The Project Gutenberg eBook of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (6 of 10):, by Francis Beaumont; John Fletcher.

Unc. Nay Nephew.

Tut. Pupill, hear but reason.

On. No, I have none, and will hear none; oh my honor
My honor blasted in the bud, my youth,
My hopeful youth, and all my expectation
Ever to be a man, are lost for ever.

Unc. Why Nephew, we as well as you are dub'd
Knights of the Pantofle.

Tut. And are shouted at,
Kick'd, scorn'd, and laugh'd at by each Page and Groom,
Yet with erected heads we bear it.

Onos. Alas,
You have years, and strength to do it; but were you
(As I) a tender gristle, apt to bow,
You would like me, with Cloaks envelloped,
Walk thus, then stamp, then stare.

Unc. He will run mad
I hope, and then all's mine.

Tut. Why look you Pupil,
There are for the recovery of your honor
Degrees of Medicines; for a tweak by the Nose
A man's to travel but six months, then blow it
And all is well again: the Bastinado
Requires a longer time, a year or two,
And then 'tis buried: I grant you have been baffl'd,
'Tis but a journey of some thirty years
And it will be forgotten.

Onos. Think you so?

Tut. Assuredly.

Unc. He may make a shorter cut,
But hang or drown himself, and on my life
'Twill no more trouble him.

Onos. I could ne'r endure
Or Hemp or Water, they are dangerous tools
For youth to deal with: I will rather follow
My Tutors counsel.

Tut. Do so.

Onos. And put in
For my security, that I'll not return
In thirty years, my whole 'state to my Uncle.

Unc. That I like well of.

On. Still provided Uncle,
That at my coming home you will allow me
To be of age, that I may call to account
This Page that hath abus'd me.

U[n]c. 'Tis a match.

On. Then Corinth, thus the bashful Lamprias
Takes leave of thee: and for this little time
Of thirty years, will labour all he can,
Though he goes young forth, to come home a man. [Ex.

Scæna Quarta.

Euph. Are your Prisoners ready?

Mar. When it shall please the Queen
To call them forth my Lord.

Euph. Pray you do me the favour
To tell me how they have born themselves this night
Of their imprisonment?

Mar. Gladly Sir; your Brother
With the other Courtiers willingly receiv'd
All courtesies I could offer; eat, and drank,
And were exceeding merry, so dissembling
Their guilt, or confident in their innocence,
That I much wondred at it. But the Prince,
That (as born highest) should have grac'd his fall
With greatest courage, is so sunk with sorrow,
That to a common judgement he would seem
To suffer like a Woman: but to me,
That from the experience I have had of many
Look further in him, I do find the deep
Consideration of what's past, more frights him
Than any other punishment.

Euph. That is indeed
True magnanimity: the other but
A desperate bastard valour.

Mar. I pressed to him,
And notwithstanding the Queens strict command,
(Having your Lordships promise to secure me)
Offer'd to free him from his bonds, which he
Refus'd, with such a sorrow, mixt with scorn
That it amaz'd me; yet I urg'd his Highness
To give one Reason for't: he briefly answer'd,
That he had sate in judgement on himself,
And found that he deserv'd them: that he was
A Ravisher, and so to suffer like one,
Which is the reason of my tears: he addeth,
For wer't not I again should break the Laws,
By scorning all their rigor can inflict,
I should dye smiling.

Euph. I forbear to wonder
That you were mov'd that saw this: I am struck
With the relation so. 'Tis very well;
See all things ready. I do wish I could
Send comfort to the Prince; be ready with him;
'Tis in the Queens breast only which for us [Bar brought in.
To search into were sauciness, to determine
What she thinks fit.

Enter Leonidas with Merione (in white) Euphanes with Beliza (in black) Queen, Agenor, Conon, Marshal, with Thea[n]or, Crates, Sosicles, Eraton, Lords, Ladies, Guard.

Lord. Make way there for the Queen.

