 | The Siege and Surrender of Mons |  |
ACT III.
Scene 1.
Scene the Palace, present the Prince, Fagel, Harcourt, Spinosa, Pedro. &c.Prince.
So great an Army 'fore so small a Town,
Seems that by numbers they design to Conquer;
As yet through all the sad Calamities
Of Fire and Blood, Mons resolutely stands
The Object of their hate—but Fagel Tell,
What succours from abroad must we expect?
Fagel.
Enough, if timely they assistance lend,
For th'English Monarch our once blest Deliverer,
With fifty thousand Men of the Confederates,
Lye now encampt near Brussels, thence, to Hall;
They march, where they expect some other Troops
To joyn them, which, with Regiments of Scotch and Spanish
Expected, likewise will increase the Army
To seventy thousand choice selected Souldiers.
I mention not their Mortars, nor their Cannon,
Prince.
May Heaven succeed their Arms; but all this while
How stand Affairs within our selves? I fear
The Souldiers harass'd with continual Watchings,
And Burghers with their Losses half distracted,
May have some inclinations to surrender,
To 'rid themselves of this uneasiness.
Fagel.
My Lord, I only for the Souldiers speak,
They are unanimous, and every Man
Will to the last defend the Cities Glory
Against the bold Encroachments of the French.
Harcourt.
The Burghers too my Lord, to all Appearance
Are resolutely brave and bold in Action.
I know not how their Wives Endearments may
Soften their Minds, and lead their Wills astray.
A Great Shout heard.
Enter a Messenger.
Prince.
The News.
Messeng.
My Lord, ill Tidings must salute your Ears,
The Half-Moon of the Horn-work next the Gate
Of Barlemont being widen'd with their Cannon,
Was just now with about Seven thousand Men
Storm'd with that fury, that in little time
The French became the Masters of the Fort,
But in the three Attaques they gave the Place;
They lost at sev'ral times Three thousand Men.
Prince.
This sad Relation checks me not at all.
Fagel.
Nor me.
Harcourt.
Nor me.
Pedro.
Nor any whose great mind
Is plac'd above the rude Assaults of Fortune.
Prince.
Fagel and you Spinosa—to the City
Hasten with speed and animate the Burghers;
Their Drooping Spirits may perhaps need Cordials.
Harcourt and Pedro—to your Posts advance,
And let the Souldiers want no due Encouragement,
Comfort, advise, and order Necessaries;
But stop our Ears to all Capitulation.
Fagel.
Forbid it Heaven! No, first let glorious Mons
Be made the Seat of one continued Fire,
And ev'ry Souldier perish in the Flame,
Rather than tamely yield our Lives so, and Fortunes
To French discretion.—If I hear one whisper,
Where ever I resort, of tame Surrender,
By Heav'n I'le split the Skull of such a Man,
Were he my Brother, or what's more my Friend.
Scene 2.
The Scene a fine Apartment.Enter the two Abbots, Grimchi and Vaneufe.
A. Van.
Methinks, Brother, you look very chearfully to day;
these pleasing smiles of yours do not suit with the Calamity of
the Times.
A. Grimchi.
What necessity is there, I should be dull and cloudy
because the Times are so?
A. Vaneufe.
Great reason, our humours should always sympathise
with melancholy occasions.
A. Grimchi.
No Brother, I had a Cordial sent me to day from
the French Kings own Closet,
[shews a Purse of Gold]
smell
on't, d'ye think 'tis rightly prepar'd.
A. Vaneufe.
I believe I can match it,—
[shews another Purse]
'tis exactly the same Colour, and prepar'd by the same hand, I
believe; you know how to use it, I suppose.
A. Grimchi.
I were a blockhead else.
Enter three Women.
1 Wom.
Oh Lord, Father, I am in such a fright, I shall never
be recover'd again.
2 Woman.
Oh Father, these Guns, these filthy Guns have
made me almost distracted.
3 Woman.
Oh the Pains and Perils of Child-birth, are but a flea-biting
was thrown down in a Croud, and has bruis'd his little Finger,
I'm afraid he'll never recover again.
A. Grimchi.
Forbear, Daughters, these sad complaints,
You must look further than the outward cause,
Heaven has a good design in these Afflictions,
To humble us, and make us still more Vertuous.
1. Woman.
I shall be humbled I think with a Witness, I have
neither washt my face nor comb'd my head since the siege began,
besides a large Trunk in our Garret took fire, and burnt
all my best Linnen.
2. Woman.
Nay, a Bomb that fell into our Yard, spoil'd me
nineteen Dutch Cheeses, and five Firkins of Butter; Oh Lord,
I'm undone, undone, why, I shall never eat a good Meal agen.
A. Vaneufe.
Patience, Daughters, patience.
'Tis Heavens High Pleasure, and there's no contending.
3. Woman.
Oh these wicked French, they have kill'd all my Poultry,
and the noise of the Cannons has sow'rd all the Liquor in my
Cellar.
