[Aside.
Const. Are you a virgin?
Cast. Never yet, my lord,
Known to the will of man.
Const. O blessèd creature!
And does too much felicity make you surfeit?
Are you in soul assur’d there is a state
Prepar’d for you, for you, a glorious one,
In midst of heaven, now in the state you stand in,
And had you rather, after much known misery,
Cares and hard labours, mingled with a curse,
Throng but to the door, and hardly get a place there?
Think, hath the world a folly like this madness?
Keep still that holy and immaculate fire,
You chaste lamp[393] of eternity! ’tis a treasure
Too precious for death’s moment to partake,
This twinkling of short life. Disdain as much
To let mortality know you, as stars
To kiss the pavements; you’ve a substance as
Excellent as theirs, holding your pureness:
They look upon corruption, as you do,
But are stars still; be you a virgin too.
Cast. I’ll never marry. What though my truth be engag’d
To Vortiger? forsaking all the world
I save it well, and do my faith no wrong. [Aside.
You’ve mightily prevail’d, great virtuous sir;
I’m[394] bound eternally to praise your goodness:
My thoughts henceforth shall be as pure from man,
As ever made a virgin’s name immortal.
Const. I will do that for joy, I never did,
Nor ever will again.
As he kisses her, re-enter Vortiger and Gentlemen.
First Gent. My lord, he’s taken.
Vort. I’m[395] sorry for’t, I like not that so well;
They’re something too familiar for their time, methinks.
This way of kissing is no way to vex him:
Why I, that have a weaker faith and patience,
Could endure more than that, coming from a woman.
Despatch, and bring his answer speedily. [Exit.
First Gent. My lord, my gracious lord!
Const. Beshrew thy heart!
Second Gent. They all attend your grace.
Const. I would not have them:
’Twould please me better, if they’d[396] all depart,
And leave me to myself; or put me out,
And take it to themselves.
First Gent. The noon is past;
Meat’s on the table.
Const. Meat! away, get from me;
Thy memory is diseas’d; what saint’s eve’s this?
First Gent. Saint Agatha’s, I take it.
Const. Is it so?
I am not worthy to be serv’d before her;
And so return, I pray.

Second Gent. He’ll starve the guard, if this be suffered: if we set court bellies by a monastery clock, he that breaks a fellow’s pate now, will not be able to crack a louse within this twelvemonth.

[Aside, and exeunt Gentlemen.
Const. ’Tis sure forgetfulness, and not man’s will,
That leads him forth into licentious ways;
He cannot certainly commit such errors,
And think upon them truly as they’re[397] acting.
Why’s abstinence ordain’d, but for such seasons?
Re-enter Vortiger.
Vort. My lord, you’ve pleas’d to put us to much pains,
But we confess ’tis portion of our duty.
Will your grace please to walk? dinner stays for you.
Const. I’ve[398] answer’d that already.
Vort. But, my lord,
We must not so yield to you: pardon me,
’Tis for the general good; you must be rul’d, sir;
Your health and life are[399] dearer to us now:
Think where you are, at court; this is no monastery.
Const. But, sir, my conscience keeps still where it was:
I may not eat this day.
Vort. We’ve[400] sworn you shall,
And plentifully too: we must preserve you, sir,
Though you be wilful; ’tis no slight condition
To be a king.
Const. Would I were less than man!
Vort. You will[401] make the people rise, my lord,
In great despair of your continuance,
If you neglect the means that must sustain you.
Const. I never eat on eves.
Vort. But now you must;
It concerns others’ healths that you take food:
I’ve[402] chang’d your life, you well may change your mood.
Const. This is beyond all cruelty.
Vort. ’Tis our care, my lord. [Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE I.

