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The Tragical History of Guy Earl of Warwick

The Tragical History, Admirable Atchievments and various events of Guy Earl of Warwick. A Tragedy Acted very Frequently with great Applause by his late Majesties Servants
  
  

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Actus Quintus.

  


Actus Quintus.

Enter Time.
Thus Guy to Warwick Castle now is gone,
where hearing of the Almes fair Phillis gives
to Palmers, that do daily passe that way;
he thither goes, and at her hand receives
his daily food; and being unknown,
he tells her tidings of his own estate;
and in a forrest not far from the place,
a mile distant called Arden wood,
with his own hands he builds himself a Cave.
What followes now of Rainborn his fair Son,
Sir Herodes meeting, and of their return,
and what to Guy of Warwick doth befall,
sit pleas'd a while and Time shall shew you all.
Exit Time.

Enter Guy Solus.
Guy.
Now am I come in sight of my fair Home,
thats cal'd Guye's Crosse, for that I did erect,
before I went to fair Jerusalem;
here was I wont to sit and view my Land,
and eke my Castle that on Tiptoes stand,
to overpeer this part of Warwickshire.

Enter two Palmers.
1 Palmer.
Come hither, lets a little mend our pace,
for we are near to Warwick Castle now;
where I have heard of late fair Phillis dwells,
who gives Almes to all that passe that way.

2 Pal.
Good brother lets go thither presently;
but stay, methinks here sits an Aged man,
lets ask him if hee'l go along with us?

1 Pal.
With all my heart;
all happinesse attend you Aged Father.

Guy.
The like I wish to you good gentle Friends.

1 Pal.
May we intreat you go along with us,


to Warwick Castle, where fair Phillis dwells,
who giveth Almes to all such as we are.

Guy.
With all my heart, I'le go along with you.

Enter Phillis, and a Servant with Bread and Wine.
1 Pal.
See where she comes out of her Castle Gate.
Both Palmers kneel and pray.
Heaven blesse fair Phillis for this deed,
and send Sir Guy of VVarwick home with speed.

Phillis.
Amen, Amen, come give them a reward,
there's Bread and Wine, eat and refresh your selves;
and there's some Money to relieve your wants,
and pray for Guy of VVarwick and his Friends.
But wherefore stands this Aged man so sad?
What art thou Father?

Guy.
A poor distressed Pilgrime gentle Lady.

Phill.
More welcome art thou unto Warwicks Wife.
for in a Pilgrims weed my Lord is gone,
even to the furthest part of Christendome.
But tell me Father, hast thou travel'd far?

Guy.
Lady I have, and seen my Saviours blessed Sepulchre.

Phillis.
In all thy travels didst thou never hear
of Guy of VVarwick, and his Warlike Deeds?

Guy.
I have both heard, and been with him,
even at the siege of fair Jerusalem;
where he perform'd such deeds of Chivalry,
that by his means the City was preserv'd,
and Sultan Shamurath with all his Hoast,
was overcome and holy vanquished.

Phillis.
Let me embrace thee in my tender Armes,
and kisse thy Aged Cheek, for until now,
of my dear Lord, I never heard so much;
reach me a stool, I prethee Father sit.

Guy.
Here on the ground I'le sit, tis earth and dust,
from it I had my Birth, to it I must.

Phillis.
Give me some Bread? I prethee Father Eat.

Guy.
Give me Brown Bread, for thats a Pilgrimes Meat.

Phillis.
Reach me some Wine, good Father tast of this.

Guy.
Give me cold Water that my comfort is,


I tell ye Lady your great Lord and I,
have thought our selves as happy as a King,
to drink the water of a Christal spring.

Phillis.
O do not break my sorrow beaten heart,
with sharp remembrance of his miseries,
that is more dear to me then all the world;
but gentle Father for this happy newes,
which thou hast told me of my beloved Lord;
if in my Castle thou wilt stay with me,
for VVarwicks sake I will make much of thee.

