Enter Raynulph.
Ray. Of Pagan blood a queen being chose,
Roxena hight,[503] the Britons rose
For Vortimer, and crown’d him king;
But she soon poison’d that sweet spring.
Then unto rule they did restore
Vortiger; and him they swore
Against the Saxons: they (constrain’d)
Begg’d peace, treaty, and obtain’d.
And now in numbers equally
Upon the plain near Salisbury,
A peaceful meeting they decreen,[504]
Like men of love, no weapon seen.
But Hengist, that ambitious lord,
Full of guile, corrupts his word,
As the sequel too well proves:—
On that your eyes; on us your loves. [Exit.

SCENE III.

A Plain near Salisbury.
Enter Hengist, with Saxons.
Heng. If we let slip this opportuneful hour,
Take leave of fortune, certainty, or thought
Of ever fixing: we are loose at root,
And the least storm may rend us from the bosom
Of this land’s hopes for ever. But, dear Saxons,
Fasten we now, and our unshaken firmness
Will endure after-ages.
First Sax. We are resolv’d, my lord.
Heng. Observe you not how Vortiger the king,
Base in submission, threaten’d our expulsion,
His arm held up against us? Is’t[505] not time
To make our best prevention? What should check me?
He has perfected that great work in our daughter,
And made her queen: she can ascend no higher.
Therefore be quick; despatch. Here, every man
Receive into the service of his vengeance
An instrument of steel, which will unseen [Distributing daggers.
Lurk, like a snake under the innocent shade
Of a spread summer-leaf: there, fly you on.
Take heart, the commons love us; those remov’d
That are the nerves, our greatness stands improv’d.
First Sax. Give us the word, my lord, and we are perfect.
Heng. That’s true; the word,—I lose myself—Nemp your sexes:[506]
It shall be that.
First Sax. Enough, sir: then we strike.
Heng. But the king’s mine: take heed you touch him not.
First Sax. We shall not be at leisure; never fear it;
We shall have work enough of our own, my lord.
Heng. Calm looks, but stormy souls possess you all!
Enter Vortiger and British Lords.
Vort. We see you keep your words in all points firm.
Heng. No longer may we boast of so much breath
As goes to a word’s making, than of care
In the preserving of it when ’tis made.
Vort. You’re in a virtuous way, my lord of Kent:
And since both sides are met, like sons of peace,
All other arms laid by in signs of favour,
If our conditions be embrac’d—
Heng. They are.
Vort. We’ll use no other but these only here.
Heng. Nemp your sexes.
British Lords. Treason! treason!
[The Saxons stab the British Lords.
Heng. Follow it to the heart, my trusty Saxons!
It is your liberty, your wealth, and honour.—
Soft, you are mine, my lord. [Seizing Vortiger.
Vort. Take me not basely, when all sense and strength
Lie[507] bound up in amazement at this treachery.
What devil hath breath’d this everlasting part
Of falsehood into thee?
Heng. Let it suffice
I have you, and will hold you prisoner,
As fast as death holds your best props in silence.
We know the hard conditions of our peace,
Slavery or diminution; which we hate
With a joint loathing. May all perish thus,
That seek to subjugate or lessen us!
Vort. O, the strange nooks of guile or subtilty,
When man so cunningly lies hid from man!
Who could expect such treason from thy breast,
Such thunder from thy voice? Or tak’st thou pride
To imitate the fair uncertainty
Of a bright day, that teems a sudden storm,
