 | The Prisoners |  |
Actus secundus
Scena Prima.
Enter the King, Cecillia, Philon, Certanes, Cleon, Hiparcus, Pausanes bound, and a Guard.King.
Vrge me no more, thy softnesse was betraid
And because they were penitent thou thought'st
Them innocent.
I tell thee Cecillia, if they could have helpt
To have borne thee hence thou should'st have seene
Lust and pride flow really in 'em. Their feare
My sister made 'em fawne,
Away to the Oares with 'em.
Hip.
Had we scap'd misfortunes till we met feares
Thy Army King might have found a grave
E're they had seene us bound: And to let thee see
We have no shaking soules, this threatned misery
Shall not make us or feare or fawne on thee.
Peace Hiparcus, let him see us dye e're touch an Oare.
Twill resolve him what we dare.
Cecil.
Has my brother lost all his nature, then
I shall not wonder that I have lost the interest
Of a sister. Can you be a King, and have
Neither mercy nor justice? Farewell, hence forth
I may obey but n'ere approve the Act.
They offer to lead Hip. and Paus. off.
Hold Sertanes, looke upon their wounds, yee Gods!
Ought any thing that chance ownes make men fall
So low, that we should esteeme 'em lesse then
Beasts, see they bleed still, canst thou leave 'em
Like dogges to licke those wounds, whose every drop
Of blood I can witnesse, fell a sacrifice
To honour, oh! tis a fault, a fault I feare
The gods will punish; as if men in misery
Had no soules, or slaves did not upwards looke.
Ki.
Hold Sortanes, unbinde em, they are your Prisoners
Now; and as you please dispose of em.
Thinke not my nature cruell, or that I
Fround upon them, for Kings doe often so
Vpon the fault when they pitty the man,
Yet if I get the head of this Serpent, he
Shall finde our Iustice with its full weight,
But weele crush him.
Cecil.
Now I kneele to you sir.
Ki.
What meanes my sister? rise, my occasions
Give me leave onely to say farewell, till
My returne Philon, obey my sister
As my selfe.
Cecil.
The gods blesse and guide the King.
Ki.
Sortanes, command the officers aboard,
With the next tide.
Exit
Cecil.
Cosen Philon, pray let your care provide
For those men.
Exit
Pau.
Oh Hiparcus, I am lost ere I have found my selfe
And have fought for bonds, come my friend.
Hip.
That title confirmes my life; for now I finde.
My rage did not destroy my selfe, and through
Thy wounds let out thy friendship, with joy
I live to redeeme thy fault.
Pau.
Oh Hiparcus this be my witnesse, thy friendship
Growes here, nor wert thou faulty, nor doe I
Want an argument, thou hadst reason, and I had love
Whose power yet thou never felt'st, but when
Thou shalt finde he is undisscern'd got in,
And in this bosome displayes his fiery wings,
Then lite me withall that Light thou'lt finde
Thou art in the darke, and thus stoope to the
Willing yoke, sighing for what thou wouldst not
Part with: these, these Hiparcus are the wounds
I feare, those the sword makes are remedies, and
If deepe enough, bring a certaine cure
Enter Philon.
Phi.
This way Gentlemen.
Hip.
We shall follow sir.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Eucratia, Lucanthe, Dion, Gallippus, Cremnofield, Zenon.Lu.
Noble Gallippus thus to venture your selfe
And fortunes in our hazard is an obligation
We know not how to pay; for the preparation
You speake of, brings our certaine ruine, if
Gal.
Pray Madam from whence springs his anger?
Eu.
Tis just: you know the cause of this warre, our
Country blest beyond our neighbours, with a
Fruitfull peace, drew us into a consideration
How we became to be so happy, and
In the search, we found ambition
Had no dwelling here: For our customes
Admit no one man chiefe which kept all from
That sinne. For our government is here in
The hands of a Priest and Iudge, which are
Chosen by lot, not faction, and their power
During Life if they obey our lawes. One
Of which has begot this danger, for when
Our predecessors made their vow to peace;
A law was then enacted to prohibit
Our taking armes, but in our owne defence.
Lucan.
This law the King credits not, for when we
Return'd it as the reason that forbad us,
Yeelding the ayde he then implored, he
Sayes we urged it but to hide our trecherie.
And concludes we assisted his enemy,
Because we refus'd him ayde; and now
Having labour'd through that storme, his rage
Bends this way.
Dion.
And at a time when we
Have neither Armes nor councell to defend us,
Now Madam the punishments your fathers have
Cald downe pursue us, their counsell and your
Brothers swords, were aides which we shall finde best,
When to our despaires we feele the want.
Crem.
Yet let us not quit our selves, when we must
Fall, the deerer we sell our lives the greater
Fame will waite us, nor have our men forgot
To fight, though we left to invade.
Gall.
Spoke like a Souldier!
Crem.
Tis no regular fortification; twill stay a leape.
Gall.
Madam, I beseech you remove your feares,
They are ill Omens, here speake courage,
You know not what miracles we may act.
