University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A Royal Apartment.
Enter King EDEL and CURAN.
Ed.
Dost thou not boast?

Cur.
In truth I do not, Sir;
Ev'n in our days of greenest infancy
I was his humble play-mate; and, when youth
Nerv'd him for stouter sports, the gallant Prince
Would make me his compeer; to shoot the shaft,
To pitch the bar, to wrestle, race, or tilt,
In these and all like proofs of hardiment,
He ever chose my rivalry.

Ed.
If so,
Haply, thou now couldst counterfeit his person.

Cur.
I could, my Liege, were there a fit occasion.

Ed.
Were we right sure of this, occasion now
Should call thee to the trial.

Cur.
Some have thought
My lineaments did much resemble Curan's.
Nay, once I do remember, in our childhood,
We did in sport change dress; and I the while,
My little heart beating with innocent pride,
So strutted in his plumes, as caus'd a smile
On many a cheek to see with what mock grace
I aped the heir of Denmark.

Ed.
So even now
Thou seem'st to act him o'er again; in sooth
Thou art a peerless boy, and wilt befit
Our business to our wish; which, to tell briefly,
Is this, that thou, in semblance of the prince,
Should'st play the suitor to our royal niece;
For which thy youth, and, wherefore should we rob thee
Of what was Heav'n's own gift, thy comliness
Will stand thee in good stead. Beauty and youth
Are the best weapons in a gallant's hand
To conquer virgin coyness, these thou hast
From nature, these king Edel bids thee use,
Which, if thou dost like one of Cupid's teaching,
Beshrew me, boy, but it will raise thy fortunes
Higher than now thou dream'st of.

Cur.
My dread Liege,
Ye surely mean to mock your humble vassal;
I pray ye scoff not at my poverty.

Ed.
Trust us, fair youth, we do not. By our faith,
A sov'reign's faith, win thou our Argentile
And thou shalt wear her. But she must be won,
Her heart, her soul must be thine own so fixt,
That if we frown and cross awhile your nuptials,
Which for state reasons we perchance may feign,
Thou may'st persuade her to be thine by flight:
This if thou canst atchieve—

Cur.
I know not, Sir,
But this so sudden, so unhoped an honour
O'erpowers me wholly; can you mean, my Liege,
In very truth?

Ed.
By all the saints we do.

Cur.
Then be it so; that gracious smile did seem
To dart a ruddy beam of royalty
Warm to my heart. I am not what I was;
I tread with loftier step; my heart beats high,
As if the blood of Denmark boil'd within it.

Ed.
Excellent boy! his ev'ry word and gesture
Insures success, and tops our highest hope.
In faith, Prince Curan, for thou well dost suit
The gallant title, thou dost please us highly.
Some three hours hence take heed that thou attend
Our summons to our closet: thou shalt there
Have further schooling; meanwhile, on thy life,
Be secret.

Cur.
Take that life, if I am false.

Ed.
We will not doubt thee; favour'd as thou art,
Thou must be true to us, who show such favour,
And mean so to augment it.

Cur.
At thy feet
I swear—

Ed.
Arise, thou hast our confidence,
And soon shalt from our wardrobe have dispens'd
Those vestments, which befit thy state to wear
In audience of our niece.

Cur.
Impatiently,
My Liege, shall I expect them; for these weeds
Seem now to sit untowardly upon me:
I burn to change them.

Ed.
Wait us in our closet.

[Exit King.
Cur.
(solus)
Can it be thus? indeed, indeed men wrong thee,
My mistress Fortune, when they paint thee blind!
Shew me an eagle, that, with firmest eye
Can meet the sun in his meridian march,
And I will call that eye, compar'd with thine,
The bat's that blinks at twilight: were 't not so,
Thou could'st not guide thy hardly-govern'd wheel
So evenly foreright, as now thou dost;
And swift too, as 't would fire its very axle.
O that my Sewold knew!—But truce awhile
With exultation. Pass three little hours
And I have audience of fair Argentile.
How then to act? why, as a spirit would,
Who has the magic power to shift, and turn
From visible t' invisible, as best
May suit his present purpose. Let me see her,
And in her face, I con the ready part
I have to play; the full game thus before me,
I'll win it, or I'll lose it, as I list.

Enter FALCONER.
Fal.

Where is the King's Majesty? lead me instantly
to the King's Majesty's own personal presence! Mercy

on me, I have hardly breath left me to deliver that news
to him which, I trust, will choak him with choler. Brave
master Cup-bearer, present me unto him this moment.
—There is no time to be lost, I can assure you; by this
they must be at least six miles deep, look you, in the forest.

Cur.

They! say, who mean you?

Fal.

Yes, in good troth, that is a likely story; and
from a man of my years and experience, who has been
about court, man and boy, for full fifty years come next
all-hallow tide; to expect now by one single, and, with
your leave, simple question, to get such a secret out of
such a man! But you are a green courtier, master Cup-bearer,
and are therefore to be excused. Come, lead me
to the King's Majesty; it will suffice, I trust, if I unbosom
unto his Grace those I mean by my they, that are
now in the forest.