A Room in the Palace.
Enter Vortiger and Castiza.
Cast. My lord, I am resolv’d; tempt me no farther;
’Tis all to fruitless purpose.
Vort. Are you well?
Cast. Never so perfect in the truth of health
As at this instant.
Vort. Then I doubt my own,
Or that I am not waking.
Cast. Would you were then!
You’d[403] praise my resolution.
Vort. This is wondrous!
Are you not mine by contract?
Cast. ’Tis most true, my lord,
And I am better bless’d in’t than I look’d for,
In that I am confin’d in faith so strictly:
I’m[404] bound, my lord, to marry none but you,—
You’ll grant me that,—and you I’ll never marry.
Vort. It draws me into violence and hazard:
I saw you kiss the king.
Cast. I grant you so, sir;
Where could I take my leave of the world better?
I wrong’d not you in that; you will acknowledge
A king is the best part of’t.[405]
Vort. O, my passion!
Cast. I see you something yielding to infirmity, sir;
I take my leave.
Vort. Why, ’tis not possible!
Cast. The fault is in your faith; time I were gone
To give it better strengthening.
Vort. Hark you, lady.——
Cast. Send your intent to the next monastery;
There you shall find my answer ever after;
And so with my last duty to your lordship,
For whose prosperity I will pray as heartily
As for my own. [Exit.
Vort. How am I serv’d in this?
I offer a vexation to the king;
He sends it home into my blood with ’vantage.
I’ll put off time no longer: I have brought him
Into most men’s neglects, calling his zeal
A deep pride hallow’d over, love of ease
More than devotion or the public benefit;
Which catcheth many men’s beliefs. I’m strong[406] too
In people’s wishes; their affections point at me.
I lose much time and glory; that redeem’d,
She that now flies returns with joy and wonder:
Greatness and woman’s wish ne’er keep asunder.
[Exit.
Dumb Show.

[Enter two villains; to them Vortiger, who seems to solicit them with gold, then swears them, and exit. Enter Constantius meditating; they rudely strike down his book, and draw their swords; he kneels and spreads his arms; they kill him, and hurry off the body. Enter Vortiger, Devonshire, and Stafford, in conference; to them the two villains presenting the head of Constantius; Vortiger seems sorrowful, and in rage stabs them both. Then the lords crown Vortiger, and fetch in Castiza, who comes unwillingly; Vortiger hales her, and they crown her: Aurelius and Uther, brothers of Constantius, seeing him crowned, draw their swords and fly.

Enter Raynulph.
Ray. When nothing could prevail to tire
The good king’s patience, they did hire
Two wicked rogues to take his life;
In whom a while there fell a strife
Of pity and fury; but the gold
Made pity faint, and fury bold.
Then to Vortiger they bring
The head of that religious king;
Who feigning grief, to clear his guilt,
Makes the slaughterers’ blood be spilt.
Then crown they him, and force the maid,
That vow’d a virgin-life, to wed;
Such a strength great power extends,
It conquers fathers, kindred, friends;
And since fate’s pleas’d to change her life,
She proves as holy in a wife.
More to tell, were to betray
What deeds in their own tongues must say:
Only this, the good king dead,
The brothers poor in safety fled. [Exit.

SCENE II.

