Za darmo

A King, and No King

Tekst
Oznacz jako przeczytane
Czcionka:Mniejsze АаWiększe Aa

p. 230, l. 6. A gives this speech to Mardonius. l. 7. A omits] at first. l. 8. In A this stage-direction occurs after 'Queen' in the following line. l. 14. A and F] Maist. G] May'st. l. 17. F] them. l. 20. A—G] your Queene. l. 23. A—G Add] Finis.

A KING AND NO KING. VERSE AND PROSE VARIATIONS [1]

p. 152, ll. 8 and 9. A—D and G] 3 ll. dare, day, I. l. 27. A] 2 ll. of, thus. ll. 33—35. A] 3 ll. Earth, Prince, Acts.

p. 157, l. 20. A] 2 ll. king, away.

p. 159, ll. 3—8. A—D and G] 8 ll. praise, worthy, death, lies, there, though, dust, envy. ll. 11 and 12. A—D and G] 3 ll. windes, I, speake. ll. 29—38. A—D and G] 14 ll. lives, said, truth, bin, see, parts, world, farre, yeares, mee, thee, wilt, I, thus. l. 40 and p. 160, ll. 1—4. A—D and G] 6 ll. Take, which, love, I, mee, eare.

p. 160, ll. 6 and 7. A, B and G] 2 ll. Mardonius, Jewell.

p. 161, ll. 21 and 22. A—D and G] 3 ll. newes, not, Gobrias. ll. 27—33. A—D and G] 9 ll. farre, sinnes, teares, feele, brest, stand, eyes, world, me. ll. 37—39 and p. 162, ll. 1—7. A—D and G] 14 ll. know, died, life, pardon'd, fit, olde, thence, out, there, live, me, deathes, life, him.

p. 163, ll. 16—22. A, B, C and G] 9 ll. of (C = halfe), free, thine, prisoner, force, me, unwilling, Tigranes, there. D] 7 ll. halfe, free, thine, force, me, Tigranes, there.

p. 164, ll. 1 and 2. A—D and G] 2 ll. health, jealous. ll. 25—35 and p. 165, ll. 1 and 2. A—D and G] 16 ll. regard, prisoner, escape, prisoner, woman, me, say, her, Lord, grace, arme, womanhood, death, sonne, why, speake.

p. 165, ll. 14—17. A—D and G] 5 ll. Time, know, thinke, heart, urgd. ll. 35 and 36. A—D and G] 2 ll. it, believ'd. ll. 38 and 39. A—D and G] 3 ll. you, die, uncredited (D = should).

p. 166, ll. I and 2. A—D and G] 4 ll. Then, me, King, plots (D adds l. 3). ll. 5—8. A—D and G] 5 ll. me, content, power, me, done. ll. 19—23. A—and G] Prose. ll. 25 and 26. A] These, these.

p. 167, ll. 9 and 10. A] 2 ll. well, so. l. 19. A—D and G] 2 ll. readie, morrow. ll. 21—28. A] 10 ll. hereafter, office, discourse, how, victorie, doe, danger, long, while, beate. ll. 21—24. B—D and G] 4 ll. hereafter, office, discourse, victory. ll. 25—28. B—D and G] Prose.

p. 168, ll. 11 and 12. A—D and G] 2 ll. Bessus, nothing. ll. 39 and 40. A—D and G] 2 ll. kindnesses, name.

p. 169, ll. 2—5. A—D and G] 5 ll. letter, enough, you, me, me. ll. 25 and 26. A and G] 2 ll. Already, foolish. ll. 37—40 and p. 170, ll. 1—4. A—D and G] 12 ll. Lord, live, um, Just, um, mee, heare, way, care, you, enjoyes, worth.

p. 170, ll. 5—10. A—D and G] Prose. ll. 13—18. A—D and G] 8 ll. you, power, leave, like, him, humours, lesse, offer'd. ll. 27—29. A] 2 ll. pleasure, Madam.

p. 171, ll. 10—15. A—D and G] 9 ll. unreasonably, seeme, ill, ought, faire, good, prayer, me, you. ll. 31—40 and p. 172, ll. 1—6. A—D] 24 ll. weepe, words, sorrow, me, him, Thalestris, me, sweare, slay, thee, himselfe, me, yet, face, you, eares, eyes, him, hope, dead, him, fast, ceremony, him.

p. 172, ll. 15—21. A—D and G] 11 ll. not, desire, others, me (or not), wrong, birth, injure, hither, commanded, ready, servand.

p. 174, l. 20. A—D] 2 ll. king, now. ll. 23—29. A—D and G] 11 ll. full, subjects, love, height, you, me, warre, imagine, word, blouds, peace.

