 | The Injured Princess, or the Fatal Wager |  |
ACT V.
Ursaces Solus.Ursa.
From hollow Rocks and solitary Caves,
Where the evil Genius hunts the Miserable,
To mask in Shades, and shun the chearful Light,
Wretched Ursaces back to Britain comes,
Bearing this bloody witness of his Cruelty:
Heart-killing Sight! The Blood that stains this Linnen,
Once swell'd the Veins of the mildest, fairest, chastest;
O but not chast! In that my praise exceeded:
That Title fatally she lost, and now
Has paid too dearly for't;—yet divine Heaven,
Should every one that forfeits Honour, be
Depriv'd of Life, thy World wou'd be unpeopl'd.
The full fed City-Dame would sin in fear;
The Divine's Daughter slight the amorous Cringe
Of her tall Lover; the close salacious Puritan
Forget th'Appointment with her canting Brother.
Should rigorous Death punish the venial Error,
The fashion of the World would be abolish'd.
How great then is my Crime? I am brought hither
Disguis'd amongst the Cavalry, to fight
Against my Ladies Kingdom.—But 'tis enough, dear
Britain, I have kill'd thy Mistress.
Peace, I'le give no Wound to thee,
But mourn my fault, and fall in thy defence:
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Unhappy, and has done some deadly Sin,
In Conscience struck, by some good Act does try
To merit Heav'n—make his peace and die.
[Exit.
Enter King, Lords, and Captains, and the Britain Army at one Door, and Lucius, Shattillion, and the Roman Army at another: Trumpets sound a Parley.
Cymb.
It grieves me I have reason Caius Lucius,
To meet thee thus in Arms—the Bower of Peace,
For my now frozen and unwieldy Age,
Were fitter than the noisie Tents of War,
Were Honour not concern'd.—Say therefore, General,
Is there yet left a way, our Honour safe,
That we may end the Difference without Battel?
Lucius.
The Tribute due to Cæsar being paid,
You are in peace, and we'le return to Rome.
Cymb.
That were ignoble, and not like a King.
Tho' Julius Cæsar made a Conquest here,
And of Casibelan had a Grant for Tribute,
I'me not oblig'd to pay it.
Silvio.
There may be many Cæsars,
Ere such another Julius.—Ours is a World by't self,
And the hardy Britains, Sir, will nothing pay,
For wearing their own Noses.
Shatt.
They shall pay,
If the cull'd Power of Rome and Gaul can make 'um:
But we have always noted you hard Britains,
As you call your selves, most valiant in your Talk,
And know you can run with an unmatch'd Celerity.
Cymb.
Now by my Crown,
You shall not buy us cheaply, nor shall this Isle,
That stands like Neptune's Park, pal'd round with Oaks,
And fenc'd with roaring Waters, e're pay Tribute,
While Cymbeline's alive.
Lucius.
Then for Augustus, thus I bid defiance:
[Draws.
Cæsar who has more tributary Kings,
Than thou domestick Slaves, and in his Name,
Bid thee prepare for Battel.
Cymb.
I take thee at thy word: Charge, charge my Friends;
This is your happy hour: Draw all your Swords,
And fight for Liberty, Cymbeline and Britain.
Lucius.
For Honour, Rome and Cæsar, we.
Shatt.
Charge, charge there.
[Shout here.
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Ursa.
Make good the Breach, whilst I defend the King.
Bellar.
Stand Britains, we have the advantage of the Ground,
The Enemies disorder'd.
Pallad.
Stand, stand and fight.
Arvir.
All Plagues pursue 'um, do they run already?
The Britains return and fight, and the Romans are beaten off; Bellarius, Palladore, and Arviragus follow them; Manent the King, and Ursaces, and Britains.
Cymb.
My Life's indebted to thy Valour. Speak,
What art thou? for I know thee not.
Ursa.
A Gentleman, and the Lover of the King.
Cymb.
Thou art brave, and well deserv'st a Monarch's Favour.
The Battel ended, see me in my Tent,
Where I'le load Honours on thee.
[Exit King and Britains.
Ursa.
Fetters rather.
