The Project Gutenberg eBook of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (7 of 10), by Francis Beaumont; John Fletcher.

Phil. Speak woman, if any interruption meet thee more,
It shall be punish'd sharply.

Gill. Good my Liege, (I dare not)
Ask you the question why that old man weeps.

Phil. Who? Count Julio? I observ'd it not.
You hear the question Sir, will you give the cause?

Jul. Oh my Lord, it hardly will get passage,
It is a sorrow of that greatness grown,
'Less it dissolve in tears, and come by parcels.

Gill. I'll help you Sir, in the delivery,
And bring you forth a joy. You lost a daughter.

Jul. 'Twas that recounted thought brought forth these sorrows.

Gill. Shee's found again. Know you this mantle Sir?

Jul. Hah?

Gill. Nay leave your wonder, I'll explain it to you.
This did enwrap your child, whom ever since
I have call'd mine, when Nurse Amaranta
In a remove from Mora to Corduba
Was seiz'd on by a fierce and hungry Bear,
She was the Ravins prey, as heaven so would,
He with his booty fill'd, forsook the babe:
All this was in my sight: and so long I saw,
Untill the cruel creature left my sight,
At which advantage I adventur'd me
To rescue the sweet Lamb: I did it Sir,
And ever since I have kept back your joy,
And made it mine: but age hath wearied me,
And bids me back restore unto the owner
What I unjustly kept these fourteen years.

Jul. Oh, thou hast ta'n so many years from me,
And made me young as was her birth day to me.
Oh (good my Liege) give my joys a pardon,
I must go power a blessing on my child,
Which here would be too rude and troublesome. [Exit.

Phil. Franio, you knew this before.

Bust. Oh, oh; Item for you Miller.

Fra. I did (my Liege) I must confess I did,
And I confess, I ne'r would have confess'd,
Had not that womans tongue begun to me:
We poor ones love, and would have comforts, Sir,
As well as great: this is no strange fault, Sir,
There's many men keep other mens children
As though they were their own.

Gill. I, I Boy: thou art mine own flesh and blood,
Born of mine own body.

Phil. Here comes the brightest glory of the day:
Love yoak'd with love, the best equality,
Without the level of estate or person.

Jul. You both shall be rewarded bountifully,
Wee'll be akin too; Brother and Sister
Shall be chang'd with us ever.

Bust. 'Tis lawful now, she's none of my Sister.
It was a Miller and a Lord
That had a scabbard and a sword
He put it up in the Countrey word
The Miller and his daughter.
She has a face, and she can sing,
She has a Grace, and she can spring,
She has a place with another thing
Tradoodle.

Bust. Then (Tailor) march with me away
I scorn these robes I must be gay,
My noble Brother he shall pay
Tom Tailor. [Exeunt.

Phil. Your recovered friendships are sound, Gentlemen?

Bel. At heart, at heart (my Lord) the worm shall not
Beyond many ages find a breach to enter at.

Phil. These Lovers unities I will not doubt of:
How happy have you made our progress then,
To be the witness of such fair Accords!
Come, now we'll eat with you (my Lord Otrante,)
'Tis a charge sav'd: you must not grudge your guest,
'Tis both my welcome, and your Wedding-Feast. [Exeunt.

The Knight of Malta.

The Persons Represented in the Play.

WOMEN.

The Scene Malta.

Actus Primus. Scæna Prima.