[Footnote 1: The prose printings of E and F have not been recorded.]

p. 175, ll. 4—6. A—D and G] 4 ll. man, home, hearts, deliverance. ll. 11—22. A—D and G] 17 ll. wrong, spectacle, people, me, deserved, you, dwels, man, compare, selfe, you, too, name, fall, loves, content, worke. ll. 35 and 36. A—D and G] 2 ll. Children, is.

p. 176, ll. 23—35. A—D and G] 14 ll. Sir, hands, know, her, home, stubbornnesse, like, her, Jewell, mad, sister, is, Land, another.

p. 177, ll. 1—10. A—D and G] 11 ll. Too, friends, know, loth, passe, constraint, so, speake, health, love, againe.

p. 178, ll. 16 and 17. A—D and G] 3 ll. die, returne, life. ll. 30—32. A—D and G] 4 ll. ill, kneele, gaine, you.

p. 179, ll. 21—25. A—D and G] 7 ll. earth, alas, command, me, short, sister brought.

p. 180, l. 31. A—D and G] 7 ll. Gobrias, meane.

p. 191, ll. 35 and 36. A—D and G] 2 ll. utterd, careleslie.

p. 192, ll. 9—12. E and F] 3 ll. And, love, thou. ll. 10—12. A—D and G] 3 ll. Advice, love, thou. ll. 16 and 17. A—D and G] 3 ll. This, caution, it (G Adds l. 18). ll. 20 and 21. A—D and G] 2 ll. it, it.

p. 194, ll. 5 and 6. A] 2 ll. cutlers, King. l. 22. A] 2 ll. will, whatsoever.

p. 195, ll. 21 and 22. A] 2 ll. in-, Monsters.

p. 196, l. 38, and p. 197, ll. 1—3. A] Prose.

p. 197, ll. 4 and 5. A] 3 ll. you, Spaconia, thus.

p. 199, ll. 9 and 10. B—D and G] 3 ll. Ladie, passe, King. ll. 12 and 13. A and G] 2 ll. from, remov'd.

p. 201, ll. 7 and 8. A] 2 ll. All, folly. l. 15. A] 2 ll. Sir, warrant. ll. 39 and 40.

p. 202, ll. 19—22. A] Prose.

p. 204, l. 6. A—D and G] 2 ll. false, letter. ll. 36—38. A] 2 ll. Truth, Prince.

p. 205, ll. 26 and 27. A—D and G] 3 ll. Another, distance, opinion.

p. 207, ll. 11—13. A—D and G] 3 ll. Toge-, man, brother. I. 24. A—D and G] 2 ll. Sir, since.

p. 209, ll. 31 and 32. A] 2 ll. me, brother.

p. 212, ll. ii and 12. A] 3 ll. Panthea, gaze, out. ll. 23 and 24. A] 2 ll. you, gone.

Act 5 is in verse in Quartos A, B, C and D, in prose in Quartos E and F from p. 214, I. 22. As the Second Folio also prints it in prose it has been decided to give here the verse of Quarto A (1619) in full.

Actus Quinti Scaena Prima.

Enter Mardonius, and Ligones.

Mar.

Sir, the King has seene your Commission, and beleeves it, and freely by this warrant gives you leave to visit Prince Tigranes your noble Master.

Lig.

I thanke his Grace, and kisse his hands.

 
Mar.
But is the maine of all your businesse
Ended in this?
 

Lig.

I have another, but a worse; I am asham'd, it is a businesse.—

Mar.

You serve a worthy person, and a stranger I am sure you are; you may imploy mee if you please, without your purse, such Officers should ever be their owne rewards.

Lig.

I am bound to your noblenesse.

 
Mar.
I may have neede of you, and then this curtesie,
If it be any, is not ill bestowed:
But may I civilly desire the rest?
I shall not be a hurter, if no helper.
 
 
Lig.
Sir, you shall know I have lost a foolish daughter,
And with her all my patience; pilferd away
By a meane Captaine of your Kings.
 
 
Mar.
Stay there Sir:
If he have reacht the noble worth of Captaine,
He may well claime a worthy gentlewoman,
Though shee were yours, and noble.
 
 
Lig.
I grant all that too: but this wretched fellow
Reaches no further then the emptie name,
That serves to feede him; were he valiant,
Or had but in him any noble nature,
That might hereafter promise him a good man;
My cares were something lighter, and my grave
A span yet from me.
 
 
Mar.
I confesse such fellowes
Be in all royall Campes, and have, and must be
To make the sinne of coward more detested
In the meane Souldier, that with such a foyle
Sets of much valour: By description
I should now guesse him to you. It was Bessus,
I dare almost with confidence pronounce it.
 
 
Lig.
Tis such a scurvy name as Bessus, and now I thinke tis hee.
 