Did he but know 'twas I that kill'd Eugenia;
O dreadful Sound! But stay, there is a deed
Must yet be done.—I'me tardy.—Now for Vengeance.
[Exit.
Enter Eugenia, Lucius, and Shattillion.
Lucius.
Inconstant Chance wavering, and Woman-like,
Smile once more on us.—Was ever day thus chang'd!
Those that within this hour ran from our Swords,
Like fearful Hares before the full-mouth'd Cry,
Now turn, pursue, and chace us from the Field:
Oh Devil Fate.
Shatt.
The old Man and his Sons fought like Devils,
There was no coming near 'um; they have pepper'd
All my Taper-Gallians, there's hardly one of 'em left
To give his Mistress an account of Valour.
Eugen.
This is that Devil Shattillion, now I know him,
The fatal Cause of all my Miseries.
Shatt.
They toss'd me up and down the Field like a Foot-ball,
I may thank my activity for my Life.
[Shout within.
Lucius.
Hark, they pursue us,—and all is lost.
Away, Boy, from the Field, and save thy self;
Now Friends kill Friends, and there's no hope of safety.
Shatt.
Mine is secure, I've a Project for't.
Lucius.
O treacherous Fortune!
[Exit.
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Bellar.
Let us pursue yon scatter'd Troops, where Lucius
Seeks safety by base flight;—when he is taken,
The day's our own, and haughty Rome must bow
To th'British Power.—Come Sons,—my dear Arviragus,
Thou hast shown thy self the Hero of the Battel.
Arvir.
I am not flesh'd enough; Come, follow, follow,
I will my self take Lucius.
[Exeunt.
Enter Shattillion disguis'd like a Britain.
Shatt.
Let Roman Fools give up themselves to Bondage,
While I by Wit gain Freedom.
Thus habited like a Britain, have I pass'd
Through all their Troops,—unseen or unsuspected,
And now with happy speed design for Milford,
From thence to ship to Gallia,—where in safety
I'le laugh at this Contrivance, and with pleasure boast
Of my kind Fortune.
Enter Ursaces and Britains; Beaupre meeting him, Shattillion starts.
Ursa.
Disguises cannot save thee, I know thee, Devil,
By more than vulgar Signs.
Shatt.
The very Devil has not a blacker Fiend, that I
Would sooner shun, than thee; but come, thou
Know'st me, what's the Result on't?
Ursa.
Death and Damnation.
Shatt.
A kind of an odd Reward for a man of my Parts:
But I'me of a Religion, Sir, that tells me,
My Life's not in your power, if taken nobly.
Ursa.
Not in my power? Yes,
If Heaven swerve not from its awful Justice,
I'me sure I have. Think on Eugenia,
O Devil think on her! She that was once
The dear lov'd Genius of this happy Countrey;
The brightest beam of Light that grac'd the World,
Made by thee black as the Shades of Hell,
Where now she wanders in the Vale of Horror.
Remember her, and let thy Soul despair.
Shatt.
Ha! Is Eugenia dead then?
Ursa.
Dead? Why didst thou think I was so tame a Fool,
To let her live after her horrid Crime?
Couldst thou imagine I would quench my Thirst
At that vile Spring, where the sordid Bruit had trampl'd,
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Or let the spotted Serpent sting agen,
That had already poyson'd me?
Shatt.
If thou hast kill'd her, thou art miserable
Above Mankind.
Ursa.
I am, and by thee made so.
Shatt.
She was innocent, rash man.
Ursa.
Hah!
Shatt.
Innocent, I swear, as Angels; chast as the Phænix,
And was indeed the Phænix of the World,
And never to be equall'd.
Ursa.
These are Lyes which more perplex my Soul,
Than thou that mak'st 'em, and Riddles shan't
Save your Life, Sir.
Shatt.
Now I dare fight with thee
With a full heart.—Thou rash, thou wretched Creature,
Thou hast kill'd the only best of all her kind,
Eclips'd a Planet Heaven in mercy gave,
To bless and beautifie the World.
Ursa.
Still Riddles:—Doubts to plague me; but I'le try
Whether in Death you'l have the gift of Lying.
Stand you apart.
[To the Britains.
Shatt.
