Enter Quisana, and Panura.
How now! who are these? Oh my great Ladies followers,
Her Riddle-founders, and her Fortune-tellers.
Her readers of her Love-Lectures, her Inflamers:
These doors I must pass through, I hope they are wide.
Good day to your beauties, how they take it to 'em!
As if they were fair indeed.
Quisan. Good morrow to you, Sir.
Pyn. That's the old Hen, the brood-bird! how she busles!
How like an Inventory of Lechery she looks!
Many a good piece of iniquity
Has past her hands, I warrant her—I beseech you,
Is the fair Princess stirring?
Pan. Yes marry is she, Sir.
But somewhat private: you have a business with her?
Py. Yes forsooth have I, and a serious business.
Pan. May not we know?
Py. Yes, when you can keep counsel.
Pan. How prettily he looks! he's a soldier sure,
His rudeness sits so handsomly upon him.
Quisan. A good blunt Gentleman.
Py. Yes marry am I:
Yet for a push or two at sharp, and't please you—
Pan. My honest friend, you know not who you speak to:
This is the Princesses Aunt,
Py. I like her the better
And she were her Mother (Lady) or her Grandmother,
I am not so bashful, but I can buckle with her.
Pan. Of what size is your business?
Py[n]. Of the long sixteens,
And will make way I warrant ye.
Pan. How fine he talks!
Pyn. Nay in troth I talk but coursely, Lady,
But I hold it comfortable for the understanding:
How fain they wou'd draw me into ribaldry!
These wenches that live easily, live high,
[And l]ove these broad discourses, as they love possets;
These dry delights serve for preparatives.
Pan. Why do you look so on me?
Pyn. I am guessing
By the cast of your face, what the property of your place, should be,
For I presume you turn a key, sweet beauty,
And you another, gravity, under the Princess,
And by my —— I warrant ye good places,
Comly commodious Seats.
Quisan. Prethee let him talk still.
For me thinks he talks handsomely.
Py. And truly
As near as my understanding shall enable me
You look as if you kept my Ladies secrets:
Nay, do not laugh, for I mean honestly,
How these young things tattle, when they get a toy by th' end!
And how their hearts go pit-a-pat, and look for it!
Wou'd it not dance too, if it had a Fiddle?
Your gravity I guess, to take the Petitions,
And hear the lingring suits in love dispos'd,
Their sighs and sorrows in their proper place,
You keep the Ay-me Office.
Quisan. Prethee suffer him,
For as I live he's a pretty fellow;
I love to hear sometimes what men think of us:
And thus deliver'd freely, 'tis no malice:
Proceed good honest man.
Pin. I will, good Madam.
According to mens states and dignities,
Moneys and moveables, you rate their dreams,
And cast the Nativity of their desires,
If he reward well, all he thinks is prosperous:
And if he promise place, his dreams are Oracles;
Your antient practique Art too in these discoveries,
Who loves at such a length, who a span farther,
And who draws home, yield you no little profit,
For these ye milk by circumstance.
Qui. Ye are cunning.
Pin. And as they oil ye, and advance your Spindle,
So you draw out the lines of love, your doors too,
The doors of destiny, that men must pass through;
These are fair places.
Pan. He knows all.
Pin. Your trap-doors,
To pop fools in it, that have no providence,
Your little wickets, to work wise men, like wires, through at,
And draw their states and bodies into Cobwebs,
Your Postern doors, to catch those that are cautelous,
And would not have the worlds eye find their knaveries:
Your doors of danger, some men hate a pleasure,
Unless that may be full of fears; your hope doors,
And those are fine commodities, where fools pay
For every new enco[u]ragement, a new custom;
You have your doors of honor, and of pleasure;
But those are for great Princes, glorious vanities,
That travel to be famous through diseases;
There be the doors of poverty and death too:
But these you do the best you can to damm up,
For then your gain goes out.
Qui. This is a rare Lecture.
Pin. Read to them that understand.
Pan. Beshrew me,
I dare not venture on ye, ye cut too keen, Sir.
Enter Quisara.
Quisan. We thank you Sir for your good mirth,
You are a good companion.
Here comes the Princess now, attend your business.
Quisar. Is there no remedy, no hopes can help me?
No wit to set me free? whose there hoe?
Quisan. Troubled? her looks are almost wild:
What ails the Princess?
I know nothing she wants.
Quisar. Who's that there with you?
Oh Signior Pyniero? you are most welcome:
How does your noble Uncle?
Pin. Sad as you are Madam:
But he commends his service, and this Letter.
Quisar. Go off, attend within—Fair Sir, I thank ye,
Pray be no stranger, for indeed you are welcome;
For your own virtues welcome.
Quisan. We are mistaken,
This is some brave fellow sure.
Pan. I'm sure he's a bold fellow:
But if she hold him so, we must believe it. [Exit.
Quisar. Do you know of this, fair Sir?
P[i]n. I ghess it Madam,
And whether it intends: I had not brought it else.
Quis. It is a business of no common reckoning.
Pin. The handsomer for him that goes about it;
Slight actions are rewarded with slight thanks:
Give me a matter of some weight to wade in.
Quisar. And can you love your Uncle so directly,
So seriously, and so full, to undertake this?
Can there be such a faith?
Pin. Dare you say I to it,
And set me on? 'tis no matter for my Uncle,
Or what I owe to him, dare you but wish it.
Quisar. I wou'd fain—
Pyn. Have it done; say but so Lady.
Quisan. Conceive it so.
Pyn. I will, 'tis that I am bound to:
Your Will that must command me, and your Pleasure,
The fair aspects of those eyes that must direct me:
I am no Uncles Agent, I am mine own, Lady;
I scorn my able youth should plough for others,
Or my ambition serve for pay; I aim,
Although I never hit, as high as any man,
And the reward I reach at, shall be equal,
And what love spurs me on to, this desire,
Makes me forget an honest man, a brave man,
A valiant, and a virtuous man, my countrey-man, Armusia,
The delight of all the Minions,
This love of you, doting upon your beauty, the admiration of your excellence;
Make me but servant to the poorest smile,
Or the least grace you have bestow'd on others,
And see how suddenly I'll work your safety,
And set your thoughts at peace; I am no flatterer,
To promise infinitely, and out-dream dangers;
To lye a bed, and swear men into Feavers,
Like some of your trim suiters; when I promise,
The light is not more constant to the world,
Than I am to my word—She turns for millions.
Quisar. I have not seen a braver confirm'd courage.
Pyn. For a Tun of Crowns she turns: she is a woman,
And much I fear, a worse than I expected.
You are the object, Lady, you are the eye
In which all excellence appears, all wonder,
From which all hearts take fire, all hands their valour:
And when he stands disputing, when you bid him,
Or but thinks of his Estate, Father, Mother,
Friends, Wife, and Children,
H'is a fool, and I scorn him,
And 't be but to make clean his sword, a coward;
Men have forgot their fealty to beauty.
Had I the place in your affections,
My most unworthy Uncle is fit to fall from,
Liv'd in those blessed eyes, and read the stories
Of everlasting pleasures figur'd there,
I wou'd find out your commands before you thought 'em,
And bring 'em to you done, e'r you dream't of 'em.
Quis. I admire his boldness.
Pyn. This, or any thing;
Your brothers death, mine Uncles, any mans,
No state that stands secure, if you frown on it.
