Enter Pirez and De Loome.
De L. A sad court indeed, my lord.
Pir. As sad a kingdom! Where the news is
spread, men that hear it stand struck, as if their
own passing-bells did call unto them.
De L. Kings' glasses are as brittle as their
meanest subjects', their footings as slippery and
uncertain. He was a brave prince, and his life
will be memorable in Castile.
Pir. His death is much admired for the sudden
strangeness of it. What opinion give the physicians
on't?
De L. They've a hard name for't, if I could
think on't.
Pir. Not suspicion of poison?
De L. How, my lord! by whom would you
suspect it?
Pir. Nay, I dare suspect none, nor don't; but
such quirks of state I have read of in the days of
old.
De L. I never saw him discount a day with
more content and freedom; his very thoughts were
hearty.
Pir. 'Twas a fatal one, and will give a sad discourse
to our posterity, and leave it on record in
bleeding characters.
De L. The count's resolution had too much
blood and cruelty in't.
Pir. Dessandro urged as much as mortal sense
could groan with.
De L. I now call to mind, still as he spake and
glanced upon Cleara's face, I had strange startlings
in me.
Pir. As the times have.
De. L. The times, my lord? for what?
Pir. The king's death, sir.
De L. Why, my lord, the times are not of the
worst presage, though that may cloud them a
little.
Pir. I am no Booker, sir, nor Lilly to prognosticate
what seven years may travail with; but I
could wish the price of knaves may fall.
De L. Your lordship's virtues command not a
more humble and observant creature. [Exit.
Pir. This fellow must be muzzled.
Enter Sampayo.
Samp. Who's that?
Pir. The duke's thing, his trifle-broker.
Sano. The king's now.
Pir. Castile did never hear more news, I fear.
Samp. We shall now see the fine turns and
games of the state.
Pir. When fools and knaves chase trump.
Samp. Now heads and points will be the sport.
Pir. The king will have the heads then, I
believe.
Samp. Observe 'em.
Pir. So near?
Enter Bereo, nobles soliciting him with papers.
All. Heavens bless your majesty! Heavens keep your majesty!
[Within.
Please you hear your most faithful subjects?
Duke. Who are they, that bark so?
De L. A rout of porters, prentices, and sailors'
wives, with such a spawn, who are modest
petitioners your majesty would give 'em leave to
govern you in some matters of state, and humbly
pray to be admitted of your privy council. Here's
another, sir, from the most reverend bags of the
city to purchase all the churches of your majesty
for warehouses; and this, sir, from the corporation
of weavers, cobblers, and feltmakers: that you
would please to give 'em leave to fire all universities
and schools of learning, that the profane
might better see the truth.
Duke. No more. Their stinking breath will
stifle me! Keep back their clamour. Wealth and
ease have made the rascals wanton, and profane
their allegiance. My lord [De Castro kneels],
you need not kneel in a cause, that equally concerns
us with you; and the groans of your
brother's wounds echo unto our sleeps. Our
honour and the laws bleed in them, until a justice
stop their issues, which our own care shall take a
speedy account of. Sampayo! [Whispers.
Samp. I shall, my lord. [Exit.
Duke. O my lords, we are circled in a tide of grief,
Where every billow threatens a grave: but in your loves
Our hope takes new life, which we as zealously
Shall sacrifice again to you and yours.
Let me be beholden t' you for a minute's conference
With my own sad thoughts. [Exeunt.
So take breath, my hopes.
Whilst we with pride look upon the world behind us,
And then survey the glory of our progress
And success, the print of every step is glorious,
And methinks we stand like Rome herself, in midst
Of all her triumphs, when her threat'ned head
Lean'd on the spangled breast of heaven, and
Jostled with the gods; from whose imperious frown
The world took all her laws and dooms. Yet her
Vast story shall look pale to mine; and time
Begin his great example here.
Castile, thou now shalt blush for thy neglect:
I'll print thy scorns on thy own brow, till my revenge
Look lovely as did Rome's, in her bright flames,
To Nero; and Nature shall repent, that she
Mistook the man Fortune meant thine. Then up,
My soul, and from thy glorious stand see
Thy proud hopes and wishes court thee! Thou hast
Been bashful yet, and hid in blushes. Make
Room for thy more spacious thoughts, and let
The petty world know this: all things
Depend upon the breath of gods and kings. [Exit.
Enter two Officers.
1st Off. There, there! Lay that in the place;
so, so; here, help to spread this carpet. Quick,
quick!