A. Grimchi.
Cease those Complaints, as fruitless all, we charge you,
By scratching of the Wound you make it fester.
1. Woman.
I have not seen my poor Husband this three days,
I'm afraid he was kill'd at the Horn-work.
2. Woman.
And mine had been kill'd too, If I had not lock'd him
up in the Cellar poor Man.
A Bomb falls at some distance, and makes a great noise, at which the Women and Priests fall down flat on their Faces, crying out.
W. and P.
Oh Lord, I am dead, I am dead, O Jesu Maria, libera nos.
Enter a great number of the most cowardly Burghers, with other Rabble, running hastily into the Room for shelter, they stumble over the Priests and the Women.
1. Burg.
Hey day, hey day, here's fine doings; my Wife upon
the Floor with two Priests, they talk of Horn-Works in the Town,
I believe there has been some Works of that nature going forward
here.
1. Woman.
Oh Lord, Hubby, are you alive?—When the Bomb
went off I fell in a Trance, and fancied your Corps appeared to
me, and methought you were so stiff.
Come, come, no more fooling.
After some time, they all get up, and every one bows to the Priests, who bless them with the sign of the Cross, and sprinkle Holy Water on them.
2. Burg.
Will our Misfortunes never have an end?
'Tis now a thing to me indifferent, whether we keep Mons or no,
for my part I'm undone already.
3. Burg.
And I too, I am not worth the twentieth part of a
Ducat.
2. Woman.
Oh, my Husband and I, when we were first married,
had a great deal of good House-hold-stuff, but 'tis all destroy'd excepting
a hard flock Bed, and a joint stock.
1. Woman.
I wish the French had the Town for my part so the
Inhabitants were but at quiet.
2. Burg.
And I too, let the Turk have it rather than live this sad
noisie Life.
1. Burgh.
But they say we shall be relieved by the Confederate
Army.
2. Burg.
Yes, by doomsday in the Afternoon.
A. Grimchi.
Friends, Citizens—
3. Burgh.
Silence there, silence there, let the Father speak.
[a great silence.
A. Grimch.
Friends, Citizens, Inhabitants of Mons,
By the offended hand of Heaven, you suffer
These sad Calamities of Fire and Sword,
Some very grievous Crimes you have committed;
Which thus has caus'd the Face of Heaven to frown,
Your Town besieged by the French, has suffer'd
All the Misfortunes that attend a Siege;
But they are Catholicks, and so are you;
Shall these fall out? Forbid it, oh just Heaven,
The Succours which pretend they would relieve you,
Are Hereticks' mark that, my Friends, the'yr Hereticks;
Would you to have your Town preserv'd by Hereticks,
Hazard the safety of the true Religion
The Sacred Roman Apostolick Faith?
Consider this, and tell me then yee sufferers,
Whether yee are true Christians, yea or no?
1. Burgh.
What think you, Neighbour, does Father Grimchi
speak truth or no—ha.
A notable Speech o' my Conscience,
But how, Father shall we help our selves?
F. Grimchi.
Will you for once my Ghostly Counsel take
All.
Ay, ay, all of us, Father,—silence.
A. Grimchi.
Then putting on your most dejected looks,
Your selves and Wives shall to the Governour hasten.
But lest through hopes and fears you grow unruly.
The Reverend Father Vaneufe and my self,
Will go before you in a large Procession,
And tell him the Calamities you suffer.
And that 'tis better to surrender far,
Than still to feel the dire effects of War.
All
cry out.
A surrender, a surrender, we'll Capitulate.
A. Vaneufe.
Let every one by different ways repair
Where we'll assist you to our utmost Pow'r.
Scene 3.
Scene the Palace, present the Prince, Ravilledo, Pedro Fagell, &c.Prince.
No Succours come! Oh most ill tim'd delay.
Fagel.
Tho' Succours still we want, yet 'tis a pleasure,
To think how dear our Enemies have paid
For this Attempt upon the Town of Mons;
The Duke de Maine, and the Grand Prior of France,
Killed in the Trenches; Megrim the Engineer
Wounded in both his Arms, and sent to Tournay,
Bouffleers and Vendosme hurt almost to death,
Besides in their Attacques upon the Horn-Works,
They've lost at least above six thousand Men.
[A great Noise heard.
What Tumult can be this, which dares presume,
Enter a Messenger.
Messeng.
My Lord, my Lord, a most confused Rabble,
Of Men and Women, headed by the Abbots,
Old Grimchi and Vaneufe, are pressing forward,
And say that they have business with your Highness.
Prince.
I never lik'd the two fat Abby Lubbers,
They're dangerous I fear—go, know their Business.
Exit Messenger.
I have a strange suspicion that these Villains
(Forgive the word) have put th'unthinking Rabble
Upon the Project of Capitulation.
Re-enter the Messenger.
Messeng.