Look on my youth, I bring no blastings to you,
The first flower of my strength, my faith.
Quis. No more Sir;
I am too willing to believe, rest satisfi'd;
If you dare do for me, I shall be thankful:
You are a handsome Gentleman, a fair one,
My servant if you please; I seal it thus, Sir.
No more, till you deserve more. [Exit.
Pyn. I am rewarded:
This woman's cunning, but she's bloody too;
Although she pulls her Tallons in, she's mischievous;
Form'd like the face of Heaven, clear and transparent;
I must pretend still, bear 'em both in hopes,
For fear some bloudy slave thrust in indeed,
Fashion'd and flesh'd, to what they wish: well Uncle,
What will become of this, and what dishonor
Follow this fatal shaft, if shot, let time tell,
I can but only fear, and strive to cross it. [Exit.
Enter Armusia, Emanuel, and Soza.
Em. Why are you thus sad? what can grieve or vex you
That have the pleasures of the world, the profits,
The honor, and the loves at your disposes?
Why should a man that wants nothing, want his quiet?
Ar. I want what beggars are above me in, content;
I want the grace I have merited,
The favor, the due respect.
Soz. Does not the King allow it?
Ar. Yes, and all honors else, all I can ask,
That he has power to give; but from his Sister,
The scornful cruelty, forgive me beauty,
That I transgress from her that should look on me,
That should a little smile upon my service,
And foster my deserts for her own faiths sake;
That should at least acknowledge me, speak to me.
Soz. And you goe whining up and down for this, Sir?
Lamenting and disputing of your grievances?
Sighing and sobbing like a sullen School-boy,
And cursing good-wife fortune for this favour?
Ar. What would you have me doe?
Soz. Doe what you should do,
What a man would doe in this case, a wise man,
An understanding man that knows a woman;
Knows her and all her tricks, her scorns, and all her trifles:
Goe to her, and take her in your arms, and shake her,
Take her and toss her like a barr.
Em. But be sure you pitch her upon a Feather-bed,
Shake her between a pair of Sheets, Sir,
There shake these sullen fits out of her, spare her not there;
There you may break her Will, and bruise no bone, Sir.
Soz. Goe to her.
Em. That's the way.
Soz. And tell her, and boldly,
And do not mince the matter, nor mock your self,
With being too indulgent to her pride:
Let her hear roundly from ye, what ye are,
And what ye have deserved, and what she must be.
Em. And be not put off like a common fellow,
With the Princess would be private,
Or that she has taken physick, and admits none;
I would talk to her any where.
Ar. It makes me smile.
Em. Now you look handsomly:
Had I a wench to win, I would so flutter her:
They love a man that crushes 'em to verjuce;
A woman held at hard meat, is your Spaniel.
Soz. Pray take our council, Sir.
Ar. I shall do something,
But not your way, it shews too boisterous,
For my affections are as fair and gentle,
As her they serve.
Enter King.
Soz. The King.
King. Why how now friend?
Why do you rob me of the company
I love so dearly, Sir, I have been seeking you;
For when I want you, I want all my pleasure:
Why sad? thus sad still man? I will not have it;
I must not see the face I love thus shadowed.
Em. And't please your Grace, methinks it ill becomes him:
A soldier should be jovial, high and lusty.
King. He shall be so, come, come, I know your reason,
It shall be none to cross you, ye shall have her,
Take my word, ('tis a Kings word) ye shall have her,
She shall be yours or nothing, pray be merry.
Arm. Your Grace has given me cause, I shall be Sir,
And ever your poor servant.
King. Me my self, Sir,
My better self, I shall find time, and suddainly,
To gratifie your loves too, Gentlemen,
And make you know how much I stand bound to you:
Nay, 'tis not worth your thanks, no further complement;
Will you go with me friend?
Arm. I beseech your Grace,
Spare me an hour or two, I shall wait on you,
Some little private business with my self, Sir,
For such a time.
King. I'll hinder no devotion,
For I know you are regular, I'll take you Gentlemen,
Because he shall have nothing to disturb him,
I shall look for your friend. [Exeunt. manet Armusia.
Enter Panura.
Arm. I dare not fail, Sir:
What shall I do to make her know my misery,
To make her sensible? This is her woman,
I have a toy come to me suddenly,
It may work for the best, she can but scorn me,
And lower than I am, I cannot tumble,
I'll try, what e'er my fate be—Good even fair one.
Pan. 'Tis the brave stranger—A good night to you, Sir.
Now by my Ladies hand, a goodly Gentleman!
How happy shall she be in such a Husband!
Wou'd I were so provided too.
Arm. Good pretty one,
Shall I keep you company for an hour or two?
I want employment for this evening.
I am an honest man.
Pan. I dare believe ye:
Or if ye were not, Sir, that's no great matter,
We take mens promises, wou'd ye stay with me, Sir?
Arm. So it please you, pray let's be better acquainted,
I know you are the Princesses Gentlewoman,
And wait upon her near.
Pan. 'Tis like I do so.
Arm. And may befriend a man, do him fair courtesies,
If he have business your way.
Pan. I understand ye.
Arm. So kind an office, that you may bind a gentleman,
Hereafter to be yours; and your way too,
And ye may bless the hour you did this benefit:
Sweet handsome faces should have courteous minds,
And ready faculties.
Pan. Tell me your business,
Yet if I think it be to her, your self, Sir,
For I know what you are, and what we hold ye,
And in what grace ye stand, without a second,
For that but darkens, you wou'd do it better,
The Princess must be pleas'd with your accesses;
I'm sure I should.
Arm. I want a Courtiers boldness,
And am yet but a stranger, I wou'd fain speak with her:
Pan. 'Tis very late, and upon her hour of sleep, Sir.
Ar. Pray ye wear this, and believe my meaning civil,
My business of that fair respect and carriage:
This for our more acquaintance. [Jewel.
Pan. How close he kisses!
And how sensible the passings of his lips are!
I must do it, and I were to be hang'd now, and I will do it:
He may do as much for me, that's all I aim at;
And come what will on't, life or death, I'll do it,
For ten such kisses more, and 'twere high treason.
Arm. I wou'd be private with her.
Pan. So you shall,
'Tis not worth thanks else, you must dispatch quick.
Arm. Suddenly.
Pan. And I must leave you in my chamber, Sir;
Where you must lock your self that none may see you;
'Tis close to her, you cannot miss the entrance,
When she comes down to bed.
Arm. I understand ye, and once more thank ye Lady.
Pan. Thank me but thus.
Arm. If I fail thee—
Come close then. [Ex.
Enter Quisara, and Quisana.
Quisar. 'Tis late good Aunt, to bed, I am ev'n unready,
My woman will not be long away.
Quisan. I wou'd have you a little merrier first,
Let me sit by ye, and read or discourse
Something that ye fancy, or take my instrument.
Quisar. No, no I thank you,
I shall sleep without these, I wrong your age Aunt
To make ye wait thus, pray let me intreat ye,
To morrow I'll see ye, I know y'are sleepy,
And rest will be a welcome guest, you shall not,
Indeed you shall not stay; oh here's my woman,
Enter Panura.
Good night, good night, and good rest Aunt attend you.
Quisan. Sleep dwell upon your eyes, and fair dreams court ye.
