The Project Gutenberg eBook of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (5 of 10), by Francis Beaumont, John Fletcher.

I am covetous to die for such a beauty.
Mine Uncle comes: now, if she stand, I am happie.

Cha. Be right again, for honours sake.

Dio. Fair Mistris—

Aur. What man is this? Away. What sawcy fellow?
Dare any such base groom press to salute me?

Dio. Have ye forgot me, Fair, or do you jest with me?
I'le tell ye what I am: come, 'pray ye look lovely.
Nothing but frowns and scorns?

Aur. Who is this fellow?

Dio. I'le tell ye who I am: I am your husband.

Aur. Husband to me?

Dio. To you. I am Dioclesian.

Max. More of this sport, and I am made, old Mother:
Effect but this thou hast begun.

Dio. I am he, Lady,
Reveng'd your Brothers death; slew cruel Aper;
I am he the Souldier courts, the Empire honours,
Your Brother loves; am he (my lovely Mistriss)
Will make you Empress of the World.

Max. Still excellent;
Now I see too, mine Uncle may be cozen'd:
An Emperour may suffer like another.
Well said, old Mother, hold up this miracle.

Aur. Thou lyest, thou art not he: thou a brave fellow?

Char. Is there no shame, no modesty in women?

Aur. Thou one of high and full mark?

Dio. Gods! what ails she?

Aur. Generous and noble? Fie, thou liest most basely.
Thy face, and all aspects upon thee, tell me
Thou art a poor Dalmatian Slave, a low thing,
Not worth the name of Roman; stand off farther.

Dio. What may this mean?

Aur. Come hither, my Endymion;
Come, shew thy self, and all eyes be blessed in thee.

Dio. Ha? what is this?

Aur. Thou fair star that I live by,
Look lovely on me, break into full brightness;
Look, here's a face now, of another making,
Another mold; here's a divine proportion,
Eyes fit for Phoebus self to gild the World with;
And there's a brow arch'd like the State of Heaven;
Look how it bends, and with what radiance,
As if the Synod of the gods sate under;
Look there, and wonder; now behold that fellow,
That admirable thing, cut with an Axe out.

Max. Old Woman, though I cannot give thee recompence,
Yet certainly, I'll make thy name as glorious.

Dio. Is this in truth?

Char. She is mad, and you must pardon her.

Dio. She hangs upon him; see.

Char. Her fit is strong now,
Be not you passionate.

Dio. She kisses.

Char. Let her;
'Tis but the fondness of her fit.

Dio. I am fool'd,
And if I suffer this.

Char. 'Pray ye, friend, be pacified,
This will be off anon; she goes in. [Exit Aurelia.

Dio. Sirrah.

Max. What say you, Sir?

Dio. How dare thy lips, thy base lips?

Max. I am your Kinsman, Sir, and no such base one;
I sought no kisses, nor I had no reason
To kick the Princess from me; 'twas no manners;
I never yet compell'd her; of her courtesie,
What she bestows, Sir, I am thankful for.

Dio. Be gone, Villain.

Max. I will, and I will go off with that glory,
And magnifie my fate. [Exit.

Dio. Good Brother, leave me,
I am to my self a trouble now.

Char. I am sorry for't;
You'll find it but a woman-fit to try ye.

Dio. It may be so, I hope so.

Char. I am asham'd, and what I think I blush at. [Exit.

Dio. What misery hath my fortune bred me?
And how far must I suffer? Poor and low States,
Though they know wants and hungers, know not these,
Know not these killing Fates; little contents them,
And with that little they live, Kings commanding,
And ordering both their ends and loves. O Honour!
How greedily men seek thee, and once purchased,
How many Enemies to mans peace bringst thou!
How many griefs and sorrows, that like sheers,
Like fatal Sheers, are sheering off our lives still!
How many sad Eclipses do we shine thorow!

When I presum'd I was blessed in this fair woman.

Del. Behold him now, and tell me how thou lik'st him.

Dio. When all my hopes were up, and Fortune dealt me
Even for the greatest, and the happiest Monarch,
Then to be cozen'd, to be cheated basely?
By mine own Kinsman cross'd? O villain Kinsman!
Curse of my blood; because a little younger,
A little smoother fac'd; O false, false woman,
False and forgetful of thy faith; I'll kill him.
But can I kill her hate too? No, he woos not,
Nor worthy is of death, because she follows him,
Because she courts him; Shall I kill an innocent?
O Diocles! would thou hadst never known this,
Nor surfeited upon this sweet Ambition,
That now lies bitter at thy heart; O Fortune,
That thou hast none to fool, and blow like bubbles,
But Kings, and their Contents!

