Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 06 of 10

The souldier is in fury. Now I am glad
'Tis done before he comes. This way, for me,
The way of toile; for thee, the way of honor. [Exit.

Enter Drusus and Regulus with Souldiers.

Sould. Kill him, kill him, kill him.

Dru. What will ye do?

Reg. Good soldiers, honest soldiers.

Sould. Kill him, kill him, kill him.

Dru. Kill us first; we command too.

Reg. Valiant Soldiers,

Consider but whose life ye seek. O Drusus,
Bid him be gone, he dies else. Shall Rome say
(Ye most approved Souldiers) her dear children
Devoured the fathers of the fights? shall rage
And stubborn fury guide those swords to slaughter,
To slaughter of their own, to civil ruine?

Dru. O let 'em in: all's done, all's ended, Regulus,
Penyus has found his last eclipse. Come, Souldiers,
Come, and behold your miseries: come bravely,
Full of your mutinous and bloody angers,
And here bestow your darts. O only Romane,
O father of the Wars.

Reg. Why stand ye stupid?
Where be your killing furies? whose sword now
Shall first be sheath'd in Penyus? do ye weep?
Howl out, ye wretches, ye have cause: howl ever.
Who shall now lead ye fortunate? whose valor
Preserve ye to the glory of your Countrey?
Who shall march out before ye, coy'd and courted
By all the Mistrisses of War, care, counsel,
Quick-ey'd experience, and victory twin'd to him?
Who shall beget ye deeds beyond inheritance
To speak your names, and keep your honors living,
When children faill, and time that takes all with him,
Build houses for ye to oblivion?

Dru. O ye poor desperate fools: no more now, souldiers;
Go home, and hang your arms up; let rust rot 'em;
And humble your stern valors to soft prayers;
For ye have sunk the frame of all your virtues;
The sun that warm'd your bloods is set for ever:
I'll kiss thy honor'd cheek. Farewell, great Penyus,
Thou thunder-bolt, farewell. Take up the body:
To morrow morning to the Camp convey it.
There to receive due Ceremonies. That eye
That blinds himself with weeping, gets most glory.

[Exeunt with a dead march.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Swetonius, Junius, Decius, Demetrius, Curius, and Souldiers: Bonduca, two Daughters, and Nennius, above. Drum and Colours.

Swet. Bring up the Catapults and shake the wall,
We will not be [out-brav'd] thus.

Nen. Shake the earth,
Ye cannot shake our souls. Bring up your Rams,
And with their armed heads, make the Fort totter;
Ye do but rock us into death. [Exit Nennius.

Jun. See, Sir,
See the Icenian Queen in all her glory
From the strong battlements proudly appearing,
As if she meant to give us lashes.

Dec. Yeild, Queen.

Bond. I am unacquainted with that language, Roman.

Swet. Yield honour'd Lady, and expect our mercy, [Exit Decius.
We love thy nobleness.

Bond. I thank ye, ye say well;
But mercy and love are sins in Rome and hell.

Swet. Ye cannot scape our strength; ye must yield, Lady,
Ye must adore and fear the power of Rome.

[B]ond. If Rome be earthly, why should any knee
With bending adoration worship her?
She's vitious; and your partial selves confess,
Aspires the height of all impiety:
Therefore 'tis fitter I should reverence
The thatched houses where the Britains dwell
In careless mirth, where the blest houshold gods
See nought but chast and simple purity.
'Tis not high power that makes a place divine,
Nor that the men from gods derive their line.
But sacred thoughts in holy bosoms stor'd,
Make people noble, and the place ador'd.

Swet. Beat the wall deeper.

Bond. Beat it to the center,
We will not sink one thought.

Swet. I'll make ye.

Bond. No.

2. Dau. O mother, these are fearful hours: speak gently.

Enter Petillius.

To these fierce men, they will afford ye pitty.