Mount. DAres she dispise me thus? me that with spoil
And hazardous exploits, full sixteen years
Have led (as hand-maids) Fortune, Victory
Whom the Maltezi call my servitors?
Tempests I have subdued, and fought them calm,
Out-lighten'd lightning in my Chivalry;
Rid (tame as patience) billows that kick'd heaven,
Whistl'd enraged Boreas till his gusts
Were grown so gentle, that he seem'd to sigh,
Because he could not show the ayr my keel,
And yet I cannot conquer her bright eyes,
Which though they blaze both comfort, and invite
Neither by force, nor fraud pass through her ear
(Whose guard is only blushing Innocence)
To take the least possession of her heart,
Did I attempt her with a thred-bare name—unapt with meritorious actions,
She might with colour dis-allow my suit:
But by the honor of this Christian cross
(In blood of Infidels so often dy'd)
Which mine own Soul and Sword hath fixed here
And neither favor, nor births priviledge
Oriana shall confess, although she be
Valettas Sister our Grand-master here,
The wages of scorn'd Love is baneful hate,
And if I rule not her, I'le rule her fate.
Rocca, my trusty Servant, welcome.

Roc. Sir,
I wish my news deserv'd it: hapless I
That being lov'd, and trusted fail to bring
The loving answer that you do expect.

Mount. Why speak'st thou from me: thy pleas'd eyes send forth
Beams brighter than the star that ushers day,
Thy smiles, restore sick expectation.

Roc. I bring you Sir, her smiles, not mine.

Mount. Her smiles?
Why they are presents for Kings eldest Sons,
Great Solyman that wearies his hot eyes,
But to peruse his deck'd Seraglio,
When from the number of his Concubines
He chooseth one for that night in his pride
Of them, wives, wealth, is not so rich as I
In this one smile, from Oriana sent.

Roc. Sir, fare ye well.

Mount. Oh Rocca! thou art wise,
And woul[d]'st not have the torrent of my joy
Ruine me headlong; aptly thou conceiv'st
If one reviving smile can raise me thus,
What trances will the sweet words which thou bring'st
Cast me into? I felt (my dearest friend,
No more my Servant) when I imployed thee
That knew'st to look, and speak as Lovers should,
And carry faithfully thy Masters sighs,
That it must work some heat in her cold heart,
And all my labors now come fraughted home
With ten fold prize.

Roc. Will you yet hear me?

Mount. Yes,
But take heed (gentle Rocca) that thou do'st
Tenderly by degrees assault mine ears
With her consent, now to embrace my love,
For thou well know'st I have been so plung'd, so torn
With her resolv'd reject, and neglect:
That to report her soft acceptance now,
Will stupifie sense in me, if not kill:
Why shew'st thou this distemper?

Roc. Draw your sword,
And when I with my breath have blasted you,
Kill me with it:
I bring you smiles of pitty, not affection:
For such she sent.

Mount. Oh! can she pitty me?
Of all the paths lead to a womans love,
Pitties the streightest.

Roc. Waken Sir, and know
That her contempt (if you can name it so)
Continues still: she bids you throw your Pearl
Into strong streams, and hope to turn them so,
Ere her too foul dishonor, writ[e] your plaints
In rocks of Coral grow'n above the Sea,
Them hope to soften to compassion,
Or change their modest blush to love sick pale,
Ere work her to your impious requests;
All your loose thoughts she chides you home again,
But with such calm behaviour, and mild looks,
She gentlier denies than others grant,
For just as others love so doth she hate:
She says, that by your order you are bound
From marrying ever, and much marvels then
You would thus violate her and your own faith,
That being the virgin you should now protect,
Hitherto she professes she has conceal'd
Your lustful Batteries, but the next she vowes,
(In open Hall, before the honor'd cross
And her great Brother) she will quite disclose
Calling for justice, to your utter shame.

Mount. Hence, find the Blackamore that waits upon her,
Bring her unto me, she doth love me yet,
And I must her now, at least seem to do:
Cupid, thy brands that glow thus in my veins,
I will with blood extinguish—ar't not gone?
Shall my desires, like beggars wait at dore
Whil'st any others revel in her breast?
Sweat on my spirits: know thou trickt up toy,
My love's a violent flood, where art thou faln,
Playing with which tide thou'dst been gently toss'd,
But crossing it, thou art or'whelm'd, and lost.

Cast. Monsieur, good day.