Quee. Read first the Law, and what our Ancestors
Have in this case provided to deter
Such like offenders: To you gentle Ladies
This only, Would I could as well give comfort,
As bid [you] be secure from fear or doubt
Of our displeasure: be as confident
As if your plea were 'gainst a common man,
To have all right from us; I will not grieve
For what's not worth my pitty: Read the Law.

Qu. You hear this: what do you demand?

Mer. The benefit
The Law allows me.

Bel. For the injury
Done to mine Honor, I require his head.

Mer. I likewise have an eye upon mine Honor,
But knowing that his death cannot restore it
I ask him for my Husband.

Bel. I was ravish'd,
And will have justice.

Mer. I was ravish'd too,
I kneel for mercy.

Bel. I demand but what
The Law allows me.

Mer. That which I desire
Is by the same Law warranted.

Bel. The Rape
On me hath made a forfeit of his life,
Which in revenge of my disgrace I plead for.

Mer. The Rape on me gives me the priviledge
To be his Wife, and that is all I sue for.

Age. A doubtful case.

Leo. Such pretty Lawyers, yet
I never saw nor read of.

Euph. May the Queen
Favour your sweet plea, Madam.

Bel. Is that justice?
Shall one that is to suffer for a Rape
Be by a Rape defended? Look upon
The publick enemy of chastity,
This lustful Satyr, whose enrag'd desires
The ruine of one wretched Virgins honor
Would not suffice; and shall the wrack of two
Be his protection? May be I was ravish'd
For his lust only, thou for his defence;
O fine evasion! shall with such a slight
Your Justice be deluded? your Laws cheated?
And he that for one fact deserv'd to die,
For sinning often, find impunity?
But that I know thee I would swear thou wert
A false Impostor, and suborn'd to this;
And it may be thou art Merione:
For hadst thou suffer'd truly what I have done,
Thou wouldst like me complain, and call for vengeance,
And our wrongs being equal, I alone
Should not desire revenge: But be it so,
If thou prevail, even he will punish it,
And foolish mercy shew'd to him undo thee,
Consider, fool, before it be too late,
What joys thou canst expect from such a Husband,
To whom thy first, and what's more, forc'd embraces,
Which men say heighten pleasure, were distastful.

Mer. 'Twas in respect, that then they were unlawful,
Unbless'd by Hymen, and left stings behind them,
Which from the marriage-bed are ever banish'd.
Let this Court be then the image of Joves throne,
Upon which grace and mercy still attend,
To intercede between him and his Justice;
And since the Law allows as much to me
As she can challenge, let the milder sentence,
Which best becomes a Mother, and a Queen
Now overcome; nor let your wisdom suffer
In doing right to her, I in my wrong
Indure a second Ravishment.

Bel. You can free him
Only from that which does concern your self,
Not from the punishment that's due to me:
Your injuries you may forgive, not mine;
I plead mine own just wreak, which will right both,
Where that which you desire robs me of justice;
'Tis that which I appeal to.

Mer. Bloody Woman,
Dost thou desire his punishment? Let him live then;
For any man to marry where he likes not
Is still a lingring torment.

Bel. For one Rape
One death's sufficient, that way cannot catch me.

Mer. To you I fly then, to your mercy Madam,
Exempting not your Justice, be but equal;
And since in no regard I come behind her,
Let me not so be undervalu'd in
Your Highness favor, that the world take notice
You so preferr'd her, that in her behalf
You kill'd that Son, you would not save for me;
Mercy, O mercy Madam.

Bel. Great Queen, justice.

Leo. Yet how unmov'd she sits
In that which most concerns her!

Con. Now she rises;
And having well weigh'd both their arguments,
Resolves to speak.

Euph. And yet again she pauses;
O Conon, such a resolution once
A Roman told me he had seen in Cato
Before he kill'd himself.