My Lord, they press upon the place so thick,
They have already fill'd the outward Courts,
Where loudly, every one of them, bauls out, Surrender,
We'll hold no longer out, let's hear their Terms.
Prince.
Villains—but ah I want too bad a Name,
To brand 'em with—Betrayers of their Country,
What shall I call 'em?—Oh I am lost in passion;
These Priests have caus'd this Mischief; oh that Lucifer
Had took 'em all into his private Custody
[Shouts heard.
Before the Seige—the Torrent grows too high,
And faint resistance makes it flow the faster.
Nothing we want; our Arms and our Provisions
Hold out, the Souldiers too are valiant,
And nothing but the Priests and Burghers Cowards;
O Priest-Craft, Shop-Craft! how do ye Effeminate
The Mind of Man.
[A Drum is heard upon the Walls and shooting.
Hah! do I hear a Drum?
Nay, then 'tis done, and Mons is now no more;
The Plagues which did all Ægypts Land infest,
Are nothing to the single plague of Priest.
Scene 4.
Scence. The French Camp; present the King, the Dauphin Lovis, &c.K. F.
My Nobles slain and wounded, with the Deaths
Of such a num'rous company of Souldiers,
Besides my Magazines of Forage spent,
And all this loss before a stubborn Town.
[A very great Shout heard.
Hah! what can this mean—yet my presaging hopes
Tell me, my golden Plott has ta'ne effect.
Enter a Trumpeter from D. Luxemburgh.
Trump.
Great Sir, the Town despairing of all Succour,
Is beating of a Parley on the Wall
This very instant.
F. K.
—Distract me not with Falshood;
I'm glad to hear it tho—Now famous Mons
Is mine, and shall continue mine for ever.
Dauphine.
And may all refractory Towns that dare
Stand out against your most victorious Arms
Meet the like Fortune, or a worser Fate.
F. K.
This is a glorious opening the Campaign;
I now am just what a late Motto stil'd me,
One against all; since with my single Force,
I bid defiance to all Europes Arms.
I value not their Counsels at the Hague,
And scorn their most united Power more,
Lord of my self, and all Mankind beside.
Each day I add fresh Lawrels to my Brows;
Let Poets rack their Brains to make new Triumphs,
And publick Joy resound through all the Camp,
Whilst I my self in Person go to view
Upon the Ruines of a Conquer'd Town,
Which adds another Ruby to my Crown.
Scene 5.
The Scene opening, discovers the Burghers upon the Wall in great numbers, with a Flag of Truce, and a Drum beating.Below in the Trenches stand Luxemburgh and Bouffleers, with with other Officers and Souldiers.
Luxem.
(—Looking backward,)
Command silence there.
(Looking up,)
Now your Demands.
1 Burg.
First Hostages must be exchanged.
Lux.
Ours are ready.
3 Burg.
And so are Ours.
[Exchange of Hostages is made.
Lux.
Where are your Articles of Capitulation?
2 Burg.
Here; but with most unwillingness we got 'em.
The Governour was at least two hours before he could be
persuaded to set his hand to 'em.
1 Burg.
Would it not vex any Man to set his hand to writing
that conveys his Estate from him.
Lux.
None of your Preaching Mr. Burgher, your Guns have
spoke too loud already.
1 Burg.
Old Fagel would not sign.
2 Burg.
'Tis a cross old basket hilted Officer.
And will you now my Lords perform these Articles sign'd on
your part?
Lux.
Most inviolably.
Enter the French King incognito.
K. F.
How could I feast my Eyes with such a sight?
O Mons, thou first-born of this Summers Conquests,
Thy Articles shall be as firmly kept
As all those other Contracts I have made.
[Exit.
Now let all hostile Actions cease between us.
We all are friends, tho' with some kind of sorrow,
The Garison we view march out to morrow.
Scene 6.
The Scene discovers a Regiment of Horse drawn-up, and parted in two Lines, through which Drums beating, and Colours, flying, and arm'd at all Points; the Garison, march out, after them thirty cover'd Waggons, fifty Persons on Horseback in Masques, six pieces of Canon and two Mortars: After all the Prince d'Bergue magnificently mounted with his Sword in his band, and Attendance due, to his Quality.—The Dauphin and Luxemburgh at the Head of the Regiment;—As he passes by the Dauphin, he makes three salutes with his Sword.Prince.
Your Highness may believe 'tis with regret
I now surrender up this dear Lov'd Town;
Had not the Burghers with their Clamours deafen'd me,
I had not thus been forc'd to a Compliance.
Dauph.
My Lord, 'tis known you are too brave a Foe
To merit evil usage: We may pity,
But cannot now in justice help your Fortunes.
Your Souldiers fought like Men inspir'd with Courage;
Who could do less under so brave a General?
Your Conduct in the Siege all Tongues commend,
And pray esteem the Dauphin as your Friend.
[Exeunt Omnes.
| The Siege and Surrender of Mons | |