Ast. Good morrow valiant Knight,
What, are you for this great solemnity
This morn intended?

Mount. What solemnity?

Ast. The investing of the Martial Spaniard,
Peter Gomera, with our Christian Badge.

Cast. And young Miranda the Italian,
Both which with wondrous prowess, and great luck
Have dar'd and done for Malta, such high feats,
That not one Fort in it, but rings their names
As loud as any mans.

Mount. As any mans?
Why, we have fought for Malta.

Ast. Yes Mountferrat.
No bold Knight ever past you, but we wear
The dignity of Christians on our breasts,
And have a long time triumph'd for our conquests;
These conquer'd a long time, not triumph'd yet.

Mount. Astori[u]s, you are a most indulgent Knight,
Detracting from your self, to add to others,
You know this title is the period
To all our labors, the extremity
Of that tall pyramid, where hon[ou]r hangs,
Which we with sweat and agony have reach'd,
And should not then so easily impart
So bright a wreath to every cheap desert.

Cast. How is this French man chang'd Astorius!
Some sullen discontent possesses him,
That makes him envy, what he heretofore
Did most ingeniously but emulate.

Mount. Oh furious desire, how like a whirl-wind
Thou hurriest me beyond mine honors point!
Out of my heart, base lust, or heart, I vow
Those flames that heat me thus, I'll burn thee in.

Ast. Do' ye observe him?

Mount. What news of the Dane,
That valiant Captain Norandine?

Cast. He fights still,
In view oth' Town; he playes the devil with 'em,
And they the Turks with him.

Mount. They'r well met then, 'twere sin to sever 'em
Pish—woman.—Memory—
Would one of ye would leave me:

Ast. Six fresh Gallies
I in St. Angelo from the promontory
This morne descride, making a Girdle for him,
But our great Master doth intend relief
This present meeting: will you walk along?

Mount. Humh—I have read, Ladies enjoy'd, have been
The gulphs of worthiest men, buried their names,
Their former valor, bounty, beauty, virtue,
And sent 'em stinking to untimely graves.
I that cannot enjoy, by her disdain,
Am like to prove as wretched; woman then
Checking or granting, is the grave of men.

Ast. He's saying of his prayers sure.

Cast. Will you go Sir?

Mount. I cry you mercy: I am so transported
(Your pardon, noble Brothers) with a business
That doth concern all Malta, that I am
(Anon you'l hear't) almost blind, and deaf.
Lust neither sees nor hears ought but it self:
But I will follow instantly: your cross.

Ast. Not mine. [dropt.

Cast. Nor mine, 'tis yours.

Ast. Cast. Good morrow Brother. [Exeunt.

Mount. White innocent sign, thou do'st abhor to dwell,
So near the dim thoughts of this troubled breast,
[And grace these graceless projects of my heart.]

Yet I must wear thee to protect my crimes,
If not for conscience, for hypocrisie,
Some Churchmen so wear Cassocks: Oh my Zan.
My Pearl, that scornes a stain! I mu[ch] repent
All my neglect: let me Ixion like,
Embrace my black cloud, since my Juno is
So wrathful, and averse; thou art more soft
And full of dalliance than the fairest flesh,
And far more loving.

Zan. I, you say so now,
But like a property, when I have serv'd
Your turns, you'll cast me off, or hang me up
For a sign, somewhere.

Mount. May my life then forsake me
Or from my expected bliss, be cast to hell.

Zan. My tongue Sir, cannot lisp to meet you so,
Nor my black cheeck put on a feigned blush,
To make me seem more modest than I am.
This ground-work, will not bear adulterate red,
Nor artificial white, to cozen love.
These dark locks, are not purchas'd, nor these teeth,
For every night, they are my bed-fellows;
No bath, no blanching water; smoothing oyles,
Doth mend me up; and yet Mountferrat, know,
I am as full of pleasure in the touch
As ere a white fac'd puppet of 'em all,
Juicy, and firm, unfledge 'em of their tyres,
Their wires, their partlets; pins, and Periwigs,
And they appear like bald cootes, in the nest;
I can as blithly work in my loves bed,
And deck thy fair neck, with these Jetty chains,
Sing thee asleep, being wearied, and refresh'd,
With the same organ, steal sleep off again.