Guy.
I thank you Lady, but I cannot stay,
my hast in Pilgrimage calls me away;
therefore in duty here I take my leave.

Phillis.
O stay a while, and do not go so soon,
for I am loth to leave thy company;
this poor reward of Phillis shalt thou take,
which I do give thee for my Warwicks sake;
so fare thee well, whatsoe're the cause should be,
my heart is full of grief to part with thee.

Exit Phillis and her Servant.
Guy.
And mine of sorrow and deep misery.

1 Pal.
Come Father, will you along with us?

Guy.
Go on good friends, I follow presently,
Ex. Palmers.
as fast as weakned age will give me leave.
And now poor Guy fall prostrate on thy knees,
and thank the God that gave thee such a Wife;
Phillis when thou art dead and laid in grave,
few such true Women will fair England have.
Now will I hye me unto Arden wood,
there in a Rock of stone I'le build a Cave;
and of my Phillis fair, whom I love best,
i'le fetch my daily Food, and thus in rest
till full six years be brought unto an end,
unknown to any, I my life will spend.
Exit Guy.



Enter Rainborne Solus.
Rain.
Now that the poasting Charet of the Sonne,
hath tired Phœbus and his wanton steeds,
the duskey Clouds hath closed up the day,
and Hesperus is left to guide the world;
Here Rainborne rest thy self within these woods,
and give thy weary limbs some time of stay,
until that Phœbus chase the night away;
then will I buckle on my Armes again,
and never cease pursuit till I have found
my Warlike Father, the renown'd Sir Guy,
He sits down.
which I will doe, or in this journy dye.

Enter Sparrow.

A Pilgrimage, quotha, marry here's a Pilgrimage
indeed, why? I have lost my Master, and have been this
fortnight in a Wood, where I have eat nothing but Hips and
Hawes, that ye may make Fiddle strings of my Guts they are
so thin: but I am serv'd well enough; for when I was at home
with my old Father, where I had my belly full of Beef and
Bag-pudding, but I must be Travelling with a Pestilence.

He espies Rainborne.

But stay, who have we here? some Traveller I hold my Life
on't, I care not greatly if I knock out his Brains, and then take
away all his Money, yet sure he has not much, he has such fine
Cloaths on; for commonly now adaies our Gallants in their
Silkes and Velvets have the Divel dancing in their great Hose;
for there's never a crosse to hinder him, therefore I'le wake
him sure, Whoop whow, &c.


He Hollowes in his Ear.
Rainborne.

How now Sirrah, what are you?


Sparrow.

A Curstian, what art thou?


Rainborne.

Art thou a Christian? prethee where wer't
born?


Sparrow.

Ifaith Sir I was born in England at Stratford upon
Avon in Warwickshire.


Rainborne.

Wer't born in England? what's thy name?




Sparrow.

Nay I have a fine finical name, I can tell ye, for
my name is Sparrow; yet I am not no house Sparrow, nor no
hedge Sparrow, nor no peaking Sparrow, nor no sneaking
Sparrow, but I am a high mounting lofty minded Sparrow, and
that Parnell knows well enough, and a good many more of the
pretty Wenches of our Parish ifaith.


Rainborne.

Very well Sir, what make you here in these
Countries?


Sparrow.

Marry I have lost a stray Master, can you tell me
any tidings of him?


Rainborne.

What was thy Masters name?


Sparrow.

My Masters Name, why you would not hear it
would ye?


Rainborne.

Yes sir that I would.


Sparrow.

Well he has a tickling name I can tell ye.


Rain.

Howsoever let me hear it.


Spar.

Yes you shall hear it, he is cal'd the most Couragious,
Bravagious, Contagious; but do you hear young Gentleman,
have ye ever another suit of apparel ne're hand.


Rain.

VVhy Sir?


Spar.

VVhy truly all will not be well with ye if you hear
my Masters name; therefore I would wish you take heed
what ye doe, for you'l perfume that, so that ye will have need
of another.


Rain.

