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diff --git a/42724-0.txt b/42724-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7903365 --- /dev/null +++ b/42724-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13957 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42724 *** + + The English Dramatists + + + CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE + + + VOLUME THE SECOND + + ~Hadymelei + thama men phormingi pamphônoisi t' en entesin aulôn.~ + PINDAR, _Olymp._ vii. + + + + + THE WORKS + + OF + + CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE + + + + EDITED BY + A. H. BULLEN, B.A. + + + IN THREE VOLUMES + + VOLUME THE SECOND + + + [Illustration] + + + LONDON + JOHN C. NIMMO + 14, KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND, W.C. + MDCCCLXXXV + + + _One hundred and twenty copies of this Edition on Laid + paper, medium 8vo, have been printed, and are numbered + consecutively as issued._ + + _No._ 47 + + + + + CONTENTS OF VOL. II. + + + PAGE + THE JEW OF MALTA 1 + + EDWARD THE SECOND 115 + + THE MASSACRE AT PARIS 235 + + THE TRAGEDY OF DIDO, QUEEN OF CARTHAGE 299 + + + + + THE JEW OF MALTA. + + + Of the _Jew of Malta_ there is no earlier edition than the 4to. of + 1633, which was published under the auspices of the well-known + dramatist Thomas Heywood. The title is:--_The Famous Tragedy of + The Rich Iew of Malta. As it was playd before the King and Queene, + in His Majesties Theatre at White-Hall, by her Majesties Servants + at the Cock-pit. Written by Christopher Marlo. London: Printed + by I. B. for Nicholas Vavasour, and are to be sold at his Shop in the + Inner-Temple, neere the Church._ 1633. No later 4to. appeared. + + + + + TO + MY WORTHY FRIEND, + MASTER THOMAS HAMMON, + OF GRAY'S INN, &c. + + +This play, composed by so worthy an author as Mr. Marlowe, and the part +of the Jew presented by so unimitable an actor as Mr. Alleyn, being in +this later age commended to the stage; as I ushered it unto the Court, +and presented it to the Cock-pit, with these prologues and epilogues +here inserted, so now being newly brought to the press, I was loth it +should be published without the ornament of an Epistle; making choice +of you unto whom to devote it; than whom (of all those gentlemen and +acquaintance, within the compass of my long knowledge) there is none +more able to tax ignorance, or attribute right to merit. Sir, you +have been pleased to grace some of mine own works with your courteous +patronage;[1] I hope this will not be the worse accepted, because +commended by me; over whom, none can claim more power or privilege than +yourself. I had no better a new-year's gift to present you with; receive +it therefore as a continuance of that inviolable obligement, by which, +he rests still engaged; who as he ever hath, shall always remain, + + Tuissimus: + THO. HEYWOOD. + + + + + THE JEW OF MALTA. + + + THE PROLOGUE SPOKEN AT COURT. + + Gracious and Great, that we so boldly dare, + ('Mongst other plays that now in fashion are) + To present this, writ many years agone, + And in that age thought second unto none, + We humbly crave your pardon: We pursue + The story of a rich and famous Jew + Who lived in Malta: you shall find him still, + In all his projects, a sound Machiavill; + And that's his character. He that hath past + So many censures, is now come at last + To have your princely ears: grace you him; then + You crown the action, and renown the pen. + + + EPILOGUE. + + It is our fear (dread sovereign) we have bin + Too tedious; neither can't be less than sin + To wrong your princely patience: If we have, + (Thus low dejected) we your pardon crave: + And if aught here offend your ear or sight, + We only act and speak what others write. + + + + + THE PROLOGUE TO THE STAGE. + + + AT THE COCK-PIT. + + We know not how our play may pass this stage, + But by the best of poets[2] in that age + The Malta Jew had being, and was made; + And he, then by the best of actors[3] played; + In Hero and Leander, one did gain + A lasting memory: in Tamburlaine, + This Jew, with others many, th' other wan + The attribute of peerless, being a man + Whom we may rank with (doing no one wrong) + Proteus for shapes, and Roscius for a tongue, + So could he speak, so vary; nor is't hate + To merit, in him[4] who doth personate + Our Jew this day; nor is it his ambition + To exceed or equal, being of condition + More modest: this is all that he intends, + (And that too, at the urgence of some friends) + To prove his best, and, if none here gainsay it, + The part he hath studied, and intends to play it. + + + + + EPILOGUE. + + In graving, with Pygmalion to contend; + Or painting, with Apelles; doubtless the end + Must be disgrace: our actor did not so, + He only aimed to go, but not out-go. + Nor think that this day any prize[5] was played; + Here were no bets at all, no wagers laid;[6] + All the ambition that his mind doth swell, + Is but to hear from you (by me), 'twas well. + + + + + _PERSONS REPRESENTED._ + + + FERNEZE, _Governor of Malta_. + SELIM CALYMATH, _Son of the Grand Seignior_. + DON LODOWICK, _the Governor's Son, in love with_ + ABIGAIL. + DON MATHIAS, _also in love with her_. + MARTIN DEL BOSCO, _Vice-Admiral of Spain_. + BARABAS, _the Jew of Malta_. + ITHAMORE, _Barabas' slave_. + + BARNARDINE,} + } _Friars_. + JACOMO, } + + PILIA-BORSA, _a Bully._ + Two Merchants. + Three Jews. + Bassoes, Knights, Officers, Reader, Messengers, Slaves, + _and_ Carpenters. + KATHARINE, _mother of_ DON MATTHIAS. + ABIGAIL, _the Jew's Daughter_. + Abbess. + Two Nuns. + BELLAMIRA, _a Courtesan_. + + MACHIAVEL, _the Prologue_. + + _Scene--Malta._ + + + + + THE JEW OF MALTA. + + _Enter_ MACHIAVEL. + + _Machiavel._ Albeit the world thinks Machiavel is dead, + Yet was his soul but flown beyond the Alps; + And now the Guise[7] is dead, is come from France, + To view this land, and frolic with his friends. + To some perhaps my name is odious, + But such as love me guard me from their tongues; + And let them know that I am Machiavel, + And weigh not men, and therefore not men's words. + Admired I am of those that hate me most. + Though some speak openly against my books, 10 + Yet they will read me, and thereby attain + To Peter's chair: and when they cast me off, + Are poisoned by my climbing followers. + I count religion but a childish toy, + And hold there is no sin but ignorance. + Birds of the air will tell of murders past! + I am ashamed to hear such fooleries. + Many will talk of title to a crown: + + + What right had Cæsar to the empery?[8] + Might first made kings, and laws were then most sure 20 + When like the Draco's[9] they were writ in blood. + Hence comes it that a strong-built citadel + Commands much more than letters can import; + Which maxim had [but[10]] Phalaris observed, + He had never bellowed, in a brazen bull, + Of great one's envy. Of the poor petty wights + Let me be envied and not pitièd! + But whither am I bound? I come not, I, + To read a lecture hear in Britainy,[11] + But to present the tragedy of a Jew, 30 + Who smiles to see how full his bags are crammed, + Which money was not got without my means. + I crave but this--grace him as he deserves, + And let him not be entertained the worse + Because he favours me. + [_Exit._ + + + + + ACT THE FIRST. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_ BARABAS _in his counting-house, + with heaps of gold before him._ + + _Bar._ So that of thus much that return was made: + And of the third part of the Persian ships, + There was the venture summed and satisfied. + As for those Sabans,[12] and the men of Uz, + That bought my Spanish oils and wines of Greece, + Here have I purst their paltry silverlings.[13] + Fie; what a trouble 'tis to count this trash. + Well fare the Arabians, who so richly pay + The things they traffic for with wedge of gold, + Whereof a man may easily in a day 10 + Tell that which may maintain him all his life. + The needy groom that never fingered groat, + + Would make a miracle of thus much coin: + But he whose steel-barred coffers are crammed full, + And [he who] all his lifetime hath been tired, + Wearying his fingers' ends with telling it, + Would in his age be loth to labour so, + And for a pound to sweat himself to death. + Give me the merchants of the Indian mines, + That trade in metal of the purest mould; 20 + The wealthy Moor, that in the eastern rocks + Without control can pick his riches up, + And in his house heap pearls like pebble stones, + Receive them free, and sell them by the weight; + Bags of fiery opals, sapphires, amethysts, + Jacinths, hard topaz, grass-green emeralds, + Beauteous rubies, sparkling diamonds, + And seld-seen costly stones of so great price, + As one of them indifferently rated, + And of a carat of this quantity, 30 + May serve in peril of calamity + To ransom great kings from captivity. + This is the ware wherein consists my wealth; + And thus methinks should men of judgment frame + Their means of traffic from the vulgar trade, + And as their wealth increaseth, so inclose + Infinite riches in a little room. + But now how stands the wind? + Into what corner peers my halcyon's[14] bill? + + + Ha! to the east? yes: see how stands the vanes? 40 + East and by south: why then I hope my ships + I sent for Egypt and the bordering isles + Are gotten up by Nilus' winding banks: + Mine argosy from Alexandria, + Loaden with spice and silks, now under sail, + Are smoothly gliding down by Candy shore + To Malta, through our Mediterranean sea. + But who comes here? How now. + + _Enter a Merchant._ + + _Merch._ Barabas, thy ships are safe, + Riding in Malta Road: and all the merchants 50 + With other merchandise are safe arrived, + And have sent me to know whether yourself + Will come and custom[15] them. + + _Bar._ The ships are safe thou say'st, and richly fraught. + + _Merch._ They are. + + _Bar._ Why then go bid them come ashore, + And bring with them their bills of entry: + I hope our credit in the custom-house + Will serve as well as I were present there. + Go send 'em threescore camels, thirty mules, 60 + + + And twenty waggons to bring up the ware. + But art thou master in a ship of mine, + And is thy credit not enough for that? + + _Merch._ The very custom barely comes to more + Than many merchants of the town are worth, + And therefore far exceeds my credit, sir. + + _Bar._ Go tell 'em the Jew of Malta sent thee, man: + Tush! who amongst 'em knows not Barabas? + + _Merch._ I go. + + _Bar._ So then, there's somewhat come. 70 + Sirrah, which of my ships art thou master of? + + _Merch._ Of the Speranza, sir. + + _Bar._ And saw'st thou not + Mine argosy at Alexandria? + Thou could'st not come from Egypt, or by Caire, + But at the entry there into the sea, + Where Nilus pays his tribute to the main, + Thou needs must sail by Alexandria. + + _Merch._ I neither saw them, nor inquired of them: + But this we heard some of our seamen say, 80 + They wondered how you durst with so much wealth + Trust such a crazèd vessel, and so far. + + _Bar._ Tush, they are wise! I know her and her strength. + But[16] go, go thou thy ways, discharge thy ship, + And bid my factor bring his loading in. [_Exit_ Merch. + And yet I wonder at this argosy. + + _Enter a second Merchant._ + + _2 Merch._ Thine argosy from Alexandria, + Know, Barabas, doth ride in Malta Road, + Laden with riches, and exceeding store + Of Persian silks, of gold, and orient pearl. 90 + + _Bar._ How chance you came not with those other ships + That sailed by Eygpt? + + _2 Merch._ Sir, we saw 'em not. + + _Bar._ Belike they coasted round by Candy shore + About their oils, or other businesses. + But 'twas ill done of you to come so far + Without the aid or conduct of their ships. + + _2 Merch._ Sir, we were wafted by a Spanish fleet, + That never left us till within a league, + That had the galleys of the Turk in chase. 100 + + _Bar._ O!--they were going up to Sicily:-- + Well, go, + And bid the merchants and my men despatch + And come ashore, and see the fraught discharged. + + _2 Merch._ I go. [_Exit._ + + _Bar._ Thus trowls our fortune in by land and sea, + And thus are we on every side enriched: + These are the blessings promised to the Jews, + And herein was old Abram's happiness: + What more may heaven do for earthly man 110 + Than thus to pour out plenty in their laps, + Ripping the bowels of the earth for them, + Making the sea[s] their servants, and the winds + To drive their substance with successful blasts? + Who hateth me but for my happiness? + Or who is honoured now but for his wealth? + Rather had I a Jew be hated thus, + Than pitied in a Christian poverty: + For I can see no fruits in all their faith, + But malice, falsehood, and excessive pride, 120 + Which methinks fits not their profession. + Haply some hapless man hath conscience. + And for his conscience lives in beggary. + They say we are a scattered nation: + I cannot tell, but we have scambled[17] up + More wealth by far than those that brag of faith. + There's Kirriah Jairim, the great Jew of Greece, + Obed in Bairseth, Nones in Portugal, + Myself in Malta, some in Italy, + Many in France, and wealthy every one; 130 + I, wealthier far than any Christian. + I must confess we come not to be kings; + That's not our fault: alas, our number's few, + And crowns come either by succession, + Or urged by force; and nothing violent, + Oft have I heard tell, can be permanent. + Give us a peaceful rule, make Christians kings, + That thirst so much for principality. + I have no charge, nor many children, + But one sole daughter, whom I hold as dear 140 + As Agamemnon did his Iphigene: + And all I have is hers. But who comes here? + + _Enter three_ Jews.[18] + + _1 Jew._ Tush, tell not me; 'twas done of policy. + + _2 Jew._ Come, therefore, let us go to Barabas, + For he can counsel best in these affairs; + And here he comes. + + _Bar._ Why, how now, countrymen! + Why flock you thus to me in multitudes? + What accident's betided to the Jews? + + _1 Jew._ A fleet of warlike galleys, Barabas, 150 + Are come from Turkey, and lie in our road: + And they this day sit in the council-house + To entertain them and their embassy. + + _Bar._ Why, let 'em come, so they come not to war; + Or let 'em war, so we be conquerors-- + Nay, let 'em combat, conquer, and kill all! + So they spare me, my daughter, and my wealth. [_Aside._ + + _1 Jew._ Were it for confirmation of a league, + They would not come in warlike manner thus. + + _2 Jew._ I fear their coming will afflict us all. 160 + + _Bar._ Fond men! what dream you of their multitudes. + What need they treat of peace that are in league? + The Turks and those of Malta are in league. + Tut, tut, there is some other matter in't. + + _1 Jew._ Why, Barabas, they come for peace or war. + + _Bar._ Haply for neither, but to pass along + Towards Venice by the Adriatic Sea; + With whom they have attempted many times, + But never could effect their stratagem. + + _3 Jew._ And very wisely said. It may be so. 170 + + _2 Jew._ But there's a meeting in the senate-house, + And all the Jews in Malta must be there. + + _Bar._ Hum; all the Jews in Malta must be there? + I, like enough, why then let every man + Provide him, and be there for fashion-sake. + If anything shall there concern our state, + Assure yourselves I'll look--unto myself. [_Aside._ + + _1 Jew._ I know you will; well, brethren, let us go. + + _2 Jew._ Let's take our leaves; farewell, good Barabas. + + _Bar._ Farewell,[19] Zaareth; farewell, Temainte. 180 + [_Exeunt Jews._ + And, Barabas, now search this secret out; + Summon thy senses, call thy wits together: + These silly men mistake the matter clean. + Long to the Turk did Malta contribute; + Which tribute, all in policy I fear, + The Turks have let increase to such a sum + As all the wealth in Malta cannot pay; + And now by that advantage thinks belike + To seize upon the town: I, that he seeks. + Howe'er the world go, I'll make sure for one, 190 + And seek in time to intercept the worst, + Warily guarding that which I ha' got. + _Ego mihimet sum semper proximus._[20] + Why, let 'em enter, let 'em take the town. + [_Exit._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_[21] _Governor of_ Malta, Knights, + _and_ Officers; _met by_ Bassoes + _of the_ Turk, CALYMATH. + + _Gov._ Now, Bassoes, what demand you at our hands? + + _1 Bas._ Know, Knights of Malta, that we come from Rhodes, + From Cyprus, Candy, and those other Isles + That lie betwixt the Mediterranean seas. + + _Gov._ What's Cyprus, Candy, and those other Isles + To us, or Malta? What at our hands demand ye? + + _Cal._ The ten years' tribute that remains unpaid. + + _Gov._ Alas! my lord, the sum is over-great, + I hope your highness will consider us. 10 + + _Cal._ I wish, grave governor, 'twere in my power + To favour you, but 'tis my father's cause, + Wherein I may not, nay, I dare not dally. + + _Gov._ Then give us leave, great Selim Calymath. + [_Consults apart with the_ Knights. + + _Cal._ Stand all aside, and let the Knights determine, + And send to keep our galleys under sail, + For happily we shall not tarry here; + Now, governor,[22] [say,] how are you resolved? + + _Gov._ Thus: since your hard conditions are such + That you will needs have ten years' tribute past, 20 + We may have time to make collection + Amongst the inhabitants of Malta for't. + + _1 Bas._ That's more than is in our commission. + + _Cal._ What, Callipine! a little courtesy. + Let's know their time, perhaps it is not long; + And 'tis more kingly to obtain by peace + Than to enforce conditions by constraint. + What respite ask you, governor?[1] + + _Gov._ But a month. + + _Cal._ We grant a month, but see you keep your promise. + Now launch our galleys back again to sea, 30 + Where we'll attend the respite you have ta'en, + And for the money send our messenger. + Farewell, great governor[23] and brave Knights of Malta. + + _Gov._ And all good fortune wait on Calymath! + [_Exeunt_ CALYMATH _and_ Bassoes. + Go one and call those Jews of Malta hither: + Were they not summoned to appear to-day? + + _Off._ They were, my lord, and here they come. + + _Enter_ BARABAS _and three_ Jews. + + _1 Knight._ Have you determined what to say to them? + + _Gov._ Yes, give me leave:--and, Hebrews, now come near. + From the Emperor of Turkey is arrived 40 + Great Selim Calymath, his highness' son, + To levy of us ten years' tribute past, + Now then, here know that it concerneth us-- + + _Bar._ Then, good my lord, to keep your quiet still, + Your lordship shall do well to let them have it. + + _Gov._ Soft, Barabas, there's more 'longs to 't than so. + To what this ten years' tribute will amount, + That we have cast, but cannot compass it + By reason of the wars that robbed our store; + And therefore are we to request your aid. 50 + + _Bar._ Alas, my lord, we are no soldiers: + And what's our aid against so great a prince? + + _1 Knight._ Tut, Jew, we know thou art no soldier; + Thou art a merchant and a moneyed man, + And 'tis thy money, Barabas, we seek. + + _Bar._ How, my lord! my money? + + _Gov._ Thine and the rest. + For, to be short, amongst you't must be had. + + _1 Jew._ Alas, my lord, the most of us are poor. + + _Gov._ Then let the rich increase your portions. + + _Bar._ Are strangers with your tribute to be taxed? 60 + + _2 Knight._ Have strangers leave with us to get their wealth? + Then let them with us contribute. + + _Bar._ How! equally? + + _Gov._ No, Jew, like infidels. + For through our sufferance of your hateful lives, + Who stand accursèd in the sight of Heaven, + These taxes and afflictions are befallen, + And therefore thus we are determinèd. + Read there the articles of our decrees. + + _Reader. First, the tribute-money of the Turks shall all + be levied amongst the Jews, and each of them to pay one + half of his estate._ 70 + + _Bar._ How, half his estate? I hope you mean not mine. [_Aside._ + + _Gov._ Read on. + + _Reader. Secondly, he that denies to pay shall straight + become a Christian._ + + _Bar._ How! a Christian? Hum, what's here to do? [_Aside._ + + _Reader. Lastly, he that denies this shall absolutely lose + all he has._ + + _All 3 Jews._ O my lord, we will give half. + + _Bar._ O earth-mettled villains, and no Hebrews born! + And will you basely thus submit yourselves 80 + To leave your goods to their arbitrament? + + _Gov._ Why, Barabas, wilt thou be christenèd? + + _Bar._ No, governor, I will be no convertite.[24] + + _Gov._ Then pay thy half. + + _Bar._ Why, know you what you did by this device? + Half of my substance is a city's wealth. + Governor, it was not got so easily; + Nor will I part so slightly therewithal. + + _Gov._ Sir, half is the penalty of our decree, + Either pay that, or we will seize on all. + + _Bar. Corpo di Dio!_ stay! you shall have the half; 90 + Let me be used but as my brethren are. + + _Gov._ No, Jew, thou hast denied the articles, + And now it cannot be recalled. + + _Bar._ Will you then steal my goods? + Is theft the ground of your religion? + + _Gov._ No, Jew, we take particularly thine + To save the ruin of a multitude: + And better one want for the common good + Than many perish for a private man: + Yet, Barabas, we will not banish thee, 100 + But here in Malta, where thou gott'st thy wealth, + Live still; and, if thou canst, get more. + + _Bar._ Christians, what or how can I multiply? + Of naught is nothing made. + + _1 Knight._ From naught at first thou cam'st to little wealth, + From little unto more, from more to most: + If your first curse fall heavy on thy head, + And make thee poor and scorned of all the world, + 'Tis not our fault, but thy inherent sin. + + _Bar._ What, bring you scripture to confirm your wrongs? 110 + Preach me not out of my possessions. + Some Jews are wicked, as all Christians are: + But say the tribe that I descended of + Were all in general cast away for sin, + Shall I be tried by their transgression? + The man that dealeth righteously shall live: + And which of you can charge me otherwise? + + _Gov._ Out, wretched Barabas! + Sham'st thou not thus to justify thyself, + As if we knew not thy profession? 120 + If thou rely upon thy righteousness, + Be patient and thy riches will increase. + Excess of wealth is cause of covetousness: + And covetousness, O, 'tis a monstrous sin. + + _Bar._ I, but theft is worse: tush! take not from me then, + For that is theft! and if you rob me thus, + I must be forced to steal and compass more. + + _1 Knight._ Grave governor,[25] listen not to his exclaims. + Convert his mansion to a nunnery; + His house will harbour many holy nuns. 130 + + _Gov._ It shall be so. + + _Enter_ Officers. + + Now, officers, have you done? + + _Off._ I, my lord, we have seized upon the goods + And wares of Barabas, which being valued, + Amount to more than all the wealth in Malta, + And of the other we have seizèd half. + + _Gov._[26] Then we'll take order for the residue. + + _Bar._ Well then, my lord, say, are you satisfied? + You have my goods, my money, and my wealth, + My ships, my store, and all that I enjoyed; + And, having all, you can request no more; 140 + Unless your unrelenting flinty hearts + Suppress all pity in your stony breasts, + And now shall move you to bereave my life. + + _Gov._ No, Barabas, to stain our hands with blood + Is far from us and our profession. + + _Bar._ Why, I esteem the injury far less + To take the lives of miserable men + Than be the causes of their misery. + You have my wealth, the labour of my life, + The comfort of mine age, my children's hope, 150 + And therefore ne'er distinguish of the wrong. + + _Gov._ Content thee, Barabas, thou hast naught but right. + + _Bar._ Your extreme right does me exceeding wrong: + But take it to you, i' the devil's name. + + _Gov._ Come, let us in, and gather of these goods + The money for this tribute of the Turk. + + _1 Knight._ 'Tis necessary that be looked unto: + For if we break our day, we break the league, + And that will prove but simple policy. + [_Exeunt, all except_ BARABAS _and the_ Jews. + + _Bar._ I, policy! that's their profession, 160 + And not simplicity, as they suggest. + The plagues of Egypt, and the curse of Heaven, + Earth's barrenness, and all men's hatred + Inflict upon them, thou great _Primus Motor_! + And here upon my knees, striking the earth, + I ban their souls to everlasting pains + And extreme tortures of the fiery deep, + That thus have dealt with me in my distress. + + _1 Jew._ O yet be patient, gentle Barabas. + + _Bar._ O silly brethren, born to see this day; 170 + Why stand you thus unmoved with my laments? + Why weep ye not to think upon my wrongs? + Why pine not I, and die in this distress? + + _1 Jew._ Why, Barabas, as hardly can we brook + The cruel handling of ourselves in this; + Thou seest they have taken half our goods. + + _Bar._ Why did you yield to their extortion? + You were a multitude, and I but one: + And of me only have they taken all. + + _1 Jew._ Yet, brother Barabas, remember Job. 180 + + _Bar._ What tell you me of Job? I wot his wealth + Was written thus: he had seven thousand sheep, + Three thousand camels, and two hundred yoke + Of labouring oxen, and five hundred + She-asses: but for every one of those, + Had they been valued at indifferent rate, + I had at home, and in mine argosy, + And other ships that came from Egypt last, + As much as would have bought his beasts and him, + And yet have kept enough to live upon: 190 + So that not he, but I may curse the day, + Thy fatal birth-day, forlorn Barabas; + And henceforth wish for an eternal night, + That clouds of darkness may inclose my flesh, + And hide these extreme sorrows from mine eyes: + For only I have toiled to inherit here + The months of vanity and loss of time, + And painful nights, have been appointed me. + + _2 Jew._ Good Barabas, be patient. + + _Bar._ I, I; pray leave me in my patience. 200 + You that were[27] ne'er possessed of wealth, are pleased with want; + But give him liberty at least to mourn, + That in a field amidst his enemies + Doth see his soldiers slain, himself disarmed, + And knows no means of his recovery: + I, let me sorrow for this sudden chance; + 'Tis in the trouble of my spirit I speak; + Great injuries are not so soon forgot. + + + _1 Jew._ Come, let us leave him; in his ireful mood + Our words will but increase his ecstasy. 210 + + _2 Jew._ On, then; but trust me 'tis a misery + To see a man in such affliction.-- + Farewell, Barabas! + [_Exeunt._ + + _Bar._ I, fare you well. + See the simplicity of these base slaves, + Who, for the villains have no wit themselves, + Think me to be a senseless lump of clay + That will with every water wash to dirt: + No, Barabas is born to better chance, + And framed of finer mould than common men, + That measure naught but by the present time. 220 + A reaching thought will search his deepest wits, + And cast with cunning for the time to come: + For evils are apt to happen every day-- + But whither wends my beauteous Abigail? + + _Enter_ ABIGAIL, _the Jew's daughter_. + + O! what has made my lovely daughter sad? + What, woman! moan not for a little loss: + Thy father hath enough in store for thee. + + _Abig._ Nor [not?] for myself, but agèd Barabas: + Father, for thee lamenteth Abigail: + But I will learn to leave these fruitless tears, 230 + And, urged thereto with my afflictions, + With fierce exclaims run to the senate-house, + And in the senate reprehend them all, + And rend their hearts with tearing of my hair, + Till they reduce[28] the wrongs done to my father. + + _Bar._ No, Abigail, things past recovery + Are hardly cured with exclamations. + Be silent, daughter, sufferance breeds ease, + And time may yield us an occasion + Which on the sudden cannot serve the turn. 240 + Besides, my girl, think me not all so fond + As negligently to forego so much + Without provision for thyself and me. + Ten thousand portagues,[29] besides great pearls, + Rich costly jewels, and stones infinite, + Fearing the worst of this before it fell, + I closely hid. + + _Abig._ Where, father? + + _Bar._ In my house, my girl. + + _Abig._ Then shall they ne'er be seen of Barabas: 250 + For they have seized upon thy house and wares. + + _Bar._ But they will give me leave once more, I trow, + To go into my house. + + _Abig._ That may they not: + For there I left the governor placing nuns, + Displacing me; and of thy house they mean + To make a nunnery, where none but their own sect[30] + Must enter in; men generally barred. + + _Bar._ My gold! my gold! and all my wealth is gone! + You partial heavens, have I deserved this plague? + What, will you thus oppose me, luckless stars, 260 + To make me desperate in my poverty? + And knowing me impatient in distress, + Think me so mad as I will hang myself, + That I may vanish o'er the earth in air, + And leave no memory that e'er I was? + No, I will live; nor loathe I this my life: + And, since you leave me in the ocean thus + To sink or swim, and put me to my shifts, + I'll rouse my senses and awake myself. + Daughter! I have it: thou perceiv'st the plight 270 + Wherein these Christians have oppressèd me: + Be ruled by me, for in extremity + We ought to make bar of no policy. + + _Abig._ Father, whate'er it be to injure them + That have so manifestly wrongèd us, + What will not Abigail attempt? + + _Bar._ Why, so; + Then thus, thou told'st me they have turned my house + Into a nunnery, and some nuns are there? + + _Abig._ I did. + + _Bar._ Then, Abigail, there must my girl + Entreat the abbess to be entertained. 280 + + _Abig._ How, as a nun? + + _Bar._ I, daughter, for religion + Hides many mischiefs from suspicion. + + _Abig._ I, but, father, they will suspect me there. + + _Bar._ Let 'em suspect; but be thou so precise + As they may think it done of holiness. + Entreat 'em fair, and give them friendly speech, + And seem to them as if thy sins were great, + Till thou hast gotten to be entertained. + + _Abig._ Thus, father, shall I much dissemble. + + _Bar._ Tush! + As good dissemble that thou never mean'st, 290 + As first mean truth and then dissemble it,-- + A counterfeit profession is better + Than unseen[31] hypocrisy. + + _Abig._ Well, father, say [that] I be entertained, + What then shall follow? + + _Bar._ This shall follow then; + There have I hid, close underneath the plank + That runs along the upper chamber floor, + The gold and jewels which I kept for thee. + But here they come; be cunning, Abigail. + + _Abig._ Then, father, go with me. + + _Bar._ No, Abigail, in this 300 + It is not necessary I be seen: + For I will seem offended with thee for't: + Be close, my girl, for this must fetch my gold. + [_They draw back_. + _Enter_ Friar[32] JACOMO, Friar BERNARDINE, Abbess, + _and a_ Nun. + + _F. Jac._ Sisters, we now are almost at the new-made nunnery. + + _Abb._[33] The better; for we love not to be seen: + 'Tis thirty winters long since some of us + Did stray so far amongst the multitude. + + _F. Jac._ But, madam, this house + And waters[34] of this new-made nunnery + Will much delight you. 310 + + _Abb._[35] It may be so; but who comes here? + [ABIGAIL _comes forward._ + _Abig._ Grave abbess, and you, happy virgins' guide, + Pity the state of a distressèd maid. + + _Abb._ What art thou, daughter? + + _Abig._ The hopeless daughter of a hapless Jew, + The Jew of Malta, wretched Barabas; + Sometimes[36] the owner of a goodly house, + Which they have now turned to a nunnery. + + _Abb._ Well, daughter, say, what is thy suit with us? + + _Abig._ Fearing the afflictions which my father feels 320 + Proceed from sin, or want of faith in us, + I'd pass away my life in penitence, + And be a novice in your nunnery, + To make atonement for my labouring soul. + + _F. Jac._ No doubt, brother, but this proceedeth of the spirit. + + _F. Barn._ I, and of a moving spirit too, brother; but come, + Let us intreat she may be entertained. + + _Abb._ Well, daughter, we admit you for a nun. + + _Abig._ First let me as a novice learn to frame + My solitary life to your strait laws, 330 + And let me lodge where I was wont to lie, + I do not doubt, by your divine precepts + And mine own industry, but to profit much. + + _Bar._ As much, I hope, as all I hid is worth. [_Aside._ + + _Abb._ Come, daughter, follow us. + + _Bar._ Why, how now, Abigail, + What makest thou amongst these hateful Christians? + + _F. Jac._ Hinder her not, thou man of little faith, + For she has mortified herself. + + _Bar._ How! mortified? + + _F. Jac._ And is admitted to the sisterhood. + + _Bar._ Child of perdition, and thy father's shame! 340 + What wilt thou do among these hateful fiends? + I charge thee on my blessing that thou leave + These devils, and their damnèd heresy. + + _Abig._ Father, give[37] me-- [_She goes to him._ + + _Bar._ Nay, back, Abigail, + (_And think upon the jewels and the gold_, [_Whispers to her. + The board is markèd thus that covers it._) + Away, accursèd, from thy father's sight. + + _F. Jac._ Barabas, although thou art in misbelief, + And wilt not see thine own afflictions, + Yet let thy daughter be no longer blind. 350 + + _Bar._ Blind friar, I reck not thy persuasions, + (_The board is markèd thus[38] that covers it_.) + + For I had rather die than see her thus. + Wilt thou forsake me too in my distress, + Seducèd daughter? (_Go, forget not, go._[39]) + Becomes it Jews to be so credulous? + (_To-morrow early I'll be at the door._) + No, come not at me; if thou wilt be damned, + Forget me, see me not, and so be gone. + (_Farewell, remember to-morrow morning._) 360 + Out, out, thou wretch! + + [_Exeunt, on one side_ Barabas, _on the other side_ + Friars, Abbess, Nun _and_ Abigail; _as they are going out_, + + _Enter_ MATHIAS. + + _Math._ Who's this? fair Abigail, the rich Jew's daughter, + Become a nun! her father's sudden fall + Has humbled her and brought her down to this: + Tut, she were fitter for a tale of love, + Than to be tired out with orisons: + And better would she far become a bed, + Embracèd in a friendly lover's arms, + Than rise at midnight to a solemn mass. + + _Enter_ LODOWICK. + + _Lod._ Why, how now, Don Mathias! in a dump? 370 + + _Math._ Believe me, noble Lodowick, I have seen + The strangest sight, in my opinion, + That ever I beheld. + + _Lod._ What was't, I prythee? + + _Math._ A fair young maid, scarce fourteen years of age, + The sweetest flower in Cytherea's field, + Cropt from the pleasures of the fruitful earth, + And strangely metamorphos'd to a nun. + + _Lod._ But say, what was she? + + _Math._ Why, the rich Jew's daughter. + + _Lod._ What, Barabas, whose goods were lately seized? + Is she so fair? + + _Math._ And matchless beautiful; 380 + As had you seen her 'twould have moved your heart, + Though countermined with walls of brass, to love, + Or at the least to pity. + + _Lod._ And if she be so fair as you report, + 'Twere time well spent to go and visit her: + How say you, shall we? + + _Math._ I must and will, sir; there's no remedy. + + _Lod._ And so will I too, or it shall go hard. + Farewell, Mathias. + + _Math._ Farewell, Lodowick. + [_Exeunt severally._ + + + + + ACT THE SECOND. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_[40] BARABAS _with a light._ + + _Bar._ Thus,[41] like the sad presaging raven, that tolls + The sick man's passport in her hollow beak, + And in the shadow of the silent night + Doth shake contagion from her sable wings; + Vexed and tormented runs poor Barabas + With fatal curses towards these Christians + The uncertain pleasures of swift-footed time + Have ta'en their flight, and left me in despair; + And of my former riches rests no more + But bare remembrance, like a soldier's scar, 10 + That has no further comfort for his maim. + O thou, that with a fiery pillar led'st + The sons of Israel through the dismal shades, + Light Abraham's offspring; and direct the hand + Of Abigail this night; or let the day + Turn to eternal darkness after this: + No sleep can fasten on my watchful eyes, + Nor quiet enter my distempered thoughts, + Till I have answer of my Abigail. + + _Enter_ ABIGAIL _above._ + + _Abig._ Now have I happily espied a time 20 + To search the plank my father did appoint; + And here behold, unseen, where I have found + The gold, the pearls, and jewels, which he hid. + + _Bar._ Now I remember those old women's words, + Who in my wealth would tell me winter's tales,[42] + And speak of spirits and ghosts that glide by night + About the place where treasure hath been hid:[43] + And now methinks that I am one of those: + For whilst I live, here lives my soul's sole hope, + And, when I die, here shall my spirit walk. 30 + + _Abig._ Now that my father's fortune were so good + As but to be about this happy place; + 'Tis not so happy: yet when we parted last, + He said he would attend me in the morn. + Then, gentle sleep, where'er his body rests, + Give charge to Morpheus that he may dream + A golden dream, and of the sudden wake,[44] + Come and receive the treasure I have found. + + _Bar._ _Bueno para todos mi ganado no era_:[45] + As good go on as sit so sadly thus. 40 + But stay, what star shines yonder in the east?[46] + The loadstar of my life, if Abigail. + Who's there? + + _Abig._ Who's that? + + _Bar._ Peace, Abigail, 'tis I. + + _Abig._ Then, father, here receive thy happiness. + [_Throws down bags._ + + _Bar._ Hast thou't? + + _Abig._ Here, [_throws down the bags_] hast thou't? + There's more, and more, and more. + + _Bar._ O my girl, + My gold, my fortune, my felicity! + Strength to my soul, death to mine enemy! + Welcome the first beginner of my bliss! + O Abigail, Abigail, that I had thee here too! 50 + Then my desires were fully satisfied: + But I will practise thy enlargement thence: + O girl! O gold! O beauty! O my bliss! + [_Hugs his bags._ + _Abig._ Father, it draweth towards midnight now, + And 'bout this time the nuns begin to wake; + To shun suspicion, therefore, let us part. + + _Bar_. Farewell, my joy, and by my fingers take + A kiss from him that sends it from his soul. + [_Exit_ ABIGAIL _above._ + Now Phoebus ope the eyelids[47] of the day, + And for the raven wake the morning lark, 60 + That I may hover with her in the air; + Singing o'er these, as she does o'er her young. + _Hermoso[48] Piarer de les Denirch._ + [_Exit._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_[49] Governor, MARTIN DEL BOSCO, _and_ Knights. + + _Gov._ Now, captain, tell us whither thou art bound? + Whence is thy ship that anchors in our road? + And why thou cam'st ashore without our leave? + + _Bosc._ Governor of Malta, hither am I bound; + My ship, the Flying Dragon, is of Spain, + And so am I: Del Bosco is my name; + Vice-admiral unto the Catholic King. + + _1 Knight._ 'Tis true, my lord, therefore entreat him well. + + _Bosc._ Our fraught is Grecians, Turks, and Afric Moors. + For late upon the coast of Corsica, 10 + Because we vailed[50] not to the Turkish[51] fleet, + Their creeping galleys had us in the chase: + But suddenly the wind began to rise, + And then we luffed and tacked,[52] and fought at ease: + Some have we fired, and many have we sunk; + But one amongst the rest became our prize: + The captain's slain, the rest remain our slaves, + Of whom we would make sale in Malta here. + + _Gov._ Martin del Bosco, I have heard of thee; + Welcome to Malta, and to all of us; 20 + But to admit a sale of these thy Turks + We may not, nay, we dare not give consent + By reason of a tributary league. + + _1 Knight._ Del Bosco, as thou lov'st and honour'st us, + Persuade our governor against the Turk; + This truce we have is but in hope of gold, + And with that sum he craves might we wage war. + + _Bosc._ Will Knights of Malta be in league with Turks, + And buy it basely too for sums of gold? + My lord, remember that, to Europe's shame, 30 + The Christian Isle of Rhodes, from whence you came, + Was lately lost, and you were stated[53] here + To be at deadly enmity with Turks. + + _Gov._ Captain, we know it, but our force is small. + + _Bosc._ What is the sum that Calymath requires? + + _Gov._ A hundred thousand crowns. + + _Bosc._ My lord and king hath title to this isle, + And he means quickly to expel you hence; + Therefore be ruled by me, and keep the gold: + I'll write unto his majesty for aid, 40 + And not depart until I see you free. + + _Gov._ On this condition shall thy Turks be sold: + Go, officers, and set them straight in show. + [_Exeunt Officers._ + Bosco, thou shall be Malta's general; + We and our warlike Knights will follow thee + Against these barb'rous misbelieving Turks. + + _Bosc._ So shall you imitate those you succeed: + For when their hideous force environed Rhodes, + Small though the number was that kept the town, + They fought it out, and not a man survived 50 + To bring the hapless news to Christendom. + + _Gov._ So will we fight it out; come, let's away: + Proud daring Calymath, instead of gold, + We'll send thee bullets wrapt[54] in smoke and fire: + Claim tribute where thou wilt, we are resolved, + Honour is bought with blood and not with gold. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE III. + + _Enter[55] Officers with_ ITHAMORE _and other slaves._ + _1 Off._ This is the market-place, here let 'em stand: + Fear not their sale, for they'll be quickly bought. + + _2 Off._ Every one's price is written on his back, + And so much must they yield or not be sold. + + _1 Off._ Here comes the Jew; had not his goods been seized, + He'd given us present money for them all. + + _Enter_ BARABAS. + + _Bar._ In spite of these swine-eating Christians,-- + Unchosen nation, never circumcised, + Such[56] as (poor villains!) were ne'er thought upon + Till Titus and Vespasian conquered us,-- 10 + Am I become as wealthy as I was: + They hoped my daughter would ha' been a nun; + But she's at home, and I have bought a house + As great and fair as is the Governor's; + And there in spite of Malta will I dwell: + Having Ferneze's hand, whose heart I'll have; + I, and his son's too, or it shall go hard. + I am not of the tribe of Levi, I, + That can so soon forget an injury. + We Jews can fawn like spaniels when we please: 20 + And when we grin we bite, yet are our looks + As innocent and harmless as a lamb's. + I learned in Florence how to kiss my hand, + Heave up my shoulders when they call me dog,[57] + And duck as low as any barefoot friar; + Hoping to see them starve upon a stall, + + Or else be gathered for in our Synagogue, + That, when the offering-basin comes to me, + Even for charity I may spit into't. + Here comes Don Lodowick, the Governor's son, 30 + One that I love for his good father's sake. + + _Enter_ LODOWICK. + + _Lod._ I hear the wealthy Jew walkèd this way: + I'll seek him out, and so insinuate, + That I may have a sight of Abigail; + For Don Mathias tells me she is fair. + + _Bar._ Now will I show myself + To have more of the serpent than the dove; + That is--more knave than fool. + + _Lod._ Yond' walks the Jew; now for fair Abigail. + + _Bar._ I, I, no doubt but she's at your command. [_Aside._ 40 + + _Lod._ Barabas, thou know'st I am the Governor's son. + + _Bar._ I would you were his father too, sir; + That's all the harm I wish you.--The slave looks + Like a hog's-cheek new singed. [_Aside._ + + _Lod._ Whither walk'st thou, Barabas? + + _Bar._ No farther: 'tis a custom held with us, + That when we speak with Gentiles like to you, + We turn into the air to purge ourselves: + For unto us the promise doth belong. + + _Lod._ Well, Barabas, canst help me to a diamond? 50 + + _Bar._ O, sir, your father had my diamonds. + Yet I have one left that will serve your turn:-- + I mean my daughter: but ere he shall have her + I'll sacrifice her on a pile of wood. + I ha' the poison of the city [?] for him, + And the white leprosy. [_Aside._ + + _Lod._ What sparkle does it give without a foil? + + _Bar._ The diamond that I talk of ne'er was foiled:-- + But when he touches it, he will be foiled:-- [_Aside._ + Lord Lodowick, it sparkles bright and fair. 60 + + _Lod._ Is it square or pointed, pray let me know. + + _Bar._ Pointed it is, good sir--but not for you. [_Aside._ + + _Lod._ I like it much the better. + + _Bar._ So do I too. + + _Lod._ How shows it by night? + + _Bar._ Outshines Cynthia's rays: + You'll like it better far o' nights than days. [_Aside._ + + _Lod._ And what's the price? + + _Bar._ Your life an' if you have it. [_Aside._] O my lord, + We will not jar about the price; come to my house + And I will give't your honour--with a vengeance. [_Aside._ + + _Lod._ No, Barabas, I will deserve it first. 70 + + _Bar._ Good sir, + Your father has deserved it at my hands, + Who, of mere charity and Christian truth, + To bring me to religious purity, + And as it were in catechising sort, + To make me mindful of my mortal sins, + Against my will, and whether I would or no, + Seized all I had, and thrust me out o' doors, + And made my house a place for nuns most chaste. + + _Lod._ No doubt your soul shall reap the fruit of it. 80 + + _Bar._ I, but, my lord, the harvest is far off: + And yet I know the prayers of those nuns + And holy friars, having money for their pains, + Are wondrous;--and indeed do no man good: [_Aside._ + And seeing they are not idle, but still doing, + 'Tis likely they in time may reap some fruit, + I mean in fulness of perfection. + + _Lod._ Good Barabas, glance not at our holy nuns. + + _Bar._ No, but I do it through a burning zeal,-- + Hoping ere long to set the house afire; 90 + For though they do a while increase and multiply, + I'll have a saying to[58] that nunnery.-- [_Aside._ + As for the diamond, sir, I told you of, + Come home and there's no price shall make us part, + Even for your honourable father's sake.-- + It shall go hard but I will see your death.-- [_Aside._ + But now I must be gone to buy a slave. + + _Lod._ And, Barabas, I'll bear thee company. + + _Bar._ Come then--here's the market-place. + What's the price of this slave? Two hundred crowns! + Do the Turks weigh so much? 100 + + _1 Off._ Sir, that's his price. + + _Bar._ What, can he steal that you demand so much? + Belike he has some new trick for a purse; + And if he has, he is worth three hundred plates,[59] + + So that, being bought, the town-seal might be got + To keep him for his lifetime from the gallows: + The sessions day is critical to thieves, + And few or none 'scape but by being purged. + + _Lod._ Rat'st thou this Moor but at two hundred plates? + + _1 Off._ No more, my lord. 110 + + _Bar._ Why should this Turk be dearer than that Moor? + + _1 Off._ Because he is young and has more qualities. + + _Bar._ What, hast the philosopher's stone? and thou + hast, break my head with it, I'll forgive thee. + + _Slave._[60] No, sir; I can cut and shave. + + _Bar._ Let me see, sirrah, are you not an old shaver?[61] + + _Slave._[62] Alas, sir! I am a very youth. + + _Bar._ A youth? I'll buy you, and marry you to Lady + Vanity,[63] if you do well. + + _Slave._ I will serve you, sir. 120 + + _Bar._ Some wicked trick or other. It may be, under + colour of shaving, thou'lt cut my throat for my goods. + Tell me, hast thou thy health well? + + _Slave._ I, passing well. + + _Bar._ So much the worse; I must have one that's + sickly, and be but for sparing victuals: 'tis not a stone of + beef a day will maintain you in these chops; let me see + one that's somewhat leaner. + + _1 Off._ Here's a leaner, how like you him? + + _Bar._ Where wast thou born? 130 + + _Itha._ In Thrace; brought up in Arabia. + + _Bar._ So much the better, thou art for my turn, + An hundred crowns, I'll have him; there's the coin. + + _1 Off._ Then mark him, sir, and take him hence. + + _Bar._ I, mark him, you were best, for this is he + That by my help shall do much villainy. [_Aside._ + My lord, farewell: Come, sirrah, you are mine. + As for the diamond, it shall be yours; + I pray, sir, be no stranger at my house, + All that I have shall be at your command. 140 + + _Enter_ MATHIAS _and his_ Mother.[64] + + _Math._ What makes the Jew and Lodowick so private? + I fear me 'tis about fair Abigail. + + _Bar._ Yonder comes Don Mathias, let us stay;[65] + [_Exit_ LODOWICK. + He loves my daughter, and she holds him dear: + But I have sworn to frustrate both their hopes, + And be revenged upon the Governor. + + _Moth._ This Moor is comeliest, is he not? speak, son. + + _Math._ No, this is the better, mother; view this well. + + _Bar._ Seem not to know me here before your mother, + Lest she mistrust the match that is in hand: 150 + When you have brought her home, come to my house; + Think of me as thy father; son, farewell. + + _Math._ But wherefore talked Don Lodowick with you? + + _Bar._ Tush! man, we talked of diamonds, not of Abigail. + + _Moth._ Tell me, Mathias, is not that the Jew? + + _Bar._ As for the comment on the Maccabees, + I have it, sir, and 'tis at your command. + + _Math._ Yes, madam, and my talk with him was [but][66] + About the borrowing of a book or two. + + _Moth._ Converse not with him, he's cast off from heaven. 160 + Thou hast thy crowns, fellow; come, let's away. + + _Math._ Sirrah, Jew, remember the book. + + _Bar._ Marry will I, sir. + [_Exeunt_ MATHIAS _and his_ Mother. + _Off._ Come, I have made + A reasonable market; let's away. + [_Exeunt_ Officers _with slaves._ + _Bar._ Now let me know thy name, and therewithal + Thy birth, condition, and profession. + + _Itha._ Faith, sir, my birth is but mean: my name's + Ithamore, my profession what you please. + + _Bar._ Hast thou no trade? then listen to my words, 170 + And I will teach [thee] that shall stick by thee: + First be thou void of these affections, + Compassion, love, vain hope, and heartless fear, + Be moved at nothing, see thou pity none, + But to thyself smile when the Christians moan. + + _Itha._ O brave! master, I worship your nose[67] for this + + _Bar._ As[68] for myself, I walk abroad o' nights + And kill sick people groaning under walls: + Sometimes I go about and poison wells; + And now and then, to cherish Christian thieves, 180 + I am content to lose some of my crowns, + That I may, walking in my gallery, + See 'em go pinioned along by my door. + Being young, I studied physic, and began + To practise first upon the Italian; + There I enriched the priests with burials, + And always kept the sextons' arms in ure[69] + With digging graves and ringing dead men's knells: + And after that was I an engineer, + And in the wars 'twixt France and Germany, 190 + Under pretence of helping Charles the Fifth, + Slew friend and enemy with my stratagems. + Then after that was I an usurer, + And with extorting, cozening, forfeiting, + And tricks belonging unto brokery, + I filled the jails with bankrupts in a year, + And with young orphans planted hospitals, + And every moon made some or other mad, + And now and then one hang himself for grief, + Pinning upon his breast a long great scroll 200 + How I with interest tormented him. + But mark how I am blest for plaguing them; + I have as much coin as will buy the town. + But tell me now, how hast thou spent thy time? + + _Itha._ 'Faith, master, + In setting Christian villages on fire, + Chaining of eunuchs, binding galley-slaves. + One time I was an hostler in an inn, + And in the night time secretly would I steal + To travellers' chambers, and there cut their throats: 210 + Once at Jerusalem, where the pilgrims kneeled, + I strewed powder on the marble stones, + And therewithal their knees would rankle so + That I have laughed a-good[70] to see the cripples + Go limping home to Christendom on stilts. + + _Bar._ Why this is something: make account of me + As of thy fellow; we are villains both: + Both circumcisèd, we hate Christians both: + Be true and secret, thou shalt want no gold. + But stand aside, here comes Don Lodowick. 220 + + _Enter_ LODOWICK. + + _Lod._ O Barabas, well met; + Where is the diamond you told me of? + + _Bar._ I have it for you, sir; please you walk in with me: + What ho, Abigail![71] open the door, I say. + + _Enter_ ABIGAIL. + + _Abig._ In good time, father; here are letters come + From Ormus, and the post stays here within. + + _Bar._ Give me the letters.--Daughter, do you hear, + Entertain Lodowick the Governor's son + With all the courtesy you can afford; + Provided that you keep your maidenhead. 230 + Use him as if he were a Philistine. + Dissemble, swear, protest, vow love[72] to him, + He is not of the seed of Abraham. + I am a little busy, sir, pray pardon me. + Abigail, bid him welcome for my sake. [_Aside._ + + _Abig._ For your sake and his own he's welcome hither. + + _Bar._ Daughter, a word more; kiss him, speak him fair, + And like a cunning Jew so cast about, + That ye be both made sure[73] ere you come out. [_Aside._ + + _Abig._ O father! Don Mathias is my love. 240 + + _Bar._ I know it: yet I say, make love to him; + Do, it is requisite it should be so-- + Nay, on my life, it is my factor's hand-- + But go you in, I'll think upon the account. + [_Exeunt_ ABIGAIL _and_ LODOWICK. + The account is made, for Lodowick [he][74] dies. + My factor sends me word a merchant's fled + That owes me for a hundred tun of wine: + I weigh it thus much [_snapping his fingers_]; I have wealth enough. + For now by this has he kissed Abigail; + And she vows love to him, and he to her. 250 + As sure as heaven rained manna for the Jews, + So sure shall he and Don Mathias die: + His father was my chiefest enemy. + + _Enter_ MATHIAS. + + Whither goes Don Mathias? stay awhile. + + _Math._ Whither, but to my fair love Abigail? + + _Bar._ Thou know'st, and Heaven can witness this is true, + That I intend my daughter shall be thine. + + _Math._ I, Barabas, or else thou wrong'st me much. + + _Bar._ O, Heaven forbid I should have such a thought. + Pardon me though I weep: the Governor's son 260 + Will, whether I will or no, have Abigail: + He sends her letters, bracelets, jewels, rings. + + _Math._ Does she receive them? + + _Bar._ She? No, Mathias, no, but sends them back, + And when he comes, she locks herself up fast; + Yet through the keyhole will he talk to her, + While she runs to the window looking out, + When you should come and hale him from the door. + + _Math._ O treacherous Lodowick! + + _Bar._ Even now as I came home, he slipt me in, 270 + And I am sure he is with Abigail. + + _Math._ I'll rouse him thence. + + _Bar._ Not for all Malta, therefore sheathe your sword; + If you love me, no quarrels in my house; + But steal you in, and seem to see him not; + I'll give him such a warning ere he goes + As he shall have small hopes of Abigail. + Away, for here they come. + + _Enter_ LODOWICK _and_ ABIGAIL. + + _Math._ What, hand in hand! I cannot suffer this. + + _Bar._ Mathias, as thou lovest me, not a word. 280 + + _Math._ Well, let it pass, another time shall serve. + [_Exit._ + _Lod._ Barabas, is not that the widow's son? + + _Bar._ I, and take heed, for he hath sworn your death. + + _Lod._ My death? what, is the base-born peasant mad? + + _Bar._ No, no, but happily he stands in fear + Of that which you, I think, ne'er dream upon, + My daughter here, a paltry silly girl. + + _Lod._ Why, loves she Don Mathias? + + _Bar._ Doth she not with her smiling answer you? + + _Abig._ He has my heart; I smile against my will. [_Aside._ 290 + + _Lod._ Barabas, thou know'st I've loved thy daughter long. + + _Bar._ And so has she done you, even from a child. + + _Lod._ And now I can no longer hold my mind. + + _Bar._ Nor I the affection that I bear to you. + + _Lod._ This is thy diamond, tell me shall I have it? + + _Bar._ Win it, and wear it, it is yet unsoiled. + O! but I know your lordship would disdain + To marry with the daughter of a Jew; + And yet I'll give her many a golden cross[75] + With Christian posies round about the ring. 300 + + _Lod._ Tis not thy wealth, but her that I esteem. + Yet crave I thy consent. + + _Bar._ And mine you have, yet let me talk to her.-- + This offspring of Cain, this Jebusite, + That never tasted of the Passover, + Nor e'er shall see the land of Canaan, + Nor our Messias that is yet to come; + This gentle maggot, Lodowick, I mean, + Must be deluded: let him have thy hand, + But keep thy heart till Don Mathias comes. [_Aside._ 310 + + _Abig._ What, shall I be betrothed to Lodowick? + + _Bar._ It's no sin to deceive a Christian; + For they themselves hold it a principle, + Faith is not to be held with heretics; + But all are heretics that are not Jews; + This follows well, and therefore, daughter, fear not. [_Aside._ + I have entreated her, and she will grant. + + _Lod._ Then, gentle Abigail, plight thy faith to me. + + _Abig._ I cannot chuse, seeing my father bids.-- + Nothing but death shall part my love and me. [_Aside._ 320 + + _Lod._ Now have I that for which my soul hath longed. + + _Bar._ So have not I, but yet I hope I shall. [_Aside._ + + _Abig._ O wretched Abigail, what hast thou[76] done? + [_Aside._ + + _Lod._ Why on the sudden is your colour changed? + + _Abig._ I know not, but farewell, I must be gone. + + _Bar._ Stay her, but let her not speak one word more. + + _Lod._ Mute o' the sudden; here's a sudden change. + + _Bar._ O, muse not at it, 'tis the Hebrew's guise, + That maidens new betrothed should weep awhile: + Trouble her not; sweet Lodowick, depart: 330 + She is thy wife, and thou shalt be mine heir. + + _Lod._ O, is't the custom? then I am resolved: + But rather let the brightsome heavens be dim, + And nature's beauty choke with stifling clouds, + Than my fair Abigail should frown on me.