2d Off. Will our new king be here to give the
forked herd an oration?
1st Off. An halter! Thou dost so fumble!
But what's the general voice of the king's death?
Here's the mourning for that bar.
2d Off. Marry, some think he died against his
will; and others, that his brother—Where stands
this?—will bury him very royally——
1st Off. Hum! and others think if thou wert
hanged, when 'tis thy due, there would be quickly
a knave less. Despatch, despatch! I hear them
coming.
Enter Judges, the two Ladies, DE LOOME, LA
GITTERNE, and others. De Flame stands at
the bar.
Off. Pray, by your leave; make way; give
back there! For shame, sir; you press so hard
upon the judges, they scarce have liberty to breathe.
Clear the bar; peace!
1st Judge. My lord, here's none but knows
you, and I believe do grieve to see you stand thus,
and for a fact of such a bloody nature. A gentleman
of your fair hopes and fortunes, blood and
spirit, and other excellent parts, all cast upon
untimely hazards by such an act (as indeed I
know not how to name it). You needs must,
therefore, be worthy our grief; and I presume
you are not now to know the laws and
customs of this your country, with what religious
care they look unto the safety of our lives and
our estates, and with what strictness on perpetrations
of such a dye——
2d Judge. Especially, where innocent blood is
shed; and therefore we, being but the tongues of
the law (my lord), may hope you will interpret
the justice of it clearly from our mouths.
De F. Please you, most reverend lords, is there
aught else but this I am to stand accused for?
2d Judge. Not that we know.
De F. Then, my good lords, you need not
labour much to find out circumstances to condemn
me; nor do I wish or think, my lords, to
satisfy the law by talking in my own defence.
Nor will I brand myself with such a fear, much
less hope, as to bespeak a melting tear. That
were to wish the act undone, and rob my justice
of a glory I would be torn to atoms for. No, I
come to meet the law; and if your wisdoms can
contract the spacious volumes of it into one doom,
I shall not startle, or divide my breast. My resolution
was above it, when first I undertook to be
my own law and judge.
1st Judge. I grieve to hear this language from
you: it takes much from the man that you have
seemed, my lord; stain not your noble and religious
fame with such an atheism.
2d Judge. Look back into the deed, my lord.
See, what a tide of blood pursues you, and breaks
upon your soul in angry seas.
De F. Look back to our fame, grave lords, the
blood and honour of our family; nor think it my
vainglory to urge it here, since the cause does.
There has not yet, in all the ages it hath served
the state, one stain fallen on our escutcheon; and
although, my lords, these honours are derived to
us in a vast circle of time and blood, the passage
must be still through our veins, and so are treasured
here as heat in fire; so as the least taint in
us reflects a blush on the first virtue of our great
ancestors. And what has man called sacred but
his honour? That dwells not in the smiles of
Fortune; nor can she place the fool or coward in
that rank. And can your wisdoms think ours so
cheap, as to become the scorn of such?
2d Judge. My lord, 'twould better satisfy all
those that know you to hear your grief than
passion.
De F. O, cry ye mercy! He was your lordship's
kinsman; yet I will add, he basely did
betray a love and innocence more noble than a
thousand of their lives. Poor Cleara! perjured
his faith and honour, and quite dissolved their
holy ties in the lascivious arms of her, whose name
shall not take honour from my breath.
2d Judge. We spend time; pray, give those
ladies leave to speak.
Enter De Castro.
De C. My lords, the king is come to sit amongst
ye.
Off. Stand back there, ho! you, Goodman
Roundhead, you'd best breathe in the king's
face: pull back your horns, sir!—D' you mutter?
Take that, and crowd further. The rogues are
as hollow as a vault, and sound like one with a
blow.
Enter Bereo, De Castro, attendants; at the other
door, the King himself.
[Within.] The king, the king! Whoo?
1st Judge. What's the matter?
Duke. De Castro, is this a mask or apparition?
King. Seize on the traitor!
Duke. Ha!
King. Hence, monstrous thing!
Duke. Traitor!
King. Yes; and a foul one. My lords, suspend
Your wonder. We thank ye. Prodigy to thy blood,
We have given you leave to wanton in your guilt
And see at what mighty impiety it would reach;
To fasten you the surer in your toil.