Come on, and summon all thy skill and vigor,
For I will meet thee, fell as the hungry Lyoness
In the wild Desart, roving for her prey.
Ursa.
I'me pleas'd to know, that we with equal rage
Do play our parts in this bold Scene of death,
Occasion'd by dishonouring a Princess:
That Crime will dam thy Soul when Life is lost,
Which thus I offer to Eugenia's Ghost.
[Fight, Shatt. falls.
Shatt.
Thou hast perform'd thy word:
My warm Blood
Flows from my Heart, and my departing Soul
Swims on the surface of the purple Gore:
O too small recompence for Eugenia's wrongs,
That bless'd, that innocent Princess!
Ursa.
O Heaven!
Shatt.
Nay thou'lt wonder more anon: Know then rash
Credulous Fool, I did betray the Princess.
Ursa.
Betray? how betray? O speak on;
For thou art now a Prophet to my sence,
And all thy words are Oracles? How innocent?
And how was she betray'd?
Shatt.
I'le tell the Cause I hate thee, therefore observe me:
I did bely her Vertue, and by Cunning obtain'd
The knowledge of her Apartment and Person.
Ursa.
By Cunning say'st thou?—Break not yet my Brain;
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Say how by Cunning.
Shatt.
Cunning that now I hope may chance to dam thee.
I got my self convey'd into her Chamber, and at dead
Of night, she innocently sleeping, took view o'th'
Hangings, Furniture and Pictures, and all which
When return'd to Gaul I told you.
Ursa.
Horrid and damn'd Impostor! But say further,
Speak on thy Soul, how didst thou get that Bracelet?
Shatt.
There as she slept I cut it from her Arm,
And viewing nearer, saw the Mole I spoke of.
Ursa.
And this is true, as thou hast of rest?
Shatt.
What e're I hope, rest or unrest, 'tis true. But Oh
My Soul is wandring to its unknown home,
My Blood's all Ice!
[Dies.
Ursa.
Then am I damn'd more than the worst of Fiends:
Heav'n keep not now thy Thunderbolt in vain,
To shoot at Trees, or cleave the marble Rocks,
But dart it here; here on this wretched Head
Throw thy swift Bolt, and dash me to the Center;
Let Hell devour me quick, the Fiends dissect me,
Burn, cut me atomes.—O revenge, revenge
The innocent Eugenia! Here he stands
That caus'd her to be murder'd; dam him, dam him;
Bathe him in molten Glass;—let a Cabal of Furies
Meet and consult t'invent new Tortures for him,
And be his Pangs eternal. He comes, ye Fiends,
Swift as old Lucifer, when first he fell,
And with this stroak transports himself to Hell.
[Offers to fall on his Sword.
Capt.
That must not be while we stand tamely by.
[The Britt. hold.
Souldiers, he has confess'd he kill'd
The Princess; let's bear him to the King.
Death is too kind a punishment, he merits the worst
Of Tortures: O horrid Murderer, away with him!
Ursa.
Let me kneel before thee,
And thank thee for that Judgement: Thou art wise,
And 'tis most true that only Death is much too kind;
I deserve Pains greater than Tongue can utter,
Or barb'rous Policy invent.
Capt.
Who cou'd imagine so much Villany
Cou'd dwell with so much Courage?
Ursa.
And shall tame lazy Death be all my Torture?
No, I have yet more Conscience than to hope it.
Poysons and Flames,
Racks, burning Iron, and flaming Lead,
Hot Pincers, Daggers, suffocating Water,
All, all are nothing, I will my self find greater:
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Were by the State made Judges of all Criminals,
Because they best knew how to weigh and punish;
So I that know my self, my self will doom,
By Tortures here out-pain my Hell to come.—
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Palace backward.Enter Cymbeline, Bellarius, Palladore, Arviragus, Silvio, Lucius and Eugenia, as Prisoners, Guards, and Attendants.
Cymb.
Noble old Man, and you most worthy pair,
That Heav'n has made preserver of my Honour,
Let me embrace you: Yet is there a Fourth,
That in my tide of Thanks deserves large share.