Qu. 'Tis now determin'd.
Merione, I could wish I were no Queen,
To give you satisfaction; no Mother
Beliza, to content you; and would part,
Even with my being, both might have their wishes;
But since that is impossible, in few words
I will deliver what I am resolved on:
The end for which all profitable Laws
Were made, looks two ways only, the reward
Of innocent good men, and the punishment
Of bad Delinquents: Ours, concerning Rapes,
Provided that same latter [clause] of Marriage
For him that had fall'n once, not then foreseeing
Mankind could prove so monstrous, to tread twice
A path so horrid. The great Law-giver
Draco, That for his strange severity
Was said to write his stern Decrees in blood,
Made none for Parricides, presuming that
No man could be so wicked; Such might be
Lycurgus answer (did he live) for this.
But since I find that in my [Sonne], which was not
Doubted in any else, I will add to it;
He cannot marry both, but for both dying,
Both have their full revenge: You see Beliza
You have your wish; with you Merione
I'll spend a tear or two, so Heaven forgive thee.

The. Upon my knees I do approve your judgement,
And beg that you would put it into act
With all speed possible; only that I may,
Having already made peace with my self,
Part so with all the world: Princely Agenor
I ask your pardon; yours my Lord Euphanes;
And Crates with the rest too, I forgive you;
Do you the like for me: Yours, gracio[u]s Mother,
I dare not ask, and yet if that my death
Be like a Son of yours, though my life was not,
Perhaps you may vouchsafe it: Lastly, that
Both these whom I have wrong'd, may wish my ashes
No heavy burden, e'r I suffer death,
For the restoring of Meriones honor,
Let me be married to her, and then dye
For you Beliza.

Qu. Thou hast made in this
Part of amends to me, and to the world,
Thy suit is granted, call a Flamyn forth
To do this holy work; with him a Headsman.

Raise up thy weeping eyes Merione,
With this hand I confirm thy Marriage,
Wishing that now the gods would shew some miracle,
That this might not divorce it.

Cra. To that purpose
I am their Minister, stand not amaz'd,
To all your comforts I will do this wonder,
Your Majesty (with your pardon I must speak it)
Allow'd once heretofore of such a Contract,
Which you repenting afterwards, revok'd it,
Being fully bent to match her with Agenor,
The griev'd Prince knowing this, and yet not daring
To cross what you determin'd, by an oath
Bound me and these his followers to do something
That he might once enjoy her, we swore to it,
And easily perswaded, being assur'd
She was his Wife before the face of Heaven,
Although some ceremonious forms were wanting,
Committed the first Rape, and brought her to him,
Which broke the Marriage; but when we perceiv'd
He purpos'd to abuse our ready service
In the same kind: upon the chaste Beliza,
Holding our selves less ty'd to him than goodness;
I made discovery of it to my Brother,
Who can relate the rest.

Euph. It is most true.

Qu. I would it were:

Euph. In every circumstance
It is upon my soul: For this known to me,
I wan Merione in my Ladies habit,
To be again (but willingly) surpriz'd,
But with Agenor, and her noble Brother,
With my approv'd friend Conon, with such speed
She was pursu'd, that the lewd act scarce ended,
The Prince (assur'd he had enjoy'd Beliza,
For all the time Meriones face was cover'd)
Was apprehended and brought to your presence,
But not till now discover'd, in respect
I hop'd the imminent danger of the Prince,
To which his loose unquenched heats had brought him,
Being pursu'd unto the latest tryal
Would work in him compunction, which it has done;
And these two Ladies in their feign'd contentions,
To your delight I hope have serv'd as Maskers
To their own Nuptials.

Qu. My choice was worthy
When first I look'd on thee, as thou hast order'd
All shall be done, and not the meanest that
Plaid in this unexpected Comedy,
But shall pertake our bounty: And my Lord,
That with the rest you may seem satisfi'd,
If you dare venture on a Queen, not yet
So far in debt to years, but that she may
Bring you a lusty Boy, I offer up
My self and Kingdom, during my life to you.

Ag. It is a blessing which I durst not hope for,
But with all joy receive.

All. We all applaud it.

Qu. Then on unto the Temple, where the rights
Of Marriage ended, we'll find new delights. [Exeunt.

BONDUCA,

Actus Primus. Scæna Prima.