 
Mar.
Captaine, doe you call him?
Beleeve me Sir, you have a miserie
Too mighty for your age: A pox upon him,
For that must be the end of all his service:
Your daughter was not mad Sir?
 
 
Lig.
No, would shee had beene,
The fault had had more credit: I would doe something.
 
 
Mar.
I would faine counsell you; but to what I know not:
Hee's so below a beating, that the women
Find him not worthy of their distaves; and
To hang him, were to cast away a rope,
Hee's such an ayrie thin unbodied coward,
That no revenge can catch him:
He tell you Sir, and tell you truth; this rascall
Feares neither God nor man, has beene so beaten:
Sufferance has made him wanscote; he has had
Since hee was first a slave, at least three hundred daggers
Set in his head, as little boyes doe new knives in hot meat;
Ther's not a rib in's bodie a my conscience,
That has not beene thrice broken with drie beating;
And now his sides looke like to wicker targets,
Everie way bended:
Children will shortly take him for a wall,
And set their stone-bowes in his forhead: is of so low a sence,
I cannot in a weeke imagine what should be done to him.
 
 
Lig.
Sure I have committed some great sinne,
That this strange fellow should be made my rod:
I would see him, but I shall have no patience:
 

Mar.

Tis no great matter if you have not, if a laming of him, or such a toy may doe you pleasure Sir, he has it for you, and Ile helpe you to him: tis no newes to him to have a leg broke, or a shoulder out, with being turnd ath' stones like a Tanzie: Draw not your sword, if you love it; for my conscience his head will breake it: we use him ith' warres like a Ramme to shake a wall withall; here comes the verie person of him, doe as you shall find your temper I must leave you: but if you doe not breake him like a bisket, you are much too blame Sir. Ex. Mardo. Enter Bessus and Sword-men.

 

Lig.

Is your name Bessus?

Bes.

Men call me Captaine Bessus.

Lig.

Then Captaine Bessus you are a ranke rascall, without more exordiums, a durty frozen slave; and with the favour of your friends here, I will beate you.

2.

Pray use your pleasure Sir, you seem to be a gentleman.

Lig.

Thus Captaine Bessus, thus; thus twinge your nose, thus kicke you, and thus tread you.

Bess.

I doe beseech you yeeld your cause Sir quickly.

Lig.

Indeed I should have told you that first.

Bess.

I take it so.

1.

Captaine, a should indeed, he is mistaken:

 
Lig.
Sir you shall have it quickly, and more beating,
You have stolne away a Lady Captaine Coward,
And such a one.
 
 
Bes.
Hold, I beseech you, hold Sir,
I never yet stole any living thing
That had a tooth about it.
 
 
Lig.
Sir I know you dare lie
With none but Summer Whores upon my life Sir.
 
 
Bes.
My meanes and manners never could attempt
Above a hedge or hey-cocke.
 
 
Lig.
Sirra that quits not me, where is this Ladie,
Doe that you doe not use to doe, tell truth,
Or by my hand Ile beat your Captaines braines out.
Wash um, and put um in againe, that will I.
 
 
Bes.
There was a Ladie Sir, I must confesse
Once in my charge: the Prince Tigranes gave her
To my guard for her safetie, how I usd her
She may her selfe report, shee's with the Prince now:
I did but waite upon her like a Groome,
Which she will testifie I am sure: If not,
My braines are at your service when you please Sir,
And glad I have um for you?
 
 
Lig.
This is most likely, Sir I aske your pardon,
And am sorrie I was so intemperate.
 
 
Bes.
Well, I can aske no more, you would thinke it strange
Now to have me beat you at first sight.
 
 
Lig.
Indeed I would but I know your goodnes can forget
Twentie beatings. You must forgive me.
 
 
Bes.
Yes, ther's my hand, goe where you will, I shall thinke
You a valiant fellow for all this.
 
 
Lig.
My daughter is a Whore,
I feele it now too sencible; yet I will see her,
Discharge my selfe of being Father to her,
And then backe to my Countrie, and there die;
Farewell Captaine.
 

Exit.

Bes.

Farewell Sir, farewell, commend me to the Gentlewoman I praia.

 
1.
How now Captaine, beare up man.
 
 
Bes.
Gentlemen ath' sword your hands once more, I have
Beene kickt againe, but the foolish fellow is penitent,
Has ask't me mercy, and my honor's safe.
 
 
2.
We knew that, or the foolish fellow had better a kick't
His Grandsire.
Confirme, confirme I pray.
 
 
1.
There be our hands againe.
 
 
2.
Now let him come, and say he was not sorry,
And he sleepes for it.
 
 
Bes.
Alas good ignorant old man, let him goe,
Let him goe, these courses will undoe him.
 

