[Exit W. Q. Pawn.
As also to invite the like obedience
In other pusills[561] by our meek example.— [Aside.
So, is your trifle vanish’d?
B. B. Pawn. Trifle call you her? ’tis a good Pawn, sir;
Sure she’s the second Pawn in the White House,
And to the opening of the game I hold her.
B. Knight. Ay, you
Hold well for that, I know your play of old:
If there were more Queen’s Pawns, you’d ply the game
A great deal harder. Now, sir, we’re in private;
But what for the great work, the main existence,[562]
The hope monarchal?
B. B. Pawn. It goes on in this.
B. Knight. In this! I cannot see’t.
B. B. Pawn. You may deny so
A dial’s motion, ’cause you cannot see
The hand move, or a wind that rends the cedar.
B. Knight. Where stops the current of intelligence?
Your Father General, Bishop o' the Black House,
Complains for want of work.
B. B. Pawn. Here’s from all parts,
Sufficient to employ him; I receiv’d
A packet from th' Assistant Fathers lately;
Look, there is Anglica, this Gallica.
[Gives letters.
B. Knight. Ay, marry, sir, there’s some quick flesh in this.
B. B. Pawn. Germanica. [Gives letter.
B. Knight. I think they have seal’d this with butter.
B. B. Pawn. This Italica. [Gives letter.
B. Knight. They’ve put their pens the Hebrew way, methinks.
B. B. Pawn. Hispanica here. [Gives letter.
B. Knight. Hispanica! blind work ’tis; the Jesuit
Hath writ this with the juice of lemons sure,
It must be held close to the fire of purgatory
Ere’t can be read.
B. B. Pawn. You would not lose your jest, Knight,
Though it wounded your own fame.[563]
B. Knight. Curanda pecunia.
B. B. Pawn. Take heed, sir; we’re entrapp’d,—the White King’s Pawn.
Enter White King’s Pawn.
B. Knight. He’s made our own, man; half in voto yours,
His heart’s in the Black House: leave him to me.—
[Exit B. B. Pawn.
Most of all friends endear’d, preciously special!
W. Kg.'s Pawn. You see my outside, but you know my heart, Knight,
Great difference in the colour. There’s some intelligence; [Gives letter.
And as more ripens, so your knowledge still
Shall prove the richer: there shall nothing happen,
Believe it, to extenuate your cause,
Or to oppress her friends, but I will strive
To cross it with my counsel, purse, and power;
Keep all supplies back both in means and men
That may raise strength against you. We must part:
I dare no longer of this theme discuss;
The ear of state is quick and jealious.[564]
B. Knight. Excellent estimation! thou art valu’d
Above the fleet of gold that came short home.
[Exit W. Kg.’s Pawn.
Poor Jesuit-ridden soul! how art thou fool’d
Out of thy faith, from thy allegiance drawn!
Which way soe’er thou tak’st, thou’rt a lost Pawn.
[Exit.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Field between the two Houses.
Enter White Queen’s Pawn with a book in her hand.
W. Q. Pawn. And here again: [reads] It is the daughter’s duty
T' obey her confessor’s command in all things,
Without exception or expostulation:
’Tis the most general rule that e’er I heard[565] of;
Yet when I think how boundless virtue is,
Goodness and grace, ’tis gently[566] reconcil’d,
And then it appears well to have the power
Of the dispenser as uncircumscrib’d.
Enter Black Bishop’s Pawn.
B. B. Pawn. She’s hard upon’t; ’twas the most modest key
That I could use to open my intents:
What little or no pains goes to some people!
Hah! what have we here?[567] a seal’d note! whence this?
[Takes up a letter.
[Reads] To the Black Bishop’s Pawn these: how? to me?
Strange![568] who subscribes it? The Black King: what would he?

