of Cornwal, so
shall she to thee brave Edwin, if she'l have my blessing.
Edwin.
She is addicted to a single Life, she will not hear of Marriage.
Dono.
Tush, fear it not: go you from me to her, use
your best skill my Lord, and if you fail, I have a trick shall do it:
haste, haste about it.
Edwin.
Sir, I am gone, my hope is in
your help more then my own.
Dono.
And worthy Toclio, to
your care I must commend this business, for Lights and Musick, and
what else is needful.
Toclio.
I shall my Lord.
Clown.
We
would intreat a word sir, come forward sister.
Ex. Dono. Toc. Cador.
Edwin.
What lackst thou fellow?
Clown.
I lack a father
for a childe, sir.
Edwin.
How! a God-father?
Clown.
No
sir, we mean the own father: it may be you sir, for any thing we
know, I think the childe is like you.
Edwin.
Like me! prithee
where is it?
Clown.
Nay, 'tis not born yet sir, 'tis forth
coming you see, the childe must have a father: what do you think
of my sister?
Edwin.
Why I think if she ne're had husband
she's a whore, and thou a fool, farewel.
Exit.
Clown.
I thank you sir: well, pull up thy heart sister, if there be
any Law i'th Court this fellow shall father it, 'cause he uses me so
scurvily. There's a great Wedding towards they say, we'l amongst
them for a husband for thee.
Enter Sir Nicodemus with a Letter.
If we miss there, Ile have another bout with him that abus'd me.
See! look, there comes another Hat and Feather, this should be a
close Letcher, he's reading of a Love-letter.
Sir Nic.
Earl Cador's
Marriage, and a Masque to grace it, so, so. This night shall make
me famous for Presentments. How now, what are you?
Clown.
A couple of Great Brittains, you may see by our bellies, sir.
Sir Nic.
And what of this sir?
Clown.
Why thus the matter
a Gap through another mans Inclosure. Now sir, here's the question,
who should be at charge of a Fur-bush to stop it?
Sir Nic.
Ha, ha, this is out of my element: the Law must end it.
Clown.
Your Worship says well; for surely I think some Lawyer
had a hand in the business, we have such a troublesom Issue.
Sir Nic.
But what's thy business with me now?
Clown.
Nay
sir, the business is done already, you may see by my sisters belly.
Sir Nic.
Oh, now I finde thee, this Gentlewoman it seems has
been humbled.
Clown.
As low as the ground would give her
leave sir, and your Worship knows this: though there be many fathers
without children, yet to have a childe without a father, were
most unnatural.
Sir Nic.
That's true ifaith, I never heard of
a childe yet that e're begot his father.
Clown.
Why true, you
say wisely sir.
Sir Nic.
And therefore I conclude, that he that
got the childe, is without all question the father of it.
Clown.
I, now you come to the matter sir: and our suit is to
your Worship for the discovery of this father.
Sir Nic.
Why,
lives he in the Court here?
Joan.
Yes sir, and I desire but
Marriage.
Sir Nic.
And does the knave refuse it? Come,
come, be merry wench, he shall marry thee, and keep the childe
too, if my Knighthood can do any thing; I am bound by mine Orders
to help distressed Ladies, and can there be a greater injury to
a woman with childe, then to lack a father for't? I am asham'd of
your simpleness: Come, come, give me a Courtiers Fee for my
pains, and Ile be thy Advocate my self, and justice shall be found,
nay Ile sue the Law for it; but give me my Fee first.
Clown.
If all the money I have i'th world will do it, you shall
have it sir.
Sir Nic.
An Angel does it.
Clown.
Nay
there's two, for your better eye sight sir.
Sir Nic.
Why well
said: give me thy hand wench, Ile teach thee a trick for all this,
shall get a father for thy childe presently, and this it is, mark now:
You meet a man, as you meet me now, thou claimest Marriage of
me, and layest the childe to my charge, I deny it: push, that's nothing,
hold thy Claim fast, thy words carries it, and no Law can
withstand it.