Mount. Oh my black swan, sleeker then Cignets plush,
Sweeter than is the sweet of Pomander,
Breath'd like curl'd Zephyrus, cooling Lymon-trees,
Straight as young pines, or Cedars in the grove,
Quickly discend lovers best Canopie
Still night, for Zanthia doth enamour me
Beyond all continence perpetrate (deer wench)
What thou hast promis'd, and I vow by heaven
Malta, I'll leave [in it] my honours here,
And in some other Country (Zanthia) make
My wife, and my best fortune.

Zan. From this hope,
Here is an answer to that Letter, which
I lately shew'd you sent from Tripoly,
By the great Basha, which importunes her
Love unto him, and treachery to the Island,
Which will she undertake, by Mahomet
The Turk there vowes, on his blest Alcharon,
Marriage unto her: this the Master knows,
But is resolv'd of her integrity
(As well [he] may) sweet Lady yet for love,
For love of thee Mountferrat, (Oh! what Chains
Of deity, or duty can hold love?)
I have this answer fram'd, so like her hand
As if it had been moulded off: returning
The Bashas Letter safe into her pocket;
What will you do with it, your self best knows,
Farewel, keep my true heart, keep true your vows. [Exit Zan.

Mount. Till I be dust, my Zanthia be confirm'd.
Sparrows, and Doves, sit coupling twixt thy lips,
It is not love, but strong Libidinous will
That triumphs o're me, and to satiate that,
What difference twixt this Moore, and her fair Dame?
Night makes their hews alike, their use is so,
Whose hand is so subtle, he can colours name,
If he do winck, and touch 'em? lust being blind,
Never in women did distinction find. [Exit.

Scæna Secunda.

1. But yfaith dost thou think my Lady was never in love?

2. I rather think she was ever in love: in perfect charity. I mean, with all the world.

[1]. A most Christian answer I promise you: but I mean in Love with a man.

2. With a man? what else? would'st have her in love with a beast?

1. You are somewhat quick: but if she were, it were no President: did you never read of Europa, the fair, that leapt A bull, that leapt the Sea, that swoom to land, and then leapt her?

2. Oh heavens, a bull?

1. Yes, a white bull.

2. Lord, how could she sit him? where did she hold?

1. Why, by the horn, since which time, no woman (almost) is Contented, till she have a horn of her own, to hold by.

2. Thou art very knavish.

1. And thou very foolish: but sirah, why dost not thou marry?

2. Because I would be no mans looking-glase?

1. As how?

2. As thus, there is no Wife, if she be good, and true, will honor, and obey, but must reflect the true countenance of her husband upon him; if he look sad upon her she must not look merrily upon him: if he look merrily, she must not sorrowfully, else she is a false glass, and fit for nothing but breaking: his anger [must] be her discontent; his pleasure, her delight: if he weep, she must cry: if he laugh, she must show her teeth: if he be sick, she must not be in health; if he eat Cawdles, she must eat pottage, she must have no proper passion of her own; and is not this a tyranny?

1. Yes, yfaith, Marriage may well be called a yoak; Wives then are but like superficial lines in Geometry, that have no proper motion of their own, but as their bodies their husbands move, yet I know some Wives, that are never freely merry, nor truly pleased, but when they are farthest off their husbands.

2. That's because the Moon governs 'em which hath most light and shines brightest, the more remote it is from the Sun; and contrary is more sullen, dim, and showes least splendor, when it is neerest.

1. But if I were to marry I would marry a fair effeminate fool.

2. Why?

1. Because I would lead the blind whither I list.

2. And I the wisest man I could get for money, because I had rather follow the cleer-sighted: bless me from a husband That sales by his Wives compass!