-- + There comes the villain, now I'll be revenged. + + _Enter_ MATHIAS. + + _Bar._ Be quiet, Lodowick, it is enough + That I have made thee sure to Abigail. + + _Lod._ Well, let him go. [_Exit._ + + _Bar._ Well, but for me, as you went in at doors 340 + You had been stabbed, but not a word on't now; + Here must no speeches pass, nor swords be drawn. + + _Math._ Suffer me, Barabas, but to follow him. + + _Bar._ No; so shall I, if any hurt be done, + Be made an accessary of your deeds; + Revenge it on him when you meet him next. + + _Math._ For this I'll have his heart. + + _Bar._ Do so; lo here I give thee Abigail. + + _Math._ What greater gift can poor Mathias have? + Shall Lodowick rob me of so fair a love? 350 + My life is not so dear as Abigail. + + _Bar._ My heart misgives me, that, to cross your love, + He's with your mother, therefore after him. + + _Math._ What, is he gone unto my mother? + + _Bar._ Nay, if you will, stay till she comes herself. + + _Math._ I cannot stay; for if my mother come, + She'll die with grief. [_Exit._ + + _Abig._ I cannot take my leave of him for tears: + Father, why have you thus incensed them both? + + _Bar._ What's that to thee? 360 + + _Abig._ I'll make 'em friends again. + + _Bar._ You'll make 'em friends! + Are there not Jews enough in Malta, + But thou must doat upon a Christian? + + _Abig._ I will have Don Mathias, he is my love. + + _Bar._ Yes, you shall have him: go put her in. + + _Itha._ I, I'll put her in. [_Puts her in._ + + _Bar._ Now tell me, Ithamore, how lik'st thou this? + + _Itha._ Faith, master, I think by this + You purchase both their lives; is it not so? 370 + + _Bar._ True; and it shall be cunningly performed. + + _Itha._ O master, that I might have a hand in this. + + _Bar._ I, so thou shalt, 'tis thou must do the deed: + Take this, and bear it to Mathias straight, [_Gives a letter._ + And tell him that it comes from Lodowick. + + _Itha._ 'Tis poisoned, is it not? + + _Bar._ No, no, and yet it might be done that way: + It is a challenge feigned from Lodowick. + + _Itha._ Fear not; I will so set his heart afire, + That he shall verily think it comes from him. 380 + + _Bar._ I cannot choose but like thy readiness: + Yet be not rash, but do it cunningly. + + _Itha._ As I behave myself in this, employ me here-after. + + _Bar._ Away then. [_Exit._ + So, now will I go in to Lodowick, + And, like a cunning spirit, feign some lie, + Till I have set 'em both at enmity. + [_Exit._ + + + + + ACT THE THIRD. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_[77] BELLAMIRA, _a courtesan._ + + _Bell._ Since this town was besieged, my gain grows cold: + The time has been that, but for one bare night, + A hundred ducats have been freely given: + But now against my will I must be chaste; + And yet I know my beauty doth not fail. + From Venice merchants, and from Padua + Were wont to come rare-witted gentlemen, + Scholars I mean, learnèd and liberal; + And now, save Pilia-Borza, comes there none, + And he is very seldom from my house; 10 + And here he comes. + + _Enter_ PILIA-BORZA. + + _Pilia._ Hold thee, wench, there's something for thee + to spend. + + + _Bell._ 'Tis silver. I disdain it. + + _Pilia._ I, but the Jew has gold, + And I will have it, or it shall go hard. + + _Court._ Tell me, how cam'st thou by this? + + _Pilia._ 'Faith, walking the back lanes, through the + gardens, I chanced to cast mine eye up to the Jew's + counting-house, where I saw some bags of money, and in + the night I clambered up with my hooks, and, as I was + taking my choice, I heard a rumbling in the house; so I + took only this, and run my way: but here's the Jew's + man. 24 + + _Bell._ Hide the bag. + + _Enter_ ITHAMORE. + + _Pilia._ Look not towards him, let's away: zoon's, what + a looking thou keep'st; thou'lt betray 's anon. + [_Exeunt_ Courtesan _and_ PILIA-BORZA. + + _Itha_. O the sweetest face that ever I beheld! I know + she is a courtesan by her attire: now would I give a + hundred of the Jew's crowns that I had such a concubine. + Well, 31 + I have delivered the challenge in such sort, + As meet they will, and fighting die; brave sport. + [_Exit._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_ MATHIAS.[78] + + _Math._ This is the place, now Abigail shall see + Whether Mathias holds her dear or no. + + _Enter_ LODOWICK.[79] + + What, dares the villain write in such base terms? + [_Reading a letter._ + + _Lod._ I did it; and revenge it if thou dar'st. + [_They fight._ + _Enter_ BARABAS, _above._[80] + + _Bar._ O! bravely fought; and yet they thrust not home. + Now, Lodowick! now, Mathias! So---- [_Both fall._ + So now they have showed themselves to be tall[81] fellows. + [_Cries within._] Part 'em, part 'em. + _Bar._ I, part 'em now they are dead. Farewell, farewell. + [_Exit._ + _Enter_ Governor _and_ MATHIAS'S Mother. + + _Gov._ What sight is this?--my Lodowick[82] slain! 10 + These arms of mine shall be thy sepulchre.[83] + + _Mother._ Who is this? my son Mathias slain! + + _Gov._ O Lodowick! had'st thou perished by the Turk, + Wretched Ferneze might have 'venged thy death. + + _Mother._ Thy son slew mine, and I'll revenge his death. + + _Gov._ Look, Katherine, look!--thy son gave mine these wounds. + + _Mother._ O leave to grieve me, I am grieved enough. + + _Gov._ O! that my sighs could turn to lively breath; + And these my tears to blood, that he might live. + + _Mother._ Who made them enemies? 20 + + _Gov._ I know not, and that grieves me most of all. + + _Mother._ My son loved thine. + + _Gov._ And so did Lodowick him. + + _Mother._ Lend me that weapon that did kill my son, + And it shall murder me. + + _Gov._ Nay, madam, stay; that weapon was my son's, + And on that rather should Ferneze die. + + _Mother._ Hold, let's inquire the causers of their deaths, + That we may 'venge their blood upon their heads. + + _Gov._ Then take them up, and let them be interred 30 + Within one sacred monument of stone; + Upon which altar[84] I will offer up + My daily sacrifice of sighs and tears, + And with my prayers pierce impartial[85] heavens, + + Till they [reveal] the causers of our smarts, + Which forced their hands divide united hearts: + Come, Katherine, our losses equal are, + Then of true grief let us take equal share. + [_Exeunt with the bodies_. + + + SCENE III. + + _Enter_ ITHAMORE.[86] + + _Itha._ Why, was there ever seen such villainy, + So neatly plotted, and so well performed? + Both held in hand,[87] and flatly both beguiled? + + _Enter_ ABIGAIL. + + _Abig._ Why, how now, Ithamore, why laugh'st thou so? + + _Itha._ O mistress, ha! ha! ha! + + _Abig._ Why, what ail'st thou? + + _Itha._ O my master! + + _Abig._ Ha! + + _Itha._ O mistress! I have the bravest, gravest, secret, + subtle, bottle-nosed knave to my master, that ever gentleman had. 11 + + _Abig._ Say, knave, why rail'st upon my father thus? + + _Itha._ O, my master has the bravest policy. + + _Abig._ Wherein? + + _Itha._ Why, know you not? + + _Abig._ Why, no. + + _Itha._ Know you not of Mathia[s'] and Don Lodowick['s] disaster? + + _Abig._ No, what was it? + + _Itha._ Why, the devil invented a challenge, my master + writ it, and I carried it, first to Lodowick, and _imprimis_ + to Mathia[s]. 22 + And then they met, [and,] as the story says, + In doleful wise they ended both their days. + + _Abig._ And was my father furtherer of their deaths? + + _Itha._ Am I Ithamore? + + _Abig._ Yes. + + _Itha._ So sure did your father write, and I carry the + challenge. + + _Abig._ Well, Ithamore, let me request thee this, 30 + Go to the new-made nunnery, and inquire + For any of the Friars of St. Jaques,[88] + And say, I pray them come and speak with me. + + _Itha._ I pray, mistress, will you answer me but one + question? + + _Abig._ Well, sirrah, what is't? + + _Itha._ A very feeling one; have not the nuns fine sport + with the friars now and then? + + _Abig._ Go to, sirrah sauce, is this your question? get + ye gone. 40 + + _Itha._ I will, forsooth, mistress. [_Exit._ + + _Abig._ Hard-hearted father, unkind Barabas, + Was this the pursuit of thy policy! + To make me show them favour severally, + That by my favour they should both be slain? + Admit thou lov'dst not Lodowick for his sire,[89] + Yet Don Mathias ne'er offended thee: + But thou wert set upon extreme revenge, + Because the Prior[90] dispossessed thee once, + And could'st not 'venge it, but upon his son; 50 + Nor on his son, but by Mathias' means; + Nor on Mathias, but by murdering me. + But I perceive there is no love on earth, + Pity in Jews, or piety in Turks. + But here comes cursed Ithamore, with the friar. + + _Enter_ ITHAMORE _and_ FRIAR JACOMO. + + _F. Jac._ _Virgo, salve._ + + _Itha._ When! duck you![91] + + _Abig._ Welcome, grave friar; Ithamore begone. + [_Exit_ ITHAMORE. + Know, holy sir, I am bold to solicit thee. + + _F. Jac._ Wherein? 60 + + _Abig._ To get me be admitted for a nun. + + _F. Jac._ Why, Abigail, it is not yet long since + That I did labour thy admission, + And then thou did'st not like that holy life. + + _Abig._ Then were my thoughts so frail and unconfirmed, + And I was chained to follies of the world: + But now experience, purchasèd with grief, + Has made me see the difference of things. + My sinful soul, alas, hath paced too long + The fatal labyrinth of misbelief, 70 + Far from the sun that gives eternal life. + + _F. Jac._ Who taught thee this? + + _Abig._ The abbess of the house, + Whose zealous admonition I embrace: + O, therefore, Jacomo, let me be one, + Although unworthy, of that sisterhood. + + _F. Jac._ Abigail, I will, but see thou change no more, + For that will be most heavy to thy soul. + + _Abig._ That was my father's fault. + + _F. Jac._ Thy father's! how? 80 + + _Abig._ Nay, you shall pardon me.--O Barabas, + Though thou deservest hardly at my hands, + Yet never shall these lips bewray thy life. [_Aside._ + + _F. Jac._ Come, shall we go? + + _Abig._ My duty waits on you. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE IV. + + _Enter_[92] BARABAS, _reading a letter._ + + _Bar._ What, Abigail become a nun again! + False and unkind; what, hast thou lost thy father? + And all unknown, and unconstrained of me, + Art thou again got to the nunnery? + Now here she writes, and wills me to repent. + Repentance! _Spurca!_ what pretendeth[93] this? + I fear she knows--'tis so--of my device + In Don Mathias' and Lodovico's deaths: + If so, 'tis time that it be seen into: + For she that varies from me in belief 10 + Gives great presumption that she loves me not; + Or loving, doth dislike of something done. + But who comes here? + + _Enter_ ITHAMORE. + + O Ithamore, come near; + Come near, my love; come near, thy master's life, + My trusty servant, nay, my second self:[94] + For I have now no hope but even in thee: + And on that hope my happiness is built; + When saw'st thou Abigail? + + _Itha._ To-day. + + _Bar._ With whom? 20 + + _Itha._ A friar. + + _Bar._ A friar! false villain, he hath done the deed. + + _Itha._ How, sir? + + _Bar._ Why, made mine Abigail a nun. + + _Itha._ That's no lie, for she sent me for him. + + _Bar._ O unhappy day! + False, credulous, inconstant Abigail! + But let 'em go: and, Ithamore, from hence + Ne'er shall she grieve me more with her disgrace; + Ne'er shall she live to inherit aught of mine, 30 + Be blest of me, nor come within my gates, + But perish underneath my bitter curse, + Like Cain by Adam, for his brother's death. + + _Itha._ O master! + + _Bar._ Ithamore, entreat not for her, I am moved, + And she is hateful to my soul and me: + And 'less[95] thou yield to this that I entreat, + I cannot think but that thou hat'st my life. + + _Itha._ Who, I, master? Why, I'll run to some rock, + And throw myself headlong into the sea; 40 + Why, I'll do anything for your sweet sake. + + _Bar._ O trusty Ithamore, no servant, but my friend: + I here adopt thee for mine only heir, + All that I have is thine when I am dead, + And whilst I live use half; spend as myself; + Here take my keys, I'll give 'em thee anon: + Go buy thee garments: but thou shall not want: + Only know this, that thus thou art to do: + But first go fetch me in the pot of rice + That for our supper stands upon the fire. 50 + + _Itha._ I hold my head my master's hungry. I go, sir. [_Exit._ + + _Bar._ Thus every villain ambles after wealth, + Although he ne'er be richer than in hope: + But, husht! + + _Enter_ ITHAMORE _with the pot._ + + _Itha._ Here 'tis, master. + + _Bar._ Well said, Ithamore; what, hast thou brought + The ladle with thee too? + + _Itha._ Yes, sir, the proverb says he that eats with the + devil had need of a long spoon.[96] I have brought you a + ladle. 60 + + _Bar._ Very well, Ithamore, then now be secret; + And for thy sake, whom I so dearly love, + Now shalt thou see the death of Abigail, + That thou may'st freely live to be my heir. + + _Itha._ Why, master, will you poison her with a mess of + rice porridge? that will preserve life, make her round and + plump, and batten more than you are aware. + + _Bar._ I, but, Ithamore, seest thou this? + It is a precious powder that I bought + Of an Italian, in Ancona, once, 70 + Whose operation is to bind, infect, + And poison deeply, yet not appear + In forty hours after it is ta'en. + + _Itha._ How, master? + + _Bar._ Thus, Ithamore. + This even they use in Malta here,--'tis called + Saint Jacques' Even,--and then I say they use + To send their alms unto the nunneries: + Among the rest bear this, and set it there; + There's a dark entry where they take it in, 80 + Where they must neither see the messenger, + Nor make inquiry who hath sent it them. + + _Itha._ How so? + + _Bar._ Belike there is some ceremony in't. + There, Ithamore, must thou go place this pot![97] + Stay, let me spice it first. + + _Itha._ Pray do, and let me help you, master. Pray let + me taste first. + + _Bar._ Prythee do: what say'st thou now? + + _Itha._ Troth, master, I'm loth such a pot of pottage + should be spoiled. 90 + + _Bar._ Peace, Ithamore, 'tis better so than spared. + Assure thyself thou shalt have broth by the eye.[98] + My purse, my coffer, and myself is thine. + + _Itha._ Well, master, I go. + + _Bar._ Stay, first let me stir it, Ithamore. + As fatal be it to her as the draught + Of which great Alexander drunk and died: + And with her let it work like Borgia's wine, + Whereof his sire, the Pope, was poisoned. + In few,[99] the blood of Hydra, Lerna's bane: 100 + The juice of hebon,[100] and Cocytus' breath, + And all the poisons of the Stygian pool + Break from the fiery kingdom; and in this + Vomit your venom and invenom her + That like a fiend hath left her father thus. + + _Itha._ What a blessing has he given 't! was ever pot of + rice porridge so sauced! What shall I do with it? + + _Bar._ O, my sweet Ithamore, go set it down, + And come again so soon as thou hast done, + For I have other business for thee. 110 + + _Itha._ Here's a drench to poison a whole stable of + Flanders mares: I'll carry 't to the nuns with a powder. + + _Bar._ And the horse pestilence to boot; away. + + _Itha._ I am gone. + Pay me my wages, for my work is done. [_Exit._ + + _Bar._ I'll pay thee with a vengeance, Ithamore. [_Exit._ + + + SCENE V. + + _Enter_[101] Governor, DEL BOSCO, Knights, Basso. + + _Gov._ Welcome, great Basso;[102] how fares Calymath, + What wind thus drives you into Malta Road? + + _Bas._ The wind that bloweth all the world besides, + Desire of gold. + + _Gov._ Desire of gold, great sir? + That's to be gotten in the Western Ind: + In Malta are no golden minerals. + + _Bas._ To you of Malta thus saith Calymath: + The time you took for respite is at hand, + For the performance of your promise passed, + And for the tribute-money I am sent. 10 + + _Gov._ Basso, in brief, 'shalt have no tribute here, + Nor shall the heathens live upon our spoil: + First will we raze the city walls ourselves, + Lay waste the island, hew the temples down, + And, shipping off our goods to Sicily, + Open an entrance for the wasteful sea, + Whose billows beating the resistless banks, + Shall overflow it with their refluence. + + _Bas._ Well, Governor, since thou hast broke the league + By flat denial of the promised tribute, 20 + Talk not of razing down your city walls, + You shall not need trouble yourselves so far, + For Selim Calymath shall come himself, + And with brass bullets batter down your towers, + And turn proud Malta to a wilderness + For these intolerable wrongs of yours; + And so farewell. + + _Gov._ Farewell: + And now, ye men of Malta, look about, + And let's provide to welcome Calymath: 30 + Close your portcullis, charge your basilisks, + And as you profitably take up arms, + So now courageously encounter them; + For by this answer, broken is the league, + And naught is to be looked for now but wars, + And naught to us more welcome is than wars. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE VI. + + _Enter_[103] Friar JACOMO _and_ + Friar BARNARDINE. + + _F. Jac._ O brother, brother, all the nuns are sick, + And physic will not help them: they must die. + + _F. Barn._ The abbess sent for me to be confessed: + O, what a sad confession will there be! + + _F. Jac._ And so did fair Maria send for me: + I'll to her lodging: hereabouts she lies. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ ABIGAIL. + + _F. Barn._ What, all dead, save only Abigail? + + _Abig._ And I shall die too, for I feel death coming. + Where is the friar that conversed with me. + + _F. Barn._ O, he is gone to see the other nuns. 10 + + _Abig._ I sent for him, but seeing you are come, + Be you my ghostly father: and first know, + That in this house I lived religiously, + Chaste, and devout, much sorrowing for my sins, + But ere I came---- + + _F. Barn._ What then? + + _Abig._ I did offend high Heaven so grievously, + As I am almost desperate for my sins: + And one offence torments me more than all. + You knew Mathias and Don Lodowick? 20 + + _F. Barn._ Yes, what of them? + + _Abig._ My father did contract me to 'em both: + First to Don Lodowick; him I never loved; + Mathias was the man that I held dear, + And for his sake did I become a nun. + + _F. Barn._ So, say how was their end? + + _Abig._ Both jealous of my love, envied each other, + And by my father's practice, which is there [_Gives a paper._ + Set down at large, the gallants were both slain. + + _F. Barn._ O monstrous villainy! 30 + + _Abig._ To work my peace, this I confess to thee; + Reveal it not, for then my father dies. + + _F. Barn._ Know that confession must not be revealed, + The canon law forbids it, and the priest + That makes it known, being degraded first, + Shall be condemned, and then sent to the fire. + + _Abig._ So I have heard; pray, therefore keep it close. + Death seizeth on my heart, ah gentle friar! + Convert my father that he may be saved, + And witness that I die a Christian. [_Dies._ 40 + + _F. Barn._ I, and a virgin too; that grieves me most: + But I must to the Jew and exclaim on him, + And make him stand in fear of me. + + _Enter_ Friar JACOMO. + + _F. Jac._ O brother, all the nuns are dead, let's bury them. + + _F. Barn._ First help to bury this, then go with me + And help me to exclaim against the Jew. + + _F. Jac._ Why, what has he done? + + _F. Barn._ A thing that makes me tremble to unfold. + + _F. Jac._ What, has he crucified a child? + + _F. Barn._ No, but a worse thing: 'twas told me in shrift, 50 + Thou know'st 'tis death an if it be revealed. + Come, let's away. + [_Exeunt._ + + + + + ACT THE FOURTH. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_[104] BARABAS and ITHAMORE. _Bells within._ + + _Bar._ There is no music to[105] a Christian's knell: + How sweet the bells ring now the nuns are dead, + That sound at other times like tinkers' pans? + I was afraid the poison had not wrought; + Or, though it wrought, it would have done no good, + For every year they swell, and yet they live; + Now all are dead, not one remains alive. + + _Itha._ That's brave, master, but think you it will not be known? + + _Bar._ How can it, if we two be secret? + + _Itha._ For my part fear you not. 10 + + _Bar._ I'd cut thy throat if I did. + + _Itha._ And reason too. + But here's a royal monastery hard by; + Good master, let me poison all the monks. + + _Bar._ Thou shalt not need, for now the nuns are dead + They'll die with grief. + + _Itha._ Do you not sorrow for your daughter's death? + + _Bar._ No, but I grieve because she lived so long. + An Hebrew born, and would become a Christian! + _Cazzo,[106] diabolo._ 20 + + _Enter the two Friars._ + + _Itha._ Look, look, master, here come two religious + caterpillars. + + _Bar._ I smelt 'em ere they came. + + _Itha._ God-a-mercy, nose; come, let's begone. + + _F. Barn._ Stay, wicked Jew, repent, I say, and stay. + + _F. Jac._ Thou hast offended, therefore must be damned. + + _Bar._ I fear they know we sent the poisoned broth. + + _Itha._ And so do I, master, therefore speak 'em fair. + + _F. Barn._ Barabas, thou hast---- + + _F. Jac._ I, that thou hast---- 30 + + _Bar._ True, I have money, what though I have? + + _F. Barn._ Thou art a---- + + _F. Jac._ I, that thou art a---- + + _Bar._ What needs all this? I know I am a Jew. + + _F. Barn._ Thy daughter---- + + _F. Jac._ I, thy daughter---- + + _Bar._ O speak not of her, then I die with grief. + + _F. Barn._ Remember that---- + + _F. Jac._ I, remember that---- 40 + + _Bar._ I must needs say that I have been a great usurer. + + _F. Barn._ Thou hast committed---- + + _Bar._ Fornication--but that + Was in another country: and besides, + The wench is dead. + + _F. Barn._ I, but, Barabas, + Remember Mathias and Don Lodowick. + + _Bar._ Why, what of them? + + _F. Barn._ I will not say that by a forged challenge they met. + + _Bar._ She has confest, and we are both undone, 50 + My bosom inmate![107] but I must dissemble.-- [_Aside._ + O holy friars, the burthen of my sins + Lie heavy on my soul; then pray you tell me. + Is't not too late now to turn Christian? + I have been zealous in the Jewish faith, + Hard-hearted to the poor, a covetous wretch, + That would for lucre's sake have sold my soul. + A hundred for a hundred I have ta'en; + And now for store of wealth may I compare + With all the Jews in Malta; but what is wealth? 60 + I am a Jew, and therefore am I lost. + Would penance serve for this my sin, + I could afford to whip myself to death-- + + _Itha._ And so could I; but penance will not serve. + + _Bar._ To fast, to pray, and wear a shirt of hair, + And on my knees creep to Jerusalem. + Cellars of wine, and sollers[108] full of wheat, + Warehouses stuft with spices and with drugs, + Whole chests of gold, in bullion, and in coin, + Besides I know not how much weight in pearl, 70 + Orient and round, have I within my house; + At Alexandria, merchandise unsold:[109] + But yesterday two ships went from this town, + Their voyage will be worth ten thousand crowns. + In Florence, Venice, Antwerp, London, Seville, + Frankfort, Lubeck, Moscow, and where not, + Have I debts owing; and in most of these, + Great sums of money lying in the banco; + All this I'll give to some religious house + So I may be baptized, and live therein. 80 + + _F. Jac._ O good Barabas, come to our house. + + _F. Barn._ O no, good Barabas, come to our house; + And, Barabas, you know---- + + _Bar._ I know that I have highly sinned. + You shall convert me, you shall have all my wealth. + + _F. Jac._ O Barabas, their laws are strict. + + _Bar._ I know they are, and I will be with you. + [_To_ F. JAC. + _F. Barn._ They wear no shirts, and they go barefoot too. + + _Bar._ Then 'tis not for me; and I am resolved + [_To_ F. BARN. + You shall confess me, and have all my goods. 90 + + _F. Jac._ Good Barabas, come to me. + + _Bar._ You see I answer him, and yet he stays; + [_To_ F. BARN. + Rid him away, and go you home with me. + + _F. Jac._ I'll be with you to-night. + + _Bar._ Come to my house at one o'clock this night. + [_To_ F. JAC. + _F. Jac._ You hear your answer, and you may be gone. + + _F. Barn._ Why, go get you away. + + _F. Jac._ I will not go for thee. + + _F. Barn._ Not! then I'll make thee go. + + _F. Jac._ How, dost call me rogue? [_They fight._ 100 + + _Itha._ Part 'em, master, part 'em. + + _Bar._ This is mere frailty, brethren, be content. + Friar Barnardine, go you with Ithamore: + You[110] know my mind, let me alone with him. + [_Aside to_ F. BARN. + _F. Jac._ Why does he go to thy house; let him begone. + + _Bar._ I'll give him something and so stop his mouth. + [_Exit_ ITHAMORE with F. BARN. + I never heard of any man but he + Maligned the order of the Jacobins: + But do you think that I believe his words? + Why, brother, you converted Abigail; 110 + And I am bound in charity to requite it, + And so I will. O Jacomo, fail not, but come. + + _F. Jac._ But, Barabas, who shall be your godfathers, + For presently you shall be shrived. + + _Bar._ Marry, the Turk[111] shall be one of my godfathers, + But not a word to any of your covent.[112] + + _F. Jac._ I warrant thee, Barabas. [_Exit._ + + _Bar._ So, now the fear is past, and I am safe: + For he that shrived her is within my house, + What if I murdered him ere Jacomo comes? 120 + Now I have such a plot for both their lives + As never Jew nor Christian knew the like; + One turned my daughter, therefore he shall die; + The other knows enough to have my life, + Therefore 'tis not requisite he should live. + But are not both these wise men to suppose + That I will leave my house, my goods, and all + To fast and be well whipt? I'll none of that. + Now Friar Barnardine I come to you, + I'll feast you, lodge you, give you fair words, 130 + And after that, I and my trusty Turk-- + No more but so: it must and shall be done. [_Exit._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_[113] BARABAS _and_ ITHAMORE. + + _Bar._ Ithamore, tell me, is the friar asleep? + + _Itha._ Yes; and I know not what the reason is, + Do what I can he will not strip himself, + Nor go to bed, but sleeps in his own clothes; + I fear me he mistrusts what we intend. + + _Bar._ No, 'tis an order which the friars use: + Yet, if he knew our meanings, could he 'scape? + + _Itha._ No, none can hear him, cry he ne'er so loud. + + _Bar._ Why true, therefore did I place him there: + The other chambers open towards the street. 10 + + _Itha._ You loiter, master, wherefore stay we thus? + O how I long to see him shake his heels. + + _Bar._ Come on, sirrah. + Off with your girdle, make a handsome noose; + [ITHAMORE _makes a noose in his girdle. They put + it round the_ Friar's _neck._ + Friar, awake! + + _F. Barn._ What, do you mean to strangle me? + + _Itha._ Yes, 'cause you use to confess. + + _Bar._ Blame not us but the proverb, confess and be + hanged; pull hard. + + _F. Barn._ What, will you have[114] my life? 20 + + _Bar._ Pull hard, I say; you would have had my goods. + + _Itha._ I, and our lives too, therefore pull amain. + [_They strangle him._ + 'Tis neatly done, sir, here's no print at all. + + _Bar._ Then it is as it should be; take him up. + + _Itha._ Nay, master, be ruled by me a little[_Stands up the body_]; + so, let him lean upon his staff; excellent! he stands as if he + were begging of bacon. + + _Bar._ Who would not think but that this friar lived? + What time o' night is't now, sweet Ithamore? + + _Itha._ Towards one. 30 + + _Bar._ Then will not Jacomo be long from hence. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE III. + + _Enter_[115] Friar JACOMO. + + _F. Jac._ This is the hour wherein I shall proceed; + O happy hour,[116] wherein I shall convert + An infidel, and bring his gold into our treasury! + But soft, is not this Barnardine? it is; + And, understanding I should come this way, + Stands here a purpose, meaning me some wrong, + And intercept my going to the Jew. + Barnardine! + Wilt thou not speak? thou think'st I see thee not; + Away, I'd wish thee, and let me go by: 10 + No, wilt thou not? nay, then, I'll force my way; + And see, a staff stands ready for the purpose: + As thou lik'st that, stop me another time. + [_Strikes him and he falls._ + + _Enter_ BARABAS _and_ ITHAMORE. + + _Bar._ Why, how now, Jacomo, what hast thou done? + + _F. Jac._ Why, stricken him that would have struck at me. + + _Bar._ Who is it? + Barnardine? now out, alas! he's slain. + + _Itha._ I, master, he's slain; look how his brains drop + out on's nose. + + _F. Jac._ Good sirs, I have done't, but nobody knows it + but you two--I may escape. 21 + + _Bar._ So might my man and I hang with you for + company. + + _Itha._ No, let us bear him to the magistrates. + + _F. Jac._ Good Barabas, let me go. + + _Bar._ No, pardon me; the law must have its course. + I must be forced to give in evidence, + That being importuned by this Barnardine + To be a Christian, I shut him out, + And there he sat: now I, to keep my word, 30 + And give my goods and substance to your house, + Was up thus early; with intent to go + Unto your friary, because you stayed. + + _Itha._ Fie upon 'em, master; will you turn Christian + when holy friars turn devils and murder one another? + + _Bar._ No, for this example I'll remain a Jew: + Heaven bless me; what! a friar a murderer? + When shall you see a Jew commit the like? + + _Itha._ Why, a Turk could ha' done no more. + + _Bar._ To-morrow is the sessions; you shall to it. 40 + Come, Ithamore, let's help to take him hence. + + _F. Jac._ Villains, I am a sacred person; touch me not. + + _Bar._ The law shall touch you, we'll but lead you, we: + 'Las I could weep at your calamity. + Take in the staff too, for that must be shown: + Law wills that each particular be known. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE IV. + + _Enter_[117] BELLAMIRA _and_ PILIA-BORSA. + + _Bell._ Pilia-Borsa, did'st thou meet with Ithamore? + + _Pilia._ I did. + + _Bell._ And didst thou deliver my letter? + + _Pilia._ I did. + + _Bell._ And what think'st thou? will he come? + + _Pilia._ I think so, but yet I cannot tell; for at the + reading of the letter he look'd like a man of another + world. + + _Bell._ Why so? + + _Pilia._ That such a base slave as he should be saluted + by such a tall man as I am, from such a beautiful dame + as you. 12 + + _Bell._ And what said he? + + _Pilia._ Not a wise word, only gave me a nod, as who + should say, "Is it even so;" and so I left him, being + driven to a non-plus at the critical aspect of my terrible + countenance. + + _Bell._ And where didst meet him? + + _Pilia._ Upon mine own freehold, within forty feet of + the gallows, conning his neck-verse,[118] I take it, looking of + a friar's execution, whom I saluted with an old hempen + proverb, _Hodie tibi, cras mihi_, and so I left him to the + mercy of the hangman: but the exercise[119] being done, + see where he comes. 24 + + _Enter_ ITHAMORE. + + _Itha._ I never knew a man take his death so patiently + as this friar; he was ready to leap off ere the halter was + about his neck; and when the hangman had put on his + hempen tippet, he made such haste to his prayers, as if + he had had another cure to serve; well, go whither he + will, I'll be none of his followers in haste: And, now I + think on't, going to the execution, a fellow met me with + a muschatoes[120] like a raven's wing, and a dagger with a + hilt like a warming-pan, and he gave me a letter from one + Madam Bellamira, saluting me in such sort as if he had + meant to make clean my boots with his lips; the effect + was, that I should come to her house. I wonder what the + reason is; it may be she sees more in me than I can find + in myself: for she writes further, that she loves me ever + since she saw me, and who would not requite such love? + Here's her house, and here she comes, and now would I + were gone; I am not worthy to look upon her. 41 + + _Pilia._ This is the gentleman you writ to. + + _Itha._ Gentleman! he flouts me; what gentry can be + in a poor Turk of tenpence?[121] I'll be gone. [_Aside._ + + _Bell._ Is't not a sweet-faced youth, Pilia? + + _Itha._ Again, "sweet youth;" [_Aside_]--did not you, sir, + bring the sweet youth a letter? + + _Pilia._ I did, sir, and from this gentlewoman, who, as + myself, and the rest of the family, stand or fall at your + service. 50 + + _Bell._ Though woman's modesty should hale me back, + I can withhold no longer; welcome, sweet love. + + _Itha._ Now am I clean, or rather foully out of the way. [_Aside._ + _Bell._ Whither so soon? + + _Itha._ I'll go steal some money from my master to make + me handsome [_Aside_]: Pray pardon me, I must go and + see a ship discharged. + + _Bell._ Canst thou be so unkind to leave me thus? + + _Pilia._ And ye did but know how she loves you, sir. + + _Itha._ Nay, I care not how much she loves me. Sweet + Bellamira, would I had my master's wealth for thy sake. + + _Pilia._ And you can have it, sir, an if you please. 62 + + _Itha._ If 'twere above ground I could and would have + it; but he hides and buries it up, as partridges do their + eggs, under the earth. + + _Pilia._ And is't not possible to find it out? + + _Itha._ By no means possible. + + _Bell._ What shall we do with this base villain then? + [_Aside to_ PILIA-BORSA. + _Pilia._ Let me alone; do you but speak him fair: + [_Aside to her._ + But [sir] you know some secrets of the Jew, 70 + Which, if they were revealed, would do him harm. + + _Itha._ I, and such as--Go to, no more. I'll make him + send me half he has, and glad he scapes so too. + [_Pen and ink._[122] + I'll write unto him; we'll have money straight. + + _Pilia._ Send for a hundred crowns at least. + + _Itha._ Ten hundred thousand crowns--_Master Barabas_. + [_Writing_. + _Pilia._ Write not so submissively, but threatening him. + + _Itha._ _Sirrah, Barabas, send me a hundred crowns._ + + _Pilia._ Put in two hundred at least. + + _Itha._ _I charge thee send me three hundred by this bearer, + and this shall be your warrant; if you do not, no more, but so._ 82 + + _Pilia._ Tell him you will confess. + + _Itha._ _Otherwise I'll confess all_--Vanish, and return in + a twinkle. + + _Pilia._ Let me alone; I'll use him in his kind. + [_Exit_ Pilia-Borsa. + _Itha._ Hang him, Jew. + + _Bell._ Now, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap. + Where are my maids? provide a running[123] banquet; + Send to the merchant, bid him bring me silks, 90 + Shall Ithamore, my love, go in such rags? + + _Itha._ And bid the jeweller come hither too. + + _Bell._ I have no husband, sweet; I'll marry thee. + + _Itha._ Content, but we will leave this paltry land, + And sail from hence to Greece, to lovely Greece. + I'll be thy Jason, thou my golden fleece; + Where painted carpets o'er the meads are hurled, + And Bacchus' vineyards overspread the world; + Where woods and forests go in goodly green, + I'll be Adonis, thou shalt be Love's Queen. 100 + The meads, the orchards, and the primrose lanes, + Instead of sedge and reed, bear sugar-canes: + Thou in those groves, by Dis above, + Shalt live with me and be my love. + + _Bell._ Whither will I not go with gentle Ithamore? + + _Enter_ PILIA-BORSA. + + _Itha._ How now! hast thou the gold? + + _Pilia._ Yes. + + _Itha._ But came it freely? did the cow give down her + milk freely? + + _Pilia._ At reading of the letter, he stared and stamped + and turned aside. I took him by the beard,[124] and looked + upon him thus; told him he were best to send it; then + he hugged and embraced me. 113 + + _Itha._ Rather for fear than love. + + _Pilia._ Then, like a Jew, he laughed and jeered, and + told me he loved me for your sake, and said what a faithful + servant you had been. + + _Itha._ The more villain he to keep me thus; here's + goodly 'parel, is there not? + + _Pilia._ To conclude, he gave me ten crowns. 120 + + _Itha._ But ten? I'll not leave him worth a grey groat. + Give me a ream[125] of paper; we'll have a kingdom of gold + for 't. + + _Pilia._ Write for five hundred crowns. + + _Itha._ [_Writing._] _Sirrah, Jew, as you love your life + send me five hundred crowns, and give the bearer one hundred._ + Tell him I must have 't. + + _Pilia._ I warrant your worship shall have 't. + + _Itha._ And if he ask why I demand so much, tell him I + scorn to write a line under a hundred crowns. 130 + + _Pilia._ You'd make a rich poet, sir. I am gone. [_Exit._ + + _Itha._ Take thou the money; spend it for my sake. + + _Bell._ 'Tis not thy money, but thyself I weigh: + Thus Bellamira esteems of gold. [_Throws it on the floor._ + But thus of thee. [_Kisses him._ + + _Itha._ That kiss again; she runs division[126] of my lips. + What an eye she casts on me? It twinkles like a star. + + _Bell._ Come, my dear love, let's in and sleep together. + + _Itha._ O, that ten thousand nights were put in one, + that we might sleep seven years together afore we wake. + + _Bell._ Come, amorous wag, first banquet, and then sleep. 141 + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE V. + + _Enter_[127] BARABAS, _reading a letter._ + + _Bar._ "Barabas, send me three hundred crowns." + Plain Barabas: O, that wicked courtesan! + + He was not wont to call me Barabas. + "Or else I will confess:" I, there it goes: + But if I get him, _coupe de gorge_, for that. + He sent a shaggy tottered[128] staring slave, + That when he speaks draws out his grisly beard, + And winds it twice or thrice about his ear;[129] + Whose face has been a grindstone for men's swords; + His hands are hacked, some fingers cut quite off; 10 + Who, when he speaks, grunts like a hog, and looks + Like one that is employed in catzerie[130] + And crossbiting,[131]--such a rogue + As is the husband to a hundred whores: + And I by him must send three hundred crowns! + Well, my hope is, he will not stay there still; + And when he comes: O, that he were but here! + + _Enter_ PILIA-BORSA. + + _Pilia._ Jew, I must have more gold. + + _Bar._ Why, want'st thou any of thy tale? + + _Pilia._ No; but three hundred will not serve his turn. 20 + + _Bar._ Not serve his turn, sir? + + _Pilia._ No, sir; and, therefore, I must have five hundred more. + + _Bar._ I'll rather---- + + _Pilia._ O good words, sir, and send it you were best; + see, there's his letter. [_Gives letter._ + + _Bar._ Might he not as well come as send; pray bid + him come and fetch it; what he writes for you, ye shall + have straight. + + _Pilia._ I, and the rest too, or else---- 30 + + _Bar._ I must make this villain away. [_Aside._ + Please you dine with me, sir;--and you shall be most + heartily poisoned. [_Aside._ + + _Pilia._ No, God-a-mercy. Shall I have these crowns? + + _Bar._ I cannot do it, I have lost my keys. + + _Pilia._ O, if that be all, I can pick ope your locks. + + _Bar._ Or climb up to my counting-house window: + you know my meaning. + + _Pilia._ I know enough, and therefore talk not to me + of your counting-house. The gold, or know, Jew, it is in + my power to hang thee. 41 + + _Bar._ I am betrayed. [_Aside._ + 'Tis not five hundred crowns that I esteem, + I am not moved at that: this angers me, + That he who knows I love him as myself, + Should write in this imperious vein. Why, sir, + You know I have no child, and unto whom + Should I leave all but unto Ithamore? + + _Pilia._ Here's many words, but no crowns: the crowns! + + _Bar._ Commend me to him, sir, most humbly, 50 + And unto your good mistress, as unknown. + + _Pilia._ Speak, shall I have 'em, sir? + + _Bar._ Sir, here they are. + O, that I should part with so much gold! [_Aside._ + Here, take 'em, fellow, with as good a will---- + As I would see thee hang'd [_Aside_]; O, love stops my breath: + Never loved man servant as I do Ithamore. + + _Pilia._ I know it, sir. + + _Bar._ Pray, when, sir, shall I see you at my house? + + _Pilia._ Soon enough, to your cost, sir. Fare you well. 60 + [_Exit._ + _Bar._ Nay, to thine own cost, villain, if thou com'st. + Was ever Jew tormented as I am? + To have a shag-rag knave to come,-- + Three hundred crowns,--and then five hundred crowns! + Well, I must seek a means to rid 'em all, + And presently; for in his villainy + He will tell all he knows, and I shall die for it. + I have it: + I will in some disguise go see the slave, + And how the villain revels with my gold. 70 + [_Exit._ + + + SCENE VI. + + _Enter_[132] BELLAMIRA, ITHAMORE, + _and_ PILIA-BORSA. + + _Bell._. I'll pledge thee, love, and therefore drink it off. + + + _Itha._ Say'st thou me so? have at it; and do you hear? + [_Whispers._ + _Bell._ Go to, it shall be so. + + _Itha._ Of that condition I will drink it up. + Here's to thee. + + _Bell._[133] Nay, I'll have all or none. + + _Itha._ There, if thou lov'st me do not leave a drop. + + _Bell._ Love thee! fill me three glasses. + + _Itha._ Three and fifty dozen, I'll pledge thee. + + _Pilia._ Knavely spoke, and like a knight at arms. + + _Itha._ Hey, _Rivo[134] Castiliano_! a man's a man. 10 + + _Bell._ Now to the Jew. + + _Itha._ Ha! to the Jew, and send me money he were best. + + _Pilia._ What would'st thou do if he should send thee none? + + _Itha._ Do nothing; but I know what I know; he's a murderer. + + _Bell._ I had not thought he had been so brave a man. + + _Itha._ You knew Mathias and the Governor's son; he + and I killed 'em both, and yet never touched 'em. + + _Pilia._ O, bravely done. + + _Itha._ I carried the broth that poisoned the nuns; and + he and I, snickle hand too fast,[135] strangled a friar. 20 + + _Bell._ You two alone! + + _Itha._ We two, and 'twas never known, nor never shall be for me. + + _Pilia._ This shall with me unto the Governor. + [_Aside to_ BELLAMIRA. + _Bell._ And fit it should: but first let's ha' more gold. + [_Aside._ + Come, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap. + + _Itha._ Love me little, love me long; let music rumble + Whilst I in thy incony[136] lap do tumble. + + _Enter_ BARABAS, _with a lute, disguised._ + + _Bell._ A French musician; come, let's hear your skill? + + _Bar._ Must tuna my lute for sound, _twang_, _twang_ + first. 31 + + _Itha._ Wilt drink, Frenchman? here's to thee with + a----Pox on this drunken hiccup! + + _Bar._ Gramercy, monsieur. + + _Bell._ Prythee, Pilia-Borsa, bid the fiddler give me + the posy in his hat there. + + _Pilia._ Sirrah, you must give my mistress your posy. + + _Bar._ _A votre commandment, madame._ + + _Bell._ How sweet, my Ithamore, the flowers smell. + + _Itha._ Like thy breath, sweetheart, no violet like 'em. 40 + + _Pilia._ Foh! methinks they stink like a hollyhock. + + _Bar._ So, now I am revenged upon 'em all. + The scent thereof was death; I poisoned it. [_Aside._ + + _Itha._ Play, fiddler, or I'll cut your cat's guts into + chitterlings. + + _Bar. Pardonnez moi_, be no in tune yet; so now, now all be in. + + _Itha._ Give him a crown, and fill me out more wine. + + _Pilia._ There's two crowns for thee, play. + + _Bar._ How liberally the villain gives me mine own gold. + [_Aside._ 51 + + _Pilia._ Methinks he fingers very well. + + _Bar._ So did you when you stole my gold. [_Aside._ + + _Pilia._ How swift he runs. + + _Bar._ You ran swifter when you threw my gold out of + my window. [_Aside._ + + _Bell._ Musician, hast been in Malta long? + + _Bar._ Two, three, four month, madam. + + _Itha._ Dost not know a Jew, one Barabas? + + _Bar._ Very mush; monsieur, you no be his man? 60 + + _Pilia._ His man? + + _Itha._ I scorn the peasant; tell him so. + + _Bar._ He knows it already. [_Aside._ + + _Itha._ 'Tis a strange thing of that Jew, he lives upon + pickled grasshoppers and sauced mushrooms. + + _Bar._ What a slave's this? the Governor feeds not as + I do. [_Aside._ + + _Itha._ He never put on clean shirt since he was circumcised. + + _Bar._ O rascal! I change myself twice a day. [_Aside._ 70 + + _Itha._ The hat he wears, Judas left under the elder[137] + when he hanged himself. + + _Bar._ 'Twas sent me for a present from the great Cham. [_Aside._ + + _Pilia._ A musty[138] slave he is; whither now, fiddler? + + _Bar._ _Pardonnez moi, monsieur_, me[139] be no well. [_Exit._ + + _Pilia._ Farewell, fiddler: one letter more to the Jew. + + _Bell._ Prythee, sweet love, one more, and write it sharp. + + _Itha._ No, I'll send by word of mouth now; bid him + deliver thee a thousand crowns, by the same token, that + the nuns loved rice,--that Friar Barnardine slept in his + own clothes; any of 'em will do it. 81 + + _Pilia._ Let me alone to urge it, now I know the meaning. + + _Itha._ The meaning has a meaning; come let's in: + To undo a Jew is charity, and not sin. + [_Exeunt._ + + + + + ACT THE FIFTH. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_[140] Governor, Knights, _and_ MARTIN DEL BOSCO. + + _Gov._ Now, gentlemen, betake you to your arms, + And see that Malta be well fortified; + And it behoves you to be resolute; + For Calymath, having hovered here so long, + Will win the town or die before the walls. + + _Knights._ And die he shall, for we will never yield. + + _Enter_ BELLAMIRA _and_ PILIA-BORSA. + + _Bell._ O, bring us to the Governor. + + _Gov._ Away with her; she is a courtesan. + + _Bell._ Whate'er I am, yet, Governor, hear me speak; + I bring thee news by whom thy son was slain: 10 + Mathias did it not; it was the Jew. + + _Pilia._ Who, besides the slaughter of these gentlemen, + Poisoned his own daughter and the nuns, + Strangled a friar, and I know not what + Mischief besides. + + _Gov._ Had we but proof of this---- + + _Bell._ Strong proof, my lord; his man's now at my lodging, + That was his agent; he'll confess it all. + + _Gov._ Go fetch him straight [_Exeunt_ Officers]; + I always feared that Jew. 20 + + _Enter_ Officers _with_ BARABAS _and_ ITHAMORE. + + _Bar._ I'll go alone; dogs, do not hale me thus. + + _Itha._ Nor me neither, I cannot outrun you, constable: + O my belly! + + _Bar._ One dram of powder more had made all sure; + What a damned slave was I! [_Aside._ + + _Gov._ Make fires, heat irons, let the rack be fetched. + + _Knights._ Nay, stay, my lord, 't may be he will confess? + + _Bar._ Confess! what mean you, lords, who should confess? + + _Gov._ Thou and thy Turk; 'twas you that slew my son. + + _Itha._ Guilty, my lord, I confess: your son and Mathias + were both contracted unto Abigail; [he] forged a counterfeit + challenge. 31 + + _Bar._ Who carried that challenge? + + _Itha._ I carried it, I confess; but who writ it? Marry, + even he that strangled Barnardine, poisoned the nuns, + and his own daughter. + + _Gov._ Away with him, his sight is death to me. + + _Bar._ For what, you men of Malta? hear me speak: + She is a courtesan, and he a thief, + And he my bondman. Let me have law, + For none of this can prejudice my life. 40 + + _Gov._ Once more, away with him; you shall have law. + + _Bar._ Devils, do your worst, I live in spite of you. [_Aside._ + As these have spoke, so be it to their souls!-- + I hope the poisoned flowers will work anon. [_Aside._ + [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter the_ Mother _of_ MATHIAS. + + _Mother._ Was my Mathias murdered by the Jew? + Ferneze, 'twas thy son that murdered him. + + _Gov._ Be patient, gentle madam, it was he. + He forged the daring challenge made them fight. + + _Mother._ Where is the Jew? where is that murderer? + + _Gov._ In prison till the law has past on him. 50 + + _Enter_ Officer. + + _Off._ My lord, the courtesan and her man are dead: + So is the Turk and Barabas the Jew. + + _Gov._ Dead! + + _Off._ Dead, my lord, and here they bring his body. + + _Bosco._ This sudden death of his is very strange. + + _Re-enter_ Officers _carrying_ BARABAS _as dead._ + + _Gov._ Wonder not at it, sir, the heavens are just; + Their deaths were like their lives, then think not of 'em; + Since they are dead, let them be buried. + For the Jew's body, throw that o'er the walls, + To be a prey for vultures and wild beasts. 60 + So now away, and fortify the town. + [_Exeunt all, leaving_ BARABAS _on the floor._[141] + + _Bar._ [_Rising._] What, all alone? well fare, sleepy drink. + I'll be revenged on this accursèd town; + For by my means Calymath shall enter in. + I'll help to slay their children and their wives, + To fire the churches, pull their houses down, + Take my goods too, and seize upon my lands: + I hope to see the Governor a slave, + And, rowing in a galley, whipt to death. + + _Enter_ CALYMATH, Bassoes, _and_ Turks. + + _Caly._ Whom have we here, a spy? 70 + + _Bar._ Yes, my good lord, one that can spy a place + Where you may enter, and surprise the town: + My name is Barabas: I am a Jew. + + _Caly._ Art thou that Jew whose goods we heard were sold + For tribute-money? + + _Bar._ The very same, my lord: + And since that time they have hired a slave, my man, + To accuse me of a thousand villanies: + I was imprisoned, but escaped their hands. + + _Caly._ Did'st break prison? 80 + + _Bar._ No, no; + I drank of poppy and cold mandrake juice:[142] + And being asleep, belike they thought me dead, + And threw me o'er the walls: so, or how else, + The Jew is here, and rests at your command. + + _Caly._ 'Twas bravely done: but tell me, Barabas, + Canst thou, as thou report'st, make Malta ours? + + _Bar._ Fear not, my lord, for here against the sluice,[143] + The rock is hollow, and of purpose digged, + To make a passage for the running streams 90 + And common channels of the city. + Now, whilst you give assault unto the walls, + I'll lead five hundred soldiers through the vault, + And rise with them i' the middle of the town, + Open the gates for you to enter in, + And by this means the city is your own. + + _Caly._ If this be true, I'll make thee governor. + + _Bar._ And if it be not true, then let me die. + + _Caly._ Thou'st doomed thyself. Assault it presently. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Alarms. Enter_[144] Turks, BARABAS, _&c._; + Governor _and_ Knights _prisoners._ + + _Caly._ Now vail[145] your pride, you captive Christians, + And kneel for mercy to your conquering foe: + Now where's the hope you had of haughty Spain? + + Ferneze, speak, had it not been much better + T'have[146] kept thy promise than be thus surprised? + + _Gov._ What should I say? We are captives and must yield. + + _Caly._ I, villains, you must yield, and under Turkish yokes + Shall groaning bear the burden of our ire; + And, Barabas, as erst we promised thee, + For thy desert we make thee governor; 10 + Use them at thy discretion. + + _Bar._ Thanks, my lord. + + _Gov._ O fatal day, to fall into the hand + Of such a traitor and unhallowed Jew! + What greater misery could Heaven inflict? + + _Caly._ 'Tis our command: and, Barabas, we give + To guard thy person these our Janizaries: + Intreat them well, as we have usèd thee. + And now, brave bassoes, come, we'll walk about + The ruined town, and see the wreck we made: 20 + Farewell, brave Jew; farewell, great Barabas! + [_Exeunt_ CALYMATH _and_ Bassoes. + _Bar._ May all good fortune follow Calymath. + And now, as entrance to our safety, + To prison with the Governor and these + Captains, his consorts and confederates. + + _Gov._ O villain, Heaven will be revenged on thee. [_Exeunt._ + + _Bar._ Away, no more, let him not trouble me. + Thus[147] hast thou gotten, by thy policy, + No simple place, no small authority, + I now am governor of Malta; true, 30 + But Malta hates me, and in hating me + My life's in danger, and what boots it thee, + Poor Barabas, to be the governor, + Whenas thy life shall be at their command? + No, Barabas, this must be looked into; + And since by wrong thou got'st authority, + Maintain it bravely by firm policy. + At least unprofitably lose it not: + For he that liveth in authority, + And neither gets him friends, nor fills his bags, 40 + Lives like the ass that Æsop speaketh of, + That labours with a load of bread and wine, + And leaves it off to snap on thistle tops: + But Barabas will be more circumspect. + Begin betimes; occasion's bald behind, + Slip not thine opportunity, for fear too late + Thou seek'st for much, but canst not compass it. + Within here! + + _Enter_ Governor, _with a_ Guard. + + _Gov._ My lord? + + _Bar._ I, _lord_; thus slaves will learn. 50 + Now, Governor, stand by there:--wait within. [_Exit_ Guard. + This is the reason that I sent for thee; + Thou seest thy life and Malta's happiness + Are at my arbitrement; and Barabas + At his discretion may dispose of both: + Now tell me, Governor, and plainly too, + What think'st thou shall become of it and thee? + + _Gov._ This, Barabas; since things are in thy power, + I see no reason but of Malta's wreck, + Nor hope of thee but extreme cruelty; 60 + Nor fear I death, nor will I flatter thee. + + _Bar._ Governor, good words; be not so furious. + 'Tis not thy life which can avail me aught, + Yet you do live, and live for me you shall: + And, as for Malta's ruin, think you not + 'Twere slender policy for Barabas + To dispossess himself of such a place? + For sith, as once you said, 'tis in this isle, + In Malta here, that I have got my goods, + And in this city still have had success, 70 + And now at length am grown your governor, + Yourselves shall see it shall not be forgot: + For as a friend not known, but in distress, + I'll rear up Malta, now remediless. + + _Gov._ Will Barabas recover Malta's loss? + Will Barabas be good to Christians? + + _Bar._ What wilt thou give me, Governor, to procure + A dissolution of the slavish bands + Wherein the Turk hath yoked your lands and you? + What will you give me if I render you 80 + The life of Calymath, surprise his men + And in an outhouse of the city shut + His soldiers, till I have consumed 'em all with fire? + What will you give him that procureth this? + + _Gov._ Do but bring this to pass which thou pretend'st,[148] + Deal truly with us as thou intimatest, + And I will send amongst the citizens; + And by my letters privately procure + Great sums of money for thy recompense: + Nay more, do this, and live thou governor still. 90 + + _Bar._ Nay, do thou this, Ferneze, and be free; + Governor, I enlarge thee; live with me, + Go walk about the city, see thy friends: + Tush, send not letters to 'em, go thyself, + And let me see what money thou canst make; + Here is my hand that I'll set Malta free: + And thus we cast it: To a solemn feast + I will invite young Selim Calymath, + Where be thou present only to perform + One stratagem that I'll impart to thee, 100 + Wherein no danger shall betide thy life, + And I will warrant Malta free for ever. + + _Gov._ Here is my hand, believe me, Barabas, + I will be there, and do as thou desirest; + When is the time? + + _Bar._ Governor, presently. + For Calymath, when he hath viewed the town, + Will take his leave and sail towards Ottoman. + + _Gov._ Then will I, Barabas, about this coin, + And bring it with me to thee in the evening. 110 + + _Bar._ Do so, but fail not; now farewell, Ferneze: + [_Exit_ Governor. + And thus far roundly goes the business: + Thus loving neither, will I live with both, + Making a profit of my policy; + And he from whom my most advantage comes + Shall be my friend. + This is the life we Jews are used to lead; + And reason too, for Christians do the like. + Well, now about effecting this device: + First to surprise great Selim's soldiers, 120 + And then to make provision for the feast, + That at one instant all things may be done: + My policy detests prevention: + To what event my secret purpose drives, + I know; and they shall witness with their lives. + [_Exit._ + + + SCENE III. + + _Enter_ CALYMATH _and_ Bassoes. + + _Caly._ Thus have we viewed the city, seen the sack, + And caused the ruins to be new repaired, + Which with our bombards'[149] shot and basilisk[s][150] + We rent in sunder at our entry: + And now I see the situation, + And how secure this conquered island stands + Environed with the Mediterranean sea, + Strong countermined with other petty isles; + + And,[151] toward Calabria, backed by Sicily, + (Where Syracusian Dionysius reigned,) 10 + Two lofty turrets that command the town; + I wonder how it could be conquered thus? + + _Enter a_ Messenger. + + _Mess._ From Barabas, Malta's governor. I bring + A message unto mighty Calymath; + Hearing his sovereign was bound for sea, + To sail to Turkey, to great Ottoman, + He humbly would entreat your majesty + To come and see his homely citadel, + And banquet with him ere thou leav'st the isle. + + _Caly._ To banquet with him in his citadel? 20 + I fear me, messenger, to feast my train + Within a town of war so lately pillaged, + Will be too costly and too troublesome: + Yet would I gladly visit Barabas, + For well has Barabas deserved of us. + + _Mess._ Selim, for that, thus saith the Governor, + That he hath in [his] store a pearl so big, + So precious, and withal so orient, + As, be it valued but indifferently, + The price thereof will serve to entertain 30 + Selim and all his soldiers for a month; + Therefore he humbly would entreat your highness + Not to depart till he has feasted you. + + _Caly._ I cannot feast my men in Malta walls, + Except he place his tables in the streets. + + _Mess._ Know, Selim, that there is a monastery + Which standeth as an outhouse to the town: + There will he banquet them, but thee at home, + With all thy bassoes and brave followers. + + _Caly._ Well, tell the Governor we grant his suit, 40 + We'll in this summer evening feast with him. + + _Mess._ I shall, my lord. [_Exit._ + + _Caly._ And now, bold bassoes, let us to our tents, + And meditate how we may grace us best + To solemise our Governor's great feast. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE IV. + + _Enter_[152] Governor, Knights, _and_ DEL BOSCO. + + _Gov._ In this, my countrymen, be ruled by me, + Have special care that no man sally forth + Till you shall hear a culverin discharged + By him that bears the linstock,[153] kindled thus; + Then issue out and come to rescue me, + For happily I shall be in distress, + Or you released of this servitude. + + _Knight._ Rather than thus to live as Turkish thralls + What will we not adventure? + + _Gov._ On then, begone. + + _Knight_. Farewell, grave Governor! [_Exeunt._ 11 + + + SCENE V. + + _Enter,_[154] _above,_ BARABAS, _with a hammer, very busy; + and_ Carpenters. + + _Bar._ How stand the cords? How hang these hinges? fast? + Are all the cranes and pulleys sure? + + _First Carp._[155] All fast. + + _Bar._ Leave nothing loose, all levelled to my mind. + Why now I see that you have art indeed. + There, carpenters, divide that gold amongst you: + Go swill in bowls of sack and muscadine! + Down to the cellar, taste of all my wines. + + _Carp._ We shall, my lord, and thank you. [_Exeunt._ + + _Bar._ And, if you like them, drink your fill and die: 10 + For so I live, perish may all the world. + Now Selim Calymath return me word + That thou wilt come, and I am satisfied. + Now, sirrah, what, will he come? + + _Enter_ Messenger. + + _Mess._ He will; and has commanded all his men + To come ashore, and march through Malta streets, + That thou mayest feast them in thy citadel. + + _Bar._ Then now are all things as my wish would have 'em, + There wanteth nothing but the Governor's pelf, + And see, he brings it. 20 + + _Enter_ Governor. + + Now, Governor, the sum. + + _Gov._ With free consent, a hundred thousand pounds. + + _Bar._ Pounds say'st thou, Governor? well, since it is no more, + I'll satisfy myself with that; nay, keep it still, + For if I keep not promise, trust not me. + And, Governor, now take my policy: + First, for his army, they are sent before, + Entered the monastery, and underneath + In several places are field-pieces pitched, + Bombards, whole barrels full of gunpowder, 30 + That on the sudden shall dissever it, + And batter all the stones about their ears, + Whence none can possibly escape alive: + Now as for Calymath and his consorts, + Here have I made a dainty gallery, + The floor whereof, this cable being cut, + Doth fall asunder; so that it doth sink + Into a deep pit past recovery. + Here, hold that knife, and when thou seest he comes, + And with his bassoes shall be blithely set, 40 + A warning-piece shall be shot off from the tower, + To give thee knowledge when to cut the cord + And fire the house; say, will not this be brave? + + _Gov._ O excellent! here, hold thee, Barabas, + I trust thy word, take what I promised thee. + + _Bar._ No, Governor, I'll satisfy thee first, + Thou shalt not live in doubt of anything. + Stand close, for here they come [Governor _retires_]. + Why, is not this + A kingly kind of trade to purchase towns + By treachery and sell 'em by deceit? 50 + Now tell me, worldlings, underneath the sun[156] + If greater falsehood ever has been done? + + _Enter_ CALYMATH _and_ Bassoes. + + _Caly._ Come, my companion bassoes; see, I pray, + How busy Barabas is there above + To entertain us in his gallery; + Let us salute him. Save thee, Barabas! + + _Bar._ Welcome, great Calymath! + + _Gov._ How the slave jeers at him. [_Aside._ + + _Bar._ Will 't please thee, mighty Selim Calymath, + To ascend our homely stairs? 60 + + _Caly._ I, Barabas; + Come, bassoes, attend.[157] + + _Gov._ Stay, Calymath! + For I will show thee greater courtesy + Than Barabas would have afforded thee. + + _Knight [within_]. Sound a charge there! + + [_A charge; the cable cut._ BARABAS _falls into a + caldron. Enter_ MARTIN DEL BOSCO _and_ Knights.[158] + + _Caly._ How now, what means this! + + _Bar._ Help, help me, Christians, help. + + _Gov._ See, Calymath, this was devised for thee. + + _Caly._ Treason! treason! bassoes, fly! 70 + + _Gov._ No, Selim, do not fly; + See his end first, and fly then if thou canst. + + _Bar._ O help me, Selim, help me, Christians! + Governor, why stand you all so pitiless? + + _Gov._ Should I in pity of thy plaints or thee, + Accursèd Barabas, base Jew, relent? + No, thus I'll see thy treachery repaid, + But wish thou hadst behaved thee otherwise. + + _Bar._ You will not help me, then? + + _Gov._ No, villain, no. 80 + + _Bar._ And, villains, know you cannot help me now-- + Then, Barabas, breathe forth thy latest hate,[159] + And in the fury of thy torments strive + To end thy life with resolution; + Know, Governor, 'twas I that slew thy son; + I framed the challenge that did make them meet: + Know, Calymath, I aimed thy overthrow, + And had I but escaped this stratagem, + I would have brought confusion on you all, + Damned Christians! dogs! and Turkish infidels! 90 + But now begins the extremity of heat + To pinch me with intolerable pangs: + Die life, fly soul, tongue curse thy fill, and die! [_Dies._ + + _Caly._ Tell me, you Christians, what doth this portend? + + _Gov._ This train he laid to have entrapped thy life; + Now, Selim, note the unhallowed deeds of Jews: + Thus he determined to have handled thee, + But I have rather chose to save thy life. + + _Caly._ Was this the banquet he prepared for us? + Let's hence, lest further mischief be pretended.[160] 100 + + _Gov._ Nay, Selim, stay, for since we have thee here, + We will not let thee part so suddenly; + Besides, if we should let thee go, all's one, + For with thy galleys could'st thou not get hence, + Without fresh men to rig and furnish them. + + _Caly._ Tush, Governor, take thou no care for that, + My men are all aboard. + And do attend my coming there by this. + + _Gov._ Why, heard'st thou not the trumpet sound a charge? + + _Caly._ Yes, what of that? 110 + + _Gov._ Why then the house was fired, + Blown up, and all thy soldiers massacred. + + _Caly._ O monstrous treason! + + _Gov._ A Jew's courtesy: + For he that did by treason work our fall, + By treason hath delivered thee to us: + Know, therefore, till thy father hath made good + The ruins done to Malta and to us, + Thou canst not part: for Malta shall be freed, + Or Selim ne'er return to Ottoman. 120 + + _Caly._ Nay, rather, Christians, let me go to Turkey, + In person there to mediate[161] your peace; + To keep me here will not advantage you. + + _Gov._ Content thee, Calymath, here thou must stay, + And live in Malta prisoner; for come all[162] the world + To rescue thee, so will we guard us now, + As sooner shall they drink the ocean dry + Than conquer Malta, or endanger us. + So march away, and let due praise be given + Neither to fate nor fortune, but to Heaven. + [_Exeunt._ + + + + + EDWARD THE SECOND. + + +_Edward II._ was entered in the Stationers' Books 6th July 1593. In the +Dyce Library at South Kensington there is a 4to. with a MS. title-page +(in a hand of the late seventeenth century) dated 1593. Without doubt +the date 1593 is a copyist's mistake for 1598. In the first leaf, which +is in MS., there are a few textual differences, due to the copyist's +carelessness; but the printed matter throughout (A. 3--K. 2) exhibits +the text of ed. 1598. + +In 1876 an edition of _Edward II._ in 8vo., dated 1594, was discovered +in the library at Cassel. The title is:--_The troublesome raigne and +lamentable death of Edward the second, King of England: with the +tragicall fall of proud Mortimer. As it was sundrie times publiquely +acted in the honourable citie of London, by the right honourable the +Earl of Pembroke his servants. Written by Chri. Marlow Gent. Imprinted +at London for William Jones, dwelling neare Holborne conduit at the +Signe of the Gunne, 1594._ + +The title of the 4to. of 1598 runs as follows:--_The troublesome raigne +and lamentable death of Edward the second, King of England: with the +tragicall fall of proud Mortimer: And also the life and death of Peirs +Gaueston, the great Earle of Cornewall, and mighty favorite of king +Edward the second, as it was publiquely acted by the right honorable the +Earle of Pembrooke his seruauntes. Written by Chri. Marlow Gent. +Imprinted at London by Richard Bradocke, for William Jones, dwelling +neere Holbourne conduit, at the signe of the Gunne, 1598._ + +Another edition (in 4to.) appeared in 1612, with the following +title:--_The troublesome raigne and lamentable death of Edward the +second, King of England: with the tragicall fall of proud Mortimer. And +also the life and death of Peirs Gaueston, the great Earle of Cornewall, +and mighty fauorite of King Edward the second, as it was publiquely +acted by the right honorable the Earle of Pembrooke his seruants. +Written by Christopher Marlow Gent. Printed at London for Roger Barnes, +and are to be sould at his shop in Chauncerie Lane ouer against the +Rolles, 1612._ + +The last of the old editions is dated 1622:--_The troublesome raigne and +lamentable death of Edward the second, King of England: with the +tragicall fall of proud Mortimer. And also the life and death of Peirs +Gauestone, the great Earle of Cornewall, and mighty Fauorite of King +Edward the second. As it was publikely Acted by the late Queenes +Maiesties Seruants at the Red Bull in S. Johns streete. Written by +Christopher Marlow Gent. London, Printed for Henry Bell, and are to be +sold at his Shop at the Lame-hospitall Gate, neere Smithfield, 1622._ + +The text of the 1598 4to., which is fairly free from corruptions, +differs but slightly from the texts of the two later 4tos. I have not +had an opportunity of inspecting the 8vo. of 1594; but I suspect that it +agrees very closely with the later copies. + + + _PERSONS REPRESENTED._ + + EDWARD II. + PRINCE EDWARD, _his son, afterwards_ Edward III. + GAVESTON. + OLD SPENCER. + YOUNG SPENCER. + EARL MORTIMER. + YOUNG MORTIMER. + BERKELEY. + LANCASTER. + LEICESTER. + EDMUND, _Earl of Kent._ + ARUNDEL. + WARWICK. + PEMBROKE. + ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. + BISHOP OF WINCHESTER. + BISHOP OF COVENTRY. + BEAUMONT. + TRUSSEL. + Sir JOHN HAINAULT. + LEVUNE. + BALDOCK. + MATREVIS. + GURNEY. + RICE AP HOWEL. + LIGHTBORN. + Abbot. + Lords, Messengers, Monks, James, &c., &c. + + QUEEN ISABELLA. + Niece _to_ Edward II. + Ladies. + + + + + EDWARD THE SECOND. + + + + + ACT THE FIRST. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_[163] GAVESTON, _reading a letter + from the_ King. + + _Gav. My father is deceased! Come, Gaveston, + And share the kingdom with thy dearest friend._ + Ah! words that make me surfeit with delight! + What greater bliss can hap to Gaveston + Than live and be the favourite of a king! + Sweet prince, I come; these, these thy amorous lines + Might have enforced me to have swum from France, + And, like Leander, gasped upon the sand, + So thou would'st smile, and take me in thine arms. + The sight of London to my exiled eyes 10 + Is as Elysium to a new-come soul; + Not that I love the city, or the men, + But that it harbours him I hold so dear-- + The king, upon whose bosom let me die,[164] + And with the world be still at enmity. + What need the arctic people love starlight, + To whom the sun shines both by day and night? + Farewell base stooping to the lordly peers! + My knee shall bow to none but to the king. + As for the multitude, that are but sparks, 20 + Raked up in embers of their poverty;-- + _Tanti_;[165] I'll fawn[166] first on the wind + That glanceth at my lips, and flieth away. + But how now, what are these? + + _Enter three poor_ Men. + + _Men._ Such as desire your worship's service. + + _Gav._ What canst thou do? + + _1 Man._ I can ride. + + _Gav._ But I have no horse. What art thou? + + _2 Man._ A traveller. + + _Gav._ Let me see--thou would'st do well + To wait at my trencher and tell me lies at dinner-time; 30 + And as I like your discoursing, I'll have you. + And what art thou? + + _3 Man._ A soldier, that hath served against the Scot. + + _Gav._ Why, there are hospitals for such as you; + I have no war, and therefore, sir, begone. + + _3 Man._ Farewell, and perish by a soldier's hand, + That would'st reward them with an hospital. + + _Gav._ I, I, these words of his move me as much + As if a goose would play the porcupine, + And dart her plumes,[167] thinking to pierce my breast. 40 + But yet it is no pain to speak men fair; + I'll flatter these, and make them live in hope. [_Aside._ + You know that I came lately out of France, + And yet I have not viewed my lord the king; + If I speed well, I'll entertain you all. + + _Omnes._ We thank your worship. + + _Gav._ I have some business. Leave me to myself. + + _Omnes._ We will wait here about the court. [_Exeunt._ + + _Gav._ Do; these are not men for me; + I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits, 50 + Musicians, that with touching of a string + May draw the pliant king which way I please. + Music and poetry is his delight; + Therefore I'll have Italian masks by night, + Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows; + And in the day, when he shall walk abroad, + Like silvian[168] nymphs my pages shall be clad; + My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns, + Shall with their goat-feet dance the antic hay.[169] + Sometime a lovely boy in Dian's shape, 60 + With hair that gilds the water as it glides, + Crownets of pearl about his naked arms, + And in his sportful hands an olive-tree, + To hide those parts which men delight to see, + Shall bathe him in a spring; and there hard by, + One like Actæon peeping through the grove, + Shall by the angry goddess be transformed, + And running in the likeness of an hart + By yelping hounds pulled down, and[170] seem to die;-- + Such things as these best please his majesty. 70 + Here comes my lord[171] the king, and [here] the nobles + From the parliament. I'll stand aside. + + _Enter the_ KING, LANCASTER, OLD MORTIMER, YOUNG MORTIMER, + EDMUND, _Earl of Kent_, GUY, _Earl of Warwick, &c._ + + _Edw._ Lancaster! + + _Lan._ My lord. + + _Gav._ That Earl of Lancaster do I abhor. [_Aside._ + + _Edw._ Will you not grant me this? In spite of them + I'll have my will; and these two Mortimers, + That cross me thus, shall know I am displeased. + + _E. Mor._ If you love us, my lord, hate Gaveston. + + _Gav._ That villain Mortimer, I'll be his death! [_Aside._ + + _Y. Mor._ Mine uncle here, this earl, and I myself, 81 + Were sworn[172] to your father at his death, + That he should ne'er return into the realm: + And know, my lord, ere I will break my oath, + This sword of mine, that should offend your foes, + Shall sleep within the scabbard at thy need, + And underneath thy banners march who will, + For Mortimer will hang his armour up. + + _Gav._ _Mort dieu!_ [_Aside._ + + _Edw._ Well, Mortimer, I'll make thee rue these words. + Beseems it thee to contradict thy king? 91 + Frown'st thou thereat, aspiring Lancaster?[173] + The sword shall plane the furrows of thy brows, + And hew these knees that now are grown so stiff. + I will have Gaveston; and you shall know + What danger 'tis to stand against your king. + + _Gav._ Well done, Ned! [_Aside._ + + _Lan._ My lord, why do you thus incense your peers, + That naturally would love and honour you + But for that base and obscure Gaveston? 100 + Four earldoms have I, besides Lancaster-- + Derby, Salisbury, Lincoln, Leicester, + These will I sell, to give my soldiers pay, + Ere Gaveston shall stay within the realm; + Therefore, if he be come, expel him straight. + + _Edw._ Barons and earls, your pride hath made me mute; + But now I'll speak, and to the proof, I hope. + I do remember, in my father's days, + Lord Percy of the north, being highly moved, + Braved Moubery[174] in presence of the king; 110 + For which, had not his highness loved him well, + He should have lost his head; but with his look + The undaunted spirit of Percy was appeased, + And Moubery and he were reconciled. + Yet dare you brave the king unto his face; + Brother, revenge it, and let these their heads + Preach upon poles, for trespass of their tongues. + + _War._ O, our heads! + + _Edw._ I, yours; and therefore I would wish you grant-- + + _War._ Bridle thy anger, gentle Mortimer. 120 + + _Y. Mor._ I cannot, nor I will not; I must speak. + Cousin, our hands I hope shall fence our heads, + And strike off his that makes you threaten us. + Come, uncle, let us leave the brainsick king, + And henceforth parley with our naked swords. + + _E. Mor._ Wiltshire hath men enough to save our heads. + + _War._ All Warwickshire will love[175] him for my sake. + + _Lan._ And northward Gaveston[176] hath many friends. + Adieu, my lord; and either change your mind, + Or look to see the throne, where you should sit, 130 + To float in blood; and at thy wanton head, + The glozing head of thy base minion thrown. [_Exeunt_ Nobles. + + _Edw._ I cannot brook these haughty menaces; + Am I a king, and must be overruled? + Brother, display my ensigns in the field; + I'll bandy[177] with the barons and the earls, + And either die or live with Gaveston. + + _Gav._ I can no longer keep me from my lord. + [_Comes forward._ + + _Edw._ What, Gaveston! welcome.--Kiss not my hand-- + Embrace me, Gaveston, as I do thee. 140 + Why should'st thou kneel? know'st thou not who I am? + Thy friend, thyself, another Gaveston! + Not Hylas was more mourned of[178] Hercules, + Than thou hast been of me since thy exile. + + _Gav._ And since I went from hence, no soul in hell + Hath felt more torment than poor Gaveston. + + _Edw._ I know it.--Brother, welcome home my friend. + Now let the treacherous Mortimers conspire, + And that high-minded Earl of Lancaster: + I have my wish, in that I joy thy sight; 150 + And sooner shall the sea o'erwhelm my land, + Than bear the ship that shall transport thee hence. + I here create thee Lord High Chamberlain, + Chief Secretary to the state and me, + Earl of Cornwall, King and Lord of Man. + + _Gav._ My lord, these titles far exceed my worth. + + _Kent._ Brother, the least of these may well suffice + For one of greater birth than Gaveston. + + _Edw._ Cease, brother: for I cannot brook these words. + Thy worth, sweet friend, is far above my gifts, 160 + Therefore, to equal it, receive my heart; + If for these dignities thou be envied, + I'll give thee more; for, but to honour thee, + Is Edward pleased with kingly regiment.[179] + Fear'st thou thy person? thou shalt have a guard. + Wantest thou gold? go to my treasury. + Wouldst thou be loved and feared? receive my seal; + Save or condemn, and in our name command + Whatso thy mind affects, or fancy likes. + + _Gav._ It shall suffice me to enjoy your love, 170 + Which whiles I have, I think myself as great + As Cæsar riding in the Roman street, + With captive kings at his triumphant car. + + _Enter the_ BISHOP OF COVENTRY. + + _Edw._ Whither goes my lord of Coventry so fast? + + _Bish._ To celebrate your father's exequies. + But is that wicked Gaveston returned? + + _Edw._ I, priest, and lives to be revenged on thee, + That wert the only cause of his exile. + + _Gav._ 'Tis true; and but for reverence of these robes, + Thou should'st not plod one foot beyond this place. 180 + + _Bish._ I did no more than I was bound to do; + And, Gaveston, unless thou be reclaimed, + As then I did incense the parliament, + So will I now, and thou shalt back to France. + + _Gav._ Saving your reverence, you must pardon me. + + _Edw._ Throw off his golden mitre, rend his stole, + And in the channel[180] christen him anew. + + _Kent._ Ah, brother, lay not violent hands on him, + For he'll complain unto the see of Rome. + + _Gav._ Let him complain unto the see of hell, 190 + I'll be revenged on him for my exile. + + _Edw._ No, spare his life, but seize upon his goods: + Be thou lord bishop and receive his rents, + And make him serve thee as thy chaplain: + I give him thee--here, use him as thou wilt. + + _Gav._ He shall to prison, and there die in bolts. + + _Edw._ I, to the Tower, the Fleet, or where thou wilt. + + _Bish._ For this offence, be thou accurst of God! + + _Edw._ Who's there? Convey this priest to the Tower. + + _Bish._ True, true.[181] 200 + + _Edw._ But in the meantime, Gaveston, away, + And take possession of his house and goods. + Come, follow me, and thou shalt have my guard + To see it done, and bring thee safe again. + + _Gav._ What should a priest do with so fair a house? + A prison may best[182] beseem his holiness. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_[183] _both the_ MORTIMERS, WARWICK, _and_ LANCASTER. + + _War._ 'Tis true, the bishop is in the Tower, + And goods and body given to Gaveston. + + _Lan._ What! will they tyrannise upon the church? + Ah, wicked king! accursed Gaveston! + This ground, which is corrupted with their steps, + Shall be their timeless[184] sepulchre or mine. + + _Y. Mor._ Well, let that peevish Frenchman guard him sure; + Unless his breast be sword-proof he shall die. + + _E. Mor._ How now, why droops the Earl of Lancaster? + + _Y. Mor._ Wherefore is Guy of Warwick discontent? 10 + + _Lan._ That villain Gaveston is made an earl. + + _E. Mor._ An earl! + + _War._ I, and besides Lord Chamberlain of the realm, + And Secretary too, and Lord of Man. + + _E. Mor._ We may not, nor we will not suffer this. + + _Y. Mor._ Why post we not from hence to levy men? + + _Lan._ "My Lord of Cornwall," now at every word! + And happy is the man whom he vouchsafes, + For vailing of his bonnet, one good look. + Thus, arm in arm, the king and he doth march: 20 + Nay more, the guard upon his lordship waits; + And all the court begins to flatter him. + + _War_. Thus leaning on the shoulder of the king, + He nods and scorns, and smiles at those that pass. + + _E. Mor._ Doth no man take exceptions at the slave? + + _Lan._ All stomach[185] him, but none dare speak a word. + + _Y. Mor._ Ah, that bewrays their baseness, Lancaster. + Were all the earls and barons of my mind, + We'd[186] hale him from the bosom of the king, + And at the court-gate hang the peasant up; 30 + Who, swoln with venom of ambitious pride, + Will be the ruin of the realm and us. + + _Enter the_ ARCHBISHOP _of_ CANTERBURY _and a_ Messenger. + + _War._ Here comes my Lord of Canterbury's grace. + + _Lan._ His countenance bewrays he is displeased. + + _Archbish._ First were his sacred garments rent and torn, + Then laid they violent hands upon him; next + Himself imprisoned, and his goods asseized: + This certify the pope;--away, take horse. [_Exit_ Messenger. + + _Lan._ My lord, will you take arms against the king? + + _Archbish._ What need I? God himself is up in arms, 40 + When violence is offered to the church. + + _Y. Mor._ Then will you join with us, that be his peers, + To banish or behead that Gaveston? + + _Archbish._ What else, my lords? for it concerns me near;-- + The bishoprick of Coventry is his. + + _Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA. + + _Y. Mor._ Madam, whither walks your majesty so fast? + + _Queen._ Unto the forest,[187] gentle Mortimer, + To live in grief and baleful discontent; + For now, my lord, the king regards me not, + But doats upon the love of Gaveston. 50 + He claps his cheek, and hangs about his neck, + Smiles in his face, and whispers in his ears; + And when I come he frowns, as who should say, + "Go whither thou wilt, seeing I have Gaveston." + + _E. Mor._ Is it not strange, that he is thus bewitched? + + _Y. Mor._ Madam, return unto the court again: + That sly inveigling Frenchman we'll exile, + Or lose our lives; and yet ere that day come + The king shall lose his crown; for we have power, + And courage too, to be revenged at full. 60 + + _Archbish._ But yet lift not your swords against the king. + + _Lan._ No; but we will lift Gaveston from hence. + + _War._ And war must be the means, or he'll stay still. + + _Queen._ Then let him stay; for rather than my lord + Shall be oppressed with civil mutinies, + I will endure a melancholy life, + And let him frolic with his minion. + + _Archbish._ My lords, to ease all this, but hear me speak:-- + We and the rest, that are his counsellors, + Will meet, and with a general consent 70 + Confirm his banishment with our hands and seals. + + _Lan._ What we confirm the king will frustrate. + + _Y. Mor._ Then may we lawfully revolt from him. + + _War._ But say, my lord, where shall this meeting be? + + _Archbish._ At the New Temple. + + _Y. Mor._ Content. + + [_Archbish._] And, in the meantime, I'll entreat you all + To cross to Lambeth, and there stay with me. + + _Lan._ Come then, let's away. + + _Y. Mor._ Madam, farewell! 80 + + _Queen_. Farewell, sweet Mortimer; and, for my sake, + Forbear to levy arms against the king. + + _Y. Mor_. I, if words will serve; if not, I must. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE III. + + _Enter[188]_ GAVESTON _and the_ EARL _of_ KENT. + + _Gav._ Edmund, the mighty prince of Lancaster, + That hath more earldoms than an ass can bear, + And both the Mortimers, two goodly men, + With Guy of Warwick, that redoubted knight, + Are gone toward Lambeth--there let them remain. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE IV. + + _Enter[189]_ NOBLES _and the_ ARCHBISHOP _of_ CANTERBURY. + + _Lan._ Here is the form of Gaveston's exile: + May it please your lordship to subscribe your name. + + _Archbish._ Give me the paper. + [_He subscribes, as the others do after him._ + + _Lan._ Quick, quick, my lord; I long to write my name. + + _War._ But I long more to see him banished hence. + + _Y. Mor._ The name of Mortimer shall fright the king, + Unless he be declined from that base peasant. + + _Enter the_ KING, GAVESTON, _and_ KENT. + + _Edw._ What, are you moved that Gaveston sits here? + It is our pleasure, and we will have it so. + + _Lan._ Your grace doth well to place him by your side, 10 + For nowhere else the new earl is so safe. + + _E. Mor._ What man of noble birth can brook this sight? + _Quam male conveniunt!_[190] + See what a scornful look the peasant casts! + + _Pem._ Can kingly lions fawn on creeping ants? + + _War._ Ignoble vassal, that like Phaeton + Aspir'st unto the guidance of the sun. + + _Y. Mor._ Their downfall is at hand, their forces down: + We will not thus be faced and over-peered. + + _Edw._ Lay hands on[191] that traitor Mortimer! 20 + + _E. Mor._ Lay hands on that traitor Gaveston! + + _Kent._ Is this the duty that you owe your king? + + _War._ We know our duties--let him know his peers. + + _Edw._ Whither will you bear him? Stay, or ye shall die. + + _E. Mor._ We are no traitors; therefore threaten not. + + _Gav._ No, threaten not, my lord, but pay them home! + Were I a king---- + + _Y. Mor._ Thou villain, wherefore talk'st thou of a king, + That hardly art a gentleman by birth? + + _Edw._ Were he a peasant, being my minion, 30 + I'll make the proudest of you stoop to him. + + _Lan._ My lord, you may not thus disparage us. + Away, I say, with hateful Gaveston. + + _E. Mor._ And with the Earl of Kent that favours him. + [Attendants _remove_ KENT _and_ GAVESTON. + + _Edw._ Nay, then, lay violent hands upon your king, + Here, Mortimer, sit thou in Edward's throne: + Warwick and Lancaster, wear you my crown: + Was ever king thus over-ruled as I? + + _Lan._ Learn then to rule us better, and the realm. + + _Y. Mor._ What we have done, our heart-blood shall maintain. 40 + + _War._ Think you that we can brook this upstart pride? + + _Edw._ Anger and wrathful fury stops my speech. + + _Archbish._ Why are you moved? be patient, my lord, + And see what we your counsellors have done. + + _Y. Mor._ My lords, now let us all be resolute, + And either have our wills or lose our lives. + + _Edw._ Meet you for this? proud overbearing peers! + Ere my sweet Gaveston shall part from me, + This isle shall fleet[192] upon the ocean, + And wander to the unfrequented Inde. 50 + + _Archbish._ You know that I am legate to the pope; + On your allegiance to the see of Rome, + Subscribe, as we have done, to his exile. + + _Y. Mor._ Curse him, if he refuse; and then may we + Depose him and elect another king. + + _Edw._ I, there it goes--but yet I will not yield: + Curse me, depose me, do the worst you can. + + _Lan._ Then linger not, my lord, but do it straight. + + _Archbish._ Remember how the bishop was abused! + Either banish him that was the cause thereof, 60 + Or I will presently discharge these lords[193] + Of duty and allegiance due to thee. + + _Edw._ It boots me not to threat--I must speak fair: [_Aside._ + The legate of the pope will be obeyed. + My lord, you shall be Chancellor of the realm; + Thou, Lancaster, High Admiral of the fleet; + Young Mortimer and his uncle shall be earls; + And you, Lord Warwick, President of the North; + And thou of Wales. If this content you not, + Make several kingdoms of this monarchy, 70 + And share it equally amongst you all, + So I may have some nook or corner left, + To frolic with my dearest Gaveston. + + _Archbish._ Nothing shall alter us--we are resolved. + + _Lan._ Come, come, subscribe. + + _Y. Mor._ Why should you love him whom the world hates so? + + _Edw._ Because he loves me more than all the world. + Ah, none but rude and savage-minded men + Would seek the ruin of my Gaveston; + You that be[194] noble born should pity him. 80 + + _War._ You that are princely born should shake him off: + For shame subscribe, and let the lown[195] depart. + + _E. Mor._ Urge him, my lord. + + _Archbish._ Are you content to banish him the realm? + + _Edw._ I see I must, and therefore am content: + Instead of ink I'll write it with my tears. [_Subscribes._ + + _Y. Mor._ The king is love-sick for his minion. + + _Edw._ 'Tis done--and now, accursed hand, fall off! + + _Lan._ Give it me--I'll have it published in the streets. + + _Y. Mor._ I'll see him presently despatched away. 90 + + _Archbish._ Now is my heart at ease. + + _War._ And so is mine. + + _Pem._ This will be good news to the common sort. + + _E. Mor._ Be it or no, he shall not linger here. + [_Exeunt_ Nobles. + + _Edw._ How fast they run to banish him I love! + They would not stir, were it to do me good. + Why should a king be subject to a priest? + Proud Rome! that hatchest such imperial grooms, + For[196] these thy superstitious taper-lights, + Wherewith thy antichristian churches blaze, + I'll fire thy crazèd buildings, and enforce 100 + The papal towers to kiss the lowly ground![197] + With slaughtered priests make[198] Tiber's channel swell, + And banks raised higher with their sepulchres! + As for the peers, that back the clergy thus, + If I be king, not one of them shall live. + + _Enter_ GAVESTON. + + _Gav._ My lord, I hear it whispered everywhere, + That I am banished, and must fly the land. + + _Edw._ 'Tis true, sweet Gaveston--O! were it false! + The legate of the Pope will have it so, + And thou must hence, or I shall be deposed. 110 + But I will reign to be revenged of them; + And therefore, sweet friend, take it patiently. + Live where thou wilt, I'll send thee gold enough; + And long thou shalt not stay, or if thou dost, + I'll come to thee; my love shall ne'er decline. + + _Gav._ Is all my hope turned to this hell of grief? + + _Edw._ Rend not my heart with thy too-piercing words: + Thou from this land, I from myself am banished. + + _Gav._ To go from hence grieves not poor Gaveston; + But to forsake you, in whose gracious looks 120 + The blessedness of Gaveston remains: + For nowhere else seeks he felicity. + + _Edw._ And only this torments my wretched soul, + That, whether I will or no, thou must depart. + Be governor of Ireland in my stead, + And there abide till fortune call thee home. + Here take my picture, and let me wear thine; + [_They exchange pictures._ + O, might I keep thee here as I do this, + Happy were I! but now most miserable! + + _Gav._ 'Tis something to be pitied of a king. 130 + + _Edw._ Thou shalt not hence--I'll hide thee, Gaveston. + + _Gav._ I shall be found, and then 'twill grieve me more. + + _Edw._ Kind words, and mutual talk makes our grief greater: + Therefore, with dumb embracement, let us part-- + Stay, Gaveston, I cannot leave thee thus. + + _Gav._ For every look, my lord[199] drops down a tear: + Seeing I must go, do not renew my sorrow. + + _Edw._ The time is little that thou hast to stay, + And therefore, give me leave to look my fill: + But come, sweet friend, I'll bear thee on thy way. 140 + + _Gav._ The peers will frown. + + _Edw._ I pass[200] not for their anger--Come, let's go; + O that we might as well return as go. + + _Enter_ KENT[201] _and_ QUEEN ISABEL. + + _Queen._ Whither goes my lord? + + _Edw._ Fawn not on me, French strumpet! get thee gone. + + _Queen._ On whom but on my husband should I fawn? + + _Gav._ On Mortimer! with whom, ungentle queen-- + I say no more--judge you the rest, my lord. + + _Queen._ In saying this, thou wrong'st me, Gaveston; + Is't not enough that thou corrupt'st my lord, 150 + And art a bawd to his affections, + But thou must call mine honour thus in question? + + _Gav._ I mean not so; your grace must pardon me. + + _Edw._ Thou art too familiar with that Mortimer, + And by thy means is Gaveston exiled; + But I would wish thee reconcile the lords, + Or thou shalt ne'er be reconciled to me. + + _Queen._ Your highness knows it lies not in my power. + + _Edw._ Away then! touch me not--Come, Gaveston. + + _Queen._ Villain! 'tis thou that robb'st me of my lord. 160 + + _Gav._ Madam, 'tis you that rob me of my lord. + + _Edw._ Speak not unto her; let her droop and pine. + + _Queen._ Wherein, my lord, have I deserved these words? + Witness the tears that Isabella sheds, + Witness this heart, that sighing for thee, breaks, + How dear my lord is to poor Isabel. + + _Edw._ And witness heaven how dear thou art to me: + There weep: for till my Gaveston be repealed, + Assure thyself thou com'st not in my sight. + [_Exeunt_ EDWARD _and_ GAVESTON. + + _Queen._ O miserable and distressèd queen! 170 + Would, when I left sweet France and was embarked, + That charming Circe[202] walking on the waves, + Had changed my shape, or at[203] the marriage-day + The cup of Hymen had been full of poison, + Or with those arms that twined about my neck + I had been stifled, and not lived to see + The king my lord thus to abandon me! + Like frantic Juno will I fill the earth + With ghastly murmur of my sighs and cries; + For never doated Jove on Ganymede 180 + So much as he on cursed Gaveston: + But that will more exasperate his wrath: + I must entreat him, I must speak him fair, + And be a means to call home Gaveston: + And yet he'll ever doat on Gaveston: + And so am I for ever miserable. + + _Enter the_ Nobles. + + _Lan._ Look where the sister of the king of France + Sits wringing of her hands, and beats her breast! + + _War._ The king, I fear, hath ill-entreated her. + + _Pem._ Hard is the heart that injuries[204] such a saint. 190 + + _Y. Mor._ I know 'tis 'long of Gavestone she weeps. + + _E. Mor._ Why, he is gone. + + _Y. Mor._ Madam, how fares your grace? + + _Queen._ Ah, Mortimer! now breaks the king's hate forth, + And he confesseth that he loves me not. + + _Y. Mor._ Cry quittance, madam, then; and love not him. + + _Queen._ No, rather will I die a thousand deaths: + And yet I love in vain--he'll ne'er love me. + + _Lan._ Fear ye not, madam; now his minion's gone, + His wanton humour will be quickly left. + + _Queen._ O never, Lancaster! I am enjoined 200 + To sue upon you all for his repeal; + This wills my lord, and this must I perform, + Or else be banished from his highness' presence. + + _Lan._ For his repeal, madam! he comes not back, + Unless the sea cast up his shipwrecked body. + + _War._ And to behold so sweet a sight as that, + There's none here but would run his horse to death. + + _Y. Mor._ But, madam, would you have us call him home? + + _Queen._ I, Mortimer, for till he be restored, + The angry king hath banished me the court; 210 + And, therefore, as thou lov'st and tender'st me, + Be thou my advocate upon the peers. + + _Y. Mor._ What! would you have me plead for Gaveston? + + _E. Mor._ Plead for him that will, I am resolved. + + _Lan._ And so am I, my lord! dissuade the queen. + + _Queen._ O Lancaster! let him dissuade the king, + For 'tis against my will he should return. + + _War._ Then speak not for him, let the peasant go. + + _Queen._ 'Tis for myself I speak, and not for him. + + _Pem._ No speaking will prevail,[205] and therefore cease. 220 + + _Y. Mor._ Fair queen, forbear to angle for the fish + Which, being caught, strikes him that takes it dead; + I mean that vile torpedo, Gaveston, + That now I hope floats on the Irish seas. + + _Queen._ Sweet Mortimer, sit down by me awhile, + And I will tell thee reasons of such weight + As thou wilt soon subscribe to his repeal. + + _Y. Mor._ It is impossible; but speak your mind. + + _Queen._ Then thus, but none shall hear it but ourselves. + [_Talks to_ Y. MOR. _apart._ + + _Lan._ My lords, albeit the queen win Mortimer, 230 + Will you be resolute, and hold with me? + + _E. Mor._ Not I, against my nephew. + + _Pem._ Fear not, the queen's words cannot alter him. + + _War._ No, do but mark how earnestly she pleads. + + _Lan._ And see how coldly his looks make denial. + + _War._ She smiles; now for my life his mind is changed. + + _Lan._ I'll rather lose his friendship, I, than grant. + + _Y. Mor._ Well, of necessity it must be so. + My lords, that I abhor base Gaveston, + I hope your honours take no question, 240 + And therefore, though I plead for his repeal, + 'Tis not for his sake, but for our avail! + Nay for the realm's behoof, and for the king's. + + _Lan._ Fie, Mortimer, dishonour not thyself! + Can this be true, 'twas good to banish him? + And is this true, to call him home again? + Such reasons make white black, and dark night day. + + _Y. Mor._ My lord of Lancaster, mark the respect.[206] + + _Lan._ In no respect can contraries be true. + + _Queen._ Yet, good my lord, here what he can allege. 250 + + _War._ All that he speaks is nothing, we are resolved. + + _Y. Mor._ Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead? + + _Pem._ I would he were. + + _Y. Mor._ Why then, my lord, give me but leave to speak + + _E. Mor._ But, nephew, do not play the sophister. + + _Y. Mor._ This which I urge is of a burning zeal + To mend the king, and do our country good, + Know you not Gaveston hath store of gold, + Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends, + As he will front the mightiest of us all? 260 + And whereas he shall live and be beloved, + 'Tis hard for us to work his overthrow. + + _War._ Mark you but that, my lord of Lancaster. + + _Y. Mor._ But were he here, detested as he is, + How easily might some base slave be suborned + To greet his lordship with a poniard, + And none so much as blame the murderer, + But rather praise him for that brave attempt, + And in the chronicle enrol his name + For purging of the realm of such a plague? 270 + + _Pem._ He saith true. + + _Lan._ I, but how chance this was not done before? + + _Y. Mor._ Because, my lords, it was not thought upon; + Nay, more, when he shall know it lies in us + To banish him, and then to call him home, + 'Twill make him vail[207] the top-flag of his pride, + And fear to offend the meanest nobleman. + + _E. Mor._ But how if he do not, nephew? + + _Y. Mor._ Then may we with some colour rise in arms? + For howsoever we have borne it out, 280 + 'Tis treason to be up against the king; + So we shall have the people of our side, + Which for his father's sake lean to the king, + But cannot brook a night-grown mushroom, + Such a one as my lord of Cornwall is, + Should bear us down of the nobility. + And when the commons and the nobles join, + 'Tis not the king can buckler Gaveston; + We'll pull him from the strongest hold he hath. + My lords, if to perform this I be slack, 290 + Think me as base a groom as Gaveston. + + _Lan._ On that condition, Lancaster will grant. + + _War._ And so will Pembroke and I. + + _E. Mor._ And I. + + _Y. Mor._ In this I count me highly gratified, + And Mortimer will rest at your command. + + _Queen._ And when this favour Isabel forgets, + Then let her live abandoned and forlorn. + But see, in happy time, my lord the king, + Having brought the Earl of Cornwall on his way, 300 + Is new returned; this news will glad him much; + Yet not so much as me; I love him more + Than he can Gaveston; would he loved me + But half so much, then were I treble-blessed! + + _Enter_ KING EDWARD, _mourning._ + + _Edw._ He's gone, and for his absence thus I mourn. + Did ever sorrow go so near my heart, + As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston! + And could my crown's revenue bring him back, + I would freely give it to his enemies, + And think I gained, having bought so dear a friend. 310 + + _Queen._ Hark! how he harps upon his minion. + + _Edw._ My heart is as an anvil unto sorrow, + Which beats upon it like the Cyclops' hammers, + And with the noise turns up my giddy brain, + And makes me frantic for my Gaveston. + Ah! had some bloodless fury rose from hell, + And with my kingly sceptre struck me dead, + When I was forced to leave my Gaveston! + + _Lan._ Diablo! what passions call you these? + + _Queen._ My gracious lord, I come to bring you news. 320 + + _Edw._ That you have parled with your Mortimer? + + _Queen._ That Gaveston, my lord, shall be repealed. + + _Edw._ Repealed! the news is too sweet to be true! + + _Queen._ But will you love me, if you find it so? + + _Edw._ If it be so, what will not Edward do? + + _Queen._ For Gaveston, but not for Isabel. + + _Edw._ For thee, fair queen, if thou lov'st Gaveston, + I'll hang a golden tongue about thy neck, + Seeing thou hast pleaded with so good success. + + _Queen._ No other jewels hang about my neck 330 + Than these, my lord; nor let me have more wealth + Than I may fetch from this rich treasury-- + O how a kiss revives poor Isabel! + + _Edw._ Once more receive my hand; and let this be + A second marriage 'twixt thyself and me. + + _Queen._ And may it prove more happy than the first! + My gentle lord, bespeak these nobles fair, + That wait attendance for a gracious look, + And on their knees salute your majesty. + + _Edw._ Courageous Lancaster, embrace thy king; 340 + And, as gross vapours perish by the sun, + Even so let hatred with thy sovereign's[208] smile. + Live thou with me as my companion. + + _Lan._ This salutation overjoys my heart. + + _Edw._ Warwick shall be my chiefest counsellor: + These silver hairs will more adorn my court + Than gaudy silks, or rich embroidery. + Chide me, sweet Warwick, if I go astray. + + _War._ Slay me, my lord, when I offend your grace. + + _Edw._ In solemn triumphs, and in public shows, 350 + Pembroke shall bear the sword before the king. + + _Pem._ And with this sword Pembroke will fight for you. + + _Edw._ But wherefore walks young Mortimer aside? + Be thou commander of our royal fleet; + Or, if that lofty office like thee not, + I make thee here Lord Marshal of the realm. + + _Y. Mor._ My lord, I'll marshal so your enemies, + As England shall be quiet, and you safe. + + _Edw._ And as for you, Lord Mortimer of Chirke, + Whose great achievements in our foreign war 360 + Deserves no common place, nor mean reward; + Be you the general of the levied troops, + That now are ready to assail the Scots. + + _E. Mor._ In this your grace hath highly honoured me, + For with my nature war doth best agree. + + _Queen._ Now is the king of England rich and strong, + Having the love of his renownéd peers. + + _Edw._ I, Isabel, ne'er was my heart so light. + Clerk of the crown, direct our warrant forth + For Gaveston to Ireland: [_Enter_ Beaumont _with warrant._] + Beaumont, fly, 370 + As fast as Iris, or Jove's Mercury. + + _Bea._ It shall be done, my gracious lord. + + _Edw._ Lord Mortimer, we leave you to your charge. + Now let us in, and feast it royally. + Against our friend the Earl of Cornwall comes, + We'll have a general tilt and tournament; + And then his marriage shall be solemnised. + For wot you not that I have made him sure[209] + Unto our cousin, the earl of Gloucester's heir? + + _Lan._ Such news we hear, my lord. 380 + + _Edw._ That day, if not for him, yet for my sake, + Who in the triumph will be challenger, + Spare for no cost; we will requite your love. + + _War._ In this, or aught your highness shall command us. + + _Edw_. Thanks, gentle Warwick: come, let's in and revel. + [_Exeunt. Manent the_ MORTIMERS. + _E. Mor._ Nephew, I must to Scotland; thou stayest here. + Leave now t'oppose thyself against the king. + Thou seest by nature he is mild and calm, + And, seeing his mind so doats on Gaveston, + Let him without controulment have his will. 390 + The mightiest kings have had their minions: + Great Alexander loved Hephestion; + The conquering Hercules[210] for his Hylas wept; + And for Patroclus stern Achilles drooped. + And not kings only, but the wisest men: + The Roman Tully loved Octavius; + Grave Socrates wild Alcibiades. + Then let his grace, whose youth is flexible, + And promiseth as much as we can wish, + Freely enjoy that vain, light-headed earl; 400 + For riper years will wean him from such toys. + + _Y. Mor._ Uncle, his wanton humour grieves not me; + But this I scorn, that one so basely born + Should by his sovereign's favour grow so pert, + And riot it with the treasure of the realm. + While soldiers mutiny for want of pay, + He wears a lord's revenue on his back,[211] + And Midas-like, he jets it in the court, + With base outlandish cullions[212] at his heels, + Whose proud fantastic liveries make such show, 410 + As if that Proteus, god of shapes, appeared. + I have not seen a dapper Jack so brisk; + He wears a short Italian hooded cloak, + Larded with pearl, and, in his Tuscan cap, + A jewel of more value than the crown. + While other[213] walk below, the king and he + From out a window laugh at such as we, + And flout our train, and jest at our attire. + Uncle, 'tis this makes me impatient. 419 + + _E. Mor._ But, nephew, now you see the king is changed. + + _Y. Mor._ Then so am I, and live to do him service: + But whilst I have a sword, a hand, a heart, + I will not yield to any such upstart. + You know my mind; come, uncle, let's away. + [_Exeunt._ + + + + + ACT THE SECOND. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_[214] YOUNG SPENCER _and_ BALDOCK. + + _Bald._ Spencer, + Seeing that our lord the Earl of Gloucester's dead, + Which of the nobles dost thou mean to serve? + + _Y. Spen._ Not Mortimer, nor any of his side; + Because the king and he are enemies. + Baldock, learn this of me, a factious lord + Shall hardly do himself good, much less us; + But he that hath the favour of a king, + May with one word advance us while we live: + The liberal Earl of Cornwall is the man 10 + On whose good fortune Spencer's hope depends. + + _Bald._ What, mean you then to be his follower? + + _Y. Spen._ No, his companion; for he loves me well, + And would have once preferred me to the king. + + _Bald._ But he is banished; there's small hope of him. + + _Y. Spen._ I, for a while; but, Baldock, mark the end. + A friend of mine told me in secresy + That he's repealed, and sent for back again; + And even now a post came from the court + With letters to our lady from the king; 20 + And as she read she smiled, which makes me think + It is about her lover Gaveston. + + _Bald._ 'Tis like enough; for since he was exiled + She neither walks abroad, nor comes in sight. + But I had thought the match had been broke off, + And that his banishment had changed her mind. + + _Y. Spen._ Our lady's first love is not wavering; + My life for thine she will have Gaveston. + + _Bald._ Then hope I by her means to be preferred, + Having read unto her since she was a child. 30 + + _Y. Spen._ Then, Baldock, you must cast the scholar off, + And learn to court it like a gentleman. + 'Tis not a black coat and a little band, + A velvet caped cloak, faced before with serge, + And smelling to a nosegay all the day, + Or holding of a napkin in your hand, + Or saying a long grace at a table's end, + Or making low legs to a nobleman, + Or looking downward with your eyelids close, + And saying, "Truly, an't may please your honour," 40 + Can get you any favour with great men; + You must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute, + And now and then stab, as occasion serves. + + _Bald._ Spencer, thou know'st I hate such formal toys, + And use them but of mere hypocrisy. + Mine old lord while he lived was so precise, + That he would take exceptions at my buttons, + And being like pins' heads, blame me for the bigness; + Which made me curate-like in mine attire, + Though inwardly licentious enough, 50 + And apt for any kind of villainy. + I am none of these common pedants, I, + That cannot speak without _propterea quod_. + + _Y. Spen._ But one of those that saith, _quandoquidem_, + And hath a special gift to form a verb. + + _Bald._ Leave off this jesting, here my lady comes. + + _Enter the_ Lady. + + _Lady._ The grief for his exile was not so much, + As is the joy of his returning home. + This letter came from my sweet Gaveston: + What need'st thou, love, thus to excuse thyself? 60 + I know thou could'st not come and visit me: + _I will not long be from thee, though I die._ [_Reads._ + This argues the entire love of my lord; + _When I forsake thee, death seize on my heart:_ [_Reads._ + But stay[215] thee here where Gaveston shall sleep. + Now to the letter of my lord the king.-- + He wills me to repair unto the court, + And meet my Gaveston? why do I stay, + Seeing that he talks thus of my marriage-day? + Who's there? Baldock! 70 + See that my coach be ready, I must hence. + + _Bald._ It shall be done, madam. [_Exit._ + + _Lady._ And meet me at the park-pale presently. + Spencer, stay you and bear me company, + For I have joyful news to tell thee of; + My lord of Cornwall is a coming over, + And will be at the court as soon as we. + + _Spen._ I knew the king would have him home again. + + _Lady._ If all things sort out, as I hope they will, + Thy service, Spencer, shall be thought upon. 80 + + _Spen._ I humbly thank your ladyship. + + _Lady._ Come, lead the way; I long till I am there. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_[216] EDWARD, _the_ QUEEN, LANCASTER, YOUNG MORTIMER, + WARWICK, PEMBROKE, KENT, _and_ Attendants. + + _Edw._ The wind is good, I wonder why he stays; + I fear me he is wrecked upon the sea. + + _Queen._ Look, Lancaster, how passionate he is, + And still his mind runs on his minion! + + _Lan._ My lord. + + _Edw._ How now! what news? is Gaveston arrived? + + _Y. Mor._ Nothing but Gaveston! what means your grace? + You have matters of more weight to think upon; + The King of France sets foot in Normandy. + + _Edw._ A trifle! we'll expel him when we please. 10 + But tell me, Mortimer, what's thy device + Against the stately triumph we decreed? + + _Y. Mor._ A homely one, my lord, not worth the telling. + + _Edw._ Pray thee let me know it. + + _Y. Mor._ But, seeing you are so desirous, thus it is: + A lofty cedar-tree, fair flourishing, + On whose top-branches kingly eagles perch, + And by the bark a canker creeps me up, + And gets into the highest bough of all: + The motto, _Æque tandem_. 20 + + _Edw._ And what is yours, my lord of Lancaster? + + _Lan._ My lord, mine's more obscure than Mortimer's. + Pliny[217] reports there is a[218] flying fish + Which all the other fishes deadly hate, + And therefore, being pursued, it takes the air: + No sooner is it up, but there's a fowl + That seizeth it: this fish, my lord, I bear, + The motto this: _Undique mors est_. + + _Kent._[219] Proud Mortimer! ungentle Lancaster! + Is this the love you bear your sovereign? 30 + Is this the fruit your reconcilement bears? + Can you in words make show of amity, + And in your shields display your rancorous minds! + What call you this but private libelling + Against the Earl of Cornwall and my brother? + + _Queen._ Sweet husband, be content, they all love you. + + _Edw._ They love me not that hate my Gaveston. + I am that cedar, shake me not too much; + And you the eagles; soar ye ne'er so high, + I have the jesses[220] that will pull you down; 40 + And _Æque tandem_ shall that canker cry + Unto the proudest peer of Britainy. + Though thou compar'st him to a flying fish, + And threatenest death whether he rise or fall, + 'Tis not the hugest monster of the sea, + Nor foulest harpy that shall swallow him. + + _Y. Mor._ If in his absence thus he favours him, + What will he do whenas he shall be present? + + _Lan._ That shall we see; look where his lordship comes. + + _Enter_ GAVESTON. + + _Edw._ My Gaveston! 50 + Welcome to Tynemouth! welcome to thy friend! + Thy absence made me droop and pine away; + For, as the lovers of fair Danae, + When she was locked up in a brazen tower, + Desired her more, and waxed outrageous, + So did it fare[221] with me: and now thy sight + Is sweeter far than was thy parting hence + Bitter and irksome to my sobbing heart. + + _Gav._ Sweet lord and king, your speech preventeth mine, + Yet have I words left to express my joy: 60 + The shepherd nipt with biting winter's rage + Frolics not more to see the painted spring, + Than I do to behold your majesty. + + _Edw._ Will none of you salute my Gaveston? + + _Lan._ Salute him? yes; welcome, Lord Chamberlain! + + _Y. Mor._ Welcome is the good Earl of Cornwall! + + _War._ Welcome, Lord Governor of the Isle of Man! + + _Pem._ Welcome, Master Secretary! + + _Kent._ Brother, do you hear them? + + _Edw._ Still will these earls and barons use me thus. 70 + + _Gav._ My lord, I cannot brook these injuries. + + _Queen._ Aye me, poor soul, when these begin to jar. [_Aside._ + + _Edw._ Return it to their throats, I'll be thy warrant. + + _Gav._ Base, leaden earls, that glory in your birth, + Go sit at home and eat your tenants' beef; + And come not here to scoff at Gaveston, + Whose mounting thoughts did never creep so low + As to bestow a look on such as you. + + _Lan._ Yet I disdain not to do this for you. [_Draws._ + + _Edw._ Treason! treason! where's the traitor? 80 + + _Pem._ Here! here! king.[222] + + [_Edw._] Convey hence Gaveston; they'll murder him. + + _Gav._ The life of thee shall salve this foul disgrace. + + _Y. Mor._ Villain! thy life, unless I miss mine aim. + [_Offers to stab him._ + _Queen._ Ah! furious Mortimer, what hast thou done? + + _Y. Mor._ No more than I would answer, were he slain. + [_Exit_ GAVESTON _with Attendants._ + + _Edw._ Yes, more than thou canst answer, though he live; + Dear shall you both abide this riotous deed. + Out of my presence! come not near the court. + + _Y. Mor._ I'll not be barred the court for Gaveston. 90 + + _Lan._ We'll hale him by the ears unto the block. + + _Edw._ Look to your own heads; his is sure enough. + + _War._ Look to your own crown, if you back him thus. + + _Kent._ Warwick, these words do ill beseem thy years. + + _Edw._ Nay, all of them conspire to cross me thus; + But if I live, I'll tread upon their heads + That think with high looks thus to tread me down. + Come, Edmund, let's away and levy men, + 'Tis war that must abate these barons' pride. + [_Exeunt the_ KING, QUEEN, _and_ KENT. + + _War._ Let's to our castles, for the king is moved. 100 + + _Y. Mor._ Moved may he be, and perish in his wrath! + + _Lan._ Cousin, it is no dealing with him now, + He means to make us stoop by force of arms; + And therefore let us jointly here protest, + To prosecute that Gaveston to the death. + + _Y. Mor._ By heaven, the abject villain shall not live! + + _War._ I'll have his blood, or die in seeking it. + + _Pem._ The like oath Pembroke takes. + + _Lan._ And so doth Lancaster. + Now send our heralds to defy the king; + And make the people swear to put him down. 110 + + _Enter_ Messenger. + + _Y. Mor._ Letters! from whence? + + _Mess._ From Scotland, My lord. + [_Giving letters to_ MORTIMER. + + _Lan._ Why, how now, cousin, how fares all our friends? + + _Y. Mor._ My uncle's taken prisoner by the Scots. + + _Lan._ We'll have him ransomed, man; be of good cheer. + + _Y. Mor._ They rate his ransom at five thousand pound. + Who should defray the money but the king, + Seeing he is taken prisoner in his wars? + I'll to the king. + + _Lan._ Do, cousin, and I'll bear thee company. + + _War._ Meantime, my lord of Pembroke and myself 120 + Will to Newcastle here, and gather head. + + _Y. Mor._ About it then, and we will follow you. + + _Lan._ Be resolute and full of secrecy. + + _War._ I warrant you. [_Exit with_ PEMBROKE. + + _Y. Mor._ Cousin, and if he will not ransom him, + I'll thunder such a peal into his ears, + As never subject did unto his king.[223] + + _Lan._ Content, I'll bear my part--Holla! whose there? + [Guard _appears._ + _Enter_ Guard. + + _Y. Mor._ I, marry, such a guard as thus doth well. + + _Lan._ Lead on the way. 130 + + _Guard._ Whither will your lordships? + + _Y. Mor._ Whither else but to the king. + + _Guard._ His highness is disposed to be alone. + + _Lan._ Why, so he may, but we will speak to him. + + _Guard._ You may not in, my lord. + + _Y. Mor._ May we not? + + _Enter_[224] EDWARD _and_ KENT. + + _Edw._ How now! what noise is this? + Who have we there, is't you? [_Going._ + + _Y. Mor._ Nay, stay, my lord, I come to bring you news; + Mine uncle's taken prisoner by the Scots. 140 + + _Edw._ Then ransom him. + + _Lan._ 'Twas in your wars; you should ransom him. + + _Y. Mor._ And you shall ransom him, or else---- + + _Kent._ What! Mortimer, you will not threaten him? + + _Edw._ Quiet yourself, you shall have the broad seal, + To gather for him th[o]roughout the realm. + + _Lan._ Your minion Gaveston hath taught you this. + + _Y. Mor._ My lord, the family of the Mortimers + Are not so poor, but, would they sell their land, + 'Twould[225] levy men enough to anger you. 150 + We never beg, but use such prayers as these. + + _Edw._ Shall I still be haunted thus? + + _Y. Mor._ Nay, now you're here alone, I'll speak my mind. + + _Lan._ And so will I, and then, my lord, farewell. + + _Y. Mor._ The idle triumphs, masks, lascivious shows, + And prodigal gifts bestowed on Gaveston, + Have drawn thy treasury[226] dry, and made thee weak; + The murmuring commons, overstretchèd, break.