Exeunt.

Enter Ligones, and Bacurius.

Bac.

My Lord your authoritie is good, and I am glad it is so, for my consent would never hinder you from seeing your owne King. I am a Minister, but not a governour of this state; yonder is your King, Ile leave you.

Exit.

 
Lig.
There he is indeed, Enter Tig. and Spaco.
And with him my disloyall childe.
 
 
Tig.
I doe perceive my fault so much, that yet
Me thinkes thou shouldst not have forgiven me.
 
 
Lig.
Health to your Maiestie.
 
 
Tig.
What? good Ligones, welcome; what businesse brought thee hether?
 
 
Lig.
Severall Businesses.
My publique businesse will appeare by this:
I have a message to deliver, which
If it please you so to authorise, is
An embassage from the Armenian state,
Unto Arbaces for your libertie:
The offer's there set downe, please you to read it.
 
 
Tig.
There is no alteration happened
Since I came thence?
 
 
Lig.
None Sir, all is as it was.
 
 
Tig.
And all our friends are well.
 
 
Lig.
All verie well.
 
 
Spa.
Though I have done nothing but what was good,
I dare not see my Father: it was fault
Enough not to acquaint him with that good.
 
 
Lig.
Madam I should have scene you.
 
 
Spa.
O good Sir forgive me.
 
 
Lig.
Forgive you, why I am no kin to you, am I?
 
 
Spa.
Should it be measur'd by my meane deserts,
Indeed you are not.
 
 
Lig.
Thou couldst prate unhappily
Ere thou couldst goe, would thou couldst doe as well.
And how does your custome hold out here.
 
 
Spa.
Sir.
 
 
Lig.
Are you in private still, or how?
 
 
Spa.
What doe you meane?
 

Lig.

Doe you take money? are you come to sell sinne yet? perhaps I can helpe you to liberall Clients: or has not the King cast you off yet? O thou wild creature, whose best commendation is, that thou art a young Whore. I would thy Mother had liv'd to see this: or rather would I had dyed ere I had seene it: why did'st not make me acquainted when thou wert first resolv'd to be a Whore? I would have seene thy hot lust satisfied more privately. I would have kept a dancer, and a whole consort of Musitions in mine owne house, onely to fiddle thee. Spa. Sir I was never whore.

Lig.

If thou couldst not say so much for thy selfe thou shouldst be Carted.

 
Tig.
Ligones I have read it, and like it,
You shall deliver it.
 
 
Lig.
Well Sir I will: but I have private busines with you.
 
 
Tig.
Speake, what ist?
 
 
Lig.
How has my age deserv'd so ill of you,
That you can picke no strumpets in the Land,
But out of my breed.
 
 
Tig.
Strumpets good Ligones?
 
 
Lig.
Yes, and I wish to have you know, I scorne
To get a Whore for any Prince alive,
And yet scorne will not helpe me thinkes: My daughter
Might have beene spar'd, there were enough beside.
 
 
Tig.
May I not prosper, but Shee's innocent
As morning light for me, and I dare sweare
For all the world.
 
 
Lig.
Why is she with you then?
Can she waite on you better then your men,
Has she a gift in plucking off your stockings,
Can she make Cawdles well, or cut your Comes,
Why doe you keepe her with you? For your Queene
I know you doe contemne her, so should I
And every Subject else thinke much at it.
 
 
Tig.
Let um thinke much, but tis more firme then earth
Thou seest thy Queene there.
 
 
Lig.
Then have I made a faire hand, I cald her Whore,
If I shall speake now as her Father, I cannot chuse
But greatly rejoyce that she shall be a Queene: but if
I should speake to you as a Statesman shee were more fit
To be your Whore.
 
 
Tig.
Get you about your businesse to Arbaces,
Now you talke idlie.
 
 
Lig.
Yes Sir, I will goe.
And shall she be a Queene, she had more wit
Then her old Father when she ranne away:
Shall shee be a Queene, now by my troth tis fine,
Ile dance out of all measure at her wedding:
Shall I not Sir?
 
 
Tigr.
Yes marrie shalt thou.
 
 
Lig.
He make these witherd Kexes beare my bodie
Two houres together above ground.
 
 
Tigr.
Nay, goe, my businesse requires haste.
 
 
Lig.
Good God preserve you, you are an excellent King.
 
 
Spa.
Farewell good Father.
 
 
Lig.
Farewell sweete vertuous Daughter;
I never was so joyfull in my life,
That I remember: shall shee be a Queene?
Now I perceive a man may weepe for joy,
I had thought they had lied that said so.
 

Exit.

 
Tig.
Come my deare love.
 
 
Spa.
But you may see another
May alter that againe.
 