Sirrah leave your prating, and let me hear it.


Spar.

Nay ye shall hear it, he is called the most Renowned,
Profounded, Compounded; but heark ye, have ye ever a clean
shirt about ye?


Rain.

VVhy Sir?


Spar.

VVhy? I know if you hear my Masters name you'l blow
your Nose backward, and then your Landresse will call you
Sloven.


Rain.

Why ye base Pesant, shall I not hear his Name?


Spar.

O Lord Sir, ye are deceived! I am no Phesant, though
I be a Sparrow, yet you shall hear my Masters name, he is called
Sir Guy of Warwick.


Rain.

Sir Guy of Warwick, my Renowned Father.


Spar.

Thy Father, thy Halter, indeed when I came out of



England I left a Wench pretty and plump, thou may'st be my
Son, if thou beest, kneel down and ask me blessing, and i'le give
thee two pence.


Rain.

Away you base slave.


Spar.

Why dost thou think scorn to ask me blessing?


Rain.

I Sir that I do.


Spar.

Then I think scorn to give thee my two pence.


Rain.

Sir leave this talk and tell me certainly,
where brave Sir Guy at this time doth remain,
and with rich gifts I will requite thy pains.


Spar.

VVill ye so, why the last time I saw him he and I were
going towards England, and in the midst of a great wood I lost
him, but I had better have been hang'd or some worse mischance
come to me, for I am like never to get-home as long as
I live.


Rain.

Nay fear not that, for if thou't stay with me,
for VVarwicks sake I will make much of thee.


Spar.

But are you Sir Guy of VVarwicks Son?


Rain.

Upon my Knightly word I am.


Spar.

Faith I doubt you are some lying Hangman; for indeed
we Travellers may lye by Authority; but I'le tell ye what
I'le doe, stay you here till I go into England, and ask your
Mother, if she sayes so, I'le come again and then I'le dwell with
you.


Rain.

Nay stay Sir, for it is above a Thousand mile into
England.


Spar.

A Thousand mile, nay sure i'le take your word before
i'le go so far to try the matter, but if I should be content to
dwell with you, what dyet will you allow me?


Rain.

Why Sirrah? to your Dinner you shall have a Pomgarnate.


Spar.

A pound of Garlike, why I never eat Garlike in all
my Life;


Rain.

I say a Pomegarnate, which is almost like an Apple.


Spar.

Apples to my Dinner, and what to my Supper? quickly,
quickly.


Rainborne.

Why to your Supper you shall have a Couple of
Olives.




Spar.

Nay that's not much amisse, for that is two leggs of
Beef stuft with Parsley.


Rain.

You are deceived Sirrah, for an Olive is no bigger then
a Plum.


Spar.

How Apples to my Dinner, and Plums to my Supper,
O my belly, my belly, my belly; why Master you have kil'd me
already, but i'le tell ye how ye must use me; at Eight of
Clock you must call me up; but ye must not make too
much hast, for I must have half an hours scratching before I can
put on my Shirt; then betwixt nine and ten I must be at breakfast,
and from eleven to one at Dinner, then I must go to sleep
till three, then I must have my Afternoons Nunching, then at
five of the Clock my Supper; and then what work you will all
the day after, but you must not feed me with Apples and Plums,
for I must have my fill five times a day of Beef, Brewis, Bag-Puddings
and Pies. Oh how my Teeth waters to think on them,
besides odd bits in a Corner; and if you'l deal thus with me,
I'le dwell with you, and doe all this that I have promised
you.


Rain.

That's eat your Victuals and sleep.


Spar.

Why aye and something else too, though it be no great
manners to speak on't.


Rain.

But art thou sure my Father is gone for England?


Spar.

Am I sure? why I tell ye, he is in England long
ago.


Rain.
Why then in hast i'le post to England now.
but I'le not tarry in it, nor else where,
unlesse I find my Warlike Father there;
Come Sparrow follow me.

Spar.