Bond. Pitty? thou fearful girl; 'tis for those wretches
That misery makes tame. Wouldst thou live less?
Wast not thou born a Princess? Can my blood,
And thy brave fathers spirit, suffer in thee
So base a separation from thy self,
As mercy from these Tyrants? Thou lov'st lust sure,
And long'st to prostitute thy youth and beauty
To common slaves for bread. Say they had mercy;
The divel a relenting conscience:
The lives of Kings rest in their Diadems,
Which to their bodies lively souls do give,
And ceasing to be Kings, they cease to live.
Show such another fear, and ——
I'll fling thee to their fury.

Swet. He is dead then?

Petill. I think so certainly; yet all my means, Sir,
Even to the hazzard of my life—

Swet. No more:
We must not seem to mourn here.

Enter Decius.

Dec. There's a breach made,
Is it your will we charge, Sir?

Swet. Once more mercy,
Mercy to all that yield.

Bond. I scorn to answer:
Speak to him girl; and hear thy Sister.

1. Dau. General,
Hear me, and mark me well, and look upon me
Directly in my face, my womans face.
Whose only beauty is the hate it bears ye;
See with thy narrowest eyes, thy sharpest wishes,
Into my soul, and see what there inhabits;
See if one fear, one shadow of a terror,
One paleness dare appear but from my anger,
To lay hold on your mercies. No, ye fools,
Poor fortunes fools, we were not born for triumphs,
To follow your gay sports, and fill your slaves
With hoots and acclamations.

Petill. Brave behaviour.

1. Dau. The children of as great as Rome, as noble,
Our names before her, and our deeds her envy;
Must we guild ore your Conquest, make your State,
That is not fairly strong, but fortunate?
No, no, ye Romans, we have ways to scape ye,
To make ye poor again, indeed our prisoners,
And stick our triumphs full.

Petill. 's death, I shall love her.

1. Dau. To torture ye with suffering, like our slaves;
To make ye curse our patience, wish the world
Were lost again, to win us only, and esteem
The end of all ambitions.

Bond. Do ye wonder?
We'll make our monuments in spite of fortune,
In spight of all your Eagles wings: we'll work
A pitch above ye; and from our height we'll stoop
As fearless of your bloody soars; and fortunate,
As if we prey'd on heartless doves.

Swet. Strange stiffness.
Decius, go charge the breach. [Exit Decius.

Bond. Charge it home, Roman,
We shall deceive thee else. Where's Nennius?

Enter Nennius.

Nen. They have made a mighty breach.

Bond. Stick in thy body,
And make it good but half an hour.

Nen. I'll do it.

1. Dau. And then be sure to dye.

Nen. It shall go hard else.

Bond. Fare well with all my heart; we shall meet yonder,
Where few of these must come.

Nen. Gods take thee, Lady. [Exit Nennius.

Bond. Bring up the swords, and poison.

Enter one with Swords, and a great Cup.

2. Dau. O my fortune!

Bond. How, how, ye whore?

2. Dau. Good mother, nothing to offend ye.

Bond. Here, wench:
Behold us, Romans.

Swet. Mercy yet.

Bond. No talking:
Puff, there goes all your pitty. Come, short prayers,
And let's dispach the business: you begin,
Shrink not; I'll see ye do't.

2. Dau. O gentle mother,
O Romans, O my heart; I dare not.

Swet. Woman, woman,
Unnatural woman.

2. Dau. O perswade her, Romans:
Alass, I am young, and would live. Noble mother,
Can ye kill that ye gave life? are my years
Fit for destruction?

Swet. Yield, and be a Queen still,
A mother and a friend.

Bond. Ye talk: come, hold it,
And put it home.

1. Dau. Fie, sister, fie,
What would you live to be?

Bond. A whore still.

2. Dau. Mercy.

Swet. Hear her, thou wretched woman.

2. Dau. Mercy, mother:
O whither will you send me? I was once
Your darling, your delight.

Bond. O gods,
Fear in my family? do it, and nobly.

2. Dau. O do not frown then.

1. Daugh. Do it, worthy Sister:
'Tis nothing, 'tis a pleasure; we'll go with ye.

2. Daugh. O if I knew but whither.

1. Daugh. To the blessed,
Where we shall meet our Father.

Swet. Woman.

Bond. Talk not.