Clown.
Ist possible?
Sir Nic.
Past all opposition, her own word carries it, let her
challenge any man, the childe shall call him Father; there's a trick
Clown.
Troth Sir, we thank you, we'l
make use of your trick, and go no further to seek the childe a Father,
for we challenge you Sir: sister lay it to him, he shall marry
thee, I shall have a worshipful old man to my brother.
Sir Nic.
Ha, ha, I like thy pleasantness,
Joan.
Nay indeed
Sir, I do challenge you.
Clown.
You think we jest sir.
Sir Nic.
I by my troth do I, I like thy wit yfaith, thou shalt live
at Court with me, didst never here of Nicodemus Nothing? I am the
man.
Clown.
Nothing, 'slid we are out agen, thou wast never
got with childe with nothing sure.
Joan.
I know not what
to say.
Sir Nic.
Never grieve wench, show me the man and
process shall fly out.
Clown.
'Tis enough for us to finde the
children, we look that you should finde the Father, and therefore
either do us justice, or we'l stand to our first challenge.
Sir Nic.
Would you have justice without an Adversary, unless
you can show me the man, I can do you no good in it.
Clown.
Why then I hope you'l do us no harm sir, you'l restore
my money.
Sir Nic.
What, my Fee? marry Law forbid it,
finde out the party, and you shall have justice, your fault clos'd up,
and all shall be amended, the Childe his Father, and the Law ended.
Exit.
Clown.
Well, he has deserv'd his Fee indeed,
for he has brought our suit to a quick end, I promise you, and yet
the Childe has never a Father; nor we have no more mony to seek
after him, a shame of all lecherous placcats; now you look like a
Cat had newly kitten'd, what will you do now tro? Follow me no
further, lest I beat your brains out.
Joan.
Impose upon me
any punishment, rather then leave me now.
Clown.
Well, I think I am bewitch with thee, I cannot finde in
my heart to forsake her, there was never sister would have abus'd
a poor brother as thou hast done, I am even pin'd away with fretting,
there's nothing but flesh and bones about me, well and I had
my money agen, it were some comfort, hark sister,
Thunder.
does it not thunder?
Joan.
Oh yes, most fearfully, what shall
we do brother?
Clown.
Marry e'ene get some shelter e're the
storm catch us: away, let's away I prithee.
Enter the Devil in mans habit, richly attir'd, his feet and his head horrid.
Joan.
Ha, 'tis he, stay brother, dear brother stay.
Clown.
What's the matter now?
Joan.
My love, my
Clown.
Where, where,
show me where, I'le stop him if the devil be not in him.
Joan.
Look there, look yonder, oh dear friend, pity my distress,
for heaven and goodness do but speak to me.
Devil.
She calls me, and yet drives me headlong from her,
Poor mortal, thou and I are much uneven,
Thou must not speak of goodness nor of heaven,
if I confer with thee: but be of comfort, whilst men do breath, and
Britiains name be known,
The fatal fruit thou bear'st within thy womb,
Shall here be famous till the day of doom.
Clown.
'Slid who's that talks so? I can see no body.
Joan.
Then art thou blind, or mad, see where he goes, and
beckons me to come, oh lead me forth, I'le follow thee in spight
of fear or death.
Exit.
Clown.
Oh brave, she'l run to the devil for a husband, she's
stark mad sure, and talks to a shaddow, for I could see no substance:
well, I'le after her, the childe was got by chance, and the father
must be found at all adventure.
Exit.
Enter Hermit, Modesta, and Edwin.
Modesta.
Oh reverent sir, by you my heart hath reacht at the
large hopes of holy Piety, and for this I craved your company,
My chaste thoughts up to heaven, and make you now
the witness of my faith.
Her.
Angels assist thy hopes.
Edwin.