Quisar. Come, where have you been wench? make me unready;
I slept but ill last night.
Pan. You'll sleep the better
I hope [too] night, Madam.
Quisar. A little rest contents me;
Thou lovest thy bed Panura.
Pan. I am not in love Lady,
Nor seldom dream of devils, I sleep soundly.
Quisar. I'll swear thou dost, thy Husband wou'd not take it so well
If thou wert married wench.
Pan. Let him take, Madam,
The way to waken me, I am no Dormouse,
Husbands have larum bels, if they but
Ring once.
Quisar. Thou art a merry wench.
Pan. I shall live the longer.
Quisar. Prethee fetch my Book.
Pan. I am glad of that.
Quisar. I'll read awhile before I sleep.
Pan. I will Madam.
Quisar. And if Ruy Dias meet you, and be importunate,
He may come in.
Pan. I have a better fare for you,
Now least in sight play I. [Exit.
Enter Armusia, locks the door.
Quisar. Why should I love him?
Why should I doat upon a man deserves not,
Nor has no will to work it? who's there wench?
What are you? or whence come you?
Arm. Ye may know me,
I bring not such amazement, noble Lady.
Quisar. Who let you in?
Arm. My restless love that serves ye.
Quisar. This is an impudence I have not heard of,
A rudeness that becomes a thief or ruffian;
Nor shall my brothers love protect this boldness,
You build so strongly on, my rooms are sanctuaries,
And with that reverence, they that seek my favours,
And humble fears, shall render their approaches.
Arm. Mine are no less.
Quisar. I am Mistriss of my self, Sir,
And will be so, I will not be thus visited:
These fears and dangers thrust into my privacy.
Stand further off, I'll cry out else.
Arm. Oh dear Lady!
Quisar. I see dishonor in your eyes.
Arm. There is none:
By all that beauty they are innocent;
Pray ye tremble not, you have no cause.
Quisar. I'll dye first;
Before you have your Will, be torn in pieces;
The little strength I have left me to resist you,
The gods will give me more, before I am forc'd
To that I hate, or suffer—
Arm. You wrong my duty.
Quisar. So base a violation of my liberty?
I know you are bent unnobly; I'll take to me
The spirit of a man; borrow his boldness,
And force my womans fears into a madness,
And e'er you arrive at what you aim at—
Arm. Lady,
If there be in you any womans pity;
And if your fears have not proclaim'd me monstrous;
Look on me, and believe me; is this violence?
Is it to fall thus prostrate to your beauty
A ruffians boldness? is humility a rudeness?
The griefs and sorrows that grow here an impudence?
These forcings, and these fears I bring along with me;
These impudent abuses offered ye;
And thus high has your brothers favour blown me:
Alas dear Lady of my life, I came not
With any purpose, rough or desperate,
With any thought that was not smooth and gentle,
As your fair hand, with any doubt or danger
Far be it from my heart to fright your quiet;
A heavy curse light on it, when I intend it.
Quisar. Now I dare hear you.
Arm. If I had been mischievous,
As then I must be mad; or were a monster,
If any such base thought had harbour'd here,
Or violence that became not man,
You have a thousand bulwarks to assure you,
The holy powers bear shields to defend chastity;
Your honor, and your virtues are such armours;
Your clear thoughts such defences; if you mis-doubt still
And yet retain a fear, I am not honest,
Come with impure thoughts to this place;
Take this, and sheath it here; be your own safety;
Be wise, and rid your fears, and let me perish;
How willing shall I sleep to satisfie you.
Quisar. No, I believe now, you speak worthily;
What came you then for?
Arm. To complain me, beauty,
But modestly.
Quisar. Of what?
Arm. Of your fierce cruelty,
For though I dye, I will not blame the doer:
Humbly to tell your grace, ye had forgot me:
A little to have touch'd at, not accused,
For that I dare not do, your scorns, pray pardon me
And be not angry that I use the liberty
To urge that word, a little to have shew'd you
What I have been, and what done to deserve ye,
If any thing that love commands may reach ye:
To have remembred ye, but I am unworthy,
And to that misery falls all my fortunes,
To have told ye, and by my life ye may believe me,
That I am honest, and will only marry
You, or your memory; pray be not angry.
Quisar. I thank you Sir, and let me tell you seriously,
Ye have taken now the right way to befriend ye,
And to beget a fair and clear opinion,
Yet to try your obedience—
Arm. I stand ready Lady.
Without presuming to ask any thing.
Quisar. Or at this time to hope for further favour;
Or to remember services or smiles;
Dangers you have past through, and rewards due to 'em;
Loves or despairs, but leaving all to me:
Quit this place presently.
Arm. I shall obey ye.
Enter Ruy Dias.
Ru. Ha?
Arm. Who's this?
What art thou?
Ru. A Gentleman.
Arm. Thou art no more I'm sure: oh 'tis Ruy Dias;
How high he looks, and harsh!
Ru. Is there not door enough,
You take such elbow room?
Arm. If I take it, I'll carry it.
Ru. Does this become you Princess?
Arm. The Captain's jealous.
Jealous of that he never durst deserve yet;
Goe freely, goe, I'll give thee leave.
Ru. Your leave, Sir?
Arm. Yes my leave Sir, I'll not be troubled neither,
Nor shall my heart ake, or my head be jealous,
Nor strange suspitious thoughts reign in my memory;
Go on, and do thy worst, I'll smile at thee;
I kiss your fair hand first, then farewel Captain. [Exit.
Quisar. What a pure soul inherits here! what innocence!
Sure I was blind when I first lov'd this fellow,
And long to live in that fogg still: how he blusters!
Ru. Am I your property? or those your flatteries,
The banquets that ye bid me to, the trust
I build my goodly hopes on?
Quisar. Be more temperate.
Ru. Are these the shews of your respect and favour?
What did he here, what language had he with ye?
Did ye invite? could ye stay no longer?
Is he so gracious in your eye?
Quisar. You are too forward.
Ru. Why at these private hours?
Quisar. You are too saucy,
Too impudent to task me with those errors.
Do ye know what I am Sir, and my prerogative?
Though you be a thing I have call'd by th' name of friend,
I never taught you to dispose my liberty;
How durst you touch mine honor? blot my meanings?
And name an action, and of mine but noble?
Thou poor unworthy thing, how have I grac'd thee!
How have I nourisht thee, and raised thee hourly!
Are these the gratitudes you bring Ruy Dias?
The thanks? the services? I am fairly paid;
Was't not enough I saw thou wert a Coward,
And shaddowed thee? no noble sparkle in thee?
Daily provok'd thee, and still found thee coward?
Rais'd noble causes for thee, strangers started at;
Yet still, still, still a Coward, ever Coward;
And with those taints, dost thou upbraid my virtues?
Ruy. I was too blame
Lady.
Quisar. So blindly bold to touch at my behaviour?
Durst thou but look amiss at my allowance?
If thou hadst been a brave fellow, thou hadst had some licence
Some liberty I might have then allowed thee
For thy good face, some scope to have argued with me;
But being nothing but a sound, a shape,
The meer sign of a Soldier—of a Lover.
The dregs and draffy part, disgrace and jealousie,
I scorn thee; and contemn thee.