1. Why?

2. Why 'tis ten to one but she breaks his head in her youth, and when she is old shee'l never leave till she has broke his back too—

But what scurvy Knight have you here in Malta, &c.

Zan. Hist, wenches: my Lady calls, she's entring
The Tarrase, to see the show.

1. Oh black pudding.

2. My little labor in vain.

1. But what scurvy Knights have we here in Malta, that
when they are dubd take their oath of allegiance to live poor,
and chastly ever after!

2. 'Faith many Knights in other Nations (I have heard)
are as poor as ours: marry where one of 'em has taken the
Oath of chastity, we want a new Columbus to find out. [Exeunt.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter (above) Oriana, Zanchia, two Gentlewomen, (beneath) Valetta, Mountferrat, Astorius, Castriot, Gomera, Miranda, Attendants of Knights, &c.

Mount. Are you there Lady?

Ori. Thou art a naughty Man,
Heaven mend thee.

Val. Our greet meeting princely brothers,
Ye holy Souldiers of the Christian Cross,
Is to relieve our Captain Norandine,
Now fighting for Valetta with the Turk,
A valliant Gentleman, a noble Dane
As ere the Countrey bred, endangered now
By fresh supply of head-bound Infidels.
Much means, much blood this warlike Dane hath spent
To advance our flag, above their horned moons,
And oft hath brought in profitable conquest:
We must not see him perish in our view:
How far off fight they?

Mir. Sir, within a League.

Val. 'Tis well: our next occasion of conventing
Are these [two] gentlemen, standing in your sight.
(Ye are noble props of Malta) royally
Descended are they both, valiant as war,
Miranda, and Gomera, full ten years
They have serv'd this Island, perfected exploits
Matchless, and infinite, they are honest, wise,
Not empty of one ornament of man:
Most eminent agents were they in that slaughter
That great marvelous slaughter of the Turks,
Before St. Elme, where five and twenty thousand
Fell, for five thousand of our Christians:
These ripe considerations moving us
(Having had your allowance on their worths)
Here we would call 'em to our Brotherhood;
If any therefore can their manners tax,
Their faith, their chastity, any part of life,
Let 'em speak now.

Ast. None do's.

All. None can, great Master.

Val. The dignity then dignifie, by them,
As their reward: tender Miranda first
(Because he is to succor Norandine)
Our sacred Robe of Knight-hood, our white Cross,
The holy cognizance of him we serve,
The sword, the spurs.

Mir. Grave, and most honor'd Master,
With humble duty, and my souls best thanks
To you, and all this famous Conventicle,
Let me, with modesty refuse acceptance
Of this high order: I (alass) am yet
Unworthy, and uncapable of such honor,
That merit, which with favor you enlarge
Is far, far short, of this propos'd reward.
Who take upon him such a charge as this,
Must come with pure thoughts, and a gathered mind
That time, nor all occasions ever may
After disperse, or stain; did this title here
Of Knighthood, ask no other ornaments
Then other Countries glittring show, poor pride,
A gingling spur, a feather, a white hand,
A frizled hayr, powder'd, perfumes, and lust,
Drinking sweet wines, surfeits, and ignorance,
Rashly, and easily should I venture on't,
But this requires an other kind of man.

Mount. A staid, and mature judgement; speak on sir.

Mir. May it please you then to allow me some small time
To rectifie my self, for that high seat,
Or give my reasons to the contrary.
Ith mean space, to dismiss me to the ayd
Of Norandine: my Ships ride in the bay
Ready to disembogue, tack'led, and mann'd
Even to my wishes.

Mount. His request
Is fair and honest.

Val. At your pleasure go.

Mir. I humbly take my leave of all: of you
My noble friend Mountferrat; gratious Mistriss,
Oh that auspitious smile doth arm your souldier,
Who fights for those eyes, and this sacred Cross,
Can neither meet sad accident, nor loss. [Exit.

