Beaumont & Fletchers Works (2 of 10) – the Humourous Lieutenant
TekstSCENA VI
Enter Seleucus, Lysimachus, Ptolomie, Souldiers.
Sel. Let no man fear to dye: we love to sleep all,
And death is but the sounder sleep; all ages,
And all hours call us; 'tis so common, easie,
That little Children tread those paths before us;
We are not sick, nor our souls prest with sorrows,
Nor go we out like tedious tales, forgotten;
High, high we come, and hearty to our Funerals,
And as the Sun that sets, in bloud let's fall.
Lysi. 'Tis true, they have us fast, we cannot scape 'em
Nor keeps the brow of fortune one smile for us,
Dishonourable ends we can scape though,
And (worse than those Captivities) we can die,
And dying nobly, though we leave behind us
These clods of flesh, that are too massie burthens,
Our living souls flie crown'd with living conquests.
Ptol. They have begun, fight bravely, and fall bravely;
And may that man that seeks to save his life now
By price, or promise, or by fear falls from us,
Never again be blest with name of Souldier.
Enter a Souldier.
Sel. How now? who charged first? I seek a brave hand To set me off in death.
Soul. We are not charg'd, Sir, The Prince lies still.
Sel. How comes this Larum up then?
Soul. There is one desperate fellow, with the Devil in him
(He never durst do this else) has broke into us,
And here he bangs ye two or three before him,
There five or six; ventures upon whole Companies.
Ptol. And is not seconded?
Soul. Not a man follows.
Sel. Nor cut i' pieces?
Soul. Their wonder yet has staid 'em.
Sel. Let's in, and see this miracle?
Ptol. I admire it. [Ex.
Enter Leontius, and Gentlemen.
Leon. Fetch him off, fetch him off; I am sure he's clouted; Did I hot tell you how 'twould take?
1 Gent. 'Tis admirable.
Enter Lieutenant with Colours in his hand, pursuing 3 or 4 Souldiers.
Lie. Follow that blow, my friend, there's at your coxcombs, I fight to save me from the Surgions miseries.
Leo. How the Knave curries 'em?
Lieu. You cannot Rogues,
Till you have my Diseases, flie my fury,
Ye Bread and Butter Rogues, do ye run from me?
And my side would give me leave, I would so hunt ye,
Ye Porridg gutted Slaves, ye Veal broth-Boobies.
Enter Demetrius, and Physicians, and Gentlemen.
Leo. Enough, enough Lieutenant, thou hast done bravely.
Dem. Mirrour of man.
Lieu. There's a Flag for ye, Sir, I took it out o'th' shop, and never paid for't, I'le to 'em again, I am not come to th' text yet.
Dem. No more my Souldier: beshrew my heart he is hurt sore.
Leo. Hang him, he'l lick all th^se whole.
1 Phy. Now will we take him, And Cure him in a trice.
Dem. Be careful of him.
Lieu. Let me live but two years,
And do what ye will with me;
I never had but two hours yet of happiness;
Pray ye give me nothing to provoke my valour,
For I am ev'n as weary of this fighting—
2 Phy. Ye shall have nothing; come to the Princes Tent And there the Surgions presently shall search ye, Then to your rest.
Lieu. A little handsome Litter To lay me in, and I shall sleep.
Leo. Look to him.
Dem. I do believe a Horse begot this fellow, He never knew his strength yet; they are our own.
Leo. I think so, I am cozen'd else; I would but see now A way to fetch these off, and save their honours.
Dem. Only their lives.
Leo. Pray ye take no way of peace now, Unless it be with infinite advantage.
Dem. I shall be rul'd;
Let the Battels now move forward,
Our self will give the signal: Enter Trumpet and Herald.
Now Herald, what's your message?
Her. From my Masters, This honourable courtesie, a Parley For half an hour, no more, Sir.
Dem. Let 'em come on, They have my Princely word.
Enter Seleucus, Lysimacus, Ptolomie, Attendants, Souldiers.