1. Daugh. Where nothing but true joy is.

Bond. That's a good wench, mine own sweet girl; put it close to thee.

2. Daugh. Oh comfort me still for heavens sake.

1. Daugh. Where eternal
Our youths are, and our beauties; where no Wars come,
Nor lustful slaves to ravish us.

2. Daugh. That steels me:
A long farewel to this world.

Bond. Good: I'll help thee.

1 Daugh. The next is mine.
Shew me a Roman Lady in all [y]our stories,
Dare do this for her honor: they are cowards,
Eat coals like compell'd Cats: your great Saint Lucrece
Dy'd not for honor; Tarquin topt her well,
And mad she could not hold him, bled.

Petil. By ——
[I] am in love: I would give an hundred pound now
But to lie with this womans behaviour. Oh the devil.

1 Daugh. Ye shall see me example, All your Rome,
If I were proud and lov'd ambition;
If I were lustful, all your ways of pleasure;
If I were greedy, all the wealth ye conquer—

Bond. Make haste.

1 Daugh. I will. Could not intice to live
But two short hours this frailty: would ye learn
How to die bravely Romans, to fling off
This case of flesh, lose all your cares for ever?
Live as we have done, well, and fear the gods,
Hunt Honor, and not Nations with your swords,
Keep your minds humble, your devotions high;
So shall ye learn the noblest part, to die. [Dies.

B[o]nd. I come, wench; to ye all Fates hangmen; you
That ease the aged destinies, and cut
The threds of Kingdoms, as they draw 'em: here,
Here's the draft would ask no less than Cæsar
To pledge it for the glories sake.

Cur. Great Lady.

Swet. Make up your own conditions.

Bond. So we will.

Swet. Stay.

Dem. Stay.

Swet. Be any thing.

Bond. A Saint, Swetonius,
When thou shalt fear, and die like a slave. Ye fools,
Ye should have ti'd up death first, when ye conquer'd,
Ye sweat for us in vain else: see him here,
He's ours still, and our friend; laughs at your pities;
And we command him with as easie reins
As do our enemies. I feel the poison.
Poor vanquish'd Romans, with what matchless tortures
Could I now rack ye! But I pittie ye,
Desiring to die quiet: nay, so much
I hate to prosecute my victory,
That I will give ye counsel e'r I die.
If you will keep your Laws and Empire whole,
Place in your Romans flesh, a Britain soul. [Dies.

Enter Decius.

Swet. Desperate and strange.

Dec. 'Tis won, Sir, and the Britains
All put to th' sword.

Swet. Give her fair Funeral;
She was truly noble, and a Queen.

Pet. —— Take it,
A Love-mange grown upon me? what, a spirit?

Jun. I am glad of this, I have found ye.

Petil. In my belly,
Oh how it tumbles!

Jun. Ye good gods, I thank ye. [Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Caratach upon a rock, and Hengo by him, sleeping.

Car. Thus we afflicted Britains climb for safeties,
And to avoid our dangers, seek destructions;
Thus we awake to sorrows. O thou Woman,
Thou agent for adversities, what curses
This day belong to thy improvidence!
To Britanie by thy means, what sad millions
Of Widows weeping eyes! The strong mans valour
Thou hast betraid to fury; the childs fortune
To fear and want of friends: whose pieties
Might wipe his mournings off, and build his sorrows
A house of rest by his blest Ancestors:
The Virgins thou hast rob'd of all their wishes,
Blasted their blowing hopes, turn'd their songs,
Their mirthful marriage-son[g]s to funerals,
The Land thou hast left a wilderness of wretches.
The boy begins to stir: thy safety made,
Would my soul were in Heaven.

Heng. O noble Uncle,
Look out: I dream'd we were betrai'd.

[A soft dead march within.

Car. No harm, boy;
'Tis but thy emptiness that breeds these fancies:
Thou shalt have meat anon.

Heng. A little, Uncle,
And I shall hold out bravely. What are those?
Look, Uncle, look, those multitudes that march there?
They come upon us stealing by.

Car. I see 'em;
And prethee be not fearful.