Del. What think you now, Girl?

Dru. Upon my life, I pity his misfortune:
See how he weeps; I cannot hold.

Del. Away, fool;
He must weep bloody tears before thou hast him.
How fare ye now, brave Dioclesian?
What! lazy in your loves? has too much pleasure
Dull'd your most mighty faculties?

Dio. Art thou there!
More to torment me? dost thou come to mock me?

Del. I do, and I do laugh at all thy sufferings:
I, that have wrought 'em, come to scorn thy wailings;
I told thee once, this is thy fate, this woman,
And as thou usest her, so thou shall prosper.
It is not in thy power to turn this destiny,
Nor stop the torrent of those miseries
(If thou neglectst her still) shall fall upon thee.
Sith that thou art dishonest, false of faith,
Proud, and dost think no Power can cross thy pleasures;
Thou wilt find a Fate above thee.

Dru. Good Aunt, speak mildly;
See how he looks and suffers.

Dio. I find and feel, woman,
That I am miserable.

Del. Thou art most miserable.

Dio. That as I am the most, I am most miserable.
But didst thou work this?

Del. Yes, and will pursue it.

Dio. Stay there, and have some pity, fair Drusilla
Let me perswade thy mercy, thou hast lov'd me,
Although I know my suit will sound unjustly
To make thy love the means to lose it self,
Have pity on me.

Dru. I will do.

Del. Peace, Niece,
Although this softness may become your love,
Your care must scorn it. Let him still contemn thee,
And still I'll work; the same affection
He ever shews to thee, be it sweet or bitter,
The same Aurelia shall shew him; no further;
Nor shall the wealth of all his Empire free this.

Dio. I must speak fair. Lovely young Maid, forgive me,
Look gently on my sorrows; you that grieve too,
I see it in your eyes, and thus I meet it.

Dru. O Aunt, I am bless'd.

Dio. Be not both young and cruel,
Again I beg it thus.

Dru. Thus, Sir, I grant it.

He's mine own now, Aunt.

Del. Not yet, Girl, thou art cozen'd.

Aur. O my dear Lord, how have I wrong'd your patience!
How wandred from the truth of my affections!
How (like a wanton fool) shun'd that I lov'd most!
But you are full of goodness, to forgive, Sir,
As I of grief to beg, and shame to take it;
Sure I was not my self, some strange illusion,
Or what you please to pardon.

Dio. All, my Dearest;
All, my Delight; and with more pleasure take thee,
Than if there had been no such dream: for certain,
It was no more.

Aur. Now you have seal'd forgiveness,
I take my leave, and the gods keep your goodness. [Exit.

Del. You see how kindness prospers; be but so kind
To marry her, and see then what new fortunes,
New joys and pleasures; far beyond this Lady,
Beyond her Greatness too.

Dio. I'll dye a dog first.
Now I am reconcil'd, I will enjoy her
In spight of all thy spirits, and thy witchcrafts.

Del. Thou shalt not, fool.

Dio. I will, old doting Devil;
And wert thou any thing but air and spirit,
My Sword should tell thee.

Del. I contemn thy threatnings,
And thou shalt know I hold a power above thee.
We must remove Aurelia; Come, farewel, fool,
When thou shalt see me next, thou shalt bow to me.

Dio. Look thou appear no more to cross my pleasures. [Exeunt.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

So full of matter is our Historie,
Yet mixt I hope with sweet varietie,
The accidents not vulgar too, but rare,
And fit to be presented, that there wants
Room in this narrow Stage, and time to express
In Action to the life, our Dioclesian
In his full lustre: Yet (as the Statuary,
That by the large size of Alcides's foot,
Guess'd at his whole proportion) so we hope
Your apprehensive judgments will conceive
Out of the shadow we can only shew,
How fair the Body was; and will be pleas'd,
Out of your wonted goodness, to behold
As in a silent Mirrour, what we cannot
With fit conveniency of time, allow'd
For such Presentments, cloath in vocal sounds.
Yet with such Art the Subject is conveigh'd,
That every Scene and passage shall be clear
Even to the grossest Understander here.