What meanes my Love? thou art my promis'd wife.
Modest.
To part with willingly what friends and life
Can make no good assurance of.
Edwin.
Oh finde remorse,
fair soul, to love and merit, and yet recant thy vow.
Modest.
Never: this world and I are parted now for ever.
Her.
To finde the way to bliss, oh happy woman,
Th'ast learn'd the hardest Lesson well I see,
Now show thy fortitude and constancy,
Let these thy friends thy sad departure weep,
Thou shalt but loose the wealth thou could'st not keep,
My contemplation calls me, I must leave ye,
Edwin.
O reverent Sir, perswade not her to leave me,
Her.
My Lord I do not, nor to cease to love ye,
Marriage was blest I know with heavens own hand.
Exit.
Edwin.
You hear him Lady, 'tis not a virgins state but sanctity
of life, must make you happy.
Modest.
Good sir, you say you
love me, gentle Edwin, even by that love I do beseech you leave me.
Edwin.
Think of your fathers tears, your weeping friends whom
cruel grief makes pale and bloodless for you.
Modest.
Would I were dead to all.
Edwin.
Why do you weep?
Modest.
Oh who would live to see
How men with care and cost, seek misery.
Edwin.
Why do you seek it then? What joy, what pleasure,
can give you comfort in a single life?
Modest.
The contemplation
of a happy death, which is to me so pleasing that I think
no torture could divert me: What's this world wherein you'd
have me walk, but a sad passage to a dread Judgement-Seat, from
whence even now we are but bail'd, upon our good abearing, till
that great Sessions come, when Death, the Cryer, will surely summon
us, and all to appear, to plead us guilty or our bail to clear:
what musick's this?
Soft Musick.
Enter two Bishops, Edwin, Donobert, Gloster, Cador, Constancia, Oswold, Toclio.
Edwin.
Oh now resolve and think upon my love, this sounds
the Marriage of your beauteous sister, vertuous Constancia, with
the noble Cador, look, and behold this pleasure.
Modest.
Cover me with night,
It is a vanity not worth the sight.
Dono.
See, see, she's yonder, pass on son Cador. Daughter Constancia,
I beseech you all unless she first move speech, salute her
not. Edwin what good success?
Edwin.
Nothing as yet, unless this object take her.
Dono.
See, see, her eye is fixt upon her sister,
seem careless all, and take no notice of her: on afore there, come
my Constancia.
Modest.
Not speak to me, nor dain to cast an eye,
To look on my despised poverty?
I must be more charitable, pray stay Lady, are not you she whom I
did once call sister?
Constan.
I did acknowledge such a name
to one whilst she was worthy of it, in whose folly
In you I drown'd a sisters name for ever.
Modest.
Your looks did speak no less.
Glost.
It now begins
to work, this sight has moved her.
Dono.
I know this
trick would take, or nothing.
Modest.
Though you disdain in me
a sisters name, yet charity me thinks should be so strong to instruct
e're you reject, I am a wretch even follies instance, who perhaps
have er'd, not having known the goodness bears so high and fair a
show in you, which being exprest
And please those friends whom I mov'd to grief.
Cador.
She is coming yfaith, be merry Edwin.
Consta.
Since you desire instruction you shall have it, what ist
should make you thus desire to live vow'd to a single life?
Modest.
Because I know I cannot flie from death, oh my good
sister, I beseech you hear me,
With what is not our selves but our disguise,
A Vizard that falls off, the Dance being done,
And leaves Deaths Glass for all to look upon,
Our best happiness here, lasts but a night,
Whose burning Tapers makes false Ware seem right;
Who knows not this, and will not now provide
Some better shift before his shame be spy'd,
And knowing this vain world at last will leave him,
Shake off these robes that help but to deceive him.
Const.
Her words are powerful, I am amaz'd to hear her!
Dono.
Her soul's inchanted with infected Spells.