 
Tigr.
Urge it no more;
I have made up a new strong constancie,
Not to be shooke with eyes; I know I have
The passions of a man, but if I meete
With any subject that shall hold my eyes
More firmely then is fit; Ile thinke of thee,
and runne away from it: let that suffice.
 

Exeunt.

Enter Bacurius, and a servant.

 
Bac.
Three gentlemen without to speake with me?
 
 
Ser.
Yes Sir.
 
 
Bac.
Let them come in.
 
 
Ser.
They are enterd Sir already.
 

Enter Bessus, and Swordmen.

 
Bac.
Now fellowes, your busines, are these the Gentlemen.
 
 
Bess.
My Lord I have made bold to bring these Gentlemen my
Friends ath' sword along with me.
 
 
Bac.
I am afraid youle fight then.
 
 
Bes.
My good Lord I will not, your Lordship is mistaken,
Feare not Lord.
 
 
Bac.
Sir I am sorrie fort.
 
 
Bes.
I can aske no more in honor, Gentlemen you heare my Lord is sorrie.
 

Bac.

Not that I have beaten you, but beaten one that will be beaten: one whose dull bodie will require launcing: As surfeits doe the diet, spring and full. Now to your swordmen, what come they for good Captaine Stock-fish?

Bes.

It seemes your Lordship has forgot my name.

Bac.

No, nor your nature neither, though they are things fitter I confesse for anything, then my remembrance, or anie honestmans, what shall these billets doe, be pilde up in my Wood-yard?

Bes.

Your Lordship holds your mirth still, God continue it: but for these Gentlemen they come.

Bac.

To sweare you are a Coward, spare your Booke, I doe beleeve it.

Bes.

Your Lordship still drawes wide, they come to vouch under their valiant hands, I am no Coward.

Bac.

That would be a shew indeed worth seeing: sirra be wise and take money for this motion, travell with it, and where the name of Bessus has been knowne, or a good Coward stirring, twill yeeld more then a tilting. This will prove more beneficiall to you, if you be thriftie, then your Captaineship, and more naturall; Men of most valiant hands is this true?

 
2.
It is so most renowned,
Tis somewhat strange.
 

1.

Lord, it is strange, yet true; wee have examined from your Lordships foote there to this mans head, the nature of the beatings; and we doe find his honour is come off cleane, and sufficient: This as our swords shall helpe us.

Bac.

You are much bound to you bilbow-men, I am glad you are straight again Captaine: twere good you would thinke some way to gratifie them, they have undergone a labour for you Bessus, would have puzzled hercules, with all his valour.

 

2.

Your Lordship must understand we are no men ath' Law, that take pay for our opinions: it is sufficient wee have cleer'd our friend.

Bac.

Yet here is something due, which I as toucht in conscience will discharge Captaine; Ile pay this rent for you.

Bess.

Spare your selfe my good Lord; my brave friends aime at nothing but the vertue.

Bac.

Thats but a cold discharge Sir for their paines.

2.

O Lord, my good Lord.

Bac.

Be not so modest, I will give you something.

Bes.

They shall dine with your Lordship, that's sufficient.

Bac.

Something in hand the while; ye rogues, ye apple-squiers: doe you come hether with your botled valour, your windie frothe, to limit out my beatings.

1.

I doe beseech your Lordship.

2.

O good Lord.

Bac.

Sfoote, what a many of beaten slaves are here? get me a cudgell sirra, and a tough one.

2.

More of your foot, I doe beseech your Lordship.

Bac.

You shall, you shall dog, and your fellow beagle.

1.

A this side good my Lord.

Bac.

Off with your swords, for if you hurt my foote, Ile have you fleade you rascals.

1.

Mines off my Lord.

2.

I beseech your Lordship stay a little, my strap's tied to my codpiece point: Now when you please.

Bac.

Captaine, these are your valiant friends, you long for a little too?

Bess.

I am verie well, I humblie thanke your Lordship.

Bac.

Whats that in your pocket slave, my key you mungrell? thy buttocks cannot be so hard, out with't quicklie.

2.

Here tis Sir, a small piece of Artillerie, that a gentleman a deare friend of your Lordships sent me with to get it mended Sir; for it you marke, the nose is somewhat loose.

Bac.

A friend of mine you rascall, I was never wearier of doing nothing, then kicking these two foote-bals.

Ser.

Heres a good cudgell Sir.

Bac.

It comes too late; I am wearie, prethee doe thou beate um.

 
2.
My Lord this is foule play ifaith, to put a fresh man upon us;
Men, are but men.
 

Bac.