When the world least expects one? but of all,
I’ll ne’er trust fair sky in a man again:
There’s the deceitful weather. Will you heap
More guilt upon you by detaining me,
Like a cup taken after a sore surfeit,
Even in contempt of health and heaven together?
What seek you?
Heng. Ransom for your liberty,
As I shall like of, or you ne’er obtain it.
Vort. Here’s a most headlong dangerous ambition!
Sow you the seeds of your aspiring hopes
In blood and treason, and must I pay for them?
Heng. Have not I rais’d you to this height of pride?
A work of my own merit, since you enforce it.
Vort. There’s even the general thanks of all aspirers:
When they have all a kingdom can impart,
They write above it still their own desert.
Heng. I’ve[508] writ mine true, my lord.
Vort. That’s all their sayings.
Have not I rais’d thy daughter to a queen?
Heng. You have the harmony of your pleasure for it;
You crown your own desires; what’s that to me?
Vort. And what will crown yours, sir?
Heng. Faith, things of reason:
I demand Kent.
Vort. Why, you’ve the earldom of it.
Heng. The kingdom of’t, I mean, without control,
In full possession.
Vort. This is strange in you.
Heng. It seems you’re not acquainted with my blood,
To call this strange.
Vort. Never was king of Kent,
But who was general king.
Heng. I’ll be the first then:
Every thing has beginning.
Vort. No less title?
Heng. Not if you hope for liberty, my lord.
So dear a happiness would not be wrong’d
With slighting.
Vort. Very well: take it; I resign it.
Heng. Why, I thank your grace.
Vort. Is your great thirst yet satisfied?
Heng. Faith, my lord,
There’s yet behind a pair of teeming sisters,
Norfolk and Suffolk, and I’ve[509] done with you.
Vort. You’ve got a dangerous thirst of late, my lord,
Howe’er you came by’t.[510]
Heng. It behoves me then,
For my blood’s health, to seek all means to quench it.
Vort. Them too?
Heng. There will nothing be abated, I assure you.
Vort. You have me at advantage: he whom fate
Does captivate, must yield to all. Take them.
Heng. And you your liberty and peace, my lord,
With our best love and wishes.—Here’s an hour
Begins us, Saxons, in wealth, fame, and power.
[Exit with Saxons.
Vort. Are these the noblest fruits and fair’st requitals
From works of our own raising?
Methinks,[511] the murder of Constantius
Speaks to me in the voice of’t,[512] and the wrongs
Of our late queen, slipt both into one organ.
Enter Horsus.
Ambition, hell, my own undoing lust,
And all the brood of plagues, conspire against me:
I have not a friend left me.
Hor. My lord, he dies
That says it, but yourself, were’t that thief-king,
That has so boldly stoln his honours from you;
A treason that wrings tears from honest manhood.
Vort. So rich am I now in thy love and pity,
I feel no loss at all: but we must part,
My queen and I to Cambria.
Hor. My lord, and I not nam’d,
That have vow’d lasting service to my life’s
Extremest minute!
Vort. Is my sick fate blest with so pure a friend?
Hor. My lord, no space of earth, nor breadth of sea,
Shall divide me from you.
Vort. O faithful treasure!
All my lost happiness is made up in thee. [Exit.
Hor. I’ll follow you through the world, to cuckold you;
That’s my way now. Every one has his toy
While he lives here: some men delight in building,
A trick of Babel, which will ne’er be left;
Some in consuming what was rais’d with toiling;
Hengist in getting honour, I in spoiling. [Exit.