[Reads] Pawn sufficiently holy, but unmeasurably politic; we had late intelligence from our most industrious servant, famous in all parts of Europe, our Knight of the Black House, that you have at this instant in chase the White Queen’s Pawn, and very likely, by the carriage of your game, to entrap and take her: these are therefore to require you, by the burning affection I bear to the rape of devotion, that speedily, upon the surprisal of her, by all watchful advantage you make some attempt upon the White Queen’s person, whose fall or prostitution our lust most violently rages for.

Sir, after my desire hath took a julep
For its own inflammation, that yet scorches me,
I shall have cooler time to think of yours.
Sh’ath past the general rule, the large extent
Of our prescriptions for obedience;
And yet with what[569] alacrity of soul
Her eyes move on the letters!
W. Q. Pawn. Holy sir,
Too long I've miss’d you; O, your absence starves me!
Hasten for time’s redemption: worthy sir,
Lay your commands as thick and fast upon me
As you can speak ’em; how I thirst to hear ’em!
Set me to work upon this spacious virtue,
Which the poor span of life’s too narrow for,
Boundless obedience!
The humblest yet the mightiest of all duties,
Well here set down[570] a universal goodness.
B. B. Pawn. By holiness of garment, her safe innocence
Hath frighted the full meaning from itself;
She’s further off from understanding now
The language of my intent than at first meeting. [Aside.
W. Q. Pawn. For virtue’s sake, good sir, command me something;
Make trial of my duty in some small service;
And as you find the faith of my obedience there,
Then trust it with a greater.
B. B. Pawn. You speak sweetly:
I do command you first then——
W. Q. Pawn. With what joy
I do prepare my duty!
B. B. Pawn. To meet me,
And seal a kiss of love upon my lips.
W. Q. Pawn. Hah!
B. B. Pawn. At first disobedient! in[571] so little too!
How shall I trust you with a greater then,
Which was your own request?
W. Q. Pawn. Pray, send not back
Mine innocence to wound me; be more courteous.
I must confess, much[572] like an ignorant plaintiff, who,
Presuming on the fair path of his meaning,
Goes rashly on, till on a sudden brought
Into the wilderness of law by words
Dropt unadvisedly, hurts his good cause,
And gives his adversary advantage by’t,—
Apply it you can best, sir. If my obedience
And your command can find no better way,
Fond men command, and wantons best obey.
B. B. Pawn. If I can at that distance send you a blessing,
Is it not nearer to you in mine arms?
It flies from these lips dealt abroad in parcels;
And I, to honour thee above all daughters,
Invite thee home to th' House, where thou may’st surfeit
On that which others miserably pine for;
A favour which the daughters of great potentates
Would look of envy’s colour but to hear.
W. Q. Pawn. Good men may err sometimes; you’re mistaken sure:
If this be virtue’s path, ’tis a most strange one;
I never came this way before.
B. B. Pawn. That’s your ignorance;
And therefore shall that idiot still conduct you
That knows no way but one, nor ever seeks it?
If there be twenty ways to some poor village,
’Tis strange that virtue should be put to one.
Your fear is wondrous faulty; cast it from you;
'Twill gather else in time a disobedience
Too stubborn for my pardon.
W. Q. Pawn. Have I lock’d myself
At unawares into sin’s servitude
With more desire of goodness? Is this the top
Of all strict order, and the holiest
Of all societies, the three-vow’d people
For poverty, obedience, chastity,—
The last the most forgot? When a virgin’s ruin’d,
I see the great work of obedience
Is better than half finish’d.
B. B. Pawn. What a stranger
Are you to duty grown! what distance keep you!
Must I bid you come forward to a happiness
Yourself should sue for? ’twas ne’er so with me.
I dare not let this stubbornness be known,
'Twould bring such fierce hate on you: yet presume not
To make that courteous care a privilege
For wilful disobedience; it turns then
Into the blackness of a curse upon you:
Come, come, be nearer.
W. Q. Pawn. Nearer!
B. B. Pawn. Was that scorn?
I would not have it prove so for the hopes
Of the grand monarchy: if it were like it,
Let it not dare to stir[573] abroad again;
A stronger ill will cope with’t.
W. Q. Pawn. Bless me, threatens me,
And quite dismays the good strength that should help me!
