University of Virginia Library

ACT. I.

SCE. I.

Enter Lapardas. Ducas.
Du.
'Tis strange! and were't not for that ready faith
I owe your Lordship, I had sooner taken
Another Article to my Creed:—A Woman!
And yet so large a soul—your Lordship's merry.

La.
Troth no, she fixt me Ducas—when I saw
How she first took the question; stated it;
Ran the whole matter; and where danger offer'd,
Past it with such a careless scorn—Believe me
It made me wonder into what narrow crany
My soul had crept;—

Du.
You've such a knack at speeching;
You either find 'um good, or make 'um so;
Rack me no longer (dearest Sir) let's have it:

La.
And willingly—we met—you know the place;
Nor was th'appearance small; And as in Councils,
There never was a fool (at least, that would
Be thought so) Ev'ry man let fly his bolt;
One offer'd this; Another, that; The point,
Was common danger; All agreed the thing,
But few, the way of helping it; that plague,
And mischief of great actions (Let's do better)
Had so unhing'd their souls; until Maria
Sum'd up their little all—Told 'um, th'ad lost
The question; and 'twas not their wel-being,
But being, was the point; not what Greece should be,
But whose it was—and when they threw in doubts;
That thou hadst seen her how she blew 'um off;
Snufft at their scruples—and is this (quoth she)
The Lion in the way? Can danger baulk
Men once resolv'd?—Be that Bugbear mine;
I dare encounter it, and act, what e're
You all dare think.—

Du.
'Twas a brave Virago;
A wonder of her Sex! A Phœnix sure!

La.
I: you'd have sworn it, had you heard that world,
Of which, this is but an imperfect Globe;
A wrong side of the hangings.—

Du.
But my Lord;
How was it relish'd? Did not their seats grow warm?

La.
No—But they all lookt wistly one on t'other,
As who would say, 'twas true enough, but yet
Some passages might have been well forborn:

Du.
What was the issue?—

La.
Why,—they all shook hands,
And by a general vote, center'd in this;
That men, and monies must be rais'd, to break
The present faction; and themselves would do't:
Next, that Andronicus be invited home
To head the forces; which, Maria pray'd
Might be her part o'th' work; which once agreed,
Sooner than thought they fell into their gears,
Each man subscrib'd his task, gave order streight
For her instructions, and have since dispatcht her:

Du.
But no account as yet?—

La.
Not possible:
'Tis scarce 2 months since she departed hence,
And we forbad all Packets; But, this night
She is expected:—Good my Lord be there;
Your Proxy'll serve no longer; I have told 'um
Your Gout is over.—

Du.
I shall my Lord: my fate
Runs hand in hand with yours:
Enter Mamalus.
But see! who's coming yonder? I'm mistaken
Or 'tis Mamalus—He was an honest Courtier,
And our true friend—why should not he make one?

La.
He is best able; All the affairs of Greece
Have past his hand, and with no ill success:

Du.
Let's try—my Honour for his secresie.

La.
With all my heart:—see—he comes up to you.

Du.
Mamalus! save you;—'Tis an age, or better,
Since we last met.—

Ma.
The loss (my Lords) was mine:

La.
But whence our friend? turn'd Courtier agen?
How goes all there?

Ma.
Troth I've scarce seen the place,
Since my great Lord, and master, Manuel dy'd;
I can nor fawn, nor truckle.

La.
Pettish I warrant!—I'm asham'd, Mamalus,
Is it a Courtiers part to shew his teeth,
Before he bite? to breath a pityful revenge,
E're he have power to act—No,—great mens injuries,
Are best remedy'd, by not understanding 'um,
Or seeming t'ave forgot 'um, whereas otherwise,
Y'are sure to be prevented with a greater;
Have a good heart:—I not forbid thee strike,
But do it sure.—

Ma.
Your Lordship's wide o'th' mark;
Yet since you name the Court, when were you there?

Du.
Troth we come there, and that is all: we're grown,
Barely spectators; idle lookers on:
Sometimes perhaps, out of a Complement,
To countenance a buisness, or concur;
We're call'd to Council too:

La.
And what of that?
Matters of consequence, we must not know,
Nor is it out of love to us, but fear,
Of what may follow, that we've kept our heads.