Her. They are here to attend ye.
Dem. Now Princes, your demands?
Sel. Peace, if it may be Without the too much tainture of our honour: Peace, and we'l buy it too.
Dem. At what price?
Lysi. Tribute.
Ptol. At all the charge of this War.
Leo. That will not do.
Sel. Leontius, you and I have serv'd together,
And run through many a Fortune with our swords,
Brothers in Wounds and Health; one meat has fed us,
One Tent a thousand times from cold night cover'd us:
Our loves have been but one; and had we died then,
One Monument had held our names, and actions:
Why do you set upon your friends such prices?
And sacrifice to giddy chance such Trophies?
Have we forgot to dye? or are our vertues
Less in afflictions constant, than our fortunes?
Ye are deceiv'd old Souldier.
Leo. I know your worths,
And thus low bow in reverence to your vertues:
Were these my Wars, or led my power in chief here,
I knew then how to meet your memories:
They are my Kings imployments; this man fights now,
To whom I ow all duty, faith, and service;
This man that fled before ye; call back that,
That bloudy day again, call that disgrace home,
And then an easie Peace may sheath our Swords up.
I am not greedy of your lives and fortunes,
Nor do I gape ungratefully to swallow ye.
Honour, the spur of all illustrious natures,
That made you famous Souldiers, and next Kings,
And not ambitious envy strikes me forward.
Will ye unarm, and yield your selves his prisoners?
Sel. We never knew what that sound meant: no Gyves Shall ever bind this body, but embraces; Nor weight of sorrow here, till Earth fall on me.
Leo. Expect our charge then.
Lysi. 'Tis the nobler courtesie: And so we leave the hand of Heaven to bless us.
Dem. Stay, have you any hope?
Sel. We have none left us, But that one comfort of our deaths together; Give us but room to fight.
Leo. Win it, and wear it.
Ptol. Call from the hills those Companies hang o're us, Like bursting Clouds; and then break in, and take us.
Dem. Find such a Souldier will forsake advantage,
And we'll draw off to shew I dare be noble,
And hang a light out to ye in this darkness,
The light of peace; give up those Cities, Forts,
And all those Frontier Countries to our uses.
Sel. Is this the Peace? Traitors to those that feed us, Our Gods and people? give our Countries from us?
Lysi. Begin the Knell, it sounds a great deal sweeter.
Ptol. Let loose your servant, death.
Sel. Fall fate upon us, Our memories shall never stink behind us.
Dem. Seleucus, great Seleucus.
Sol. The Prince calls, Sir.
Dem. Thou stock of nobleness, and courtesie, Thou Father of the War—
Leo. What means the Prince now?
Dem. Give me my Standard here.
Lysi. His anger's melted.
Dem. You Gentlemen that were his prisoners,
And felt the bounty of that noble nature,
Lay all your hands, and bear these Colours to him,
The Standard of the Kingdom; take it Souldier.
Ptol. What will this mean?
Dem. Thou hast won it, bear it off, And draw thy men home whilest we wait upon thee.
Sel. You shall have all our Countries.
Lysi. Ptol. All by Heaven, Sir.
Dem. I will not have a stone, a bush, a bramble,
No, in the way of courtesie, I'le start ye;
Draw off, and make a lane through all the Army,
That these that have subdu'd us, may march through us.
Sel. Sir, do not make me surfeit with such goodness, I'le bear your Standard for ye; follow ye.
Dem. I swear it shall be so, march through me fairly, And thine be this days honour, great Seleucus.
Ptol. Mirrour of noble minds.
Dem. Nay then ye hate me.
Leo. I cannot speak now: [Ex. with Drums, and Shouts.
Well, go thy wayes; at a sure piece of bravery
Thou art the best, these men are won by th' necks now:
I'le send a Post away.
ACTUS QUARTUS. SCENA PRIMA
Enter Antigonus, and Menippus.
Ant. No aptness in her?
Men. Not an immodest motion, And yet when she is courted, Makes as wild witty answers.