Bon. The hardy Romans? O ye gods of Britain,
The rust of Arms, the blushing shame of soldiers;
Are these the men that conquer by inheritance!
The Fortune-makers? these the Julians.

That with the Sun measure the end of Nature,
Making the World but one Rome and one Cæsar?
Shame, how they flee! Cæsars soft soul dwells in 'em;
Their Mothers got 'em sleeping, Pleasure nurst 'em,
Their Bodies sweat with sweet Oils, Loves allurements,
Not lustie Arms. Dare they send these to seek us,
These Roman Girls? Is Britain grown so wanton?
Twice we have beat 'em, Nennius scatter'd 'em,
And through their big-bon'd Germans, on whose Pikes
The honour of their actions sit in triumph,
Made Themes for Songs to shame 'em, and a Woman,
A Woman beat 'em, Nennius; a weak Woman,
A Woman beat these Romans.

Car. So it seems.
A man would shame to talk so.

Bon. Who's that?

Car. I.

Bon. Cosin, do you grieve at my fortunes?

Car. No, Bonduca,
If I grieve, 'tis at the bearing of your fortunes;
You put too much wind to your sail: Discretion
And hardy valour are the twins of honour,
And nurs'd together, make a Conqueror:
Divided, but a talker. 'Tis a truth.
That Rome has fled before us twice, and routed;
A truth we ought to crown the gods for, Lady,
And not our tongues. A truth is none of ours,
Nor in our ends, more than the noble bearing:
For then it leaves to be a virtue, Lady;
And we that have been Victors, beat our selves,
When we insult upon our honors subject.

Bon. My valiant Cosin, is it foul to say
What liberty and honor bid us do,
And what the gods allow us?

Car. No, Bonduca,
So what we say exceed not what we do.
Ye call the Romans fearful, fleeing Romans,
And Roman Girls, the lees of tainted pleasures:
Does this become a doer? are they such?

Bon. They are no more.

Car. Where is your Conquest then?
Why are your Altars crown'd with wreaths of flowers,
The beasts with gilt horns waiting for the fire?
The holy Druides composing Songs
Of everlasting life to Victory?
Why are these triumphs, Lady? for a May-game?
For hunting a poor herd of wretched Romans?
Is it no more? shut up your Temples, Britains,
And let the Husbandman redeem his heifers;
Put out our holy fires; no Timbrel ring;
Let's home, and sleep; for such great overthrows;
A Candle burns too bright a sacrifice,
A Glow-worms tail too full of flame. O Nennius,
Thou hadst a noble Uncle knew a Roman,
And how to speak him, how to give him weight
In both his fortunes.

Bon. By —— I think
Ye doat upon these Romans, Caratach.

Car. Witness these wounds, I do; they were fairly given,
I love an enemy, I was born a Soldier;
And he that in the head on's Troop defies me,
Bending my manly Body with his sword,
I make a Mistriss. Yellow-tressed Hymen
Ne'r ty'd a longing Virgin with more joy,
Than I am married to that man that wounds me:
And are not all these Romans? Ten struck Battels
I suck'd these honour'd scars from, and all Roman:
Ten years of bitter nights and heavy marches,
When many a frozen storm sung thorow my Curasse,
And made it doubtful whether that or I
Were the more stubborn metall, have I wrought thorow,
And all to try these Romans. Ten times a night
I have swom the Rivers, when the Stars of Rome
Shot at me as I floated, and the billows
Tumbled their watry ruines on my shoulders,
Charging my batter'd sides with troops of Agues;
And still to try these Romans, whom I found
(And if I lye, my wounds be henceforth backward,
And be you witness, gods, and all my dangers)
As ready, and as full of that I brought
(Which was not fear nor flight) as valiant,
As vigilant, as wise, to do and suffer,
Ever advanced as forward as the Britains,
Their sleeps as short, their hopes as high as ours.
I, and as subtil, Lady. 'Tis dishonour,
And follow'd, will be impudence, Bonduca,
And grow to no belief, to taint these Romans.
Have not I seen the Britains—

Bond. What?