Cur.

Thou art indeed an old and full-bred courtier
Thus to forget—

Fal.

What! that you gave me certain angels of late
to drink to your God-speed? The service for which those
angels were given was conscientiously performed. Why
then should the memory of the gift remain, when the
cause of it is cancell'd. Nevertheless I do remember
those angels so well, and the number of them, as to know
that, were they increas'd in tenfold proportion, they would
not purchase an answer to thy present question, though
compriz'd in a tiney single syllable. Enough for thee to

know, that the secret is for royal ears, to which I command
thee to lead me.

Cur.
I will lead no man to the royal presence,
Who brings unpleasant tidings.

Fal.

Thou art a shrewd stripling, that must be said
for thee, having already guest so much of my secret, as
to know it is no very pleasant one.

Cur.
Who then, but thee, would bear it to the King?
Was it a secret he would joy to hear,
Thy fee might chance be ample; as it is,
Trust me, he'll only pay thee with a frown,
Fitting the sort and colour of that secret.

Fal.

Why indeed I do believe it will make his Majesty swear a little.

Cur.
Surely it will—to go without his leave
By stealth, and thro' the forest. Then their rank,
Men he so much had honour'd.—

Fal.

Nay, there you are out; there is but one man in the party.

Cur.
The princess surely has not fled the court.

Fal.

Since thou dealest with the devil, I find it will
be most prudent in me to make thee a party concern'd.
—Know then most assuredly, that the princess has fled
the court, accompanied only with old Lord Oswald.

Cur.
Death to my hopes—but art thou sure of this?

Fal.

If seeing is believing, that am I; but to tell thee
the matter in form and circumstance. I was practising a
tarsel at the lure, in a deep sort of a dell, some two miles

distant from the castle; where I heard a rustling of leaves
in a sidelong road to the left; there, thro' the thicket, I
saw the princess brush briskly on that white palfry, on
which she has hawked these two last seasons; before her
gallop'd Lord Oswald on his stout bay gelding, who is
half brother to King Edel's Swift; that very same steed
he rode on yesterday, when thou sang'st thyself into thy
preferment. They made as much haste, I can assure
thee, as a vile, stony, uphill, bridle-style road would suffer
them. But this is not all; for, hast'ning home with my
news, I met with another strong cause of suspicion that
they are bent on no honest errand; for, crossing the road
that leads to the west gate, I saw a smock-fac'd kind of
youth, more smock-fac'd even than thyself, bless the mark,
in a green doublet and hose, trudging away as fast as a
pair of very spindle-shanked legs could carry him; 'twas
a face I had seen before, but could not rightly tell where;
nor did I recollect it till I had enter'd the castle-gate.
But now I'll take my Bible oath 'twas no boy but a girl,
and that girl my Lady Editha, the princess's fav'rite
waiting-gentlewoman.

Cur.
Did she pursue her mistress?

Fal.

No, no, she took quite a different road, yet a
footpath, that meets the other some eight miles distance:
she went down the valley, whereas the princess and Lord
Oswald took up the hill.

Cur.

And would'st thou bear such tidings to the King?

Fal.

Marry that would I, and must too, for they be true ones.

Cur.
Go then and meet his wrath, who didst neglect
To seize the handmaid. Go and meet his wrath
For this thy tardiness. Know'st not that the time
Thou here hast spent with me, is worse than lost:
This when he knows, he'll on thy back inflict
A stripe for every moment.

Fal.

Mercy on me! why would'st thou detain me?
lead me to him directly.

Cur.
Falconer, I am thy friend. I'll point a way
Much safer than to Edel. Hence with me
This instant in pursuit of the lost princess.

Fal.

What! before we acquaint the King's Majesty
of her elopement, and have his royal writ to arrest her highness?

Cur.
I grant thee, wert thou sure of such commission,
It might be well to seek it: but her flight
Once known, he will dismiss some earl or knight,
Or valorous captain, on such high pursuit,
Not thee, poor peasant; what then shall become
Of thy reward? now thou and I together
Are a full match for Oswald. Him subdued,
And Argentile recover'd, double knighthood
Will surely be our fee.

Fal.

Earl Oswald, let me tell you, tho' old, is stout
and well timber'd, and may not be so easily master'd as
your vanity may imagine.

Cur.
But we will raise the country to assist us,
When once we find them.

Fal.

Yes indeed, that bears some likelihood. The
posse comitatus, and we at the head of them! he cannot
make them all knights, and as we shall appear to be the
first movers in the business, you know; and the King's
patent servants before that—

Cur.
True, true, but time is precious. Haste we hence.
Lead me the way they went, and trust me, Falconer,
Soon as we find them, our reward is sure.