A Hall in the Palace.
Enter Vortiger crowned, a Gentleman meeting him.
Gent. My lord!
Vort. I fear thy news will fetch a curse, it comes
With such a violence.
Gent. The people are up
In arms against you.
Vort. O this dream of glory!
Sweet power, before I can have time to taste thee,
Must I for ever lose thee?—What’s the imposthume
That swells them now?
Gent. The murder of Constantius.
Vort. Ulcers of realms! they hated him alive,
Grew weary of the minute of his reign,
Call’d him an evil of their own electing;
And is their ignorant zeal so fiery now,
When all their thanks are cold? the mutable hearts
That move in their false breasts!—Provide me safety:
[Noise within.
Hark! I hear ruin threaten me with a voice
That imitates thunder.
Enter Second Gentleman.
Second Gent. Where’s the king?
Vort. Who takes him?
Second Gent. Send peace to all your royal thoughts, my lord:
A fleet of valiant Saxons newly landed
Offer the truth of all their service to you.
Vort. Saxons! my wishes: let them have free entrance,
And plenteous welcomes from all hearts that love us;
[Exit Second Gentleman.
They never could come happier.
Re-enter Second Gentleman with Hengist, Horsus,
and Soldiers.
Heng. Health, power, and victory to Vortiger!
Vort. There can be no more pleasure to a king,
If all the languages earth spake were ransack’d.
Your names I know not; but so much good fortune
And warranted worth lightens your fair aspècts,[407]
I cannot but in arms of love enfold you.
Heng. The mistress of our birth’s hope, fruitful Germany,
Calls me Hengistus, and this captain Horsus;
A man low-built, but yet in deeds of arms
Flame is not swifter. We are all, my lord,
The sons of Fortune; she has sent us forth
To thrive by the red sweat of our own merits;
And since, after the rage of many a tempest,
Our fates have cast us upon Britain’s bounds,
We offer you the first-fruits of our wounds.
Vort. Which we shall dearly prize: the mean’st blood spent
Shall at wealth’s fountain make its own content.
Heng. You double vigour in us then, my lord:
Pay is the soul of such as thrive by the sword.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Near the Palace.
Enter Vortiger and Gentlemen. Alarm and noise of skirmishes within.
First Gent. My lord, these Saxons bring a fortune with them
Stay[s][408] any Roman success.
Vort. On, speak, forwards!
I will not take one minute from thy tidings.
First Gent. The main supporters of this insurrection
They’ve[409] taken prisoners, and the rest so tame[d],
They stoop to the least grace that flows from mercy.
Vort. Never came power guided by better stars
Than these men’s fortitudes: yet they’re misbelievers,
Which to my reason is wondrous.
Enter Hengist, Horsus, and Soldiers, with Prisoners.
You’ve given me such a first taste of your worth,
’Twill never from my love; when life is gone,
The memory sure will follow, my soul still
Participating immortality with it.
But here’s the misery of earth’s limited glory,
There’s not a way reveal’d to any honour
Above the fame[410] which your own merits give you.
Heng. Indeed, my lord, we hold, when all’s summ’d up
That can be made for worth to be express’d,
The fame that a man wins himself is best;
That he may call his own. Honours put to him
Make him no more a man than his clothes do,
And are as soon ta’en off; for in the warmth
The heat comes from the body, not the weeds:
So man’s true fame must strike from his own deeds.
And since by this event which fortune speaks us,
This land appears the fair predestin’d soil
Ordain’d for our good hap, we crave, my lord,
A little earth to thrive on, what you please,
Where we’ll but keep a nursery of good spirits
To fight for you and yours.
Vort. Sir, for our treasure,
’Tis open to your merits, as our love;
But for ye’re strangers in religion chiefly—
Which is the greatest alienation can be,
And breeds most factions in the bloods of men—
I must not yield to that.
Enter Simon with a hide.
Heng. ’S precious, my lord,
I see a pattern; be it but so little
As yon poor hide will compass.
Vort. How, the hide!
Heng. Rather than nothing, sir.
Vort. Since you’re so reasonable,
Take so much in the best part of our kingdom.
Heng. We thank your grace.
[Exit Vortiger with Gentlemen.
Rivers from bubbling springs
Have rise at first, and great from abject things.
Stay yonder fellow: he came luckily,
And he shall fare well for’t, whate’er he be;
We’ll thank our fortune in rewarding him.

Hor. Stay, fellow!

Sim. How, fellow? ’tis more than you know, whether I be your fellow or no; I am sure you see me not.

Heng. Come, what’s the price of your hide?

Sim. O unreasonable villain! he would buy the house over a man’s head. I’ll be sure now to make my bargain wisely; they may buy me out of my skin else. [Aside.]—Whose hide would you buy, mine or the beast’s? There is little difference in their complexions: I think mine is the blacker of the two: you shall see for your love, and buy for your money.—A pestilence on you all, how have you deceived me! you buy an ox-hide! you buy a calf’s gather! They are all hungry soldiers, and I took them for honest shoe-makers. [Aside.

Heng. Hold, fellow; prithee, hold;—right a fool worldling
That kicks at all good fortune;—whose man art thou?

Sim. I am a servant, yet a masterless man, sir.

Heng. Prithee, how can that be?

Sim. Very nimbly, sir; my master is dead, and now I serve my mistress; ergo, I am a masterless man: she is now a widow, and I am the foreman of her tan-pit.

Heng. Hold you, and thank your fortune, not your wit.
[Gives him money.

Sim. Faith, and I thank your bounty, and not your wisdom; you are not troubled with wit neither greatly, it seems. Now, by this light, a nest of yellow-hammers! What will become of me? if I can keep all these without hanging myself, I am happier than a hundred of my neighbours. You shall have my skin into the bargain; then if I chance to die like a dog, the labour will be saved of flaying me: I’ll undertake, sir, you shall have all the skins in our parish at this price, men’s and women’s.

Heng. Sirrah, give good ear to me: now take the hide
And cut it all into the slenderest thongs
That can bear strength to hold.

Sim. That were a jest, i’faith: spoil all the leather? sin and pity! why, ’twould shoe half your army.

Heng. Do it, I bid you.