ACT V. SCENE I.

A Room in Simon’s House.
Enter Simon, Glover, Felt-maker, and other of his brethren, Aminadab, and Servants.

Sim. Is not that rebel Oliver, that traitor to my year, ’prehended yet?

Amin. Not yet, so please your worship.

Sim. Not yet, sayest thou? how durst thou say, not yet, and see me present? thou malapert, that art good for nothing but to write and read! Is his loom seized upon?

Amin. Yes, if it like your worship, and sixteen yards of fustian.

Sim. Good: let a yard be saved to mend me between the legs, the rest cut in pieces and given to the poor. ’Tis heretic fustian, and should be burnt indeed; but being worn threadbare, the shame will be as great: how think you, neighbours?

Glov. Greater, methinks, the longer it is wore;
Where[513] being once burnt, it can be burnt no more.
Sim. True, wise and most senseless.—How now, sirrah?
Enter a Footman.
What’s he approaching here in dusty pumps?
Amin. A footman, sir, to the great king of Kent.
Sim. The king of Kent? shake him by the hand for me.
Thou’rt welcome, footman: lo, my deputy shakes thee!
Come when my year is out, I’ll do’t myself.
If ’twere a dog that came from the king of Kent,
I keep those officers would shake him, I trow.
And what’s the news with thee, thou well-stew’d footman?
Foot. The king, my master—
Sim. Ha!
Foot. With a few Saxons,
Intends this night to make merry with you.
Sim. Merry with me? I should be sorry else, fellow,
And take it in ill part; so tell Kent’s king.
Why was I chosen, but that great men should make
Merry with me? there is a jest indeed!
Tell him I look’d for’t; and me much he wrongs,
If he forget Sim that cut out his thongs.
Foot. I’ll run with your worship’s answer.
Sim. Do, I prithee. [Exit Footman.
That fellow will be roasted against supper;
He’s half enough already; his brows baste him.
The king of Kent! the king of Kirsendom[514]
Shall not be better welcome;
For you must imagine now, neighbours, this is
The time when Kent stands out of Kirsendom,
For he that’s king here now was never kirsen’d.
This for your more instruction I thought fit,
That when you’re[515] dead you may teach your children wit.—
Clerk!
Amin. At your worship’s elbow.
Sim. I must turn
You from the hall to the kitchen to-night.
Give order that twelve pigs be roasted yellow,
Nine geese, and some three larks for piddling meat,
And twenty woodcocks: I’ll bid all my neighbours.
Give charge the mutton come in all blood-raw,
That’s[516] infidel’s meat; the king of Kent’s a pagan,
And must be servèd so. And let those officers
That seldom or never go to church bring it in,
’Twill be the better taken. Run, run.
[Exit Aminadab.
Come you hither now.
Take all my cushions down and thwack them soundly,
After my feast of millers; for their buttocks
Have left a peck of flour in them: beat them carefully
Over a bolting-hutch, there will be enough
For a pan-pudding, as your dame will handle it.
Then put fresh water into both the bough-pots,
And burn a little juniper in the hall-chimney:
[Exeunt Servants.
Like a beast as I was, I pissed out the fire last night,
and never dreamt of the king’s coming.
Re-enter Aminadab.

How now, returned so quickly?

Amin. Please your worship, here are a certain company of players—

Sim. Ha, players!

Amin. Country comedians, interluders, sir, desire your worship’s favour and leave to enact in the town-hall.

Sim. In the town-hall? ’tis ten to one I never grant them that. Call them before my worship. [Exit ᚳAminadab.]—If my house will not serve their turn, I would fain see the proudest he lend them a barn.

Re-enter Aminadab with Players.[517]

Now, sirs, are you comedians?

Second Play. We are, sir; comedians, tragedians, tragi-comedians, comi-tragedians, pastorists, humorists, clownists, satirists: we have them, sir, from the hug to the smile, from the smile to the laugh, from the laugh to the handkerchief.

Sim. You’re very strong in the wrist, methinks. And must all these good parts be cast away upon pedlars and maltmen, ha?

First Play. For want of better company, if it please your worship.

Sim. What think you of me, my masters? Hum; have you audacity enough to play before so high a person as myself? Will not my countenance daunt you? for if you play before me, I shall often look on you; I give you that warning beforehand. Take it not ill, my masters, I shall laugh at you, and truly when I am least offended with you: it is my humour; but be not you abashed.

First Play. Sir, we have play’d before a lord ere now,
Though we be country actors.
Sim. A lord? ha, ha!
Thou’lt find it a harder thing to please a mayor.
Second Play. We have a play wherein we use a horse.
Sim. Fellows, you use no horse-play in my house;
My rooms are rubb’d: keep it for hackney-men.
First Play. We’ll not offer it to your worship.
Sim. Give me a play without a beast, I charge you.
Second Play. That’s hard; without a cuckold or a drunkard?

Sim. O, those beasts are often the best men in a parish, and must not be kept out. But which is your merriest play? that I would hearken after.

Second Play. Your worship shall hear their names, and take your choice.

Sim. And that’s plain dealing. Come, begin, sir.

Second Play. The Whirligig,[518] The Whibble, The Carwidgeon.