Heng. Now ye hate me,
Would I were dead.

Car. Thou know'st I love thee dearly.

Heng. Did I e'r shrink yet, Uncle? were I a man now;
I should be angry with ye.

Enter Drusus, Regulus, and Soldiers, with Penyus's Herse, Drums and Colours.

Car. My sweet chicken,
See, they have reach'd us, and as it seems they bear
Some soldiers body, by their solemn gestures,
And sad solemnities; it well appears too
To be of eminence. Most worthy Soldiers,
Let me intreat your knowledge to inform me
What noble Body that is which you bear
With such a sad and ceremonious grief,
As if ye meant to wooe the World and Nature
To be in love with death? Most honorable
Excellent Romans, by your antient valours,
As ye love Fame, resolve me.

Sold. 'Tis the Body
Of the great Captain Penyus, by himself
Made cold and spiritless.

Car. O stay, ye Romans,
By the Religion which you owe those gods
That lead ye on to Victories, by those glories
Which made even pride a virtue in ye.

Dru. Stay:
What's thy Will, Caratach?

Car. Set down the body,
The body of the noblest of all Romans,
As ye expect an offering at your Graves
From your friends sorrows, set it down awhile.
That with your griefs an enemy may mingle;
A noble enemy that loves a Soldier;
And lend a tear to virtue, even your foes,
Your wild foes, as you call'd us, are yet stor'd
With fair affections, our hearts fresh, our spirits,
Though sometime stubborn, yet when virtue dies,
Soft and relenting as a Virgins prayers,
Oh set it down.

Dru. Set down the body, so[l]diers.

Car. Thou hallowed relique, thou rich Diamond
Cut with thine own dust; thou for whose wide fame
The world appears too narrow, mans all thoughts,
Had they all tongues, too silent; thus I bow
To thy most honour'd ashes: though an enemy,
Yet friend to all thy worths: sleep peaceably;
Happiness crown thy soul, and in thy earth
Some Lawrel fix his seat, there grow, and flourish,
And make thy grave an everlasting triumph.
Farewell all glorious Wars, now thou art gone,
And honest Arms adieu: all noble battels
Maintain'd in thirst of honour, not of bloud,
Farewell for ever.

Heng. Was this Roman, Uncle,
So good a man?

Car. Thou never knew'st thy Father.

Heng. He dy'd before I was born.

Car. This worthy Roman
Was such another piece of endless honor,
Such a brave soul dwelt in him: their proportions
And faces were not much unlik, boy, excellent nature,
See how it works into his eyes, mine own boy.

Heng. The multitudes of these men, and their fortunes,
Could never make me fear yet: one mans goodness—

Car. O now thou pleasest me: weep still, my child,
As if thou saw'st me dead; with such a flux
Or flood of sorrow: still thou pleasest me.
And worthy soldiers, pray receive these pledges,
These hatchments of our griefs, and grace us so much
To place 'em on his Hearse. Now if ye please,
Bear off the noble burden; raise his pile
High as Olympus, make heaven to wonder
To see a star upon earth out-shining theirs.
And ever loved, ever living be
Thy honoured and most sacred memory.

Dru. Thou hast done honestly, good Caratach,
And when thou diest, a thousand virtuous Romans
Shall sing thy soul to heaven. Now march on, soldiers.

[Exeunt. A dead march.

Car. Now dry thine eyes, my boy.

Heng. Are they all gone?
I could have wept this hour yet.

Car. Come, take cheer,
And raise thy spirit, child: if but this day
Thou canst bear out thy faintness, the night coming
I'll fashion our escape.

Heng. Pray fear not me;
Indeed I am very hearty.

Car. Be so still;
His mischiefs lessen, that controuls his ill. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Petillius.

Pet. What do I ail, i'th' name of heaven I did but see her,
And see her die: she stinks by this time strongly,
Abominably stinks: she was a woman,
A thing I never car'd for: but to die so,
So confidently, bravely, strongly; Oh the devil,
I have the bots, by —— she scorn'd us strangely,
All we could do, or durst do; threatned us
With such a noble anger, and so governed
With such a fiery spirit ——; the plain bots;
A —— upon the bots, the love-bots: hang me,
Hang me even out o'th' way, directly hang me.
Oh penny pipers, and most painful penners
Of bountiful new Ballads, what a subject,
What a sweet subject for your silver sounds,
Is crept upon ye!