Sim. What, cut it all in thongs? Hum, this is like the vanity of your Roman gallants, that cannot wear good suits, but they must have them cut and slashed in giggets, that the very crimson taffaties sit blushing at their follies. I would I might persuade you from this humour of cutting; ’tis but a swaggering condition,[411] and nothing profitable: what if it were but well pinked? ’twould last longer for a summer suit.

Heng. What a cross lump of ignorance have I lighted on!
I must be forc’d to beat my drift into him.— [Aside.
Look you, to make you wiser than your parents,
I have so much ground given me as this hide
Will compass, which, as it [now] is, is nothing.
Sim. Nothing, quotha?
Why, ’twill not keep a hog.[412]
Heng. Now with the ’vantage
Cut into several pieces, ’twill stretch far,
And make a liberal circuit.

Sim. A shame on your crafty hide! is this your cunning? I have learnt more knavery now than ever I shall claw off while I live. I’ll go purchase land by cow-tails, and undo the parish; three good bulls’ pizzles would set up a man for ever: this is like a pin a-day to set up a haberdasher of small wares.

Heng. Thus men that mean to thrive, as we, must learn
Set in a foot at first.

Sim. A foot do you call it? The devil is in that foot that takes up all this leather.

Heng. Despatch, and cut it carefully with all
The advantage, sirrah.

Sim. You could never have lighted upon such a fellow to serve your turn, captain. I have such a trick of stretching, too! I learned it of a tanner’s man that was hanged last sessions at Maidstone: I’ll warrant you, I’ll get you a mile and a half more than you’re aware of.

Heng. Pray, serve me so as oft as you will, sir.

Sim. I am casting about for nine acres to make a garden-plot out of one of the buttocks.

Heng. ’Twill be a good soil for nosegays.

Sim. ’Twill be a good soil for cabbages, to stuff out the guts of your followers there.