Ru. Dearest Lady,
If I have been too free—
Quisar. Thou hast been too foolish,
And go on still, I'll study to forget thee,
I would I could, and yet I pity thee. [Exit.
Ru. I am not worth it, if I were, that's misery,
The next door is but death, I must aim at it. [Exit.
Enter King and Governor, like a Moor-Priest.
Kin. So far and truly you have discovered to me
The former currents of my life and fortune,
That I am bound to acknowledge ye most holy,
And certainly to credit your predictions,
Of what are yet to come.
Gov. I am no lyer,
'Tis strange I should, and live so near a neighbor;
But these are not my ends.
Kin. Pray ye sit good father,
Certain a reverend man, and most religious.
Gov. I, that belief's well now, and let me work then,
I'll make ye curse Religion e'er I leave ye:
I have liv'd a long time Son, a mew'd up man,
Sequester'd by the special hand of Heaven
From the worlds vanities, bid farewel to follies,
And shook hands with all heats of youth and pleasures,
As in a dream these twenty years I have slumber'd,
Many a cold Moon have I, in meditation
And searching out the hidden Wils of heaven,
Lain shaking under; many a burning Sun
Has sear'd my body, and boil'd up my blood,
Feebl'd my knees, and stampt a Meagerness
Upon my figure, all to find out knowledge,
Which I have now attained to, thanks to heaven,
All for my countreys good too: and many a vision,
Many a mistick vision have I seen Son.
And many a sight from heaven which has been terrible,
Wherein the Goods and Evils of these Islands
Were lively shadowed; many a charge I have had too,
Still as the time grew ripe to reveal these,
To travel and discover, now I am come Son,
The hour is now appointed,
My tongue is touch'd, and now I speak.
Kin. Do Holy man, I'll hear ye.
Gov. Beware these Portugals; I say beware 'em,
These smooth-fac'd strangers; have an eye upon 'em.
The cause is now the God's, hear, and believe King.
King. I do hear, but before I give rash credit,
Or hang too light on belief, which is a sin, father;
Know I have found 'em gentle, faithful, valiant,
And am in my particular, bound to 'em,
I mean to some for my most strange deliverance.
Gov. Oh Son, the future aims of men, observe me,
Above their present actions, and their glory,
Are to be look'd at, the Stars shew many turnings,
If you could see, mark but with my eyes, pupil;
These men came hither, as my vision tells me,
Poor weather-beaten, almost lost, starv'd, feebled,
Their vessels like themselves, most miserable;
Made a long sute for traffique, and for comfort,
To vent their childrens toys, cure their diseases:
They had their sute, they landed, and to th' rate
Grew rich and powerful, suckt the fat, and freedom
Of this most blessed Isle, taught her to tremble,
Witness the Castle here, the Citadel,
They have clapt upon the neck of your Tidore,
This happy Town, till that she knew these strangers,
To check her when she's jolly.
King. They have so indeed Father.
Gov. Take heed, take heed, I find your fair delivery,
Though you be pleas'd to glorifie that fortune,
And think these strangers gods, take heed I say,
I find it but a handsome preparation,
A fair-fac'd Prologue to a further mischief:
Mark but the end good King, the pin he shoots at
That was the man deliver'd ye; the mirror,
Your Sister is his due; what's she, your heir, Sir?
And what's he a kin then to the kingdom?
But heirs are not ambitious, who then suffers?
What reverence shall the gods have? and what justice
The miserable people? what shall they do?
King. He points at truth directly.
Gov. Think of these Son:
The person, nor the manner I mislike not
Of your preserver, nor the whole man together,
Were he but season'd in the Faith we are,
In our Devotions learn'd.
King. You say right Father.
Gov. To change our Worships now, and our Religion?
To be traytor to our God?
King. You have well advised me,
And I will seriously consider Father,
In the mean time you shall have your fair access
Unto my Sister, advise her to your purpose,
And let me still know how the gods determine.
Gov. I will, but my main end is to advise
The destruction of you all, a general ruine,
And when I am reveng'd, let the gods whistle. [Exeunt.
Enter Ruy Dias, and Pyniero.
Ruy. Indeed, I am right glad ye were not greedy,
And sudden in performing what I will'd you,
Upon the person of Armusia,
I was afraid, for I well knew your valour,
And love to me.
Py. 'Twas not a fair thing, Uncle,
It shew'd not handsome, carried no man in it.
Ruy. I must confess 'twas ill; and I abhor it,
Only this good has risen from this evil;
I have tried your honesty, and find proof,
A constancy that will not be corrupted,
And I much honor it.
Py. This Bell sounds better.
Ruy. My anger now, and that disgrace I have suffer'd,
Shall be more manly vented, and wip'd off,
And my sick honor cur'd the right and straight way;
My Sword's in my hand now Nephew, my cause upon it,
And man to man, one valour to another,
My hope to his.
Py. Why? this is like Ruy Dias?
This carries something of some substance in it;
Some mettle and some man, this sounds a Gentleman;
And now methinks ye utter what becomes ye;
To kill men scurvily, 'tis such a dog-trick,
Such a Rat-catchers occupation—
Ru. It is no better,
But Pyniero, now—
Py. Now you do bravely.
Ru. The difference of our States flung by, forgotten,
The full opinion I have won in service,
And such respects that may not shew us equal,
Laid handsomly aside, only our fortunes,
And single manhoods—
Py. In a service, Sir,
Of this most noble nature, all I am,
If I had ten lives more, those and my fortunes
Are ready for ye, I had thought ye had forsworn fighting,
Or banish'd those brave thoughts were wont to wait upon you;
I am glad to see 'em call'd home agen.
Ruy. They are Nephew,
And thou shalt see what fire they carry in them,
Here, you guess what this means. [Shews a challenge.
Py. Yes very well, Sir,
A portion of Scripture that puzles many an interpreter.
Ruy. As soon as you can find him—
Py. That will not be long Uncle,
And o' my conscience he'll be ready as quickly.
Ruy. I make no doubt good Nephew, carry it so
If you can possible, that we may fight.
Py. Nay you shall fight, assure your self.
Ru. Pray ye hear me
In some such place where it may be possible
The Princess may behold us.
Py. I conceive ye,
Upon the sand behind the Castle, Sir,
A place remote enough, and there be windows
Out of her Lodgings too, or I am mistaken.
Ruy. Y'are i'th' right, if ye can work that handsomly—
Py. Let me alone, and pray be you prepar'd
Some three hours hence.
Ruy. I will not fail.
Py. Get you home,
And if you have any things to dispose of,
Or a few light prayers
That may befriend you, run 'em over quickly,
I warrant I'll bring him on.
Ruy. Farewel Nephew,
And when we meet again—
Py. I, I, fight handsomly;
Take a good draught or two of Wine to settle ye,
Tis an excellent armour for an ill conscience, Uncle;
I am glad to see this mans conversion,
I was afraid fair honor had been bed-rid,
Or beaten out o' th' Island, soldiers, and good ones,
Intended such base courses? he will fight now;
And I believe too bravely; I have seen him
Curry a fellows carkasse handsomely:
And in the head of a troop, stand as if he had been rooted there,
Dealing large doles of death; what a rascal was I
I did not see his Will drawn!
What does she here?
Enter Quisara.
If there be any mischief towards, a woman makes one still;
Now what new business is for me?