Enter Junius.

Jun. Here he is; have at him. [Sings.

She set the sword unto her Breast,
great pity it was to see,
That three drops of her Life-warm bloud,
run trickling down her knee.

Art thou there, bonny boy? and i'faith how dost thou?

Petil. Well, gramercie, how dost thou? h'as found me,
Sented me out: the shame the devil ow'd me.
H'as kept his day with. And what news, Junius?

Jun. It was an old tale ten thousand times told,
Of a young Lady was turned into mold,
Her life it was lovely, her death it was bold.

Pet. A cruel rogue, now h'as [drawn pursue on] me,
He hunts me like a devil. No more singing;
Thou hast got a cold: come, let's go drink some Sack, boy.

Jun. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Pet. Why dost thou laugh?
What Mares nest hast thou found?

Jun. Ha, ha, ha.
I cannot laugh alone: Decius, Demetrius,
Curius, oh my sides, Ha, ha, ha,
The strangest jest.

Petil. Prethee no more.

Jun. The admirablest fooling.

Pet. Thou art the prettiest fellow.

Jun. Sirs.

Pet. Why Junius;
Prethee away, sweet Junius.

Jun. Let me sing then.

Pet. Whoa, here's a stir now: sing a song o' six pence,
By —— (if) prethee; —— on't: Junius.

Jun. I must either sing; or laugh.

Pet. And what's your reason?

Jun. What's that to you?

Pet. And I must whistle.

Jun. Do so.
Oh, I hear 'em coming.

Pet. I have a little business.

Jun. Thou shall not go, believe it: what a Gentleman
Of thy sweet conversation?

Pet. Captain Junius,
Sweet Captain, let me go with all celerity;
Things are not always one: and do not question,
Nor jeer, nor gybe: none of your doleful Ditties,
Nor your sweet conversation, you will find then
I may be anger'd.

Jun. By no means, Petillius;
Anger a man that never knew passion?
'Tis most impossible: a noble Captain,
A wise [and] generous Gentleman?

Pet. Tom Puppie.
Leave this way to abuse me: I have found ye,
But for your mothers sake I will forgive ye.
Your subtil understanding may discover
(As you think) some trim toy to make you merry;
Some straw to tickle ye; but do not trust to't;
Y' are a young man, and may do well: be sober:
Carry your self discreetly.

Enter Decius, Demetrius, Curius.

Jun. Yes forsooth.

Dem. How does the brave Petillius?

Jun. Monstrous merry:
We two were talking what a kind of thing
I was when I was in love; what a strange monster
For little Boys and Girls to wonder at;
How like a fool I lookt.

Dec. So they do all,
Like great dull slavering fools.

Jun. Petillius saw too.

Pet. No more of this, 'tis scurvie, peace.

Jun. How nastily,
Indeed, how beastly all I did became me!
How I forgot to blow my nose! there he stands,
An honest and a wise man; if himself
(I dare avouch it boldly, for I know it)
Should find himself in love—

Petill. I am angry.

Jun. Surely his wise self would hang his beastly self,
His understanding-self so mawl his ass-self—

Dec. He's bound to do it; for he knows the follies,
The poverties, and baseness that belongs to't,
H'as read upon the reformations long.

Petill. He has so.

Jun. 'Tis true, and he must do't:
Nor is it fit indeed any such coward—

Petill. You'll leave prating.

Jun. Should dare come near the Regiments, especially
Those curious puppies (for believe there are such)
That only love behaviours: those are dog-whelps,
Dwindle away, because a Woman dies well;
Commit with passions only: fornicate
With the free spirit merely: you, Petillius,
For you have long observ'd the World.

Petill. Dost thou hear?
I'll beat thee damnably within these three hours:
Go pray; may be I'll kill thee. Farewel Jack-daws. [Exit.