I never was[574] so doubtful of my safety.[575]
B. B. Pawn. ’Twas but my jealousy; forgive me, sweetness:
Yours[576] is the house of meekness, and no venom lives
Under that roof. Be nearer: why so fearful?
Nearer the altar, the more safe and sacred.
W. Q. Pawn. But nearer to the offerer,[577] oft more wicked.
B. B. Pawn. A plain and most insufferable contempt!
My glory I have lost upon this woman,
In freely offering that she should have kneel’d
A year in vain for; my respect is darken’d.
Give me my reverence again thou’st robb’d me of
In thy[578] repulse; thou shalt not carry’t hence.
W. Q. Pawn. Sir?
B. B. Pawn. Thou’rt too great a winner to depart,
And I too deep[579] a loser to give way to’t.
W. Q. Pawn. O heaven!
B. B. Pawn. Lay me down reputation
Before thou stirr’st; thy nice virginity
Is recompence too little for my love,[580]
’Tis well if I accept of that for both:
Thy loss is but thine own, there’s art to help thee,
And fools to pass thee to; in my discovery
The whole Society suffers, and in that
The hope of absolute monarchy eclips’d.
Assurance thou canst make[581] none for thy secrecy
But by[582] thy honour’s loss; that act must awe thee.
W. Q. Pawn. O my distrest condition!
B. B. Pawn. Dost thou[583] weep?
If thou hadst any pity, this necessity
Would wring it from thee: I must else destroy thee;
We must not trust the policy of Europe
Upon a woman’s tongue.
W. Q. Pawn. Then take my life, sir,
And leave mine honour for my guide to heaven!
B. B. Pawn. Take heed I take not both, which I have vow’d,
If longer thou resist[584] me.
W. Q. Pawn. Help! O, help!
B. B. Pawn. Art thou so cruel, for an honour’s bubble
T' undo a whole fraternity, and disperse
The secrets of most princes lock’d in us?
W. Q. Pawn. For heaven and virtue’s sake!
B. B. Pawn. Must force confound[585]—
[Noise within.
Hah! what’s that?—Silence, if fair worth be in thee.
W. Q. Pawn. I'll venture my escape upon all dangers now.
B. B. Pawn. Who comes to take me? let me see that[586] Pawn’s face,
Or his proud tympanous master, swell’d with state-wind,
Which being once prick’d i' the convocation-house,
The corrupt air puffs out, and he falls shrivell’d.
W. Q. Pawn. I will discover thee, arch-hypocrite,
To all the kindreds of the earth. [Exit.
B. B. Pawn. Confusion!
In that voice rings th' alarum of my undoing.
How, which way ’scap’d she from me?
Enter Black Queen’s Pawn.
B. Q. Pawn. Are you mad?
Can lust infatuate a man so hopeful?
No patience in your blood? the dog-star reigns, sure:
Time and fair temper would have wrought her pliant.[587]
I spied a Pawn o' the White House walk near us,
And made that noise on purpose to give warning—
For mine own turn, which end in all I work for. [Aside.
B. B. Pawn. Methinks I stand over a powder-vault,
And the match now a-kindling: what’s to be done?
B. Q. Pawn. Ask the Black Bishop’s counsel; you’re his Pawn;
’Tis his own case, he will defend you mainly;
And happily here he comes, with the Black Knight too.
Enter Black Bishop and Black Knight.
B. Bishop. O, you’ve made noble work for the White House yonder!
This act will fill the adversary’s mouth,
And blow the Lutherans' cheeks till they crack again.
B. Knight. This will advance the great monarchal business
In all parts well, and help the agents forward!
What I in seven year labour’d to accomplish,
One minute sets back by some codpiece college still.
B. B. Pawn. I dwell not, sir, alone in this default,
The Black House yields me partners.
B. Bishop. All more cautelous.[588]
B. Knight. Qui caute, caste; that’s my motto ever;
I've travell’d with that word[589] over most kingdoms,
And lain safe with all nations; of a leaking bottom,
I've been as often toss’d on Venus' seas
As trimmer, fresher vessels, when sounder barks
Have lain at anchor, that is, kept the door.