Quisar. I was sending for ye,
But since we have met so fair,
You have say'd that labour; I must intreat you, Sir—
Py. Any thing Madam,
Your Wils are my Commands.
Quisar. Y'are nobly courteous;
Upon my better thoughts Signior Pyniero,
And my more peaceable considerations,
Which now I find the richer ornaments;
I wou'd desire you to attempt no farther
Against the person of the noble stranger,
In truth I am asham'd of my share in't;
Nor be incited farther by your Uncle,
I see it will sit ill upon your person;
I have considered, and it will shew ugly,
Carried at best, a most unheard of cruelty;
Good Sir desist—
Py. You speak now like a woman,
And wondrous well this tenderness becomes ye;
But this you must remember—your command
Was laid on with a kiss, and seriously
It must be taken off the same way, Madam,
Or I stand bound still.
Quisar. That shall not endanger ye,
Look ye fair Sir, thus I take off that duty.
Py. By th' mass 'twas soft and sweet,
Some bloods would bound now,
And run a tilt; do not you think bright beauty;
You have done me in this kiss, a mighty favour,
And that [I stand] bound by virtue of this honor,
To do what ever you command me?
Quisar. I think Sir,
From me these are unusual courtesies,
And ought to be respected so; there are some,
And men of no mean rank, would hold themselves
Not poorly blest to taste of such a bounty.
Py. I know there are, that wou'd do many unjust things
For such a kiss, and yet I hold this modest;
All villanies, body and soul dispense with,
For such a provocation, kill their kindred,
Demolish the fair credits of their Parents;
Those kisses I am not acquainted with, most certain Madam,
The appurtenance of this kiss wou'd not provoke me
To do a mischief, 'tis the devils own dance,
To be kiss'd into cruelty.
Quisar. I am glad you make that use Sir.
Py. I am gladder
That you made me believe you were cruel,
For by this hand, I know I am so honest,
However I deceiv'd ye, 'twas high time too,
Some common slave might have been set upon it else;
That willingly I wou'd not kill a dog
That could but fetch and carry for a woman,
She must be a good woman made me kick him,
And that will be hard to find, to kill a man,
If you will give me leave to get another,
Or any she that plaid the best game at it,
And 'fore a womans anger, prefer her fancy.
Quisar. I take it in you well.
Py. I thank ye Lady,
And I shall study to confirm it.
Quisar. Do Sir,
For this time, and this present cause, I allow it,
Most holy Sir.
Enter Governor, Quisana, and Panura.
Gov. Bless ye my Royal Daughter,
And in you, bless this Island Heaven.
Quisar. Good Aunt,
What think ye of this man?
Quisan. Sure h' is a wise man,
And a Religious, he tells us things have hapened
So many years ago, almost forgotten,
As readily as if they were done this hour.
Quisar. Does he not meet with your sharp tongue?
Pan. He tells me Madam,
Marriage, and mouldy Cheese will make me tamer.
Gov. A stubborn keeper, and worse fare,
An open stable, and cold care,
Will tame a Jade, may be your share.
Pan. Bir Lady, a sharp prophet, when this proves good,
I'll bequeath you a skin to make ye a Hood.
Gov. Lady, I would talk with you.
Quisar. Do reverend Sir.
Gov. And for your good, for that that must concern ye,
And give ear wisely to me.
Quisar. I shall father.
Gov. You are a Princess of that excellence,
Sweetness, and grace, that Angel-like fair feature,
Nay, do not blush, I do not flatter you,
Nor do I dote in telling this, I am amazed Lady,
And as I think the gods bestow'd these on ye,
The gods that love ye.
Quisar. I confess their bounty.
Gov. Apply it then to their use, to their honor,
To them, and to their service give this sweetness;
They have an instant great use of your goodness;
You are a Saint esteem'd here for your beauty,
And many a longing heart—
Quisar. I seek no fealty,
Nor will I blemish that, heaven has seal'd on me,
I know my worth, indeed the Portugals
I have at those commands, and their last services,
Nay, even their lives, so much I think my handsomness,
That what I shall enjoyn—
Gov. Use it discreetly.
For I perceive ye understand me rightly,
For here the gods regard your help, and suddainly;
The Portugals, like sharp thorns (mark me Lady)
Stick in our sides, like Razors, wound Religion,
Draw deep, they wound, till the Life-bloud follows,
Our gods they spurn at, and their worships scorn,
A mighty hand they bear upon our government,
These are the men your miracle must work on,
Your heavenly form, either to root them out,
Which as you may endeavour will be easie,
Remember whose great cause you have to execute,
To nip their memory, that may not spring more,
Or fairly bring 'em home to our devotions,
Which will be blessed, and for which you sainted,
But cannot be, and they go; let me buzle.
Quisar. Go up with me,
Where we'll converse more privately;
I'll shew ye shortly how I hold their temper;
And in what chain thir souls.
Gov. Keep fast that hold still,
And either bring that chain, and those bound in it,
And link it to our gods, and their fair worships.
Or Daughter, pinch their hearts apieces with it,
I'll wait upon your grace.
Quisar. Come reverend father.
Wait you below. [Ex. Quisar. and Gov.
Pan. If this Prophet were a young thing,
I should suspect him now, he cleaves so close to her;
These holy Coats are long, and hide iniquities.
Quisan. Away, away fool, a poor wretch.
Pan. These poor ones
Warm but their stomachs once—
Quisan. Come in, thou art foolish. [Ex. Quisania and Panura.
Enter Armusia, Emanuel, and Pyniero.
Arm. I am sorry, Sir, my fortune is so stubborn,
To court my sword against my Countreyman;
I love my Nation well, and where I find
A Portugal of noble Name and Virtue,
I am his humble servant, Signior Pyniero,
Your person, nor your Uncles am I angry with,
You are both fair Gentlemen in my opinion,
And I protest, I had rather use my sword
In your defences, than against your safeties;
'Tis methinks a strange dearth of enemies,
When we seek foes among our selves.
Em. You are injured,
And you must make the best on't now, and readiest—
Arm. You see I am ready in the place, and arm'd
To his desire that call'd me.
Py. Ye speak honestly,
And I could wish ye had met on terms more friendly,
But it cannot now be so.
Enter Ruy Dias.
Em. Turn Sir, and see.
Py. I have kept my word with ye Uncle,
The Gentleman is ready.
Enter Governor, and Quisara above.
Arm. Ye are welcome.
Ru. Bid those fools welcome, that affect your courtesie,
I come not to use compliment, ye have wrong'd me,
And ye shall feel, proud man, e'r I part from ye,
The effects of that, if fortune do not fool me;
Thy life is mine, and no hope shall redeem thee.
Arm. That's a proud word,
More than your faith can justifie.
Quisar. Sure they will fight.
Ruy. She's there, I am happy.
Gov. Let 'em alone, let 'em kill one another,
These are the main posts, if they fall, the buildings
Will tumble quickly.
Quisar. How temperate Armusia!
No more, be quiet yet.
Arm. I am not bloody,
Nor do not feel such mortal malice in me,
But since we cannot both enjoy the Princess,
I am resolv'd to fight.
Ruy. Fight home Armusia,
For if thou faint'st, or fall'st—
Arm. Do ye make all vantages?
Ruy. Always; unto thy life I will not spare thee,
Nor look not for thy mercy.