[227] + + _Lan._ Look for rebellion, look to be deposed; + Thy garrisons are beaten out of France, 160 + And, lame and poor, lie groaning at the gates. + The wild Oneyl, with swarms of Irish kerns,[228] + Lives uncontrolled within the English pale. + Unto the walls of York the Scots make[229] road, + And unresisted drive[230] away rich spoils. + + _Y. Mor._ The haughty Dane commands the narrow seas,[231] + While in the harbour ride thy ships unrigged. + + _Lan._ What foreign prince sends thee ambassadors? + + _Y. Mor._ Who loves thee, but a sort of flatterers? + + _Lan._ Thy gentle queen, sole sister to Valois, 170 + Complains that thou hast left her all forlorn. + + _Y. Mor._ Thy court is naked, being bereft of those + That make a king seem glorious to the world; + I mean the peers, whom thou should'st dearly love: + Libels are cast again[232] thee in the street: + Ballads and rhymes made of thy overthrow. + + _Lan._ The Northern borderers seeing their houses burnt, + Their wives and children slain, run up and down, + Cursing the name of thee and Gaveston. + + _Y. Mor._ When wert thou in the field with banner spread, 180 + But once? and then thy soldiers marched like players, + With garish robes, not armour; and thyself, + Bedaubed with gold, rode laughing at the rest, + Nodding and shaking of thy spangled crest, + Where women's favours hung like labels down. + + _Lan._ And thereof came it, that the fleering[233] Scots, + To England's high disgrace, have made this jig; + _Maids_[234] _of England, sore may you mourn, + For your lemans you have lost at Bannocksbourn, + With a heave and a ho._ 190 + _What weeneth the King of England, + So soon to have won Scotland? + With a rombelow?_[235] + + _Y. Mor._ Wigmore[236] shall fly, to set my uncle free. + + _Lan._ And when 'tis gone, our swords shall purchase more. + If ye be moved, revenge it if you can; + Look next to see us with our ensigns spread. + [_Exeunt_ Nobles. + + _Edw._ My swelling heart for very anger breaks! + How oft have I been baited by these peers, + And dare not be revenged, for their power is great! 200 + Yet, shall the crowing of these cockerels + Affright a lion? Edward, unfold thy paws, + And let their lives' blood slake thy fury's hunger. + If I be cruel and grow tyrannous, + Now let them thank themselves, and rue too late. + + _Kent._ My lord, I see your love to Gaveston + Will be the ruin of the realm and you, + For now the wrathful nobles threaten wars, + And therefore, brother, banish him for ever. + + _Edw._ Art thou an enemy to my Gaveston? 210 + + _Kent._ I, and it grieves me that I favoured him. + + _Edw._ Traitor, begone! whine thou with Mortimer. + + _Kent._ So will I, rather than with Gaveston. + + _Edw._ Out of my sight, and trouble me no more! + + _Kent._ No marvel though thou scorn thy noble peers, + When I thy brother am rejected thus. [_Exit._ + + _Edw._ Away! + Poor Gaveston, that has no friend but me, + Do what they can, we'll live in Tynemouth here, + And, so I walk with him about the walls, 220 + What care I though the Earls begirt us round-- + Here cometh she that's cause of all these jars. + + _Enter the_ QUEEN, _with_ King's Niece, _two_ Ladies, + GAVESTON, BALDOCK, _and_ YOUNG SPENCER. + + _Queen._ My lord, 'tis thought the Earls are up in arms. + + _Edw._ I, and 'tis likewise thought you favour 'em.[237] + + _Queen._ Thus do you still suspect me without cause? + + _Lady._ Sweet uncle! speak more kindly to the queen. + + _Gav._ My lord, dissemble with her, speak her fair. + + _Edw._ Pardon me, sweet, I forgot myself. + + _Queen._ Your pardon is quickly got of Isabel. + + _Edw._ The younger Mortimer is grown so brave, 230 + That to my face he threatens civil wars. + + _Gav._ Why do you not commit him to the Tower? + + _Edw._ I dare not, for the people love him well. + + _Gav._ Why then we'll have him privily made away. + + _Edw._ Would Lancaster and he had both caroused + A bowl of poison to each other's health! + But let them go, and tell me what are these. + + _Lady._ Two of my father's servants whilst he liv'd,-- + May't please your grace to entertain them now. + + _Edw._ Tell me, where wast thou born? what is thine arms? 240 + + _Bald._ My name is Baldock, and my gentry + I fetch from Oxford, not from heraldry. + + _Edw._ The fitter art thou, Baldock, for my turn. + Wait on me, and I'll see thou shall not want. + + _Bald._ I humbly thank your majesty. + + _Edw._ Knowest thou him, Gaveston? + + _Gav._ I, my lord; + His name is Spencer, he is well allied; + For my sake, let him wait upon your grace; + Scarce shall you find a man of more desert. + + _Edw._ Then, Spencer, wait upon me, for his sake 250 + I'll grace thee with a higher style ere long. + + _Y. Spen._ No greater titles happen unto me, + Than to be favoured of your majesty. + + _Edw._ Cousin, this day shall be your marriage feast. + And, Gaveston, think that I love thee well, + To wed thee to our niece, the only heir + Unto the Earl of Gloucester late deceased. + + _Gav._ I know, my lord, many will stomach me, + But I respect neither their love nor hate. + + _Edw._ The headstrong barons shall not limit me; 260 + He that I list to favour shall be great. + Come, let's away; and when the marriage ends, + Have at the rebels, and their 'complices! + [_Exeunt omnes._ + + + SCENE III. + + _Enter_[238] LANCASTER, YOUNG MORTIMER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, + _and_ KENT. + + _Kent._ My lords, of love to this our native land + I come to join with you and leave the king; + And in your quarrel and the realm's behoof + Will be the first that shall adventure life. + + _Lan._ I fear me, you are sent of policy, + To undermine us with a show of love. + + _War._ He is your brother, therefore have we cause + To cast[239] the worst, and doubt of your revolt. + + _Kent._ Mine honour shall be hostage of my truth: + If that will not suffice, farewell, my lords. 10 + + _Y. Mor._ Stay, Edmund; never was Plantagenet + False of his word, and therefore trust we thee. + + _Pem._ But what's the reason you should leave him now? + + _Kent._ I have informed the Earl of Lancaster. + + _Lan._ And it sufficeth. Now, my lords, know this, + That Gaveston is secretly arrived, + And here in Tynemouth frolics with the king. + Let us with these our followers scale the walls, + And suddenly surprise them unawares. + + _Y. Mor._ I'll give the onset. + + _War._ And I'll follow thee. 20 + + _Y. Mor._ This tottered[240] ensign of my ancestors, + Which swept the desert shore of that dead[241] sea + Whereof we got the name of Mortimer, + Will I advance upon this castle['s] walls. + Drums, strike alarum, raise them from their sport, + And ring aloud the knell of Gaveston! + + _Lan._ None be so hardy as [to] touch the king; + But neither spare you Gaveston nor his friends. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE IV. + + _Enter_[242] _the_ KING _and_ YOUNG SPENCER. + + _Edw._ O tell me, Spencer, where is Gaveston? + + _Spen._ I fear me, he is slain, my gracious lord. + + _Edw._ No, here he comes; now let them spoil and kill. + + _Enter_ QUEEN, King's Niece, GAVESTON, _and_ Nobles. + + Fly, fly, my lords, the earls have got the hold; + Take shipping and away to Scarborough; + Spencer and I will post away by land. + + _Gav._ O stay, my lord, they will not injure you. + + _Edw._ I will not trust them; Gaveston, away! + + _Gav._ Farewell, my lord. + + _Edw._ Lady, farewell. + + _Lady._ Farewell, sweet uncle, till we meet again. 10 + + _Edw._ Farewell, sweet Gaveston; and farewell, niece. + + _Queen._ No farewell to poor Isabel thy queen? + + _Edw._ Yes, yes, for Mortimer, your lover's sake. + [_Exeunt all but_ ISABEL. + + _Queen._ Heaven can witness I love none but you: + From my embracements thus he breaks away. + O that mine arms could close this isle about, + That I might pull him to me where I would! + Or that these tears, that drizzle from mine eyes, + Had power to mollify his stony heart, + That when I had him we might never part. 20 + + _Enter the_ Barons. _Alarums._ + + _Lan._ I wonder how he scaped! + + _Y. Mor._ Who's this, the queen? + + _Queen._ I, Mortimer, the miserable queen, + Whose pining heart her inward sighs have blasted, + And body with continual mourning wasted: + These hands are tired with haling of my lord + From Gaveston, from wicked Gaveston, + And all in vain; for, when I speak him fair, + He turns away, and smiles upon his minion. + + _Y. Mor._ Cease to lament, and tell us where's the king? + + _Queen._ What would you with the king? is't him you seek? 30 + + _Lan._ No, madam, but that cursèd Gaveston. + Far be it from the thought of Lancaster + To offer violence to his sovereign. + We would but rid the realm of Gaveston: + Tell us where he remains, and he shall die. + + _Queen._ He's gone by water unto Scarborough; + Pursue him quickly, and he cannot scape; + The king hath left him, and his train is small. + + _War._ Foreslow[243] no time, sweet Lancaster, let's march. + + _Y. Mor._ How comes it that the king and he is parted? 40 + + _Queen._ That thus[244] your army, going several ways, + Might be of lesser force: and with the power + That he intendeth presently to raise, + Be easily suppressed; therefore[245] be gone. + + _Y. Mor._ Here in the river rides a Flemish hoy; + Let's all aboard, and follow him amain. + + _Lan._ The wind that bears him hence will fill our sails: + Come, come aboard, 'tis but an hour's sailing. + + _Y. Mor._ Madam, stay you within this castle here. + + _Queen._ No, Mortimer, I'll to my lord the king. 50 + + _Y. Mor._ Nay, rather sail with us to Scarborough. + + _Queen._ You know the king is so suspicious, + As if he hear I have but talked with you, + Mine honour will be called in question; + And therefore, gentle Mortimer, be gone. + + _Y. Mor._ Madam, I cannot stay to answer you, + But think of Mortimer as he deserves. + [_Exeunt_ Barons. + + _Queen._ So well hast thou deserved, sweet Mortimer, + As Isabel could live with thee for ever. + In vain I look for love at Edward's hand, 60 + Whose eyes are fixed on none but Gaveston: + Yet once more I'll importune him with prayer, + If he be strange and not regard my words, + My son and I will over into France, + And to the king my brother there complain, + How Gaveston hath robbed me of his love: + But yet I hope my sorrows will have end, + And Gaveston this blessèd day be slain. + [_Exit._ + + + SCENE V. + + _Enter_[246] GAVESTON, _pursued._ + + _Gav._ Yet, lusty lords, I have escaped your hands, + Your threats, your larums, and your hot pursuits; + And though divorcèd from King Edward's eyes, + Yet liveth Pierce of Gaveston unsurprised, + Breathing, in hope (malgrado[247] all your beards, + That muster rebels thus against your king), + To see[248] his royal sovereign once again. + + _Enter the_ Nobles. + + _War._ Upon him, soldiers, take away his weapons. + + _Y. Mor._ Thou proud disturber of thy country's peace, + Corrupter of thy king; cause of these broils, 10 + Base flatterer, yield! and were it not for shame, + Shame and dishonour to a soldier's name, + Upon my weapons point here should'st thou fall, + And welter in thy gore. + + _Lan._ Monster of men! + That, like the Greekish strumpet, trained to arms + And bloody wars so many valiant knights, + Look for no other fortune, wretch, than death! + King Edward is not here to buckler thee. + + _War._ Lancaster, why talk'st thou to the slave? + + Go, soldiers, take him hence, for by my sword 20 + His head shall off: Gaveston, short warning + Shall serve thy turn. It is our country's cause, + That here severely we will execute + Upon thy person: hang him at a bough. + + _Gav._ My lords!-- + + _War._ Soldiers, have him away;-- + But for thou wert the favourite of a king, + Thou shalt have so much honour at our hands[249]-- + + _Gav._ I thank you all, my lords: then I perceive, + That heading is one, and hanging is the other, + And death is all. + + _Enter_ Earl of ARUNDEL. + + _Lan._ How now, my lord of Arundel? 30 + + _Arun._ My lords, King Edward greets you all by me. + + _War._ Arundel, say your message. + + _Arun._ His majesty, + Hearing that you had taken Gaveston, + Intreateth you by me, but that he may + See him before he dies; for why, he says, + And sends you word, he knows that die he shall; + And if you gratify his grace so far, + He will be mindful of the courtesy. + + _War._ How now? + + _Gav._ Renownèd Edward, how thy name + Revives poor Gaveston! + + _War._ No, it needeth not; 40 + Arundel, we will gratify the king + In other matters; he must pardon us in this. + Soldiers, away with him! + + _Gav._ Why, my lord of Warwick, + Will not these delays beget my hopes?[250] + I know it, lords, it is this life you aim at, + Yet grant King Edward this. + + _Y. Mor._ Shalt thou appoint + What we shall grant? Soldiers, away with him: + Thus we'll gratify the king, + We'll send his head by thee; let him bestow + His tears on that, for that is all he gets 50 + Of Gaveston, or else his senseless trunk. + + _Lan._ Not so, my lords, lest he bestow more cost + In burying him than he hath ever earned. + + _Arun._ My lords, it is his Majesty's request. + And in the honour of a king he swears, + He will but talk with him, and send him back. + + _War._ When? can you tell?[251] Arundel, no; we wot. + He that the care of his[252] realm remits, + And drives his nobles to these exigents + For Gaveston, will, if he seize[253] him once, 60 + Violate any promise to possess him. + + _Arun._ Then if you will not trust his grace in keep, + My lords, I will be pledge for his return. + + _Y. Mor._ 'Tis[254] honourable in thee to offer this; + But for we know thou art a noble gentleman, + We will not wrong thee so, to make away + A true man for a thief. + + _Gav._ How mean'st thou, Mortimer? that is over-base. + + _Y. Mor._ Away, base groom, robber of king's renown, + Question with thy companions and mates. 70 + + _Pem._ My Lord Mortimer, and you, my lords, each one, + To gratify the king's request therein. + Touching the sending of this Gaveston, + Because his majesty so earnestly + Desires to see the man before his death, + I will upon mine honour undertake + To carry him, and bring him back again; + Provided this, that you my lord of Arundel + Will join with me. + + _War._ Pembroke, what wilt thou do? + Cause yet more bloodshed? is it not enough 80 + That we have taken him, but must we now + Leave him on "had I wist,"[255] and let him go? + + _Pem._ My lords, I will not over-woo your honours, + But if you dare trust Pembroke with the prisoner, + Upon mine oath, I will return him back. + + _Arun._ My lord of Lancaster, what say you in this? + + _Lan._ Why, I say, let him go on Pembroke's word. + + _Pem._ And you, Lord Mortimer? + + _Y. Mor._ How say you, my lord of Warwick? + + _War._ Nay, do your pleasures, I know how 'twill prove. + + _Pem._ Then give him me. + + _Gav._ Sweet sovereign, yet I come 90 + To see thee ere I die. + + _War._ Yet not perhaps, + If Warwick's wit and policy prevail. [_Aside._ + + _Y. Mor._ My lord of Pembroke, we deliver him you; + Return him on your honour. Sound, away! + [_Exeunt all but_ PEMBROKE, ARUNDEL,[256] + GAVESTON, _and_ PEMBROKE'S men. + + _Pem._ My lord [of Arundel], you shall go with me. + My house is not far hence; out of the way + A little, but our men shall go along. + We that have pretty wenches to our wives, + Sir, must not come so near to baulk their lips. + + _Arun._ 'Tis very kindly spoke, my lord of Pembroke; 100 + Your honour hath an adamant of power + To draw a prince. + + _Pem._ So, my lord. Come hither, James + I do commit this Gaveston to thee, + Be thou this night his keeper, in the morning + We will discharge thee of thy charge: be gone. + + _Gav._ Unhappy Gaveston, whither goest thou now? + [_Exit with_ JAMES _and_ PEMBROKE'S men. + + _Horse-boy._ My lord, we'll quickly be at Cobham. + [_Exeunt._ + + + + + ACT THE THIRD. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter[257]_ GAVESTON _mourning_, JAMES, _and the_ + EARL of PEMBROKE'S men. + + _Gav._ O treacherous Warwick! thus to wrong thy friend. + + _James._ I see it is your life these arms pursue. + + _Gav._ Weaponless must I fall, and die in bands? + O! must this day be period of my life? + Centre of all my bliss! An ye be men, + Speed to the king. + + _Enter_ WARWICK _and his company._ + + _War._ My lord of Pembroke's men, + Strive you no longer--I will have that Gaveston. + + _James._ Your lordship does dishonour to yourself, + And wrong our lord, your honourable friend. + + _War._ No, James, it is my country's cause I follow. 10 + Go, take the villain; soldiers, come away. + We'll make quick work. Commend me to your master, + + + My friend, and tell him that I watched it well. + Come, let thy shadow[258] parley with King Edward. + + _Gav._ Treacherous earl, shall I not see the king? + + _War._ The king of Heaven perhaps, no other king. Away! + [_Exeunt_ WARWICK _and his_ Men _with_ GAVESTON. + _James._ Come, fellows, it booted not for us to strive, + We will in haste go certify our lord. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_[259] KING EDWARD _and_ YOUNG SPENCER, BALDOCK, + _and_ Nobles _of the king's side, with drums and fifes_. + + _Edw._ I long to hear an answer from the barons + Touching my friend, my dearest Gaveston. + Ah! Spencer, not the riches of my realm + Can ransom him! ah, he is marked to die! + I know the malice of the younger Mortimer, + Warwick I know is rough, and Lancaster + Inexorable, and I shall never see + My lovely Pierce of Gaveston again! + The barons overbear me with their pride. + + _Y. Spen._ Were I King Edward, England's sovereign, 10 + Son to the lovely Eleanor of Spain, + Great Edward Longshanks' issue, would I bear + These braves,[260] this rage, and suffer uncontrolled + These barons thus to beard me in my land, + In mine own realm? My lord, pardon my speech, + Did you retain your father's magnanimity, + Did you regard the honour of your name, + You would not suffer thus your majesty + Be counterbuft of your nobility. + Strike off their heads, and let them preach on poles! 20 + No doubt, such lessons they will teach the rest, + As by their preachments they will profit much, + And learn obedience to their lawful king. + + _Edw._ Yea, gentle Spencer, we have been too mild, + Too kind to them; but now have drawn our sword, + And if they send me not my Gaveston, + We'll steel it on their crest, and poll their tops. + + _Bald._ This haught[261] resolve becomes your majesty + Not to be tied to their affection, + As though your highness were a schoolboy still, 30 + And must be awed and governed like a child. + + _Enter_ HUGH SPENCER, _father to the_ YOUNG SPENCER, + _with his truncheon and_ Soldiers. + + _O. Spen._ Long live my sovereign, the noble Edward-- + In peace triumphant, fortunate in wars! + + _Edw._ Welcome, old man, com'st thou in Edward's aid? + Then tell thy[262] prince of whence, and what thou art. + + _O. Spen._ Lo, with a band of bowmen and of pikes, + Brown bills and targeteers, four hundred strong, + Sworn to defend King Edward's royal right, + I come in person to your majesty, + Spencer, the father of Hugh Spencer there, 40 + Bound to your highness everlastingly, + For favour done, in him, unto us all. + + _Edw._ Thy father, Spencer? + + _Y. Spen._ True, an it like your grace, + That pours, in lieu of all your goodness shown, + His life, my lord, before your princely feet. + + _Edw._ Welcome ten thousand times, old man, again. + Spencer, this love, this kindness to thy king, + Argues thy noble mind and disposition. + Spencer, I here create thee Earl of Wiltshire, + And daily will enrich thee with our favour, 50 + That, as the sunshine, shall reflect o'er thee. + Beside, the more to manifest our love, + Because we hear Lord Bruce doth sell his land, + And that the Mortimers are in hand withal, + Thou shalt have crowns of us t'outbid the barons + And, Spencer, spare them not, lay it on. + Soldiers, a largess, and thrice welcome all! + + _Y. Spen._ My lord, here comes[263] the queen. + + _Enter the_ QUEEN _and her_ Son, _and_ LEVUNE, + _a Frenchman._ + + _Edw._ Madam, what news? + + _Queen._ News of dishonour, lord, and discontent. + Our friend Levune, faithful and full of trust, 60 + Informeth us, by letters and by words, + That Lord Valois our brother, King of France, + Because your highness hath been slack in homage, + Hath seizèd Normandy into his hands. + These be the letters, this the messenger. + + _Edw._ Welcome, Levune. Tush, Sib, if this be all, + Valois and I will soon be friends again.-- + But to my Gaveston; shall I never see, + Never behold thee now?[264]--Madam, in this matter, + We will employ you and your little son; 70 + You shall go parley with the King of France. + Boy, see you bear you bravely to the king. + And do your message with a majesty. + + _Prince._ Commit not to my youth things of more weight + Than fits a prince so young as I to bear, + And fear not, lord and father, heaven's great beams + On Atlas' shoulder shall not lie more safe, + Than shall your charge committed to my trust. + + _Queen._ Ah, boy! this towardness makes thy mother fear + Thou art not marked to many days on earth. 80 + + _Edw._ Madam, we will that you with speed be shipped, + And this our son; Levune shall follow you + With all the haste we can despatch him hence. + Chuse of our lords to bear you company; + And go in peace, leave us in wars at home. + + _Queen._ Unnatural wars, where subjects brave their king; + God end them once! My lord, I take my leave, + To make my preparation for France. [_Exit with_ Prince. + + _Enter_ ARUNDEL. + + _Edw._ What, Lord Arundel, dost thou come alone? + + _Arun._ Yea, my good lord, for Gaveston is dead. 90 + + _Edw._ Ah, traitors! have they put my friend to death? + Tell me, Arundel, died he ere thou cam'st, + Or didst thou see my friend to take his death? + + _Arun._ Neither, my lord; for as he was surprised, + Begirt with weapons and with enemies round, + I did your highness' message to them all; + Demanding him of them, entreating rather, + And said, upon the honour of my name, + That I would undertake to carry him + Unto your highness, and to bring him back. 100 + + _Edw._ And tell me, would the rebels deny me that? + + _Y. Spen._ Proud recreants! + + _Edw._ Yea, Spencer, traitors all. + + _Arun._ I found them at the first inexorable; + The Earl of Warwick would not bide the hearing, + Mortimer hardly, Pembroke and Lancaster + Spake least: and when they flatly had denied, + Refusing to receive my pledge for him, + The Earl of Pembroke mildly thus bespake; + "My lord, because our sovereign sends for him, + And promiseth he shall be safe returned, 110 + I will this undertake, to have him hence, + And see him re-delivered to your hands." + + _Edw._ Well, and how fortunes [it] that he came not? + + _Y. Spen._ Some treason, or some villany, was the cause. + + _Arun._ The Earl of Warwick seized him on his way; + For being delivered unto Pembroke's men, + Their lord rode home thinking his prisoner safe; + But ere he came, Warwick in ambush lay, + And bare him to his death; and in a trench + Strake off his head, and marched unto the camp. 120 + + _Y. Spen._ A bloody part, flatly 'gainst law of arms. + + _Edw._ O shall I speak, or shall I sigh and die! + + _Y. Spen._ My lord, refer your vengeance to the sword + Upon these barons; hearten up your men; + Let them not unrevenged murder your friends! + Advance your standard, Edward, in the field, + And march to fire them from their starting holes. + [EDWARD _kneels_. + + _Edw._ By earth, the common mother of us all, + By heaven, and all the moving orbs thereof, + By this right hand, and by my father's sword, 130 + And all the honours 'longing to my crown, + I will have heads, and lives for him, as many + As I have manors, castles, towns, and towers! [_Rises._ + Treacherous Warwick! traitorous Mortimer! + If I be England's king, in lakes of gore + Your headless trunks, your bodies will I trail, + That you may drink your fill, and quaff in blood, + And stain my royal standard with the same, + That so my bloody colours may suggest + Remembrance of revenge immortally 140 + On your accursèd traitorous progeny, + You villains, that have slain my Gaveston! + And in his place of honour and of trust, + Spencer, sweet Spencer, I adopt thee here: + And merely of our love we do create thee + Earl of Gloucester, and Lord Chamberlain, + Despite of times, despite of enemies. + + _Y. Spen._ My Lord, here is[265] a messenger from the barons + Desires access unto your majesty. + + _Edw._ Admit him near. 150 + + _Enter the_ Herald _from the_ Barons, + _with his coat of arms._ + + _Her._ Long live King Edward, England's lawful lord! + + _Edw._ So wish not they, I wis, that sent thee hither. + Thou com'st from Mortimer and his complices, + A ranker rout[266] of rebels never was. + Well, say thy message. + + _Her._ The barons up in arms, by me salute + Your highness with long life and happiness; + And bid me say, as plainer to your grace, + That if without effusion of blood + You will this grief have ease and remedy, 160 + That from your princely person you remove + This Spencer, as a putrefying branch, + That deads the royal vine, whose golden leaves[267] + Empale your princely head, your diadem, + Whose brightness such pernicious upstarts dim, + Say they; and lovingly advise your grace, + To cherish virtue and nobility, + And have old servitors in high esteem, + And shake off smooth dissembling flatterers: + This granted, they, their honours, and their lives, 170 + Are to your highness vowed and consecrate. + + _Y. Spen._ Ah, traitors! will they still display their pride? + + _Edw._ Away, tarry no answer, but be gone! + Rebels, will they appoint their sovereign + His sports, his pleasures, and his company? + Yet, ere thou go, see how I do divorce [_Embraces_ SPENCER. + Spencer from me.--Now get thee to thy lords, + And tell them I will come to chastise them + For murdering Gaveston; hie thee, get thee gone! + Edward with fire and sword follows at thy heels. 180 + My lord[s], perceive you how these rebels swell? + Soldiers, good hearts, defend your sovereign's right, + For now, even now, we march to make them stoop. + Away! + [_Exeunt. Alarums, excursions, a great fight, and a retreat._ + + + SCENE III. + + _Enter the_ KING, OLD SPENCER, YOUNG SPENCER, + _and the_ Noblemen _of the_ KING'S _side_. + + _Edw._ Why do we sound retreat? upon them, lords! + This day I shall pour vengeance with my sword + On those proud rebels that are up in arms, + And do confront and countermand their king. + + _Y. Spen._ I doubt it not, my lord, right will prevail. + + _O. Spen._ 'Tis not amiss, my liege, for either part + To breathe awhile; our men, with sweat and dust + All choked well near, begin to faint for heat; + And this retire refresheth horse and man. + + _Y. Spen._ Here come the rebels. 10 + + _Enter_ YOUNG MORTIMER, LANCASTER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, _&c_. + + _E. Mor._ Look, Lancaster, yonder is Edward + Among his flatterers. + + _Lan._ And there let him be + Till he pay dearly for their company. + + _War._ And shall, or Warwick's sword shall smite in vain. + + _Edw._ What, rebels, do you shrink and sound retreat? + + _Y. Mor._ No, Edward, no, thy flatterers faint and fly. + + _Lan._ They'd best betimes forsake thee, and their trains,[268] + For they'll betray thee, traitors as they are. + + _Y. Spen._ Traitor on thy face, rebellious Lancaster! + + _Pem._ Away, base upstart, bravest thou nobles thus? 20 + + _O. Spen._ A noble attempt, and honourable deed, + Is[269] it not, trow ye, to assemble aid, + And levy arms against your lawful king! + + _Edw._ For which ere long their heads shall satisfy, + To appease the wrath of their offended king. + + _Y. Mor._ Then, Edward, thou wilt fight it to the last, + And rather bathe thy sword in subjects' blood, + Than banish that pernicious company? + + _Edw._ I, traitors all, rather than thus be braved, + Make England's civil towns huge heaps of stones, 30 + And ploughs to go about our palace-gates. + + _War._ A desperate and unnatural resolution! + Alarum!--to the fight! + St. George for England, and the barons' right. + + _Edw._ St. George for England, and King Edward's right. + [_Alarums. Exeunt._ + + _Re-enter_ EDWARD _and his followers, with the_ + Barons _and_ KENT, _captives._ + + _Edw._ Now, lusty lords, now, not by chance of war, + But justice of the quarrel and the cause, + Vailed is your pride; methinks you hang the heads, + But we'll advance them, traitors; now 'tis time + To be avenged on you for all your braves, 40 + And for the murder of my dearest friend, + To whom right well you knew our soul was knit, + Good Pierce of Gaveston, my sweet favourite: + Ah, rebels! recreants! you made him away. + + _Kent._ Brother, in regard of thee, and of thy land, + Did they remove that flatterer from thy throne. + + _Edw._ So, sir, you have spoke; away, avoid our presence. + [_Exit_ KENT. + Accursèd wretches, was't in regard of us, + When we had sent our messenger to request + He might be spared to come to speak with us, 50 + And Pembroke undertook for his return, + That thou, proud Warwick, watched the prisoner, + Poor Pierce, and headed him 'gainst law of arms; + For which thy head shall overlook the rest, + As much as thou in rage outwent'st the rest. + + _War._ Tyrant, I scorn thy threats and menaces, + It is but temporal that thou canst inflict. + + _Lan._ The worst is death, and better die to live + Than live in infamy under such a king. + + _Edw._ Away with them, my lord of Winchester! 60 + These lusty leaders, Warwick and Lancaster, + I charge you roundly--off with both their heads! + Away! + + _War._ Farewell, vain world! + + _Lan._ Sweet Mortimer, farewell. + + _Y. Mor._ England, unkind to thy nobility, + Groan for this grief, behold how thou art maimed! + + _Edw._ Go, take that haughty Mortimer to the Tower, + There see him safe bestowed; and for the rest, + Do speedy execution on them all. + Begone! 70 + + _Y. Mor._ What, Mortimer! can ragged stony walls + Immure thy virtue that aspires to heaven? + No, Edward, England's scourge, it may not be, + Mortimer's hope surmounts his fortune far. + [_The captive_ Barons _are led off._ + + _Edw._. Sound drums and trumpets! March with me, my friends, + Edward this day hath crowned him king anew. + [_Exeunt all except_ YOUNG SPENCER, LEVUNE, _and_ BALDOCK. + + _Y. Spen._ Levune, the trust that we repose in thee, + Begets the quiet of King Edward's land. + Therefore begone in haste, and with advice + Bestow that pleasure on the lords of France, 80 + That, therewith all enchanted, like the guard + That suffered Jove to pass in showers of gold + To Danae, all aid may be denied + To Isabel, the queen, that now in France + Makes friends, to cross the seas with her young son, + And step into his father's regiment.[270] + + _Levune._ That's it these barons and the subtle queen + Long levelled[271] at. + + _Bal._ Yea, but, Levune, thou seest + These barons lay their heads on blocks together; + What they intend, the hangman frustrates clean. 90 + + _Levune._ Have you no doubt, my lords, I'll clap[272] so close + Among the lords of France with England's gold, + That Isabel shall make her plaints in vain, + And France shall be obdurate with her tears. + + _Y. Spen._ Then make for France, amain--Levune, away! + Proclaim King Edward's wars and victories. + [_Exeunt omnes._ + + + + + ACT THE FOURTH. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_[273] KENT. + + _Kent._ Fair blows the wind for France; blow gentle gale, + Till Edmund be arrived for England's good! + Nature, yield to my country's cause in this. + A brother? no, a butcher of thy friends! + Proud Edward, dost thou banish me thy presence? + But I'll to France, and cheer the wrongèd queen, + And certify what Edward's looseness is. + Unnatural king! to slaughter noblemen + And cherish flatterers! Mortimer, I stay + Thy sweet escape; stand gracious, gloomy night, 10 + To his device. + + _Enter_ YOUNG MORTIMER, _disguised._ + + _Y. Mor._ Holla! who walketh there? + Is't you, my lord? + + _Kent._ Mortimer, 'tis I; + But hath thy portion wrought so happily? + + _Y. Mor._ It hath, my lord; the warders all asleep, + I thank them, gave me leave to pass in peace. + But hath your grace got shipping unto France? + + _Kent._ Fear it not. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_[274] _the_ QUEEN _and her_ Son. + + _Queen._ Ah, boy! our friends do fail us all in France: + The lords are cruel, and the king unkind; + What shall we do?[275] + + _Prince._ Madam, return to England, + And please my father well, and then a fig + For all my uncle's friendship here in France. + I warrant you, I'll win his highness quickly; + He loves me better than a thousand Spencers. + + _Queen._ Ah, boy, thou art deceived, at least in this, + To think that we can yet be tuned together; + No, no, we jar too far. Unkind Valois! 10 + Unhappy Isabel! when France rejects, + Whither, oh! whither dost thou bend thy steps? + + _Enter_ SIR JOHN _of_ Hainault. + + _Sir J._ Madam, what cheer? + + _Queen._ Ah! good Sir John of Hainault, + Never so cheerless, nor so far distrest. + + _Sir J._ I hear, sweet lady, of the king's unkindness; + But droop not, madam; noble minds contemn + + Despair: will your grace with me to Hainault, + And there stay time's advantage with your son? + How say you, my lord, will you go with your friends, + And shake off all our fortunes equally? 20 + + _Prince._ So pleaseth[276] the queen, my mother, me it likes: + The king of England, nor the court of France, + Shall have me from my gracious mother's side, + Till I be strong enough to break a staff; + And then have at the proudest Spencer's head. + + _Sir J._ Well said, my lord. + + _Queen._ O, my sweet heart, how do I moan thy wrongs, + Yet triumph in the hope of thee, my joy! + Ah, sweet Sir John! even to the utmost verge + Of Europe, or[277] the shore of Tanais, 30 + We will with thee to Hainault--so we will:-- + The marquis is a noble gentleman; + His grace, I dare presume, will welcome me. + But who are these? + + _Enter_ KENT _and_ YOUNG MORTIMER. + + _Kent._ Madam, long may you live, + Much happier than your friends in England do! + + _Queen._ Lord Edmund and Lord Mortimer alive! + Welcome to France! the news was here, my lord, + That you were dead, or very near your death. + + _Y. Mor._ Lady, the last was truest of the twain: + But Mortimer, reserved for better hap, 40 + Hath shaken off the thraldom of the Tower, + And lives t' advance your standard, good my lord. + + _Prince._ How mean you? and the king, my father, lives! + No, my Lord Mortimer, not I, I trow. + + _Queen._ Not, son; why not? I would it were no worse. + But, gentle lords, friendless we are in France. + + _Y. Mor._ Monsieur le Grand, a noble friend of yours, + Told us, at our arrival, all the news; + How hard the nobles, how unkind the king + Hath showed himself; but, madam, right makes room 50 + Where weapons want; and, though so many friends + Are made away, as Warwick, Lancaster, + And others of our party[278] and faction; + Yet have we friends, assure your grace, in England + Would cast up caps, and clap their hands for joy, + To see us there, appointed[279] for our foes. + + _Kent._ Would all were well, and Edward well reclaimed, + For England's honour, peace, and quietness. + + _Y. Mor._ But by the sword, my lord, 't must be deserved;[280] + The king will ne'er forsake his flatterers. 60 + + _Sir J._ My lords of England, sith th' ungentle king + Of France refuseth to give aid of arms + To this distressèd queen his sister here, + Go you with her to Hainault; doubt ye not, + We will find comfort, money, men and friends + Ere long, to bid the English king a base.[281] + How say, young prince? what think you of the match? + + _Prince._ I think King Edward will outrun us all. + + _Queen._ Nay, son, not so; and you must not discourage + Your friends, that are so forward in your aid. 70 + + _Kent._ Sir John of Hainault, pardon us, I pray; + These comforts that you give our woful queen + Bind us in kindness all at your command. + + _Queen._ Yea, gentle brother; and the God of heaven + Prosper your happy motion, good Sir John. + + _Y. Mor._ This noble gentleman, forward in arms, + Was born, I see, to be our anchor-hold. + Sir John of Hainault, be it thy renown, + That England's queen, and nobles in distress, + Have been by thee restored and comforted. 80 + + _Sir. J._ Madam, along, and you my lord[s], with me, + That England's peers may Hainault's welcome see. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE III. + + _Enter_[282] _the_ KING, ARUNDEL,[283] _the two_ SPENCERS, + _with others._ + + _Edw._ Thus after many threats of wrathful war, + Triumpheth England's Edward with his friends; + And triumph, Edward, with his friends uncontrolled! + My lord of Gloucester, do you hear the news? + + _Y. Spen._ What news, my lord? + + _Edw._ Why, man, they say there is great execution + Done through the realm; my lord of Arundel, + You have the note, have you not? + + _Arun._[284] From the lieutenant of the Tower, my lord. + + _Edw._ I pray let us see it. What have we there? 10 + Read it, Spencer. [SPENCER _reads their names._ + Why so; they barked apace a month[285] ago: + Now, on my life, they'll neither bark nor bite. + Now, sirs, the news from France? Gloucester, I trow, + The lords of France love England's gold so well, + As Isabella[286] gets no aid from thence. + What now remains; have you proclaimed, my lord, + Reward for them can bring in Mortimer? + + _Y. Spen._ My lord, we have; and if he be in England, + 'A will be had ere long, I doubt it not. 20 + + _Edw._ If, dost thou say? Spencer, as true as death, + He is in England's ground; our portmasters + Are not so careless of their king's command. + + _Enter a_ Messenger. + + How now, what news with thee? from whence come these? + + _Mes._ Letters, my lord, and tidings forth of France, + To you, my lord of Gloucester, from Levune. + + _Edw._ Read. [SPENCER _reads the letter._] + + "_My duty to your honour premised, &c., I have, according to + instructions in that behalf, dealt with the King of France his lords, + and effected, that the queen, all discontented and discomforted, is + gone. Whither, if you ask, with Sir John of Hainault, brother to the + marquis, into Flanders: with them are gone Lord Edmund, and the + Lord Mortimer, having in their company divers of your nation, and + others; and, as constant report goeth, they intend to give King Edward + battle in England, sooner than he can look for them: this is + all the news of import._ + _Your honour's in all service,_ LEVUNE." 36 + + _Edw._ Ah, villains! hath that Mortimer escaped? + With him is Edmund gone associate? + And will Sir John of Hainault lead the round? + Welcome, a God's name, madam, and your son; 40 + England shall welcome you and all your rout. + Gallop apace[287] bright Phoebus, through the sky, + And dusky night, in rusty iron car, + Between you both shorten the time, I pray, + That I may see that most desirèd day, + When we may meet those traitors in the field. + Ah, nothing grieves me, but my little boy + Is thus misled to countenance their ills. + Come, friends, to Bristow, there to make us strong; + And, winds, as equal be to bring them in, 50 + As you injurious were to bear them forth! + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE IV. + + _Enter_[288] _the_ QUEEN, _her_ Son, KENT, MORTIMER, + _and_ SIR JOHN HAINAULT. + + _Queen._ Now, lords, our loving friends and countrymen, + Welcome to England all, with prosperous winds; + Our kindest friends in Belgia have we left, + To cope with friends at home; a heavy case + When force to force is knit, and sword and glaive + In civil broils make kin and countrymen + Slaughter themselves in others, and their sides + With their own weapons gored! But what's the help? + Misgoverned kings are cause of all this wreck; + And, Edward, thou art one among them all, 10 + Whose looseness hath betrayed thy land to spoil, + Who made the channel[289] overflow with blood + Of thine own people; patron shouldst thou be, + But thou---- + + _Y. Mor._ Nay, madam, if you be a warrior, + You must not grow so passionate in speeches. + Lords, + Sith that we are by sufferance of heaven + Arrived, and armèd in this prince's right, + Here for our country's cause swear we to him 20 + All homage, fealty, and forwardness; + And for the open wrongs and injuries + Edward hath done to us, his queen and land, + We come in arms to wreak it with the sword; + That England's queen in peace may repossess + Her dignities and honours: and withal + We may remove these flatterers from the king, + That havoc England's wealth and treasury. + + _Sir. J._ Sound trumpets, my lord, and forward let us march. + Edward will think we come to flatter him. 30 + + _Kent._ I would he never had been flattered more! + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE V. + + _Enter_[290] _the_ KING, BALDOCK, _and_ YOUNG SPENCER, + _flying about the stage._ + + _Y. Spen._ Fly, fly, my lord! the queen is over-strong; + Her friends do multiply, and yours do fail. + Shape we our course to Ireland, there to breathe. + + _Edw._ What! was I born to fly and run away, + And leave the Mortimers conquerors behind? + Give me my horse, and let's re'nforce our troops: + And in this bed of honour die with fame. + + _Bald._ O no, my lord, this princely resolution + Fits not the time; away, we are pursued. [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter_ KENT _alone, with his sword and target._ + + _Kent._ This way he fled, but I am come too late. 10 + Edward, alas! my heart relents for thee. + Proud traitor, Mortimer, why dost thou chase + Thy lawful king, thy sovereign, with thy sword? + Vild wretch! and why hast thou, of all unkind, + Borne arms against thy brother and thy king? + Rain showers of vengeance on my cursèd head, + Thou God, to whom in justice it belongs + To punish this unnatural revolt! + Edward, this Mortimer aims at thy life! + O fly him, then! but, Edmund, calm this rage, 20 + Dissemble, or thou diest; for Mortimer + And Isabel do kiss, while they conspire: + And yet she bears a face of love forsooth. + Fie on that love that hatcheth death and hate! + Edmund, away; Bristow to Longshanks' blood + Is false; be not found single for suspect: + Proud Mortimer pries near unto thy walks. + + _Enter the_ QUEEN, MORTIMER, _the_ Young Prince, + _and_ SIR JOHN OF HAINAULT. + + _Queen._ Successful[291] battle gives the God of kings + To them that fight in right, and fear his wrath. + Since then successfully we have prevailed, 30 + Thankèd be heaven's great architect, and you. + Ere farther we proceed, my noble lords, + We here create our well-belovèd son, + Of love and care unto his royal person, + Lord Warden of the realm, and sith the fates + Have made his father so infortunate, + Deal you, my lords, in this, my loving lords, + As to your wisdoms fittest seems in all. + + _Kent._ Madam, without offence, if I may ask, + How will you deal with Edward in his fall? 40 + + _Prince._ Tell me, good uncle, what Edward do you mean? + + _Kent._ Nephew, your father: I dare not call him king. + + _Mor._ My lord of Kent, what needs these questions? + 'Tis not in her controlment, nor in ours, + But as the realm and parliament shall please, + So shall your brother be disposèd of.-- + I like not this relenting mood in Edmund. + Madam, 'tis good to look to him betimes. [_Aside to the_ QUEEN. + + _Queen._ My lord, the Mayor of Bristow knows our mind. + + _Y. Mor._ Yea, madam, and they scape not easily 50 + That fled the field. + + _Queen._ Baldock is with the king. + A goodly chancellor, is he not, my lord? + + _Sir J._ So are the Spencers, the father and the son. + + _Kent._[292] This Edward is the ruin of the realm. + + _Enter_ RICE AP HOWELL, _and the_ MAYOR OF BRISTOW, + _with_ OLD SPENCER _prisoner._ + + _Rice._ God save queen Isabel, and her princely son! + Madam, the mayor and citizens of Bristow, + In sign of love and duty to this presence, + Present by me this traitor to the state, + Spencer, the father to that wanton Spencer, + That, like the lawless Catiline of Rome, 60 + Revelled in England's wealth and treasury. + + _Queen._ We thank you all. + + _Y. Mor._ Your loving care in this + Deserveth princely favours and rewards. + But where's the king and the other Spencer fled? + + _Rice._ Spencer the son, created Earl of Gloucester, + Is with that smooth-tongued scholar Baldock gone, + And shipped but late for Ireland with the king. + + _Y. Mor._ Some whirlwind fetch them back or sink them all! + [_Aside._ + They shall be started thence, I doubt it not. + + _Prince._ Shall I not see the king my father yet? 70 + + _Kent._ Unhappy 's Edward, chased from England's bounds. + [_Aside._ + _Sir. J._ Madam, what resteth, why stand you in a muse? + + _Queen._ I rue my lord's ill-fortune; but alas! + Care of my country called me to this war. + + _Y. Mor._ Madam, have done with care and sad complaint; + Your King hath wronged your country and himself, + And we must seek to right it as we may. + Meanwhile, have hence this rebel to the block. + + _O. Spen._ Rebel is he that fights against the prince; + So fought not they that fought in Edward's right. 80 + + _Y. Mor._ Take him away, he prates; you, Rice ap Howell, + Shall do good service to her majesty, + Being of countenance in your country here, + To follow these rebellious runagates. + We in meanwhile, madam, must take advice, + How Baldock, Spencer, and their complices, + May in their fall be followed to their end. + [_Exeunt Omnes._ + + + SCENE VI. + + _Enter_[293] _the_ Abbot, Monks, EDWARD, YOUNG SPENCER, + _and_ BALDOCK. + + _Abbot._ Have you no doubt, my lord; have you no fear; + As silent and as careful we will be, + To keep your royal person safe with us, + Free from suspect, and fell invasion + Of such as have your majesty in chase, + Yourself, and those your chosen company, + As danger of this stormy time requires. + + _Edw._ Father, thy face should harbour no deceit. + O! hadst thou ever been a king, thy heart, + Pierced deeply with [a] sense of my distress, 10 + Could not but take compassion of my state. + Stately and proud, in riches and in train, + Whilom I was, powerful, and full of pomp: + But what is he whom rule and empery + Have not in life or death made miserable? + Come, Spencer; come, Baldock, come, sit down by me; + Make trial now of that[294] philosophy, + That in our famous nurseries of arts + Thou suck'dst from Plato and from Aristotle. + Father, this life contemplative is heaven. 20 + O that I might this life in quiet lead! + But we, alas! are chased; and you, my friends, + Your lives and my dishonour they pursue. + Yet, gentle monks, for treasure, gold nor fee, + Do you betray us and our company. + + _Monk._ Your grace may sit secure, if none but we + Do wot of your abode. + + _Y. Spen._ Not one alive, but shrewdly I suspect + A gloomy fellow in a mead below. + 'A gave a long look after us, my lord, 30 + And all the land I know is up in arms, + Arms that pursue our lives with deadly hate. + + _Bald._ We were embarked for Ireland, wretched we! + With awkward winds and sore[295] tempests driven + To fall on shore, and here to pine in fear + Of Mortimer and his confederates. + + _Edw._ Mortimer! who talks of Mortimer? + Who wounds me with the name of Mortimer, + That bloody man? Good father, on thy lap + Lay I this head, laden with mickle care. 40 + O might I never ope[296] these eyes again! + Never again lift up this drooping head! + O never more lift up this dying heart! + + _Y. Spen._ Look up, my lord.--Baldock, this drowsiness + Betides no good; here even we are betrayed. + + _Enter, with Welsh hooks_, RICE AP HOWELL, _a_ Mower, + _and the_ EARL OF LEICESTER. + + _Mow._ Upon my life, these be the men ye seek. + + _Rice._ Fellow, enough.--My lord, I pray be short, + A fair commission warrants what we do. + + _Leices._ The queen's commission, urged by Mortimer; + What cannot gallant Mortimer with the queen? 50 + Alas! see where he sits, and hopes unseen + To escape their hands that seek to reave his life. + Too true it is, _Quem_[297] _dies vidit veniens superbum, + Hunc dies vidit fugiens jacentem._ + But, Leicester, leave to grow so passionate. + Spencer and Baldock, by no other names. + I [do] arrest you of high treason here. + Stand not on titles, but obey th' arrest; + 'Tis in the name of Isabel the queen. + My lord, why droop you thus? 60 + + _Edw._ O day the last of all my bliss on earth! + Centre of all misfortune! O my stars, + Why do you lour unkindly on a king? + Come[s] Leicester, then in Isabella's name + To take my life, my company from me? + Here, man, rip up this panting breast of mine, + And take my heart in rescue of my friends! + + _Rice._ Away with them! + + _Y. Spen._ It may become thee yet + To let us take our farewell of his grace. + + _Abbot._ My heart with pity earns[298] to see this sight, 70 + A king to bear these words and proud commands. + + _Edw._ Spencer, ah, sweet Spencer, thus then must we part? + + _Y. Spen._ We must, my lord, so will the angry heavens. + + _Edw._ Nay, so will hell and cruel Mortimer; + The gentle heavens have not to do in this. + + _Bald._ My lord, it is in vain to grieve or storm. + Here humbly of your grace we take our leaves; + Our lots are cast; I fear me, so is thine. + + _Edw._ In heaven we may, in earth ne'er shall we meet: + And, Leicester, say, what shall become of us? 80 + + _Leices._ Your majesty must go to Killingworth. + + _Edw._ Must! it is somewhat hard, when kings must go. + + _Leices._ Here is a litter ready for your grace, + That waits your pleasure, and the day grows old. + + _Rice._ As good be gone, as stay and be benighted. + + _Edw._ A litter hast thou? lay me in a hearse, + And to the gates of hell convey me hence; + Let Pluto's bells ring out my fatal knell, + And hags howl for my death at Charon's shore, + For friend hath Edward none, but these and these:[299] 90 + And these must die under a tyrant's sword. + + _Rice._ My lord, be going; care not for these, + For we shall see them shorter by the heads. + + _Edw._ Well, that shall be, shall be: part we must! + Sweet Spencer, gentle Baldock, part we must! + Hence feignèd weeds! unfeignèd are my woes; + [_Casts off his disguise._ + Father, farewell! Leicester, thou stay'st for me, + And go I must. Life, farewell, with my friends. + [_Exeunt_ EDWARD _and_ LEICESTER. + _Y. Spen._ O! is he gone? is noble Edward gone? + Parted from hence? never to see us more? 100 + Rent, sphere of heaven! and, fire, forsake thy orb! + Earth, melt to air! gone is my sovereign, + Gone, gone, alas! never to make return. + + _Bald._ Spencer, I see our souls are fleeting hence; + We are deprived the sunshine of our life: + Make for a new life, man; throw up thy eyes, + And heart and hands to heaven's immortal throne; + Pay nature's debt with cheerful countenance; + Reduce we all our lessons unto this, + To die, sweet Spencer, therefore live we all; 110 + Spencer, all live to die, and rise to fall. + + _Rice._[300] Come, come, keep these preachments till you + come to the place appointed. You, and such as you are, + have made wise work in England; will your lordships away? + + _Mow._ Your Lordship, I trust, will remember me? + + _Rice._ Remember thee? Fellow, what else? Follow me to the town. + [_Exeunt._ + + + + + ACT THE FIFTH. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_[301] _the_ KING, LEICESTER, + _the_ BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, _and_ TRUSSEL. + + _Leices._ Be patient, good my lord, cease to lament, + Imagine Killingworth Castle were your court, + And that you lay for pleasure here a space, + Not of compulsion or necessity. + + _Edw._ Leicester, if gentle words might comfort me, + Thy speeches long ago had eased my sorrows; + For kind and loving hast thou always been. + The griefs of private men are soon allayed, + But not of kings. The forest deer, being struck, + Runs to an herb[302] that closeth up the wounds; 10 + But, when the imperial lion's flesh is gored, + He rends and tears it with his wrathful paw, + [And] highly scorning that the lowly earth + Should drink his blood, mounts up to the air. + And so it fares with me, whose dauntless mind + The ambitious Mortimer would seek to curb, + And that unnatural queen, false Isabel, + That thus hath pent and mewed me in a prison; + For such outrageous passions cloy my soul, + As with the wings of rancour and disdain, 20 + Full oft[en] am I soaring up to heaven, + To plain me to the gods against them both. + But when I call to mind I am a king, + Methinks I should revenge me of my wrongs, + That Mortimer and Isabel have done. + But what are kings, when regiment[303] is gone, + But perfect shadows in a sunshine day? + My nobles rule, I bear the name of king; + I wear the crown, but am controlled by them, + By Mortimer, and my unconstant queen, 30 + Who spots my nuptial bed with infamy; + Whilst I am lodged within this cave of care, + Where sorrow at my elbow still attends, + To company my heart with sad laments, + That bleeds within me for this strange exchange. + But tell me, must I now resign my crown, + To make usurping Mortimer a king? + + _Winch._ Your grace mistakes, it is for England's good, + And princely Edward's right we crave the crown. + + _Edw._ No, 'tis for Mortimer, not Edward's head; 40 + For he's a lamb, encompassèd by wolves, + Which in a moment will abridge his life. + But if proud Mortimer do wear this crown, + Heaven turn it to a blaze of quenchless fire![304] + Or like the snaky wreath of Tisiphon, + Engirt the temples of his hateful head; + So shall not England's vine[305] be perished, + But Edward's name survives,[306] though Edward dies. + + _Leices._ My lord, why waste you thus the time away? + They stay your answer; will you yield your crown? 50 + + _Edw._ Ah, Leicester, weigh how hardly I can brook + To lose my crown and kingdom without cause; + To give ambitious Mortimer my right, + That like a mountain overwhelms my bliss, + In which extreme my mind here murdered is. + But what the heavens appoint, I must obey! + Here, take my crown; the life of Edward too; + [_Taking off the crown._ + Two kings in England cannot reign at once. + But stay awhile, let me be[307] king till night, + That I may gaze upon this glittering crown; 60 + So shall my eyes receive their last content, + My head, the latest honour due to it, + And jointly both yield up their wishèd right. + Continue ever thou celestial sun; + Let never silent night possess this clime: + Stand still you watches of the element; + All times and seasons, rest you at a stay, + That Edward may be still fair England's king! + But day's bright beam doth vanish fast away, + And needs I must resign my wishèd crown. 70 + Inhuman creatures! nursed with tiger's milk! + Why gape you for your sovereign's overthrow! + My diadem I mean, and guiltless life. + See, monsters, see, I'll wear my crown again! + [_He puts on the crown._ + What, fear you not the fury of your king? + But, hapless Edward, thou art fondly led, + They pass not for thy frowns as late they did, + But seek to make a new-elected king! + Which fills my mind with strange despairing thoughts, + Which thoughts are martyrèd with endless torments, 80 + And in this torment comfort find I none, + But that I feel the crown upon my head, + And therefore let me wear it yet awhile. + + _Trus_. My lord, the parliament must have present news, + And therefore say will you resign or no? + [_The_ KING _rageth._ + _Edw_. I'll not resign, but whilst I live[308] [be king]. + Traitors, be gone! and join you with Mortimer! + Elect, conspire, install, do what you will:-- + Their blood and yours shall seal these treacheries! + + _Winch._ This answer we'll return, and so farewell. 90 + + _Leices._ Call them again, my lord, and speak them fair; + For if they go, the prince shall lose his right. + + _Edw._ Call thou them back, I have no power to speak. + + _Leices._ My lord, the king is willing to resign. + + _Winch._ If he be not, let him choose. + + _Edw._ O would I might! but heavens and earth conspire + To make me miserable! Here receive my crown; + Receive it? no, these innocent hands of mine + Shall not be guilty of so foul a crime. + He of you all that most desires my blood, 100 + And will be called the murderer of a king, + Take it. What, are you moved? pity you me? + Then send for unrelenting Mortimer, + And Isabel, whose eyes, being turned to steel, + Will sooner sparkle fire than shed a tear. + Yet stay, for rather than I'll look on them, + Here, here! [_He gives them the crown._ + Now, sweet God of heaven, + Make me despise this transitory pomp, + And sit for aye enthronizèd in heaven! + Come, death, and with thy fingers close my eyes, 110 + Or if I live, let me forget myself.[309] + + _Winch._ My lord. + + _Edw._ Call me not lord; away--out of my sight: + Ah, pardon me: grief makes me lunatic! + Let not that Mortimer protect my son; + More safety there is in a tiger's jaws, + Than his embracements--bear this to the queen, + Wet with my tears, and dried again with sighs; + [_Gives a handkerchief._ + If with the sight thereof she be not moved, + Return it back and dip it in my blood. 120 + Commend me to my son, and bid him rule + Better than I. Yet how have I transgressed, + Unless it be with too much clemency? + + _Trus._ And thus most humbly do we take our leave. + [_Exeunt_ BISHOP _and_ TRUSSEL. + + _Edw._ Farewell; I know the next news that they bring + Will be my death; and welcome shall it be; + To wretched men, death is felicity. + + _Enter_ BERKELEY, _who gives a paper to_ LEICESTER. + + _Leices._ Another post! what news brings he? + + _Edw._ Such news as I expect--come, Berkeley, come, + And tell thy message to my naked breast. 130 + + _Berk._ My lord, think not a thought so villainous + Can harbour in a man of noble birth. + To do your highness service and devoir, + And save you from your foes, Berkeley would die. + + _Leices._ My lord, the council of[310] the queen commands + That I resign my charge. + + _Edw._ And who must keep me now? Must you, my lord? + + _Berk._ I, my most gracious lord--so 'tis decreed. + + _Edw._ [_taking the paper._] By Mortimer, whose name is + written here! + Well may I rent his name that rends my heart! 