Do you hear young Master, though you be my Master,
yet I am your Elder, and therefore your better, and alwaies
while ye live, learn to let your betters go afore ye.


Exeunt.
Enter Guy Solus.
Guy.
Thus have I almost brought unto an end,
the tedious time of my long Pilgrimage,
for of my seven and twenty year's remains


only seven days to be accomplished.
The longest Summers day comes to an end;
The dials point though none perceive it stur,
in length of time creeps round about the same;
even so this long thought time is almost spent,
onely seven dayes to come, and I am free,
and then to all my Friends disclos'd i'le be.

Enter an Angell.
Angell.
Thou blessed Champion of the highest Heaven,
be firme in faith, and here my message out,
for my great Master sends thee word by me,
that seven dayes being past thou sure shalt dye;
tears change not fate, poor pilgrime now farewel
go meet more joyes then Angels Tongues can tell.
Exit Angell.

Guy.
Welcome O welcome be thy glorious will,
thou great Archfactor of the Firmament.
O hadst thou let me lain but one day more,
to have reveal'd my self unto my Wife,
my dear, dear Phillis, who languisheth in pain,
hoping to see her aged Lord again.
Then had I been contented for to dye,
So am I now, thou must be pleas'd, not I.
Yet Guy bethink thee what thou hast to do,
wilt thou not make thy self known to thy Wise?
but thus unknown to any lose thy Life?
where no man ne're shall hear of thee at all,
nor give thy body Christian burial;
Yes, I will hye me strair to Phillis Gate,
and there reveal my self and my estate,
and my dear Phillis, whom I loved best,
shall close mine eyes, and bring my soul to rest.
But wilt thou break that vow of sanctity,
which thou didst make to him, that hath made thee;
and seek to contradict his holy will,
that hath shew'd such great mercies to thee still:
O God forbid! That vow true kept shall be,
I'le commit all to him that saved me.


and when I dye, instead of Tomb or Grave,
I'le leave my body in my stone cold Cave.
Thither I will, and spend my short sweet dayes,
in contemplation and in holy prayers;
I poor old Guy go hye and hast thee thither,
for life and Pilprimage must end together.

Exit.
Enter Sparrow Solus.
Sparrow.

Ha, ha, the world's well amended with me by-Lady,
why? I am as plumb as a pudding now, for ever since I
came to my young Master, I have been so puft up with good
chear, that Barly puddings are no meat, nor Cheese-cakes, nor
Custards, no banquetting stuffe with me; for as soon as ever we
ca,me into England, my young Master goes to the Court presently
where he and I were Counterpain'd with such implements as
passes; I am tost up and down like a Shittlecock in every bodies
mouth; for who but Master Sparrow, the greatest Traveller
that has been at cost twenty Nobles and Jerico, and I cannot tell
ye where; but for all that I was serv'd a Sluttish trick to day,
for my Master being bidden to great a Gentlemans house to dinner,
took me along with him to wait at the Table; wel as they
were at Dinner, the Serving men as they took off the meat
set it before the fire to keep it warm for themselves: I seeing the
good chear standing in battle Ray, and having not broke my
fast of all day, I began to draw near the fire, and look over my
shoulder upon the victuals, at last I spyed a Fat legg of Pork;
O how my Teeth did water to look upon't! I had not stood
long, but seeing every body busie, I whipt the legg of Pork into
my Pocket, and stood very mannerly with my hands at my back,
as though I had done nothing; but it was not long, e're the
Fat Pork with the heat of the Fire began to fry out of my Slops,
& all the dogs in the House came Snukering and licking about
my Breeches, and not content with that, but one unmannerly
Cur above all the rest, popt his Nose into my Pocket, snatcht out
the leg of Pork, & tore away all the tone side of my Breeches, that
I was fain to go out edgling like a Crab ifaith; put i'le ne're



steal Pork again while I live, i'le have one bit of Mutron whatsome're
comes on't ifaith.

Exit Sparrow.