Arm. I am arm'd then.
Ruy. Stand still I charge ye Nephew, as ye honor me.
Arm. And good Emanuel stir not—
Py. Ye speak fitly,
For we had not stood idle else.
Gov. I am sorry for't.
Em. But since you will have it so—
Ruy. Come Sir.
Arm. I wait ye.
Py. I marry, this looks handsomely,
This is warm work.
Gov. Both fall and't be thy Will. [Ruy falls.
Py. My Uncle dead?
Em. Stand still, or my swords in—
Arm. Now brave Ruy Dias,
Now where's your confidence, your prayers? quickly
Your own spite has condemn'd ye.
Quisar. Hold Armusia.
Ar. Most happy Lady.
Quisar. Hold, and let him rise,
Spare him for me.
Ar. A long life may he enjoy, Lady.
Gov. What ha you done? 'tis better they had all perisht.
Quisar. Peace father, I work for the best; Armusia,
Be in the Garden an hour hence. [Ex. Qu. and Gov.
Ar. I shall Madam.
Py. Now as I live, a Gentleman at all inches,
So brave a mingled temper saw I never.
Ar. Why are ye sad Sir? how would this have griev'd you,
If ye had fall'n under a profest enemy?
Under one had taken vantage of your shame too?
Pray ye be at peace, I am so far from wronging ye,
Or glorying in the pride of such a victory,
That I desire to serve ye, pray look chearfully.
Py. Do you hear this Sir? this love Sir? do you see this Gentleman
How he courts ye? why do you hold your head down?
'Tis no high Treason, I take it, to be equall'd;
To have a slip i' th field, no sin, that's mortal;
Come, come, thank fortune and your friend.
Ar. It may be
You think my tongue may prove your enemy;
And though restrain'd sometimes, out of a bravery,
May take a License to disable ye:
Believe me Sir, so much I hate that liberty,
That in a strangers tongue, 'twill prove an injury,
And I shall right you in't.
Py. Can you have more, Uncle?
Ru. Sir, you have beat me both ways, yet so nobly,
That I shall ever love the hand that did it:
Fortune may make me worthy of some title
That may be near your friend,
Ar. Sir, I must leave ye,
But with so hearty love; and pray be confident,
I carry nothing from this place shall wrong ye. [Exit Arm. and Em.
Py. Come, come, you are right agen, Sir, love your honor,
And love your friend, take heed of bloody purposes,
And unjust ends, good heaven is angry with ye;
Make your fair virtues, and your fame your Mistriss,
And let these trinkets go.
Ru. You teach well Nephew,
Now to be honourabl[e] even with this Gentleman,
Shall be my business, and my ends his.
Enter Governor and King.
Gov. Sir, Sir, you must do something suddainly,
To stop his pride so great and high, he is shot up,
Upon his person too, your state is sunk else:
You must not stand now upon terms of gratitude,
And let a simple tenderness besot ye:
I'll bring ye suddenly where you shall see him,
Attempting your brave Sister, privately,
Mark but his high behaviour then.
King. I will Father.
Gov. And with scorn, I fear contempt too.
King. I hope not.
Gov. I will not name a lust;
It may be that also;
A little force must be applyed upon him,
Now, now applyed, a little force to humble him.
These sweet intreaties do but make him wanton.
King. Take heed ye wrong him not.
Gov. Take heed to your safety,
I but forewarn ye King; if you mistrust me,
Or think I come un-sent—
King. No, I'll go with you. [Exeunt.
Enter Armusia, Quisara.
Arm. Madam, you see there's nothing I can reach at,
Either in my obedience, or my service,
That may deserve your love, or win a liking,
But a poor thought, but I pursue it seriously,
Take pleasure in your Will, even in your anger,
Which other men would grudge at, and grow stormy;
I study new humility to please ye,
And take a kind of joy in my afflictions,
Because they come from ye, I love my sorrows:
Pray Madam but consider—
Quisar. Yes, I do Sir,
And to that honest end I drew thee hither;
I know ye have deserv'd as much as man can,
And know it is a justice to requite you:
I know ye love.
Arm. If ever love was mortal,
And dwelt in man, and for that love command me,
So strong I find it, and so true, here Lady,
Something of such a greatness to allow me,
Those things I have done already, may seem foyls too:
'Tis equity that man aspires to heaven,
Should win it by his worth, and not sleep to it.
Enter Governor, and King.
Gov. Now stand close King and hear, and as you find him,
Believe me right, or let Religion suffer.
Quisar. I dare believe your worth without additions;
But since you are so liberal of your love Sir,
And wou'd be farther tried, I do intend it,
Because you shall not, or you wou'd not win me
At such an easie rate.
Arm. I am prepared still,
And if I shrink—
Quisar. I know ye are no coward,
This is the utmost trial of your constancy,
And if you stand fast now, I am yours, your wife Sir;
You hold there's nothing dear that may atchieve me,
Doubted or dangerous.
Arm. There's nothing, nothing:
Let me but know, that I may straight flie to it.
Quisar. I'll tell you then, change your Religion.
And be of one belief with me.
Arm. How?
Quisar. Mark,
Worship our Gods, renounce that faith ye are bred in;
'Tis easily done, I'll teach ye suddenly;
And humbly on your knees—
Arm. Ha? I'll be hang'd first.
Quisar. Offer as we do.
Arm. To the devil Lady?
Offer to him I hate? I know the devil.
To dogs and cats? you make offer to them;
To every bird that flies, and every worm.
How terribly I shake! Is this the venture?
The trial that you talk'd of? where have I been?
And how forgot my self? how lost my memory?
When did I pray, or look up stedfastly?
Had any goodness in my heart to guide me?
That I should give this vantage to mine enemy;
The enemy to my peace, forsake my faith?
Quisar. Come, come, I know ye love me.
Arm. Love ye this way?
This most destroying way? sure you but jest, Lady.
Quisar. My Love and Life are one way.
Arm. Love alone then, and mine another way,
I'll love diseases first,
Doat on a villain that would cut my throat,
Wooe all afflictions of all sorts, kiss cruelty.
Have mercy heaven, how have I been wand'ring!
Wand'ring the way of Lust, and left my Maker!
How have I slept like Cork upon a water,
And had no feeling of the storm that tost me!
Trode the blind paths of death! forsook assurance,
Eternity of blessedness for a woman!
For a young handsome face, hazard my Being!
Quisar. Are not our powers eternal, so their comforts?
As great and full of hopes as yours?
Arm. They are puppets.
Gov. Now mark him Sir, and but observe him nearly.
Ar. Their comforts like themselves, cold, sensless outsides;
You make 'em sick, as we are, peevish, mad,
Subject to age; and how can they cure us,
That are not able to refine themselves?
Quis. The Sun and Moon we worship, those are heavenly,
And their bright influences we believe.
Arm. Away fool,
I adore the Maker of that Sun and Moon,
That gives those bodies light and influence;
That pointed out their paths, and taught their motions;
They are not so great as we, they are our servants,
Plac'd there to teach us time, to give us knowledge
Of when and how the swellings of the main are,
And their returns agen; they are but our Stewards
To make the earth fat, with their influence,
That she may bring forth her increase, and feed us.
Shall I fall from this faith to please a woman?
For her embraces bring my soul to ruin?