140 + [_Tears it._ + This poor revenge has something eased my mind. + So may his limbs be torn, as is this paper! + Hear me, immortal Jove, and grant it too! + + _Berk._ Your grace must hence with me to Berkeley straight. + + _Edw._ Whither you will, all places are alike, + And every earth is fit for burial. + + _Leices._ Favour him, my lord, as much as lieth in you. + + _Berk._ Even so betide my soul as I use him. + + _Edw._ Mine enemy hath pitied my estate, + And that's the cause that I am now removed. 150 + + _Berk._ And thinks your grace that Berkeley will be cruel? + + _Edw._ I know not; but of this am I assured, + That death ends all, and I can die but once. + Leicester, farewell! + + _Leices._ Not yet, my lord; I'll bear you on your way. + [_Exeunt omnes._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_[311] MORTIMER _and_ QUEEN ISABEL. + + _Y. Mor._ Fair Isabel, now have we our desire, + The proud corrupters of the light-brained king + Have done their homage to the lofty gallows, + And he himself lies in captivity. + Be ruled by me, and we will rule the realm. + In any case take heed of childish fear, + For now we hold an old wolf[312] by the ears, + That, if he slip, will seize upon us both, + And gripe the sorer, being grip'd himself. + Think therefore, madam, that [it] imports us[313] much 10 + To erect your son with all the speed we may, + And that I be protector over him; + For our behoof, 'twill[314] bear the greater sway + Whenas a king's name shall be under writ. + + _Queen._ Sweet Mortimer, the life of Isabel, + Be thou persuaded that I love thee well, + And therefore, so the prince my son be safe, + Whom I esteem as dear as these mine eyes, + Conclude against his father what thou wilt, + And I myself will willingly subscribe. 20 + + _Y. Mor._ First would I hear news he were deposed, + And then let me alone to handle him. + + _Enter_ Messenger. + + Letters! from whence? + + _Mess._ From Killingworth, my lord. + + _Queen._ How fares my lord the king? + + _Mess._ In health, madam, but full of pensiveness. + + _Queen._ Alas, poor soul, would I could ease his grief! + + _Enter_ WINCHESTER[315] _with the Crown._ + + Thanks, gentle Winchester. [_To the Messenger._] Sirrah, be gone. + [_Exit Messenger._ + _Winch._ The king hath willingly resigned his crown. + + _Queen._ O happy news! send for the prince, my son. + + _Winch._ Further, or this letter[316] was sealed, + Lord Berkeley came, 30 + So that he now is gone from Killingworth; + And we have heard that Edmund laid a plot + To set his brother free; no more but so. + The Lord of Berkeley is so [as?] pitiful + As Leicester that had charge of him before. + + _Queen._ Then let some other be his guardian. + + _Y. Mor._ Let me alone, here is the privy seal. + [_Exit_ WINCHESTER. + Who's there?--call hither Gurney and Matrevis. + To dash the heavy-headed Edmund's drift, + Berkeley shall be discharged, the king removed, 40 + And none but we shall know where he lieth.[317] + + _Queen._ But, Mortimer, as long as he survives, + What safety rests for us, or for my son? + + _Y. Mor._ Speak, shall he presently be despatched and die? + + _Queen._ I would he were, so 'twere not by my means. + + _Enter_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY. + + _Y. Mor._ Enough.-- + Matrevis, write a letter presently + Unto the Lord of Berkeley from ourself + That he resign the king to thee and Gurney; + And when 'tis done, we will subscribe our name. 50 + + _Mat._ It shall be done, my lord. + + _Y. Mor._ Gurney. + + _Gur._ My lord. + + _Y. Mor._ As thou intend'st to rise by Mortimer, + Who now makes Fortune's wheel turn as he please, + Seek all the means thou canst to make him droop, + And neither give him kind word nor good look. + + _Gur._ I warrant you, my lord. + + _Y. Mor._ And this above the rest: because we hear + That Edmund casts to work his liberty, + Remove him still from place to place by night, + Till at the last he come to Killingworth, 60 + And then from thence to Berkeley back again? + And by the way, to make him fret the more, + Speak curstly to him; and in any case + Let no man comfort him if he chance to weep, + But amplify his grief with bitter words. + + _Mat._ Fear not, my lord, we'll do as you command. + + _Y. Mor._ So now away; post thitherwards amain. + + _Queen._ Whither goes this letter? to my lord the king? + Commend me humbly to his majesty, + And tell him that I labour all in vain 70 + To ease his grief, and work his liberty; + And bear him this as witness of my love. [_Gives a ring._ + + _Mat._ I will, madam. + [_Exeunt_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY; _manent_ ISABEL _and_ MORTIMER. + + _Enter the_ Young Prince, _and the_ EARL OF KENT + _talking with him_. + + _Y. Mor._ Finely dissembled? Do so still, sweet queen. + Here comes the young prince with the Earl of Kent. + + _Queen._ Something he whispers in his childish ears. + + _Y. Mor._ If he have such access unto the prince, + Our plots and stratagems will soon be dashed. + + _Queen._ Use Edmund friendly as if all were well. + + _Y. Mor._ How fares my honourable lord of Kent? 80 + + _Kent._ In health, sweet Mortimer: how fares your grace? + + _Queen._ Well, if my lord your brother were enlarged. + + _Kent._ I hear of late he hath deposed himself. + + _Queen._ The more my grief. + + _Y. Mor._ And mine. + + _Kent._ Ah, they do dissemble? [_Aside._ + + _Queen._ Sweet son, come hither, I must talk with thee. + + _Y. Mor._ You being his uncle, and the next of blood, + Do look to be protector o'er the prince. + + _Kent._ Not I, my lord; who should protect the son, 90 + But she that gave him life? I mean the queen. + + _Prince._ Mother, persuade me not to wear the crown: + Let him be king--I am too young to reign. + + _Queen._ But be content, seeing 'tis[318] his highness' pleasure. + + _Prince._ Let me but see him first, and then I will. + + _Kent._ I, do, sweet nephew. + + _Queen._ Brother, you know it is impossible. + + _Prince._ Why, is he dead? + + _Queen._ No, God forbid. + + _Kent._ I would those words proceeded from your heart. 100 + + _Y. Mor._ Inconstant Edmund, dost thou favour him, + That wast a cause of his imprisonment? + + _Kent._ The more cause have I now to make amends. + + _Y. Mor._ I tell thee, 'tis not meet that one so false + Should come about the person of a prince. + My lord, he hath betrayed the king his brother, + And therefore trust him not. + + _Prince._ But he repents, and sorrows for it now. + + _Queen._ Come, son, and go with this gentle lord and me. + + _Prince._ With you I will, but not with Mortimer. 110 + + _Y. Mor._ Why, youngling, 'sdain'st thou so of Mortimer? + Then I will carry thee by force away. + + _Prince._ Help, uncle Kent, Mortimer will wrong me. + + _Queen._ Brother Edmund, strive not; we are his friends; + Isabel is nearer than the Earl of Kent. + + _Kent._ Sister, Edward is my charge, redeem him. + + _Queen._ Edward is my son, and I will keep him. + + _Kent._ Mortimer shall know that he hath wrongèd me!-- + Hence will I haste to Killingworth Castle, + And rescue aged Edward from his foes, 120 + To be revenged on Mortimer and thee. + [_Aside. Exeunt omnes._ + + + SCENE III. + + _Enter_[319] MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY _with the_ KING. + + _Mat._ My lord, be not pensive, we are your friends; + Men are ordained to live in misery, + Therefore come,--dalliance dangereth our lives. + + _Edw._ Friends, whither must unhappy Edward go? + Will hateful Mortimer appoint no rest? + Must I be vexèd like the nightly bird, + Whose sight is loathsome to all wingèd fowls? + When will the fury of his mind assuage? + When will his heart be satisfied with blood? + If mine will serve, unbowel straight this breast, 10 + And give my heart to Isabel and him; + It is the chiefest mark they level at. + + _Gur._ Not so, my liege, the queen hath given this charge + To keep your grace in safety; + Your passions make your dolours to increase. + + _Edw._ This usage makes my misery to increase. + But can my air[320] of life continue long + When all my senses are annoyed with stench? + Within a dungeon England's king is kept, + Where I am starved for want of sustenance. 20 + My daily diet is heart-breaking sobs, + That almost rent the closet of my heart; + Thus lives old[321] Edward not relieved by any, + And so must die, though pitièd by many. + O, water, gentle friends, to cool my thirst, + And clear my body from foul excrements! + + _Mat._ Here's channel water, as your charge is given; + Sit down, for we'll be barbers to your grace. + + _Edw._ Traitors, away! what, will you murder me, + Or choke your sovereign with puddle water? 30 + + _Gur._ No; + But wash your face, and shave away your beard, + Lest you be known and so be rescued. + + _Mat._ Why strive you thus? your labour is in vain? + + _Edw._ The wren may strive against the lion's strength, + But all in vain: so vainly do I strive + To seek for mercy at a tyrant's hand. + [_They wash him with puddle water, and shave his beard away._ + Immortal powers! that knows the painful cares + That waits upon my poor distressèd soul! + O level all your looks upon these daring men, 40 + That wrongs their liege and sovereign, England's king. + O Gaveston, 'tis for thee that I am wronged, + For me, both thou and both the Spencers died! + And for your sakes a thousand wrongs I'll take. + The Spencers' ghosts, wherever they remain, + Wish well to mine; then tush, for them I'll die. + + _Mat._ 'Twixt theirs and yours shall be no enmity. + Come, come away; now put the torches out, + We'll enter in by darkness to Killingworth. + + _Enter_ KENT. + + _Gur._ How now, who comes there? 50 + + _Mat._ Guard the king sure: it is the Earl of Kent. + + _Enter_ Soldiers. + + _Edw._ O gentle brother, help to rescue me! + + _Mat._ Keep them asunder; thrust in the king. + + _Kent._ Soldiers, let me but talk to him one word. + + _Gur._ Lay hands upon the earl for his assault. + + _Kent._ Lay down your weapons, traitors, yield the king. + + _Mat._ Edmund, yield thou thyself, or thou shalt die. + + _Kent._ Base villains, wherefore do you gripe me thus! + + _Gur._ Bind him and so convey him to the court. + + _Kent._ Where is the court but here? here is the king; 60 + And I will visit him; why stay you me? + + _Mat._ The court is where Lord Mortimer remains; + Thither shall your honour go; and so farewell. + [_Exeunt_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY, _with the_ KING. + KENT _and the_ Soldiers _remain_. + + _Kent._ O miserable is that commonweal, + Where lords keep courts, and kings are locked in prison? + + _Sol._ Wherefore stay we? on, sirs, to the court. + + _Kent._ I, lead me whither you will, even to my death, + Seeing that my brother cannot be released. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE IV. + + _Enter_[322] YOUNG MORTIMER. + + _Y. Mor._ The king must die, or Mortimer goes down. + The commons now begin to pity him. + Yet he that is the cause of Edward's death, + Is sure to pay for it when his son's of age; + And therefore will I do it cunningly. + This letter, written by a friend of ours, + Contains his death, yet bids them save his life. [_Reads._ + _Edwardum occidere nolite timere bonum est + Fear not to kill the king 'tis good he die._ + But read it thus, and that's another sense: 10 + _Edwardum occidere nolite timere bonum est + Kill not the king 'tis good to fear the worst._ + Unpointed as it is, thus shall it go, + That, being dead, if it chance to be found, + Matrevis and the rest may bear the blame, + And we be quit that caused it to be done. + Within this room is locked the messenger, + That shall convey it, and perform the rest: + And by a secret token that he bears, + Shall he be murdered when the deed is done.-- 20 + Lightborn, come forth! + + _Enter_ LIGHTBORN. + + Art thou so resolute as thou wast? + + _Light._ What else, my lord? and far more resolute. + + _Y. Mor._ And hast thou cast how to accomplish it? + + _Light._ I, I, and none shall know which way he died. + + _Y. Mor._ But at his looks, Lightborn, thou wilt relent. + + _Light._ Relent! ha, ha! I use much to relent. + + _Y. Mor._ Well, do it bravely, and be secret. + + _Light._ You shall not need to give instructions; + 'Tis not the first time I have killed a man. 30 + I learned in Naples how to poison flowers; + To strangle with a lawn thrust through[323] the throat; + To pierce the windpipe with the needle's point; + Or whilst one is asleep, to take a quill + And blow a little powder in his ears: + Or open his mouth and pour quicksilver down. + And yet I have a braver way than these. + + _Y. Mor._ What's that? + + _Light._ Nay, you shall pardon me; none shall know my tricks. + + _Y. Mor._ I care not how it is, so it be not spied. 40 + Deliver this to Gurney and Matrevis. + At every ten mile end thou hast a horse. + Take this, away, and never see me more. + + _Light._ No! + + _Y. Mor._ No; + Unless thou bring me news of Edward's death. + + _Light._ That will I quickly do; farewell, my lord. [_Exit._ + + _Y. Mor._ The prince I rule, the queen do I command, + And with a lowly congé to the ground, + The proudest lords salute me as I pass: 50 + I seal, I cancel, I do what I will: + Feared am I more than loved--let me be feared; + And when I frown, make all the court look pale. + I view the prince with Aristarchus' eyes, + Whose looks were as a breeching to a boy. + They thrust upon me the protectorship, + And sue to me for that that I desire. + While at the council-table, grave enough, + And not unlike a bashful puritan, + First I complain of imbecility, 60 + Saying it is _onus quam gravissimum;_ + Till being interrupted by my friends, + _Suscepi_ that _provinciam_ as they term it; + And to conclude, I am Protector now. + Now is all sure, the queen and Mortimer + Shall rule the realm, the king; and none rules us. + Mine enemies will I plague, my friends advance; + And what I list command who dare control? + _Major sum quam cui possit fortuna nocere._[324] + And that this be the coronation-day, 70 + It pleaseth me, and Isabel the queen. + [_Trumpets within._ + The trumpets sound, I must go take my place. + + _Enter_[325] _the_ YOUNG KING, ARCHBISHOP,[326] CHAMPION, + Nobles, QUEEN. + + _Archbishop._ Long live King Edward, by the grace of God, + King of England, and Lord of Ireland! + + _Cham._ If any Christian, Heathen, Turk, or Jew, + Dare but affirm that Edward's not true king, + And will avouch his saying with the sword, + I am the champion that will combat with him. + + _Y. Mor._ None comes, sound trumpets. + + _King._ Champion, here's to thee. [_Gives a purse._ + + _Queen._ Lord Mortimer, now take him to your charge. 80 + + _Enter_ Soldiers, _with the_ EARL OF KENT _prisoner_. + + _Y. Mor._ What traitor have we there with blades and bills? + + _Sol._ Edmund, the Earl of Kent. + + _King._ What hath he done? + + _Sol._ 'A would have taken the king away perforce, + As we were bringing him to Killingworth. + + _Y. Mor._ Did you attempt his rescue, Edmund? speak. + + _Kent._ Mortimer, I did; he is our king, + And thou compell'st this prince to wear the crown. + + _Y. Mor._ Strike off his head, he shall have martial law. + + _Kent._ Strike off my head! base traitor, I defy thee. + + _King._ My lord, he is my uncle, and shall live. 90 + + _Y. Mor._ My lord, he is your enemy, and shall die. + + _Kent._ Stay, villains! + + _King._ Sweet mother, if I cannot pardon him, + Entreat my Lord Protector for his life. + + _Queen._ Son, be content; I dare not speak a word. + + _King._ Nor I, and yet methinks I should command; + But, seeing I cannot, I'll entreat for him,-- + My lord, if you will let my uncle live, + I will requite it when I come to age. + + _Y. Mor._ Tis for your highness' good, and for the realm's.-- 100 + How often shall I bid you bear him hence? + + _Kent._ Art thou king? must I die at thy command? + + _Y. Mor._ At our command! once more away with him. + + _Kent._ Let me but stay and speak; I will not go. + Either my brother or my son is king, + And none of both them thirst for Edmund's blood. + And therefore, soldiers, whither will you hale me? + [_They hale_ KENT _away, and carry him to be beheaded_. + _King._ What safety may I look for at his hands, + If that my uncle shall be murdered thus? + + _Queen._ Fear not, sweet boy, I'll guard thee from thy foes; 110 + Had Edmund lived, he would have sought thy death. + Come, son, we'll ride a hunting in the park. + + _King._ And shall my uncle Edmund ride with us? + + _Queen._ He is a traitor; think not on him; come. + [_Exeunt omnes._ + + + SCENE V. + + _Enter_[327] MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY. + + _Mat._ Gurney, I wonder the king dies not, + Being in a vault up to the knees in water, + To which the channels of the castle run, + From whence a damp continually ariseth, + That were enough to poison any man, + Much more a king brought up so tenderly. + + _Gur._ And so do I, Matrevis: yesternight + I opened but the door to throw him meat, + And I was almost stifled with the savour. + + _Mat._ He hath a body able to endure 10 + More than we can inflict: and therefore now + Let us assail his mind another while. + + _Gur._ Send for him out thence, and I will anger him. + + _Mat._ But stay, who's this? + + _Enter_ LIGHTBORN. + + _Light._ My Lord Protector greets you. + + _Gur._ What's here? I know not how to construe it. + + _Mat._ Gurney, it was left unpointed for the nonce; + _Edwardum occidere nolite timere,_ + That's his meaning. + + _Light._ Know ye this token? I must have the king. + + _Mat._ I, stay awhile, thou shalt have answer straight. 20 + This villain's sent to make away the king. [_Aside._ + + _Gur._ I thought as much. [_Aside._ + + _Mat._ And when the murder's done, + See how he must be handled for his labour. + _Pereat iste!_ Let him have the king. [_Aside._ + What else? here is the keys, this is the lake,[328] + Do as you are commanded by my lord. + + _Light._ I know what I must do; get you away. + Yet be not far off, I shall need your help; + See that in the next room I have a fire, + And get me a spit, and let it be red-hot. 30 + + _Mat._ Very well. + + _Gur._ Need you anything besides? + + _Light._ What else? A table and a feather-bed. + + _Gur._ That's all? + + _Light._ I, I; so, when I call you, bring + It in. + + _Mat._ Fear not thou that. + + _Gur._ Here's a light, + To go into the dungeon. + [_Gives light, and exit with_ MATREVIS. + _Light_. So[329] now + Must I about this gear;[330] ne'er was there any + So finely handled as this king shall be. + Foh, here's a place indeed, with all my heart! + + _Edw_. Who's there? what light is that? wherefore com'st thou? + + _Light._ To comfort you, and bring you joyful news. 40 + + _Edw._ Small comfort finds poor Edward in thy looks. + Villain, I know thou com'st to murder me. + + _Light._ To murder you, my most gracious lord! + Far is it from my heart to do you harm. + The queen sent me to see how you were used, + For she relents at this your misery: + And what eyes can refrain from shedding tears, + To see a king in this most piteous state? + + _Edw._ Weep'st thou already? list awhile to me. + And then thy heart, were it as Gurney's is, 50 + Or as Matrevis', hewn from the Caucasus, + Yet will it melt, ere I have done my tale. + This dungeon where they keep me is the sink + Wherein the filth of all the castle falls. + + _Light._ O villains! + + _Edw._ And there in mire and puddle have I stood + This ten days' space; and, lest that I should sleep, + One plays continually upon a drum. + They give me bread and water, being a king; + So that, for want of sleep and sustenance, 60 + My mind's distempered, and my body's numbed, + And whether I have limbs or no I know not. + O, would my blood dropped out from every vein, + As doth this water from my tattered[331] robes. + Tell Isabel, the queen, I looked not thus, + When for her sake I ran at tilt in France, + And there unhorsed the Duke of Cleremont. + + _Light._ O speak no more, my lord! this breaks my heart. + Lie on this bed,[332] and rest yourself awhile. + + _Edw._ These looks of thine can harbour nought but death: 70 + I see my tragedy written in thy brows. + Yet stay; awhile forbear thy bloody hand, + And let me see the stroke before it comes, + That[333] even then when I shall lose my life, + My mind may be more steadfast on my God. + + _Light._ What means your highness to mistrust me thus? + + _Edw._ What mean'st thou to dissemble with me thus? + + _Light._ These hands were never stained with innocent blood, + Nor shall they now be tainted with a king's. 79 + + _Edw._ Forgive my thought[334] for having such a thought. + One jewel have I left, receive thou this. [_Giving jewel._ + Still fear I, and I know not what's the cause, + But every joint shakes as I give it thee. + O, if thou harbour'st murder in thy heart, + Let this gift change thy mind, and save thy soul! + Know that I am a king: O! at that name + I feel a hell of grief; where is my crown? + Gone, gone; and do I remain alive?[335] + + _Light._ You're overwatched, my lord; lie down and rest. + + _Edw._ But that grief keeps me waking, I should sleep, 90 + For not these ten days have these eyes' lids[336] closed. + Now as I speak they fall, and yet with fear + Open again. O wherefore sitt'st thou here? + + _Light._ If you mistrust me, I'll begone, my lord. + + _Edw._ No, no, for if thou mean'st to murder me, + Thou wilt return again, and therefore stay. [_Sleeps._ + + _Light._ He sleeps. + + _Edw._ [_awakes_.] O let me not die yet;[337] stay, + O stay a while! + + _Light._ How now, my lord? + + _Edw._ Something still buzzeth in mine ears, 100 + And tells me if I sleep I never wake; + This fear is that which makes me tremble thus. + And therefore tell me, wherefore art thou come. + + _Light._ To rid thee of thy life; Matrevis, come. + + _Enter_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY. + + _Edw._ I am too weak and feeble to resist: + Assist me, sweet God, and receive my soul. + + _Light._ Run for the table. + + _Edw._ O spare me, or despatch me in a trice. + + _Light._ So, lay the table down, and stamp on it, + But not too hard, lest that you bruise his body. 110 + [KING EDWARD _is murdered._ + + _Mat._ I fear me that this cry will raise the town, + And therefore, let us take horse and away. + + _Light._ Tell me, sirs, was it not bravely done? + + _Gur._ Excellent well: take this for thy reward. + [GURNEY _stabs_ LIGHTBORN. + Come, let us cast the body in the moat, + And bear the king's to Mortimer our lord: + Away! + [_Exeunt with the bodies._ + + + SCENE VI. + + _Enter_[338] MORTIMER _and_ MATREVIS. + + _Y. Mor._ Is't done, Matrevis, and the murderer dead? + + _Mat._ I, my good lord; I would it were undone. + + _Y. Mor._ Matrevis, if thou now[339] growest penitent + I'll be thy ghostly father; therefore chuse, + Whether thou wilt be secret in this, + Or else die by the hand of Mortimer. + + _Mat._ Gurney, my lord, is fled, and will, I fear, + Betray us both, therefore let me fly. + + _Y. Mor._ Fly to the savages. + + _Mat._ I humbly thank your honour. 10 + + _Y. Mor._ As for myself, I stand as Jove's huge tree; + And others are but shrubs compared to me. + All tremble at my name, and I fear none; + Let's see who dare impeach me for his death. + + _Enter the_ QUEEN. + + _Queen._ Ah, Mortimer, the king my son hath news + His father's dead, and we have murdered him. + + _Y. Mor._ What if he have? the king is yet a child. + + _Queen._ I,[340] but he tears his hair, and wrings his hands, + And vows to be revenged upon us both. + Into the council-chamber he is gone, 20 + To crave the aid and succour of his peers. + Aye me! see where he comes, and they with him; + Now, Mortimer, begins our tragedy. + + _Enter the_ KING, _with the_ Lords. + + _First[341] Lord._ Fear not, my lord, know that you are a king. + + _King._ Villain! + + _Y. Mor._ Ho,[342] now, my lord! + + _King._ Think not that I am frighted with thy words! + My father's murdered through thy treachery; + And thou shalt die, and on his mournful hearse + Thy hateful and accursèd head shall lie, + To witness to the world, that by thy means 30 + His kingly body was too soon interred. + + _Queen._ Weep not, sweet son! + + _King._ Forbid me not to weep, he was my father; + And, had you loved him half so well as I, + You could not bear his death thus patiently. + But you, I fear, conspired with Mortimer. + + _First[343] Lord._ Why speak you not unto my lord the king? + + _Y. Mor._ Because I think scorn to be accused. + Who is the man dares say I murdered him? + + _King._ Traitor! in me my loving father speaks, 40 + And plainly saith, 'twas thou that murder'dst him. + + _Y. Mor._ But has your grace no other proof than this? + + _King._ Yes, if this be the hand of Mortimer. + + _Y. Mor._ False Gurney hath betrayed me and himself. [_Aside._ + + _Queen._ I feared as much; murder cannot be hid. [_Aside._ + + _Y. Mor._ It is my hand; what gather you by this? + + _King._ That thither thou didst send a murderer. + + _Y. Mor._ What murderer? Bring forth the man I sent. + + _King._ I, Mortimer, thou knowest that he is slain; + And so shalt thou be too. Why stays he here? 50 + Bring him unto a hurdle, drag him forth, + Hang him, I say, and set his quarters up, + But bring his head back presently to me. + + _Queen._ For my sake, sweet son, pity Mortimer. + + _Y. Mor._ Madam, entreat not, I will rather die, + Than sue for life unto a paltry boy. + + _King._ Hence with the traitor! with the murderer! + + _Y. Mor._ Base Fortune, now I see, that in thy wheel + There is a point, to which when men aspire, + They tumble headlong down: that point I touched, 60 + And, seeing there was no place to mount up higher, + Why should I grieve at my declining fall? + Farewell, fair queen; weep not for Mortimer, + That scorns the world, and, as a traveller, + Goes to discover countries yet unknown. + + _King._ What! suffer you the traitor to delay? + [MORTIMER _is taken away._ + _Queen._ As thou receivedst thy life from me, + Spill not the blood of gentle Mortimer. + + _King._ This argues that you spilt my father's blood, + Else would you not entreat for Mortimer. 70 + + _Queen._ I spill his blood? no.[344] + + _King._ I, madam, you; for so the rumour runs. + + _Queen._ That rumour is untrue; for loving thee, + Is this report raised on poor Isabel. + + _King._ I do not think her so unnatural. + + _Second[345] Lord._ My lord, I fear me it will prove too true. + + _King._ Mother, you are suspected for his death, + And therefore we commit you to the Tower + Till farther trial may be made thereof; + If you be guilty, though I be your son, 80 + Think not to find me slack or pitiful. + + _Queen._ Nay, to my death, for too long have I lived, + Whenas my son thinks to abridge my days. + + _King._ Away with her, her words enforce these tears, + And I shall pity her if she speak again. + + _Queen._ Shall I not mourn for my beloved lord, + And with the rest accompany him to his[346] grave? + + _Second[2] Lord._ Thus, madam, 'tis the king's will you shall + hence. + + _Queen._ He hath forgotten me; stay, I am his mother. + + _Second[347] Lord._ That boots not; therefore, gentle madam, go. + + _Queen._ Then come, sweet death, and rid me of this grief. 90 + [_Exit._ + + _Re-enter a_ Lord, _with the head of_ MORTIMER. + + _Lord._ My lord, here is the head of Mortimer. + + _King._ Go fetch my father's hearse, where it shall lie; + And bring my funeral robes. Accursèd head, + Could I have ruled thee then, as I do now, + Thou had'st not hatched this monstrous treachery. + Here comes the hearse; help me to mourn, my lords. + Sweet father, here unto thy murdered ghost + I offer up this wicked traitor's head; + And let these tears, distilling from mine eyes, + Be witness of my grief and innocency. 100 + [_Exeunt._ + + + + + THE MASSACRE AT PARIS. + + +Of _The Massacre at Paris_ there is only one early edition, an undated +8vo. (printed _circ._ 1596?) The title is:-- + +_The Massacre at Paris: With the death of the Duke of Guise. As it was +plaide by the right honourable the Lord high Admirall his Seruants. +Written by Christopher Marlowe. At London Printed by E. A. for Edward +White, dwelling neere the little North doore of S. Paules Church at the +signe of the Gun._ + + + + + _PERSONS REPRESENTED._ + + CHARLES THE NINTH, _king of France._ + DUKE OF ANJOU, _his Brother, afterwards_ KING HENRY + THE THIRD. + KING OF NAVARRE. + PRINCE OF CONDÉ, _his Cousin._ + + DUKE OF GUISE, } + CARDINAL OF LORRAINE,} _Brothers._ + DUKE DUMAINE, } + + Son to the DUKE OF GUISE, _a Boy._ + THE LORD HIGH ADMIRAL. + DUKE JOYEUX. + EPERNOUN. + PLESHÈ. + BARTUS. + TWO LORDS OF POLAND. + GONZAGO. + RETES. + MOUNTSORRELL. + MUGEROUN. + LOREINE, _a Preacher._ + SEROUNE. + RAMUS. + TALÆUS. + Friar. + Surgeon. + English Agent. + Apothecary. + Cutpurse. + Captain of the Guard, Protestants, Schoolmasters, Soldiers, + Murderers, Attendants, &c. + CATHERINE, the Queen-Mother of France. + MARGARET, _her Daughter, wife to the_ KING OF NAVARRE. + THE OLD QUEEN OF NAVARRE. + DUCHESS OF GUISE. + Wife to SEROUNE. + Maid to the DUCHESS OF GUISE. + + + + + THE MASSACRE AT PARIS. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_ CHARLES,[348] _the French king_; CATHERINE, + _the Queen-Mother; the_ KING OF NAVARRE; MARGARET, + _Queen of Navarre; the_ PRINCE OF CONDÉ; + _the_ LORD HIGH ADMIRAL; _the_ OLD QUEEN OF NAVARRE; + _with others_. + + _Char._ Prince of Navarre, my honourable brother, + Prince Condé, and my good Lord Admiral, + I wish this union and religious league, + Knit in these hands, thus joined in nuptial rites, + May not dissolve till death dissolve our lives; + And that the native sparks of princely love, + That kindled first this motion in our hearts, + May still be fuelled in our progeny. + + _Nav._ The many favours which your grace hath shown, + From time to time, but specially in this, 10 + Shall bind me ever to your highness' will, + In what Queen-Mother or your grace commands. + + _Cath._ Thanks, son Navarre. You see we love you well, + That link you in marriage with our daughter here; + And, as you know, our difference in religion + Might be a means to cross you in your love,-- + + _Char._ Well, madam, let that rest.-- + And now, my lords, the marriage rites performed, + We think it good to go and cònsummate + The rest with hearing of a holy mass.-- 20 + Sister, I think yourself will bear us company. + + _Mar._ I will, my good lord. + + _Char._ The rest that will not go, my lords, may stay.-- + Come, mother, + Let us go to honour this solemnity. + + _Cath._ Which I'll dissolve with blood and cruelty. [_Aside._ + [_Exeunt all except the_ KING OF NAVARRE, CONDÉ, + _and the_ ADMIRAL. + + _Nav._ Prince Condé, and my good Lord Admiral, + Now Guise may storm, but do us little hurt, + Having the king, Queen-Mother on our sides, + To stop the malice of his envious heart, 30 + That seeks to murder all the Protestants. + Have you not heard of late how he decreed + (If that the king had given consent thereto) + That all the Protestants that are in Paris + Should have been murderèd the other night? + + _Adm._ My lord, I marvel that th' aspiring Guise + Dares once adventure, without the king's consent, + To meddle or attempt such dangerous things. + + _Con._ My lord, you need not marvel at the Guise, + For what he doth, the Pope will ratify, 40 + In murder, mischief, or in tyranny. + + _Nav._ But he that sits and rules above the clouds + Doth hear and see the prayers of the just, + And will revenge the blood of innocents, + That Guise hath slain by treason of his heart, + And brought by murder to their timeless[349] ends. + + _Adm._ My lord, but did you mark the Cardinal, + The Guise's brother, and the Duke Dumaine, + How they did storm at these your nuptial rites, + Because the house of Bourbon now comes in, 50 + And joins your lineage to the crown of France? + + _Nav._ And that's the cause that Guise so frowns at us, + And beats his brains to catch us in his trap, + Which he hath pitched within his deadly toil. + Come, my lords, let's go to the church, and pray + That God may still defend the right of France, + And make his Gospel flourish in this land. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_ GUISE.[350] + + _Guise._ If ever Hymen lour'd at marriage rites, + And had his altars decked with dusky lights; + If ever sun stained heaven with bloody clouds, + And made it look with terror on the world; + If ever day were turned to ugly night, + And night made semblance of the hue of hell; + This day, this hour, this fatal night, + Shall fully show the fury of them all.-- + Apothecary! + + _Enter_ Apothecary. + + _Apoth._ My lord? 10 + + _Guise._ Now shall I prove, and guerdon to the full, + The love thou bear'st unto the house of Guise. + Where are those perfumed gloves which [late] I sent + To be poisoned? hast thou done them? speak; + Will every savour breed a pang of death? + + _Apoth._ See where they be, my good lord; and he that smells + But to them, dies. + + _Guise._ Then thou remainest resolute? + + _Apoth._ I am, my lord, in what your grace commands, + Till death. + + _Guise._ Thanks, my good friend: I will requite thy love. + Go, then, present them to the Queen Navarre; 20 + For she is that huge blemish in our eye, + That makes these upstart heresies in France: + Be gone, my friend, present them to her straight. + [_Exit_ Apothecary. + Soldier! + + _Enter a_ Soldier. + + _Sold._ My lord? + + _Guise._ Now come thou forth and play thy tragic part: + Stand in some window,[351] opening near the street, + And when thou see'st the Admiral ride by, + Discharge thy musket, and perform his death; + And then I'll guerdon thee with store of crowns. 30 + + _Sold._ I will, my lord. [_Exit._ + + _Guise._ Now, Guise, begin those deep-engendered thoughts + To burst abroad those never-dying flames + Which cannot be extinguished but by blood. + Oft have I levelled, and at last have learn'd + That peril is the cheapest way to happiness, + And resolution honour's fairest aim. + What glory is there in a common good, + That hangs for every peasant to achieve? + That like I best that flies beyond my reach. 40 + Set me to scale the high Pyramides, + And thereon set the diadem of France; + I'll either rend it with my nails to naught, + Or mount the top with my aspiring wings, + Although my downfall be the deepest hell. + For this I wake, when others think I sleep; + For this I wait, that scorn attendance else; + For this, my quenchless thirst, whereon I build, + Hath often pleaded kindred to the king; + For this, this head, this heart, this hand, and sword, 50 + Contrives, imagines, and fully executes, + Matters of import aimèd at by many, + Yet understood by none; + For this, hath heaven engendered me of earth; + For this, this earth sustains my body's weight, + And with this weight I'll counterpoise a crown, + Or with seditions weary all the world; + For this, from Spain the stately Catholics + Send Indian gold to coin me French ecues;[352] + For this, have I a largess from the Pope, 60 + A pension, and a dispensation too; + And by that privilege to work upon, + My policy hath fram'd religion. + Religion! _O Diabole!_ + Fie, I am asham'd, however that I seem, + To think a word of such a simple sound, + Of so great matter should be made the ground! + The gentle king, whose pleasure uncontroll'd + Weakeneth his body, and will waste his realm, + If I repair not what he ruinates,[353]-- 70 + Him, as a child, I daily win with words, + So that for proof he barely bears the name; + I execute, and he sustains the blame. + The Mother-Queen works wonders for my sake, + And in my love entombs the hope of France, + Rifling the bowels of her treasury, + To supply my wants and necessity. + Paris hath full five hundred colleges, + As monasteries, priories, abbeys, and halls, + Wherein are thirty thousand able men, 80 + Besides a thousand sturdy student Catholics: + And more,--of my knowledge, in one cloister keep[354] + Five hundred fat Franciscan friars and priests: + All this, and more, if more may be comprised, + To bring the will of our desires to end. + Then, Guise, + Since thou hast all the cards within thy hands, + To shuffle or cut, take this as surest thing, + That, right or wrong, thou deal thyself a king.-- + I, but, Navarre,[355]--'tis but a nook of France, 90 + Sufficient yet for such a petty king, + That, with a rabblement of his heretics, + Blinds Europe's eyes, and troubleth our estate. + Him will we--[_Pointing to his sword_] but first let's follow + those in France + That hinder our possession to the crown. + As Cæsar to his soldiers, so say I,-- + Those that hate me will I learn to loathe. + Give me a look, that, when I bend the brows, + Pale death may walk in furrows of my face; + A hand, that with a grasp may gripe the world; 100 + An ear to hear what my detractors say; + A royal seat, a sceptre, and a crown; + That those which do behold, they[356] may become + As men that stand and gaze against the sun. + The plot is laid, and things shall come to pass + Where resolution strives for victory. + [_Exit._ + + + SCENE III. + + _Enter the_ KING OF NAVARRE,[357] QUEEN MARGARET, + _the_ OLD QUEEN OF NAVARRE, _the_ PRINCE OF CONDÉ, + _and the_ ADMIRAL; _they are met by the_ Apothecary + _with the gloves, which he gives to the_ OLD QUEEN. + + _Apoth._ Madam, + I beseech your grace to accept this simple gift. + + _Old Q. of Nav._ Thanks, my good friend. Hold, take + thou this reward. [_Gives a purse._ + + _Apoth._ I humbly thank your majesty. [_Exit._ + + _Old Q. of Nav._ Methinks the gloves have a very strong perfume, + The scent whereof doth make my head to ache. + + _Nav._ Doth not your grace know the man that gave them you? + + _Old Q. of Nav._ Not well; but do remember such a man. + + _Adm._ Your grace was ill-advised to take them, then, + Considering of these dangerous times. 10 + + _Old Q. of Nav._ Help, son Navarre! I am poisoned! + + _Mar._ The heavens forbid your highness such mishap! + + _Nav._ The late suspicion of the Duke of Guise + Might well have moved your highness to beware + How you did meddle with such dangerous gifts. + + _Mar._ Too late it is, my lord, if that be true, + To blame her highness; but I hope it be + Only some natural passion makes her sick. + + _Old Q. of Nav._ O no, sweet Margaret! the fatal poison + Works within my head; my brain-pan breaks; 20 + My heart doth faint; I die! [_Dies._ + + _Nav._ My mother poisoned here before my face! + O gracious God, what times are these! + O grant, sweet God, my days may end with hers, + That I with her may die and live again! + + _Mar._ Let not this heavy chance, my dearest lord + (For whose effects my soul is massacrèd), + Infect thy gracious breast with fresh supply + To aggravate our sudden misery. + + _Adm._ Come, my lords, let us bear her body hence, 30 + And see it honoured with just solemnity. + [_As they are going out, the_ Soldier _dischargeth his + musket at the_ ADMIRAL. + _Con._ What, are you hurt, my Lord High Admiral? + + _Adm._ I, my good lord, shot through the arm. + + _Nav._ We[358] are betrayed! Come, my lords, + And let us go tell the king of this. + + _Adm._ These are + The cursèd Guisians, that do seek our death. + O fatal was this marriage to us all! + [_Exeunt, bearing out the body of the_ OLD QUEEN OF NAVARRE. + + + SCENE IV. + + _Enter_[359] KING CHARLES, CATHERINE _the Queen-Mother_, + GUISE, ANJOU, _and_ DUMAINE. + + _Cath._ My noble son, and princely Duke of Guise, + Now have we got the fatal, straggling deer + Within the compass of a deadly toil, + And, as we late decreed, we may perform. + + _Char._ Madam, it will be noted through the world + An action bloody and tyrannical; + Chiefly, since under safety of our word + They justly challenge their protection: + Besides, my heart relents that noblemen, + Only corrupted in religion, 10 + Ladies of honour, knights, and gentlemen, + Should, for their conscience, taste such ruthless ends. + + _Anj._ Though gentle minds should pity others' pain, + Yet will the wisest note their proper griefs, + And rather seek to scourge their enemies + Than be themselves base subjects to the whip. + + _Guise._ Methinks my Lord Anjou hath well advised + Your highness to consider of the thing, + And rather choose to seek your country's good + Than pity or relieve these upstart heretics. 20 + + _Cath._ I hope these reasons may serve my princely son + To have some care for fear of enemies. + + _Char._ Well, madam, I refer it to your majesty, + And to my nephew here, the Duke of Guise: + What you determine, I will ratify. + + _Cat._ Thanks to my princely son.--Then tell me,Guise, + What order will you set down for the massacre? + + _Guise._ Thus, madam. They + That shall be actors in this massacre, + Shall wear white crosses on their burgonets, 30 + And tie white linen scarfs about their arms: + He that wants these, and is suspect[360] of heresy, + Shall die, be he king or emperor. Then I'll have + A peal of ordnance shot from the tower, at which + They all shall issue out, and set[361] the streets; + And then, + The watch-word being given, a bell shall ring, + Which when they hear, they shall begin to kill, + And never cease until that bell shall cease; + Then breathe a while. 40 + + _Enter the_ ADMIRAL'S Serving-Man. + + _Char._ How now, fellow! what news? + + _Serv.-M._ An it please your grace, the Lord High Admiral, + Riding the streets, was traitorously shot; + And most humbly[362] entreats your majesty + To visit him, sick in his bed. + + _Char._ Messenger, tell him I will see him straight. + [_Exit_ Serv.-M. + What shall we do now with the Admiral? + + _Cath._ Your majesty were best go visit him, + And make a show as if all were well. + + _Char._ Content; I will go visit the Admiral. 50 + + _Guise._ And I will go take order for his death. + [_Exeunt_.[363] + + + SCENE V. + + _The_[364] ADMIRAL _discovered in bed. + Enter_ KING CHARLES. + + _Char._ How fares it with my Lord High Admiral? + Hath he been hurt with villain's in the street? + I vow and swear, as I am king of France, + To find and to repay the man with death, + With death delayed and torments never us'd, + That durst presume, for hope of any gain, + To hurt the nobleman their[365] sovereign loves. + + _Adm._ Ah, my good lord, these are the Guisians, + That seek to massacre our guiltless lives! + + _Char._ Assure yourself, my good Lord Admiral, 10 + I deeply sorrow for your treacherous wrong; + And that I am not more secure myself + Than I am careful you should be preserv'd.-- + Cousin, take twenty of our strongest guard, + And, under your direction, see they keep + All treacherous violence from our noble friend; + Repaying all attempts with present death + Upon the cursèd breakers of our peace.-- + And so be patient, good Lord Admiral, + And every hour I will visit you. 20 + + _Adm._ I humbly thank your royal majesty. + [_Exit_ CHARLES. _The bed is drawn in._ + + + SCENE VI. + + _Enter_[366] GUISE, ANJOU, DUMAINE, GONZAGO, RETES, + MOUNTSORRELL, _and_ Soldiers, _to the massacre_. + + _Guise._ Anjou, Dumaine, Gonzago, Retes, swear, + By the argent crosses in your burgonets, + To kill all that you suspect of heresy. + + _Dum._ I swear by this, to be unmerciful. + + _Anj._ I am disguis'd, and none knows who I am, + And therefore mean to murder all I meet. + + _Gon._ And so will I. + + _Retes._ And I. + + _Guise._ Away, then! break into the Admiral's house. + + _Retes._ I, let the Admiral be first despatch'd. + + _Guise._ The Admiral, 10 + Chief standard-bearer to the Lutherans, + Shall in the entrance[367] of this massacre + Be murder'd in his bed. + Gonzago, conduct them thither; and then + Beset his house, that not a man may live. + + _Anj._ That charge is mine.--Switzers, keep you the streets; + And at each corner shall the king's guard stand. + + _Gon._ Come, sirs, follow me. + [_Exit_ GONZAGO _with others_. + _Anj._ Cousin, the captain of the Admiral's guard, + Plac'd by my brother, will betray his lord. 20 + Now, Guise, shall Catholics flourish once again; + The head being off, the members cannot stand. + + _Retes._ But look, my lord, there's some in the Admiral's house. + + GONZAGO _and others enter the_ ADMIRAL'S + _house; the_ ADMIRAL _discovered in bed_. + + _Anj._ In lucky time: come, let us keep this lane, + And slay his servants that shall issue out. + + _Gon._ Where is the Admiral? + + _Adm._ O let me pray before I die! + + _Gon._ Then pray unto our Lady; kiss this cross. [_Stabs him._ + + _Adm._ O God, forgive my sins! [_Dies._ + + _Guise._ Gonzago, what, is he dead? + + _Gon._ I, my lord. 30 + + _Guise._ Then throw him down.[368] + [_The body of the_ ADMIRAL _is thrown down._ + _Anj._ Now, cousin, view him well: + It maybe 'tis some other, and he escap'd. + + _Guise._ Cousin, 'tis he; I know him by his look: + See where my soldier shot him through the arm; + He miss'd him near, but we have struck him now.-- + Ah, base Chatillon and degenerate, + Chief Standard-bearer to the Lutherans, + Thus, in despite of thy religion, + The Duke of Guise stamps on thy lifeless bulk! + + _Anj._ Away with him! cut off his head and hands, 40 + And send them for a present to the Pope;[369] + And, when this just revenge is finishèd, + Unto Mount Falcon[370] will we drag his corse; + + And he, that living hated so the Cross, + Shall, being dead, be hanged thereon in chains. + + _Guise._ Anjou, Gonzago, Retes, if that you three + Will be as resolute as I and Dumaine, + There shall not a Huguenot breathe in France. + + _Anj._ I swear by this cross, we'll not be partial, + But slay as many as we can come near. 50 + + _Guise._ Mountsorrell, go shoot the ordnance off, + That they, which have already set the street, + May know their watchword; then toll the bell, + And so let's forward to the massacre. + + _Mount._ I will, my lord. [_Exit._ + + _Guise._ And now, my lords, let's closely to our business. + + _Anj._ Anjou will follow thee. + + _Dum._ And so will Dumaine. + [_The ordnance being shot off, the bell tolls_. + _Guise._ Come, then, let's away. + [_Exeunt_. + + + SCENE VII. + + _Enter_[371] GUISE _and the rest with their swords drawn, + chasing the Protestants._ + + _Guise._ _Tuez, tuez, tuez!_ + Let none escape! murder the Huguenots! + + _Anj._ Kill them! kill them! [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter_ LOREINE _running_; GUISE _and the rest + pursuing him._ + + _Guise._ Loreine, Loreine! follow Loreine!--Sirrah, + Are you a preacher of these heresies? + + _Lor._ I am a preacher of the word of God; + And thou a traitor to thy soul and him. + + _Guise._ "Dearly belovèd brother,"--thus 'tis written. + [_Stabs_ LOREINE, _who dies_. + + _Anj._ Stay, my lord, let me begin the psalm. + + _Guise._ Come, drag him away, and throw him in a ditch. 10 + [_Exeunt with the body._ + + + SCENE VIII. + + _Enter_[372] MOUNTSORRELL, _and knocks at_ + SEROUNE'S _door._ + + _Seroune's Wife_ [_within_]. Who is that which knocks there? + + _Mount._ Mountsorrell, from the Duke of Guise. + + _Seroune's Wife_ [_within_]. Husband, come down; here's + one would speak with you + From the Duke of Guise. + + _Enter_ SEROUNE _from the house._ + + _Ser._ To speak with me, from such a man as he? + + _Mount._ I, I, for this, Seroune; and thou shalt ha't. + [_Showing his dagger._ + + _Ser._ O, let me pray, before I take my death! + + _Mount._ Despatch, then, quickly. + + _Ser._ O Christ, my Saviour! + + _Mount._ Christ, villain! + Why, darest thou presume to call on Christ, 10 + Without the intercession of some saint? + + _Sanctus_[373] _Jacobus_, he's[374] my saint; pray to him. + + _Ser._ O let me pray unto my God! + + _Mount._ Then take this with you. + [_Stabs_ SEROUNE, _who dies; and then exit._ + + + SCENE IX. + + _Enter_ RAMUS, _in his study._ + + _Ramus._ What fearful cries come from the river Seine,[375] + That fright poor Ramus sitting at his book! + I fear the Guisians have pass'd the bridge, + And mean once more to menace me. + + _Enter_ TALÆUS. + + _Tal._ Fly, Ramus, fly, if thou wilt save thy life! + + _Ramus._ Tell me, Talæus, wherefore should I fly? + + _Tal._ The Guisians are + Hard at thy door, and mean to murder us: + Hark, hark, they come! I'll leap out at the window. + + _Ramus_. Sweet Talæus, stay. 10 + + _Enter_ GONZAGO _and_ RETES. + + _Gon._ Who goes there? + + _Retes._ 'Tis Talæus, Ramus' bedfellow. + + _Gon._ What art thou? + + _Tal._ I am, as Ramus is, a Christian. + + _Retes._ O, let him go; he is a Catholic. [_Exit_ TALÆUS. + + _Gon._ Come, Ramus, more gold, or thou shall have the stab. + + _Ramus._ Alas, I am a scholar! how should I have gold? + All that I have is but my stipend from the king, + Which is no sooner receiv'd but it is spent. + + _Enter_ GUISE, ANJOU, DUMAINE, + MOUNTSORRELL, _and_ Soldiers. + + _Anj._ Who have you there? + + _Retes._ 'Tis Ramus, the king's Professor of Logic. 20 + + _Guise._ Stab him. + + _Ramus._ O, good my lord, + Wherein hath Ramus been so offensious? + + _Guise._ Marry, sir, in having a smack in all, + And yet didst never sound anything to the depth. + Was it not thou that scoff'dst[376] the _Organon_, + And said it was a heap of vanities? + He that will be a flat dichotomist, + And seen in nothing but epitomes, + Is in your judgment thought a learnèd man; + And he, forsooth, must go and preach in Germany, 30 + Excepting against doctors' axioms,[377] + And _ipse dixi_ with this quiddity, + _Argumentum testimonii est inartificiale._[378] + To contradict which, I say, Ramus shall die: + How answer you that? your _nego argumentum_ + Cannot serve, sirrah.--Kill him. + + _Ramus._ O, good my lord, let me but speak a word! + + _Anj._ Well, say on. + + _Ramus._ Not for my life do I desire this pause; + But in my latter hour to purge myself, 40 + In that I know the things that I have wrote, + Which, as I hear, one Scheckius[379] takes it ill, + Because my places,[380] being but three, contain all his. + I knew the _Organon_ to be confus'd, + And I reduc'd it into better form: + And this for Aristotle will I say, + That he that despiseth him can ne'er + Be good in logic or philosophy; + And that's because the blockish Sorbonnists[381] + Attribute as much unto their [own] works 50 + As to the service of the eternal God. + + _Guise._ Why suffer you that peasant to declaim? + Stab[382] him, I say, and send him to his friends in hell. + + _Anj._ Ne'er was there collier's[383] son so full of pride. + [_Stabs_ RAMUS, _who dies_. + + _Guise._ My Lord of Anjou, there are a hundred Protestants + Which we have chased into the river Seine,[384] + That swim about, and so preserve their lives: + How may we do? I fear me they will live. + + _Dum._ Go place some men upon the bridge, + With bows and darts, to shoot at them they see, 60 + And sink them in the river as they swim. + + _Guise._ 'Tis well advis'd, Dumaine; go see it straight be done. + [_Exit_ DUMAINE. + And in the meantime, my lord, could we devise + To get those pedants from the King Navarre, + That are tutors to him and the Prince of Condé-- + + _Anj._ For that, let me alone: cousin, stay you here, + And when you see me in, then follow hard.[385] + + ANJOU _knocketh at the door: and enter the_ KING OF + NAVARRE _and the_ PRINCE OF CONDÉ,[386] _with their + two_ Schoolmasters. + + How now, my lords! how fare you? + + _Nav._ My lord, they say + That all the Protestants are massacred. + + _Anj._ I, so they are; but yet, what remedy? 70 + I have done what I could to stay this broil. + + _Nav._ But yet, my lord, the report doth run + That you were one that made this massacre. + + _Anj._ Who, I? you are deceiv'd; I rose but now. + [GUISE _and the others come forward_[387] + _from the back of the stage._ + _Guise._ Murder the Huguenots! take those pedants hence! + + _Nav._ Thou traitor, Guise, lay off thy bloody hands! + + _Con._ Come, let us go tell the king. + [_Exit with the_ KING OF NAVARRE. + + _Guise._ Come, sirs, + I'll whip you to death with my poniard's point. + [_Stabs the_ Schoolmasters, _who die_. + + _Anj._ Away with them both! + [_Exeunt_ ANJOU _and_ Soldiers _with the bodies_. + + _Guise._ And now, sirs, for this night let our fury stay. + Yet will we not that the massacre shall end: 81 + Gonzago, post you to Orleans, + Retes to Dieppe, Mountsorrell unto Rouen, + And spare not one that you suspect of heresy. + And now stay + That bell, that to the devil's matins rings. + Now every man put off his burgonet, + And so convey him closely to his bed. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE X. + + _Enter_[388] ANJOU, _with two_ Lords of Poland. + + _Anj._ My lords of Poland, I must needs confess, + The offer of your Prince Elector's far + Beyond the reach of my deserts; + For Poland is, as I have been inform'd, + A martial people, worthy such a king + As hath sufficient counsel in himself + To lighten doubts, and frustrate subtle foes; + And such a king, whom practice long hath taught + To please himself with manage of the wars, + The greatest wars within our Christian bounds,-- 10 + I mean our wars against the Muscovites, + And, on the other side, against the Turk, + Rich princes both, and mighty emperors. + Yet, by my brother Charles, our King of France, + And by his grace's council, it is thought + That, if I undertake to wear the crown + Of Poland, it may prejudice their hope + Of my inheritance to the crown of France; + For, if th' Almighty take my brother hence, + By due descent the regal seat is mine. 20 + With Poland, therefore, must I covenant thus,-- + That if, by death of Charles, the diadem + Of France be cast on me, then, with your leaves, + I may retire me to my native home. + If your commission serve to warrant this, + I thankfully shall undertake the charge + Of you and yours, and carefully maintain + The wealth and safety of your kingdom's right. + + _First Lord._ All this, and more, your highness shall command, + For Poland's crown and kingly diadem. 30 + + _Anj._ Then, come, my lords, let's go. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE XI. + + _Enter_[389] _two_ Men, _with the_ ADMIRAL'S _body_. + + _First Man._ Now, sirrah, what shall we do with the Admiral? + + _Sec. Man._ Why, let us burn him for an heretic. + + _First Man._ O no! his body will infect the fire, and + the fire the air, and so we shall be poisoned with him. + + _Sec. Man._ What shall we do, then? + + _First Man._ Let's throw him into the river. + + _Sec. Man._ O, 'twill corrupt the water, and the water + the fish, and the[390] fish ourselves when we eat them! + + _First Man._ Then throw him into a ditch. 10 + + _Sec. Man._ No, no. To decide all doubts, be ruled by me: + let's hang him here upon this tree. + + _First Man._ Agreed. + [_They hang up the body on a tree, and then exeunt._ + + _Enter_ GUISE, CATHERINE _the Queen-Mother, + and the_ CARDINAL OF LORRAINE, _with_ Attendants. + + _Guise._ Now, madam, how like you our lusty Admiral? + + _Cath._ Believe me, Guise, he becomes the place so well + As I could long ere this have wish'd him there. + But come, + Let's walk aside; the air's not very sweet. + + _Guise._ No, by my faith, madam.-- + + Sirs, take him away, and throw him in some ditch. 20 + [_The_ Attendants _bear off the_ ADMIRAL'S _body_. + And now, madam, as I understand, + There are a hundred Huguenots and more, + Which in the woods do hold their synagogue, + And daily meet about this time of day; + And thither will I, to put them to the sword. + + _Cath._ Do so, sweet Guise; let us delay no time; + For, if these stragglers gather head again, + And disperse themselves throught the realm of France, + It will be hard for us to work their deaths. + Be gone; delay no time, sweet Guise. + + _Guise._ Madam, 30 + I go as whirlwinds rage before a storm. [_Exit._ + + _Cath._ My Lord of Lorraine, have you marked of late, + How Charles our son begins for to lament + For the late night's work which my Lord of Guise + Did make in Paris among the Huguenots? + + _Card._ Madam, I have heard him solemnly vow, + With the rebellious King of Navarre, + To revenge their deaths upon us all. + + _Cath._ I, but, my lord, let me alone for that; + For Catherine must have her will in France. 40 + As I do live, so surely shall he die, + And Henry then shall wear the diadem; + And, if he grudge or cross his mother's will, + I'll disinherit him and all the rest; + For I'll rule France, but they shall wear the crown, + And, if they storm, I then may pull them down. + Come, my lord, let us go. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE XII. + + _Enter_[391] _five or six_ Protestants, _with books, + and kneel together. Then enter_ GUISE _and others_. + + _Guise._ Down with the Huguenots! murder them! + + _First Pro._ O Monsieur de Guise, hear me but speak! + + _Guise._ No, villain; that tongue of thine, + That hath blasphem'd the holy Church of Rome, + Shall drive no plaints into the Guise's ears, + To make the justice of my heart relent.-- + _Tuez, tuez, tuez!_ let none escape. [_They kill the_ Protestants. + So drag them away. + [_Exeunt with the bodies._ + + + SCENE XIII. + + _Enter_[392] KING CHARLES, _supported by the_ + KING OF NAVARRE _and_ EPERNOUN; + CATHERINE _the Queen-Mother, the_ + CARDINAL OF LORRAINE, PLESHÉ,[393] + _and_ Attendants. + + _Char._ O, let me stay, and rest me here awhile! + A griping pain hath seiz'd upon my heart; + A sudden pang, the messenger of death. + + _Cath._ O, say not so! thou kill'st thy mother's heart. + + _Char._ I must say so; pain forceth me complain. + + _Nav._ Comfort yourself, my lord, and have no doubt + But God will sure restore you to your health. + + _Char._ O no, my loving brother of Navarre! + I have deserved a scourge, I must confess; + Yet is their[394] patience of another sort 10 + Than to misdo the welfare of their king: + God grant my nearest friends may prove no worse! + O, hold me up, my sight begins to fail, + My sinews shrink, my brains turn upside down; + My heart doth break: I faint and die. [_Dies._ + + _Cath._ Art thou dead, sweet son? speak to thy mother! + O no, his soul is fled from out his breast, + And he nor hears nor sees us what we do! + My lords, what resteth there now to be done, + But that we presently despatch ambassadors 20 + To Poland, to call Henry back again, + To wear his brother's crown and dignity? + Epernoun, go see it presently be done, + And bid him come without delay to us. + + _Eper._ Madam, I will. [_Exit._ + + _Cath._ And now, + My lords, after these funerals be done, + We will, with all the speed we can, provide + For Henry's coronation from Polony. + Come, let us take his body hence. 