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 Secundus.
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 | The Tragical History of Guy Earl of Warwick |  |
Actus Secundus.
Enter Time.Devotion and Divine Atchievments cause
Great Guy of Warwick to neglect all Lawes,
Of Nuptial League, he leaves his pregnant VVife,
Countrey and Kindred for a holy Life,
But in his progresse, makes himself a prize
To multitudes of matchlesse miseries;
By which it may be justly understood,
He is not truly great, that is not good:
In Holy Lands abroad his spirits roame
And not in Deanes and Chapters lands at home,
His sacred fury menaceth that Nation,
VVhich hath Indea under Sequestration:
He doth not strike at Surplices and Tippits,
(To bring an Oleo in of Sects in Sippits)
But deales his warlike and dead-doing blowes,
Against his Saviours and his Soveraigns foes;
That Coat of Armour fears no change of weather,
Where sanctity and souldier go together:
So doth our Champion march up to the fight,
Sit, silent, pray, Time will bring all to light.
Exit.
Enter Guy and Sparrow.
Guy.
What Sirrah Sparrow?
Spar.
Anon, anon Sir.
Guy.
What are you turn'd Tapffer since you came out of
England?
Spar.
Tapster quotha I shall never be so good a man while I
live; for I had rather see a Tapster then a King: I like your
long Journeys at Sea wel but for one thing.
Guy.
What's that I pray?
Spar.
O Master heres no Alehouses by the way, a man cannot
give that great Castle you got from the Gyant to that pueling
harlotry in the silk Gown?
Guy.
Why Sir she was a Lady of great birth.
Spar.
A Ladle of great birch, why and she had been a ladle
of holly; I would not have given't her I trow, you had bin better
a given it me by half.
Guy.
What wouldest thou have done with it?
Spar.
I would have wrapt it in a Letter and sent it into Warwickeshire
for a token: but Master, good sweet Master lend me
your Sword.
Enter an Hermit.
Guy.
What wilt thou do with it?
Spar.
Here comes an Old man Ile kill him.
Guy.
Ye cowardly Rogue wilt thou kill a Hermit?
Spar.
An Emmot quotha, 'tis one of the fowlest great Emmots
that ever I saw.
Guy.
God blesse thee Father and send thee happinesse on
Earth and Heaven when thou diest.
Spar.
And the Gallowes when a dyes, what should he do with
Heaven?
Her.
O what art thou that speakest of God or Heaven, full
forty Winters have I lived here, and never heard the Name of
God till now, but in my prayers and my orisons.
Spar.
A sawcy old Knave I perceive, he uses to eat Orrenges,
Which very word makes me have an appetick as fierce as a Fidler
at a Feast; it is a question of some difficulty, to resolve whether
my Masters Spirit, or my Stomack be the greater; if he have
the valour to knock down a Dun Cow, I have the Courage to
Cut he rup, and the Confidence to Carbonado her quarters.
Guy.
Father into your private ears I dare,
power out my spirit, my designments are
for holy Actions, you may understand,
my pilgrimage is to the holy Land,
where my Redeemer's cause is trodden down,
where he wore Thorns, Usurpers wear a Crown,
I go to view the Monument and story
Of him that was no lesse then Lord of Glory.
Her.
You answer punctually to what I ask,
as intricate as dangerous, may I crave
the name of him whose valour is so brave?
Guy.
Although I now shrowded in these Pilgrims weeds,
(an holy habit fit for holy deeds)
I am an Earle, men call me Guy of VVarwick.
Her.
In all the space betwixt Dover and Barwick,
I have not known a man of clearer Fame,
(whose actions add new glory to his Name)
then he that owns that title, all that's good,
attend your Spirit and preserve your blood.
Spar.
And Father Emmot did you never hear of the Famous
actions and valorous Atchievments of one Squire Sparrow?
Guy.
Away you Hedg-bird.
Spar.
Phillip is his Name,
A bird of Venus, and a Cock of the Game,
who once being in Love with pritty Parnell,
did crack her Nut, and thou maist pick the Kernell;
she is a Peacock every man doth vayle
his bonnet to her, when she shewes her tayle.
Guy.
Leave talking of your trundle Sirrah.
Spar.
VVhy so? my Mistris Parnell is as precious to me, as
your Lady Phillis is to you, we have gotten them both with child;
and all the difference is, that Phillis is your wedded VVife, and
Parnell is my unmarried Mistris, and we must needs run up and
down killing of Dun Cowes, Dragons, VVild-boars and Mastiff
Dogs, when we have more work at home then we can well turn
our hands to.