Car. Disheartned,
Run, run, Bonduca, not the quick rack swifter;
The Virgin from the hated Ravisher
Not half so fearful; not a flight drawn home.
A round stone from a sling, a Lovers wish
E'r made that haste that they have. By ——
I have seen these Britains, that you magnifie,
Run as they would have out-run time and roaring
Basely for mercy, roaring: the light shadows,
That in a thought scur o'r the fields of Corn,
Halted on crutches to 'em.

Bon. O ye Powers,
What scandals do I suffer!

Car. Yes, Bonduca,
I have seen thee run too, and thee, Nennius;
Yea, run apace, both; then when Penyus
The Roman Girl, cut thorow your armed Carts,
And drive 'em headlong on ye down the hill:
Then when he hunted ye like Britain-Foxes,
More by the scent than sight: then did I see
These valiant and approved men of Britain,
Like boading Owls, creep into tods of Ivie,
And hoot their fears to one another nightly.

Nen. And what did you then, Caratach?

Car. I fled too,
But not [so] fast; your Jewel had been lost then,
Young Hengo there; he trasht me, Nennius:
For when your fears out-run him, then stept I,
And in the head of all the Romans fury
Took him, and, with my tough Belt, to my back
I buckled him: behind him, my sure Shield;
And then I follow'd. If I say I fought
Five times in bringing off this bud of Britain,
I lye not, Nennius. Neither had ye heard
Me speak this, or ever seen the child more,
But that the Son of Virtue, Penyus
Seeing me steer thorow all these storms of danger,
My Helm still in my hand, my Sword my prow,
Turn'd to my foe my face, he cry'd out nobly,
Go Britain, bear thy Lions whelp off safely;
Thy manly sword has ransom'd thee: grow strong,
And let me meet thee once again in Arms;
Then if thou stand'st, thou art mine. I took his offer,
And here I am to honour him.

Bon. O Cousin,
From what a flight of honour hast thou checkt me!
What wouldst thou make me, Caratach?

Car. See, Lady,
The noble use of others in our losses:
Does this afflict ye? Had the Romans cry'd this,
And as we have done theirs, sung out these fortunes,
Rail'd on our base condition, hooted at us,
Made marks as far as the earth was ours, to shew us
Nothing but sea could stop our flights; despis'd us,
And held it equal, whether banqueting
Or beating of the Britains were more business,
It would have gall'd ye.

Bon. Let me think we conquer'd.

Car. Do; but so think, as we may be conquer'd:
And where we have found virtue, though in those
That came to make us slaves, let's cherish it.
There's not a blow we gave since Julius landed,
That was of strength and worth, but like records,
They file to after-ages. Our Registers,
The Romans, are for noble deeds of honour;
And shall we burn their mentions with upbraidings?

Bon. No more, I see my self: thou hast made me, Cousin,
More than my fortunes durst, for they abus'd me,
And wound me up so high, I swell'd with glory:
Thy temperance has cur'd that Tympany,
And given me health again, nay, more discretion.
Shall we have peace? for now I love these Romans.

Car. Thy love and hate are both unwise ones, Lady.

Bon. Your reason?

Nen. Is not peace the end of Arms?

Car. Not where the cause implies a general conquest:
Had we a difference with some petty Isle,
Or with our neighbors (Lady) for our Land-marks,
The taking in of some rebellious Lord,
Or making a head against Commotions,
After a day of Blood, Peace might be argued:
But where we grapple for the ground we live on,
The Liberty we hold as dear as life,
The gods we worship, and next those, our Honors,
And with those swords that know no end of Battel:
Those men beside themselves allow no neighbor;
Those minds that where the day is, claim inheritance,
And where the Sun makes ripe the fruits, their harvest,
And where they march, but measure out more ground
To add to Rome, and here i'th' bowels on us;
It must not be; no, as they are our foes,
And those that must be so until we tire 'em,
Let's use the peace of Honor, that's fair dealing,
But in our ends, our swords. That hardy Romane
That hopes to graft himself into my stock,
Must first begin his kindred under-ground,
And be alli'd in ashes.