Ant. This more fires me, I must not have her thus.
Men. We cannot alter her.
Ant. Have ye put the youths upon her?
Men. All that know any thing,
And have been studied how to catch a beauty,
But like so many whelps about an Elephant—
The Prince is coming home, Sir.
Ant. I hear that too, But that's no matter; am I alter'd well?
Men. Not to be known I think, Sir.
Ant. I must see her.
Enter 2 Gentlemen, or Lords.
1 Gent. I offered all I had, all I could think of, I tri'd her through all the points o'th' compass, I think.
2 Gent. She studies to undo the Court, to plant here
The Enemy to our Age, Chastity;
She is the first, that e're bauk'd a close Arbour,
And the sweet contents within: She hates curl'd heads too,
And setting up of beards she swears is Idolatry.
1 Gent. I never knew so fair a face so froze; Yet she would make one think—
2 Gent. True by her carriage,
For she's as wanton as a Kid to th' out side,
As full of Mocks and Taunts: I kiss'd her hand too,
Walkt with her half an hour.
1 Gent. She heard me sing,
And sung her self too; she sings admirably;
But still when any hope was, as 'tis her trick
To minister enough of those, then presently
With some new flam or other, nothing to the matter,
And such a frown, as would sink all before her,
She takes her Chamber; come, we shall not be the last fools.
2 Gent. Not by a hundred I hope; 'tis a strange wench.
Ant. This screws me up still higher.
Enter Celia, and Ladies behind her.
Men. Here she comes, Sir.
Ant. Then be you gone; and take the Women with ye, And lay those Jewels in her way.
Cel. If I stay longer
I shall number as many Lovers as Lais did;
How they flock after me! upon my Conscience,
I have had a dozen Horses given me this morning,
I'le ev'n set up a Troop, and turn She-souldier,
A good discreet wench now, that were not hidebound
Might raise a fine estate here, and suddenly:
For these warm things will give their Souls—I can go no where
Without a world of offerings to my Excellence:
I am a Queen, a Goddesse, I know not what—
And no constellation in all Heaven, but I out-shine it;
And they have found out now I have no eyes
Of mortal lights, but certain influences,
Strange vertuous lightnings, humane nature starts at,
And I can kill my twenty in a morning,
With as much ease now—
Ha! what are these? new projects?
Where are my honourable Ladies? are you out too?
Nay then I must buy the stock, send me good Carding:
I hope the Princes hands be not in this sport;
I have not seen him yet, cannot hear from him,
And that troubles me: all these were recreations
Had I but his sweet company to laugh with me:
What fellow's that? another Apparition?
This is the lovingst Age: I should know that face,
Sure I have seen't before, not long since neither.
Ant. She sees me now: O Heaven, a most rare creature!
Cel. Yes, 'tis the same: I will take no notice of ye,
But if I do not fit ye, let me fry for't;
Is all this Cackling for your egg? they are fair ones,
Excellent rich no doubt too; and may stumble
A good staid mind, but I can go thus by 'em;
My honest friend; do you set off these Jewels?
Ant. Set 'em off, Lady?
Cel. I mean, sell 'em here, Sir?
Ant. She's very quick; for sale they are not meant sure.
Cel. For sanctity I think much less: good even Sir.
Ant. Nay noble Lady, stay: 'tis you must wear 'em: Never look strange, they are worthy your best beauty.
Cel. Did you speak to me?
Ant. To you or to none living: To you they are sent, to you they are sacrificed.
Cel. I'le never look a Horse i'th' mouth that's given: I thank ye, Sir: I'le send one to reward ye.
Ant. Do you never ask who sent 'em?
Cel. Never I:
Nor never care, if it be an honest end,
That end's the full reward, and thanks but slubber it;
If it be ill, I will not urge the acquaintance.
Ant. This has a soul indeed: pray let me tell ye—
Cel. I care not if ye do, so you do it hansomly, And not stand picking of your words.
Ant. The King sent 'em.