He that bestrid me, gasping on the ground,
And like stern Ajax, with his shining Buckler,
Secur'd my Life from Storms of Roman Fury,
Where is he, that I may unclew my grateful Heart,
To pay the Debts I owe him?
Bellar.
Since his last Sally he has not been seen,
Though we have search'd among the Dead and Living,
And much I fear he's lost.
Cymb.
A Kingdom were too small to buy his Virtue.
Lucius.
Now great Cymbeline,
I conjure thee by thy Fortune, grant me a Request:
Let my poor Boy be ransom'd;—never Master had
A Page so kind, so dutious, diligent,
So modestly affected to his Master,—nor
So unwearied in his Service.—Let his Vertue joyn
With my Request, which I'le presume your Majesty
Will soon find in him. He is of this Countrey,
And has done no Britain harm, tho' he has
Serv'd a Roman.—Save but him, Sir,
And spare no Life besides.
Cymb.
Let me see his Face. Ha, what strange Surprize
Is this! I have seen him somewhere, methinks
His Features are familiar to me. Boy,
Thou hast look'd thy self into my Favour, live.
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I humbly thank you Majesty.
Pallad.
It must be the Boy Fidele, I'le speak to the King.
Enter Ursaces.
Cymb.
What, my Preserver?
Does he then live? You holy Powers, I thank ye:
Let me embrace thee, thou best, thou bravest man;
And that I may be grateful for thy service,
Ask what thou wilt on the King's word 'tis thine.
Ursa.
Had ever Fiend such mercy? Royal Sir,
Refer your bounty till you find my merit;
Know, I am that Ursaces whom you banish'd,
For yet you know not how much I deserve.
Cymb.
Ursaces! What miracle is this?
Eugen.
Oh Heaven!
Ursa.
He Sir? A Basilisk that wounds you to the Soul
With his contagious Aspect.—Remember Eugenia,
Your heav'nly Daughter:
Think Sir, O think upon her.
Cymb.
Ha! where is she?
Speak, speak: O doubt not but I think of her.
Ursa.
You do, you must, I know it.—Now then as the Angels
From glorious lucid Thrones, eternal Mansions,
Look down and see the damn'd wallow in horrour;
So without regret or pity look upon me,
A worser Fiend, worse damn'd, for worser Reasons:
I like a sacrilegious Thief broke open
Vertues best Temple, and from the shining Altar
Impiously stole the consecrated Vessel,
The Gods had treasur'd up for their own use.
Cymb.
My blood flows to my heart; say, dost thou mean
Her Life, her precious Life?
Ursa.
The best of Lives she lost, and by my Order.
Cymb.
Then art thou damn'd indeed.
Ursa.
Then am I damn'd indeed? O true Assertion!
And see I thus submit me to be tortur'd,
Thus fall at thy Slave's feet, and beg for justice.
Be dark, thou Sun,
And be ye lesser Lights extinguish'd all:
Be Nature sick, let Shades surround the World,
And Order cease, till my Eugenia, the fair, the best Eugenia,
Be in my horrid torturing Death reveng'd.
Eugen.
Shine brighter Sun,
And all ye happy Stars glimmer for joy,
At this unlook'd for Change. Oh my dear Husband!
Here is thy Wife, here is Eugenia;
Once more receive me as the gift of Heaven.
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Oh my Souls Joy! Canst thou e're pardon me?
Canst thou forget?
Eugen.
Heaven knows, with all my heart;
But let me beg you doubt my Faith no more.
Ursa.
If I do, may Heav'n forsake me ever,
And thou my better Genius cease to guide me.
Cymb.
Has Love so blinded thee thou hast forgot me?
Dost thou not know thy Father?
Eugen.
O my Lord!
So thrive my Soul as in my best of Duty
My heart is vow'd to you: Pray pardon me.
Cymb.
Let this declare I do.
Enter Pisanio, Clarinna.
Pisan.
Where, where's my Lord Ursaces? lead me to him.
Ursa.
Ha! His Eyes lost, and for my sake I fear:
Speak good old Friend, whose cruel deed was this?
Pisan.
'Twas Cloten's; but if you love me, do not pity me:
For this was I ordain'd, and well can bear it.