Ma.
And can you blame me then, that have no stake,
If I sit out, when you that have the greatest,
Have such ill carding?—

Du.
Break his neck that packt 'um;
Come,—joyn with us—Shuffle, and cut agen:

Ma.
I am no Conjurer; your Lordship must
Speak plainer, e're I understand you right.

La.
Give us thy hand, and word for secresie.

Ma.
You have 'um both.—

La.
Then to be short, w'are lost;
And so's the Empire—Now to recover it,
Most of the Lords, and Officers of state,
Are joyn'd, Nor want we Men, or Arms, or Money:
Andronicus the head, at least we hope so.

Ma.
But why my Lords such hast? Must a man Lop
A limb cause out of joynt? knock out his brains,
To cure the Head-ach?—what's to be done but once,
Should be considered twice:—Mutations
Are ever dangerous, even where the thing
Might have been good, and profitable at first;
It being impossible to provide against
Those inconveniences, we can't foresee.

La.
But there's no other way—Has not Sebastus
Turn'd us quite Topsy Turvy?—Disoblig'd;
The Nobles trampl'd under foot the Commons?

Ma.
'Tis granted:—But, why this last remedy?
Bear it a little;—Time, many work it off:
Come, come; Close with him: Blow the bladder stiff,
And it must crack:—By pulling others down,
He has o're built himself.—

Du.
We've often thought so,
But find it otherwise.—

Ma.
Admitting yet,
You must be changing; how are you secure
He that comes next, shall not be worse?—who (Pray)
Shall keep the Keepers?—

Du.
We have order'd that.

Ma.
But why Andronicus of all the world?

Du.
Why? He's a Soldier; and a Prince o' th' blood;
And valiant enough;—

Ma.
So much the worse:
What were a vertue in another, in him,
May prove a crime:—He is too near the Crown
Already; and this gives him th'occasion,
Of grasping that, he has so long design'd:
I dare not—Nay, I must not joyn—The wolf,
Shall never have my voice to make him Shepheard;
But yet, to shew your Lordships I'll be secret,
I'll trust you with as much.—You may remember;
My Master banisht him; but why, I'll tell you.
He is a Prince of the most daring soul
Er'e dropt from Heaven; industrious, vigilant,
Kind, affable, magnificent:—
Yet all this good, Nay, all his lusts and passions
Are slaves to his Ambition: Take him there,
Nothing can hold him; Lawes, Religion, All
Sacred, or civil, are no more then—This.

Du.
But we'll provide for that: We'll tye him up
Fast under hand, and seal, well-backt with Oaths.

Ma.
Tye him with Oaths!—Hah!—You may sooner hold
An angry Lyon, with a clew of thread,
Gyants, with rotten towe.—Th'old Emperor found it;
When having forgiv'n him so oft, he still
Broke out a new;—Swore, and forswore again:
Until necessity made him resolve,
To kill, or banish him: which last took place;
Pray Heaven 't 'as alterd him;—Howe're, let me
Remain your Lordships servant:—

Both.
Friend you mean;—farewel:

Exit Mamalus.
La.
Tis time that we went too:

Du.
I wait your motion.

Exeunt.

SCE. II.

Enter Sebastus. Constantinus.
Const.
Now good my Lord—'Has been an antient servant
Unto our Family—'Tis the least I can:
Pray let him have it.—

Seb.
How was your Lordship saying?
I did not mind you well—my head's so full:

(scratches)
Con.

O'th' simples (Aside)
come I beg but seldom;
shall I send him to kiss your hands?

Seb.
Matters of State
Beat all things out;—

Con.
No—'tis your oval Crown
Aside
Lets nothing in.—

Seb.
But good my Lord, what is't?
It must be somewhat more than in my power,
When you're deny'd.—

Con.
Troth 'tis a very nothing.

Seb.
Why then—you have it—is your Lordship pleas'd.

Con.
Hah!—yours is pleasant;—'tis a little odd thing.
The Major-domo to his Majesty's Bears.

Seb.
Certain my Lord it is too mean a place,
And he might find much better—what is't worth?

