University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

Roman Camp.
Enter Petillius, Junius, Decius, and Demetrius.
Petillius.
Oh, my vex'd thief, art thou come home again?
Are thy brains perfect?

Jun.
Sound as bells,
Dead to all folly, and now my anger only—

Pet.
Why, that's well said; hang Cupid and his quiver!
When thou lov'st next, love a good cup of wine,
A mistress for a king!

Jun.
I am counsel'd;
The war shall be my mistress now.

Pet.
Well chosen!
For she's a bouncing lass; she'll kiss thee at night, boy,
And break thy pate i'th' morning. She'll hold grappling,
And he that lays on best is her best servant;
All other loves are mere trim laziness,
Here comes the general.

Enter Suetonius, Curius, and Macer.
Suet.
I'm glad I've found ye.
Haste, good Petillius, haste to Penius:
I fear the strong conceit of what disgrace
H' has pull'd upon himself, will be his ruin;
I would not lose him for all Britain.
Give him, Petillius, all the noblest counsel,
His fault forgiven too, his place, his honour;
And tell the soldier, 'twas on our command
He drew not to the battle.

Pet.
I conceive, Sir,
And will do that shall cure all.

Suet.
Bring him with you
Before the queen's fort, and his forces with him:
Make haste!

Pet.
The best I may.

[Exit.
Suet.
And, noble gentlemen,
Up to your companies! we'll presently
Upon the queen's pursuit. There's nothing done
'Till she be seiz'd; without her, nothing won.

[Exeunt. Short flourish.
The Tent of Penius.
Enter Penius, Drusius, and Petillius.
Pen.
Pray ye forsake me;
Look not upon me, as ye love your honours!

Pet.
Sure his mind's dangerous.

Drus.
The good gods cure it!

Pen.
My honour got thro' fire, thro' stubborn breaches,
Thro' Death himself, in all his horrid trims,
Is gone for ever, ever, ever, gentlemen!
Oh, my good sword, break from my side, and kill me;
Cut out the coward from my heart!

Pet.
You are none.

Pen.
He lies that says so! by Heaven, he lies, lies basely,
Baser than I have done! Come, Justice, seek me;
I've broke my fair obedience! last, Shame take me,
Shame, endless Shame! and pray do you forsake me!

Drus.
What shall we do?

Pen.
Good gentlemen, forsake me!
See me and understand me: This is he,
The gallant Penius that forsook the battle;
This is the brave wise Penius; this is he
Shrunk in his politick head, when Rome, like reapers,
Sweat blood and spirit for a glorious harvest,
And bound it up, and brought it off; that soldier,
That being courted by loud Fame and Fortune,
Yet durst doubt and be damn'd!

Pet.
It was an error.

Pen.
A foul one, and a black one.

Pet.
Yet the blackest
May be wash'd white again. The general—

Pen.
He's a brave gentleman,
A valiant, and a loving; but examples
That nourish disobedience in whole armies,
Must not be play'd withal;
Nor dare I hope more from him than is worthy.

Pet.
What would you do?

Pen.
Die.

Pet.
Fy, great captain! you
A man to rule men, to have thousand lives
Under your regiment, and let your passion
Betray your reason? I bring you all forgiveness,
The noblest kind commends, your place, your honour—

Pen.
Prithee no more; 'tis foolish. Good Petillius,
Tell me no more I may live.

Pet.
'Twas my commission.

Pen.
Farewell, captain!
Be a good man, and fight well; be obedient;
Command thyself, and then thy men.

Pet.
Brave captain,
The great and honour'd Penius!

Pen.
That again!
Oh, how it heightens me! again, Petillius!

Pet.
Most excellent commander!

Pen.
Those were mine,
Mine, only mine!

Pet.
They are still.

Pen.
Then, to keep 'em
From ever falling more, have at ye! Heavens,
Ye everlasting powers, I'm yours!
[Stabs himself.
Carry my last words
To the great gen'ral: Kiss his hands, and say,
My soul I give to Heav'n, my fault to justice,
Which I have done upon myself; my virtue,
If ever there was any in poor Penius,
Made more, and happier, light on him! (I faint)
And where there is a foe, I wish him fortune.
I die: Lie lightly on my ashes, gentle earth!

[Dies.
Pet.
Farewell, great Penius!

[Noise within.
Enter Regulus, with Soldiers.
Reg.
Good soldiers, honest soldiers—

Pet.
Oh, let 'em in; all's done, all's ended, Regulus;
Penius has found his last eclipse. Come, soldiers,
Come, and behold your miseries; come sadly!
Who shall now lead ye fortunate? coy'd and courted
By all the mistresses of war, care, counsel,
Quick-ey'd experience, and victory twin'd to him?
Go home, and hang your arms up; let rust rot 'em;
And humble your stern valours to soft prayers!
The sun that warm'd your bloods is set for ever.—
I'll kiss thy honour'd cheek. Farewell, great Penius,
Thou thunder-bolt, farewell!—Take up the body:
Tomorrow mourning to the camp convey it,
There to receive due ceremonies. That eye
That blinds himself with weeping, gets most glory.