The skilful Delphia finding by sure proof
The presence of Aurelia dim'd the Beauty
Of her Drusilla; and in spight of Charms,
The Emperour her Brother, Great Charinus,
Still urg'd her to the love of Dioclesian,
Deals with the Persian Legats, that were bound
For the Ransom of Cassana, to remove
Aurelia, Maximinian, and Charinus
Out of the sight of Rome; but takes their Oaths
(In lieu of her assistance) that they shall not
On any terms, when they were in their power,
Presume to touch their lives; This yielded to,
They lye in ambush for 'em. Dioclesian
Still mad for fair Aurelia, that doted
As much on Maximinian, twice had kill'd him,
But that her frown restrain'd him: He pursues her
With all humility; but she continues
Proud and disdainful. The sign given by Delphia,
The Persians break thorow, and seize upon
Charinus and his Sister, with Maximinian,
And free Cassana. For their speedy rescue,
Enraged Dioclesian draws his Sword,
And bids his Guard assist him; Then too weak
Had been all opposition and resistance
The Persians could have made against their fury,
If Delphia by her Cunning had not raised
A foggy Mist, which, as a Cloud, conceal'd them,
Deceiving their Pursuers. Now be pleased,
That your imaginations may help you
To think them safe in Persia, and Dioclesian
For this disaster circled round with sorrow,
Yet mindful of the wrong. Their future fortunes
We will present in Action; and are bold,
In that which follows, that the most shall say,
'Twas well begun, but the End crown'd the Play. [Exit.

SCENE II.

Dio. Talk not of comfort; I have broke my faith,
And the gods fight against me; and proud man,
However magnified, is but as dust
Before the raging whirl-wind of their justice.
What is it to be great? ador'd on Earth?
When the immortal Powers that are above us
Turn all our Blessings into horrid Curses,
And laugh at our resistance, or prevention
Of what they purpose? O the Furies that
I feel within me! whipt on, by their angers,
For my tormentors. Could it else have been
In Nature, that a few fugitive Persians,
Unfriended, and unarmed too, could have rob'd me
(In Rome, the World's Metropolis, and her glory;
In Rome, where I command, inviron'd round
With such invincible Troops that know no fear,
But want of noble Enemies) of those jewels
I priz'd above my life, and I want power
To free them, if those gods I have provok'd
Had not given spirit to the undertakers,
And in their deed protected 'em?

Nig. Great Cæsar,
Your safety does confirm you are their care,
And that howe'r their practices reach others,
You stand above their malice.

1 Sen. Rome in us
Offers (as means to further your revenge)
The lives of her best Citizens,
And all they stand possess'd of.

1 Guard. Do but lead us on
With that invincible and undaunted Courage
Which waited bravely on you, when you appear'd
The minion of Conquest; married rather
To glorious Victory, and we will drag
(Though all the Enemies of life conspire
Against our undertakings) the proud Persian,
Out of his strongest hold.

2 Guard. Be but your self,
And do not talk but do.

3 Guard. You have hands and swords,
Limbs to make up a well proportion'd Army,
That only want in you an Head to lead us.

Dio. The gods reward your goodness; and believe,
Howe'r (for some great sin) I am mark't out
The object of their hate, though Jove stood ready
To dart his three-fold thunder on this head,
It could not fright me from a fierce pursuit
Of my revenge; I will redeem my friends,
And with my friends mine honour; at least fall
Like to my self, a Souldier.

Nig. Now we hear
Great Dioclesian speak.

Dio. Draw up our Legions,
And let it be your care (my much lov'd Niger)
To hasten the remove; And, fellow Souldiers,
Your love to me will teach you to endure
Both long and tedious Marches.

1 Guard. Dye he accurs'd
That thinks of rest or sleep, before he sets
His foot on Persian-Earth.

Nig. We know our glory;
The dignity of Rome, and what's above
All can be urg'd, the quiet of your mind
Depends upon our haste.

Dio. Remove to night;
Five days shall bring me to you.

All. Happiness
To Cæsar, and glorious victory. [Exeunt.