B. Bishop. She hath no witness then?
B. B. Pawn. None, none.
B. Knight. Gross! witness?
When went a man of his Society
To mischief with a witness?
B. Bishop. I have done’t then:
Away upon the wings of speed! take post-horse,
Cast thirty leagues of earth behind thee suddenly;
Leave letters ante-dated with our House
Ten days at least from this.
B. Knight. Bishop, I taste thee;
Good, strong, episcopal counsel! take a bottle on’t,
'Twill serve thee all thy journey.
B. B. Pawn. But, good sir,
How for my getting forth unspied?
B. Bishop.[590] There’s check again.
B. Q. Pawn. No, I'll help that.
B. Knight. Well said, my bouncing Jesuitess!
B. Q. Pawn. There lies a secret vault.
B. Knight. Away, make haste then!
B. B. Pawn. Run for my cabinet of intelligences,
For fear they search the house. [Exit B. Q. Pawn.]—Good Bishop, burn ’em rather;
I cannot stand to pick ’em now.
B. Bishop. Begone!
The danger’s all in you.
[Exit B. B. Pawn.
Re-enter Black Queen’s Pawn with cabinet.
B. Knight. Let me see, Queen’s Pawn:
How formally hath[591] pack’d up his intelligences!
Hath laid them all in truckle-beds, methinks,
And, like court-harbingers, hath writ their names
In chalk upon their chambers: Anglica,—
O, this is the English House: what news there, trow?[592]
ah, by this light, most of these are bawdy epistles!
Time they were burnt indeed! whole bundles of them;
Here’s from his daughter Blanch and daughter Bridget,
From their safe sanctuary in the White-Friars;
These from two tender sisters of Compassion
In the bowels of Bloomsbury;
These from the nunnery in Drury Lane.
A fire, a fire, good Jesuitess, a fire!—
What have you there?
B. Bishop. A note, sir, of state policy,
And an[593] exceeding safe one.
B. Knight. Pray, let’s see it, sir. [Reads.
To sell away all the powder in a kingdom,
To prevent blowing up: that’s safe, I'll able[594] it.
Here’s a facetious observation now,
And fits my humour better; he writes here,
Some wives in England will commit adultery,
And then send to Rome for a bull for their husbands.
B. Bishop. Have they those shifts?
B. Knight. O, there’s no female[s] breathing
Sweeter and subtler!—Here, wench, take these papers,
Scorch me ’em[595] soundly, burn ’em to French russet,
And put ’em in again.
B. Bishop. Why, what’s your mystery?
B. Knight. O, sir, ’twill mock the adversary strangely,
If e’er the House be search’d: ’twas done in Venice
Upon the Jesuitical expulse there,
When the Inquisitors came all[596] spectacled
To pick out syllables out o' the dung of treason,
As children pick out cherry-stones, yet found none
But what they made themselves with ends of letters.—
Do as I bid you, Pawn.
[Exeunt B. Knight and B. Bishop.
B. Q. Pawn. Fear not: in all,
I love roguery too well to let it fall.—
Enter Black Knight’s Pawn.
How now, what news with you?
B. Kt.'s Pawn. The sting of conscience
Afflicts me so for that inhuman violence
On the White Bishop’s Pawn, it takes away
My joy, my rest.
B. Q. Pawn. This ’tis to make an eunuch!
You made a sport on’t then.
B. Kt.'s Pawn. Cease aggravation:
I come to be absolv’d for’t: where’s my confessor?
Why dost thou point to the ground?
B. Q. Pawn. ’Cause he went that way.
B. Kt.'s Pawn. What’s that?
B. Q. Pawn. Come, help me in[597] with this cabinet;
And after I have sing’d these papers throughly,
I'll tell thee a strange story.
B. Kt.'s Pawn. If’t be sad,
’Tis welcome.