I look'd you should have said, make me a Christian,
Work that great cure, for 'tis a great one woman;
That labor truly to perform, that venture,
The crown of all great trial, and the fairest:
I look'd ye should have wept and kneel'd to beg it,
Washt off your mist of ignorance, with waters
Pure and repentant, from those eyes; I look'd
You should have brought me your chief god ye worship,
He that you offer humane bloud and life to,
And make a sacrifice of him to memory,
Beat down his Altars, ruin'd his false Temples.
Gov. Now you may see.
Quisar. Take heed, you goe too far, Sir,
And yet I love to hear him, I must have ye,
And to that end I let you storm a little;
I know there must be some strife in your bosom
To cool and quiet ye, e'r you can come back:
I know old friends cannot part suddainly,
There will be some left still, yet I must have ye,
Have ye of my faith too, and so enjoy ye.
Arm. Now I contemn ye, and I hate my self
For looking on that face lasciviously,
And it looks ugly now me thinks.
Quisar. How Portugal?
Arm. It looks like death it self, to which 'twou'd lead me;
Your eyes resemble pale dispair, they fright me,
And in their rounds, a thousand horrid ruins,
Methinks I see; and in your tongue hear fearfully
The hideous murmurs of weak souls have suffer'd;
Get from me, I despise ye; and know woman,
That for all this trap you have laid to catch my life in,
To catch my immortal life, I hate and curse ye,
Contemn your Deities, spurn at their powers,
And where I meet your Mahumet gods, I'll swing 'em
Thus o'r my head, and kick 'em into puddles,
Nay, I will out of vengeance search your Temples.
And with those hearts that serve my God, demolish
Your shambles of wild worships.
Gov. Now, now you hear Sir.
Arm. I will have my faith, since you are so crafty,
The glorious cross, although I love your brother;
Let him frown too, I will have my devotion,
And let your whole State storm.
King. Enter and take him;
I am sorry friend that I am forc'd to do this.
Gov. Be sure you bind him fast.
Quisar. But use him nobly.
King. Had it to me been done, I had forgiven it,
And still preserv'd you fair, but to our gods Sir—
Quisar. Methinks I hate 'em now.
King. To our Religion,
To these to be thus stubborn, thus rebellious
To threaten them.
Arm. Use all your violence,
I ask no mercy, nor repent my words:
I spit at your best powers; I serve one,
Will give me strength to scourge your gods.
Gov. Away with him.
Arm. To grind 'em into base dust, and disperse 'em,
That never more their bloudy memories—
Gov. Clap him close up.
King. Good friend be cooler.
Arm. Never;
Your painted Sister I despise too.
King. Softly.
Arm. And all her devilish Arts laugh and scorn at,
Mock her blind purposes.
King. You must be temperate;
Offer him no violence, I command you strictly.
Gov. Now thou art up, I shall have time to speak too.
Quisar. Oh how I love this man, how truly honor him. [Exeunt.
Enter Christophero, and Pedro (at one door) Emanuel, and Soza, (at another).
Chr. Do you know the news Gentlemen?
Em. Wou'd we knew as well, Sir,
How to prevent it.
Soz. Is this the love they bear us,
For our late benefit? taken so maliciously,
And clapt up close? is that the thanks they render?
Ch. It must not be put up thus, smother'd slightly,
'Tis such a base unnatural wrong.
Ped. I know,
They may think to doe wonders, aim at all,
And to blow us with a vengeance, out o'th' Islands:
But if we be our selves, honest and resolute,
And continue but Masters of our antient courages,
Stick close, and give no vantage to their villanies—
Soz. Nay, if we faint or fall apieces now,
We are fools, and worthy to be markt for misery;
Begin to strike at him, they are all bound too?
To cancel his deserts? what must we look for
If they can carry this?
Em. I'll carry coals then;
I have but one life, and one fortune, Gentlemen,
But I'll so husband it to vex these rascals,
These barbarous slaves.
Ch. Shall we go charge 'em presently?
Soz. No, that will be too weak, and too fool-hardy,
We must have grounds, that promise safety, friends,
And sure offence, we lose our angers else,
And worse than that, venture our lives too lightly.
Enter Pyniero.
Py. Did you see mine Uncle? plague o' these Barbarians,
How the rogues stick in my teeth, I know ye are angry,
So I am too, monstrous angry, Gentlemen,
I am angry, that I choak agen.
You hear Armusia's up, honest Arm:
Clapt up in prison, friends, the brave Arm:
Here are fine boys.
Em. We hope he shall not stay there.
Py. Stay, no, he must not stay, no talk of staying,
These are no times to stay; are not these rascals?
Speak, I beseech ye speak, are they not Rogues?
Think some abominable names—are they not devils?
But the devil's a great deal too good for 'em—fusty villains.
Ch. They are a kind of hounds.
Py. Hounds were their fathers;
Old blear-ey'd bob-tail'd hounds—Lord, where's my Uncle?
Soz. But what shall be done, Sir?
Py. Done?
Soz. Yes, to relieve him;
If it be not sudden they may take his life too.
Py. They dare as soon take fire and swallow it,
Take stakes and thrust into their tails for glisters:
His life, why 'tis a thing worth all the Islands,
And they know will be rated at that value;
His very imprisonment will make the Town stink,
And shake and stink, I have physick in my hand for 'em
Shall give the goblins such a purge—
Enter Ruy Dias.
Ped. Your Uncle.
Ru. I hear strange news, and have been seeking ye;
They say Armusia's prisoner.
Py. 'Tis most certain.
Ru. Upon what cause?
Py. He has deserv'd too much, Sir;
The old heathen policie has light upon him.
And paid him home.
Ru. A most unnoble dealing.
Py. You are the next, if you can carry it tamely,
He has deserved of all.
Ru. I must confess it,
Of me so nobly too.
Py. I am glad to hear it,
You have a time now to make good your confession,
Your faith will shew but cold else, and for fashion,
Now to redeem all, now to thank his courtesie,
Now to make those believe that held you backward,
And an ill instrument, you are a Gentleman,
An honest man, and you dare love your Natio[n],
Dare stick to virtue, though she be opprest,
And for her own fair sake, step to her rescue:
If you live ages, Sir, and lose this hour,
Not now redeem, and vindicate your honor
Your life will be a murmure, and no man in't.
Ru. I thank ye nephew, come along with me Gentlemen,
We'll make 'em dancing sport immediately:
We are Masters of the Fort yet, we shall see
What that can do.
Py. Let it but spit fire finely,
And play their turrets, and their painted Palaces,
A frisking round or two, that they may trip it;
And caper in the air.
Ru. Come, we'll do something
Shall make 'em look about, we'll send 'em plums,
If they be not too hard for their teeth.
Py. And fine Potatoes
Rosted in Gunpowder, such a Banquet, Sir
Will prepare their unmannerly stomachs.
Ru. They shall see
There is no safe retreat in villany;
Come, be high-hearted all.
Omnes. We are all on fire, Sir. [Exeunt.
Enter King and Governor.
King. I am ungrateful, and a wretch, perswade me not,
Forgetful of the mercy he shew'd me,
The timely noble pity—why should I
See him fast bound and fetter'd, whose true courtesie,
Whose manhood, and whose mighty hand set me free?
Why should it come from me? why I command this?