That jest shall save your bones, up with your rotten regiment, and be gone; I had rather thresh, then be bound to kicke these raskals, till they cride hold: Bessus you may put your hand to them now, and then you are quit. Farewell, as you like this, pray visit mee againe, twill keepe me in good breath.

2.

Has a divellish hard foote, I never felt the like.

1.

Nor I, and yet Ime sure I ha felt a hundred.

2.

If he kicke thus ith dog-daies, he will be drie founderd: what cure now Captaine, besides oyle of bayes?

Bess.

Why well enough I warrant you, you can goe.

2.

Yes, God be thanked; but I feele a shrewd ach, sure he has sprang my huckle bone.

1.

I ha lost a haunch.

Bess.

A little butter friend, a little butter; butter and parselie is a soveraigne matter: probatum est.

1.

Captaine, we must request your hands now to our honours.

Bess.

Yes marrie shall ye, and then let all the world come, we are valiant to our selves, and theres an end.

1.

Nay, then we must be valiant; O my ribbes.

2.

O my small guts, a plague upon these sharpe toe'd shooes, they are murderers.

Exeunt.

Enter Arbaces with his Sword drawne.

 
Arb.
It is resolv'd, I bore it whilst I could,
I can no more, Hell open all thy gates,
And I will thorough them; if they be shut,
Ile batter um, but I will find the place
Where the most damn'd have dwelling; ere I end,
Amongst them all they shall not have a sinne,
But I may call it mine: I must beginne
With murder of my friend, and so goe on
To an incestuous ravishing, and end
My life and sinnes with a forbidden blow
Upon my selfe.
 

Enter Mardonius.

 
Mardo.
What Tragedie is here?
That hand was never wont to draw a Sword,
But it cride dead to something:
 

Arb.

Mar. have you bid Gobrius come?

Mar.

How doe you Sir?

Arb.

Well, is he comming?

 
Mar.
Why Sir are you thus?
Why does your hand proclaime a lawlesse warre
Against your selfe?
 
 
Arb.
Thou answerest me one question with another,
Is Gobrius comming?
 
 
Mar.
Sir he is.
 
 
Arb.
Tis well.
 
 
Mar.
I can forbeare your questions then, be gone
Sir, I have markt.
 
 
Arb.
Marke lesse, it troubles you and me.
 
 
Mar.
You are more variable then you were.
 
 
Arb.
It may be so.
 
 
Mar.
To day no Hermit could be humblier
Then you were to us all.
 
 
Arb.
And what of this?
 
 
Mar.
And now you take new rage into your eies,
As you would looke us all out of the Land.
 
 
Arb.
I doe confesse it, will that satisfie,
I prethee get thee gone.
 
 
Mar.
Sir I will speake.
 
 
Arb.
Will ye?
 
 
Mar.
It is my dutie,
I feare you will kill your selfe: I am a subject,
And you shall doe me wrong in't: tis my cause,
And I may speake.
 
 
Arb.
Thou art not traind in sinne,
It seemes Mardonius: kill my selfe, by heaven
I will not doe it yet; and when I will,
Ile tell thee then: I shall be such a creature,
That thou wilt give me leave without a word.
There is a method in mans wickednesse,
It growes up by degrees; I am not come
So high as killing of my selfe, there are
A hundred thousand sinnes twixt me and it,
Which I must doe, I shall come toot at last;
But take my oath not now, be satisfied,
And get thee hence.
 
 
Mar.
I am sorrie tis so ill.
 
 
Arb.
Be sorrie then,
True sorrow is alone, grieve by thy selfe.
 
 
Mar.
I pray you let mee see your sword put up
Before I goe; Ile leave you then.
 
 
Arb.
Why so?
What follie is this in thee? is it not
As apt to mischiefe as it was before?
Can I not reach it thinkest thou? these are toyes
For children to be pleas'd with, and not men;
Now I am safe you thinke: I would the booke
Of Fate were here, my sword is not so sure,
But I should get it out, and mangle that
That all the destinies should quite forget
Their fix't decrees, and hast to make us new
Farre other Fortunes mine could not be worse,
Wilt thou now leave me?
 
 
Mar.
God put into your bosome temperate thoughts,
He leave you though I feare.
 

Exit.

 
Arb.
Goe, thou art honest,
Why should the hastie errors of my youth
Be so unpardonable, to draw a sinne
Helpelesse upon me?
 

Enter Gobrius.

 
Gob.
There is the King, now it is ripe.
 
 
Arb.
Draw neere thou guiltie man,
That are the author of the loathedst crime
Five ages have brought forth, and heare me speake
Curses incurable, and all the evils
Mans bodie or his spirit can receive
Be with thee.
 
 
Gob.
Why Sir doe you curse me thus?
 
 
Arb.
Why doe I curse thee, if there be a man
Subtill in curses, that exceedes the rest,
His worst wish on thee. Thou hast broke my hart.
 