30 + [_The body of_ KING CHARLES _is borne out; and_ + _exeunt all except the_ KING OF NAVARRE _and_ PLESHÉ. + + _Nav._ And now, Pleshé,[395] whilst that these broils do last, + My opportunity may serve it fit + To steal from France, and hie me to my home, + For there's no safety in this realm for me: + And now that Henry is call'd from Poland, + It is my due, by just succession; + And therefore, as speedily as I can perform, + I'll muster up an army secretly, + For fear that Guise, join'd with the king of Spain, + Might seek[396] to cross me in mine enterprise. 40 + But God, that always doth defend the right, + Will show his mercy, and preserve us still. + + _Pleshé._ The virtues of our true religion + Cannot but march, with many graces more, + Whose army shall discomfort all your foes, + And, at the length, in Pampelonia[397] crown + (In spite of Spain, and all the popish power, + That holds it from your highness wrongfully) + Your majesty her rightful lord and sovereign. + + _Nav._ Truth, Pleshé; and God so prosper me in all, 50 + As I intend to labour for the truth, + And true profession of his holy word! + Come, Pleshé, let's away whilst time doth serve. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE XIV. + + _Trumpets sound within, and a cry of "Vive le Roi" + two or three times. Enter_[398] ANJOU + _crowned as King Henry the Third_; CATHERINE + _the Queen Mother, the_ CARDINAL OF LORRAINE, + GUISE, EPERNOUN, MUGEROUN, + _the_ Cutpurse, _and others_. + + _All. Vive le Roi, Vive le Roi! [A flourish of trumpets._ + + _Cath._ Welcome from Poland, Henry, once again! + Welcome to France, thy father's royal seat! + Here hast thou a country void of fears, + A warlike people to maintain thy right, + A watchful senate for ordaining laws, + A loving mother to preserve thy state, + And all things that a king may wish besides; + All this, and more, hath Henry with his crown. + + _Card._ And long may Henry enjoy all this, and more! 10 + + _All._ _Vive le Roi, Vive le Roi!_ + [_A flourish of trumpets._ + _Henry._ Thanks to you all. The guider of all crowns + Grant that our deeds may well deserve your loves! + And so they shall if fortune speed my will, + And yield your thoughts to height of my deserts. + What say our minions? think they Henry's heart + Will not both harbour love and majesty? + Put off that fear, they are already join'd: + No person, place, or time, or circumstance, + Shall slack my love's affection from his bent: 20 + As now you are, so shall you still persist, + Removeless from the favours of your king. + + _Mug._ We know that noble minds change not their thoughts + For wearing of a crown, in that your grace + Hath worn the Poland diadem before + You were invested in the crown of France. + + _Henry._ I tell thee, Mugeroun, we will be friends, + And fellows too, whatever storms arise. + + _Mug._ Then[399] may it please your majesty to give me leave + To punish those that do profane this holy feast. 30 + + _Henry._ How mean'st thou that? + [MUGEROUN _cuts off the_ Cutpurse's _ear, + for cutting the gold buttons off his cloak_. + _Cutp._ O Lord, mine ear! + + _Mug._ Come, sir, give me my buttons, and here's your ear. + + _Guise._ Sirrah, take him away. + + _Henry._ Hands off, good fellow; I will be his bail + For this offence.--Go, sirrah, work no more + Till this our coronation day be past.-- + And now, + Our solemn rites of coronation done, + What now remains but for a while to feast, 40 + And spend some days in barriers, tourney, tilt, + And like disports, such as do fit the court? + Let's go, my lords; our dinner stays for us. + [_Exeunt all except_ CATHERINE _the Queen Mother + and the_ CARDINAL OF LORRAINE. + + _Cath._ My Lord Cardinal of Lorraine, tell me, + How likes your grace my son's pleasantness? + His mind, you see, runs on his minions, + And all his heaven is to delight himself; + And, whilst he sleeps securely thus in ease, + Thy brother Guise and we may now provide + To plant ourselves with such authority 50 + As not a man may live without our leaves. + Then shall the Catholic faith of Rome + Flourish in France, and none deny the same. + + _Card._ Madam, as in secrecy I was told, + My brother Guise hath gather'd a power of men, + Which are,[400] he saith, to kill the Puritans; + But 'tis the house of Bourbon that he means. + Now, madam, must you insinuate with the king, + And tell him that 'tis for his country's good, + And common profit of religion. 60 + + _Cath._ Tush, man, let me alone with him, + To work the way to bring this thing to pass; + And, if he do deny what I do say, + I'll despatch him with his brother presently, + And then shall Monsieur wear the diadem. + Tush, all shall die unless I have my will; + For, while she lives, Catherine will be queen. + Come, my lord,[401] let us go seek the Guise, + And then determine of this enterprise. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE XV. + + _Enter_[402] _the_ DUCHESS OF GUISE _and her_ Maid. + + _Duch. of G._ Go fetch me pen and ink,-- + + _Maid._ I will, madam. + + _Duch._ That I may write unto my dearest lord. [_Exit_ Maid. + Sweet Mugeroun,[403] 'tis he that hath my heart, + And Guise usurps it 'cause I am his wife. + Fain would I find some means to speak with him, + But cannot, and therefore am enforced to write, + That he may come and meet me in some place, + Where we may one enjoy the other's sight. + + _Re-enter the_ Maid, _with pen, ink, and paper_. + + So, set it down, and leave me to myself. + [_Exit_ Maid. _The_ DUCHESS _writes_. + O, would to God, this quill that here doth write 10 + Had late been pluck'd from out fair Cupid's wing, + That it might print these lines within his heart! + + _Enter_ GUISE. + + _Guise._ What, all alone, my love? and writing too? + I prithee, say to whom thou writ'st. + + _Duch._ To such + A one, my Lord, as, when she reads my lines, + Will laugh, I fear me, at their good array. + + _Guise._ I pray thee, let me see. + + _Duch._ O no, my lord; a woman only must + Partake the secrets of my heart. + + _Guise._ But, madam, I must see. [_Seizes the paper._ 20 + + Are these your secrets that no man must know! + + _Duch._ O, pardon me, my lord! + + _Guise_. Thou trothless and unjust! what lines are these? + Am I grown old, or is thy lust grown young? + Or hath my love been so obscured in thee, + That others need to comment on my text? + Is all my love forgot, which held thee dear, + I, dearer than the apple of mine eye? + Is Guise's glory but a cloudy mist, + In sight and judgment of thy lustful eye? 30 + _Mort Dieu!_ were[404] not the fruit within thy womb, + Of whose increase I set some longing hope, + This wrathful hand should strike thee to the heart. + Hence, strumpet! hide thy head for shame; + And fly my presence if thou look to live! + [_Exit_ DUCHESS. + O wicked sex, perjùrèd and unjust! + Now do I see that from the very first + Her eyes and looks sow'd seeds of perjury. + But villain, he, to whom these lines should go, + Shall buy her love even with his dearest blood. 40 + [_Exit._ + + + SCENE XVI. + + _Enter_[405] _the_ KING OF NAVARRE, PLESHÉ, BARTUS, + _and train, with drums and trumpets_. + + _Nav._ My lords, sith in a quarrel just and right + We undertake to manage these our wars + Against the proud disturbers of the faith + (I mean the Guise, the Pope, and king of Spain, + Who set themselves to tread us under foot, + And rent our true religion from this land; + But for you know our quarrel is no more + But to defend[406] their strange inventions, + Which they will put us to with sword and fire), + We must with resolute minds resolve to fight, 10 + In honour of our God, and country's good. + Spain is the council-chamber of the Pope, + Spain is the place where he makes peace and war; + And Guise for Spain hath now incensed the king + To send his power to meet us in the field. + + _Bar._ Then in this bloody brunt they may behold + The sole endeavour of your princely care, + To plant the true succession of the faith, + In spite of Spain and all his heresies. + + _Nav._ The power of vengeance now encamps itself 20 + Upon the haughty mountains of my breast; + Plays with her gory colours of revenge, + Whom I respect as leaves of boasting green, + That change their colour when the winter comes, + When I shall vaunt as victor in revenge. + + _Enter a_ Messenger. + + How now, sirrah! what news? + + _Mes._ My lord, as by our scouts we understand, + A mighty army comes from France with speed; + Which are already mustered in the land, + And mean to meet your highness in the field. 30 + + _Nav._ In God's name, let them come! + This is the Guise that hath incensed the king + To levy arms, and make these civil broils. + But canst thou tell who is their general? + + _Mes._ Not yet, my lord, for thereon do they stay; + But, as report doth go, the Duke of Joyeux + Hath made great suit unto the king therefore. + + _Nav._ It will not countervail his pains, I hope. + I would the Guise in his stead might have come! + But he doth lurk within his drowsy couch, 40 + And makes his footstool on security: + So he be safe, he cares not what becomes + Of king or country; no, not for them both. + But come, my lords, let us away with speed, + And place ourselves in order for the fight. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE XVII. + + _Enter_[407] KING HENRY, GUISE, EPERNOUN, _and_ JOYEUX. + + _Henry._ My sweet Joyeux, I make thee general + Of all my army, now in readiness + To march 'gainst the rebellious King Navarre; + At thy request I am content thou go, + Although my love to thee can hardly suffer['t], + Regarding still the danger of thy life. + + _Joyeux._ Thanks to your majesty: and so, I take my leave.-- + Farewell to my Lord of Guise, and Epernoun. + + _Guise._ Health and hearty farewell to my Lord Joyeux. + [_Exit_ JOYEUX. + + _Henry._ So kindly, cousin of Guise, you and your wife + Do both salute our lovely minions. 11 + Remember you the letter, gentle sir, + Which your wife writ + To my dear minion, and her chosen friend? [_Makes horns at_ GUISE. + + _Guise._ How now, my Lord! faith, this is more than need. + Am I thus to be jested at and scorn'd? + 'Tis more than kingly or emperious: + And, sure, if all the proudest kings + In Christendom should bear me such derision, + They should know how I scorn'd them and their mocks. 20 + I love your minions! dote on them yourself; + I know none else but holds them in disgrace; + And here, by all the saints in heaven, I swear, + That villain for whom I bear this deep disgrace, + Even for your words that have incens'd me so, + Shall buy that strumpet's favour with his blood! + Whether he have dishonour'd me or no, + _Par la mort de Dieu_[408] _il mourra!_ [_Exit._ + + _Henry._ Believe me, this jest bites sore. + + _Eper._ My lord, 'twere good to make them friends, 30 + For his oaths are seldom spent in vain. + + _Enter_ MUGEROUN. + + _Henry._ How now, Mugeroun! mett'st thou not the Guise at the door? + + _Mug._ Not I, my lord; what if I had? + + _Henry._ Marry, if thou hadst, thou mightst have had the stab, + For he hath solemnly sworn thy death. + + _Mug._ I may be stabb'd, and live till he be dead: + But wherefore bears he me such deadly hate? + + _Henry._ Because his wife bears thee such kindly love. + + _Mug._ If that be all, the next time that I meet her, + I'll make her shake off love with her heels. 40 + But which way is he gone? I'll go take[409] a walk + On purpose from the court to meet with him. [_Exit._ + + _Henry._ I like not this. Come, Epernoun, + Let us go seek the duke, and make them friends. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE XVIII. + + _Alarums within, and a cry_--"_The_ DUKE JOYEUX _is slain_." + + _Enter_[410] _the_ KING OF NAVARRE, BARTUS, _and train_. + + _Nav._ The duke is slain, and all his power dispers'd, + And we are graced with wreaths of victory. + Thus God, we see, doth ever guide the right, + To make his glory great upon the earth. + + _Bar._ The terror of this happy victory, + I hope, will make the king surcease his hate, + And either never manage army more, + Or else employ them in some better cause. + + _Nav._ How many noblemen have lost their lives + In prosecution of these cruel arms, 10 + Is ruth, and almost death, to call to mind. + But God we know will always put them down + That lift themselves against the perfect truth; + Which I'll maintain so long as life doth last, + + And with the Queen of England join my force + To beat the papal monarch from our lands, + And keep those relics from our countries' coasts. + Come, my lords; now that this storm is over-past, + Let us away with triumph to our tents. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE XIX. + + _Enter_[411] _a_ Soldier. + + _Sold._ Sir, to you, sir, that dares make the duke a + cuckold, and use a counterfeit key to his privy-chamber-door; + and although you take out nothing but your own, + yet you put in that which displeaseth him, and so forestall + his market, and set up your standing where you should + not; and whereas he is your landlord, you will take upon + you to be his, and till the ground that he himself should + occupy, which is his own free land; if it be not too free--there's + the question; and though I come not to take + possession (as I would I might!), yet I mean to keep you + out; which I will, if this gear hold. 11 + + _Enter_ MUGEROUN. + + What, are ye come so soon? have at ye, sir! + [_Shoots at_ MUGEROUN _and kills him_.[412] + + _Enter_ GUISE _and_ Attendants. + + _Guise_ [_Giving a purse_]. Hold thee, tall soldier, + take thee this, and fly. [_Exit_ Soldier. + Lie there, the king's delight, and Guise's scorn! + Revenge it, Henry, as thou list or dare; + I did it only in despite of thee. + [Attendants _bear off_ MUGEROUN'S _body_. + + _Enter_ KING HENRY _and_ EPERNOUN. + + _Henry._ My Lord of Guise, we understand + That you have gatherèd a power of men: + What your intent is yet we cannot learn, + But we presume it is not for our good. 20 + + _Guise._ Why, I am no traitor to the crown of France; + What I have done, 'tis for the Gospel's sake. + + _Eper._ Nay, for the Pope's sake, and thine own benefit. + What peer in France but thou, aspiring Guise, + Durst be in arms without the king's consent? + I challenge thee for treason in the cause. + + _Guise._ Ah, base Epernoun! were not his highness here, + Thou shouldst perceive the Duke of Guise is mov'd. + + _Henry._ Be patient, Guise, and threat not Epernoun, + Lest thou perceive the king of France be mov'd. 30 + + _Guise._ Why, I'm a prince of the Valois line, + Therefore an enemy to the Bourbonites; + I am a juror in the holy league, + And therefore hated of the Protestants: + What should I do but stand upon my guard? + And, being able, I'll keep an host in pay. + + _Eper._ Thou able to maintain an host in pay, + That liv'st by foreign exhibition![413] + The Pope and King of Spain are thy good friends; + Else all France knows how poor a duke thou art. 40 + + _Henry._ I, those are they that feed him with their gold, + To countermand our will, and check our friends. + + _Guise._ My lord, to speak more plainly, thus it is. + Being animated by religious zeal, + I mean to muster all the power I can, + To overthrow those factious[414] Puritans: + And know, my lord, the Pope will sell his triple crown, + I, and the Catholic Philip, king of Spain, + Ere I shall want, will cause his Indians + To rip the golden bowels of America. 50 + Navarre, that cloaks them underneath his wings, + Shall feel the house of Lorraine is his foe. + Your highness needs not fear mine army's force; + 'Tis for your safety, and your enemies' wreck. + + _Henry._ Guise, wear our crown, and be thou king of France, + And, as dictator, make or war or peace, + Whilst I cry _placet_, like a senator! + I cannot brook thy haughty insolence: + Dismiss thy camp, or else by our edict + Be thou proclaim'd a traitor throughout France. 60 + + _Guise._ The choice is hard; I must dissemble.-- [_Aside._ + My lord, in token of my true humility, + And simple meaning to your majesty, + I kiss your grace's hand, and take my leave, + Intending to dislodge my camp with speed. + + _Henry._ Then farewell, Guise; the king and thou are friends. + [_Exit_ GUISE. + _Eper._ But trust him not, my lord; for, had your highness + Seen with what a pomp he enter'd Paris, + And how the citizens with gifts and shows + Did entertain him, 70 + And promisèd to be at his command-- + Nay, they fear'd not to speak it in the streets, + That the Guise durst stand in arms against the king, + For not effecting of his holiness' will. + + _Henry._ Did they of Paris entertain him so? + Then means he present treason to our state. + Well, let me alone.--Who's within there? + + _Enter an_ Attendant, _with pen and ink_. + + Make a discharge of all my council straight, + And I'll subscribe my name, and seal it straight.-- + [Attendant _writes_. + My head shall be my council; they are false; 80 + And, Epernoun, I will be rul'd by thee. + + _Eper._ My lord, + I think, for safety of your royal person, + It would be good the Guise were made away, + And so to quite[415] your grace of all suspect. + + _Henry._ First let us set our hand and seal to this, + And then I'll tell thee what I mean to do.-- [_Writes._ + So; convey this to the council presently. + [_Exit_ Attendant. + And, Epernoun, though I seem mild and calm, + Think not but I am tragical within. 90 + I'll secretly convey me unto Blois; + For, now that Paris takes the Guise's part, + Here is no staying for the king of France, + Unless he mean to be betray'd and die: + But, as I live, so sure the Guise shall die. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE XX. + + _Enter_[416] _the_ KING OF NAVARRE, + _reading a letter, and_ BARTUS. + + _Nav._ My lord, I am advertisèd from France + That the Guise hath taken arms against the king, + And that Paris is revolted from his grace. + + _Bar._ Then hath your grace fit opportunity + To show your love unto the king of France, + Offering him aid against his enemies, + Which cannot but be thankfully receiv'd. + + _Nav._ Bartus, it shall be so: post, then, to France, + And there salute his highness in our name; + Assure him all the aid we can provide 10 + Against the Guisians and their complices. + Bartus, be gone: commend me to his grace, + And tell him, ere it be long, I'll visit him. + + _Bar._ I will, my lord. [_Exit._ + + _Nav._ Pleshè! + + _Enter_ PLESHÈ. + + _Pleshè._ My lord? + + _Nav._ Pleshè, go muster up our men with speed, + And let them march away to France amain, + For we must aid the king against the Guise. + Begone, I say; 'tis time that we were there. 20 + + _Pleshè._ I go, my lord. [_Exit._ + + _Nav._ That wicked Guise, I fear me much, will be + The ruin of that famous realm of France; + For his aspiring thoughts aim at the crown, + And[417] takes his vantage on religion, + To plant the Pope and Popelings in the realm, + And bind it wholly to the see of Rome. + But, if that God do prosper mine attempts, + And send us safely to arrive in France, + We'll beat him back, and drive him to his death, 30 + That basely seeks the ruin of his realm. + [_Exit._ + + + SCENE XXI. + + _Enter_[418] _the_ Captain of the Guard, _and + three_ Murderers. + + _Cap._ Come on, sirs. What, are you resolutely bent, + Hating the life and honour of the Guise? + What, will you not fear, when you see him come? + + _First Murd._ Fear him, said you? tush, were he here, + we would kill him presently. + + _Sec. Murd._ O that his heart were leaping in my hand! + + _Third Murd._ But when will he come, that we may murder him? + + _Cap._ Well, then, I see you are resolute. + + _First Murd._ Let us alone; I warrant you. + + _Cap._ Then, sirs, take your standings within this chamber; 10 + For anon the Guise will come. + + _All three Murderers._ You will give us our money? + + _Cap._ I, I, fear not: stand close: so; be resolute. + [_Exeunt_ Murderers. + Now falls the star whose influence governs France, + Whose light was deadly to the Protestants: + Now must he fall, and perish in his height. + + _Enter_ KING HENRY _and_ EPERNOUN. + + _Henry._ Now, captain of my guard, are these murderers ready? + + _Cap._ They be, my good lord. + + _Henry._ But are they resolute, and armed to kill, + Hating the life and honour of the Guise? 20 + + _Cap._ I warrant ye, my lord. [_Exit._ + + _Henry._ Then come, proud Guise, and here disgorge thy breast, + Surcharged with surfeit of ambitious thoughts; + Breathe out that life wherein my death was hid, + And end thy endless treasons with thy death. [_Knocking within._ + + _Guise_ [_within_]. _Holà, varlet, hé!_--Epernoun, + where is the king? + + _Eper._ Mounted[419] his royal cabinet. + + _Guise_ [_within_]. I prithee, tell him that the Guise is here. + + _Eper._ An please your grace, the Duke of Guise doth crave + Access unto your highness. + + _Henry._ Let him come in.-- 30 + Come, Guise, and see thy traitorous guile outreach'd, + And perish in the pit thou mad'st for me. + + _Enter_ GUISE. + + _Guise._ Good morrow to your majesty. + + _Henry._ Good morrow to my loving cousin of Guise: + How fares it this morning with your excellence? + + _Guise._ I heard your majesty was scarcely pleased, + That in the court I bear so great a train. + + _Henry._ They were to blame that said I was displeased; + And you, good cousin, to imagine it. + 'Twere hard with me, if I should doubt my kin, 40 + Or be suspicious of my dearest friends, + Cousin, assure you I am resolute, + Whatsoever any whisper in mine ears, + Not to suspect disloyalty in thee: + And so, sweet coz, farewell. [_Exit with_ EPERNOUN. + + _Guise._ So; + Now sues the king for favour to the Guise, + And all his minions stoop when I command: + Why, this 'tis to have an army in the field. + Now, by the holy sacrament, I swear, 50 + As ancient Romans o'er their captive lords, + So will I triumph o'er this wanton king; + And he shall follow my proud chariot's wheels. + Now do I but begin to look about, + And all my former time was spent in vain. + Hold, sword, + For in thee is the Duke of Guise's hope. + + _Re-enter_ Third Murderer. + + Villain, why dost thou look so ghastly? speak. + + _Third Murd._ O, pardon me, my Lord of Guise! + + _Guise._ Pardon thee! why, what hast thou done? 60 + + _Third Murd._ O my lord, I am one of them that is set + to murder you! + + _Guise._ To murder me, villain! + + _Third Murd._ I, my lord: the rest have ta'en their + standings in the next room; therefore, good my lord, go not forth. + + _Guise._ Yet Cæsar shall go forth. + Let mean conceits and baser men fear death: + Tut, they are peasants; I am Duke of Guise; + And princes with their looks engender fear. 70 + + _First Murd._ [_within_] Stand close; he is coming; I + know him by his voice. + + _Guise._ As pale as ashes![420] nay, then, it is time + To look about. + + _Enter_ First _and_ Second Murderers. + + _First and Sec. Murderers._ Down with him, down with him! + [_They stab_ GUISE. + _Guise._ O, I have my death's wound! give me leave to speak. + + _Sec. Murd._ Then pray to God, and ask forgiveness of the king. + + _Guise._ Trouble me not; I ne'er offended him, + Nor will I ask forgiveness of the king. + O, that I have not power to stay my life, + Nor immortality to be revenged! 80 + To die by peasants, what a grief is this! + Ah, Sixtus, be reveng'd upon the king! + Philip and Parma, I am slain for you! + Pope, excommunicate, Philip, depose + The wicked branch of curs'd Valois his line! + _Vive la messe!_ perish Huguenots! + Thus Cæsar did go forth, and thus he died. [_Dies._ + + _Enter the_ Captain of the Guard. + + _Cap._ What, have you done? + Then stay a while, and I'll go call the king. + But see, where he comes. 90 + + _Enter_ KING HENRY, EPERNOUN, _and_ Attendants. + + My lord, see, where the Guise is slain. + + _Henry._ Ah, this sweet sight is physic to my soul! + Go fetch his son for to behold his death.-- + [_Exit an_ Attendant. + Surcharg'd with guilt of thousand massacres, + Monsieur of Lorraine, sink away to hell! + And, in remembrance of those bloody broils, + To which thou didst allure me, being alive, + And here, in presence of you all, I swear, + I ne'er was king of France until this hour. + This is the traitor that hath spent my gold 100 + In making foreign wars and civil broils. + Did he not draw a sort[421] of English priests + From Douay to the seminary at Rheims, + To hatch forth treason 'gainst their natural queen? + Did he not cause the king of Spain's huge fleet + To threaten England, and to menace me? + Did he not injure Monsieur that's deceas'd? + Hath he not made me, in the Pope's defence, + To spend the treasure, that should strength my land, + In civil broils between Navarre and me? 110 + Tush, to be short, he meant to make me monk, + Or else to murder me, and so be king. + Let Christian princes, that shall hear of this + (As all the world shall know our Guise is dead), + Rest satisfied with this, that here I swear, + Ne'er was there king of France so yoked as I. + + _Eper._ My lord, here is his son. + + _Enter_ GUISE'S Son. + + _Henry._ Boy, look where your father lies. + + _G.'s Son._ My father slain! who hath done this deed? + + _Henry._ Sirrah, 'twas I that slew him; and will slay 120 + Thee too, an thou prove such a traitor. + + _G.'s Son._ Art thou king, and hast done this bloody deed? + I'll be reveng'd. [_Offers to throw his dagger._ + + _Henry._ Away to prison with him! I'll clip his wings + Or e'er he pass my hands. Away with him! + [_Some of the_ Attendants _bear off_ GUISE'S Son. + But what availeth that this traitor's dead, + When Duke Dumaine, his brother, is alive, + And that young cardinal that is grown so proud? + Go to the governor of Orleans, + And will[422] him, in my name, to kill the duke. 130 + [_To the_ Captain of the Guard. + Get you away, and strangle the cardinal. + [_To the_ Murderers. + + [_Exeunt_ Captain of the Guard _and_ Murderers. + These two will make one entire Duke of Guise, + Especially with our old mother's help. + + _Eper._ My lord, see, where she comes, as if she droop'd + To hear these news. + + _Henry._ And let her droop; my heart is light enough. + + _Enter_ CATHERINE _the Queen Mother._ + + Mother, how like you this device of mine? + I slew the Guise, because I would be king. + + _Cath._ King! why, so thou wert before: + Pray God thou be a king now this is done! 140 + + _Henry._ Nay, he was king, and countermanded me: + But now I will be king, and rule myself, + And make the Guisians stoop that are alive. + + _Cath._ I cannot speak for grief.--When thou wast born, + I would that I had murdered thee, my son! + My son? thou art a changeling, not my son: + I curse thee, and exclaim thee miscreant, + Traitor to God and to the realm of France! + + _Henry._ Cry out, exclaim, howl till thy throat be hoarse! + The Guise is slain, and I rejoice therefore: 150 + And now will I to arms.--Come, Epernoun, + And let her grieve her heart out, if she will. + [_Exit with_ EPERNOUN. + _Cath._. Away! leave me alone to meditate. + [_Exeunt_ Attendants. + Sweet Guise, would he had died, so thou wert here! + To whom shall I bewray my secrets now, + Or who will help to build religion? + The Protestants will glory and insult; + Wicked Navarre will get the crown of France; + The Popedom cannot stand; all goes to wreck; + And all for thee, my Guise! What may I do? 160 + But sorrow seize upon my toiling soul! + For, since the Guise is dead, I will not live. [_Exit._ + + + SCENE XXII. + + _Enter_[423] _two_ Murderers, _dragging in the_ CARDINAL. + + _Card._ Murder me not; I am a cardinal. + + _First Murd._ Wert thou the Pope thou might'st not scape from us. + + _Card._ What, will you file your hands with churchmen's blood? + + _Sec. Murd._ Shed your blood! O Lord, no! for we + intend to strangle you. + + _Card._ Then there is no remedy, but I must die? + + _First Murd._ No remedy; therefore prepare yourself. + + _Card._ Yet lives my brother Duke Dumaine, and many mo, + To revenge our deaths upon that cursèd king; + Upon whose heart may all the Furies gripe, 10 + And with their paws drench his black soul in hell! + + _First Murd._ Yours, my Lord Cardinal, you should have said.-- + [_They strangle him._ + So, pluck amain: + He is hard-hearted; therefore pull with violence. + Come, take him away. + [_Exeunt with the body._ + + + SCENE XXIII. + + _Enter_[424] DUMAINE, _reading a letter; with others._ + + _Dum._ My noble brother murder'd by the king! + O, what may I do for to revenge thy death? + The king's alone, it cannot satisfy. + Sweet Duke of Guise, our prop to lean upon, + Now thou art dead, here is no stay for us. + I am thy brother, and I'll revenge thy death, + And root Valois his line from forth of France; + And beat proud Bourbon to his native home, + That basely seeks to join with such a king, + Whose murderous thoughts will be his overthrow. 10 + He will'd the governor of Orleans, in his name, + That I with speed should have been put to death; + But that's prevented, for to end his life, + And[425] all those traitors to the Church of Rome + That durst attempt to murder noble Guise. + + _Enter_ Friar. + + _Fri._ My lord, I come to bring you news that your + brother the Cardinal of Lorraine, by the king's consent, + is lately strangled unto death. + + _Dum._ My brother Cardinal slain, and I alive! + O words of power to kill a thousand men!-- 20 + Come, let us away, and levy men; + 'Tis war that must assuage this tyrant's pride. + + _Fri._ My lord, hear me but speak. + I am a friar of the order of the Jacobins, + That for my conscience' sake will kill the king. + + _Dum._ But what doth move thee, above the rest, to do the deed? + + _Fri._ O my lord, I have been a great sinner in my days! + and the deed is meritorious. + + _Dum._ But how wilt thou get opportunity? 30 + + _Fri._ Tush, my lord, let me alone for that. + + _Dum._ Friar, come with me; + We will go talk more of this within. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE XXIV. + + _Drums and Trumpets. Enter_[426] KING HENRY, + _the_ KING OF NAVARRE, EPERNOUN, + BARTUS, PLESHÈ, Soldiers, _and_ Attendants. + + _Henry._ Brother of Navarre, I sorrow much + That ever I was prov'd your enemy, + And that the sweet and princely mind you bear + Was ever troubled with injurious wars. + I vow, as I am lawful king of France, + To recompense your reconcilèd love, + With all the honours and affections + That ever I vouchsaf'd my dearest friends. + + _Nav._ It is enough if that Navarre may be + Esteemèd faithful to the king of France, 10 + Whose service he may still command till death. + + _Henry._ Thanks to my kingly brother of Navarre. + Then here we'll lie before Lutetia-walls,[427] + Girting this strumpet city with our siege, + Till, surfeiting with our afflicting arms, + She cast her hateful stomach to the earth. + + _Enter a_ Messenger. + + _Mes._ An it please your majesty, here is a friar of the + order of the Jacobins, sent from the President of Paris, + that craves access unto your grace. + + _Henry._ Let him come in. [_Exit_ Mess. 20 + + _Enter_ Friar, _with a letter._ + + _Eper._ I like not this friar's look: + 'Twere not amiss, my lord, if he were search'd. + + _Henry._ Sweet Epernoun, our friars are holy men. + And will not offer violence to their king + For all the wealth and treasure of the world.-- + Friar, thou dost acknowledge me thy king? + + _Fri._ I, my good lord, and will die therein. + + _Henry._ Then come thou near, and tell what news thou bring'st. + + _Fri._ My lord, + The President of Paris greets your grace, 30 + And sends his duty by these speedy lines, + Humbly craving your gracious reply. [_Gives letter._ + + _Henry._ I'll read them, friar, and then I'll answer thee. + + _Fri._ _Sancte Jacobe_,[428] now have mercy upon me! + + [_Stabs the king with a knife, as he reads the + letter; and then the king gets the knife, and kills him._ + + _Eper._ O my lord, let him live a while! + + _Henry._ No, let the villain die, and feel in hell + Just torments for his treachery. + + _Nav._ What, is your highness hurt? + + _Henry._ Yes, Navarre; but not to death, I hope. + + _Nav._ God shield your grace from such a sudden death!-- 40 + Go call a surgeon hither straight. [_Exit an_ Attendant. + + _Henry._ What irreligious pagans' parts be these, + Of such as hold them of the holy church! + Take hence that damnèd villain from my sight. + [Attendants _carry out the_ Friar's _body._ + _Eper._ Ah, had your highness let him live, + We might have punish'd him to his deserts! + + _Henry._ Sweet Epernoun, all rebels under heaven + Shall take example by his[429] punishment, + How they bear arms against their sovereign.-- + Go call the English agent hither straight: 50 + [_Exit an_ Attendant. + I'll send my sister England news of this, + And give her warning of her treacherous foes. + + _Enter a_ Surgeon. + + _Nav._ Pleaseth your grace to let the surgeon search your wound? + + _Henry._ The wound, I warrant ye, is deep, my lord.-- + Search, surgeon, and resolve me what thou see'st. + [_The_ Surgeon _searches the wound._ + + _Enter the_ English Agent. + + Agent for England, send thy mistress word + What this detested Jacobin hath done. + Tell her, for all this, that I hope to live; + Which if I do, the papal monarch goes + To wreck, and antichristian kingdom falls: 60 + These bloody hands shall tear his triple crown, + And fire accursèd Rome about his ears; + I'll fire his crazèd buildings, and enforce + The papal towers to kiss the lowly[430] earth. + Navarre, give me thy hand: I here do swear + To ruinate that wicked Church of Rome, + That hatcheth up such bloody practices; + And here protest eternal love to thee, + And to the Queen of England specially, + Whom God hath bless'd for hating papistry. 70 + + _Nav._ These words revive my thoughts, and comfort me, + To see your highness in this virtuous mind. + + _Henry._ Tell me, surgeon, shall I live? + + _Surg._ Alas, my lord, the wound is dangerous, + For you are stricken with a poison'd knife! + + _Henry._ A poison'd knife! what, shall the French king die, + Wounded and poison'd both at once? + + _Eper._ O, that + That damnèd villain were alive again, 79 + That we might torture him with some new-found death! + + _Bar._ He died a death too good: + The devil of hell torture his wicked soul! + + _Henry._ Ah, curse him not, sith he is dead!-- + O, the fatal poison works within my breast!-- + Tell me, surgeon, and flatter not--may I live? + + _Surg._ Alas, my lord, your highness cannot live! + + _Nav._ Surgeon, why say'st thou so? the king may live. + + _Henry._ O no, Navarre! thou must be king of France. + + _Nav._ Long may you live, and still be king of France! + + _Eper._ Or else, die Epernoun! 90 + + _Henry._ Sweet Epernoun, thy king must die.--My lords, + Fight in the quarrel of this valiant prince, + For he's your lawful king, and my next heir; + Valois's line ends in my tragedy. + Now let the house of Bourbon wear the crown; + And may it ne'er end in blood as mine hath done!-- + Weep not, sweet Navarre, but revenge my death.-- + Ah, Epernoun, is this thy love to me? + Henry, thy king, wipes off these childish tears, + And bids thee whet thy sword on Sixtus' bones, 100 + That it may keenly slice the Catholics. + He loves me not [the most[431]] that sheds most tears, + But he that makes most lavish of his blood. + Fire Paris, where these treacherous rebels lurk.-- + I die, Navarre: come bear me to my sepulchre. + Salute the Queen of England in my name, + And tell her Henry dies her faithful friend. [_Dies._ + + _Nav._ Come, lords, take up the body of the king, + That we may see it honourably interr'd: + And then I vow so[432] to revenge his death, 110 + As Rome, and all these popish prelates there, + Shall curse the time that e'er Navarre was king, + And ruled in France by Henry's fatal death. + [_They march out, with the body of_ KING HENRY + _lying on four men's shoulders, with a dead_ + _march, drawing weapons on the ground._ + + + + + THE TRAGEDY + OF + DIDO, QUEEN OF CARTHAGE. + + + + +_Dido_ was published in 1594, with the following title:-- + +_The Tragedie of Dido Queene of Carthage: Played by the Children of her +Maiesties Chappell. Written by Christopher Marlowe, and Thomas Nash, +Gent._ + + + _Actors._ + + _Jupiter._ _Ascanius._ + _Ganimed._ _Dido._ + _Venus._ _Anna._ + _Cupid._ _Achates._ + _Juno._ _Ilioneus._ + _Mercurie, or_ _Iarbas._ + _Hermes._ _Cloanthes._ + _Æneas._ _Sergestus._ + +_At London, Printed, by the Widdowe Orwin, for Thomas Woodcocke, and are +to be sold at his shop, in Paules Churchyeard, at the signe of the +blacke Beare._ 1594. 4_to._ + +A copy of this edition is in the Bodleian Library; and I am indebted to +my friend Mr. C. H. Firth for kindly comparing Dyce's text with the text +of the Bodleian copy. + + + _PERSONS REPRESENTED._ + + JUPITER. + GANYMEDE. + HERMES. + CUPID. + + JUNO. + VENUS. + + ÆNEAS. + ASCANIUS, his son. + ACHATES. + ILIONEUS. + CLOANTHUS. + SERGESTUS. + Other Trojans. + IARBAS. + Carthaginian Lords. + + DIDO. + ANNA, her sister. + Nurse. + + + + + THE TRAGEDY OF + DIDO, QUEEN OF CARTHAGE. + + + + + ACT I. + + + SCENE I. + + _Here the curtains draw: there is discovered_ JUPITER + _dandling_ GANYMEDE _upon his knee, and_ + HERMES _lying asleep._ + + _Jup._ Come, gentle Ganymede, and play with me; + I love thee well, say Juno what she will. + + _Gan._ I am much better for your worthless love, + That will not shield me from her shrewish blows! + To-day, whenas I filled into your cups, + And held the cloth of pleasance whiles you drank, + She reached me such a rap for that I spilled, + As made the blood run down about mine ears. + + _Jup._ What? dares she strike the darling of my thoughts? + By Saturn's soul, and this earth-threatening hair,[433] 10 + That, shaken thrice, makes nature's buildings quake, + I vow, if she but once frown on thee more, + To hang her, meteor-like, 'twixt heaven and earth, + And bind her, hand and foot, with golden cords, + As once I did for harming Hercules! + + _Gan._ Might I but see that pretty sport a-foot, + O, how would I with Helen's brother laugh, + And bring the gods to wonder at the game! + Sweet Jupiter, if e'er I pleased thine eye, + Or seemèd fair, wall'd-in with eagle's wings,[434] 20 + Grace my immortal beauty with this boon, + And I will spend my time in thy bright arms. + + _Jup._ What is't, sweet wag, I should deny thy youth? + Whose face reflects such pleasure to mine eyes, + As I, exhaled with thy fire-darting beams, + Have oft driven back the horses of the Night, + Whenas they would have haled thee from my sight. + Sit on my knee, and call for thy content, + Control proud Fate, and cut the thread of Time: + Why, are not all the gods at thy command, 30 + And heaven and earth the bounds of thy delight? + Vulcan[435] shall dance to make thee laughing-sport, + And my nine daughters sing when thou art sad; + From Juno's bird I'll pluck her spotted pride, + To make thee fans wherewith to cool thy face; + And Venus' swans shall shed their silver down, + To sweeten out the slumbers of thy bed; + Hermes no more shall show the world his wings, + If that thy fancy in his feathers dwell, + But, as this one, I'll tear them all from him, 40 + [_Plucks a feather from_ HERMES' _wings_. + Do thou but say, "their colour pleaseth me." + Hold here, my little love; these linked gems, [_Gives jewels._ + My Juno ware upon her marriage-day, + Put thou about thy neck, my own sweet heart, + And trick thy arms and shoulders with my theft. + + _Gan._ I would have a jewel for mine ear, + And a fine brooch to put in[to] my hat, + And then I'll hug with you an hundred times. + + _Jup._ And shall have, Ganymede, if thou wilt be my love. + + _Enter_ VENUS. + + _Ven._ I, this is it: you can sit toying there, 50 + And playing with that female wanton boy, + Whiles my Æneas wanders on the seas, + And rests a prey to every billow's pride. + Juno, false Juno, in her chariot's pomp, + Drawn through the heavens by steeds of Boreas' brood, + Made Hebe to direct her airy wheels; + Into the windy country of the clouds; + Where, finding Æolus entrenched with storms, + And guarded with a thousand grisly ghosts, + She humbly did beseech him for our bane, 60 + And charged him drown my son with all his train. + Then gan the winds break ope their brazen doors, + And all Æolia to be up in arms; + Poor Troy must now be sacked upon the sea, + And Neptune's waves be envious men of war; + Epeus' horse, to Ætna's hill transform'd, + Preparèd stands to wreck their wooden walls; + And Æolus, like Agamemnon, sounds + The surges, his fierce soldiers, to the spoil: + See how the night, Ulysses-like, comes forth, 70 + And intercepts the day, as Dolon erst! + Ay me! the stars supprised,[436] like Rhesus' steeds, + Are drawn by darkness forth Astræus' tents.[437] + What shall I do to save thee, my sweet boy? + Whenas the waves do threat our crystal world, + And Proteus, raising hills of floods on high, + Intends, ere long, to sport him in the sky.[438] + False Jupiter, reward'st thou virtue so? + What, is not piety exempt from woe? + Then die, Æneas, in thine innocence, 80 + Since that religion hath no recompense. + + _Jup._ Content thee, Cytherea, in thy care, + + Since thy Æneas' wandering fate is firm,[439] + Whose weary limbs shall shortly make repose + In those fair walls I promised him of yore. + But, first, in blood must his good fortune bud, + Before he be the lord of Turnus' town, + Or force her smile that hitherto hath frowned: + Three winters shall he with the Rutiles war, + And, in the end, subdue them with his sword; 90 + And full three summers likewise shall he waste + In managing those fierce barbarian minds; + Which once performed, poor Troy, so long suppressed, + From forth her ashes shall advance her head, + And flourish once again, that erst was dead. + But bright Ascanius, beauty's better work, + Who with the sun divides one radiant shape, + Shall build his throne amidst those starry towers + That earth-born Atlas, groaning, underprops: + No bounds, but heaven, shall bound his empery, 100 + Whose azured gates, enchasèd with his name, + Shall make the Morning haste her grey uprise, + To feed her eyes with his engraven fame. + Thus, in stout Hector's race, three hundred years[440] + The Roman sceptre royal shall remain, + Till that a princess-priest,[441] conceived by Mars, + Shall yield to dignity a double birth, + Who will eternish[442] Troy in their attempts. + + _Ven._ How may I credit these thy flattering terms, + When yet both sea and sands beset their ships, 110 + And Phoebus, as in Stygian pools, refrains + To taint his tresses in the Tyrrhene main? + + _Jup._ I will take order for that presently.-- + Hermes, awake! and haste to Neptune's realm, + Whereas the wind-god, warring now with fate, + Besiege[s] th' offspring of our kindly loins: + Charge him from me to turn his stormy powers, + And fetter them in Vulcan's sturdy brass, + That durst thus proudly wrong our kinsman's peace. [_Exit_ HERMES. + Venus, farewell: thy son shall be our care.-- 120 + Come, Ganymede, we must about this gear.[443] + [_Exeunt_ JUPITER _and_ GANYMEDE. + + _Ven._[444] Disquiet seas, lay down your swelling looks, + And court Æneas with your calmy cheer, + Whose beauteous burden well might make you proud, + Had not the heavens, conceiv'd with hell-born clouds, + Veil'd his resplendent glory from your view: + For my sake, pity him, Oceanus, + That erst-while issu'd from thy watery loins, + And had my being from thy bubbling froth. + Triton, I know, hath filled his trump with Troy, 130 + And therefore will take pity on his toil, + And call both Thetis and Cymothoe[445] + To succour him in this extremity. + + _Enter_ ÆNEAS, ASCANIUS, + ACHATES, _and others._ + + What do I see? my son now come on shore? + Venus, how art thou compassed with content, + The while thine eyes attract their sought-for joys! + Great Jupiter, still honoured mayst thou be + For this so friendly aid in time of need! + Here in this bush disguisèd will I stand, + Whiles my Æneas spends himself in plaints, 140 + And heaven and earth with his unrest acquaints. + + _Æn._ You sons of care, companions of my course, + Priam's misfortune follows us[2] by sea, + And Helen's rape doth haunt us[446] at our heels. + How many dangers have we overpass'd! + Both barking Scylla,[447] and the sounding rocks, + The Cyclops' shelves, and grim Ceraunia's seat, + Have you o'ergone, and yet remain alive. + Pluck up your hearts, since Fate still rests our friend, + And changing heavens may those good days return, 150 + Which Pergama did vaunt in all her pride. + + _Ach._ Brave prince of Troy, thou only art our god, + That by thy virtues free'st us from annoy, + And makes our hopes survive to coming[448] joys: + Do thou but smile, and cloudy heaven will clear, + Whose night and day descendeth from thy brows. + Though we be now in extreme misery, + And rest the map of weather-beaten woe,[449] + Yet shall the agèd sun shed forth his hair,[450] + To make us live unto our former heat, 160 + And every beast the forest doth send forth + Bequeath her young ones to our scanted food. + + _Asc._ Father, I faint; good father, give me meat. + + _Æn._ Alas! sweet boy, thou must be still a while, + Till we have fire to dress the meat we killed! + Gentle Achates, reach the tinder-box, + That we may make a fire to warm us with, + And roast our new-found victuals on this shore. + + _Ven._ See, what strange arts necessity finds out! + How near, my sweet Æneas, art thou driven! [_Aside._ + + _Æn._ Hold; take this candle, and go light a fire; 171 + You shall have leaves and windfall boughs enow, + Near to these woods, to roast your meat withal.-- + Ascanius, go and dry thy drenchèd limbs, + Whiles I with my Achates rove abroad, + To know what coast the wind hath driven us on, + Or whether men or beasts inhabit it. + [_Exeunt_ ASCANIUS _and others._ + + _Ach._ The air is pleasant, and the soil most fit + For cities and society's supports; + Yet much I marvel that I cannot find 180 + No steps of men imprinted in the earth. + + _Ven._ Now is the time for me to play my part.-- [_Aside._ + Ho, young men! saw you, as you came,[451] + Any of all my sisters wandering here, + Having a quiver girded to her side, + And clothèd in a spotted leopard's skin? + + _Æn._ I neither saw nor heard of any such. + But what may I, fair virgin, call your name, + Whose looks set forth no mortal form to view, + Nor speech bewrays aught human in thy birth? 190 + Thou art a goddess that delud'st our eyes, + And shrouds thy beauty in this borrow'd shape; + But whether thou the Sun's bright sister be, + Or one of chaste Diana's fellow-nymphs, + Live happy in the height of all content, + And lighten our extremes with this one boon, + As to instruct us under what good heaven + We breathe as now, and what this world is called + On which by tempests' fury we are cast: + Tell us, O, tell us, that are ignorant! 200 + And this right hand shall make thy altars crack + With mountain-heaps of milk-white sacrifice. + + _Ven._ Such honour, stranger, do I not affect: + It is the use for Tyrian[452] maids to wear + Their bow and quiver in this modest sort, + And suit themselves in purple for the nonce, + That they may trip more lightly o'er the lawnds,[453] + And overtake the tuskèd boar in chase. + But for the land whereof thou dost inquire, + It is the Punic kingdom, rich and strong, 210 + Adjoining on Agenor's stately town, + The kingly seat of Southern Libya, + Whereas Sidonian Dido rules as queen. + But what are you that ask of me these things? + Whence may you come, or whither will you go? + + _Æn._ Of Troy am I, Æneas is my name; + Who, driven by war from forth my native world, + Put sails to sea to seek out Italy; + And my divine descent from sceptred Jove: + With twice twelve Phrygian ships I plough'd the deep, 220 + And made that way my mother Venus led; + But of them all scarce seven do anchor safe, + And they so wrecked and weltered by the waves, + As every tide tilts 'twixt their oaken sides; + And all of them, unburdened of their load, + Are ballassèd with billows' watery weight. + But hapless I, God wot, poor and unknown, + Do trace these Libyan deserts, all despised, + Exiled forth Europe and wide Asia both, + And have not any coverture but heaven. 230 + + _Ven._ Fortune hath favour'd thee, whate'er thou be, + In sending thee unto this courteous coast. + A' God's name, on! and haste thee to the court, + Where Dido will receive ye with her smiles; + And for thy ships, which thou supposest lost, + Not one of them hath perish'd in the storm, + But are arrivèd safe, not far from hence: + And so I leave thee to thy fortune's lot, + Wishing good luck unto thy wandering steps. [_Exit._ + + _Æn._ Achates, 'tis my mother that is fled; 240 + I know her by the movings of her feet.-- + Stay, gentle Venus, fly not from thy son! + Too cruel, why wilt thou forsake me thus, + Or in these shades[454] deceiv'st mine eyes so oft? + Why talk we not together hand in hand, + And tell our griefs in more familiar terms? + But thou art gone, and leav'st me here alone, + To dull the air with my discoursive moan. + [_Exuent._ + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_[455] IARBUS, _followed by_ ILIONEUS, + CLOANTHUS,[456] SERGESTUS, _and others_. + + _Ili._ Follow, ye Trojans, follow this brave lord, + And plain to him the sum of your distress. + + _Iar._ Why, what are you, or wherefore do you sue? + + _Ili._ Wretches[457] of Troy, envied of the winds, + That crave such favour at your honour's feet + As poor distressèd misery may plead: + Save, save, O, save our ships from cruel fire, + That do complain the wounds of thousand waves, + And spare our lives, whom every spite pursues! + We come not, we, to wrong your Libyan gods, 10 + Or steal your household Lares from their shrines; + Our hands are not prepared to lawless spoil. + Nor armèd to offend in any kind; + Such force is far from our unweapon'd thoughts + Whose fading weal, of victory forsook, + Forbids all hope to harbour near our hearts. + + _Iar._ But tell me, Trojans, Trojans if you be, + Unto what fruitful quarters were ye bound, + Before that Boreas buckled with[458] your sails? + + _Clo._ There is a place, Hesperia termed by us, 20 + An ancient empire, famousèd for arms, + And fertile in fair Ceres' furrowed wealth, + Which now we call Italia, of his name + That in such peace long time did rule the same. + Thither made we; + When, suddenly, gloomy Orion rose, + And led our ships into the shallow sands, + Whereas the southern wind with brackish breath + Dispersed them all amongst the wreckful rocks: + From thence a few of us escaped to land; 30 + The rest, we fear, are folded in the floods. + + _Iar._ Brave men-at-arms, abandon fruitless fears, + Since Carthage knows to entertain distress. + + _Serg._ I, but the barbarous sort do threat our ships, + And will not let us lodge upon the sands; + In multitudes they swarm unto the shore, + And from the first earth interdict our feet. + + _Iar._ Myself will see they shall not trouble ye: + Your men and you shall banquet in our court, + And every Trojan be as welcome here 40 + As Jupiter to silly Baucis'[459] house. + Come in with me; I'll bring ye to my queen, + Who shall confirm my words with further deeds. + + _Serg._ Thanks, gentle lord, for such unlook'd-for grace: + Might we but once more see Æneas' face, + Then would we hope to quite such friendly turns, + As shall[460] surpass the wonder of our speech. + [_Exeunt._ + + + + + ACT II. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_[461] ÆNEAS, ACHATES, ASCANIUS, _and others_. + + _Æn._ Where am I now? these should be Carthage-walls. + + _Ach._ Why stands my sweet Æneas thus amaz'd? + + _Æn._ O my Achates, Theban Niobe, + Who for her sons' death wept out life and breath, + And, dry with grief, was turned into a stone, + Had not such passions in her head as I! + Methinks, + That town there should be Troy, yon Ida's hill, + There Xanthus' stream, because here's Priamus; + And when I know it is not, then I die. 10 + + _Ach._ And in this humour is Achates too; + I cannot choose but fall upon my knees, + And kiss his hand. O, where is Hecuba? + Here she was wont to sit; but, saving air, + Is nothing here; and what is this but stone?[462] + + _Æn._ O, yet this stone doth make Æneas weep! + And would my prayers (as Pygmalion's did) + Could give it life, that under his condùct + We might sail back to Troy, and be revenged + On these hard-hearted Grecians which rejoice 20 + That nothing now is left of Priamus! + O, Priamus is left, and this is he! + Come, come aboard; pursue the hateful Greeks. + + _Ach._ What means Æneas? + + _Æn._ Achates, though mine eyes say this is stone, + Yet thinks my mind that this is Priamus; + And when my grievèd heart sighs and says no, + Then would it leap out to give Priam life.-- + O, were I not at all, so thou mightst be;-- + Achates, see, King Priam wags his hand! 30 + He is alive; Troy is not overcome! + + _Ach._ Thy mind, Æneas, that would have it so, + Deludes thy eye-sight; Priamus is dead. + + _Æn._ Ah, Troy is sack'd, and Priamus is dead! + And why should poor Æneas be alive? + + _Asc._ Sweet father, leave to weep; this is not he, + For, were it Priam, he would smile on me. + + _Ach._ Æneas, see, here come the citizens: + Leave to lament, lest they laugh at our fears.[463] + + _Enter_ CLOANTHUS, SERGESTUS, ILIONEUS, _and others_. + + _Æn._ Lords of this town, or whatsoever style 40 + Belongs unto your name, vouchsafe of ruth + To tell us who inhabits this fair town, + What kind of people, and who governs them; + For we are strangers driven on this shore, + And scarcely know within what clime we are. + + _Ili._ I hear Æneas' voice, but see him not,[464] + For none of these can be our general. + + _Ach._ Like Ilioneus speaks this nobleman, + But Ilioneus goes not in such robes. + + _Serg._ You are Achates, or I [am] deceiv'd. 50 + + _Ach._ Æneas, see, Sergestus, or his ghost! + + _Ili._ He names[465] Æneas; let us kiss his feet. + + _Clo._ It is our captain; see, Ascanius! + + _Serg._ Live long Æneas and Ascanius! + + _Æn._ Achates, speak, for I am overjoyed. + + _Ach._ O Ilioneus, art thou yet alive? + + _Ili._ Blest be the time I see Achates' face! + + _Clo._ Why turns Æneas from his trusty friends? + + _Æn._ Sergestus, Ilioneus, and the rest, + Your sight amazed me. O, what destinies 60 + Have brought my sweet companions in such plight? + O, tell me, for I long to be resolved! + + _Ili._ Lovely Æneas, these are Carthage-walls; + And here Queen Dido wears th' imperial crown, + Who for Troy's sake hath entertained us all, + And clad us in these wealthy robes we wear. + Oft hath she asked us under whom we served; + And, when we told her, she would weep for grief, + Thinking the sea had swallowed up thy ships; + And, now she sees thee, how will she rejoice! 70 + + _Serg._ See, where her servitors pass through the hall,[466] + Bearing a banquet: Dido is not far. + + _Ili._ Look, where she comes; Æneas, view[467] her well. + + _Æn._ Well may I view her; but she sees not me. + + _Enter_ DIDO, ANNA, IARBAS, _and train_. + + _Dido._ What stranger art thou, that dost eye me thus? + + _Æn._ Sometime I was a Trojan, mighty queen; + But Troy is not:--what shall I say I am? + + _Ili._ Renowmèd Dido, 'tis our general, + Warlike Æneas. + + _Dido._ Warlike Æneas, and in these base robes! 80 + Go fetch the garment which Sichæus ware.-- + + [_Exit an_ Attendant, _who brings in the garment, + which_ ÆNEAS _puts on_. + + Brave prince, welcome to Carthage and to me, + Both happy that Æneas is our guest. + Sit in this chair, and banquet with a queen: + Æneas is Æneas, were he clad + In weeds as bad as ever Irus ware. + + _Æn._ This is no seat for one that's comfortless: + May it please your grace to let Æneas wait; + For though my birth be great, my fortune's mean, + Too mean to be companion to a queen. 90 + + _Dido._ Thy fortune may be greater than thy birth: + Sit down, Æneas, sit in Dido's place; + And, if this be thy son, as I suppose, + Here let him sit.--Be merry, lovely child. + + _Æn._ This place beseems me not; O, pardon me! + + _Dido._ I'll have it so; Æneas, be content. + + _Asc._ Madam, you shall be my mother. + + _Dido._ And so I will, sweet child.--Be merry, man: + Here's to thy better fortune and good stars. [_Drinks._ + + _Æn._ In all humility, I thank your grace. 100 + + _Dido._ Remember who thou art; speak like thyself: + Humility belongs to common grooms. + + _Æn._ And who so miserable as Æneas is? + + _Dido._ Lies it in Dido's hands to make thee blest? + Then be assur'd thou art not miserable. + + _Æn._ O Priamus, O Troy, O Hecuba! + + _Dido._ May I entreat thee to discourse at large, + And truly too, how Troy was overcome? + For many tales go of that city's fall, + And scarcely do agree upon one point: 110 + Some say Antenor did betray the town; + Others report 'twas Sinon's perjury; + But all in this, that Troy is overcome, + And Priam dead; yet how, we hear no news. + + _Æn._ A woful tale bids Dido to unfold, + Whose memory, like pale Death's stony mace, + Beats forth my senses from this troubled soul, + And makes Æneas sink at Dido's feet. + + _Dido._ What, faints Æneas to remember Troy, + In whose defence he fought so valiantly? 