B. Q. Pawn. ’Tis not troubled with much mirth, sir.
[Exeunt.
Enter Fat Bishop[598] and Fat Bishop’s Pawn.
F. Bishop. Pawn.
F. B. Pawn. I attend at your great holiness' service.
F. Bishop. For great, I grant you, but for greatly holy,
There the soil alters: fat cathedral bodies
Have very often but lean little souls,
Much like the lady in the lobster’s head,
A great deal of shell and garbage of all colours,
But the pure part, that should take wings and mount,
Is at last gasp; as if a man should gape,
And from his huge bulk let forth a butterfly,
Like those big-bellied mountains, which the poet
Delivers, that are brought to bed with mouse-flesh.
Are my books[599] printed, Pawn, my last invective
'Gainst the Black House?
F. B. Pawn. Ready for publication,
For I saw perfect books this morning, sir.
F. Bishop. Fetch me a few, which I will instantly
Distribute ’mongst the White House.
F. B. Pawn. With all speed, sir. [Exit.
F. Bishop. ’Tis a most lordly life to rail at ease,
Sit, eat and drink[600] upon the fat of one kingdom,
And rail upon another with the juice on’t.
I've writ this book out of the strength and marrow
Of six and thirty dishes at a meal,
But most on’t out of cullis[601] of cock-sparrows;
'Twill stick and glue the faster to the adversary,
'Twill slit the throat of their most calvish cause;
And yet I ate but little butcher’s meat
In the conception.
Of all things I commend the White House best
For plenty and variety of victuals:
When I was one of the Black side profess’d,
My flesh fell half a cubit; time to turn
When mine own ribs revolted. But to say true,
I've no preferment yet that’s suitable
To the greatness of my person and my parts:
I grant I live at ease, for I am made
The master of the beds,[602] the long acre of beds;
But there’s no marigolds that shut and open,[603]
Flower-gentles, Venus-bath[s], apples of love,
Pinks, hyacinths, honeysuckles, daffadowndillies:
There was a time I had more such drabs than beds;
Now I have more beds than drabs;
Yet there’s no eminent trader deals in wholesale,
But she and I have clapt a bargain up,
Let in at water-gate, for which I've rack’d
My tenants' purse-strings that they’ve twang’d again.
Re-enter Black Bishop and Black Knight.
Yonder Black Knight, the fistula[604] of Europe,
Whose disease once I undertook to cure
With a High Holborn halter, when he last
Vouchsaf’d to peep into my privileg’d lodgings,
He saw good store of plate there and rich hangings;
He knew I brought none to the White House with me:
I have not lost the use of my profession
Since I turn’d White-House Bishop.
Re-enter Fat Bishop’s Pawn with books.
B. Knight. Look, more books yet!
Yond greasy turncoat gormandising prelate
Doth work our House more mischief by his scripts,
His fat and fulsome volumes, than the whole
Body of th' adverse party.
B. Bishop. O, it were
A masterpiece of serpent subtlety
To fetch him o' this side again!
B. Knight. And then damn him
Into the bag for ever, or expose him
Against the adverse part, which now he feeds upon;
And that would double-damn him. My revenge
Hath prompted me already: I'll confound him
On both sides for the physic he prescrib’d,[605]
And the base surgeon he provided[606] for me.
I'll tell thee what a most uncatholic jest[607]
He put upon me once when my pain tortur’d me:
He told me he had found a present cure for me,
Which I grew proud on, and observ’d him seriously;
What think you ’t was? being execution-day,
He shew’d the hangman to me out at window,
The common hangman!
B. Bishop. O, insufferable!
B. Knight. I'll make him the balloon-ball[608] of the churches,
And both the sides shall toss him: he looks like one,
A thing swell’d up with mingled drink and urine,
And will bound well from one side to another.