Cel. Away, away, thou art some foolish fellow,
And now I think thou hast stole 'em too: the King sent 'em?
Alas good man, wouldst thou make me believe
He has nothing to do with things of these worths,
But wantonly to fling 'em? he's an old man,
A good old man, they say too: I dare swear
Full many a year ago he left these gambols:
Here, take your trinkets.
Ant. Sure I do not lye, Lady.
Cel. I know thou lyest extreamly, damnably: Thou hast a lying face.
Ant. I was never thus ratled.
Cel. But say I should believe: why are these sent me? And why art thou the Messenger? who art thou?
Ant. Lady, look on 'em wisely, and then consider
Who can send such as these, but a King only?
And, to what beauty can they be oblations,
But only yours? For me that am the carrier,
'Tis only fit you know I am his servant,
And have fulfil'd his will.
Cel. You are short and pithy; What must my beauty do for these?
Ant. Sweet Lady,
You cannot be so hard of understanding,
When a King's favour shines upon ye gloriously,
And speaks his love in these—
Cel. O then love's the matter;
Sir-reverence love; now I begin to feel ye:
And I should be the Kings Whore, a brave title;
And go as glorious as the Sun, O brave still:
The chief Commandress of his Concubines,
Hurried from place to place to meet his pleasures.
Ant. A devilish subtil wench, but a rare spirit. (dry,
Cel. And when the good old spunge had suckt my youth
And left some of his Royal aches in my bones:
When time shall tell me I have plough'd my life up,
And cast long furrows in my face to sink me.
Ant. You must not think so, Lady.
Cel. Then can these, Sir,
These precious things, the price of youth and beauty;
This shop here of sin-offerings set me off again?
Can it restore me chaste, young, innocent?
Purge me to what I was? add to my memory
An honest and a noble fame? The Kings device;
The sin's as universal as the Sun is,
And lights an everlasting Torch to shame me.
Ant. Do you hold so sleight account of a great Kings favour, That all knees bow to purchase?
Cel. Prethee peace: If thou knewst how ill favouredly thy tale becomes thee, And what ill root it takes—
Ant. You will be wiser.
Cel. Could the King find no shape to shift his pander into, But reverend Age? and one so like himself too?
Ant. She has found me out.
Cel. Cozen the world with gravity? Prethee resolve me one thing, do's the King love thee?
Ant. I think he do's.
Cel. It seems so by thy Office: He loves thy use, and when that's ended, hates thee: Thou seemest to me a Souldier.
Ant. Yes, I am one.
Cel. And hast fought for thy Country?
Ant. Many a time.
Cel. May be, commanded too?
Ant. I have done, Lady.
Cel. O wretched man, below the state of pity!
Canst thou forget thou wert begot in honour?
A free Companion for a King? a Souldier?
Whose Nobleness dare feel no want, but Enemies?
Canst thou forget this, and decline so wretchedly,
To eat the Bread of Bawdry, of base Bawdry?
Feed on the scum of Sin? fling thy Sword from thee?
Dishonour to the noble name that nursed thee?
Go, beg diseases: let them be thy Armours,
Thy fights, the flames of Lust, and their foul issues.
Ant. Why then I am a King, and mine own Speaker.
Cel. And I as free as you, mine own Disposer:
There, take your Jewels; let them give them lustres
That have dark Lives and Souls; wear 'em your self, Sir,
You'l seem a Devil else.
Ant. I command ye stay.
Cel. Be just, I am commanded.
Ant. I will not wrong ye.
Cel. Then thus low falls my duty.
Ant. Can ye love me? Say I, and all I have—
Cel. I cannot love ye;
Without the breach of faith I cannot hear ye;
Ye hang upon my love, like frosts on Lilies:
I can dye, but I cannot love: you are answer'd.
Ant. I must find apter means, I love her truly.
SCENA II
Enter Demetr. Leon. Lieu. Gent. Sould. and Host.
Dem. Hither do you say she is come?