120 + Look up, and speak. + + _Æn._ Then speak Æneas, with Achilles' tongue: + And, Dido, and you Carthaginian peers, + Hear me; but yet with Myrmidons' harsh ears, + Daily inured to broils and massacres, + Lest you be mov'd too much with my sad tale. + The Grecian soldiers, tir'd with ten years' war, + Began to cry, "Let us unto our ships, + Troy is invincible, why stay we here?" + With whose outcries Atrides being appalled 130 + Summon'd the captains to his princely tent; + Who, looking on the scars we Trojans gave, + Seeing the number of their men decreas'd, + And the remainder weak and out of heart, + Gave up their voices to dislodge the camp, + And so in troops all marched to Tenedos;[468] + Where when they came, Ulysses on the sand + Assayed with honey words to turn them back; + And, as he spoke, to further his intent, + The winds did drive huge billows to the shore, 140 + And heaven was darkened with tempestuous clouds; + Then he alleg'd the gods would have them stay, + And prophesied Troy should be overcome: + And therewithal he call'd false Sinon forth, + A man compact of craft and perjury, + Whose ticing tongue was made of Hermes' pipe, + To force an hundred watchful eyes to sleep; + And him, Epeus having made the horse, + With sacrificing wreaths upon his head, + Ulysses sent to our unhappy town; 150 + Who, grovelling in the mire of Xanthus' banks, + His hands bound at his back, and both his eyes + Turned up to heaven, as one resolved to die, + Our Phrygian shepherd[s] haled within the gates, + And brought unto the court of Priamus; + To whom he used action so pitiful, + Looks so remorseful, vows so forcible, + As therewithal the old man overcome, + Kissed him, embraced him, and unloosed his bands; + And then--O Dido, pardon me! 160 + + _Dido._ Nay, leave not here; resolve me of the rest. + + _Æn._ O, th' enchanting words of that base slave + Made him to think Epeus' pine-tree horse + A sacrifice t' appease Minerva's wrath! + The rather, for that one Laocoon, + Breaking a spear upon his hollow breast, + Was with two wingèd serpents stung to death. + Whereat aghast, we were commanded straight + With reverence to draw it into Troy: + In which unhappy work was I employed; 170 + These hands did help to hale it to the gates, + Through which it could not enter, 'twas so huge,-- + O, had it never enter'd, Troy had stood! + But Priamus, impatient of delay, + Enforced a wide breach in that rampired wall + Which thousand battering-rams could never pierce, + And so came in this fatal instrument: + At whose accursèd feet, as overjoyed, + We banqueted, till, overcome with wine, + Some surfeited, and others soundly slept. 180 + Which Sinon viewing, caus'd the Greekish spies + To haste to Tenedos, and tell the camp: + Then he unlocked the horse; and suddenly, + From out his entrails, Neoptolemus, + Setting his spear upon the ground, leapt forth, + And, after him, a thousand Grecians more, + In whose stern faces shined the quenchless[469] fire + That after burnt the pride of Asia. + By this, the camp was come unto the walls, + And through the breach did march into the streets, 190 + Where, meeting with the rest; "Kill, kill!" they cried. + Frighted with this confusèd noise, I rose, + And, looking from a turret, might behold + Young infants swimming in their parents' blood, + Headless carcases pilèd up in heaps, + Virgins half-dead, dragged by their golden hair, + And with main force flung on a ring[470] of pikes, + Old men with swords thrust through their agèd sides, + Kneeling for mercy to a Greekish lad, 200 + Who with steel pole-axes dash'd out their brains. + Then buckled I mine armour, drew my sword, + And thinking to go down, came Hector's ghost,[471] + With ashy visage, blueish sulphur eyes, + His arms torn from his shoulders, and his breast + Furrowed with wounds, and, that which made me weep, + Thongs at his heels, by which Achilles' horse + Drew him in triumph through the Greekish camp, + Burst from the earth, crying "Æneas, fly! + Troy is a-fire, the Grecians have the town!" 210 + + _Dido._ O Hector, who weeps not to hear thy name? + + _Æn._ Yet flung I forth, and, desperate of my life, + Ran in the thickest throngs, and with this sword + Sent many of their savage ghosts to hell. + At last came Pyrrhus, fell and full of ire, + His harness[472] dropping blood, and on his spear + The mangled head of Priam's youngest son; + And, after him, his band of Myrmidons, + With balls of wild-fire in their murdering paws, + Which made the funeral flame that burnt fair Troy; 220 + All which hemmed me about, crying, "This is he!" + + _Dido._ Ah, how could poor Æneas scape their hands? + + _Æn._ My mother Venus, jealous of my health, + Convey'd me from their crookèd nets and bands; + So I escaped the furious Pyrrhus' wrath: + Who then ran to the palace of the king, + And at Jove's altar finding Priamus, + About whose withered neck hung Hecuba, + Folding his hand in hers, and jointly both + Beating their breasts, and falling on the ground, + He, with his falchion's point raised up at once, 230 + And with Megæra's eyes, star'd in their face, + Threatening a thousand deaths at every glance: + To whom the agèd king thus, trembling, spoke; + "Achilles' son, remember what I was, + Father of fifty sons, but they are slain; + Lord of my fortune, but my fortune's turned: + King of this city, but my Troy is fired; + And now am neither father, lord, or king: + Yet who so wretched but desires to live? + O, let me live, great Neoptolemus!" 240 + Not moved at all, but smiling at his tears, + This butcher, whilst his hands were yet held up, + Treading upon his breast, struck off his hands. + + _Dido._ O, end, Æneas! I can hear no more. + + _Æn._ At which the frantic queen leaped on his face, + And in his eyelids hanging by the nails, + A little while prolonged her husband's life. + At last, the soldiers pull'd her by the heels, + And swung her howling in the empty air, + Which sent an echo to the wounded king: 250 + Whereat he lifted up his bed-rid limbs, + And would have grappled with Achilles' son, + Forgetting both his want of strength and hands; + Which he disdaining, whisk'd his sword about, + And with the wind thereof the king fell down;[473] + Then from the navel to the throat at once + He ripp'd old Priam; at whose latter gasp + Jove's marble statue gan to bend the brow, + As loathing Pyrrhus for this wicked act. + Yet he, undaunted, took his father's flag, 260 + And dipped it in the old king's chill-cold blood, + And then in triumph ran into the streets, + Through which he could not pass for slaughter'd men; + So, leaning on his sword, he stood stone-still, + Viewing the fire wherewith rich Ilion burnt. + By this, I got my father on my back, + This young boy in mine arms, and by the hand + Led fair Creusa, my belovèd wife; + When thou, Achates, with thy sword mad'st way, + And we were round environed with the Greeks: 270 + O, there I lost my wife! and, had not we + Fought manfully, I had not told this tale. + Yet manhood would not serve; of force we fled; + And, as we went unto our ships, thou know'st + We saw Cassandra sprawling in the streets, + Whom Ajax ravished in Diana's fane,[474] + Her cheeks swollen with sighs, her hair all rent; + Whom I took up to bear unto our ships; + But suddenly the Grecians followed us, + And I, alas, was forced to let her lie! 280 + Then got we to our ships, and, being aboard, + Polyxena cried out, "Æneas, stay! + The Greeks pursue me; stay, and take me in!" + Moved with her voice, I leap'd into the sea, + Thinking to bear her on my back aboard, + For all our ships were launched into the deep, + And, as I swom, she, standing on the shore, + Was by the cruel Myrmidons surprised, + And, after that, by[475] Pyrrhus sacrificed. + + _Dido._ I die with melting ruth; Æneas, leave.[476] 290 + + _Anna._ O, what became of agèd Hecuba? + + _Iar._ How got Æneas to the fleet again? + + _Dido._ But how scaped Helen, she that caus'd this war? + + _Æn._ Achates, speak; sorrow hath tir'd me quite. + + _Ach._ What happen'd to the queen we cannot show; + We hear they led her captive into Greece: + As for Æneas, he swom quickly back; + And Helena betrayed Deiphobus, + Her lover, after Alexander died, + And so was reconciled to Menelaus. 300 + + _Dido._ O, had that ticing strumpet ne'er been born!-- + Trojan, thy ruthful tale hath made me sad: + Come, let us think upon some pleasing sport, + To rid me from these melancholy thoughts. + [_Exeunt all except_ ASCANIUS, _whom_ VENUS, _entering with_ CUPID + _at another door, takes by the sleeve as he is going off_. + + _Ven._ Fair child, stay thou with Dido's waiting-maid: + I'll give thee sugar-almonds, sweet conserves, + A silver girdle, and a golden purse, + And this young prince shall be thy playfellow. + + _Asc._ Are you Queen Dido's son? + + _Cup._ I; and my mother gave me this fine bow. 310 + + _Asc._ Shall I have such a quiver and a bow? + + _Ven._ Such bow, such quiver, and such golden shafts, + Will Dido give to sweet Ascanius. + For Dido's sake I take thee in my arms, + And stick these spangled feathers in thy hat: + Eat comfits in mine arms, and I will sing. [_Sings._ + Now is he fast asleep; and in his grove,[477] + Amongst green brakes, I'll lay Ascanius, + And strew him with sweet-smelling violets, + Blushing roses, purple hyacinth: 320 + These milk-white doves shall be his centronels,[478] + Who, if that any seek to do him hurt, + Will quickly fly to Cytherea's[479] fist. + Now, Cupid, turn thee to Ascanius' shape, + And go to Dido, who, instead of him, + Will set thee on her lap, and play with thee: + Then touch her white breast with this arrow-head, + That she may dote upon Æneas' love, + And by that means repair his broken ships, + Victual his soldiers, give him wealthy gifts, 330 + And he, at last, depart to Italy, + Or else in Carthage make his kingly throne. + + _Cup._ I will, fair mother; and so play my part + As every touch shall wound Queen Dido's heart. [_Exit._ + + _Ven._ Sleep, my sweet nephew,[480] in these cooling shades, + Free from the murmur of these running streams, + The cry of beasts, the rattling of the winds, + Or whisking of these leaves: all shall be still, + And nothing interrupt thy quiet sleep, + Till I return, and take thee hence again. 340 + [_Exit._ + + + + + ACT III. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_[481] CUPID _as_ ASCANIUS. + + _Cup._ Now, Cupid, cause the Carthaginian queen + To be enamour'd of thy brother's looks: + Convey this golden arrow in thy sleeve, + Lest she imagine thou art Venus' son; + And when she strokes thee softly on the head, + Then shall I touch her breast and conquer her. + + _Enter_ DIDO, ANNA, _and_ IARBAS. + + _Iar._ How long, fair Dido, shall I pine for thee? + 'Tis not enough that thou dost grant me love, + But that I may enjoy what I desire: + That love is childish which consists in words. 10 + + _Dido._ Iarbas, know, that thou, of all my wooers,-- + And yet have I had many mightier kings,-- + Hast had the greatest favours I could give. + I fear me, Dido hath been counted light + In being too familiar with Iarbas; + Albeit the gods do know, no wanton thought + Had ever residence in Dido's breast. + + _Iar._ But Dido is the favour I request. + + _Dido._ Fear not, Iarbas; Dido may be thine. + + _Anna._ Look, sister, how Æneas' little son 20 + Plays with your garments and embraceth you. + + _Cup._ No, Dido will not take me in her arms; + I shall not be her son, she loves me not. + + _Dido._ Weep not, sweet boy; thou shalt be Dido's son: + Sit in my lap, and let me hear thee sing. [CUPID _sings_. + No more, my child; now talk another while, + And tell me where learn'dst thou this pretty song. + + _Cup._ My cousin Helen taught it me in Troy. + + _Dido._ How lovely is Ascanius when he smiles! + + _Cup._ Will Dido let me hang about her neck? 30 + + _Dido._ I, wag; and give thee leave to kiss her too. + + _Cup._ What will you give me now? I'll have this fan. + + _Dido._ Take it, Ascanius, for thy father's sake. + + _Iar._ Come, Dido, leave Ascanius; let us walk. + + _Dido._ Go thou away; Ascanius shall stay. + + _Iar._ Ungentle queen, is this thy love to me? + + _Dido._ O, stay, Iarbas, and I'll go with thee! + + _Cup._ An if my mother go, I'll follow her. + + _Dido._ Why stay'st thou here? thou art no love of mine. + + _Iar._ Iarbas, die, seeing she abandons thee! 40 + + _Dido._ No; live, Iarbas: What hast thou deserved, + That I should say thou art no love of mine? + Something thou hast deserved.--Away, I say! + Depart from Carthage; come not in my sight. + + _Iar._ Am I not king of rich Gætulia? + + _Dido._ Iarbas, pardon me, and stay a while. + + _Cup._ Mother, look here. + + _Dido._ What tell'st thou me of rich Gætulia? + Am not I queen of Libya? then depart. + + _Iar._ I go to feed the humour of my love, 50 + Yet not from Carthage for a thousand worlds. + + _Dido._ Iarbas! + + _Iar._ Doth Dido call me back? + + _Dido._ No; but I charge thee never look on me. + + _Iar._ Then pull out both mine eyes, or let me die. [_Exit._ + + _Anna._ Wherefore doth Dido bid Iarbas go? + + _Dido._ Because his loathsome sight offends mine eye, + And in my thoughts is shrined another love. + O Anna, didst thou know how sweet love were, + Full soon wouldst thou abjure this single life! + + _Anna._ Poor soul, I know too well the sour of love: 60 + O, that Iarbas could but fancy me! [_Aside._ + + _Dido._ Is not Æneas fair and beautiful? + + _Anna._ Yes; and Iarbas foul and favourless. + + _Dido._ Is he not eloquent in all his speech? + + _Anna._ Yes; and Iarbas rude and rustical. + + _Dido._ Name not Iarbas: but, sweet Anna, say, + Is not Æneas worthy Dido's love? + + _Anna._ O sister, were you empress of the world, + Æneas well deserves to be your love! + So lovely is he, that, where'er he goes, 70 + The people swarm to gaze him in the face. + + _Dido._ But tell them, none shall gaze on him but I, + Lest their gross eye-beams taint my lover's cheeks. + Anna, good sister Anna, go for him, + Lest with these sweet thoughts I melt clean away. + + _Anna._ Then, sister, you'll abjure Iarbas' love? + + _Dido._ Yet must I hear that loathsome name again? + Run for Æneas, or I'll fly to him. [_Exit_ ANNA. + + _Cup._ You shall not hurt my father when he comes. + + _Dido._ No; for thy sake I'll love thy father well.-- 80 + O dull-conceited Dido, that till now + Didst never think Æneas beautiful! + But now, for quittance of this oversight, + I'll make me bracelets of his golden hair; + His glistering eyes shall be my looking-glass; + His lips an altar, where I'll offer up[482] + As many kisses as the sea hath sands; + Instead of music I will hear him speak; + His looks shall be my only library; + And thou, Æneas, Dido's treasury, 90 + In whose fair bosom I will lock more wealth + Than twenty thousand Indias can afford. + O, here he comes! Love, love, give Dido leave + To be more modest than her thoughts admit, + Lest I be made a wonder to the world. + + _Enter_ ÆNEAS, ACHATES, SERGESTUS, ILIONEUS, _and_ CLOANTHUS. + + Achates, how doth Carthage please your lord? + + _Ach._ That will Æneas show your majesty. + + _Dido._ Æneas, art thou there? + + _Æn._ I understand your highness sent for me. + + _Dido._ No; but, now thou art here, tell me, in sooth, 100 + In what might Dido highly pleasure thee. + + _Æn._ So much have I receiv'd at Dido's hands, + As, without blushing, I can ask no more: + Yet, queen of Afric, are my ships unrigg'd, + My sails all rent in sunder with the wind, + My oars broken, and my tackling lost, + Yea, all my navy split with rocks and shelves; + Nor stern nor anchor have our maimèd fleet; + Our masts the furious winds struck overboard: + Which piteous wants if Dido will supply, 110 + We will account her author of our lives. + + _Dido._ Æneas, I'll repair thy Trojan ships, + Conditionally that thou wilt stay with me, + And let Achates sail to Italy: + I'll give thee tackling made of rivelled[483] gold, + Wound on the barks of odoriferous trees;[484] + Oars of massy ivory, full of holes, + Through which the water shall delight to play; + Thy anchors shall be hewed from crystal rocks, + Which, if thou lose, shall shine above the waves; 120 + The masts, whereon thy swelling sails shall hang, + Hollow pyramides of silver plate; + The sails of folded lawn, where shall be wrought + The wars of Troy,--but not Troy's overthrow; + For ballace,[485] empty Dido's treasury: + Take what ye will, but leave Æneas here. + Achates, thou shalt be so seemly[486] clad, + As sea-born nymphs shall swarm about thy ships, + And wanton mermaids court thee with sweet songs, + Flinging in favours of more sovereign worth 130 + Than Thetis hangs about Apollo's neck, + So that Æneas may but stay with me. + + _Æn._ Wherefore would Dido have Æneas stay? + + _Dido._ To war against my bordering enemies. + Æneas, think not Dido is in love; + For, if that any man could conquer me, + I had been wedded ere Æneas came: + See, where the pictures of my suitors hang; + And are not these as fair as fair may be? + + _Ach._ I saw this man at Troy, ere Troy was sack'd. 140 + + _Æn._[487] I this in Greece, when Paris stole fair Helen. + + _Ili._ This man and I were at Olympia's[488] games, + + _Serg._ I know this face; he is a Persian born: + I travell'd with him to Ætolia. + + _Cloan._ And I in Athens with this gentleman, + Unless I be deceived, disputed once. + + _Dido._ But speak, Æneas; know you none of these? + + _Æn._ No, madam; but it seems that these are kings. + + _Dido._ All these, and others which I never saw, + Have been most urgent suitors for my love; 150 + Some came in person, others sent their legates, + Yet none obtained me: I am free from all; + And yet, God knows, entangled unto one. + This was an orator, and thought by words + To compass me: but yet he was deceiv'd: + And this a Spartan courtier, vain and wild; + But his fantastic humours pleased not me: + This was Alcion, a musician; + But, play'd he ne'er so sweet, I let him go: + This was the wealthy king of Thessaly; 160 + But I had gold enough, and cast him off: + This, Meleager's son, a warlike prince; + But weapons gree not with my tender years: + The rest are such as all the world well knows: + Yet now[489] I swear, by heaven and him I love, + I was as far from love as they from hate. + + _Æn._ O, happy shall he be whom Dido loves! + + _Dido._ Then never say that thou art miserable, + Because, it may be, thou shalt be my love, + Yet boast not of it, for I love thee not,-- 170 + And yet I hate thee not.--O, if I speak, + I shall betray myself! [_Aside._]--Æneas, come:[490] + We too will go a-hunting in the woods; + But not so much for thee,--thou art but one,-- + As for Achates and his followers. [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_[491] JUNO _to_ ASCANIUS, _who lies asleep_. + + _Juno._ Here lies my hate, Æneas' cursèd brat, + The boy wherein false Destiny delights, + The heir of Fury,[492] the favourite of the Fates,[493] + That ugly imp that shall outwear my wrath, + And wrong my deity with high disgrace. + But I will take another order now, + And raze th' eternal register of Time: + Troy shall no more call him her second hope, + Nor Venus triumph in his tender youth; + For here, in spite of Heaven, I'll murder him, 10 + And feed infection with his let-out[494] life. + Say, Paris, now shall Venus have the ball? + Say, vengeance, now shall her Ascanius die? + O no! God wot, I cannot watch my time, + Nor quit good turns with double fee down told: + Tut, I am simple, without mind[495] to hurt, + And have no gall at all to grieve my foes! + But lustful Jove and his adulterous child + Shall find it written on confusion's front, + That only Juno rules in Rhamnus town.[496] 20 + + _Enter_ VENUS. + + _Ven._ What should this mean? my doves are back return'd + Who warn me of such danger prest[497] at hand + To harm my sweet Ascanius' lovely life.-- + Juno, my mortal foe, what make you here? + Avaunt, old witch! and trouble not my wits. + + _Juno._ Fie, Venus, that such causeless words of wrath + Should e'er defile so fair a mouth as thine! + Are not we both sprung of celestial race, + And banquet, as two sisters, with the gods? + Why is it, then, displeasure should disjoin 30 + Whom kindred and acquaintance co-unites? + + _Ven._ Out, hateful hag! thou wouldst have slain my son, + Had not my doves discovered thy intent: + But I will tear thy eyes fro forth thy head, + And feast the birds with their blood-shotten balls, + If thou but lay thy fingers on my boy. + + _Juno._ Is this, then, all the thanks that I shall have + For saving him from snakes' and serpents' stings, + That would have killed him, sleeping, as he lay? + What, though I was offended with thy son, 40 + And wrought him mickle woe on sea and land, + When, for the hate of Trojan Ganymede,[498] + That was advancèd by my Hebe's shame, + And Paris' judgment of the heavenly ball, + I mustered all the winds unto his wreck, + And urg'd each element to his annoy? + Yet now I do repent me of his ruth, + And wish that I had never wrong'd him so. + Bootless, I saw, it was to war with fate + That hath so many unresisted[499] friends: 50 + Wherefore I changed[500] my counsel with the time, + And planted love where envy erst had sprung. + + _Ven._ Sister of Jove, if that thy love be such + As these thy protestations do paint forth, + We two, as friends, one fortune will divide: + Cupid shall lay his arrows in thy lap, + And to a sceptre change his golden shafts; + Fancy[501] and modesty shall live as mates, + And thy fair peacocks by my pigeons perch: + Love, my Æneas, and desire is thine; 60 + The day, the night, my swans, my sweets, are thine. + + _Juno._ More than melodious are these words to me, + That overcloy my soul with their content. + Venus, sweet Venus, how may I deserve + Such amorous favours at thy beauteous hand? + But, that thou mayst more easily perceive + How highly I do prize this amity, + Hark to a motion of eternal league, + Which I will make in quittance of thy love. + Thy son, thou know'st, with Dido now remains, 70 + And feeds his eyes with favours of her court; + She, likewise, in admiring spends her time, + And cannot talk nor think of aught but him: + Why should not they, then, join in marriage, + And bring forth mighty kings to Carthage-town, + Whom casualty of sea hath made such friends? + And, Venus, let there be a match confirm'd + Betwixt these two, whose loves are so alike; + And both our deities, conjoin'd in one, + Shall chain felicity unto their throne. 80 + + _Ven._ Well could I like this reconcilement's means; + But much I fear my son will ne'er consent, + Whose armèd soul, already on the sea, + Darts forth her light [un]to Lavinia's shore. + + _Juno._ Fair queen of love, I will divorce these doubts, + And find my way to weary such fond thoughts. + This day they both a-hunting forth will ride + Into the[502] woods adjoining to these walls; + When, in the midst of all their gamesome sports, + I'll make the clouds dissolve their watery works, 90 + And drench Silvanus' dwellings with their showers; + Then in one cave the queen and he shall meet, + And interchangeably discourse their thoughts, + Whose short conclusion will seal up their hearts + Unto the purpose which we now propound. + + _Ven._ Sister, I see you savour of my wiles: + Be it as you will have [it] for this once. + Meantime Ascanius shall be my charge; + Whom I will bear to Ida in mine arms, + And couch him in Adonis' purple down. 100 + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE III. + + _Enter_[503] DIDO, ÆNEAS, ANNA, IARBAS, ACHATES, CUPID + _as_ ASCANIUS, _and_ Followers. + + _Dido._ Æneas, think not but I honour thee, + That thus in person go with thee to hunt: + My princely robes, thou see'st, are laid aside, + Whose glittering pomp Diana's shroud[504] supplies; + All fellows now, disposed alike to sport; + The woods are wide, and we have store of game. + Fair Trojan, hold my golden bow a while, + Until I gird my quiver to my side.-- + Lords, go before; we two must talk alone. + + _Iar._ Ungentle, can she wrong Iarbas so? 10 + + I'll die before a stranger have that grace. + "We two will talk alone"--what words be these! [_Aside._ + + _Dido._ What makes Iarbas here of all the rest? + We could have gone without your company. + + _Æn._ But love and duty led him on perhaps + To press beyond acceptance to your sight. + + _Iar._ Why! man of Troy, do I offend thine eyes? + Or art thou grieved thy betters press so nigh? + + _Dido._ How now, Gætulian! are you grown so brave, + To challenge us with your comparisons? 20 + Peasant, go seek companions like thyself, + And meddle not with any that I love.-- + Æneas, be not moved at what he says; + For otherwhile he will be out of joint. + + _Iar._ Women may wrong by privilege of love; + But, should that man of men, Dido except, + Have taunted me in these opprobrious terms, + I would have either drunk his dying blood, + Or else I would have given my life in gage. 29 + + _Dido._ Huntsmen, why pitch you not your toils apace, + And rouse the light-foot deer from forth their lair? + + _Anna._ Sister, see, see Ascanius in his pomp, + Bearing his hunt-spear bravely in his hand! + + _Dido._ Yea, little son, are you so forward now? + + _Cup._ I, mother; I shall one day be a man, + And better able unto other arms; + Meantime these wanton weapons serve my war, + Which I will break betwixt a lion's jaws. + + _Dido._ What? dar'st thou look a lion in the face? + + _Cup._ I; and outface him too, do what he can. 40 + + _Anna._ How like his father speaketh he in all! + + _Æn._ And mought I live to see him sack rich Thebes, + And load his spear with Grecian princes' heads, + Then would I wish me with Anchises' tomb, + And dead to honour that hath brought me up. + + _Iar._ And might I live to see thee shipp'd away, + And hoist aloft on Neptune's hideous hills, + Then would I wish me in fair Dido's arms, + And dead to scorn that hath pursu'd me so. [_Aside._ + + _Æn._ Stout friend Achates, dost thou know this wood? 50 + + _Ach._ As I remember, here you shot the deer + That saved your famish'd soldiers' lives from death, + When first you set your foot upon the shore; + And here we met fair Venus, virgin-like, + Bearing her bow and quiver at her back. + + _Æn._ O, how these irksome labours now delight, + And overjoy my thoughts with their escape! + Who would not undergo all kind of toil, + To be well stor'd with such a winter's tale? + + _Dido._ Æneas, leave these dumps, and let's away. 60 + Some to the mountains, some unto the soil,[505] + You to the valleys,--thou unto the house. + [_Exeunt all except_ IARBAS. + + _Iar._ I, this it is which wounds me to the death, + To see a Phrygian, far-fet[506] o'er the sea, + Preferr'd before a man of majesty. + O love! O hate! O cruel women's hearts, + That imitate the moon in every change, + And, like the planets, ever love to range! + What shall I do, thus wrongèd with disdain? + Revenge me on Æneas or on her? 70 + On her! fond man, that were to war 'gainst heaven, + And with one shaft provoke ten thousand darts. + This Trojan's end will be thy envy's aim, + Whose blood will reconcile thee to content, + And make love drunken with thy sweet desire. + But Dido, that now holdeth him so dear, + Will die with very tidings of his death: + But time will discontinue her content, + And mould her mind unto new fancy's shapes, + O God of heaven, turn the hand of Fate 80 + Unto that happy day of my delight! + And then--what then? Iarbas shall but love: + So doth he now, though not with equal gain; + That resteth in the rival of thy pain, + Who ne'er will cease to soar till he be slain. + [_Exit._ + + + SCENE IV. + + _The storm. Enter_ ÆNEAS _and_ DIDO + _in the cave, at several times_. + + _Dido._ Æneas! + + _Æn._ Dido! + + _Dido._ Tell me, dear love, how found you out this cave? + + _Æn._ By chance, sweet queen, as Mars and Venus met. + + _Dido._ Why, that was in a net, where we are loose; + And yet I am not free,--O, would I were! + + _Æn._ Why, what is it that Dido may desire + And not obtain, be it in human power? + + _Dido._ The thing that I will die before I ask, + And yet desire to have before I die. 10 + + _Æn_. It is not aught Æneas may achieve? + + _Dido._ Æneas! no; although his eyes do pierce. + + _Æn._ What, hath Iarbas anger'd her in aught? + And will she be avengèd on his life? + + _Dido._ Not anger'd me, except in angering thee. + + _Æn._ Who, then, of all so cruel may he be + That should detain thy eye in his defects? + + _Dido._ The man that I do eye where'er I am; + Whose amorous face, like Pæan, sparkles fire, + Whenas he butts his beams on Flora's bed. 20 + Prometheus hath put on Cupid's shape, + And I must perish in his burning arms: + Æneas, O Æneas, quench these flames! + + _Æn._ What ails my queen? is she faln sick of late? + + _Dido._ Not sick, my love; but sick I must conceal + The torment that it boots me not reveal: + And yet I'll speak,--and yet I'll hold my peace. + Do shame her worst, I will disclose my grief: + Æneas, thou art he--what did I say? + Something it was that now I have forgot. 30 + + _Æn._ What means fair Dido by this doubtful speech? + + _Dido._ Nay, nothing; but Æneas loves me not. + + _Æn._ Æneas' thoughts dare not ascend so high + As Dido's heart, which monarchs might not scale. + + _Dido._ It was because I saw no king like thee, + Whose golden crown might balance my content; + But now that I have found what to affect, + I follow one that loveth fame 'fore[507] me, + And rather had seem fair [in] Sirens' eyes, + Than to the Carthage queen that dies for him. 40 + + _Æn._ If that your majesty can look so low + As my despisèd worths that shun all praise, + With this my hand I give to you my heart, + And vow, by all the gods of hospitality, + By heaven and earth, and my fair brother's bow, + By Paphos, Capys,[508] and the purple sea + From whence my radiant mother did ascend,[509] + And by this sword that sav'd me from the Greeks, + Never to leave these new-uprearèd walls, + Whiles Dido lives and rules in Juno's town,-- 50 + Never to like or love any but her! + + _Dido._ What more than Delian music do I hear, + That calls my soul from forth his living seat + To move unto the measures of delight? + Kind clouds, that sent forth such a courteous storm + As made disdain to fly to fancy's lap! + Stout love, in mine arms make thy Italy, + Whose crown and kingdom rests at thy command: + Sichæus, not Æneas, be thou call'd; + The king of Carthage, not Anchises' son. 60 + Hold, take these jewels at thy lover's hand, [_Giving jewels, &c._ + These golden bracelets, and this wedding-ring, + Wherewith my husband woo'd me yet a maid, + And be thou king of Libya by my gift. + [_Exeunt to the cave._ + + + + + ACT IV. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_[510] ACHATES, CUPID _as_ ASCANIUS, IARBAS, + _and_ ANNA. + + _Ach._ Did ever men see such a sudden storm + Or day so clear so suddenly o'ercast? + + _Iar._ I think some fell enchantress dwelleth here, + That can call them[511] forth whenas she please, + And dive into black tempest's treasury, + Whenas she means to mask the world with clouds. + + _Anna._ In all my life I never knew the like; + It hailed, it snowed, it lightened all at once. + + _Ach._ I think, it was the devil's revelling night, + There was such hurly-burly in the heavens: 10 + Doubtless Apollo's axle-tree is crack'd, + Or agèd Atlas' shoulder out of joint, + The motion was so over-violent. + + _Iar._ In all this coil, where have ye left the queen? + + _Asc._ Nay, where's my warlike father, can you tell? + + _Anna._ Behold, where both of them come forth the cave. + + _Iar._ Come forth the cave! can heaven endure this sight? + Iarbas, curse that unrevenging Jove, + Whose flinty darts slept in Typhoeus'[512] den, + Whiles these adulterers surfeited with sin. 20 + Nature, why mad'st me not some poisonous beast, + That with the sharpness of my edgèd sting + I might have staked them both unto the earth, + Whilst they were sporting in this darksome cave! [_Aside._ + + _Enter, from the cave_, ÆNEAS _and_ DIDO. + + _Æn._ The air is clear, and southern winds are whist.[513] + Come, Dido, let us hasten to the town, + Since gloomy Æolus doth cease to frown. + + _Dido._ Achates and Ascanius, well met. + + _Æn._ Fair Anna, how escap'd you from the shower? + + _Anna._ As others did, by running to the wood. 30 + + _Dido._ But where were you, Iarbas, all this while? + + _Iar._ Not with Æneas in the ugly cave. + + _Dido._ I see, Æneas sticketh in your mind; + But I will soon put by that stumbling-block, + And quell those hopes that thus employ your cares.[514] + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE II. + + _Enter_[515] IARBAS _to sacrifice_. + + _Iar._ Come, servants, come; bring forth the sacrifice, + That I may pacify that gloomy Jove, + Whose empty altars have enlarg'd our ills.-- + [Servants _bring in the sacrifice, and then exeunt_. + Eternal Jove, great master of the clouds, + Father of gladness and all frolic thoughts, + That with thy gloomy[516] hand corrects the heaven, + When airy creatures war amongst themselves; + Hear, hear, O, hear Iarbas' plaining prayers, + Whose hideous echoes make the welkin howl, + And all the woods Eliza[517] to resound! 10 + The woman that thou willed us entertain, + Where, straying in our borders up and down, + She crav'd a hide of ground to build a town, + With whom we did divide both laws and land, + And all the fruits that plenty else sends forth, + Scorning our loves and royal marriage-rites, + Yields up her beauty to a stranger's bed; + Who, having wrought her shame, is straightway fled: + Now, if thou be'st a pitying god of power, + On whom ruth and compassion ever waits, 20 + Redress these wrongs, and warn him to his ships, + That now afflicts me with his flattering eyes. + + _Enter_ ANNA. + + _Anna._ How now, Iarbas! at your prayers so hard? + + _Iar._ I, Anna: is there aught you would with me? + + _Anna._ Nay, no such weighty business of import + But may be slacked until another time: + Yet, if you would partake with me the cause + Of this devotion that detaineth you, + I would be thankful for such courtesy. + + _Iar._ Anna, against this Trojan do I pray, 30 + Who seeks to rob me of thy sister's love, + And dive into her heart by colour'd looks. + + _Anna._ Alas, poor king, that labours so in vain + For her that so delighteth in thy pain! + Be rul'd by me, and seek some other love, + Whose yielding heart may yield thee more relief. + + _Iar._ Mine eye is fixed where fancy cannot start: + O, leave me, leave me to my silent thoughts, + That register the numbers of my ruth, + And I will either move the thoughtless flint, 40 + Or drop out both mine eyes in drizzling tears, + Before my sorrow's tide have any stint! + + _Anna._ I will not leave Iarbas, whom I love, + In this delight of dying pensiveness. + Away with Dido! Anna be thy song; + Anna, that doth admire thee more than heaven. + + _Iar._ I may nor will list to such loathsome change. + That intercepts the course of my desire-- + Servants, come fetch these empty vessels here; + For I will fly from these alluring eyes, 50 + That do pursue my peace where'er it goes. + [_Exit._--Servants _re-enter, and carry out the vessels, &c._ + + _Anna._ Iarbas, stay, loving Iarbas, stay! + For I have honey to present thee with. + Hard-hearted, wilt not deign to hear me speak? + I'll follow thee with outcries ne'ertheless, + And strew thy walks with my dishevell'd hair. + [_Exit._ + + + SCENE III. + + _Enter_ ÆNEAS.[518] + + _Æn._ Carthage, my friendly host, adieu! + Since Destiny doth call me from thy[519] shore: + Hermes this night, descending in a dream, + Hath summoned me to fruitful Italy; + Jove wills it so; my mother wills it so: + Let my Phoenissa grant, and then I go. + Grant she or no, Æneas must away; + Whose golden fortunes, clogg'd with courtly ease, + Cannot ascend to fame's immortal house, + Or banquet in bright Honour's burnished hall, 10 + Till he hath furrowed Neptune's glassy fields, + And cut a passage through his topless[520] hills.-- + Achates, come forth! Sergestus, Ilioneus, + Cloanthus, haste away! Æneas calls. + + _Enter_ ACHATES, CLOANTHUS, SERGESTUS, _and_ ILIONEUS. + + _Ach._ What wills our lord, or wherefore did he call? + + _Æn._ The dreams, brave mates, that did beset my bed, + When sleep but newly had embrac'd the night, + Commands me leave these unrenowmèd realms,[521] + Whereas nobility abhors to stay, + And none but base Æneas will abide. 20 + Aboard, aboard! since Fates do bid aboard, + And slice the sea with sable-colour'd ships, + On whom the nimble winds may all day wait, + And follow them, as footmen, through the deep. + Yet Dido casts her eyes, like anchors, out, + To stay my fleet from loosing forth the bay: + "Come back, come back," I hear her cry a-far, + "And let me link thy[522] body to my lips, + That, tied together by the striving tongues, + We may, as one, sail into Italy." 30 + + _Ach._ Banish that ticing dame from forth your mouth, + And follow your fore-seeing stars in all: + This is no life for men-at-arms to live, + Where dalliance doth consume a soldier's strength, + And wanton motions of alluring eyes + Effeminate our minds, inur'd to war. + + _Ili._ Why, let us build a city of our own, + And not stand lingering here for amorous looks. + + Will Dido raise old Priam forth his grave, + And build the town again the Greeks did burn? 40 + No, no; she cares not how we sink or swim, + So she may have Æneas in her arms. + + _Clo._ To Italy, sweet friends, to Italy! + We will not stay a minute longer here. + + _Æn._ Trojans, aboard, and I will follow you. + [_Exeunt all except_ ÆNEAS. + I fain would go, yet beauty calls me back: + To leave her so, and not once say farewell, + Were to transgress against all laws of love. + But, if I use such ceremonious thanks + As parting friends accustom on the shore, 50 + Her silver arms will coll[523] me round about, + And tears of pearl cry, "Stay, Æneas, stay!" + Each word she says will then contain a crown, + And every speech be ended with a kiss: + I may not dure this female drudgery: + To sea, Æneas! find out Italy! + [_Exit._ + + + SCENE IV. + + _Enter_[524] DIDO _and_ ANNA. + + _Dido._ O Anna, run unto the water-side! + They say Æneas' men are going aboard; + It may be, he will steal away with them: + Stay not to answer me; run, Anna, run! [_Exit_ ANNA. + O foolish Trojans, that would steal from hence, + And not let Dido understand their drift! + I would have given Achates store of gold, + And Ilioneus gum and Libyan spice; + The common soldiers rich embroider'd coats, + And silver whistles to control the winds, 10 + Which Circe[525] sent Sichæus when he lived: + Unworthy are they of a queen's reward. + See where they come: how might I do to chide? + + _Re-enter_ ANNA, _with_ ÆNEAS, ACHATES, + CLOANTHUS, ILIONEUS, SERGESTUS, + _and_ Carthaginian Lords. + + _Anna._ 'Twas time to run; Æneas had been gone; + The sails were hoising up, and he aboard. + + _Dido._ Is this thy love to me? + + _Æn._ O princely Dido, give me leave to speak! + I went to take my farewell of Achates. + + _Dido._ How haps Achates bid me not farewell? + + _Ach._ Because I feared your grace would keep me here. 20 + + _Dido._ To rid thee of that doubt, aboard again: + I charge thee put to sea, and stay not here. + + _Ach._ Then let Æneas go aboard with us. + + _Dido._ Get you aboard; Æneas means to stay. + + _Æn._ The sea is rough, the winds blow to the shore. + + _Dido._ O false Æneas! now the sea is rough; + But, when you were aboard, 'twas calm enough: + Thou and Achates meant to sail away. + + _Æn._ Hath not the Carthage queen mine only son? + Thinks Dido I will go and leave him here? 30 + + _Dido._ Æneas, pardon me; for I forgot + That young Ascanius lay with me this night; + Love made me jealous: but, to make amends, + Wear the imperial crown of Libya, + [_Giving him her crown and sceptre._ + Sway thou the Punic sceptre in my stead, + And punish me, Æneas, for this crime. + + _Æn._ This kiss shall be fair Dido's punishment. + + _Dido._ O, how a crown becomes Æneas' head! + Stay here, Æneas, and command as king. + + _Æn._ How vain am I to wear this diadem, 40 + And bear this golden sceptre in my hand! + A burgonet of steel, and not a crown, + A sword, and not a sceptre, fits Æneas. + + _Dido._ O, keep them still, and let me gaze my fill! + Now looks Æneas like immortal Jove: + O, where is Ganymede, to hold his cup, + And Mercury, to fly for what he calls? + Ten thousand Cupids hover in the air, + And fan it in Æneas' lovely face! + O, that the clouds were here wherein thou fled'st,[526] 50 + That thou and I unseen might sport ourselves! + Heaven,[527] envious of our joys, is waxen pale; + And when we whisper, then the stars fall down, + To be partakers of our honey talk. + + _Æn._ O Dido, patroness of all our lives, + When I leave thee, death be my punishment! + Swell, raging seas! frown, wayward Destinies! + Blow, winds! threaten, ye rocks and sandy shelves! + This is the harbour that Æneas seeks: + Let's see what tempests can annoy me now. 60 + + _Dido._ Not all the world can take thee from mine arms. + Æneas may command as many Moors + As in the sea are little water-drops: + And now, to make experience of my love,-- + Fair sister Anna, lead my lover forth, + And, seated on my jennet, let him ride, + As Dido's husband, through the Punic streets; + And will[528] my guard, with Mauritanian darts + To wait upon him as their sovereign lord. + + _Anna._ What if the citizens repine thereat? 70 + + _Dido._ Those that dislike what Dido gives in charge, + Command my guard to slay for their offence. + Shall vulgar peasants storm at what I do? + The ground is mine that gives them sustenance, + The air wherein they breathe, the water, fire, + All that they have, their lands, their goods, their lives! + And I, the goddess of all these, command + Æneas ride as Carthaginian king. + + _Ach._ Æneas, for his parentage, deserves + As large a kingdom as is Libya. 80 + + _Æn._ I, and, unless the Destinies be false, + I shall be planted in as rich a land. + + _Dido._ Speak of no other land; this land is thine; + Dido is thine, henceforth I'll thee lord.-- + Do as I bid thee, sister; lead the way; + And from a turret I'll behold my love. + + _Æn._ Then here in me shall flourish Priam's race; + And thou and I, Achates, for revenge + For Troy, for Priam, for his fifty sons, + Our kinsmen's lives[529] and thousand guiltless souls, 90 + Will lead an host against the hateful Greeks, + And fire proud Lacedæmon o'er their heads. + [_Exeunt all except_ DIDO _and_ Carthaginian Lords. + + _Dido._ Speaks not Æneas like a conqueror? + O blessèd tempests that did drive him in! + O happy sand that made him run aground! + Henceforth you shall be [of] our Carthage gods. + I, but it may be, he will leave my love, + And seek a foreign land called Italy: + O, that I had a charm to keep the winds + Within the closure of a golden ball; 100 + Or that the Tyrrhene sea were in mine arms, + That he might suffer shipwreck on my breast, + As oft as he attempts to hoist up sail! + I must prevent him; wishing will not serve.-- + Go bid my nurse take young Ascanius, + And bear him in the country to her house; + Æneas will not go without his son; + Yet, lest he should, for I am full of fear, + Bring me his oars, his tackling, and his sails. [_Exit_ First Lord. + What if I sink his ships? O, he will frown! 110 + Better he frown than I should die for grief. + I cannot see him frown; it may not be: + Armies of foes resolv'd to win this town, + Or impious traitors vow'd to have my life, + Affright me not; only Æneas' frown + Is that which terrifies poor Dido's heart; + Not bloody spears, appearing in the air, + Presage the downfall of my empery, + Nor blazing comets threaten Dido's death; + It is Æneas' frown that ends my days. 120 + If he forsake me not, I never die; + For in his looks I see eternity, + And he'll make me immortal[530] with a kiss. + + _Re-enter_ First Lord, _with_ Attendants + _carrying tackling_, &c. + + _First Lord._ Your nurse is gone with young Ascanius: + And here's Æneas' tackling, oars, and sails. + + _Dido._ Are these the sails that, in despite of me, + Pack'd[531] with the winds to bear Æneas hence? + I'll hang ye in the chamber where I lie; + Drive, if you can, my house to Italy: + I'll set the casement open, that the winds 130 + May enter in, and once again conspire + Against the life of me, poor Carthage queen: + But, though ye[532] go, he stays in Carthage still; + And let rich Carthage fleet[533] upon the seas, + So I may have Æneas in mine arms. + Is this the wood that grew in Carthage plains, + And would be toiling in the watery billows, + To rob their mistress of her Trojan guest? + O cursèd tree, hadst thou but wit or sense, + To measure how I prize Æneas' love, 140 + Thou wouldst have leapt from out the sailors' hands, + And told me that Æneas meant to go! + And yet I blame thee not; thou art but wood. + The water, which our poets term a nymph,[534] + Why did it suffer thee to touch her breast, + And shrunk not back, knowing my love was there? + The water is an element, no nymph. + Why should I blame Æneas for his flight? + O Dido, blame not him, but break his oars! + These were the instruments that launched him forth. 150 + There's not so much as this base tackling too, + But dares to heap up sorrow to my heart: + Was it not you that hoisèd up these sails? + Why burst you not, and they fell in the seas? + For this will Dido tie ye full of knots, + And shear ye all asunder with her hands: + Now serve to chastise shipboys for their faults; + Ye shall no more offend the Carthage queen. + Now, let him hang my favours on his masts, + And see if those will serve instead of sails; 160 + For tackling, let him take the chains of gold, + Which I bestow'd upon his followers; + Instead of oars, let him use his hands, + And swim to Italy. I'll keep these sure.-- + Come, bear them in. + [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE V. + + _Enter_[535] Nurse, _with_ CUPID _as_ ASCANIUS. + + _Nurse._ My Lord Ascanius, you must go with me. + + _Cup._ Whither must I go? I'll stay with my mother. + + _Nurse._ No, thou shall go with me unto my house. + I have an orchard that hath store of plums, + Brown almonds, services, ripe figs, and dates, + Dewberries, apples, yellow oranges; + A garden where are bee-hives full of honey, + Musk-roses, and a thousand sort of flowers; + And in the midst doth run a silver stream, + Where thou shalt see the red-gill'd fishes leap, 10 + White swans, and many lovely water-fowls. + Now speak, Ascanius, will you go or no? + + _Cup._ Come, come, I'll go. How far hence is your house? + + _Nurse._ But hereby, child; we shall get thither straight. + + _Cup._ Nurse, I am weary; will you carry me? + + _Nurse._ I, so you'll dwell with me, and call me mother. + + _Cup._ So you'll love me, I care not if I do. + + _Nurse._ That I might live to see this boy a man! + How prettily he laughs! Go, ye wag!_[536]_ + You'll be a twigger[537] when you come to age.-- 20 + Say Dido what she will, I am not old; + I'll be no more a widow; I am young; + I'll have a husband, or else a lover. + + _Cup._ A husband, and no teeth! + + _Nurse._ O, what mean I to have such foolish thoughts? + Foolish is love, a toy.--O sacred love! + If there be any heaven in earth, 'tis love, + Especially in women of your years.-- + Blush, blush for shame! why shouldst thou think of love? + A grave, and not a lover, fits thy age.-- 30 + A grave! why, I may live a hundred years; + Fourscore is but a girl's age: love is sweet.-- + My veins are withered, and my sinews dry: + Why do I think of love, now I should die? + + _Cup._ Come, nurse. + + _Nurse._ Well, if he come a-wooing, he shall speed: + O, how unwise was I to say him nay! + [_Exeunt._ + + + + + ACT V. + + + SCENE I. + + _Enter_ ÆNEAS,[538] _with a paper in his hand, + drawing the platform[539] of the city_; ACHATES, + SERGESTUS, CLOANTHUS, _and_ ILIONEUS. + + _Æn._ Triumph, my mates! our travels are at end: + Here will Æneas build a statelier Troy + Than that which grim Atrides overthrew. + Carthage shall vaunt her petty walls no more; + For I will grace them with a fairer frame, + And clad her in a crystal livery, + Wherein the day may evermore delight; + From golden India Ganges will I fetch, + Whose wealthy streams may wait upon her towers, + And triple-wise entrench her round about; 10 + The sun from Egypt shall rich odours bring, + Wherewith his burning beams (like labouring bees + That load their thighs with Hybla's honey-spoils)[540] + Shall here unburden their exhalèd sweets, + And plant our pleasant suburbs with their[541] fumes. + + _Ach._ What length or breadth shall this brave town contain? + + _Æn._ Not past four thousand paces at the most. + + _Ili._ But what shall it be call'd? Troy, as before? + + _Æn._ That have I not determin'd with myself. + + _Clo._ Let it be term'd Ænea, by your name. 20 + + _Serg._ Rather Ascania, by your little son. + + _Æn._ Nay, I will have it callèd Anchisæon, + Of my old father's name. + + _Enter_ HERMES _with_ ASCANIUS. + + _Her._ Æneas, stay; Jove's herald bids thee stay. + + _Æn._ Whom do I see? Jove's wingèd messenger! + Welcome to Carthage new-erected town. + + _Her._ Why, cousin, stand you building cities here, + And beautifying the empire of this queen, + While Italy is clean out of thy mind? + Too-too forgetful of thine own affairs, 30 + Why wilt thou so betray thy son's good hap? + The king of gods sent me from highest heaven, + To sound this angry message in thine ears: + Vain man, what monarchy expect'st thou here? + Or with what thought sleep'st thou in Libya shore? + If that all glory hath forsaken thee, + And thou despise the praise of such attempts, + Yet think upon Ascanius' prophecy, + And young Iulus' more than thousand years, + Whom I have brought from Ida, where he slept, 40 + And bore young Cupid unto Cyprus' isle. + + _Æn._ This was my mother that beguil'd the queen. + And made me take my brother for my son: + No marvel, Dido, though thou be in love, + That daily dandlest Cupid in thy arms.-- + Welcome, sweet child: where hast thou been this long? + + _Asc._ Eating sweet comfits with Queen Dido's maid, + Who ever since hath lull'd me in her arms. + + _Æn._ Sergestus, bear him hence unto our ships, + Lest Dido, spying him, keep him for a pledge. 50 + [_Exit_ SERGESTUS _with_ ASCANIUS. + _Her._ Spend'st thou thy time about this little boy, + And giv'st not ear unto the charge I bring? + I tell thee, thou must straight to Italy, + Or else abide the wrath of frowning Jove. [_Exit._ + + _Æn._ How should I put into the raging deep. + Who have no sails nor tackling for my ships? + What? would the gods have me, Deucalion-like, + Float up and down where'er the billows drive? + Though she repair'd my fleet and gave me ships, + Yet hath she ta'en away my oars and masts, 60 + And left me neither sail nor stern[542] aboard. + + _Enter_ IARBAS. + + _Iar._ How now, Æneas! sad! what means these dumps? + + _Æn._ Iarbas, I am clean besides myself; + Jove hath heaped on me such a desperate charge, + Which neither art nor reason may achieve, + Nor I devise by what means to contrive. + + _Iar._ As how, I pray? may I entreat you tell? + + _Æn._ With speed he bids me sail to Italy, + Whenas I want both rigging for my fleet, + And also furniture for these my men. 70 + + _Iar._ If that be all, then cheer thy drooping looks, + For I will furnish thee with such supplies, + Let some of those thy followers go with me, + And they shall have what thing soe'er thou need'st. + + _Æn._ Thanks, good Iarbas, for thy friendly aid: + Achates and the rest shall wait on thee, + Whilst I rest thankful for this courtesy. + [_Exeunt all except_ ÆNEAS. + Now will I haste unto Lavinian shore, + And raise a new foundation to old Troy. + Witness the gods, and witness heaven and earth, 80 + How loath I am to leave these Libyan bounds, + But that eternal Jupiter commands! + + _Enter_ DIDO. + + _Dido._ I fear I saw Æneas' little son + Led by Achates[543] to the Trojan fleet. + If it be so, his father means to fly:-- + But here he is; now, Dido, try thy wit.-- [_Aside._ + Æneas, wherefore go thy men abroad? + Why are thy ships new-rigged? or to what end, + Launched from the haven, lie they in the road? + Pardon me, though I ask; love makes me ask. 90 + + _Æn._ O, pardon me, if I resolve thee why! + Æneas will not feign with his dear love. + I must from hence: this day, swift Mercury, + When I was laying a platform[544] for these walls, + Sent from his father Jove, appear'd to me, + And in his name rebuk'd me bitterly + For lingering here, neglecting Italy. + + _Dido._ But yet Æneas will not leave his love. + + _Æn._ I am commanded by immortal Jove + To leave this town and pass to Italy; 100 + And therefore must of force. + + _Dido._ These words proceed not from Æneas' heart. + + _Æn._ Not from my heart, for I can hardly go; + And yet I may not stay. Dido, farewell. + + _Dido._ Farewell! is this the 'mends for Dido's love? + Do Trojans use to quit[545] their lovers thus? + Fare well may Dido, so Æneas stay; + I die, if my Æneas say farewell. + + _Æn._ Then let me go, and never say farewell: + Let me go; farewell:[546] I must from hence. 110 + + _Dido._ These words are poison to poor Dido's soul: + O, speak like my Æneas, like my love! + + Why look'st thou toward the sea? the time hath been + When Dido's beauty chain'd[547] thine eyes to her. + Am I less fair than when thou saw'st me first? + O, then, Æneas, 'tis for grief of thee! + Say thou wilt stay in Carthage with thy[548] queen, + And Dido's beauty will return again. + Æneas, say, how can'st thou take thy leave? + Wilt thou kiss Dido? O, thy lips have sworn 120 + To stay with Dido! canst thou take her hand? + Thy hand and mine have plighted mutual faith; + Therefore, unkind Æneas, must thou say, + "Then let me go, and never say farewell?" + + _Æn._ O queen of Carthage, wert thou ugly-black, + Æneas could not choose but hold thee dear! + Yet must he not gainsay the gods' behest. + + _Dido._ The gods! what gods be those that seek my death? + Wherein have I offended Jupiter, + That he should take Æneas from mine arms? 130 + O no! the gods weigh not what lovers do: + It is Æneas calls Æneas hence; + And woful Dido, by these blubber'd[549] cheeks, + By this right hand, and by our spousal rites, + Desires Æneas to remain with her; + _Si_[550] _bene quid de te merui, fuit aut tibi quidquam_ + + _Dulce meum, miserere domus labentis, et istam, + Oro, si quis adhuc[551] precibus locus, exue mentem._ + + _Æn. Desine_[552] _meque tuis incendere teque querelis; + Italiam non sponte sequor._ 140 + + _Dido._ Hast thou forgot how many neighbour kings + Were up in arms, for making thee my love? + How Carthage did rebel, Iarbas storm, + And all the world calls me a second Helen, + For being entangled by a stranger's looks? + So thou wouldst prove as true as Paris did, + Would, as fair Troy was, Carthage might be sack'd, + And I be called a second Helena! + Had I a son by thee, the grief were less, + That I might see Æneas in his face: 150 + Now if thou go'st, what canst thou leave behind, + But rather will augment than ease my woe? + + _Æn._ In vain, my love, thou spend'st thy fainting breath: + If words might move me, I were overcome. + + _Dido._ And wilt thou not be mov'd with Dido's words? + Thy[553] mother was no goddess, perjured man, + Nor Dardanus the author of thy stock; + But thou art sprung from Scythian Caucasus, + And tigers of Hyrcania gave thee suck.-- + Ah, foolish Dido, to forbear this long!-- 160 + Wast thou not wrecked upon this Libyan shore, + And cam'st to Dido like a fisher swain? + Repaired not I thy ships, made thee a king, + And all thy needy followers noblemen? + O serpent, that came creeping from the shore, + And I for pity harbour'd in my bosom, + Wilt thou now slay me with thy venomed sting, + And hiss at Dido for preserving thee? + Go, go, and spare not; seek out Italy: + I hope that that which love forbids me do, 170 + The rocks and sea-gulfs will perform at large, + And thou shalt perish in the billows' ways + To whom poor Dido doth bequeath revenge: + I, traitor! and the waves shall cast thee up, + Where thou and false Achates first set foot; + Which if it chance, I'll give ye burial, + And weep upon your lifeless carcasses, + Though thou nor he will pity me a whit. + Why starest thou in my face? If thou wilt stay, + Leap in mine arms; mine arms are open wide; 180 + If not, turn from me, and I'll turn from thee; + For though thou hast the heart to say farewell, + I have not power to stay thee. [_Exit_ ÆNEAS. + Is he gone? + I, but he'll come again; he cannot go; + He loves me too-too well to serve me so: + Yet he that in my sight would not relent, + Will, being absent, be obdurate[554] still. + By this, is he got to the water-side; + + + And, see, the sailors take him by the hand; + But he shrinks back; and now remembering me, 190 + Returns amain: welcome, welcome, my love! + But where's Æneas? ah, he's gone, he's gone! + + _Enter_ ANNA. + + _Anna._ What means my sister, thus to rave and cry? + + _Dido._ O Anna, my Æneas is abroad, + And, leaving me, will sail to Italy! + Once didst thou go, and he came back again: + Now bring him back, and thou shalt be a queen, + And I will live a private life with him. + + _Anna._ Wicked Æneas! + + _Dido._ Call him not wicked, sister: speak him fair, 200 + And look upon him with a mermaid's eye; + Tell him, I never vow'd at Aulis' gulf + The desolation of his native Troy, + Nor sent a thousand ships unto the walls, + Nor ever violated faith to him; + Request him gently, Anna, to return: + I crave but this,--he stay a tide or two, + That I may learn to bear it patiently; + If he depart thus suddenly, I die. + Run, Anna, run; stay not to answer me. 210 + + _Anna._ I go, fair sister: heavens grant good success! [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ Nurse. + + _Nurse._ O Dido, your little son Ascanius + Is gone! he lay with me last night, + And in the morning he was stoln from me: + I think, some fairies have beguilèd me. + + _Dido._ O cursèd hag and false dissembling wretch, + That slay'st me with thy harsh and hellish tale! + Thou for some petty gift hast let him go, + And I am thus deluded of my boy.