Come, you shall write; our second bishop absent,[609]
(Which hath yet no employment in the game,
Perhaps nor ever shall; it may be won
Without his motion, it rests most in ours,)
He shall be flatter’d with sede vacante;
Make him believe he comes into his place,
And that will fetch him with a vengeance to us;
For I know powder is not more ambitious
When the match meets it, than his mind, for mounting;
As covetous and lecherous——
B. Bishop. No more now, sir;

Enter on one side, White King, White Queen, White Knight, White Duke, White Bishop, White King’s Pawn, and White Bishop’s Pawn; on the other, Black King, Black Queen, Black Duke, and Black Knight’s Pawn.

Both the sides fill.
W. King. This hath been look’d for long.
F. Bishop. The stronger sting it shoots into the blood
Of the Black adversary: I'm asham’d now
I was theirs ever; what a lump was I
When I was led in ignorance and blindness![610]
I must confess,[611]
I've all my lifetime play’d the fool till now.
B. Knight. And now he plays two parts, the fool and knave.
F. Bishop. There is my recantation in the last leaf,
Writ, like a Ciceronian, in pure Latin.
W. Bishop.[612] Pure honesty, the plainer Latin serves then.
B. Knight. Plague on those pestilent pamphlets! those are they
That wound our cause to th' heart.
B. Bishop. Here comes more anger.
Enter White Queen’s Pawn.
B. Knight. But we come well provided for this storm.
W. Queen. Is this my Pawn, she that should guard our person,
Or some pale figure of dejection
Her shape usurping? Sorrow and affrightment
Have[613] prevail’d strangely with her.
W. Q. Pawn. King of integrity,
Queen of the same, and all the House, professors
Of noble candour, uncorrupted justice,
And truth of heart, through my alone discovery—
My life and honour wondrously preserv’d—
I bring into your knowledge with my sufferings,
Fearful affrightments, and heart-killing terrors:[614]
The great incendiary of Christendom,
The absolut’st abuser of true sanctity,
Fair peace, and holy order, can be found
In any part o' th' universal globe;
Who, making meek devotion keep the door,—
His lips being full of holy zeal at first,—
Would have committed a foul rape upon me.
W. Queen. Hah!
W. King. A rape? that’s foul indeed; the very sound
To our ear fouler than th' offence itself
To some kings of the earth.
W. Q. Pawn. Sir, to proceed,—
Gladly I offer’d life to preserve honour,
Which would not be accepted without both,
The chief of his ill aim being at mine honour;
Till heaven was pleas’d, by some unlook’d-for accident,
To give me courage to redeem myself.
W. King. When we find desperate sins in ill men’s companies,
We place a charitable sorrow there,
But custom, and their leprous inclination,
Quit[615] us of wonder,[616] for our expectation
Is answer’d in their lives; but to find sin,
Yea, and a masterpiece of darkness, shelter’d
Under a robe of sanctity, is able
To draw all wonder to that monster only,
And leave created monsters unadmir’d.
The pride of him that took first fall for pride
Is to be angel-shap’d, and imitate
The form from whence he fell; but this offender,
Far baser than sin’s master, fix’d by vow
To holy order, which is angels' method,
Takes pride to use that shape to be a devil.
It grieves me that my knowledge must be tainted
With his infected name:
O, rather with thy finger point him out!
W. Q. Pawn. The place which he should fill is void, my lord,
His guilt hath scar’d[617] him,—the Black Bishop’s Pawn.
B. Bishop. Hah! mine? my Pawn? the glory of his[618] order,
The prime and president zealot of the earth?
Impudent Pawn, for thy sake at this minute
Modesty suffers, all that’s virtuous blushes,
And truth’s self, like the sun vex’d with a mist,
Looks red with anger.
W. Bishop. Be not you drunk with rage too.
B. Bishop.[619] Sober sincerity, nor you [with] a cup
Spic’d with hypocrisy.
W. Knight. You name there, Bishop,
But your own Christmas-bowl, your morning’s draught,
Next your episcopal heart all the twelve days,
Which smack you cannot leave all the year after.[620]
B. Knight. A shrewd retort!
Has made our Bishop smell of burning too:
Would I stood further off! were’t no impeachment
To my honour or[621] the game, would they’d play faster!