Dio. The cheerfulness of my Souldiers gives assurance
Of good success abroad; if first I make
My peace at home here. There is something chides me,
And sharply tells me, that my breach of faith
To Delphia and Drusilla, is the ground
Of my misfortunes; And I must remember,
While I was lov'd, and in great Delphia's Grace,
She was as my good Angel, and bound Fortune
To prosper my designs; I must appease her;
Let others pay their Knees, their Vows, their Prayers
To weak imagin'd Powers; She is my All,
And thus I do invoke her. Knowing Delphia,
Thou more than Woman, and though thou vouchsafest
To grace the Earth with thy celestial Steps,
And taste this grosser air, thy heavenly Spirit
Hath free access to all the secret Counsels
Which a full Senate of the gods determine
When they consider man: The brass leav'd Book
Of Fate lies open to thee, where thou read'st,
And fashionest the destinies of men
At thy wish'd pleasures; Look upon thy creature,
And as thou twice hast pleased to appear
To reprehend my falshood, now vouchsafe
To see my low submission. [Delphia and Drusilla appear.

Del. What's thy Will?
False, and unthankful, (and in that deserving
All humane sorrows) darst thou hope from me
Relief or Comfort?

Dio. Penitence does appease
Th' incensed Powers, and Sacrifice takes off
Their heavy angers; thus I tender both;
The Master of great Rome, and in that, Lord
Of all the Sun gives heat and being to,
Thus sues for mercy; Be but as thou wert,
The Pilot to the Bark of my good fortunes,
And once more steer my actions to the Port
Of glorious Honour, and if I fall off
Hereafter from my faith to this sweet Virgin,
Joyn with those Powers that punish perjury,
To make me an example to deter
Others from being false.

Dru. Upon my soul,
You may believe him; nor did he e'r purpose
To me but nobly; he made tryal how
I could endure unkindness; I see Truth
Triumphant in his sorrow. Dearest Aunt,
Both credit him, and help him; and on assurance
That what I plead for, you cannot deny,
I raise him thus, and with this willing kiss
I seal his pardon.

Dio. O that I e'r lookt
Beyond this abstract of all womans goodness.

Del. I am thine again; thus I confirm our league;
I know thy wishes, and how much thou suffer'st
In honour for thy friends; thou shalt repair all;
For to thy Fleet I'll give a fore-right wind
To pass the Persian Gulf; remove all lets
That may molest thy Souldiers in their March
That pass by land, and destiny is false,
If thou prove not victorious; Yet remember,
When thou art rais'd up to the highest point
Of humane happiness, such as move beyond it
Must of necessity descend. Think on't,
And use those Blessings that the gods pour on you
With moderation.

Dio. As their Oracle
I hear you, and obey you, and will follow
Your grave directions.

Del. You will not repent it. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Nig. How do you like your entrance to the War?
When the whole Body of the Army moves,
Shews it not gloriously?

Get. 'Tis a fine May-game;
But eating and drinking I think are forbad in't,
(I mean, with leisure) we walk on, and feed
Like hungry Boys that haste to School; or as
We carried Fish to the City, dare stay no where,
For fear our ware should stink.

1 Guard. That's the necessity
Of our speedy March.

Get. Sir, I do love my ease,
And though I hate all Seats of Judicature,
I mean in the City, for conveniency,
I still will be a Justice in the War,
And ride upon my foot-cloth. I hope a Captain
(And a gown'd-Captain too) may be dispenc'd with.
I tell you, and do not mock me, when I was poor,
I could endure like others, cold and hunger;
But since I grew rich, let but my finger ake,
Or feel but the least pain in my great Toe,
Unless I have a Doctor, mine own Doctor,
That may assure me, I am gone.

Nig. Come, fear not;
You shall want nothing.

1 Guard. We will make you fight,
As you were mad.

Get. Not too much of fighting, friend;
It is thy trade, that art a common Souldier;
We Officers, by our place, may share the spoil,
And never sweat for't.

2 Guard. You shall kill for practice
But your dozen or two a day.

Get. Thou talkst as if
Thou wert lousing thy self; but yet I will make danger,
If I prove one of the Worthies, so; However,
I'll have the fear of the gods before my eyes,
And do no hurt I warrant you.

Nig. Come, march on,
And humour him for our mirth.

1 Guard. 'Tis a fine peak-Goose.

Nig. But one that fools to the Emperour, and in that,
A wise man, and a Souldier.

1 Guard. True morality. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Enter Cosroe, Cassana, Persians; and Charinus, Maximinian, Aurelia, bound, with Souldiers.

Cos. Now by the Persian gods, most truly welcome,
Encompass'd thus with tributary Kings,
I entertain you. Lend your helping hands
To seat her by me; and thus rais'd, bow all
To do her honour; O my best Cassana,
Sister, and Partner of my Life and Empire,
We'll teach thee to forget with present pleasures
Thy late Captivity; and this proud Roman,
That us'd thee as a Slave, and did disdain
A Princely Ransome, shall, if she repine,
Be forc'd by various Tortures, to adore
What she of late contemn'd.