[Exeunt with a dead march.
Open Country. Enter Caratach and Hengo.
Car.
How does my boy?

Hengo.
I would do well; my heart's well;
I do not fear.

Car.
My good boy!

Hengo.
I know, uncle,
We must all die; my little brother died,
I saw him die, and he died smiling; sure
There's no great pain in't, uncle. But pray tell me,
Whither must we go when we're dead?

Car.
Why, to the blessed'st place, boy—Ever-sweetness
And happiness dwell there.

Hengo.
Will you come to me?

Car.
Yes, my sweet boy.

Hengo.
No Romans, uncle?

Car.
No, boy.

Hengo.
I should be loth to meet them there.

Car.
No ill men,
That live by violence, and strong oppression,
Come thither; 'tis for those the gods love, good men.

Hengo.
Why, then, I care not when I go, for surely
I am persuaded they love me: I never
Blasphem'd 'em, uncle, nor trangress'd my parents;
I always said my prayers.

Car.
That's my good boy!
Art thou not weary, Hengo?

Hengo.
Weary, uncle?
I've heard you say you've march'd all day in armour.

Car.
I have, boy. Thou art too tender.

Hengo.
To go upon my legs? they were made to bear me.
I can play twenty mile a-day; I see no reason,
But, to preserve my country and myself,
I should march forty.

Car.
What wouldst thou be, living
To wear a man's strength!

Hengo.
Why, a Caratach,
A Roman-hater, a scourge sent from Heaven
To whip these proud thieves from our kingdom. Hark,
[Drum.
Hark, uncle, hark! I hear a drum.

Enter Judas and his people to the door.
Judas.
Beat softly,
Softly, I say; they're here. Who dare charge?

1 Sold.
He
That dares be knock'd o'th' head: I'll not come near him.

Judas.
Retire again, and watch them. How he stares!
H'has eyes would kill a dragon. Mark the boy well;
If we could take or kill him—A pox on ye,
How fierce ye look! See, how he broods the boy!
The devil dwells in's scabbard. Back, I say!
Apace, apace! h'has found us.

[They retire.
Car.
Do ye hunt us?

Hengo.
Uncle, good uncle, see! the thin starv'd rascal,
The eating Roman, see where he thrids the thickets:
Kill him, dear uncle, kill him!

Car.
Do ye make us foxes?
Here, hold my charging-staff, and keep the place, boy!
I am at bay, and like a bull I'll bear me.
Stand, stand, ye rogues, ye squirrels!

[Exit.
Hengo.
Now he pays 'em;
Oh, that I had a man's strength!

Enter Judas, &c.
Judas.
Here's the boy;
Mine own, I thank my fortune.

Hengo.
Uncle, uncle!
Famine is fall'n upon me, uncle.

Judas.
Come, Sir,
Yield willingly, (your uncle's out of hearing)
I'll tickle your young tail else.

Hengo.
I defy thee,
Thou mock-made man of mat! Charge home, sirrah!
Hang thee, base slave, thou shak'st!

Judas.
Upon my conscience,
The boy will beat me!—Yield, or I cut thy head off.

Hengo.
Thou dar'st not cut my finger: here 'tis; touch it.

Judas.
The boy speaks sword and buckler!—Prithee yield, boy;
Come, here's an apple, yield.

Hengo.
By Heav'n, he fears me!
I'll give you sharper language: When, ye coward,
When come ye up? I've twenty ways to charge thee.

Judas.
Sure 'tis the devil, a dwarf devil in a doublet!

Enter two Soldiers running.
1 Sold.
Flee, flee! he kills us.

2 Sold.
He comes, he comes!

Judas.
The devil take the hindmost!

[Exeunt Judas, &c.
Hengo.
Run, run, ye rogues, ye precious rogues, ye rank rogues!
A comes, a comes, a comes, a comes! that's he, boys!
What a brave cry they make!

Enter Caratach, with a Roman's sword.
Car.
How does my chicken?

Hengo.
'Faith, uncle, grown a soldier, a great soldier;
For, by the virtue of your charging-staff,
And a strange fighting face I put upon't,
I've out-brav'd Hunger.

Car.
That's my boy, my sweet boy!
Here, here's a Roman's sword for thee.

Hengo.
Good provision!
Before I starve, my sharp-edg'd blade of Rome,
I'll try your metal.

Car.
A right complete soldier!
Come, chicken, let's go seek some place of rest;
Thou wilt not else be able to endure
The journey to my country. Fruits and water
Must be your food a while, boy.

Hengo.
Any thing;
I can eat moss, nay, I can live on anger,
To vex these Romans. Let's be wary, uncle.

Car.
I warrant thee; come cheerfully.

Hengo.
And boldly!

[Exeunt.