Con.
not much above a hundred crowns a year,
Besides the blessing that attends an Office.

Seb.
Stay! Major-Domo—Let me see—I doubt
Somewhat was done in't lately (scratches)
Oh! I have't.
Alas my Lord 'tis gon;—dispos'd in troth:
Now I'm so sorry:

Con.
But to whom?—or how?

Seb.
Why—I'm mistaken, or the Emperor gave it
To (scratches)
an old servant of his Fathers:—

Con.
Strange!
Eagles do seldom stoop so low:—

Seb.
Then 'twas
My wife;—and like enough it might be so.
But there are other things as good, or better,
And might be found if men were diligent.
Trust me I am so vext,—I'll tell my Wife
What a displeasure she hath done your Lordship.

Exit.
Con.
Your Lordship's.—Gon! dispos'd!—my life this fellow
Would sell his soul, were any man so mad
To bid him money for't—Was this a thing
To be believ'd?—the Devil of such a servant,
Or Office, I yet ever heard, or dreamt;
But now I see, 'tis good to try ones friends,
E're a man needs 'em;—And the same have I
The nature of this beast—Now is he gone
To hunt a chapman;—but the scent (beloved)
Will be cold, e're you light on one—Dull Greece!
Where is thy soul? What magick? or what fate
Has dampt thy spirits? canst thou live, yet be
Bull'd by this Urchin? Canst thou breath, yet suffer
Such a slave ride thee? such a Tinsel bauble!
No—know fond man, though Greece be fast asleep.
Her Genius wakes, nor shall thy formal nothing,
Brave it much longer;—dirt thou art, and dirt
Shall be thy last, and sudden too;—'tis done,
The better half, what is once well begun.

Exit.

SCE. III.

Enter Philo solus with a Letter in his hand.
Ph.
(Scratches)
Enter Manuel in a disguise.

Man.

Ph.
And mine too if you please.

Man.
Still more misfortune!
Philo comes from behind the hangings, and trips his Sword away.
What art thou? 'Twas rude
To take that from me, which thou darest not give:

Man. riseth and runs upon t'others point.
Ph.
Stand off—nay since you must pursue your folly,
Hold—there's your sword agen—
(draws)
They fight, and close, in the close: Ph. knows him throws away his sword, and kneels.
My honour'd Lord!
Now shall I bless, on curse my hand?

Man.
Be gon,
And tempt thy fate no longer.—

Ph.
My best Lord;
Yet hear me speak.—

Man.
Rise and be sudden then.

Ph.
I shall (riseth)
and since this combat of your passions
May've checkt each other; give your reason time
To breath a while: consider what you're doing:
It is an injury to your self, and nature:
Nature preserves it self, and taught not this;
Nor promis'd any by Privation, Bliss.

Man.
Injurious to my self? it cannot be:
I'm willing; injury supposes force:
Nor yet 'gainst nature: for then surely they
Whom no Religion aw'd (as having't not)
Had never us'd, at least affected it;
Then take your Argument, or tell me why
Nature yet left it in our power to dye?

Ph.
She could not help it; to have made a man,
And yet deny'd him liberty of will,
Had been t'ave given him wings, and clipt 'um too.
Yet take't with its restriction, she ne're meant
Because you might, you should destroy your self;
If all should do the same, where were the world?

Man.
What's that to me? would the whole world lay here;
claps his hand upon his heart.
And I'd soon 'solve the question.—

Ph.
Yet shew me
Some late example of this kind; this humor
Has worm'd it self quite out of date.—

Man.
Disuse,
is a poor Argument—Let Children fear
To sit alone, because their candle's out,
It is enough to me, there is yet left—
This remedy, and triumph over Fortune:
Be gon.—

Ph.
I must not; 'tis now worth your self
To dare to live; who ever sunk his ship
Because he fear'd a storm might do it for him?
Or kill'd himself to save his enemy pains?
Life is a warfare; and who quits the field
Without a lawful Pass-port, runs away.

Man.
And so do thou; and quickly;—or by this
Man. Shakes his sword at him.
I shall too soon confute your Argument.