The night comes on a pace, pray retire to
Your rest while Cremnofield, Dion, and my selfe
Goe set the watch and provide for the receite
Of these strangers that come thus rudely
Without inviting.
Eucr.
Wee'le goe and joyne our strength of prayer
With your armes which I hope will protect us.
They faile to conquer them.
Exit.
Gall.
Ile but order my Gallies to joyne with yours,
And be ready ith'Harbour to board them
As they come straggling in, then Ile meete you
Vpon the guard.
Dion.
Eucratia is the word to night, farewell.
Exit all but Gall.
Gall.
Farewell shallow fooles, thinke ye Gallippus
Will sell his blood for aiery honour, no,
Tis revenge or the satisfying some other
Lust ingages me. Therefore Ile to my Gally,
And while this darke protect us, command
Zenon to launch from the harbour. And in
A little Creeke lye loose and undiscover'd
With his Gally; tis wisdome to secure
A Retreate nor will I againe put my
Happinesse in the power of slaves whose trechery,
Wrack'd my soule and depriv'd me of the pleasures
I had promis'd to my selfe, in faire Cecillia.
But these have removed that paine, for he
That like me loves beauty, where ere he meetes
It, sowes his love and when he enjoyes it
Reapes his interest.
Exit.
Scena Tertia.
Enter Cecillia and Philon.Cecil.
Was the Fleet within sight of land
This mornining?
Phi.
Yes Madam they have hung about the Ile
Of---these foure dayes kept backe by
Contrary windes.
Cecil.
When returnes the Gally that came from my brother?
Phi
This tide he puts off.
Cecil.
This opportunitie then will advance
My designe. Have you fitted those prisoners
With a disguise?
Phi.
Yes Madam.
Cecil.
Harke whats that? a Lute! are they musicall?
Phi.
Yes Madam one of 'em playes and sings.
A Song.
Fond Pausanes let not thy love aspire
To hope of comming higher,
But let thy faith grow up under a cloud
Of being not alow'd
And still persue thy love till she like well
To know it but thou not tell,
Next thy care must be she not perceive
Thou beleev'st she has given leave,
Thy love and sufferings thus being humbly told
And not a sigh too bold:
To be discern'd least thou love too loud.
Whilst fairely thus thou do'st thy love pursue
Pretending nothing due,
In time her heart may grow to wish thee well
Whether she will or no,
By such soft steps as these and slow degrees,
And ever on his knees,
Pausanes still shall approach his blisse,
But not come neare enough to misse;
But at a distance looke and love
And see her farre above,
Yet not wish her descending to my sense,
Or hope of meeting but my influence.
Cecil.
Call him hither.
Exit Philon.
Now Cecillia arme thy selfe
With resolution, that thy sex may not
Still be cald weake; nor thou yeeld to thy passion,
Lest this god in a cloud deceive thee, and
Force thee with his yeeldings, he sings his actions,
And acts his opinions, which makes him
A dangerous friend; hee's one that boldly dares,
Yet humbly loves; he strucke his master, yet
Bow'd to me, and when his rage had fild
His eyes with fire, he sighing turn'd, and looking
This way in languishing streames quencht
Their rising flames. O power of honour! that
Makes this so in him: And honour me! not
To returne his love, it starts me! To finde
Honour pleasd still to confound our reason,
And puts us to our acts of faith; but see
They come, their hands wove in friendship.
Paus.
Doe thou speake while I collect my selfe;
Yet doe not; why should I refuse
By my disorder to speak her power,
If she deserve my love, I'me certaine shee'le
Command my feare. Nor is it a dishonour
To shake here, tis not I tell Hiparcus
Tis not, these are valiant feares, and
Ile speake to her in what my heart thrust out,
For by my life, all that I have resolv'd of,
I have quite forgot.
Hip.
But doe not rashly tempt her to a scorne.
Scorne? O no Hiparchus, if e're her softnesse
Hath felt loves power, she knowes his
Proper language is free prose. And their
Distractions wrap the powerfull'st truth
Bondage, verse tells us they are too much themselves,
Nor is he affected that can compose
His sufferings: See where she stands.
They kneele.
Cecil.
Rise, your freedome is the bounty of another
And the thankes not due to me, I sent for you
To tell you my brother is now upon
A designe for Sardinia, but has beene staid
By crosse winds so that you may overtake
Him (ere he lands) in a Gally, which this morning
Is bound for him, and in this disguise
By striking on his partie unknowne pay
His bounty.
Hip.
Arme us Madam, and you shall heare
How deepe I'le plow, how thicke I'le sow their wounds
But I'le reape the honour; my mistake has
Lost me in striking against your vertue:
And now we are friends Pausanes and Hiparcus
Vndivided draw, I thinke we shall not
To say we are not often conquered
But by our selves: And then though
Pausanes be victor, Hipercus triumphes.
Pau.
We can be gratefull Madam, though not fortunate.
Cecil.