Cas. All greatness ever
Attend Cosroe; though Persia be styl'd
The Nurse of Pomp and Pride, we'll leave to Rome
Her native Cruelty. For know, Aurelia,
A Roman Princess, and a Cæsars Sister
Though late, like thee captiv'd, I can forget
Thy barbarous usage; and though thou to me
(When I was in thy power) didst shew thy self,
A most insulting Tyranness, I to thee
May prove a gentle Mistriss.

Aur. O my Stars,
A Mistriss? can I live and owe that name
To flesh and blood? I was born to command,
Train'd up in Soveraignty; and I, in death
Can quit the name of Slave; she that scorns life,
May mock Captivity.

Char. Rome will be Rome
When we are nothing; and her power's the same
Which you once quak'd at.

Max. Dioclesian lives;
Hear it and tremble; Lives (thou King of Persia)
The Master of his Fortune, and his Honour;
And though by devilish arts we were surpriz'd,
And made the prey of Magick and of Theft,
And not won nobly, we shall be redeem'd,
And by a Roman War; and every wrong
We suffer here, with interest, be return'd
On the insulting doer.

1 Per. Sure these Romans
Are more than men.

2 Per. Their great hearts will not yield,
They cannot bend to any adverse Fate,
Such is their Confidence.

Cos. They then shall break.
Why, you rebellious Wretches, dare you still
Contend when the last breath, or nod of mine
Marks you out for the fire? or to be made
The prey of Wolves or Vulturs? the vain name
Of Roman Legions, I slight thus, and scorn;
And for that boasted bug bear, Dioclesian,
(Which you presume on) would he were the master
But of the spirit, to meet me in the field,
He soon should find that our immortal Squadrons,
That with full numbers ever are supply'd,
(Could it be possible they should decay)
Dare front his boldest Troops, and scatter him,
As an high towring Falcon on her stretches,
Severs the fearful fowl. And by the Sun,
The Moon, the Winds, the nourishers of life,
And by this Sword, the instrument of death,
Since that you fly not humbly to our mercy
But yet dare hope your liberty by force;
If Dioclesian dare not attempt
To free you with his Sword, all slavery
That cruelty can find out to make you wretched,
Falls heavy on you.

Max. If the Sun keep his course,
And the Earth can bear his Souldiers march, I fear not.

Aur. Or liberty, or revenge.

Char. On that I build too. [A Trumpet.

Aur. A Roman Trumpet!

Max. 'Tis; comes it not like
A pardon to a man condemn'd?

Cos. Admit him.

The purpose of thy coming?

Nig. My great Master,
The Lord of Rome, (in that all Power is spoken)
Hoping that thou wilt prove a noble Enemy,
And (in thy bold resistance) worth his conquest,
Defies thee, Cosroe.

Max. There is fire in this.

Nig. And to encourage thy laborious powers
To tug for Empire, dares thee to the field,
With this assurance, if thy Sword can win him,
Or force his Legions with thy barbed horse,
But to forsake their ground, that not alone
Wing'd Victory shall take stand on thy Tent,
But all the Provinces, and Kingdoms held
By the Roman Garrisons in this Eastern World,
Shall be deliver'd up, and he himself
Acknowledge thee his Sovereign. In return
Of this large offer, he asks only this,
That till the doubtful Die of War determine
Who has most power, and should command the other,
Thou wouldst entreat thy Prisoners like their Births,
And not their present Fortune; and to bring 'em,
Guarded, into thy Tent, with thy best strengths,
Thy ablest men of War, and thou thy self
Sworn to make good the place. And if he fail
(Maugre all opposition can be made)
In his own person to compel his way,
And fetch them safely off, the day is thine,
And he, like these, thy Prisoner.

Cos. Though I receive this
But as a Roman Brave, I do embrace it,
And love the sender. Tell him, I will bring
My Prisoners to the field, and without odds,
Against his single force, alone defend 'em;
Or else with equal numbers. Courage, noble Princes,
And let Posterity record, that we
This memorable day restor'd to Persia,
That Empire of the World, great Philip's Son,
Ravish'd from us, and Greece gave up to Rome.
This our strong comfort, that we cannot fall
Ingloriously, since we contend for all. [Exeunt.
[Flourish. Alarms.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

SCENE IV.

SCENE V.