Enter Guy being in his Cave, to him the Angell.
Angell.
Now Guy of Warwick is accomplished,
the full effect of all thy Pilgrimage,
then rise and pray, thy sins may be forgiven,
for Angels wait to bear thy soul to Heaven.
Exit Angell.

Guy.
Gods will be done, I am resolv'd to dye,
and have askt mercy at the hands of him
that gave me Life, and now will take the same.
O what a pretious soul hath sinful man!
that in it self alone does comprehend
the figure, state, and lineaments of Heaven,
yet cannot measure nor define it self;
so when that all great workmen of the world,
had fram'd mans flesh out of a clod of clay,
and all the Creatures of the Universal world,
of the same mould, to whom his very word
gave present life onely in mans brest,
that vil'd ambitious sinful heap of drosse;
he breathd his own breath, even the breath of heaven,
that is the glorious soul we now possesse,
which is immortal and can never dye.
Yet he that late was fram'd of Mire and filth,
plac'd in a glorious state of innocence,
was not content, but striv'd to be as good
as his great maker, who could with one word,
throw him down headlong to the deepest Hell;
yet he in Mercy, Love, and meer good will,
did grant him pardon for his soul offence;
and seeing him unable to perform
his blessed will, did send his own dear Son
to pay his ransome with his precious blood,
and to redeem that soul which sinful man,
had forfeited to Satan, Death and Hell;


and for a death dam'd cursed and unpure,
he gave him life eternal to indure;
which life eternal, grant sweet Christ to me,
that in Heavens joyes I may thy glory see.

Enter Rainborne and Herod of Arden with Sparrow.
Rain.
Go good Sir Herod Post and meet the King,
who now is coming with his warlike Troops,
to meet my Father and to honour him,
in his return from fair Jerusalem.

Herod.
Hie you to Warwick Castle to your Mother,
tell her this happy news of his return,
whose absence long hath made her weep and mourn.
Come Sparrow you shall go along with me.

Spar.
Shall I go meet the King too Master?

Rain.
I Sir, you shall attend upon my friend.

Spar.
But I pray tell me one thing, is the King a Man or a Woman?

Rain.
He is a Man.

Spar.

Well, I shall never love him while I live, for a Cosin of
his, the King of Clubs made me loose six pots of Ale, at Mother
Bunches ifaith.


Rainborne.
Well Sir go along with him.
Exit Sparrow and Herod.
Now Rainborne glut thy heart with wisht for joy,
O how it glads my soul, that I shall see,
my dear loved Father once before I dye!
The people flock together all on heaps,
Clapping their hands, and crying out for joy,
that Guy of Worwick is come again,
and all report it of a certainty,
that in the dreadful day of Winchester,
he vanquisht Colbron in a single fight.
Guy groans.
But stay, methinks I hear a doleful sound
of a departing man, and see here lies
an Aged Pilgrime, at the point of death;
what art thou Father? prethee speak to me.

Guy.
A poor age-withered Creature gentle Son,
that streight must yield my due unto my grave,


for age and sicknesse now my life will have.

Rain.
Alas, good Father thou art sick indeed,
yet if thou canst but lean upon my Arme,
I'le lead thee to a place where thou shalt be
comforted and attended carefully.

Guy.
I thank thee Son, but cannot leave this place;
yet if thy thoughts be equal with thy words,
let me request one kindnesse at thy hands,
it is the last that ever I shall make.

Rain.
Speak freely Father what soe're it be,
thy will shall be perform'd immediately.

Guy.
Then unto Warwick Castle hie thee straight,
enquire for Phillis Guy of Warwicks Wife,
deliver to her this same ring of Gold,
tell her an old door Pilgrime at deaths dore,
did send it to her as a recompence,
for her good deeds, to him and many moe,
since her dear Lord away from her did go.

Ramb.
I'le give it her, as I have hope of Heaven,
and bring her with me hither presently;
that with sweet balmes she may comfort thee,
so fare thee well, sweet heaven thy comfort be.