That's my Q. pray let me be thankfull toe,
Lest you thinke I can onely councell it:
Within this Cabinet I beleeve is in value
She fetches a Cabinet and offers it to Hipercus.
As much as my person would have yeelded
At a Mart, if it be lesse
Tis the modest opinion I ought to have
Of mine owne worth makes me faultie
In the summe, for any other consideration
Take this too.
She gives a Choice.
Hip.
Tis just Madam that you throw this scorne
On me, for I confesse the fault lookt as
If I had fought for money: which opinion
My refusall now I hope will remove.
Cecil.
Pray take it;
Why should you receive wounds for me?
Hip.
I doe not let my selfe out to dangers,
Nor is it my trade to fight: wounds and blood
Are neither my daily labour nor the
Sweat of my brow; They are honours and pay
Themselves: If I have courage, tis a gift
The gods sent me freely, and as their blessing
Freely I'le dispence it.
Cecil.
Your pardon Sir. I meant no injurious
Vpbraiding, for by my life I doe not thinke
You faultie: if you will not be
Rewarded, yet give me leave to supply your wants.
Hip.
I kisse your Charitie.
Cecil.
What to give him I know not, oh unequall
Him perish, because I know how to save him!
I must not stay, I know y'are friends and what
The one has is but the others store,
I wish yee may be fortunate
My last words, e're I knew what you were
Pau.
O stay! unbind me ere you goe: And heare
My soule labour'd with admiration
Of your beauties, but since I was blest
With knowledge of your diviner part, all
Your acts from honour sprung have collected
Those sparkes your eyes kindled and th'are
Blowne to a flame here, here it burnes
And thougu this Altar (divinest) be built
Vpon the meanest earth, scorne it not, for
My offering shall be of the purest love,
And my sighes shall constant incense breath.
Cecil.
What thou might'st have done I know not,
But I'm sure thou canst not now, thou hast sayd
Too much: Go fight, fight, for thou know'st not how
To love. Oh woman, woman, woman still!
Speakes aside.
Pau.
Not love? What stranger then is this that's got
In here and wanders so to seeke; not love?
Tis he or Cowardise crept in, no third cause
Can beget the feares the tremblings, I
Labour with; Oh! teach me how to know him.
Cecil.
That stranger when thou meet'st him at the eye
Thou wilt finde he is conceiv'd in fire and in
And instant growes to perfect forme!
Thence in fulnesse of time, he takes his birth
Into the heart which is his world, and there.
If he prove a healthy love, he lives
In silence, the tongue has no pure 'ith birth
Of gallant loves, nor are they long lov'd
That make their Exits that way, the true birthes
Their life through the eye, this is love: thine
A short liv'd passion, I feare.
(I feare) spoke aside.
Pau.
My passions are no faults Madam, when
I master 'em, when we doe not serve them
We command admiration, or should I yeeld
To 'em, could any passion be unbecomming
That has so beautifull a cause as the
Faire Cecillia, who I feare has beene
Vs'd to such Hecatombs of hearts, that
My single one being but a slaves might well
Be scorned at your shrine, yet if you be
That power that my thoughts have worshipt,
Ye must confesse he that offers all, though
A begger, sacrifices equall to a King.
O turne not from me, but be like those Gods
She turnes away.
You bow to, which though they give and guard
Our flockes, yet accept a Lambe.
Cecil.
Plead no more, if thou lov'st thou wilt preferre me,
Aside.
I must not, dare not understand, I am too much
A party to heare him pleade.
Pau.
O doe not shew the severall wayes you have
To wound: May the fire for ever
Inhabite in those eyes, but doe not in frownes
Dart it this way.
Cecil.
Be gon then. And consider what thou suest for.
A slave by his passion crowned, and
A Princesse by her inthron'd.
Pau.
Doe but beleeve I love tis all I begge,
Strike me heaven, if I have so faultie a wish
As to attempt the unshrining such a power
Or would live to see your beautie fall
From this vast nationall ador'd condition,
O say! Doe you beleeve I love?
Cecil.
Yes, yes, I beleeve and feare.
Pau.
O continue that friendly faith;
I'le at a distance kneele, for tis a wealth
Here he reverences and kneeles.
Ile pray for, fight to keepe, and weepe
To part with: and if that way of obtayning
That way of keeping, and this sense of losse
Ask'd with a whole heart, and with a whole
Heart defended, but parted from with a broken one,
Can confirme it all joyes.
She in passion interrupts him and in disdaine speakes and leaves him.
Cecil.
Peace, be gone. Cecillia collect thy selfe
For thou art lost. O yee gods
Would yee had given more, or that I had knowne
Lesse of Honour.
Pausanes startes againe.
Pau.
Hyparchus my friend I finde my misery,
And conjure thee that if thou outlive us,
Steale some of my ashes into her urne, that
In our earth being become equall
We may become one.
Exit.
Hip.
This is strange, yet tis the best kinde of anger,
And the storme is to friend, if I can judge a woman.
Exit.
| The Prisoners | |