Heng. Go, see it carefully perform’d: [Exit Simon with Soldiers.
It is the first foundation of our fortunes
On Britain’s earth, and ought to be embrac’d
With a respect near link’d to adoration.
Methinks it sounds to me a fair assurance
Of large honours and hopes; does it not, captain?
Hor. How many have begun with less at first,
That have had emperors from their bodies sprung,
And left their carcasses as much in monument
As would erect a college!
Heng. There’s the fruits
Of their religious show too; to lie rotting
Under a million spent in gold and marble.
Hor. But where shall we make choice of our ground, captain?
Heng. About the fruitful flanks of uberous[413] Kent,
A fat and olive soil; there we came in.
O captain, he has given he knows not what!
Hor. Long may he give so!
Heng. I tell thee, sirrah, he that begg’d a field
Of fourscore acres for a garden-plot,
’Twas pretty well; but he came short of this.
Hor. Send over for more Saxons.
Heng. With all speed, captain.
Hor. Especially for Roxena.
Heng. Who, my daughter?
Hor. That star of Germany, forget not her, sir:
She is a fair fortunate maid.—
Fair she is, and fortunate may she be;
But in maid lost for ever. My desire
Has been the close confusion of that name.
A treasure ’tis, able to make more thieves
Than cabinets set open to entice;
Which learn them theft that never knew the vice. [Aside.
Heng. Come, I’ll despatch with speed.
Hor. Do, forget none.
Heng. Marry, pray help my memory.
Hor. Roxena, you remember?
Heng. What more, dear sir?
Hor. I see your memory’s clear, sir. [Shouts within.
Heng. Those shouts leap’d from our army.
Hor. They were too cheerful
To voice a bad event.
Enter a Gentleman.
Heng. Now, sir, your news?
Gent. Roxena the fair—
Heng. True, she shall be sent for.
Gent. She’s here, sir.
Heng. What say’st?
Gent. She’s come, sir.
Hor. A new youth
Begins me o’er again. [Aside.
Gent. Follow’d you close, sir,
With such a zeal as daughter never equall’d;
Expos’d herself to all the merciless dangers
Set in mankind or fortune; not regarding
Aught but your sight.
Heng. Her love is infinite to me.
Hor. Most charitably censur’d; ’tis her cunning,
The love of her own lust, which makes a woman
Gallop down hill as fearless as a drunkard.
There’s no true loadstone in the world but that;
It draws them through all storms by sea or shame:
Life’s loss is thought too small to pay that game. [Aside.
Gent. What follows more of her will take you[414] strongly.
Heng. How!
Gent. Nay, ’tis worth your wonder.
Her heart, joy-ravish’d with your late success,
Being the early morning of your fortunes,
So prosperously new opening at her coming,
She takes a cup of gold, and, midst the army,
Teaching her knee a reverend cheerfulness,
Which well became her, drank a liberal health
To the king’s joys and yours, the king in presence;
Who with her sight, but her behaviour chiefly,
Or chief but one or both, I know not which,—
But he’s so far ’bove my expression caught,
’Twere art enough for one man’s time and portion
To speak him and miss nothing.
Heng. This is astonishing!
Hor. O, this ends bitter now! our close-hid flame
Will break out of my heart; I cannot keep it.
[Aside.
Heng. Gave you attention, captain? how now, man?
Hor. A kind of grief ’bout[415] these times of the moon still:
I feel a pain like a convulsion,
A cramp at heart; I know not what name fits it.
Heng. Nor never seek one for it, let it go
Without a name; would all griefs were serv’d so!
Flourish. Re-enter Vortiger, with Roxena and Attendants.
Hor. A love-knot already? arm in arm! [Aside.
Vort. What’s he
Lays claim to her?
Heng. In right of father-hood
I challenge an obedient part.
Vort. Take it,
And send [me] back the rest.
Heng. What means your grace?
Vort. You’ll keep no more than what belongs to you?
Heng. That’s all, my lord; it all belongs to me;
I keep the husband’s interest till he come:
Yet out of duty and respect to majesty,
I send her back your servant.
Vort. My mistress, sir, or nothing.
Heng. Come again;
I never thought to hear so ill of thee.
Vort. How, sir, so ill?
Heng. So beyond detestable.
To be an honest vassal is some calling,
Poor is the worst of that, shame comes not to’t;
But mistress, that[’s] the only common bait
Fortune sets at all hours, catching whore with it,
And plucks them up by clusters. There’s my sword, my lord;
[Offering his sword to Vortiger.
And if your strong desires aim at my blood,
Which runs too purely there, a nobler way
Quench it in mine.
Vort. I ne’er took sword in vain:
Hengist, we here create thee earl of Kent.
Hor. O, that will do’t! [Aside, and falls.
Vort. What ails our friend? look to him.
Rox. O, ’tis his epilepsy; I know it well:
I help’d him once in Germany; comes it again?
A virgin’s right hand strok’d upon his heart
Gives him ease straight; but it must be a pure virgin[’s],
Or else it brings no comfort.
Vort. What a task
She puts upon herself, unurgèd purity!
The truth of this will bring love’s rage into me.
Rox. O, this would mad a woman! there’s no proof
In love to indiscretion.[416]
Hor. Pish! this cures not.
Rox. Dost think I’ll ever wrong thee?
Hor. O, most feelingly!
But I’ll prevent it now, and break thy neck
With thy own cunning. Thou hast undertaken
To give me help, to bring in royal credit
Thy crack’d virginity, but I’ll spoil all:
I will not stand on purpose, though I could,
But fall still to disgrace thee.
Rox. What, you will not?
Hor. I have no other way to help myself;
For when thou’rt known to be a whore imposterous,[417]
I shall be sure to keep thee.
Rox. O sir, shame me not!
You’ve had what is most precious; try my faith;
Undo me not at first in chaste opinion.
Hor. All this art shall not make me feel my legs.
Rox. I prithee, do not wilfully confound me.
Hor. Well, I’m[418] content for this time to recover,
To save thy credit, and bite in my pain;
But if thou ever fail’st me, I will fall,
And thou shalt never get me up again. [Rises.
Rox. Agreed ’twixt you and I, sir.—See, my lord,
A poor maid’s work! the man may pass for health now
Among the clearest bloods, and those are nicest.
Vort. I’ve[419] heard of women brought men on their knees,
But few that e’er restored them.—How now, captain?
Hor. My lord, methinks I could do things past man,
I’m so renew’d in vigour; I long most
For violent exercise to take me down:
My joy’s so high in blood, I’m above frailty.
Vort. My lord of Kent.
Heng. Your love’s unworthy creature.
Vort. See’st thou this fair chain? think upon the means
To keep it link’d for ever.
Heng. O my lord,
’Tis many degrees sunder’d from my hope!
Besides, your grace has a young virtuous queen.
Vort. I say, think on it.
Hor. If this wind hold, I fall to my old disease. [Aside.
Vort. There’s no fault in thee but to come so late;
All else is excellent: I chide none but fate. [Exeunt.