Exit.
Guy.
Go on in peace, my peace with heaven is made,
thou goest to carry such a doleful gift,
as with the sight will kill my Phillis heart;
for when I took my leave to go from her,
that ring she gave me as a pledge of love;
which if I see quoth she, and thou not by,
Phillis will grieving weep, and weeping dye.
O did she know her VVarwicks death so nigh,
and he so ne're in a cold Cave to lye;
she soon would come and take her last adue
of him, whose love to her hath still been true;
but shall I dye before I see her face?
I feel death ceazing on my heart already;
O my sweet Saviour strengthen me this hour,
and in my weaknesse shew thy heavenly power.
I come, I come, to thee sweet Christ I flye,


save my poor soul, let my vile body dye.

He dies.
Enter Phillis and Rainborne.
Phillis.
O hast thee Son, and bring me to the man
that sent this Ring, alas we are undone!
it is thy Father Boy, good Rainborne run.

Rain.
You tell me wonders that amaze my soul,
it cannot be my Father that should lye,
in his own Country and his wife so nigh.

Phillis.
This is the Ring I gave him, which quoth he,
nothing but death shall ever part from me.

Rain.
See where he lies even yielding up the ghost.

Phillis.
If it be he, he hath a mould Wart underneath his Ear.

She looks under his Ear, and cries out, they both kneel to him.
Rain.
View him good Mother, satisfie your mind.

Phillis.
It is my Husband, Oh my dearest Lord!

Rain.
O my dear Father speak unto thy Son,
but he is dead, and we are quite undone.

Phillis.
O gentle Warwick, speak one word to me,
I am thy wife that seven and twenty years
bewail'd thy absence even with woful Tears;
speak, speak, if any spark of life remains,
I'le think one look enough for all thy pains.

Rain.
See Mother now he looks upon us both,
and see how fast he holds my Fingers now;
something he wants, behold he maketh signes,
that we with our two hands should close his eyes.
Now it is done, see how he faints and dies.

Phillis.
O break my heart, that I with him may dye,
that in one grave our bodies both may lye.

Rain.
The King is coming, good mother be content;
O heavy is my heart, with too much grief is spent.

Enter Athelstone, Herod with others.
Athelst.
Sir Herod of Arden this is the time and place,
that I appointed for to meet Sir Guy,


and do him honour as he hath deserv'd,
but yet we have not heard where he remains.

Herod.
See where Sir Rainborne and fair Phillis sits,
and in their Arms an aged Pilgrime lies.

Rain.
And famous Warwick in this Pilgrime dies;
see mighty King, and worthy Lords behold
the flesh and blood of him, that when he lived,
was the most famous Knight that e're drew sword,
or clad his loins in compleat Arms of steel.

Athelst.
O you have broke my heart with this sad news!
i'st possible my dearest friend Sir Guy,
should end his life, in such an uncouth place.
O cruel fate! O woful destiny!
arise fair Lady, sorrow helpeth not;
for if that sighs, or tears, could ought avail,
to bring his Heaven bred soul to Earth again;
my Kingly tears should day and night be spent,
to fetch it thence, but Heaven doth that prevent.

Rain.
Your Tears, nor mine, dear Mother can prevail,
nothing at all, Heaven hath appointed this,
Angells conduct his soul to endlesse blisse.

Athelst.
Rainborne 'tis true, sweet Phillis weep no more,
lets comfort all our selves with thinking thus,
we must to him, but hee'l ne're come to us;
but in the honour of his worthy name,
the shield-bone of the bore of Callidon,
shall be hang'd up at Coventries great Gate;
the Ribs of the Dun Cow of Dunsmore Heath,
in Warwick Castle for a monument;
and on his Cave where he hath left his life,
a stately Hermitage I will erect,
in honour of Sir Guy of VVarwicks Name,
passe mournfully along, wee'l follow all
his bloodlesse Corps, and heavy funeral.

Four takes the body of Guy, the rest follow.