Leave her best Girl, for now in thee
Ile seek the fruits of Age, Posterity.
Out o'my sight; sure I was half asleep, or drunk, when I begot thee.
Const.
Good sir forbear. What say you to that sister?
The joy of children, a blest Mothers Name!
Oh who without much grief can loose such Fame?
Modest.
Who can enjoy it without sorrow rather?
And that most certain where the joy's unsure,
Seeing the fruit that we beget endure
So many miseries, that oft we pray
At best we do but bring forth Heirs to die,
And fill the Coffins of our enemy.
Const.
Oh my soul.
Dono.
Hear her no more Constantia,
she's sure bewitcht with Error, leave her Girl.
Const.
Then
must I leave all goodness sir: away, stand off, I say.
Dono.
How's this?
Const.
I have no father, friend, no husband
now, all are but borrowed robes, in which we masque to waste
and spend the time, when all our Life is but one good betwixt two
Ague-days, which from the first, e're we have time to praise, a second
Fever takes us: Oh my best sister, my souls eternal friend,
forgive the rashness of my distemper'd tongue, for how could she
knew not her self, know thy felicity, from which worlds cannot
now remove me.
Dono.
Art thou mad too, fond woman?
what's thy meaning?
Const.
To seek eternal happiness in heaven,
which all this world affords not.
Cador.
Think of thy
Vow, thou art my promis'd Wife.
Const.
Pray trouble me no
further.
Omnes.
Strange alteration!
Cador.
Why do you
stand at gaze, you sacred Priests? you holy men be equal to the
Gods, and consummate my Marriage with this woman.
Bishop.
Her self gives barr my Lord, to your desires, and our
performance; 'tis against the Law and Orders of the Church to
force a Marriage.
Cador.
How am I wrong'd! was this your
trick, my Lord?
Dono.
I am abus'd past sufferance; grief
and amazement strive which Sense of mine shall loose her being
first; yet let me call thee Daughter.
Cador.
Me, Wife.
Const.
Your words are air, you speak of want, to wealth,
And wish her sickness, newly rais'd to health.
Dono.
Bewitched Girls, tempt not an old mans fury, that hath
no strength to uphold his feeble age, but what your sights give life
to, oh beware, and do not make me curse you.
Kneel. Modest.
Dear father, here at your feet we kneel, grant us
but this, that in your sight and hearing the good Hermit may plead
our Cause; which if it shall not give such satisfaction as your Age
desires, we will submit to you.
Const.
You gave us life, save
not our bodies, but our souls from death.
Dono.
This gives some
comfort yet: Rise with my blessings. Have patience, noble Cador,
worthy Edwin, send for the Hermit that we may confer, for sure
Your careful Father thus; if so it be,
Take you content, and give all grief to me.
Exeunt.
Thunder and Lightning, Enter Devil.
Devil.
Mix light and darkness, earth and heaven dissolve, be of
one piece agen, and turn to Chaos, break all your works you powers,
and spoil the world, or if you will maintain earth still, give
way and life to this abortive birth now coming, whose fame shall
add unto your Oracles. Lucina, Hecate, dreadful Queen of Night,
bright Proserpine, be pleas'd for Ceres love, from Stigian darkness,
summon up the Fates,
Lest death do vent her birth and her together,
Thunder
Assist you spirits of infernal deeps, squint ey'd Erictho, midinght Incubus.
Enter Lucina, and the three Fates.
Rise, rise to aid this birth prodigious. Thanks Hecate, hail sister
to the Gods, there lies your way, haste with the Fates, and help,
give quick dispatch unto her laboring throws, to bring this mixture
of Infernal seed, to humane being,
And to beguil her pains, till back you come,
Anticks shall dance and Musick fill the room.
Dance.
Devil.
Thanks Queen of Shades.
Lucina.