Sim. Hey-day! what names are these?

Second Play. New names of late. The Wild-goose Chase.[519]

Sim. I understand thee now.

Second Play. Gull upon Gull.

Sim. Why this is somewhat yet.

First Play. Woodcock of our side.[520]

Sim. Get thee further off then.

Second Play. The Cheater and the Clown.

Sim. Is that come up again?
That was a play when I was ’prentice first.
Second Play. Ay, but the Cheater has learn’d more tricks of late,
And gulls the Clown with new additions.

Sim. Then is your Clown a coxcomb; which is he?

First Play. This is our Clown, sir.

Sim. Fie, fie, your company must fall upon him and beat him: he’s too fair, i’faith, to make the people laugh.

First Play. Not as he may be drest, sir.

Sim. Faith, dress him how you will, I’ll give him that gift, he will never look half scurvily enough. O, the clowns[521] that I have seen in my time! The very peeping out of one of them would have made a young heir laugh, though his father lay a-dying; a man undone in law the day before (the saddest case that can be) might for his twopence[522] have burst himself with laughing, and ended all his miseries. Here was a merry world, my masters!

Some talk of things of state, of puling stuff;
There’s nothing in a play to[523] a clown,
If he have the grace to hit on’t;[524] that’s the thing:
The king shews well, but he sets off the king.
But not the king of Kent, I mean not so;
The king is one, I mean, I do not know.
Second Play. Your worship speaks with safety, like a rich man;
And for your finding fault, our hopes are greater,
Neither with him the Clown, nor me the Cheater.
Sim. Away, then; shift, Clown, to thy motley crupper.
[Exeunt Players.
We’ll see them first, the king shall after supper.

Glov. I commend your worship’s wisdom in that, master mayor.

Sim. Nay, ’tis a point of justice, if it be well examined, not to offer the king worse than I’ll see myself. For a play may be dangerous: I have known a great man poisoned in a play—

Glov. What, have you, master mayor?

Sim. But to what purpose many times, I know not.

Felt. Methinks they should [not] destroy one another so.

Sim. O, no, no! he that’s poisoned is always made privy to it; that’s one good order they have among them.—[A shout within.] What joyful throat is that? Aminadab, what is the meaning of this cry?

Amin. The rebel is taken.

Sim. Oliver the puritan?

Amin. Oliver, puritan, and fustian-weaver altogether.

Sim. Fates, I thank you for this victorious day!
Bonfires of pease-straw burn, let the bells ring!
Glov. There’s two in mending, and you know they cannot.
Sim. Alas,[525] the tenor’s broken! ring out the treble!
Enter Oliver, brought in by Officers.
I’m[526] over-cloy’d with joy.—Welcome, thou rebel!
Oliv. I scorn thy welcome, I.
Sim. Art thou yet so stout?
Wilt thou not stoop for grace? then get thee out.
Oliv. I was not born to stoop but to my loom;
That seiz’d upon, my stooping days are done.

In plain terms, if thou hast any thing to say to me, send me away quickly, this is no biding-place; I understand there are players in thy house; despatch me, I charge thee, in the name of all the brethren.

Sim. Nay, now, proud rebel, I will make thee stay;
And, to thy greater torment, see a play.
Oliv. O devil! I conjure thee by Amsterdam![527]
Sim. Our word is past;
Justice may wink a while, but see at last.
[Trumpet sounds to announce the commencement
of the play.
The play begins.[528] Hold, stop him, stop him!
Oliv. O that profane trumpet! O, O!
Sim. Set him down there, I charge you, officers.
Oliv. I’ll stop my ears and hide my eyes.[529]
Sim. Down with his golls,[530] I charge you.
Oliv. O tyranny, tyranny! revenge it, tribulation!
For rebels there are many deaths; but sure the only way
To execute a puritan, is seeing of a play.
O, I shall swound![531]
Sim. Which if thou dost, to spite thee,
A player’s boy shall bring thee aqua-vitæ.[532]
Enter First Player as First Cheater.

Oliv. O, I’ll not swound at all for’t, though I die.