Where is the Princess? let me kiss her Hand.
Eugen.
Come not near me, Murderer:
Thou left'st me in the Desart, and gavest me Poyson.
Pisan.
Poyson? May then the swift Lightning blast me,
If the Box I gave you was not thought by me
Of precious value; I had it from the Queen.
Eugen.
Most like it did, for I was dead a while.
Bellar.
My Boys, there was our Errour.
Pisan.
My Pity swaying over your Command, my Lord,
I had no heart to kill her.
Ursa.
'Twas heav'nly Mercy;
[Embraces him.
For hadst thou done it, O what Misery,
What Hells had I endur'd?
Pisan.
I left her to Heavens Mercy in a Desart,
Where after I found Cloten and Jachimo,
Dragging my Daughter with barbarous design,
In whose defence, bold Jachimo I slew,
And then lost my Eyes by Cloten's Cruelty;
But what befel him afterwards I know not.
Arvir.
Then let me end the Story, I kill'd him there.
Cymb.
Heaven forbid, brave Youth:
I would not thy good Deed should be rewarded
With a fatal Sentence; prithee deny't agen.
Arvir.
Sir, I spoke it, and I did it.
Cymb.
He was a Prince.
Arvir.
A most uncivil one.
Cymb.
Bind the Offendor, and take him from our presence.
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Nay then stay Sir, hear me speak;
First pay me for the breeding of your Sons.
Cymb.
Breeding my Sons?
Bellar.
Perhaps I am too bold: Thus bow my Knee then,
And e're I rise I will prefer these two;
Then spare not the old Man. Mighty Sir,
These two young Gentlemen that call me Father,
And think they are my Sons sprung from your loyns,
To you are debtors for their Beings.
Cymb.
Me?
Bellar.
To you Sir; you are their Parent,
Their Nurse Euriphele,
Whom I with Gold corrupted, stole these Children,
By which I thought my self reveng'd for Banishment:
But now they'r yours agen, and I must lose
Two of the best Companions in the World;
All blessing from the kind and bounteous Heav'ns,
Fall on their heads like Dew; for they are worthy
To inlay Heaven like Stars.
Cymb.
Welcome, welcome,
Ye Pillars of my Age.—O my Eugenia,
Thou hast lost by this a Kingdom!
Eugen.
No, my Lord,
I have got two Worlds by it.
Cymb.
I'le have no sadness now, this is a day of Joy;
[Prisoners freed.
The Pris'ners shall be freed, our Enemies pardon'd,
The Streets of Ludds-Town shall with Bonfires shine,
And all the Temples smoak with Sacrifices.
Thou art my Brother, so I hold thee ever.
[Embraces Bell.
Pallad.
Our Actions, Royal Sir, shall still declare,
We will not shame our Births.
Arvir.
Tho' bred up in a Cave,
Our Thoughts were high as Palaces, and our Souls
Soar'd still above our level: For our Valours,
Let 'em be try'd, and if we flinch in Battel,
Then let some Hero of the bloody Field
Defame and call us Slaves, not Sons to Cymbeline.
Cymb.
You are my Nerves, my Sinews, and my Age
Is firmer now than Youth. Valiant Ursaces,
Thou too art of our Blood, and by Eugenia
Claim'st a full part: But O beware of Jealousie,
That worst of Passions, cherish'd by the blood,
And nourish'd by destruction! For what's past,
Let it be all forgotten.—Love Eugenia;
The Gods have link'd your Destinies together,
Then now receive her from a Father's hand.
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How like the Accent of some pitying God?
The King then spoke:
I swear you have outdone the Deities,
Giv'n me the brightest Jewel of Perfection.
O my fair Love! Was ever Joy like mine?
Did ever Raptures touch a Heart so nearly,
Or shoot with so much fierceness through the Soul?
The excess on't is so great, sure it will kill me.
Thus as some wounded Hero,
That where most danger was, press'd forward still,
At last his Life owes to Physicians skill:
So Love, the bless'd Physician of the Mind,
Heals all my Griefs, immortal Joys I find,
And Heaven on Earth, whilst my Eugenia's kind.
| The Injured Princess, or the Fatal Wager | |