Farewel, great servant to th'infernal King,
In honor of this childe, the Fates shall bring
All their assisting powers of Knowledge, Arts,
Learning, Wisdom, all the hidden parts
Of all-admiring Prophecy, to fore-see
The event of times to come, his Art shall stand
A wall of brass to guard the Brittain Land,
Even from this minute, all his Arts appears
Manlike in Judgement, Person, State, and years,
Upon his brest the Fates have fixt his name,
And since his birth place was this forrest here,
They now have nam'd him Merlin Silvester.
Devil.
And Merlins name in Brittain shall live,
Whilst men inhabit here, or Fates can give
Power to amazing wonder, envy shall weep,
And mischief sit and shake her ebbone wings,
Exit.
Enter Clown.
Clown.
Well, I wonder how my poor sister does, after all this
thundering, I think she's dead, for I can hear no tidings of her,
those woods yields small comfort for her, I could meet nothing but
a swinherds wife, keeping hogs by the Forestside, but neither she not
none of her sowes would stir a foot to help us; indeed I think she
durst not trust her self amongst the trees with me, for I must needs
confess I offer'd some kindness to her; well, I would fain know
what's become of my sister, if she have brought me a yong Cousin,
his face may be a picture to finde his Father by, so oh, sister Joan,
Joan Go-too't, where art thou?
Within Joan.
Here, here brother,
stay but a while, I come to thee.
Clown.
O brave, she's alive
still, I know her voice, she speaks, and speaks cherfully methinks,
how now, what Moon-calf has she got with her?
Enter Joan and Merlin with a Book.
Joan.
Come my dear Merlin, why dost thou fix thine eye so
deeply on that book?
Merlin.
To sound the depth of Arts, of
Learning, Wisdom, Knowledge.
Joan.
Oh my dear, dear son,
those studies fits thee when thou art a man.
Merlin.
Why mother, I can be but half a man at best,
And that is your mortality, the rest
In me is spirit, 'tis not meat, nor time,
That gives this growth and bigness, no, my years
Shall be more strange then yet my birth appears,
Look mother, there's my Uncle.
Joan.
How doest thou know
him son, thou never saw'st him?
Merlin.
Yet I know him,
and know the pains he has taken for ye, to finde out my Father,
give me your hand, good Uncle.
Clown.
Ha, ha, I'de laugh
at that yfaith, do you know me sir?
Merlin.
Yes, by the same
token that even now you kist the swinherds-wife i'th'woods, and
would have done more, if she would have let you, Uncle.
Clown.
A witch, a witch, a witch, sister: rid him out of your company,
he is either a witch or a conjurer, he could never have
known this else.
Joan.
Pray love him brother, he is my son.
Clown.
Ha, ha, this is worse then all the rest yfaith, by his
beard he is more like your husband: let me see, is your great belly
gone?
Joan.
Yes, and this the happy fruit.
What, this Hartichoke? A Childe born with a beard on
his face?
Merlin.
Yes, and strong legs to go, and teeth to eat.
Clown.
You can nurse up your self then? There's some charges
sav'd for Soap and Candle, 'slid I have heard of some that has been
born with teeth, but never none with such a talking tongue before?
Joan.
Come, come, you must use him kindly brother, did you
but know his worth, you would make much of him.
Clown.
Make
much of a Moncky? This is worse then Tom Thumb, that let a fart
in his Mothers belly, a Childe to speak, eat, and go the first hour
of his birth, nay, such a Baby as had need of a Barber before he
was born too; why sister this is monstrous, and shames all our
kindred.
Joan.
That thus 'gainst nature and our common births,
he comes thus furnisht to salute the world, is power of Fates, and
gift of his great father.
Clown.
Why, of what profession is
your father sir?
Merlin.
He keeps a Hot-house i'th'Low Countries,
will you see him sir?
Clown.
See him, why sister has the
childe found his father?
Mer.
Yes, and Ile fetch him Uncle.
Exit.
Clown.