Bon. Caratach,
As thou hast nobly spoken, shall be done;
And Hengo to thy charge I here deliver:
The Romans shall have worthy Wars.

Car. They shall.
And, little Sir, when your young bones grow stiffer,
And when I see ye able in a morning
To beat a dozen boys, and then to breakfast,
I'll tye ye to a sword.

Heng. And what then Uncle?

Car. That's a noble boy. Come, worthy Lady,
Let's to our several charges, and henceforth
Allow an enemy both weight and worth. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Pet. What ail'st thou, man? dost thou want meat?

Jun. No.

Pet. Clothes?

Jun. Neither. For heavens love, leave me.

Pet. Drink?

Jun. Ye tire me.

Pet. Come, 'tis drink; I know 'tis drink.

Jun. Tis no drink.

Pet. I say 'tis drink: for what affliction
Can light so heavy on a Soldier,
To dry him up as thou art, but no drink?
Thou shalt have drink.

Jun. Prethee Petillius—

Pet. And by mine honor, much drink, valiant drink:
Never tell me, thou shalt have drink. I see,
Like a true friend, into thy wants: 'tis drink;
And when I leave thee to a desolation,
Especially of that dry nature, hang me.

Jun. Why do you [do] this to me?

Pet. For I see,
Although your modesty would fain conceal it,
Which sits as sweetly on a Soldier,
As an old side-saddle.

Jun. What do you see?

Pet. I see as far as day, that thou want'st drink.
Did I not find thee gaping like an Oyster
For a new tide? thy very thoughts lie bare
Like a low ebb? thy Soul that rid in Sack,
Lies moor'd for want of liquor? Do but see
Into thy self; for by —— I do:
For all thy body's chapt and crackt like timber
For want of moisture, what is't thou wantst there, Junius,
And if it be not drink?

Jun. You have too much on't.

Pet. It may be a whore too; say it be; come, meecher,
Thou shalt have both, a pretty valiant fellow,
Die for a little lap and lechery?
No, it shall ne'r be said in our Countrey,
Thou dy'dst o'th' Chin-cough. Hear, thou noble Roman,
The Son of her that loves a Soldier,
Hear what I promised for thee; thus I said,
Lady, I take thy Son to my companion,
Lady, I love thy son, thy Son loves War,
The war loves danger, danger drink, drink discipline,
Which is society and lechery;
These two beget Commanders: fear not, Lady,
Thy Son shall lead.

Jun. 'Tis a strange thing, Petillius,
That so ridiculous and loose a mirth
Can master your affections.

Petil. Any mirth,
And any way, of any subject, Junius,
Is better than unmanly mustiness:
What harm's in drink, in a good wholsome wench?
I do beseech ye, Sir, what error? yet
It cannot out of my head handsomely,
But thou wouldst fain be drunk: come, no more fooling,
The General has new wine, new come over.

Jun. He must have new acquaintance for it too,
For I will none, I thank ye.

Pet. None I thank ye?
A short and touchie answer. None I thank ye:
Ye do not scorn it, do ye?

Jun. Gods defend, Sir;
I owe him still more honor.

Pet. None, I thank ye:
No company, no drink, no wench, I thank ye.
Ye shall be worse intreated, Sir.

Jun. Petillius,
As thou art honest, leave me.

Pet. None, I thank ye;
A modest and a decent resolution,
And well put on. Yes, I will leave ye, Junius,
And leave ye to the boys, that very shortly
Shall all salute ye, by your new sirname
Of Junius None I thank ye. I would starve now,
Hang, drown, despair, deserve the forks, lie open
To all the dangerous passes of a wench,
Bound to believe her tears, and wed her aches,
E'r I would own thy follies. I have found ye,
Your lays, and out-leaps Junius, haunts, and lodges:
I have view'd ye, and I have found ye by my skill
To be a fool o'th' first head, Junius,
And I will hunt ye: ye are in love, I know it:
Ye are an ass, and all the Camp shall know it.
A peevish idle boy; your Dame shall know it;
[A wronger of my care; your self shall know it.]