Dec. What a strange thing he's grown!

Jun. I am glad he is so;
And stranger he shall be before I leave him.

Cur. Is't possible her mere death—

Jun. I observ'd him,
And found him taken, infinitely taken
With her bravery, I have follow'd him,
And seen him kiss his sword since, court his scabbard,
Call dying, dainty deer; her brave mind, Mistriss;
Casting a thousand ways, to give those forms,
That he might lie with 'em, and get old Armors:
He had got me o' th' hip once: it shall go hard, friends,
But he shall find his own coin.

Enter Macer.

Dec. How now Macer?
Is Judas yet come in? [Enter Judas.

Mac. Yes, and has lost
Most of his men too. Here he is.

Car. What news?

Jud. I have lodg'd him; rouze him he that dares.

Dem. Where, Judas?

Jud. On a steep rock i'th' woods, the boy too with him,
And there he swears he will keep his Christmas Gentlemen,
But he will come away with full conditions,
Bravely, and like a Britain: he paid part of us.
Yet I think we fought bravely: for mine own part,
I was four several times at half sword with him,
Twice stood his partizan: but the plain truth is,
He's a meer devil, and no man; i'th' end he swing'd us,
And swing'd us soundly too, he fights by Witchcraft:
Yet for all that I see him lodg'd.

Jun. Take more men,
And scout him round. Macer, march you along.
What victuals has he?

Jud. Not a piece of Bisket,
Not so much as will stop a tooth; nor Water,
More than they make themselves: they lie
Just like a brace of Bear-whelps, close, and crafty,
Sucking their fingers for their food.

Dec. Cut off then
All hope of that way: take sufficie[n]t forces.

Jun. But use no foul play, on your lives: that man
That does him mischief by deceit, I'll kill him.

Macer. He shall have fair play, he deserves it.

Jud. Hark ye.
What should I do there then? you are brave Captains,
Most valiant men; go up your selves; use virtue,
See what will come on't: pray the Gentleman
To come down, and be taken. Ye all know him,
I think ye have felt him too: there ye shall find him,
His sword by his side, plums of a pound weight by him
Will make your chops ake: you'll find it a more labour
To win him living, than climbing of a Crows-nest.

Dec. Away, and compass him; we shall come up
I am sure within these two hours. Watch him close.

Macer. He shall flee thorow the air, if he escape us.

[A sad noise within.

Jun. What's this loud lamentation?

Mac. The dead body
Of the great Penyus is new come to the Camp, Sir.

Dem. Dead!

Macer. By himself, they say.

Jun. I fear'd that fortune.

Cur. Peace guide him up to heaven.

Jun. Away good Macer. [Exeunt Macer and Judas.

Enter Swetonius, Drusus, Regulus, Petillius.

Swet. If thou be'st guilty,
Some sullen plague thou hat'st most light upon thee:
The Regiment return on Junius,
He well deserves it.

Petill. So.

Swet. Draw out three Companies,
Yours Decius, Junius, and thou Petillius,
And make up instantly to Caratach,
He's in the Wood before ye; we shall follow
After due ceremony done to the dead,
The noble dead: Come: let's go burn the Body.

[Exeunt all but Petillius.

Petill. The Regiment given from me; disgrac'd openly;
In love too with a trifle to abuse me?
A merry world, a fine world: serv'd seven years
To be an ass o' both sides, sweet Petillius,
You have brought your hogs to a fine market; you are wise, Sir,
Your honourable brain-pan full of crotchets,
An understanding Gentleman; your projects
Cast with assurance ever: wouldst not thou now
Be bang'd about the pate, Petillius
Answer to that sweet soldier; surely, surely,
I think ye would; pull'd by the nose, kick'd; hang thee,
Thou art the arrant'st Rascal: trust thy wisdom
With any thing of weight; the wind with feathers.
Out ye blind puppie; you command? you govern?
Dig for a groat a day, or serve a Swine-herd;
Too noble for thy nature too. I must up;
But what I shall do there, let time discover. [Exit.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Macer and Judas, with meat and a bottle.