Do not Uncle me, till I know your kindred, for my
conscience some Baboon begot thee, surely thou art horribly deceived
sister, this Urchin cannot be of thy breeding, I shall be asham'd
to call him cousin, though his father be a Gentleman.
Enter Merlin and Devil.
Merlin.
Now my kinde Uncle see,
The Childe has found his Father, this is he.
Clown.
The devil it is, ha, ha, is this your sweet-heart sister? have
we run through the Countrey, haunted the City, and examin'd the
Court to finde out a Gallant with a Hat and Feather, and a silken
Sword, and golden Hangers, and do you now bring me to a Ragamuffin
with a face like a Frying-pan?
Joan.
Fie brother, you
mistake, behold him better.
Clown.
How's this? do you juggle
with me, or are mine eyes matches? Hat and Feather, Sword, and
Hangers and all, this is a Gallant indeed sister, this has all the
marks of him we look for.
Devil.
And you have found him now sir: give me your hand, I
now must call you brother.
Clown.
Not till you have married
my sister, for all this while she's but your whore, sir.
Devil.
Thou art too plain, Ile satisfie that wrong to her, and
thee, and all, with liberal hand: come, why art thou fearful?
Nay I am not afraid, and you were the devil, sir.
Devil.
Thou needst not, keep with thy sister still, and Ile supply
your wants, you shall lack nothing that gold and wealth can
purchase.
Clown.
Thank you brother, we have gone many
a weary step to finde you; you may be a husband for a Lady, for
you are far fetcht and dear bought, I assure you: Pray how should
I call your son, my cousin here?
Devil.
His name is Merlin.
Clown.
Merlin! Your hand, cousin Merlin, for your fathers sake
I accept you to my kindred: if you grow in all things as your Beard
does, you will be talkt on. By your Mothers side cousin, you come
of the Go-too'ts, Suffolk bred, but our standing house is at Hocklye
i'th Hole, and Layton-buzzard. For your father, no doubt you may
from him claim Titles of Worship, but I cannot describe it; I think
his Ancestors came first from Hell-bree in Wales, cousin.
Devil.
No matter whence we do derive our Name,
All Brittany shall ring of Merlin's fame,
And wonder at his acts. Go hence to Wales,
There live a while, there Vortiger the King
Builds Castles and strong Holds, which cannot stand
Unless supported by yong Merlins hand.
There shall thy fame begin, Wars are a breeding.
The Saxons practise Treason, yet unseen,
Which shortly shall break out: Fair Love, farewel,
Dear son and brother, here must I leave you all,
Yet still I will be near at Merlins call.
Exit.
Mer.
Will you go Uncle?
Clown.
Yes, Ile follow you,
cousin: well, I do most horribly begin to suspect my kindred; this
brother in law of mine is the Devil sure, and though he hide his
horns with his Hat and Feather, I spi'd his cloven foot for all his
cunning.
Exit.
Enter Ostorius, Octa, and Proximus.
Ostor.
Come, come, time calls our close Complots to action: go
Proximus, with winged speed flie hence, hye thee to Wales, salute
great Vortiger with these our Letters; bid the King to arms, tell
him we have new friends, more Forces landed in Norfolk and Northumberland,
bid him make haste to meet us; if he keep his word,
wee'l part the Realm between us.
Octa.
Bend all thine Art to
quit that late disgrace the Christian Hermit gave thee, make thy
Prox.
That thought sir, spurs me
on, till I have wrought their swift destruction.
Exit.
Ostor.
Go then, and prosper. Octa, be vigilant: Speak, are the
Forts possest? the Guards made sure? Revolve I pray on how
large consequence the bare event and sequel of our hopes joyntly
consists, that have embark't our lives upon the hazzard of the least
miscarriage.
Octa.
All's sure, the Queen your sister hath contrived
the cunning Plot so sure, as at an instant the Brothers shall
be both surpriz'd and taken.
Ostor.