Her.
I like your high design, that for the truth,
can in the dayes of dalliance and youth,
prosecute piety, and attempt things
that Consecrate the Crowns of greatest Kings.
Guy.
Father your benediction will add wings
Guy kneeleth.
to all my undertakings.
Her.
May the springs
Of ever pregnant providence ne're be,
shut to your wants, but flow fertyle and free,
may you ne're feel necessities sharp rod,
protect thy steps and keep thee far from ill;
so farewell Son my prayers attend thee still.
Spar.
Nay but do you here Old Man, pray let you and I have
a two or three cold words together? Have you ever a House here
in these Woods?
Her.
No House but a poor Cottage, gentle friend.
Spar.
Unch, How say ye? you would fain curry favour with
me, but 'twill not serve your turn: Have ye ever an Ambry in
your Cottage, where a Man may find a good Bag-pudding, a
piece of Beef, or a Platter of Bruis knockle deep in Fat; for I
tell thee old fellow, I am sharp set, I have not eat a good Meal
this Fortnight.
Guy.
Come hither Sirrah, can I no sooner come into a strangers
Company, but you seek to disgrace me!
Spar.
Who I? why Master? you are mightily deceived in me,
for I never use to say Grace before I see meat on the Table.
Guy.
Sirrah, I speak not of saying Grace but of Disgrace, therefore
Sirrah go and tell him you want no meat.
Spar.
Shall I tell him so?
Guy.
I Sir.
Spar.
I shall tell him a monstrous lye then.
Guy.
You'l tell him so, quickly too if I intreat you.
Spar.
Yes i'le tell him because I dare do no otherwise; old
man did I tell you I wanted meat?
Her.
I marry did you.
Spar.
Ye lye like an old Knave, yet if you have any Bread
and Cheese about you, put a piece in my Cap.
Guy.
Sir leave your prating, Father fare you well.
Her.
More good attend thee then my tongue can tell.
Exit Hermit.
Guy.
This is the stately Tower of Donather,
where Huon of Burdeaux a couragious Knight
slew Angolofar in a single Fight:
go Sparrow, seek find me an entrance in,
let me alone to cope, with those comes forth.
Spar.
Why Master have you no more wit but to send me, did
not you hear that there keeps a monstrous Gyant in this Castle,
that eateth a quarter of an Ox at a bit, his mouth's as wide as a
all that, they say, he hath Four and twenty Men to throw Mustard
in his Mouth; Now if I should come in the way, fall in the
Mustard Fot, and be thrown into his mouth, you might go look
for a man where you could get him.
Guy.
I but you being a Sparrow methinks should flye from
them.
Spar.
O Master I must confesse I have been something loftily
minded in my young dayes, but Parnell and the rest of the pritty
Wenches in our Parish have so pluct my plumes, that I was
never good mounter since ifaith.
It Thunders and Lightens.
Guy.
Very well, then you'l not go?
Spar.
Go, yes i'le go that's flat. O Master! the Divel, the Divel,
the Divel.
Guy.
Why? how now Sirrah, are you affraid?
Spar.
No, I scorne to be affraid, but good Master for Gods
sake grant me one request, upon my knees I ask it.
Guy.
What's that Sir?
Spar.
Sweet hony Master go your self.
Guy.
I thank you Sir, but if you go not soon, my Sword
shall bring you of a stomack to go.
Spar.
O Master, never talk of that; for I have a stomack like
a Horse, but no heart in the world to go to such a break-fast,
but yet I'le go what somere comes ont, though I run into a bush
presently; I am in Master, I am in.
It Thunders & Lightens.
Guy.
It is no Gyant sure that keeps this place,
but some Inchanter or dam'd Sorcerer.
Hell-hound come forth, that I may cope with thee,
I fear not all thy charming Sorceries;
send forth no shadows to afright my soul,
my Faith no Hell-born Fury can controul.
Enter the Inchanter.
Inchan.
Let all my horrid Vapours cease their strength;
Let the Air Freeze, the Earth be cold as Ice,
whereon this during Knight dothset his Feet.
For though Hells Force can no waies daunt his heart,
he soon shall know my Force can tame his Pride.