-- + Away with her to prison presently, 220 + + _Enter_ Attendants. + + Trait'ress too kenned[555] and cursèd sorceress! + + _Nurse._ I know not what you mean by treason, I; + I am as true as any one of yours. + + _Dido._ Away with her! suffer her not to speak. + [_Exit_ Nurse _with_ Attendants. + My sister comes: I like not her sad looks. + + _Re-enter_ ANNA. + + _Anna._ Before I came, Æneas was aboard, + And, spying me, hoist up the sails amain; + But I cried out, "Æneas, false Æneas, stay!" + Then gan he wag his hand, which, yet held up, + Made me suppose he would have heard me speak; 230 + Then gan they drive into the ocean: + Which when I view'd, I cried, "Æneas, stay! + Dido, fair Dido wills Æneas stay!" + Yet he, whose heart['s] of adamant or flint, + My tears nor plaints could mollify a whit. + Then carelessly I rent my hair for grief: + Which seen to all, though he beheld me not, + They gan to move him to redress my ruth, + And stay a while to hear what I could say; + But he, clapp'd under hatches, sail'd away. 240 + + _Dido._ O Anna, Anna, I will follow him! + + _Anna._ How can you go, when he hath all your fleet? + + _Dido._ I'll frame me wings of wax, like Icarus, + And, o'er his ships, will soar unto the sun, + That they may melt, and I fall in his arms; + Or else I'll make a prayer unto the waves, + That I may swim to him, like Triton's niece. + O Anna, [Anna,[556]] fetch Arion's[557] harp, + That I may tice a dolphin to the shore, + And ride upon his back unto my love! 250 + Look, sister, look! lovely Æneas' ships! + See, see, the billows heave him[558] up to heaven, + And now down falls the keels into the deep! + O sister, sister, take away the rocks! + They'll break his ships. O Proteus, Neptune, Jove, + Save, save, Æneas, Dido's liefest[559] love! + Now is he come on shore, safe without hurt: + But, see, Achates wills him put to sea, + And all the sailors merry-make for joy; + But he, remembering me, shrinks back again: 260 + See, where he comes! welcome, welcome, my love! + + _Anna._ Ah, sister, leave these idle fantasies! + Sweet sister, cease; remember who you are. + + _Dido._ Dido I am, unless I be deceiv'd: + And must I rave thus for a runagate? + Must I make ships for him to sail away? + Nothing can bear me to him but a ship, + And he hath all my[560] fleet.--What shall I do, + But die in fury of this oversight? + I; I must be the murderer of myself: 270 + No, but I am not; yet I will be straight.-- [_Aside._ + Anna, be glad; now have I found a mean + To rid me from these thoughts of lunacy: + Not far from hence + There is a woman famousèd for arts, + Daughter[561] unto the nymphs Hesperides, + Who will'd me sacrifice his ticing relics: + Go, Anna, bid my servants bring me fire. [_Exit_ ANNA. + + _Enter_ IARBAS. + + _Iar._ How long will Dido mourn a stranger's flight + That hath dishonoured her and Carthage both? 280 + How long shall I with grief consume my days, + And reap no guerdon for my truest love? + + _Enter_ Attendants _with wood and torches_. + + _Dido._ Iarbas, talk not of Æneas; let him go: + Lay to thy hands, and help me make a fire, + That shall consume all that this stranger left; + For I intend a private sacrifice, + To cure my mind, that melts for unkind love. + + _Iar._ But afterwards, will Dido grant me love? + + _Dido._ I, I, Iarbas; after this is done, + None in the world shall have my love but thou. 290 + [_They make a fire._ + So leave me now; let none approach this place. + [_Exeunt_ IARBAS _and_ Attendants. + Now, Dido, with these relics burn thyself, + And make Æneas famous through the world + For perjury and slaughter of a queen. + Here lie[562] the sword that in the darksome cave + He drew, and swore by, to be true to me: + Thou shall burn first; thy crime is worse than his. + Here lie the garment which I cloth'd him in + When first he came on shore; perish thou too. + These letters, lines, and perjur'd papers, all 300 + Shall burn to cinders in this precious flame. + And now, ye gods, that guide the starry frame, + And order all things at your high dispose, + Grant, though the traitors land in Italy, + They may be still tormented with unrest; + And from mine ashes let a conqueror rise, + That may revenge this treason to a queen + By ploughing up his countries with the sword! + Betwixt this land and that be never league; + _Litora_[563] _litoribus contraria, fluctibus undas 310 + Imprecor, arma armis; pugnent ipsique nepotes!_[564] + + Live, false Æneas; truest Dido dies; + _Sic,_[565] _sic iuvat ire sub umbras_. + [_Throws herself into the flames._ + + _Re-enter_ ANNA. + + _Anna._ O, help, Iarbas! Dido in these flames + Hath burnt herself! ay me, unhappy me! + + _Re-enter_ IARBAS, _running_. + + _Iar._ Cursèd Iarbas, die to expiate + The grief that tires[566] upon thine inward soul!-- + Dido, I come to thee.--Ay me, Æneas! [_Stabs himself and dies._ + + _Anna._ What can my tears or cries prevail[567] me now + Dido is dead! 320 + Iarbas slain, Iarbas my dear love! + O sweet Iarbas, Anna's sole delight! + What fatal destiny envies me thus, + To see my sweet Iarbas slay himself? + But Anna now shall honour thee in death, + And mix her blood with thine; this shall I do, + That gods and men may pity this my death, + And rue our ends, senseless of life or breath: + Now, sweet Iarbas, stay! I come to thee. + [_Stabs herself, and dies._ + + =END OF VOL II.= + + + + + FOOTNOTES FOR: "THE JEW OF MALTA" + +[1] Heywood dedicated to Thomas Hammon the _Second Part_ of the _Fair +Maid of the West_ (1631), and the _First Part_ of _The Iron Age_ (1632). + +[2] "Marlo." Marginal note in the old copy. + +[3] "Allin." Marginal note in the old copy. In the (old) Shakespeare +Society's publications there is a memoir by J. P. Collier of the +celebrated actor, the founder of Dulwich College, Edward Alleyn. + +[4] "Perkins." Marginal note in the old copy. Richard Perkins was an +actor of great ability. At the end of the _White Devil_ Webster speaks +of the "well-approved industry of my friend Master Perkins," and adds +that "the worth of his action did crown both the beginning and end." He +took the part of Capt. Goodlack in Heywood's _Fair Maid of the West_, of +Sir John Belfare in Shirley's _Wedding_, of Hanno in Nabbes' _Hannibal +and Scipio_, and of Fitzwater in Davenport's _King John and Matilda_. +From Wright's _Historia Histrionica_ we learn that he died "some years +before the Restoration." + +[5] "A metaphor borrowed from the fencing-school, prizes being played +for certain degrees in the schools where the Art of Defence was +taught,--degrees, it appears, of Master, Provost, and Scholar."--Dyce's +_Shakespeare Glossary_. + +[6] A friend of Alleyn's backed him for a wager to excel George Peele in +acting any part that had been sustained by Knell or Bentley. See Dyce's +_Greene and Peele_ (ed. 1861, pp. 330, 331). In the _Introduction_ to +the _Knight of the Burning Pestle_ the Citizen says that his prentice +Ralph "should have played Jeronimo with a shoemaker for a wager." + +[7] The Duc de Guise, who organised the Massacre of St. Bartholomew. He +was assassinated in 1588. + +[8] This is Dyce's correction for "empire." + +[9] Old ed. "the Drancus." + +[10] As a word is required to complete the verse, I have followed +Cunningham in inserting "but." + +[11] All the editions give "Britain." For the sake of the metre I read +"Britainy"--a form found in _Edward II._, ii. 2, l. 42. + +[12] Old ed. "Samintes," for which the modern editors give "Samnites." +Between the "Samnites" and the "men of Uz" there can be no possible +connection. My emendation suits the context. We have Saba for Sabæa in +_Faustus_, xii. 25, &c. + +[13] Old ed. "silverbings." Dyce observes that the word "silverling" +occurs in _Isaiah_ (vii. 23):--"A thousand vines at a thousand +silverlings." + +[14] It was a common belief that a stuffed halcyon (_i.e._, kingfisher), +suspended by the bill, showed from what quarter the wind blew. +Shakespeare alludes to the superstition in _Lear_, ii. 2,-- + + "Renege, affirm, and turn their _halcyon beaks_ + With every gale and vary of their master." + +Sir Thomas Browne, who discusses the subject in _Vulgar Errors_ (iii. +10), says that "the eldest custom of hanging up these birds was founded +upon a tradition that they would renew their feathers every year as +though they were alive." + +[15] Pay the duty on them. + +[16] Old ed. "By" (which might perhaps be defended, as meaning +"good-bye." Cf. Shirley's _Constant Maid_, i. 1,--"_Buoy_, Close, +_buoy_, honest Close: we are blanks, blanks.") + +[17] A recognised form of "scrambled." Cf. _Henry V._ i. 1:-- + + "But that the _scambling_ and unquiet time + Did push it out of farther question." + +[18] The scene is shifted to the Exchange. + +[19] Old ed. "_Iew._ Doe so; Farewell, Zaareth," &c. Dyce is doubtless +right in considering that "doe so" is a stage direction (= _Exeunt +Merchants_), which has crept into the text. + +[20] A misquotation from Terence's _Andria_, iv. 1. 12, "Proximus sum +egomet mihi." + +[21] Scene: the Senate-house. + +[22] Old ed. "governours." + +[23] Old ed. "governours." + +[24] Convert. The word occurs in _As You Like It_, _King John_, &c. + +[25] Old ed. "governours." + +[26] In the 4to. this line is given to the Officer. + +[27] Probably we should read--"You, ne'er possessed," etc. + +[28] Dyce proposed "redress." + +[29] Portuguese gold coins. + +[30] Steevens (on _2 Henry IV._ ii. 4, l. 42) quotes several passages +where "sect" is used for "sex." + +[31] The passage is no doubt corrupt. Cunningham reads "unforeseen," and +explains the meaning to be "a steady consistent piece of acting is +better than having to put on the hypocrite at a moment's warning." + +[32] Old ed. "Enter three Fryars and two Nuns." + +[33] Old ed. "1 Nun." + +[34] Can this word be right? Qu. "cloisters"? + +[35] Old ed. "_Nun._" + +[36] _I.e._, sometime. + +[37] Dyce reads "forgive," perhaps rightly. + +[38] Here the old ed. gives "+" (to indicate the notch in the plank +under which the treasure was concealed). + +[39] I have added the second "go" for the sake of the metre. + +[40] Scene: before Barabas' house. + +[41] Collier notices that ll. 1, 2, are found (with slight variation) in +Guilpin's _Skialetheia_, 1598. Cf. Peele's _David and Bethsabe_:-- + + "Like as the fatal raven, that in his voice + Carries the dreadful summons of our death." + +[42] Cf. _Dido_, iii. 3:-- + + "Who would not undergo all kind of toil + To be well stored with such a _winter's tale_." + +The words "in my _wealth_" have little meaning; I suspect that we should +read "in my _youth_." + +[43] Cf. _Hamlet_, i. 1:-- + + "Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life + Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, + For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, + Speak of it." + +[44] Old ed. "walke." + +[45] Old ed. "Birn para todos, my ganada no er." I have adopted Dyce's +reading. + +[46] Dyce thinks that Shakespeare recollected this passage when he +wrote:-- + + "But soft! what light through yonder window breaks? + It is the East and Juliet is the sun." + +[47] Cf. _Job_ xli. 18:--"By his neesings a light doth shine, and his +eyes are like the _eyelids of the morning_." So Sophocles in the +_Antigone_ speaks of the sun as ~hameras blepharon~. The reader +will remember the line in _Lycidas_:-- + + "Under the opening _eyelids of the morn_." + +[48] "Perhaps what is meant here is an exclamation on the beautiful +appearance of money, Hermoso parecer de los dinos, but it is +questionable whether this would be good Spanish."--_Collier._ Dyce gives +"Hermoso Placer." + +[49] Scene: the Senate-house. + +[50] _I.e._, did not lower our sails. Cf. _1 Tamburlaine_, i. 2, l. 193. + +[51] Old ed. "Spanish." + +[52] Old ed. "left and tooke." The correction was made by Dyce. + +[53] Established. + +[54] Cf. _King John_, i. 2:-- + + "And now instead of _bullets wrapt in fire_." + +[55] Scene: the market-place. + +[56] The modern editors give "Poor villains, such as," &c.; but the +reading of the 4to. is quite intelligible. + +[57] Cf. Shylock's "Still have I borne it with a patient shrug." + +[58] Dyce quotes from Barnabe Barnes' _Divils Charter_, 1607, "For I +must _have a saying to_ those bottels." + +[59] Pieces of silver. Cf. _Ant. and Cleo._:-- + + "Realms and islands were + As _plates_ dropt from his pocket." + +[60] Old ed. "_Itha._" + +[61] A cant word still in use. + +[62] Old ed. "_Ith._" + +[63] An allegorical character in the old moralities. Cf. _1 Henry IV._ +ii. 4:--"That reverend _vice_, that grey _iniquity_, that _vanity_ in +years." In the _Devil is an Ass_, "Lady Vanity" is coupled with +"Iniquity." + +[64] Old ed. "Mater." + +[65] Stop our conversation. + +[66] I have followed Dyce's suggestion in adding this word. + +[67] An important part in Barabas' get-up was his large nose. In William +Rowley's _Search for Money_, 1609, there is an allusion to the +"artificial Jew of Malta's nose." + +[68] In _Titus Andronicus_ Aaron gives a somewhat similar catalogue of +villainies. + +[69] Use. + +[70] Heartily. + +[71] The scene shifts to the front of Barabas' house. + +[72] Dyce's correction for the old copy's "vow to love him." + +[73] Affianced. "Accordailles, the betrothing or _making sure_ of a man +and woman together."--_Cotgrave._ + +[74] The word "he" was inserted by Cunningham for the sake of the metre. + +[75] A piece of money marked on one side with a cross. + +[76] Old ed. "thee." + +[77] Bellamira displays herself on a balcony. Cf. a stage-direction in +Brome's _Covent Garden Weeded_:--"Enter Dorcas above on a Bellconie. +Gabriel gazes at her. Dorcas is habited like a curtizan of Venice." + +[78] Scene: a street. + +[79] Old ed.-- + + "_Enter Lodow. reading._ + + "_Math._ What dares the villain," &c. The challenge was "feign'd + from Lodowick." + +[80] On the upper-stage, a raised platform. + +[81] Bold. + +[82] Here and elsewhere, for the sake of the metre, Dyce prints +"Lodovico." Perhaps he is right, for the name may have been contracted +into "Lod." or "Lodo." in the MS. from which the play was printed. + +[83] Dyce compares _3 Henry VI._ ii. 5:-- + + "_These arms of mine_ shall be thy winding sheet; + My heart, sweet boy, _shall be thy supulchre_." + +[84] Cf. _Two Gentlemen of Verona_, iii. 2:-- + + "Say that upon the altar of her beauty + You sacrifice your tears." + +[85] "Impartial" is occasionally used by old writers in the sense of +"unkindly." Cf. Prologue to Peele's _Arraignment of Paris_:-- + + "Th' _unpartial_ daughters of Necessity + Bin aiders in her suit." + +So in William Smith's _Chloris_(Sonnet 11):-- + + "No, it was not Nature's ornament + But wingèd love's _unpartial_ cruel wound." + +[86] Scene: a room in Barabas' house. + +[87] "Kept in expectation, having their hopes flattered."--_Dyce._ + +[88] Old ed. "Jaynes." + +[89] Dyce's correction: old ed. "sinne." + +[90] So the old ed. Cunningham boldly reads "Governor," which is +certainly the word we should have expected. + +[91] Dyce and the other editors give "When duck you?" I take "when" to +be an abrupt exclamation denoting impatience, in which sense the word is +often found (see Dyce's _Shakespeare Glossary_). + +[92] Scene: a room in Barabas' house. + +[93] _I.e._ portendeth. + +[94] Old ed. "life." + +[95] Old ed. "least." + +[96] A very old proverb; it is found in Chaucer's _Squieres Tale_, John +Heywood's _Proverbs, Comedy of Errors_, &c. + +[97] Old ed. "plot." + +[98] _I.e._ in abundance. Dyce compares Beaumont and Fletcher's _Knight +of the Burning Pestle_, ii. 2:-- "Here's money and gold _by th' eye_, my +boy." + +[99] Briefly. + +[100] The juice of ebony (variously written "hebon" or "hebenon") was +thought to be a strong poison. Cf. _Hamlet_, i. 5:-- + + "Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole + With juice of cursed _hebenon_ in a vial." + +[101] Scene: the Senate-house. + +[102] Old ed. "Bashaws." (I have kept the spelling "Basso" throughout.) + +[103] Scene: a room in the convent.--The stage direction in the 4to. is + + "_Enter two Friars and Abigail._" + +[104] Scene: a street. + +[105] _I.e._ compared to. + +[106] A vulgar Italian oath. (Old ed. "_Catho diabola._") + +[107] Old ed. "inmates." + +[108] Upper rooms; lofts. The word is still used in some parts of the +country. + +[109] Dyce reads "untold." + +[110] This line and the next are given to Ithamore in the old copy. + +[111] Ithamore. + +[112] The old form (preserved in "Covent Garden") of "convent." + +[113] Scene: a room in Barabas' house. In the 4to. this scene is a +continuation of the former. + +[114] Old ed. "save." Perhaps we should read:-- "What will you? save my +life!" + +[115] Scene: the front of Barabas' house. + +[116] I am tempted to arrange the verse thus:-- + + "O happy hour, + Wherein I shall convert an infidel, + And bring his gold into our treasury!" + +[117] Scene: a balcony of Bellamira's house. + +[118] The verse read by criminals to entitle them to "benefit of +clergy." The first words of the 51st Psalm were commonly chosen. + +[119] Sermon. Cf. _Richard III._ iii. 2:-- + + "I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my heart; + I am in debt for your last _exercise_." + +[120] _I.e._, a pair of mustachios. + +[121] The contemptuous expression "Turk of tenpence" is found in +Dekker's _Satiromastix_, &c. + +[122] In old ed. these words are printed as part of the text. I have +followed Dyce in printing them as a stage-direction. + +[123] So the old ed.--Dyce and Cunningham read "cunning;" but the +expression "running banquet" (akin to our "hasty meal") occurs in _Henry +VIII._ i. 4, l. 13. + +[124] So modern editors. Old ed. "steed." + +[125] Dyce observes that "realm" was often written "ream." Marlowe was +not much addicted to quibbling. + +[126] A musical term. + +[127] Scene: a room in Barabas' house. + +[128] "Tottered" and "tattered" are used indifferently by old writers. + +[129] Cf. a somewhat similar description of a ruffian in _Arden of +Feversham_:-- + + "A lean-faced writhen knave, + Hawk-nosed and very hollow-eyed, + With mighty furrows in his stormy brows; + Long hair down his shoulders curled; + His chin was bare, but on his upper lip + A mutchado which he _wound about his ear_." + +[130] A word formed from "catso." + +[131] Swindling. + +[132] Scene: the balcony of Bellamira's house. + +[133] Old ed. _Pil._ + +[134] The origin of this boisterous exclamation is uncertain. Gifford +suggested that it was corrupted from the Spanish _rio_, which is +figuratively used for "a large quantity of liquor." Dyce quotes from the +anonymous comedy, _Look about you_:-- + + "And _Ryvo_ will he cry and _Castile_ too." + +[135] A corrupt passage. "Snickle" is a North-country word for "noose." +Cunningham proposed "snickle _hard and fast_." + +[136] Old ed. "_incoomy._" The word "incony" (which is found in _Love's +Labour's Lost_, &c.) means "delicate, dainty." It has been doubtfully +derived from the North-country "canny" or "conny" (in the sense of +pretty), the prefix "in" having an intensive force. + +[137] Dyce quotes from Sir John Mandeville:--"And fast by is zit the +tree of Eldre that Judas henge him self upon for despeyt that he hadde +when he solde and betrayed our Lorde."--_Voiage and Travell_, &c., p. +112, ed. 1725. "That Judas hanged himself," says Sir Thomas Browne, +"much more that he perished thereby, we shall not raise a doubt. +Although Jansenius, discoursing the point, produceth the testimony of +Theophylact and Euthymius that he died not by the gallows but under a +cart-wheel; and Baronius also delivereth, this was the opinion of the +Greeks and derived as high as Papias one of the disciples of John. +Although, also, how hardly the expression of Matthew is reconcileable +unto that of Peter, and that he plainly hanged himself, with that, that +falling headlong he burst asunder in the midst--with many other the +learned Grotius plainly doth acknowledge."--_Vulgar Errors_, vii. 11. + +[138] Old ed. "masty." Dyce "nasty." + +[139] Old ed. "we." + +[140] Scene: the Senate-house. + +[141] We are to suppose that Barabas' body had been thrown "o'er the +walls," according to the Governor's order. The scene is now changed from +the Senate-house to the outside of the city. + +[142] A herb of powerful soporific qualities. Shakespeare couples it +with "poppy" in _Othello_:-- + + "Not poppy nor _mandragora_, + Nor all the powerful syrups of the world, + Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep + Which thou ow'dst yesterday." + +[143] Old ed. "truce." The correction is Collier's. Dyce reads "trench." + +[144] Scene: a square in the city. + +[145] Lower. + +[146] Old ed. "to kept." + +[147] The scene shifts to the Governor's house. + +[148] _I.e._ "intend'st." + +[149] Large cannons. + +[150] See vol. 1, p. 67, note 2. + +[151] Old ed.-- + + "And toward Calabria back'd by Sicily, + Two lofty Turrets that command the Towne. + _When_ Siracusian Dionisius reign'd; + I wonder how it could be conquer'd thus." + +The correction was made by the editor of 1826. + +[152] Scene: a street. + +[153] The stick that held the gunner's match. + +[154] Scene: the hall of the Governor's house. Barabas is in the +gallery. + +[155] Old ed. "Serv." + +[156] Old ed. "summe." + +[157] Dyce reads "ascend." + +[158] The stage-direction in old ed. is "A charge, the cable cut. A +caldron discovered." In Scene 4 the Governor had directed the Knights +and Del Bosco to issue out at the discharge of the culverin. + +[159] Cunningham's correction for the old eds. "fate." + +[160] Intended. + +[161] Old ed. "meditate." + +[162] Old ed. "call." + + + + + FOOTNOTES FOR: "EDWARD THE SECOND" + +[163] Scene: a street in London. + +[164] So 4tos.--Dyce gives "lie;" but "die" may perhaps be interpreted +as "swoon." + +[165] Cf. Day's _Parliament of Bees_:-- + + "Yet if you meet a tart antagonist, + Or discontented rugged satirist, + That slights your errant or his art that penned it, + Cry _Tanti!_" + +So in the Prologue to Day's _Isle of Gulls_:-- + + "Detraction he scorns, honours the best: + _Tanti_ for hate, thus low for all the rest." + +[166] So Dyce.--4tos. "fanne." + +[167] Mr. Tancock quotes from Pliny's _Natural History_:--"Hystrici +longiores aculei et cum intendit cutem missiles. Ora urgentium figit +canum et paulo longius jaculatur." + +[168] So the 4tos.--Dyce reads "sylvan." + +[169] The name of a rustic dance. + +[170] So the 4tos.--Dyce reads "shall." + +[171] The 4tos. read, "My lord, here comes the king and the nobles." +Dyce gives, "Here comes my lord the king and the nobles." Mr. Fleay +arranges the passage thus:-- + + "Here comes my lord + The king and th' nobles from the parliament. + I'll stand aside." + +[172] Equivalent to a dissyllable. + +[173] Cf. _3 Henry VI._ v. 6, "_aspiring_ blood of Lancaster." + +[174] I have kept the form found in ed. 1598, as a trisyllable is here +required. + +[175] Dyce's correction "leave" seems unnecessary. Warwick is speaking +ironically. + +[176] Dyce altered "Gaveston" to "Lancaster;" but the language is +ironical. + +[177] Fight, contend. The word is borrowed from the game of tennis. + +[178] Ed. 1598, "mourned _for_ Hercules." Eds. 1612, 1622, "mourned _for +of_ Hercules"--and so Dyce. + +[179] Rule. Cf. _1 Tamburlaine_, i. 1, l. 119. + +[180] Kennel, gutter. Cf._Jew of Malta_, v. 1, l. 91. + +[181] Dyce proposed to read "Prut prut!" others suppose that the bishop +is playing on the word "convey," which was a cant term for "steal." Cf. +_Richard II._ iv. 1, l. 113:-- + + "_Bol._ Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower. + _King._ O good! convey! conveyers are you all." + +[182] So eds. 1612, 1622.--Ed. 1598 omits "best." + +[183] Scene: Westminster. + +[184] Untimely. + +[185] Are angry at him. We have the word again later in the play-- + + "I know, my lord, many will _stomach_ me." + +[186] Old eds. "Weele." + +[187] It is not absolutely necessary to suppose that there is an +allusion to any particular forest. What the queen means is that she is +seeking solitude. + +[188] Scene: a street. + +[189] Scene: the New Temple (cf. ll. 74-5 of scene ii.). At the entrance +of the king we are to suppose a change of scene. + +[190] "Was the poet thinking of Ovid, 'Non bene conveniunt,' &c. Met. +ii. 846?"--_Dyce_. + +[191] Perhaps we should read "upon": but "traitor" may be pronounced as +a trisyllable by inserting a vowel sound before the first _r_. + +[192] Float. + +[193] So ed. 1612.--Ed. 1598 "lord." + +[194] So ed. 1598.--Ed. 1612 "are." + +[195] Loon, worthless fellow. + +[196] So ed. 1598.--Dyce prints "with," and neglects--contrary to his +custom--to record the reading of the earlier copies. + +[197] This line and the preceding occur with slight alteration in the +_Massacre of Paris_:-- + + "I'll fire his crazèd buildings and incense + The papal towers to kiss the holy [sic] earth." + +[198] 4tos. "may." + +[199] So the old copies.--Dyce reads "My _love_ drops down a tear." + +[200] Care. + +[201] "The entrance of Kent seems to have been marked here by +mistake."--_Dyce_. + +[202] 4tos. "Circes." + +[203] So ed. 1598.--Ed. 1612 "that." + +[204] So ed. 1598.--Dyce (who retains the verb "injury" in _1 +Tamburlaine_, I, i.) prints silently "injures." + +[205] Avail. + +[206] Regard, consideration, Cf. _Hamlet_-- + + "There's the _respect_ + That makes calamity of so long life." + +[207] Lower. + +[208] So ed. 1612.--ed. 1598 "soueraigne." + +[209] Affianced him. + +[210] Eds. 1598, 1612, "Hector." Ed. 1622 "The conquering _Hector did_ +for Hilas weepe." + +[211] Cf. _2 Henry VI._ i. 3:-- + + "She bears a _duke's revenue on her back_." + +[212] Worthless fellows. + +[213] So ed. 1598.--Later eds. "others." + +[214] Scene: a hall in Gloucester's mansion. + +[215] So ed. 1612.--Omitted in ed. 1598. + +[216] Scene: before Tynemouth Castle. + +[217] Reed refers to Pliny's _Nat. Hist_., ix. 19; but Pliny merely says +that the exocoetus would leap on to a rocky ledge in warm weather and +there bask in the sun. It is curious that Dyce, who was such an +enthusiast for Athenæus, did not refer his readers to the account of the +exocoetus quoted from Clearchus in _Deipnos._ viii. 5. According to +this authority the fish, when basking on the ledge, has to be constantly +on his guard against king-fishers and the like, and when he sees them +afar, flies leaping and gasping until he dives under the water. Perhaps +Marlowe had in his mind some embellished account that he had found in +Gesner or Bellonius. + +[218] So ed. 1612.--Omitted in ed. 1598. + +[219] Old eds. "_Edw._" (a misprint for "_Edm._"--the prefix in the +4tos. to Kent's speeches.) + +[220] Old eds. "gresses" (for "gesses.")--"Jesses" were the straps round +a hawk's legs, with rings (called "varvels,") to which the falconer's +leash was attached. + +[221] So ed. 1622.--Eds. 1598, 1612, "sure." + +[222] Old eds. read:-- + + "_Pem._ Here, here, king: convey hence Gaveston, + thaile murder him." + +I have followed Dyce in giving the line "Convey hence Gaveston, &c.," to +the king; but I do not agree with him in regarding "king" as a prefix +(for in the old copies "_Edw._" is always the prefix to the king's +speeches.) + +[223] The reader cannot fail to be reminded of Hotspur:-- + + "But I will find him when he lies asleep, + And in his ear I'll holla 'Mortimer!'" + +[224] The scene shifts to the interior of Tynemouth Castle. + +[225] So ed. 1612.--Ed. 1598 "would." + +[226] So ed. 1612.--Ed. 1598 "thy _treasure_ drie and made _the_ weake." + +[227] So modern editors.--Old eds. "hath." + +[228] Light-armed foot soldiers, poor and undisciplined.--Compare a +passage in the _Contention of York and Lancaster_:-- + + "The wild Onele, my lord, is up in arms, + With troops of Irish kernes that uncontroll'd + Doth plant themselves within the English pale." + +[229] Old eds. "made."--"Road,"="Inroad." + +[230] old eds. "Drave." + +[231] Cf. _3 Henry VI_. i. 1:--"Stern Faulconbridge _commands the narrow +seas_." + +[232] Against. + +[233] Jeering. + +[234] This jig (ballad) is taken with slight alteration from Fabyan's +"Chronicle," ii. 169 (ed. 1559).--"The battle of Bannockburn," says Mr. +Fleay, "was fought in 1314, yet is here alluded to in a scene which is +made up from narratives of events which occurred between 1309 and 1311. +This is a striking instance of Marlowe's carelessness in such matters." + +[235] "Common burdens to songs; see Skelton's _Works_, ii. 110, ed. +Dyce."--_Dyce._ + +[236] "Ralph de Wigmore, who came into England with the Conqueror, +obtained the Castle of Wigmore, Co. Hereford, and the Roger Mortimer of +this play was summoned to Parliament as 'de Wigmore.'"--_Cunningham._ + +[237] Old eds. "him." + +[238] Scene: the neighbourhood of Tynemouth. + +[239] Surmise. + +[240] Tattered. + +[241] "In all Latin deeds the Mortimers are called 'de Mortuo mari.'" +_Cunningham._ + +[242] Scene: the interior of Tynemouth Castle. + +[243] Delay. The word occurs in _3 Henry VI._ ii. 3, l. 56; _Arden of +Feversham, &c._ + +[244] Old eds. "this." + +[245] So ed. 1622.--Eds. 1598, 1612, "_and_ therefore." + +[246] "There is such uncertainty about the location of this scene that I +can only mark it--an open country."--_Dyce._ + +[247] The Italian form of "maugre." + +[248] So ed. 1612.--Ed. 1598 "these." + +[249] A line, as Dyce remarks, in which Warwick says that Gaveston shall +be _beheaded_, has dropped out. + +[250] The passage is corrupt: I have followed the reading of the old +eds. Dyce gives-- + + "Will _now_ these _short_ delays beget my hopes?" + +[251] "When? can you tell?"--a sort of proverbial expression. See Dyce's +_Shakespeare Glossary_. + +[252] So Dyce.--Ed. 1598 omits "his." Eds. 1612, 1622, read:-- "He that +_hath_ the care of Realme-remits." ("Care" must be pronounced as a +dissyllable.) + +[253] Cunningham reads "sees." + +[254] Old eds. "It is." + +[255] "The exclamation of those who repent what they have rashly +done."--_Dyce._ + +[256] Here and throughout iii. II, the 4tos give "Mat" and "Matreuis" +for "Arundel." The mistake arose, as Dyce pointed out, by the parts of +Arundel and Matrevis having been taken by the same actor. + +[257] Scene: the open country (near Warwick?). + +[258] The meaning is surely "ghost, spirit," not, as Mr. Fleay +interprets, "representative, plenipotentiary." + +[259] Scene: neighbourhood of Borrowbridge. + +[260] Braggard challenges. + +[261] Fr. haut. + +[262] Old eds "the." + +[263] So ed. 1612.--Ed. 1598 "come." + +[264] Cunningham and Mr. Fleay silently print "more." + +[265] Ed. 1598 "heres is."--Ed. 1612, 1622, "heres." + +[266] So ed. 1622.--Eds. 1598, 1612, "roote." + +[267] So ed. 1612.--Ed. 1598 "leave." + +[268] Schemes. + +[269] So ed. 1612.--Ed. 1589 "It is." + +[270] Rule. + +[271] Old eds. "leuied." + +[272] Old eds. "claps close." + +[273] Scene: London, near the Tower. + +[274] Scene: Paris. + +[275] So eds. 1598, 1622.--Ed. 1612 "goe." + +[276] Mr. Fleay reads "please," supposing that the letters _th_ are +repeated from the next word. + +[277] Dyce's correction "on" seems to be quite unnecessary. + +[278] Dyce needlessly reads "part." + +[279] Equipped to meet our foes. + +[280] Earned. + +[281] An allusion to the game of _Prisoner's Base_. To "bid a base" is +for a player to run into the centre and challenge one of the opposite +party to pursue. + +[282] Scene: the royal palace, London. + +[283] Old eds. "_Matr._" and "_Matreuis._"--The elder Spencer is a _muta +persona_. Mr. Fleay, who ousts him altogether from this scene, observes +"There is no hint of Old Spencer being on the stage after the third +act,"--strangely forgetting that he is introduced in the fifth scene of +the present act. + +[284] Old eds. "_Matr._" + +[285] So ed. 1598.--Eds. 1612, 1622, "not long ago." + +[286] Old eds. "Isabell." + +[287] Cf. _Romeo and Juliet_, iii. 2:--"Gallop apace you fiery-footed +steeds," &c. + +[288] Scene: the neighbourhood of Harwich. + +[289] Kennel. + +[290] Scene: the neighbourhood of Bristol. + +[291] So ed. 1622.--Eds. 1598, 1612, "successfulls." + +[292] As in l. 21 Kent determined to "dissemble," I have not changed the +prefix of the old eds. Dyce gives the words to _Y. Mor._ Mr. Fleay +prints-- + + "_Kent._ This, Edward, is the ruin, &c. + [_To the Prince._" + +[293] Scene: the Abbey of Neath, Glamorganshire. + +[294] So ed. 1598.--Omitted in ed. 1612. (Ed. 1622 "thy.") + +[295] So eds. 1598, 1612.--Ed. 1622 "_with_ sore" (and so Dyce.) + +[296] So eds. 1612, 1622.--Ed. 1598 "open." + +[297] Seneca _Thyestes_, 613. + +[298] Old form of "yearns." + +[299] So old eds. The repetition of "and these" in the next line is +certainly suspicious. Dyce proposed + + "For friends hath _hapless_ Edward none but these, + And these must die," &c. + +Mr. Fleay's suggestion that "these and these" are "the 'hags' and +'Spencer and Baldock,'" seems very questionable. + +[300] Mr. Fleay prints this speech as verse: + + "Come, come, keep these preachments till you come + To th' place appointed. You, and such as you are, + Have made wise work in England; will you away." + +The lines hobble badly. + +[301] Scene: Kenilworth Castle. + +[302] Dittany. Cf. Virgil _Aen._ xii. 411-15:-- + + "Hic Venus, indigno nati concussa dolore, + _Dictamnum_ genitrix Cretaea carpit ab Ida, + Puberibus caulem foliis et flore comantum + Purpureo: _non illa feris incognita capris + Gramina cum tergo volucres hausere sagittæ_." + +Elizabethan poets are fond of alluding to the virtues of this herb. Cf. +(one of many instances) Peele's _Arraignment of Paris_, iii. 1:-- + + "And whither wends yon thriveless swain? like to the stricken deer, + Seeks he _dictamnum_ for his wound within our forest here." + +[303] Rule. + +[304] An allusion (as Steevens observed) to Creusa's crown in Euripides' +_Medea_. + +[305] Old eds. "vines." + +[306] Ed. 1622 "survive" (and so Dyce). + +[307] So eds. 1612, 1622.--Omitted in ed. 1598. + +[308] Ed. 1612 "_not_ whilst I live." + +[309] In old eds. after this line the entrance of Berkeley is marked. I +have followed Dyce in giving the words "My lord" to Winchester, and in +placing Berkeley's entrance after line 127. + +[310] Eds. 1612, 1622, "and." + +[311] Scene: the royal palace, London. + +[312] An allusion to the Greek proverb, + ~ton lykon tôn ôtôn echô~. + +[313] So eds. 1612, 1622.--Ed. 1598 "as." + +[314] So eds. 1612, 1622.--Ed. 1598 "will." + +[315] The entrance and exit of Winchester are not marked in the old eds. +I have followed Dyce. + +[316] Dyce proposed to omit the word "letter." + +[317] Mr. Fleay reads:-- + + "And where he lieth none but we shall know." + +[318] Ed. 1598 "it."--Eds. 1612, 1622, "it is." + +[319] Scene: precincts of Kenilworth Castle. + +[320] Aura vitæ. + +[321] Edward II. was only forty-three when he was murdered. Stow often +speaks of Edward II. as the "old king." Malone on _Richard II._ i. 1 +("Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster"), remarks:--"Our +ancestors, in their estimate of old age, appear to have reckoned +somewhat differently from us, and to have considered men as old whom we +should esteem middle-aged. With them every man that had passed fifty +seems to have been accounted an old man.... I believe this is made to +arise from its being customary to enter into life in former times at an +earlier period than we do now. Those who were married at fifteen had at +fifty been masters of a house and family for thirty-five years." + +[322] Scene: the Royal Palace, London. + +[323] So ed. 1598.--Eds. 1612, 1622, "down." + +[324] Ovid _Metam._ vi. 195. + +[325] The scene shifts to Westminster. + +[326] Old eds. "Bishop." + +[327] Scene: Berkeley Castle. + +[328] _I.e._, the dungeon full of mire and puddle. But perhaps we should +read "lock." + +[329] A curtain is drawn and the king is discovered in the dungeon. + +[330] Business. + +[331] So eds. 1598, 1612.--Ed. 1622 "tottered." + +[332] The feather-bed mentioned in l. 32. "It was no doubt thrust upon +the stage from the wing after the exit of Gurney and Matrevis."--_Dyce._ + +[333] Old eds. "That _and_ even." + +[334] Mr. Fleay would read "fau't" (_i.e._ fault), comparing _Richard +III._ ii. 1, 104:--"His _fault_ was thought." + +[335] So ed. 1598.--Omitted in eds. 1612, 1622. + +[336] So eds. 1598, 1612, ("eies-lids").--Ed. 1622 "eye lids." + +[337] Eds. 1598, 1612, "O let me not die, yet stay, O stay a while." Ed. +1622 "O let me not die yet! O stay a while" (and so Dyce). Mr. Fleay +prints:-- + + "Oh! + Let me not die yet; stay, oh stay a while." + +[338] Scene: the royal palace, London. + +[339] So ed. 1598.--Omitted in eds. 1612, 1622. + +[340] The old eds. repeat "I." + +[341] The prefix in the old eds. is "_Lords._" + +[342] So ed. 1598.--Eds. 1612, 1622, "_How now_, my Lord?" (which is +perhaps the right reading). + +[343] Old eds. "_Lords._" + +[344] Omitted in eds. 1612, 1622. + +[345] Old eds. "_Lords._" + +[346] So ed. 1598.--Eds. 1612, 1622, "the." + +[347] Old eds. "_Lords._" + + + + + FOOTNOTES FOR: "THE MASSACRE AT PARIS" + +[348] In the old copy there is no division into scenes. Scene: an +apartment in the Louvre. + +[349] Untimely. + +[350] Scene: an apartment in a house near the Louvre. + +[351] "About noone, when he [the Admiral] was in returning home from the +Counsell, with a greate companie of noblemen and gentlemen, beholde a +harquebuzier out of a window of a house neere adjoyning shot the Admiral +with two bullets of lead through both the arms.... The name of him that +shot was very diligently kept secret. Some, saye it was Manrevet, which +in the third Civill War traitorously slew his Captaine, Monsieur de +Mony, a most valiant and noble gentleman, and straightway fled into the +enemie's campe. Some say it was Bondot, one of the archers of the king's +guard."--_The Three Partes of Commentaries containing the whole and +perfect discourse of the Civill Wars of France, &c._ 1574 (Book x.). + +[352] Crowns. + +[353] This word occurs in _3 Henry VI._, v. 1, and _Titus Andronicus_, +v. 3; also in Shakespeare's _Sonnets_ and _Rape of Lucrece_. + +[354] Dwell. (In this sense the word "keep" is still used at Cambridge.) + +[355] Old ed. "Nauarre, Nauarre." + +[356] So old ed.--Dyce reads, "That those which do behold them." + +[357] Scene: a street. + +[358] Cunningham arranges ll. 34-5 thus: + + "We are betrayed! come, my lords, and let us + Go tell the king of this." + +[359] Scene: an apartment in the Louvre. + +[360] So Dyce.--Old ed. "suspected." + +[361] Beset. + +[362] Old ed. "humble." + +[363] Not marked in old ed. + +[364] Old ed. "Enter the Admirall in his bed," a stage-direction meaning +that a bed containing the Admiral should be thrust upon the stage. Cf. a +stage-direction in Heywood's _Golden Age_;--"_Enter the foure old +Beldams, drawing out Danae's bed, she in it._" + +[365] Dyce reads "his." + +[366] Scene: a street. + +[367] Commencement. Dyce quotes from Heywood's _Four Prentises of +London_:-- + + "Take them to guard: this _entrance_ to our warres + Is full of spirit, and begets much hope." + +[368] From the upper stage. + +[369] "Then a certain Italian of Gonzague's band cut off the Admiral's +head, and sent it, preserved with spices, to Rome to the Pope and the +Cardinal of Lorraine. Others cut off his hands."--_Three Parts of +Commentaries_, &c., Book x. p. 14. + +[370] "So the old ed.; and so indeed our early authors usually wrote the +name: + + 'O, may they once as high as Haman mount, + And from _Mount Faulcon_ give a sad account,' &c. + +Sylvester's _Du Bartas's._"--_Dyce._ + +[371] Scene: a street. + +[372] Scene: the entrance to Seroune's house. + +[373] Old ed. "Sancta." + +[374] Old ed. "he was." + +[375] Old ed. "Rene." + +[376] Old ed. "scoftes." + +[377] Old ed. "actions." + +[378] I have adopted Mitford's emendation. The reading of the old ed. is +"Argumentum testimonis est in arte fetialis." + +[379] Old ed. "Shekins." + +[380] Grounds of proof,--in the scholastic sense of ~topoi~, or +loci. "Itaque licet definire, _locum esse argumenti sedem_."--Cicero, +_Top._ ii. 3. + +[381] Old ed. "thorbonest." + +[382] " ... tandemque P. Ramum diu quaesitum vicariorum coryphaeus unus +offendit, eique veniam frustra deprecanti vulnus in brachio infligit, et +plurimis aliis ictibus postea confoditur.... E fenestra spiritum trahens +praecipitatur in aream, pedibusque fune devinctis per urbis sordes +devolvitur et capite a chirurgo quodam truncato cadaver in ... Sequanam +flumen misere projicitur."--Theophilus Banosius' _Vita Rami_, prefixed +to _Commentarii de Religione Christiana_ (Francofurti, 1577). + +[383] "'Carbonarius pater probri loco illi [sc. Ramo] objectus est.' +_Rami Vita per Freigium_."--_Dyce._ + +[384] Old ed. "Rene." + +[385] The scene shifts to the King of Navarre's quarters in the Louvre. + +[386] The young Prince of Condé, cousin to the King of Navarre. + +[387] The stage-direction in old ed. is "Enter Guise." + +[388] Scene: a room in the Louvre. + +[389] Scene: near Paris. + +[390] Old ed. "_by_ the." + +[391] Scene: a wood near Paris. + +[392] Scene: a room in the Castle of Vincennes. + +[393] Du-Plessis Mornay. + +[394] Old ed. "there," which Dyce silently retains. The correction was +made by Cunningham, who explains the passage thus:--"There are persons +(you yourself and my Protestant subjects, for instance) from whom I have +deserved a scourge, but their feelings would never lead them to poison +their king; God grant that my dearest relations may prove to have been +no worse than those who ought to be my enemies," &c.--"Scourge" must +surely be the scourge of God. Navarre had said, "God will sure restore +you:" to which the king answers, "I have deserved a scourge" from God. +Before l. 10 a line or more referring to the massacre of the Protestants +must have dropped out. + +[395] Old ed. "Nauarre." + +[396] Old ed. "seeme." + +[397] Pampeluna. + +[398] Scene: a hall in the Louvre. + +[399] I should prefer to read:-- + + "Then may it please + Your majesty to give me leave to punish + Those that do [dare] profane this holy feast." + +[400] Old ed. "as." + +[401] Old ed. "lords." + +[402] Scene: a room in the Duke of Guise's house. + +[403] "The gallant of the Duchess was not Mugeroun (Maugiron), but +Saint-Mégrin, another of the King's 'Mignons.' See Anquetil.--_Hist. de +France_, t. v. 345, ed. 1817."-- _Dyce._ + +[404] Old ed. "wert." + +[405] "I must leave the location of this scene to the reader. I should +have marked it--La Rochelle, but that the Messenger presently informs +the King that 'a mighty army comes _from France_.'"--_Dyce._ + +[406] Hinder. + +[407] Scene: an apartment in the Louvre. + +[408] Old ed. "mor du." + +[409] Old ed. "make." + +[410] Scene: near Coutras. + +[411] Scene: outside the Louvre.--In his _Hist. of Eng. Dram. Poetry_, +iii. 134 (old ed.), Collier printed a portion (given below) of this +scene from a fragment of a MS. copy. It will be seen that the printed +text was much mutilated. + + "_Enter a Souldier with a muskett._ + + _Souldier._ Now, sir, to you that dares make a duke a cuckolde, and use +a counterfeyt key to his privye chamber: though you take out none but +your owne treasure, yett you put in that displeases him, and fill up his +rome that he shold occupye. Herein, sir, you forestalle the markett, and +sett up your standinge where you shold not. But you will saye you leave +him rome enoghe besides: that's no answere; he's to have the choyce of +his owne freeland; yf it be not too free, there's the questione. Nowe, +for where he is your landlorde, you take upon you to be his, and will +needs enter by defaulte: what though you were once in possession, yett +comminge upon you once unawares, he frayde you out againe; therefore +your entrye is mere intrusione: this is against the law, sir: and though +I come not to keepe possessione (as I wolde I might!), yet I come to +keepe you out, sir. + + _Enter_ MINION. + +You are wellcome, sir: have at you! [_He kills him._ + + _Minion._ Trayterouse Guise, ah, thou hast morthered me! + + _Enter_ GUISE. + + _Guise._ Hold the[e], tall soldier! take the[e] this, and flye. + [Exit Soldier_. +Thus fall, imperfett exhalatione, Which our great sonn of +France cold not effecte; A fyery meteor in the fermament: Lye there, the +kinge's delyght and Guise's scorne! Revenge it, Henry, yf thou list or +darst: I did it onely in dispight of thee. Fondlie hast thou incenste +the Guise's sowle, That of it selfe was hote enough to worke Thy just +degestione with extreamest shame. The armye I have gatherd now shall +ayme, More at thie end then exterpatione; And when thou thinkst I have +forgotten this, And that thou most reposest in my faythe, Than will I +wake thee from thy folishe dreame, And lett thee see thie selfe my +prysoner. + [_Exeunt._" + +[412] "Mugeroun (Maugiron) fell in a duel: Anquetil, _Hist. de France_, +t. v. 344, ed. 1817: but Saint-Mégrin, the gallant of the Duchess of +Guise, _was_ assassinated. 'Ils dressèrentu ne embuscade à la porte du +Louvre. Comme Saint-Mégrin, en sortoit la nuit, des assassins apostés se +jetèrent sur lui, et l'étendirent sur le pavé, percé de trente-cinq +coups. Il vécut cependant jusqu au lendemain.' Anquetil, _Ibid._ p. +347."--_Dyce._ + +[413] Pension, maintenance. + +[414] Collier's correction for the old copy's "sexious." + +[415] Quit, free. + +[416] It cannot be determined where this scene takes place. + +[417] Dyce reads "'A takes" (_i.e._ "He takes"); but the omission of a +personal pronoun, where the sense is plain, occurs not unfrequently. + +[418] Scene: a room in the royal palace at Blois. + +[419] Cf. _2 Tamburlaine_ iv. 3:--"Mounted his shining chariot" (for +"mounted _in_"). + +[420] Dyce conjectures that Guise must have seen himself in a mirror as +he uttered these words. + +[421] Set. + +[422] Order. + +[423] Scene: the interior of a prison at Blois. + +[424] Scene: a room in Dumaine's house, at Paris. + +[425] Old ed. "_His life_ and all," &c. + +[426] Scene: Saint-Cloud. + +[427] Old ed. "Lucrecia walles." + +[428] Old ed. "Jacobus." + +[429] Old ed. "their." + +[430] Dyce's correction for "_incense_ ... to kiss the _holy_ earth." He +compares _Edward II._ (I. 4, ll. 100, 101):-- + + "I'll fire thy crazed buildings, and _enforce_ + The papal towers to kiss the _lowly_ ground." + +[431] The bracketed words were inserted by Dyce. + +[432] Dyce's correction for the old copy's "for." + + + + + FOOTNOTES FOR: "THE TRAGEDY OF DIDO, QUEEN OF CARTHAGE" + +[433] Old ed. "aire." + +[434] "This expression is well illustrated by Titian's[?] picture (in +the National Gallery) of the rape of Ganymede.--In Shakespeare's _Love's +Labour's Lost_, act v. sc. 2, we have,-- + + 'A lady _wall'd-about_ with diamonds!'"--_Dyce._ + +[435] This speech is undoubtedly by Marlow, but it is curious that +Nashe, in _Summer's Last Will and Testament_ speaks of the amusement +caused among the gods by the sight of Vulcan's dancing:--"To make the +gods merry the celestial clown Vulcan tuned his polt foot to the +measures of Apollo's lute, and danced a limping galliard in Jove's +starry hall." (Hazlitt's _Dodsley_, viii. 91). In both passages there is +perhaps an allusion to the lines in the first book of the _Iliad_ +(599-600), describing how "unquenchable laughter rose among the blessed +gods when they saw Hephæstus limping through the hall." + +[436] Surprised. + +[437] The stars were the children of Astræus and Eos. See Hesiod, +_Theogony_, ll. 381-2. + +[438] These rhyming lines are suggestive of Nashe. + +[439] "Parce metu, Cytherea; manént immota tuorum + Fata tibi." Virg. _Æn._ i. 257-8. + +[440] "Hic jam ter centumt totos regnabitur annos + Gente sub Hectorea." Virg. _Æn._ i. 272-3. + +[441] "Donec regina sacerdos + Marte gravis geminam partu dabit Ilia prolem." + irg. _Æn._ i. 273. + +[442] Probably a misspelling of "eternise." + +[443] Business. + +[444] The scene shifts to a wood near the sea-shore. + +[445] Old ed. "Cimodoæ."--Cf. Virgil, _Æn._ i. 144. + +[446] Old ed. "thee." + +[447] "Vos et Scyllaeam rabiem penitusque sonantes + Accestis scopulos, vos et Cyclopia saxa + Experti: revocate animos, maestumque timorem Mittite." + --Virgil, _Æn._ i. 200-203. + +[448] Old ed. "cunning." + +[449] Cf. _Titus Andronicus_, iii. 2 (a great part of which I attribute +to Marlowe):-- + + "Thou _map of woe_ that thus dost talk in signs" (l. 12). + +[450] Old ed. "aire." + +[451] From this point to the end of the scene Marlowe follows Virgil +very closely.--Cf. Æn. i. 321-410. + +[452] Old ed. "Turen." + +[453] Greene (in _Orlando Furioso_) uses the same form:-- + + "Thou see'st that Mador and Angelica + Are still so secret in their private walks, + As that they trace the shady _lawnds._" + +[454] "Quid natum totiens, crudelis tu quoque, falsis + Ludis imaginibus." + Virg. _Æn_. i. 407-8. + +[455] Scene: Carthage. + +[456] Old ed. "Cloanthes." + +[457] For what follows cf. Virg. _Æn._ i. 524-78. + +[458] The expression "buckle with" occurs twice in _1 Henry VI._, and +once in _3 Henry VI._: nowhere in Shakespeare's undoubted plays. + +[459] Old ed. "Vausis." + +[460] Dyce proposes "all" for "shall." Retaining "shall" the sense is +"we would hope to reunite your kindness in such a way as shall," &c. + +[461] Scene: Juno's temple at Carthage. + +[462] Virgil represents the tale of Troy depicted on a fresco in Juno's +temple. + +[463] Perhaps a misprint for "tears." + +[464] Æneas is not shrouded in a cloud, as the reader (remembering +Virgil) might at first suppose. Ilioneus fails to recognise Æneas in his +mean apparel. + +[465] Old ed. "meanes." + +[466] We must suppose that the scene changes to Dido's palace. + +[467] Old ed. "viewd." + +[468] "An odd mistake on the part of the poet; similar to that which is +attributed to the Duke of Newcastle in Smollet's _Humphry Clinker_ (vol. +i. 236, ed. 1783), where his grace is made to talk about 'thirty +thousand French _marching_ from Acadia to Cape Breton.' (The following +passage of Sir J. Harington's _Orlando Furioso_ will hardly be thought +sufficient to vindicate our author from the imputation of a blunder in +geography: + + 'Now had they lost the sight of Holland shore, + And _marcht_ with gentle gale in comely ranke,' &c. + B. x. st. 16.)"--_Dyce_. + +The passage of Harington seems to amply vindicate Marlowe. + +[469] This epithet alone would show that the passage is Marlowe's.--Cf. +_Edward II._ v. i. l. 44, + + "Heaven turn it to a blaze of _quenchless fire_!" + +[470] We have had the expression "ring of pikes" in _2 Tamburlaine_, +iii. 2. l. 99. + +[471] Mr. Symonds has an excellent criticism on this passage in +_Shakespeare's Predecessors_, 664-5. He contrasts Virgil's reserve with +Marlowe's exaggeration; and remarks that "even Shakespeare, had he dealt +with Hector's as he did with Hamlet's father's ghost, would have sought +to intensify the terror of the apparition at the expense of artistic +beauty." + +[472] Armour. + +[473] Old ed. "wound." The emendation was suggested by Collier. +Shakespeare certainly glanced at this passage when he wrote:-- + + "Unequal match'd + Pyrrhus and Priam drives, in rage strikes wide; + But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword + The unnerved father falls." + +Very slight heightening was required to give a burlesque turn to this +speech of Æneas. + +[474] Old ed. "Fawne." + +[475] Old ed. "And after by that." + +[476] Cease speaking. + +[477] We must suppose that Venus had borne the sleeping Ascanius to +Cyprus.--Cf. Virg. _Æn_. i. 680-1:-- + + "Hunc ego sopitum somno super alta Cythera + Aut super Idalium sacrata sede recondam." + +[478] Sentinels. The form "centronel" (or "sentronel") occurs in the +_Tryal of Chevalry_ (1605), i. 3:--"Lieutenant, discharge Nod, and let +Cricket stand Sentronell till I come." + +[479] Old ed. "Citheida's." + +[480] Grandson (Lat. _nepos_). + +[481] Scene: a room in Dido's palace. + +[482] The same form of expression occurs in the _Jew of Malta_, iii. ll. +32, 33:-- + + "Upon which _altar I will offer up_ + My daily sacrifice of sighs and tears." + +[483] "_I.e._ (I suppose) twisted."--_Dyce_. + +[484] "The blank verse, falling in couplets, seems to cry aloud for +rhymes."--_Symonds_. + +[485] Ballast. + +[486] I have adopted Dyce's emendation. The old ed. gives "meanly." +(Collier suggested "newly.") + +[487] Dyce gives this line to Sergestus, arguing that the prefix _Æn._ +is "proved to be wrong by the next speech of Dido." But we may suppose +that Dido is there calling Æneas' attention to another set of pictures +on the opposite side of the stage. + +[488] Old ed. "Olympus." + +[489] Old ed. "how." + +[490] Old ed. "speak" (repeated from the line above). + +[491] Scene: a grove. + +[492] "Heir of Fury" is certainly a strange expression, but I dare not +adopt Cunningham's emendation, "heir of Troy." + +[493] Old ed. "face." + +[494] Old ed. "left out." + +[495] Old ed. "made."--The correction is _Dyce's_. + +[496] See vol. i. p. 35, note 4. + +[497] Ready. + +[498] A Virgilian passage. Cf. _Æn._ i. 26-8:-- + + "Manet alta mente repostum + Judicium, Paridis, spretæque injuria formæ, + Et genus invisum, et rapti Ganimedis honores." + +[499] Irresistible. + +[500] Old ed. "change." + +[501] Love. + +[502] Old ed. "these." + +[503] Scene: a wood near Carthage. + +[504] Old ed. "shrowdes." + +[505] A deer or other animal was said to "take _soil_" when it fled from +its pursuers to the water. Dyce quotes from Cotgrave:--"_Souil de +sanglier_. The soile of a wild Boare; the slough or mire wherein he hath +wallowed." + +[506] Far-fetched. There was a common proverb "_far-fet_ and dear-bought +is good for ladies."--Old ed. "_far fet to_ the sea." + +[507] Old ed. "for." + +[508] The father of Anchises. + +[509] Old ed. "descend" (which Dyce and Cunningham strangely retain). + +[510] Scene: before the cave. + +[511] The line is unrhythmical and corrupt. Qy. "That can _call forth +the winds_"? + +[512] Old ed. "Tiphous." + +[513] Still, hushed. + +[514] Old ed. "eares." + +[515] Scene: a room in Iarbas' house. + +[516] The epithet "gloomy," here and in l. _2_, contrasts oddly with +"_Father of gladness and all frolic thoughts_." + +[517] Elissa (Dido). + +[518] Scene: a room in Dido's palace. + +[519] Old ed. "the." + +[520] Cf. Faustus, scene xiv.--"And burnt the _topless_ towers of +Ilium." + +[521] Old ed. "beames,"--a mistake, as Dyce observed, for "reames" (a +common form of "realms)." + +[522] Old ed. "my." + +[523] "Coll" = cling round the neck. + +[524] Scene: a room in Dido's palace. + +[525] Old ed. "Circes." + +[526] It is related in the fifth book of the Iliad how Aphrodite +shrouded Æneas in a cloud when he was hard-pressed by Diomed.--Old ed. +"fleest." + +[527] Old ed. "Heavens." + +[528] Desire, order. + +[529] Old ed. "loues." + +[530] Cf. _Faustus_.-- + + "Sweet Helen, make me _immortal with a kiss_." + +[531] Intrigued. + +[532] Old ed. "he." + +[533] Float. + +[534] Lat. _lympha_ is the same word as _Nympha_. + +[535] Scene: the open country near Carthage. + +[536] The reader will be reminded of Juliet's Nurse. + +[537] Wencher. + +[538] Scene; a room in Dido's palace. + +[539] Plan. + +[540] Old ed. "honeys spoyles." + +[541] Old ed. "her." In the _Athenæum_ for 10th May 1884, Dr. Karl Elze +makes the plausible emendation, "And _scent_ our pleasant suburbs with +_perfumes_." + +[542] Rudder. Cf. 1 _Henry VI._ i. 1:-- + + "The king from Eltham I intend to send, + And sit at chiefest _stern_ of public weal." + +[543] At l. 50 the stage-direction was "Exit _Sergestus_ with Ascanius." + +[544] Plan. + +[545] Requite. + +[546] A word which it is not easy to supply has been omitted. Dyce's +"farewell [none]" and Cunninghan's "Let me go _is_ farewell" are equally +unsatisfactory. + +[547] Old ed. "chaunged." + +[548] Old ed. "my" + +[549] Cf. 1 _Tamburlaine_, v. 1. l. 21. + +[550] Virgil, _Æn._ iv. 317. + +[551] Old ed. "ad hæc." + +[552] Virgil, _Æn_. iv. 360. + +[553] Cf. Virgil, _Æn_. iv. 365-7:-- + + "Nec tibi diva parens, generis nec Dardanus auctor, + Perfide; sed duris genuit te cautibus horrens + Caucasus, Hycanæque admorunt ubera tigres." + +[554] Old ed. "abdurate." + +[555] Old ed. "keend." If "kenned" is the right reading, we must suppose +the meaning to be "too clearly perceived." + +[556] I have repeated "Anna" for the sake of the metre. Cf. l. 241. + +[557] Old ed. "Orions." + +[558] Dyce's correction "'em" seems unnecessary. + +[559] Dearest. Cf. _2 Henry VI._ iii. 1:-- + + "And with your best endeavours have stirred up + My _liefest_ liege to be mine enemy." + +[560] Old ed. "thy." + +[561] "Daughter" is nonsense. Should we read "Guardian to" (or "unto")? +Cf. Virg., _Æn._ iv. 484:-- + + "Hesperidum templi _custos_." + +[562] Here and in l. 298 Dyce needlessly reads "lies." + +[563] Virg., _Æn._ iv. 628. + +[564] The best editions of Virgil read "_ipsique nepotesque_." + +[565] Virg., _Æn_. iv. 660. + +[566] Preys. + +[567] Avail. + + [** Transcriber Note: + -- all occurrences of the [oe] ligature have been replaced + with simple "oe". + -- Greek text is surrounded by tildes, i.e. ~Greek text~ **] + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Christopher Marlowe, Vol. +2 (of 3), by Christopher Marlowe + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42724 *** |