Take your places. Durst thou derive the glory
Of our grandsires to thyself, whilst with unnatural hands
Thou tear'st their graves up; mingling blood and shame
With their bless'd dust? Have we not shar'd our kingdom with thee:
Let thee into our heart nearer than nature,
If possible? And could all this beget
No better thanks than poison? The very thought
Unnerves my joints.
Duke. Treason? Who dares avow it, sir,
Or charge the least stain upon my loyal bosom,
And make it good? I challenge all mankind,
And envy from the nether hells; 'tis but
Some engine to betray me to you.
De C. I did but quit a sin,
Which would have betray'd us both eternally,
And bore so sad a shape of horror,
As it affrighted all within me, and, like a frenzy,
Held me, till I had purged it from my bosom.
Duke. Had thy revenge no other way but this,
To undermine the virtue of nature against itself?
My lords, there's forgery in't, poison, and treason!
It did amaze my innocence. Sounds, that my blood
Do shiver at. And did not I see his father's treason
Blush yet upon his brow, I should not think
Castile infected with the thought.
1st Judge. My Lord De Castro,
What proof or circumstance have you to urge
This clearer to his highness?
Duke. Grave patriots of the law,
Give me your leave in this, that would blemish
The honour of my fame for ever. Let him produce but any
That may accuse me to your reverend judgments,
And Bereo will lay down his head to the block.
But I know your wisdoms will discern a plot in't:
And how far he stands incompetent against me
In faith and honour.
King. What say you, my lord?
De C. Sir, what I have told your Majesty—my life
Shall make good on my torture: my brother being dead,
Heaven only and my conscience can clear it:
And to quit my innocence of malice, your own conscience
Must tell you, my lord, that when first you used my brother
To ensnare me, and press'd it in the duchess's garden,
How much I argued to divert you; but then—
Duke. My lords, I desire justice and reparation
On the villain.
2d Judge. My Lord. De Castro,
The king has pleased to give us your relation,
In which (though the least tenderness cannot be
Impertinent to his sacred safety) there's nothing
That can raise the law to any argument, which may reach
The Duke, scarce as a peer, which looks upon him
As the second man in whom all our safeties and hopes are stor'd:
Not to be touch'd with every jealousy,
But at a high and reverend form of proof.
Duke. Let me appeal unto yourself, dread sir;
Which of my actions or services of state
Can be suspected? And do you not perceive
That where his father left, his treason would begin?
De C. Help me, dear truth, or else I shall suffer
For my loyalty. Great sir, be pleased——
Duke. That most judicious judge has well observ'd,
There is an envy in his soul would reach
From you to your succession, and leave the character
Of his father's treason on it in blood and ruin.
Wretched man, trust me, I grieve for thy slidefrom piety;
And when I look upon the love and pity
I have cast away on such a thing, I repent
My easy faith. Good heaven! what will men fall to?
King. Take the Count unto the citadel, and let none
Be admitted to him upon peril— [Exeunt with De Castro.
Brother, they were no easy insinuations
That did engage our fears to this: but such
As nam'd a higher proof and circumstance.
And, we confess, it struck our nature with some passionate strugglings:
Not that the wish of our ambition is fix'd here,
And would revive a term of years
To rob ye of one minute's glorious trouble:
Yet, my lord, if our laws take care
To preserve the meanest subject's life, our own
Ought not to be look'd on with less providence:
And fears are happy cautions many times.
But mine retire.
Let our desires meet, and reconcile me to your arms—— [Embrace.
His merit shall find the justice it has scandall'd,
If it stand guilty.
Duke. If, my lord? Can yet that scruple stay behind?
Returns with De Castro and Dessandro. A physician and chirurgeon, &c.
De C. See, royal sir, I have met a miracle, [They kneel.
That heaven has preserv'd and sent to guard your
Sacred highness and the truth.
De F. Dessandro risen from the dead?
King. Dessandro!
Des. The vilest wretch alive, who throws himself
At your feet in tears of blood, and so much
Horrid guilt as calls for all the wrath of
This and the other world: not daring to
Lift my hopes to any pardon. O sir!
'Twas he (back'd by that bad Prince and other giddy
Hopes) that would have seduc'd my brother to
That act against your sacred life.
King. Would it went no further? Duke de Bereo,
Can now your brow change colour?
Duke. 'Tis all imposture.
King. Fie, fie; don't glory against heaven, that hath
Left thy sin to subterfuge.
Duke. You would not fright me from myself?
King. Well; our guard!
Doct. May it please— [Kneels.
King. Rise, What would you say, sir?