Ori. The mighty master of that Livory,
Conduct thee safely to these eyes again.

Mount. Blowes the wind that way?

Val. Equally belov'd,
Equally meriting, Gomera, you
Without excuse receive that dignity:
Which our provincial chapter hath decreed you.

Gom. Great Master of Jerusalems Hospital,
From whence to Rhodes this blest Fraternity
Was driven, but now among the Maltois stands,
Long may it flourish, whilst Gomera serves it,
But dares not enter farther.

All. This is strange.

Val. What do ye object?

Gom. Nothing against it, but my self (fair Knights)
I may not wear this Robe.

Val. Express your reasons;
Doth any hid sin goar your conscience?

Ast. Are you unstedfast in Religion?

Cast. Or do ye intend to forsake Malta now,
And visit your own Countrey fruitful Spaine.

Gom. Never good sir.

Val. Then explicate your thoughts.

Gom. This then: I should be perjur'd to receive it,
Once in Melita, your next City here,
When I was yonger, read I the decrees
Touching this point, being ambitious then
To approach it once, none but a Gentleman
Can be admitted.

Val. That's no obstacle
In you.

Gom. I should be sorry that were it,
No married man.

Mount. You never felt that yoak.

Gom. None, that hath been contracted.

Cast. Were you ever?

Gom. Nor married, nor contracted, none that ever
Hath vowed his love to any woman kind,
Or finds that secret fire within his thoughts:
Here I am cast, this Article my heart
Objects against the title of my fame,
I am in love; laugh not: though time hath set
Some wrinkles in this face, and these curl'd locks
Will shortly dye into an other hew,
Yet, yet I am in love: (yfaith [you] smile)
What age, what sex, or what profession
Divine, or humane, from the man that cries
For Almes the high way, to him that sings
At the high Altar, and doth sacrifice,
Can truly say he knows not what is Love?

Val. 'Tis honestly profest; with whom Gomera?
Name the Lady, that with all [advantage]
We may advance your suit.

Gom. But will you Sir?

Val. Now by our holy rock were it our Sister:
Spaniard, I hold thee worthy, freely name her.

Gom. Be master of your word: it is she Sir,
The matchless Oriana.

Val. Come down Lady,
You have made her blush, let her consent I will
Make good my oath.

Mount. Is't so? stay: I do love
So tenderly Gomera your bright flame,
As not to suffer your perdition.

Gom. What means Mountferrat?

Mount. This whole auberge hath
(A Guard upon this Lady) wonder not,
'Tane publick notice of the Bassaes love
Of Tripoli unto her, and consented
She should return this answer, as he writ
For her conversion, and betraying Malta,
She should advise him betray Tripoli,
And turning Christian, he should marry her.

All. All this was so.

Mount. How weakly do's this court then
Send Vessels forth to Sea, to guard the Land
Taking such special care to save one Bark,
Or strive to add fam'd men unto our cloak,
When they lurk in our bosomes would subvert
This State, and us, presuming on their blood,
And partial indulgence to their sex?

Val. Who can this be?

Mount. Your Sister, great Valetta,
Which thus I prove: demand the Bassa's Letter.

Ori. 'Tis here, nor from this pocket hath been mov'd
Nor answer'd, nor perus'd by ——

Mount. Do not swear
Cast not away your fair soul, to your treason
Add not foul perjury: is this your hand?

Ori. 'Tis very like it.

Mount. May it please the Master,
Confer these Letters, and then read her answer,
Which I have intercepted; pardon me
Reverend Valetta, that am made the means
To punish this most beautious Treachery;
Even in your Sister, since in it I save
Malta from ruine: I am bolder in't,
Because it is so palpable and withall
Know our great Master to this Countrey, firm.
As was the Roman Marcus, who spar'd not
As dear a Sister in the publique cause.

Val. I am amaz'd; attend me.