Host. Yes Sir, I am sure on't:
For whilest I waited upon ye, putting my Wife in trust,
I know not by what means, but the King found her,
And hither she was brought; how, or to what end—
Dem. My Father found her?
Host. So my Wife informs me.
Dem. Leontius, pray draw off the Souldiers, I would a while be private.
Leon. Fall off Gentlemen, The Prince would be alone. [Ex. Leo and Soul.
Dem. Is he so cunning? There is some trick in this, and you must know it, And be an agent too: which if it prove so—
Host. Pull me to pieces, Sir.
Dem. My Father found her? My Father brought her hither? went she willingly?
Host. My Wife sayes full of doubts.
Dem. I cannot blame her, No more: there's no trust, no faith in mankind.
Enter Antigonus, Menippus, Leontius, and Souldiers.
Ant. Keep her up close, he must not come to see her: You are welcome nobly now, welcome home Gentlemen; You have done a courteous service on the Enemy Has tyed his Faith for ever; you shall find it; Ye are not now in's debt Son: still your sad looks? Leontius, what's the matter?
Leo. Truth Sir, I know not. We have been merry since we went.
Lieu. I feel it.
Ant. Come, what's the matter now? do you want mony? Sure he has heard o'th' wench.
Dem. Is that a want, Sir? I would fain speak to your Grace.
Ant. You may do freely.
Dem. And not deserve your anger?
Ant. That ye may too.
Dem. There was a Gentlewoman, and sometimes my prisoner, Which I thought well of Sir: your Grace conceives me.
Ant. I do indeed, and with much grief conceive ye;
With full as much grief as your Mother bare you.
There was such a Woman: would I might as well say,
There was no such, Demetrius.
Dem. She was vertuous, And therefore not unfit my youth to love her: She was as fair—
Ant. Her beauty I'le proclaim too, To be as rich as ever raign'd in Woman; But how she made that good, the Devil knows.
Dem. She was—O Heaven!
Ant. The Hell to all thy glories, Swallow'd thy youth, made shipwrack of thine honour: She was a Devil.
Dem. Ye are my father, Sir.
Ant. And since ye take a pride to shew your follies, I'le muster 'em, and all the world shall view 'em.
Leo. What heat is this? the Kings eyes speak his anger.
Ant. Thou hast abus'd thy youth, drawn to thy fellowship Instead of Arts and Arms, a Womans kisses, The subtilties, and soft heats of a Harlot.
Dem. Good Sir, mistake her not.
Ant. A Witch, a Sorceress:
I tell thee but the truth; and hear Demetrius,
Which has so dealt upon thy bloud with charms,
Devilish and dark; so lockt up all thy vertues;
So pluckt thee back from what thou sprungst from, glorious.
Dem. O Heaven, that any tongue but his durst say this!
That any heart durst harbour it! Dread Father,
If for the innocent the gods allow us
To bend our knees—
Ant. Away, thou art bewitch'd still; Though she be dead, her power still lives upon thee.
Dem. Dead? O sacred Sir: dead did you say?
Ant. She is dead, fool.
Dem. It is not possible: be not so angry,
Say she is faln under your sad displeasure,
Or any thing but dead, say she is banished,
Invent a crime, and I'le believe it, Sir.
Ant. Dead by the Law: we found her Hell, and her,
I mean her Charms and Spells, for which she perish'd;
And she confest she drew thee to thy ruine,
And purpos'd it, purpos'd my Empires overthrow.
Dem. But is she dead? was there no pity Sir? If her youth err'd, was there no mercy shown her? Did ye look on her face, when ye condemn'd her?
Ant. I look'd into her heart, and there she was hideous.
Dem. Can she be dead? can vertue fall untimely?
Ant. She is dead, deservingly she died.
Dem. I have done then.
O matchless sweetness, whither art thou vanished?