Doct. Under your gracious licence this. We
found our princely lady and the lady Cleara cold
in their clodded gore: this Colonel so spent in
expense of blood, as we could not say alive; for
that half spark of heat left in his veins was then
e'en going out. Our care having preserved and
kindled it to life again, after his shattered faculties
could pant and breathe, he called for pen and ink,
and caused us to write what is there contained.
[Gives a paper.
Des. Of too much truth; and I blush for those few
Drops of blood I have left to expiate.
Duke. I am betrayed and lost!
Could'st be in love with that saint life, for one
Poor minute's smile, to betray it to ignominy and law?
I could trample on thy skull, until thy reeking
Brain sparkled about the dust. See how busily
They contract their dusky brows! Consult things
Safely, and let some reverend statute be ordained
In honour of all cowards. [Aside.] De Castro! for this good
Service know, 'twas I that laid thy father's head
Upon the block: complotted with the Portuguese
To make him guilty to the King: and envying that
He spread with so much shadow in the state, by a close
Faction rend'red him odious to the people: an engine,
I knew could not fail. I hurried thee to the Duchess's
Wanton bed, Dessandro, knowing De Flame's high
Blood would quit the debt I owed thee——
Des. He's proud all mischief can call him patron.
Duke. Nor had I shar'd the pleasure of a kiss to you
Or him, but that our purpose needs would have it so.
De F. Sir!
Duke. The language is plain and true.
De F. Then Claudilla was your court-mistress, Duke?—
'Twere profanation to say whore!
Duke. Young lord, I can forgive that language
In a suffering man.
De F. Forgive it!
Duke. Forgive it; and had De Flame himself
Enjoy'd her bed, and reap'd the scattered minutes
Of our love, he must have found another gloss more
Safe and honourable.
De F. Must! What saw you in me did promise
So tame a thing, as to feed on your high scraps?
Glorious mischief!
Des. My lord, I beg your mercy; and to deserve it
Will weep the remnant of this unworthy life
Unto Cleara's name.
De F. All mankind has my peaceful wish, but this
Black speckled serpent, whose load doth make
The earth to groan and sweat.
Duke. My fair Claudilla, methinks I see thee
Lovely in that ghastly trim of death, while
Yet thy soul was struggling through thy cruel
Wounds.
De F. The day begins to frown and creep into
Eternal night: we'll bed together in one grave, Cleara.
Castile shall hide us in a golden heap, and name me
With her patriots for taking this foul monster
From her bosom.
Duke. I'll find thee in the myrtle groves below,
And leave a story that shall tell the world,
How much I lov'd thee. [They stab each other.
King. Desperate atheists!
Duke. You were beforehand, sir.
De F. You've overtaken me: the world is hid in a
Cloud, and shrinks to chaos. O, whither
Must I wander in this mist? So, so—
I feel thee glide away, and leave me sunk
Upon a quicksand. [Expirat.
King. What a thirst of blood burnt up their hearts,
That they must quench it in their own?
Duke. Hast thou not air enough, my panting soul?
O, what a stitch is coming! [Expirat.
King. Wou'd thou had'st better lov'd thyself and us:
For while thou priz'd the honour of that blood,
We priz'd thee with it. O ambition!
The grandame of all sin, that strikes at stars
With an undaunted brow, whilst thus thy feet
Slide to the nether hell! Like some vast stream,
That takes into its womb all springs that neighbour by it,
And would proudly carry all their currents in its own:
Swells o'er its banks, and wantons like a tyrant.
Take hence the sight: it stirs our indignation.
[Exeunt cum corporibus.
Omnes. Long live the great and good King of Castile!
King. We thank ye, and just heaven which hath (unto wonder)
Unknotted all these mischiefs, and kept us safe:
And because we do not love to use the laws
In their extremity, or execute with blood,
Where we can moderate without; but chiefly,
Dessandro, to endear ye more to heaven
In your acknowledgment, we do enjoin you
To some religious house of Orders, there
By an humble life to expiate your guilt.
Des. Upon my knees I do acknowledge
Your God-like mercy.
King. De Castro
Our thanks shall make your loyalty
Exemplary to all times: nor wish we to live longer
Than to gain the faith of all; that we may find
Ourself and title most secure, and greatest
In your loves; which gives us more
Than giddy fortune can——
This is our fate, and to the wise is known;
All goods without us are, not (sure) our own.
In tenui labor est; at tenuis non gloria.