Shall not all tongues and truths call me unthankful?
Gov. Had the offence been thrown on you, 'tis certain
It had been in your power, and your discretion
To have turn'd it into mercy, and forgiven it,
And then it had shew'd a virtuous point of gratitude,
Timely, and nobly taken; but since the cause
Concerns the honor of our gods, and their Title,
And so transcends your power, and your compassion,
A little your own safety, if you saw it too,
If your too fond indulgence did not dazle you,
It cannot now admit a private pitty;
'Tis in their Wills, their Mercies, or Revenges,
And these revolts in you, shew mere rebellions.
King. They are mild and pittiful.
Gov. To those repent.
King. Their nature's soft and tender.
Gov. To true hearts.
That feel compunction for their trespasses:
This man defies 'em still, threatens destruction
And demolition of their Arms and Worship,
Spits at their powers; take heed ye be not found, Sir,
And mark'd a favourer of their dishonor;
They use no common justice.
King. What shall I do
To deserve of this man—
Gov. If ye more bemoan him,
Or mitigate your power to preserve him,
I'll curse ye from the gods, call up their vengeance.
Enter Quisara with her hands bound, Quisana, Panura.
And fling it on your Land and you, I have charge [for't;]
I hope to wrack you all.
King. What ails my Sister?
Why, is she bound? why looks she so distractedly?
Who does do this?
Quisan. We did it, pardon Sir,
And for her preservation—She is grown wild,
And raving on the strangers love and honor,
Sometimes crying out help, help, they will torture him,
They will take his life, they will murder him presently,
If we had not prevented violently
Have laid hands on her own life.
Gov. These are tokens,
The gods displeasure is gone out, be quick,
And e'r it fall, doe something to appease 'em.
You know the sacrifice—I am glad it works thus.
Quisa. How low and base thou lookst now, that wert noble!
No figure of a King, methinks shews on you.
No face of Majesty, foul, swarth ingratitude
Has taken off thy sweetness, base forgetfulness
Of mighty benefits, has turned thee Devil:
Thou hast persecuted goodness, innocence;
And laid a hard and violent hand on virtue,
On that fair virtue that should teach and guide us;
Thou hast wrong'd thine own preserver, whose least merit,
Pois'd with thy main Estate, thou canst not satisfie,
Nay, put thy life in too, 'twill be too light still:
What hast thou done?
Gov. Goe for him presently,
And once more we'll try if we can win him fairly:
If not, let nothing she says hinder ye, or stir ye;
She speaks distractedly—Do that the gods command ye,
Do you know what ye say Lady?
Quisar. I could curse thee too,
Religion and severity has steel'd thee,
Has turn'd thy heart to stone; thou hast made the gods hard too,
Against their sweet and patient natures, cruel:
None of ye feel what bravery ye tread on?
What innocence? what beauty?
King. Pray be patient.
Quisar. What honourable things ye cast behind [ye]?
What monuments of man?
Enter Armusia and Guard.
King. Once more Armusia,
Because I love ye tenderly and dearly,
And would be glad to win ye mine, I wish ye,
Even from my heart I wish and wooe ye—
Ar. What Sir,
Take heed how ye perswade me falsly, then ye hate me:
Take heed how ye intrap me.
King. I advise ye,
And tenderly and truly I advise ye,
Both for your souls health, and your safety.
Ar. Stay,
And name my soul no more, she is too precious,
Too glorious for you[r] flatteries, too secure too.
Gov. Consider the reward, Sir, and the honor
That is prepared, the glory you shall grow to.
Arm. They are not to be consider'd in these cases,
Not to be nam'd when souls are question'd;
They are vain and flying vapors—touch my life,
'Tis ready for ye, put it to what test
It shall please ye, I am patient; but for the rest
You may remove Rocks with your little fingers,
Or blow a Mountain out o' th' way, with bellows,
As soon as stir my faith; use no more arguments.
Gov. We must use tortures then.
Arm. Your worst and painfull'st
I am joyful to accept.
Gov. You must the sharpest,
For such has been your hate against our Deities
Delivered openly, your threats and scornings,
And either your repentance must be mighty,
Which is your free conversion to our customs,
Or equal punishment which is your life, Sir.
Arm. I am glad I have it for ye, take it Priest,
And all the miseries that shall attend it:
Let the gods glut themselves with Christian bloud,
It will be ask'd again, and so far followed,
So far reveng'd, and with such holy justice,
Your gods of gold shall melt and sink before it;
Your Altars and your Temples shake to nothing;
And you false worshipers, blind fools of ceremony,
Shall seek for holes to hide your heads, and fears in,
For seas to swallow you from this destruction,
Darkness to dwell about ye, and conceal ye;
Your mothers womb agen—
Gov. Make the fires ready,
And bring the several tortures out.
Quisar. Stand fast, Sir,
And fear 'em not, you that have stept so nobly
Into this pious Trial, start not now,
Keep on your way, a Virgin will assist ye,
A Virgin won by your fair constancy,
And glorying that she is won so, will dye by ye:
I have touch'd ye every way, tried ye most honest,
Perfect, and good, chaste, blushing chaste, and temperate,
Valiant, without vain-glory, modest, stayed,
No rage, or light affection ruling in you:
Indeed, the perfect school of worth I find ye,
The temple of true honor.
Arm. Whether will she?
What do you infer by this fair argument, Lady?
Quisar. Your Faith, and your Religion must be like ye,
They that can shew you these, must be pure mirrors,
When the streams flow clear and fair, what are the fountains?
I do embrace your faith, Sir, and your fortune;
Go on, I will assist ye, I feel a sparkle here,
A lively spark that kindles my affection,
And tells me it will rise to flames of glory:
Let 'em put on their angers, suffer nobly,
Shew me the way, and when I faint, instruct me;
And if I follow not—
Arm. Oh blessed Lady,
Since thou art won, let me begin my triumph,
Come clap your terrors on.
Quisar. All your fell tortures.
For there is nothing he shall suffer, brother,
I swear by a new faith, which is most sacred,
And I will keep it so, but I will follow in,
And follow to a scruple of affliction,
In spight of all your gods without prevention.
Gov. Death! she amazes me.
King. What shall be done now?
Gov. They must dye both,
And suddenly, they will corrupt all else;
This woman makes me weary of my mischief,
She shakes me, and she staggers me, go in Sir,
I'll see the execution.
Kin. Not so suddain:
If they go, all my Friends and Sisters perish.
Gov. Wou'd I were safe at home agen.
Enter Messenger.
Mes. Arm, arm, Sir,
Seek for defence, the Castle plays and thunders,
The Town Rocks, and the houses fly i' th' air,
The people dye for fear—Captain Ruy Dias,
Has made an oath he will not leave a stone here;
No, not the memory, here has stood a City,
Unless Armusia be deliver'd fairly.
King. I have my fears: what can our gods do now for us?
Gov. Be patient, but keep him still: he is a cure, Sir,
Against both Rage and Cannon: goe and fortifie,
Call in the Princess, make the Palace sure,
And let 'em know you are a King: look nobly;
And take you[r] courage to ye; keep close the prisoner,
And under command, we are betraid else.
Ar. How joyfully I goe!
Quisar. Take my heart with thee.
Gov. I hold a Wolf by the ear now:
Fortune free me. [Exeunt.