Ph.
What will your noble Father say?—

Man.
Ha!—Father!
There's magick in the word; t'as chill'd my blood
Into a Pally—Hence—I dare not trust
My resolution, nor thy rattle, longer;

Ph.
How will he bear 't I say, when he shall hear
His son thus sacrific'd to his Return?

Man.
Return!—there's witchcraft in thy breath—
Begon;
And stagger me no longer with false hopes;

Ph.
Credit me once,—By all that's Great, or Good:
He's now in Greece, nay, near this City too.

Man.
Shall I believe thee?—no—it must not be;
Somewhat within me whispers, 'tis not so.
Yet say he were.—He has believ'd me lost
These many years; and why should I now add
New sorrows to my self, or him; to see him
And yet want power to help him?—

Ph.
Fear not that,
You have; I'll chalk you out the way: And if
You see him not e're many hours shall pass,
As glorious as the Sun broke through a cloud;
Then let that mischief you design'd your self,
Fall headlong upon me.

Man.
Well—for a while
I'll give thee hearing;—
Sheath his Sword.
Take up that—and help me
To put it on again—so—so—'Tis well.

Ph. takes up his grey peruwick, and helps him on with't again.
Exeunt.

SCE. IV.

Enter Constantinus, Stephanus, Basilius.
Bas.
'Twas a good humour—

Const.
Good! I'll undertake
You shall not think that thing, he shall not swallow.

Bas.
'Tis such a starcht intelligible Ass!

Ste.
And may become a Fair a twelve month hence;

Const.
A dainty fine new-nothing I—an odd Scheme
Of knave, and fool: where yet, the fool's Ascendent,
And Lords the Horoscope; too much the fool,
to conceal handsomely the knave; and yet
Not knave enough, to act the cunning fool:
I shall forbear a farther Lecture on him,
I'm sure he'll stink, e're I get half way through him.

Ste.
I would he knew how well his friends thought of him;

To them Conto, Lapardas, Ducas.
Bas.
See! here are more of 'um—

Const.
My Lords, all health:—
They salute each other.
What say you?
Shall we fall to our business?

Cont.
When you please.

They take their seats.
Const.
You know my Lords what we resolv'd on last;
Have you received any account as yet?
Is our Maria safe, or the work done?

Cont.
She is returned this night, and sent me word
She would be here: But what is done I know not.

Ste.
'Tis a brave Lady: Troth I half despair'd
T'have heard of her so soon:—

Cont.
Pray Heaven it ben't
Too soon to all our Costs?
Your Lorships knows, he is ambitious.—

Const.
And who is not pray?
It is the spur of every generous soul;
And were not you the same, what make you here?

Du.
But 't had been prudence t'ave secur'd our selves:

Const.
I hope there's no such need—Here comes a Lady
Enter Maria led by Philo.
Will quickly end the difference—Let's go meet her;
They all rise and go to meet her. Exit Philo.
Madam—you're well return'd—and yet, not I,
But Greece, must speak it;

Omnes.
Royal Maria welcome.

They all kiss her hand.
Mar.
My Lords and Gentlemen I thank you:
And am sufficiently repay'd my pains
In your acceptance; please you keep your seats,
And I'll acquaint you what I've done.

Const.
Blest Madam;
Our life, and death, hang on your lips;—And yet,
Me thinks that face speaks a good Augury,

Mar.
Then know my Lords—
I have dispatcht your message, and here bring you
All you could ask, or think—the Sea prov'd calm,
The willing winds smil'd on the enterprise,
And left me not till I had reach'd Onæum;
Where I soon found Andronicus (his fame
Needed no guides) But, in that blest retirement,
That all those things which we call happiness,
Might have took copy from't, but still come short.
Not to amuse you longer, I presented
Your Letters, and he read 'um o're; but when
He saw the business; troth he wept, and wisht
It had been in his power to have comply'd;
But he was old, and had given o're the world
To younger men, And his ambition now,
Was for a better: yet he sight, and wept,
And wept, and sight; and sight, and wept again:
And thus he kept me many daies, yet stil
I prest him forward, told him, Greece was sunk,
Unless he buoy'd it up; That the Court had
More factions, then Lords; the Commons prest;
The Empire shatter'd; nothing could restore't,
But his last hand: beseecht him to forget
His banishment, and him that laid it on:
At length he paws'd, and pawsing, askt me how
It could be done; he was but one, and Arms,
Not lazie wishes, must accomplish it:
'On which I shew'd him all the whole design,
The persons names, what force we had already;
And what expected to be hir'd from thence;
Well, to be short, I did at last prevail,
And with his help, procur'd 5000 Foot,
Yet left him not, till I had seen all shipt,
And safe amidst our fleet, where he now rides,
Before the City, and resolves to land,
This very night, and sack her round e're morn:
'Tis more than time my Lords that you were gon;
There's one came with me has your Orders ready:

Conto.
But what conditions has he sign'd.—

Mar.
Much more
Than you desir'd—he bid you write your own,
And he hath sworn religiously to observe 'um.

she throws them a blank.
Cont.
What's here! a blank? 'Tis what I thought; h'as sworn
To nothing, and nothing he'll perform: would I were fairly rid on't.—

La.
So would I.—

Du.
And I:

Lap.
We're fool'd so prettily;

Cont.
Or we may in time.

Cont. Lap. Ducas, rise, walk, and whisper.
Bas.
Did ever men confound a business so?
My soul! we're lost—we shall be all discover'd:

Ste.
I know not what their fear may do: 'twere best
To knock 'um i'th head, and give it out
The Soldiers did it; if our business thrive,
We're well enough; if not, we save our selves,
The dead can tell no tales.—

Bas.
'Twer not amiss:
What saies my Lord?—

Const.
Lets hear 'um once agen;
And royal Madam see what you can do.

Mar.
Well my good Lords; What would you now be at?
Are you resolv'd as yet?—

Cont.
Why—we'll consider 't;
And send you back our answer.—

They offer to go out, Maria stops 'um.
Mar.
How's this? consider?—Is't your fear, or Fate?
Blisters of Greatness, Whom the stupid Age
Dull as your selves,—calls Lords? What prompts you this
Irresolution? You all confess,
The Empire flames, and your selves must burn with it;
And yet (forsooth) you first strein curtesie
Who shall begin, or which the way to quench it:
Nor is that block sooner remov'd, but that
You stumble on another, and then too
When one would think you had been all resolv'd;
You must be now secure! Call you this Lording?
I shame to hear't; And, but my sex forbids,
I should suspect your Mothers.—Was't for this
My glorious Father made all Asin bow,
Confess his Empire, And had nature pleas'd,
Shak't all the world—At least, brought to'ther Eagle
Back to her nest again? Was it for this?
For this, I say, your famous Ansires spred
Their flying Banners, far as earth had shore,
Only to leave the empty fame to you;
Away—Agree: Occasion calls you forth,
Shew whose you are, and justifie your Mothers:

Const.
'Tis a brave mettled Amazon.—

Ste.
Y' faith
She nettles 'um:—

Mar.
For shame my Lords, resolve
Conto: Lap: Ducas walk up & down biting their lips.
Time runs away; 'Tis execution
Makes counsels walk invisible, And like arrows,
Out run the eye, and hit the mark e're seen.
What is't you fear? If't be Andronicus,
You have his Honour, and his Oath engag'd:
Or if Sebastus? fancy not to meet,
Augustus's Arts, not yet Tiberius's cunning;
No, no; he's nothing but a thick scul'd Stallion,
A very sot; And such a sniveling coward;
'Tis favour to call him so: Then courage Lords;
Challenge your birth-right; be no more tame fools,
Dull heavy beasts, so jaded from your spirits,
That Honour cannot spur you up; Come; Come;
Mind what you should:—'Tis now too late t'advise,
For Greece, at present, wants more hands, than eyes.

Conto.
Why, I still meant it:

La.
We'd as good be lost
In going through, as lose our heads for nothing.

Du.
Nay i'll do what you will: what you resolve
To do, do quickly.—

Mar.
Now you speak like men.—

Come my Lords—All's well agen—And for any thing
that remains, we shall better order it within.

Exeunt.

SCE. V.

Enter Andronicus solus.
(Exit.)