Sim. Peace, here’s a rascal! list and edify.

First Play. I say still he’s an ass that cannot live by his wits.

Sim. What a bold rascal’s this! he calls us all asses at first dash: sure none of us live by our wits, unless it be Oliver the puritan.

Oliv. I scorn as much to live by my wits as the proudest of you all.

Sim. Why then you’re an ass for company; so hold your prating.

Enter Second Player as Second Cheater.

First[533] Play. Fellow in arms, welcome! the news, the news?

Sim. Fellow in arms, quoth he? He may well call him fellow in arms; I am sure they’re both out at the elbows.

Second Play. Be lively, my heart, be lively; the booty is at hand. He’s but a fool of a yeoman’s eldest son; he’s balanced on both sides, bully; he’s going to buy household-stuff with one pocket, and to pay rent with the other.

First Play. And if this be his last day, my chuck, he shall forfeit his lease, quoth the one pocket, and eat his meat in wooden platters, quoth the other.

Sim. Faith, then he’s not so wise as he ought to be, to let such tatterdemallions get the upper hand of him.

First Play. He comes.

Enter Third Player as Clown.

Second Play. Ay, but smally to our comfort, with both his hands in his pockets. How is it possible to pick a lock, when the key is on the inside of the door?

Sim. O neighbours, here’s the part now that carries away the play! if the clown miscarry, farewell my hopes for ever; the play’s spoiled.

Third Play. They say there is a foolish kind of thing called a cheater abroad, that will gull any yeoman’s son of his purse, and laugh in his face like an Irishman. I would fain meet with some of these creatures: I am in as good state to be gulled now as ever I was in my life, for I have two purses at this time about me, and I would fain be acquainted with that rascal that would take one of them now.

Sim. Faith, thou mayest be acquainted with two or three, that will do their good wills, I warrant thee.

First Play. That way’s too plain, too easy, I’m afraid.
Second Play. Come, sir, your most familiar cheats take best,
They shew like natural things and least suspected.
Give me a round shilling quickly.

First Play. It will fetch but one of his hands neither, if it take.

Second Play. Thou art too covetous: let’s have one out first, prithee; there’s time enough to fetch out th’ other after. Thou liest, ’tis lawful current money.[They draw.

First Play. I say ’tis copper in some countries.

Third Play. Here is a fray towards;[534] but I will hold my hands, let who will part them.

Second Play. Copper? I defy thee, and now I shall disprove thee. Look you, here’s an honest yeoman’s son of the country, a man of judgment—

Third Play. Pray you be covered, sir; I have eggs in my cap, and cannot put it off.

Second Play. Will you be tried by him?

First Play. I am content, sir.

Sim. They look rather as if they would be tried next sessions.

First Play. Pray give your judgment of this piece of coin, sir.

Third Play. Nay, if it be coin you strive about, let me see it; I love money.

First Play. Look on it well, sir.

[They pick his pocket.

Second Play. Let him do his worst, sir.

Third Play. You’d both need wear cut[535] clothes, you’re so choleric.

Second Play. Nay, rub it, and spare not, sir.

Third Play. Now by this silver, gentlemen, it is good money; would I had a hundred of them!

Second Play. We hope well, sir.—Th’ other pocket, and we are made men.

[Exeunt First and Second Players.

Sim. O neighbours, I begin to be sick of this fool, to see him thus cozened! I would make his case my own.

Third Play. Still would I meet with these things called cheaters.

Sim. A whoreson coxcomb; they have met with thee. I can no longer endure him with patience.

Third Play. O my rent! my whole year’s rent!

Sim. A murrain on you! This makes us landlords stay so long for our money.

Third Play. The cheaters have been here.

Sim. A scurvy hobby-horse, that could not leave his money with me, having such a charge about him! A pox on thee for an ass! thou play a clown! I will commit thee for offering it.—Officers, away with him!

Glov. What means your worship? why, you’ll spoil the play, sir.
Sim. Before the king of Kent shall be thus serv’d,
I’ll play the clown myself.—Away with him!