And both shall die, yet
one a while must live, till we by him have gather'd strength and
power to meet bold Edol their stern General, that now contrary to
the Kings command, hath re-united all his cashier'd Troops, and
this way beats his drums to threaten us.
Octa.
Then our Plot's
discover'd.
Ostor.
Come, th'art a fool, his Army and his life
is given unto us: where is the Queen, my sister?
Octa.
In conference
with the Prince.
Ostor.
Bring the Guards nearer, all is fair and good,
Their Conference I hope shall end in blood.
Exeunt.
Enter Prince and Artesia.
Artes.
Come, come, you do but flatter, what you term Love, is
but a Dream of blood, wakes with enjoying, and with open eyes
forgot, contemn'd, and lost.
Prince.
I must be wary, her words
are dangerous. True, we'l speak of Love no more then.
Artes.
Nay, if you will you may,
'Tis but in jest, and yet so children play
With fiery flames, and covet what is bright,
But feeling his effects, abhor the light.
Pleasure is like a Building, the more high,
The narrower still it grows, Cedars do dye
Soonest at top.
Prince.
How does your instanced suit?
Artes.
From Art and Nature to make sure the root,
And lay a fast foundation, e're I try
The incertain Changes of a wavering Skie.
Make your example thus.—You have a kiss.—was it not pleasing?
Prince.
Above all name to express it.
Artes.
Yet now the
pleasure's gone, and you have lost your joys possession.
Prince.
Yet when you please this flood may ebb again.
Artes.
But where it never ebbs, there runs the main.
Who can attain such hopes?
Artes.
Ile show the
way to it, give me a taste once more of what you may enjoy.
Kiss.
Prince.
Impudent whore! I were more false than Atheism can be,
Should I not call this high felicity.
Artes.
If I should trust your faith, alas I fear you soon would
change belief.
Prince.
I would covet Martyrdom to make't
confirm'd.
Artes.
Give me your hand on that, you'l keep your
word?
Prince.
I will.
Artes.
Enough: Help husband, king
Aurelius, help, rescue betraid Artesia.
Prince.
Nay then 'tis I that am betraid I see,
Yet with thy blood Ile end thy Treachery.
Artes.
How now! what troubles you? Is this you sir, that but
even now would suffer Martyrdom to win your hopes, and is there
now such terror in names of men to fright you? nay then I see
what mettle you are made on.
Prince.
Ha! was it but tryal?
then I ask your pardon: What a dull slave was I to be so fearful?
Ile trust her now no more, yet try the utmost. I am resolved, no
brother, no man breathing, were he my bloods begetter, should
withhold me from your love, I'd leap into his bosom, and from his
brest pull forth that happiness Heaven had reserved in you for my
enjoying.
Artes.
I now you speak a Lover like a Prince: Treason,
treason.
Prince.
Agen.
Artes.
Help Saxon Princes:
Treason.
Enter Ostorius, Octa, &c.
Ostor.
Rescue the Queen: strike down the Villain.
Enter Edoll, Aurelius, Donobert, Cador, Edwin, Toclio, Oswold, at the other Door.
Edol.
Call in the Guards: the Prince in danger! Fall back dear
Sir, my brest shall buckler you.
Aurel.
Beat down their weapons.
Edol.
Slave, wert thou made of brass, my sword shall bite
thee.
Aurel.
Withdraw on pain of death: where is the Traitor?
Artes.
Oh save your life, my Lord, let it suffice my beauty
forc't mine own captivity.
Aurel.
Who did attempt to
wrong thee?
Prince.
Hear me, Sir.
Aurel.
Oh my sad soul!
was't thou?
Artes.
Oh do not stand to speak, one minutes
stay, prevents a second speech for ever.
Aurel.
Make our
Guards strong; My dear Artesia, let us know thy wrongs, and our
own dangers.
Artes.