 
Gob.
How Sir? Have I preserv'd you from a childe,
From all the arrowes, malice or ambition
Could shoot at you, and have I this for pay?
 
 
Arb.
Tis true thou didst preserve me, and in that
Wert crueller then hardned murderers
Of infants and their mothers; thou didst save me
Onely till thou hadst studdied out a way
How to destroy me cunningly thy selfe:
This was a curious way of torturing.
 
 
Gob.
What doe you meane?
 
 
Arb.
Thou knowst the evils thou hast done to me,
Dost thou remember all those witching letters
Thou sentst unto me to Armenia,
Fild with the praise of my beloved Sister,
Where thou extolst her beautie; what had I
To doe with that, what could her beautie be
To me, and thou didst write how well shee lov'd me,
Doest thou remember this: so that I doated
Something before I saw her.
 
 
Gob.
This is true.
 
 
Arb.
Is it, and I when I was returnd thou knowst
Thou didst pursue it, till thou woundst mee into
Such a strange, and unbeleev'd affection,
As good men cannot thinke on.
 
 
Gob.
This I grant, I thinke I was the cause.
 
 
Arb.
Wert thou? Nay more, I thinke thou meantst it.
 
 
Gob.
Sir I hate a lie.
As I love God and honestie, I did:
It was my meaning.
 
 
Arb.
Be thine owne sad Judge,
A further condemnation will not need:
Prepare thy selfe to die.
 
 
Gob.
Why Sir to die?
 
 
Arb.
Why wouldst thou live, was ever yet offender
So impudent, that had a thought of mercy
After confession of a crime like this?
Get out I cannot, where thou hurlst me in,
But I can take revenge, that's all the sweetnesse
Left for me.
 
 
Gob.
Now is the time, heare me but speake.
 
 
Arb.
No, yet I will be farre more mercifull
Then thou wert to me; thou didst steale into me,
And never gavest me warning: so much time
As I give thee now, had prevented thee
For ever. Notwithstanding all thy sinnes,
If thou hast hope, that there is yet a prayer
To save thee, turne, and speake it to your selfe.
 
 
Gob.
Sir, you shall know your sinnes before you doe um
If you kill me.
 
 
Arb.
I will not stay then.
 
 
Gob.
Know you kill your Father.
 
 
Arb.
How?
 
 
Gob.
You kill your Father.
 
 
Arb.
My Father? though I know it for a lie
Made out of feare to save thy stained life:
The verie reverence of the word comes crosse me,
And ties mine arme downe.
 
 
Gob.
I will tell you that shall heighten you againe, I am thy
Father, I charge thee heare me.
 
 
Arb.
If it should be so,
As tis most false, and that I should be found
A bastard issue, the dispised fruite
Of lawlesse lust, I should no more admire
All my wilde passions: but another truth
Shall be wrung from thee: If I could come by
The spirit of paine, it should be powr'd on thee,
Till thou allowest thy selfe more full of lies
Then he that teaches thee.
 

Enter Arane.

 
Arane.
Turne thee about,
I come to speake to thee thou wicked man,
Heare me thou Tyrant.
 
 
Arb.
I will turne to thee,
Heare me thou Strumpet: I have blotted out
The name of mother, as thou hast thy shame.
 
 
Ara.
My shame, thou hast lesse shame then anything:
Why dost thou keepe my daughter in a prison?
Why dost thou call her Sister, and doe this?
 
 
Arb.
Cease thou strange impudence, and answere quickly,
If thou contemn'st me, this will aske an answere,
And have it.
 
 
Ara.
Helpe me gentle Gobrius.
 
 
Arb.
Guilt dare not helpe guilt, though they grow together
In doing ill, yet at the punishment
They sever, and each flies the noyse of other,
Thinke not of helpe, answere.
 
 
Ara.
I will, to what?
 
 
Arb.
To such a thing as if it be a truth,
Thinke what a creature thou hast made thy selfe,
That didst not shame to doe, what I must blush
Onely to aske thee: tell me who I am,
Whose sonne I am, without all circumstance;
Be thou as hastie, as my Sword will be
If thou refusest.
 
 
Ara.
Why you are his sonne.
 
 
Arb.
His sonne?
Sweare, sweare, thou worse then woman damn'd.
 
 
Ara.
By all thats good you are.
 
 
Arb.
Then art thou all that ever was knowne bad. Now is
The cause of all my strange misfortunes come to light:
What reverence expects thou from a childe
To bring forth which thou hast offended Heaven,
Thy husband and the Land: Adulterous witch
I know now why thou wouldst have poyson'd me,
I was thy lust which thou wouldst have forgot:
Thou wicked mother of my sinnes, and me,
Shew me the way to the inheritance
I have by thee: which is a spacious world
Of impious acts, that I may soone possesse it:
Plagues rott thee, as thou liv'st, and such diseases
As use to pay lust, recompence thy deed.
 