O thou fair soul of all thy Sex, what Paradise
Hast thou inrich'd and blest? I am your son, Sir,
And to all you shall command stand most obedient,
Only a little time I must intreat you
To study to forget her; 'twill not be long, Sir,
Nor I long after it: art thou dead Celia,
Dead my poor wench? my joy, pluckt green with violence:
O fair sweet flower, farewel; Come, thou destroyer
Sorrow, thou melter of the soul, dwell with me;
Dwell with me solitary thoughts, tears, cryings,
Nothing that loves the day, love me, or seek me,
Nothing that loves his own life haunt about me:
And Love, I charge thee, never charm mine eyes more,
Nor ne're betray a beauty to my curses:
For I shall curse all now, hate all, forswear all,
And all the brood of fruitful nature vex at,
For she is gone that was all, and I nothing— [Ex. & Gent.
Ant. This opinion must be maintained.
Men. It shall be, Sir.
Ant. Let him go; I can at mine own pleasure
Draw him to th' right again: wait your instructions,
And see the souldier paid, Leontius:
Once more ye are welcome home all.
All. Health to your Majesty. [Ex. Antig. &c.
Leo. Thou wentest along the journey, how canst thou tell?
Host. I did, but I am sure 'tis so: had I staid behind, I think this had not proved.
Leo. A Wench the reason?
Lieu. Who's that talks of a Wench there?
Leo. All this discontent About a Wench?
Lieu. Where is this Wench, good Colonel?
Leo. Prithee hold thy Peace: who calls thee to counsel?
Lieu. Why, if there be a Wench—
Leo. 'Tis fit thou know her:
Enter 2 Gentlemen.
That I'le say for thee, and as fit thou art for her,
Let her be mewed or stopt: how is it Gentlemen?
1 Gent. He's wondrous discontent, he'l speak to no man.
2 Gent. H'as taken his Chamber close, admits no entrance; Tears in his eyes, and cryings out.
Host. 'Tis so, Sir, And now I wish myself half hang'd ere I went this journey.
Leo. What is this Woman?
Lieu. I.
Host. I cannot tell ye, But handsome as Heaven.
Lieu. She is not so high I hope, Sir.
Leo. Where is she?
Lieu. I, that would be known.
Leo. Why, Sirrah.
Host. I cannot show ye neither; The King has now dispos'd of her.
Leo. There lyes the matter: Will he admit none to come to comfort him?
1 Gent. Not any near, nor, let 'em knock their hearts out, Will never speak.
Lieu. 'Tis the best way if he have her; For look you, a man would be loth to be disturb'd in's pastime; 'Tis every good mans case.
Leo. 'Tis all thy living,
We must not suffer this, we dare not suffer it:
For when these tender souls meet deep afflictions,
They are not strong enough to struggle with 'em,
But drop away as Snow does, from a mountain,
And in the torrent of their own sighs sink themselves:
I will, and must speak to him.
Lieu. So must I too: He promised me a charge.
Leo. Of what? of Children Upon my Conscience, thou hast a double company, And all of thine own begetting already.
Lieu. That's all one,
I'le raise 'em to a Regiment, and then command 'em,
When they turn disobedient, unbeget 'em:
Knock 'em o'th' head, and put in new.
Leo. A rare way; But for all this, thou art not valiant enough To dare to see the Prince now?
Lieu. Do ye think he's angry?
1 Gent. Extreamly vext.
2 Gent. To the endangering of any man comes near him.
1 Gent. Yet, if thou couldst but win him out, What e're thy suit were, Believe it granted presently.
Leo. Yet thou must think though, That in the doing he may break upon ye, And—
Lieu. If he do not kill me.
Leo. There's the question.
Lieu. For half a dozen hurts.
Leo. Art thou so valiant?
Lieu. Not absolutely so neither: no it cannot be, I want my impostumes, and my things about me, Yet I'le make danger, Colonel.
Leo. 'Twill be rare sport, Howe're it take; give me thy hand; if thou dost this, I'le raise thee up a horse Troop, take my word for't.
Lieu. What may be done by humane man.
Leo. Let's go then.
1 Gent. Away before he cool: he will relapse else. [Ex.