The Prince your brother, with these Brittain
Lords, have all agreed to take me hence by force, and marry
Prince.
The Devil shall wed thee first: thy baseness
and thy lust confound and rot thee.
Artes.
He courted
me even now, and in mine ear sham'd not to plead his most dishonest
love, and their attempts to seize your sacred person, either to
shut you up within some prison, or which is worse, I fear to murther
you.
Omnes Brittains.
'Tis all as false as hell.
Edol.
And as foul as she is.
Artes.
You know me, Sir?
Edol.
Yes, Deadly Sin, we know you, and shall discover all
your villany.
Aurel.
Chester forbear.
Ostor.
Their treasons
sir, are plain: Why are their Souldiers lodg'd so near the
Court?
Octa.
Nay, why came he in arms so suddenly?
Edol.
You fleering Anticks, do not wake my fury.
Octa.
Fury!
Edol.
Ratsban, do not urge me.
Artes.
Good sir, keep farther from them.
Prince.
Oh my
sick heart, she is a witch by nature, devil by art.
Aurel.
Bite
thine own slanderous tongue, 'tis thou art false, I have observ'd
your passions long ere this.
Ostor.
Stand on your guard, my
Lord, we are your friends, and all our Force is yours.
Edol.
To spoil and rob the Kingdom.
Aurel.
Sir, be silent.
Edol.
Silent! how long? till Doomsday? shall I stand by, and
hear mine Honor blasted with foul Treason, the State half lost,
and your life endanger'd, yet be silent?
Artes.
Yes, my blunt
Lord, unless you speak your Treasons. Sir, let your Guards, as
Traitors, seize them all, and then let tortures and devulsive racks,
force a Confession from them.
Edol.
Wilde-fire and Brimstone
eat thee. Hear me sir.
Aurel.
Sir, Ile not hear you.
Edol.
But you shall: Not hear me! were the worlds Monarch,
Cesar, living, he should hear me. I tell you Sir, these serpents
have betraid your Life and Kingdom: does not every day bring
tidings of more swarms of lowsie slaves, the offal fugitives of barren
Germany, that land upon our Coasts, and by our neglect settled
in Norfolk and Northumberland?
Ostor.
They come as Aids
and Safeguards to the King.
Octa.
Has he not need, when
Vortiger's in arms, and you raise Powers, 'tis thought, to joyn with
him?
Edol.
Peace, you pernicious Rat.
Dono.
Prithee forbear.
Edol.
Away, suffer a gilded rascal, a low-bred despicable creeper,
an insulting Toad, to spit his poison'd venome in my face!
Octa.
Sir, sir.
Do not reply, you Cur, for by the Gods, tho' the Kings
presence guard thee, I shall break all patience, and like a Lion
rous'd to spoil, shall run foul-mouth'd upon thee, and devour thee
quick. Speak sir, will you forsake these scorpions, or stay till they
have stung you to the heart?
Aurel.
Y'are traitors all, this is our
wife, our Queen: brother Ostorius, troop your Saxons up, we'l
hence to Winchester, raise more powers, to man with strength the
Castle Camilot: go hence false men, joyn you with Vortiger, the
murderer of our brother Constantine: we'l hunt both him and you
with dreadful vengance,
And guard our person from your traitorous ends.
Exeunt Aurel. Ostor. Octa. Artes. Toc. Osw.
Edwin.
He's sure bewitch.
Glost.
What counsel now for
safety?
Dono.
Onely this sir, with all the speed we can, preserve
the person of the King and Kingdom.
Cador.
Which
to effect, 'tis best march hence to Wales, and set on Vortiger before
he joyn his Forces with the Saxons.
Edwin.
On then with
speed for Wales and Vortiger, that tempest once o'reblown, we
come Ostorius to meet thy traiterous Saxons, thee and them, that
with advantage thus have won the King, to back your factions,
and to work our ruines.
In bloody lines upon thy Burgonet.
Exeunt.
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