 
Gob.
You doe not know why you curse thus.
 
 
Arb.
Too well:
You are a paire of Vipers, and behold
The Serpent you have got; there is no beast
But if he knew, it has a pedigree
As brave as mine, for they have more discents,
And I am every way as beastly got,
As farre without the compasse of a law,
As they.
 
 
Ara.
You spend your rage, and words in vaine,
And raile upon a guesse: heare us a little.
 
 
Arb.
No I will never heare, but talke away
My breath, and die.
 
 
Gob.
Why but you are no Bastard.
 
 
Arb.
Howe's that?
 
 
Ara.
Nor childe of mine.
 
 
Arb.
Still you goe on in wonders to me.
 
 
Gob.
Pray be more patient, I may bring comfort to you.
 
 
Arb.
I will kneele,
And heare with the obedience of a childe;
Good Father speake, I doe acknowledge you,
So you bring comfort.
 
 
Gob.
First know our last King your supposed Father
Was olde and feeble when he marryed her,
And almost all the Land as shee past hope
Of issue from him.
 
 
Arb.
Therefore shee tooke leave
To play the whoore, because the King was old:
Is this the comfort?
 
 
Ara.
What will you find out
To give me satisfaction, when you find
How you have injur'd me: let fire consume mee,
If ever I were whore.
 
 
Gob.
Forbeare these starts,
Or I will leave you wedded to despaire,
As you are now: if you can find a temper,
My breath shall be a pleasant westerne wind,
That cooles, and blastes not.
 
 
Arb.
Bring it out good Father,
He lie, artd listen here as reverentlie
As to an Angell: If I breathe too loude,
Tell me; for I would be as still as night.
 
 
Gob.
Our King I say was old, and this our Queene
Desired to bring an heire; but yet her husband
Shee thought was past it, and to be dishonest
I thinke shee would not; if shee would have beene,
The truth is, shee was watcht so narrowlie,
And had so slender opportunitie,
Shee hardly could have beene: But yet her cunning
Found out this way; shee fain'd her selfe with child,
And postes were sent in haste throughout the Land,
And God was humbly thankt in every Church,
That so had blest the Queen, and prayers were made
For her safe going, and deliverie:
Shee fain'd now to grow bigger, and perceiv'd
This hope of issue made her feard, and brought
A farre more large respect from everie man.
And saw her power increase, and was resolv'd,
Since shee believ'd shee could not have't indeede;
At least shee would be thought to have a child.
 
 
Arb.
Doe I not heare it well: nay, I will make
No noise at all; but pray you to the point,
Quicke as you can.
 
 
Gob.
Now when the time was full,
Shee should be brought abed; I had a sonne
Borne, which was you: This the Queene hearing of,
Mov'd me to let her have you, and such reasons
Shee shewed me, as shee knew would tie
My secresie: shee sware you should be King;
And to be short, I did deliver you
Unto her, and pretended you were dead;
And in mine owne house kept a Funerall,
And had an emptie coffin put in earth:
That night the Queene fain'd hastilie to labour,
And by a paire of women of her owne,
Which shee had charm'd, shee made the world believe
Shee was deliver'd of you: you grew up
As the Kings sonne, till you were six yeere olde;
Then did the King die, and did leave to me
Protection of the Realme; and contrarie
To his owne expectation, left this Queene
Truly with Childe indeed of the faire Princesse
Panthea: Then shee could have torne her heire,
And did alone to me yet durst not speake
In publike; for shee knew shee should be found
A Traytor, and her talke would have beene thought
Madnesse or any thing rather then truth:
This was the onely cause why shee did seeke
To poyson you, and I to keepe you safe:
And this the reason why I sought to kindle
Some sparke of love in you to faire Panthea,
That shee might get part of her right agen.
 
 
Arb.
And have you made an end now, is this all?
If not, I will be still till I am aged,
Till all my heires are silver.
 
 
Gob.
This is all.
 
 
Arb.
And is it true say you Maddam?
 
 
Ara.
Yes, God knowes it is most true.
 
 
Arb.
Panthea then is not my Sister.
 
 
Gob.
No.
 
 
Arb.
But can you prove this?
 
 
[Gob.]
If you will give consent: else who dare goe about it.
 
 
Arb.
Give consent?
Why I will have them all that know it rackt
To get this from um: All that waites without
Come in, what ere you be come in, and be
Partakers of my Joy: O you are welcome.
 

Ent. Mar: Bessus, and others.