I cannot lift my Arms unto my Head,
my Feet stick fast into the solid earth,
and I shall never move my self from hence,
damned inchanter, hellish sorcerer,
whose black dam'd Art, hath wrought my lucklesse fall;
O that thou durst let loose this damned spell,
I soon would send thy fiend-like soul to Hell.
Inchan.
By all the burning brooks of Phlegiton,
by Styx and Acheron I vow and swear
ne're shalt thou go alive out of this place.
Thus do I lay a charme upon thy head,
a hell bred slumber close thy sences up;
there groveling lye, and never more arise,
Guy falls.
a black inchanted charme close up thine eyes.
Exit inchanten.
Enter Oberon King of the Fairies.
Obe.
But I will break thy charming Sorceries,
and he shall wake to be thy overthrow.
You harmlesse spirits of the flowry Meades,
Nymphes, Satyres, Fawnes, and all the Fairy train,
that waits on Oberon the Fairy King,
attend me quickly with your silver tunes;
and in a circled Ring, lets compasse round,
this sleeping Knight that lies upon the ground.
Enter the Fairies with Musick, they Dance about him, Oberon strikes Guy with his Wand, he awakes and speakes.
Guy.
Where art thou Guy? what heavenly place is this?
what ravishing sound of Musick fills mine ear?
what blessed shadowes do appear to me,
that am a woful wretched sinful man?
O pardon me as I am faithful true,
I never yet meant hurt to none of you.
Obe.
We know it well, arise fair Knight, stand up,
Guy ariseth.
that doth inhabit in this hatefull Tower;
he casts thee in a deadly charming sleep,
and but by my means thou shouldest ne're have walkt,
I am the Fairy King that keeps these Groves,
for Huon of Burdeaux sake, thy Warlike friend,
the dear loved Minion of the Fairy King,
will I make Guy of Warwicks name be fear'd;
for conquest of the Tower of Donather,
here take this charming Wand, I give it thee,
which is of such great vertue if it touch,
all the Inchantments in this spacious world,
they all shall be dissolv'd immediately.
For proof whereof make tryal against this Tower,
and in a moment it shall vanish hence.
Guy.
Great Fairy King, how am I bound to thee,
that from these dangers hast delivered me,
I'le touch this Tower, if that dissolve these charmes,
Warwick is free from all inchanting harmes.
It Thunders, Lightens.
Enter Sparrow running.
Spar.
Fire, Fire, Fire.
Guy.
How now Sirrah, what's the news with you?
Spar.
Whoop Master are you alive still? nay, then I care not
ifaith, but I have been peper'd since I went from you.
Guy.
How Sir I pray.
Spar.
When you sent me to seek an entrance into the Castle, I
thinking it was good sleeping in a whole skin, ran and hid my self
in a bush, I had not lain there long but it began to Thunder and
Lighten monstrously, and presently the Bush flew a Fire about
my Eares; that with your favour I came away in a stinking
complexity; but Master what fine little hop, O my Thumbs have
you got here.
Guy.
Sirrah take heed what you say for these are Fairies.
Spar.
Fairies quotha, I care not what they be, I'le have about
with them for a bloody Nose; I have a better stomack to fight
with one of them, then with the Gyant agreat deal; Unch ye
whorson little pigpies, you i'le tickle ye ifaith.
O Master help, help.
Guy.
How now Sirrah, what's the newes with you?
Spar.
I am kil'd master, I am kil'd.
Guy.
Kil'd knave, where art kil'd?
Spar.
In the Buttock, in the Buttock.
Guy.
VVell Sir, rise, or i'le rise ye.
Spar.
Rise quotha, yes, I'le rise, but I am sure I am dead; do
you call these Fairies, a vengeance on them, they have tickled my
Collefodiums ifaith; but master what is that same little gentlemans
name?
Guy.
Sir his name is King Oberon.
Spar.
Little Gentleman is your name King Colbron?
Obe.
No Sir, my name is King Oberon.
Spar.
VVhy then good King Muttonbone learne your little
Munkies to pair their Nayles with a pestilence; for my posteriors
will feel the print of them this fortnight at the least.
Obe.
Sir hold your peace, and Guy give me thy hand,
the way i'le shew thee to the holy land,
where I will add such glory to thy name
that all the world shall speak of Warwicks fame.
The black Inchanter he is gone to Hell,
in endlesse torments ever for to dwell,
Nymphs, Satyres, Fawnes, and all the rest march on,
before stout Guy, and youthful Oberon.
Exeunt.
| The Tragical History of Guy Earl of Warwick | |