Act II, Scene II — [4156]…

Act II, Scene II — [4156]

Enter ITHOCLES, alone.

Ith. Ambition! ’t is of vipers’ breed: it gnaws A passage through the womb that gave it motion. Ambition, like a seeled[4157] dove, mounts upward, Higher and higher still, to perch on clouds, But tumbles headlong down with heavier ruin. So squibs and crackers fly into the air, 6 Then, only breaking with a noise, they vanish In stench and smoke. Morality, appli’d To timely practice, keeps the soul in tune, At whose sweet music all our actions dance: 10 But this is form of books and school-tradition; It physics not the sickness of a mind Broken with griefs: strong fevers are not eas’d With counsel, but with best receipts and means; Means, speedy means and certain; that’s the cure. 15

Enter ARMOSTES and CROTOLON.

Arm. You stick, Lord Crotolon, upon a point Too nice and too unnecessary; Prophilus Is every way desertful. I am confident Your wisdom is too ripe to need instruction From your son’s tutelage.

Crot. Yet not so ripe, 20 My Lord Armostes, that it dares to dote Upon the painted meat[4158] of smooth persuasion, Which tempts me to a breach of faith.

Ith. Not yet Resolv’d, my lord? Why, if your son’s consent Be so available, we’ll write to Athens 25 For his repair to Sparta. The king’s hand Will join with our desires; he has been mov’d to’t.

Arm. Yes, and the king himself importun’d Crotolon For a dispatch.

Crot. Kings may command; their wills Are laws not to be questioned.

Ith. By this marriage 30 You knit an union so devout, so hearty, Between your loves to me and mine to yours, As if mine own blood had an interest in it; For Prophilus is mine, and I am his.

Crot. My lord, my lord!—

Ith. What, good sir? Speak your thought. 35

Crot. Had this sincerity been real once, My Orgilus had not been now unwiv’d, Nor your lost sister buried in a bride-bed. Your uncle here, Armostes, knows this truth; For had your father Thrasus liv’d,—but peace Dwell in his grave! I have done.

Arm. Y’ are bold and bitter. 41

Ith. [Aside.] ’A presses home the injury; it smarts.— No reprehensions, uncle; I deserve ’em. Yet, gentle sir, consider what the heat Of an unsteady youth, a giddy brain, 45 Green indiscretion, flattery of greatness, Rawness of judgment, wilfulness in folly, Thoughts vagrant as the wind and as uncertain, Might lead a boy in years to:—’t was a fault, A capital fault; for then I could not dive 50 Into the secrets of commanding love; Since when, experience, by the extremes[4159] (in others), Hath forc’d me collect.[4160] And, trust me, Crotolon, I will redeem those wrongs with any service Your satisfaction can require for current. 55

Arm. The[4161] acknowledgment is satisfaction: What would you more?

Crot. I’m conquer’d: if Euphranea Herself admit the motion, let it be so; I doubt not my son’s liking.

Ith. Use my fortunes, Life, power, sword, and heart,—all are your own. 60

Arm. The princess, with your sister.

Enter CALANTHA, PENTHEA, EUPHRANEA, CHRISTALLA, PHILEMA, GRAUSIS, BASSANES, and PROPHILUS.

Cal. I present ye A stranger here in court, my lord; for did not Desire of seeing you draw her abroad, We had not been made happy in her company.

Ith. You are a gracious princess.—Sister, wedlock 65 Holds too severe a passion in your nature, Which can engross all duty to your husband, Without attendance on so dear a mistress.— [To BASSANES.] ’T is not my brother’s pleasure, I presume, T’ immure her in a chamber.

Bass. ’T is her will; 70 She governs her own hours. Noble Ithocles, We thank the gods for your success and welfare: Our lady has of late been indispos’d, Else we had waited on you with the first.

Ith. How does Penthea now?

Pen. You best know, brother, 75 From whom my health and comforts are deriv’d.

Bass. [Aside.] I like the answer well; ’t is sad and modest. There may be tricks yet, tricks.—Have an eye, Grausis!

Cal. Now, Crotolon, the suit we join’d in must not Fall by too long demur.

Crot. ’T is granted, princess, 80 For my part.

Arm. With condition, that his son Favour the contract.

Cal. Such delay is easy.— The joys of marriage make thee, Prophilus, A proud deserver of Euphranea’s love, And her of thy desert!

Pro. Most sweetly gracious! 85

Bass. The joys of marriage are the heaven on earth, Life’s paradise, great princess, the soul’s quiet, Sinews of concord, earthly immortality, Eternity of pleasures;—no restoratives Like to a constant woman!—[Aside.] But where is she? 90 ’T would puzzle all the gods but to create Such a new monster.—I can speak by proof, For I rest in Elysium; ’t is my happiness.

Crot. Euphranea, how are you resolv’d, speak freely, In your affections to this gentleman? 95

Euph. Nor more nor less than as his love assures me; Which—if your liking with my brother’s warrants— I cannot but approve in all points worthy.

Crot. So, so!—[To Prophilus.] I know your answer.

Ith. ’T had been pity To sunder hearts so equally consented. 100

Enter HEMOPHIL.

Hem. The king, Lord Ithocles, commands your presence;— And, fairest princess, yours.

Cal. We will attend him.

Enter GRONEAS.

Gro. Where are the lords? All must unto the king Without delay: the Prince of Argos—

Cal. Well, sir?

Gro. Is coming to the court, sweet lady.

Cal. How! 105 The Prince of Argos?

Gro. ’T was my fortune, madam, T’ enjoy the honour of these happy tidings.

Ith. Penthea!—

Pen. Brother?

Ith. Let me an hour hence Meet you alone within the palace-grove; 109 I have some secret with you.—Prithee, friend, Conduct her thither, and have special care The walks be clear’d of any to disturb us.

Pro. I shall.

Bass. [Aside.] How ’s that?

Ith. Alone, pray be alone.— I am your creature, princess.—On, my lords!

Exeunt all but BASSANES.

Bass. Alone! alone! What means that word “alone”? 115 Why might not I be there?—hum!—he ’s her brother. Brothers and sisters are but flesh and blood, And this same whoreson court-ease is temptation To a rebellion in the veins;—besides, 119 His fine friend Prophilus must be her guardian: Why may not he dispatch a business nimbly Before the other come?—or—pand’ring, pand’ring For one another,—be ’t to sister, mother, Wife, cousin, anything,—’mongst youths of mettle Is in request; it is so—stubborn fate! 125 But if I be a cuckold, and can know it, I will be fell, and fell.

Re-enter GRONEAS.

Gro. My lord, y ’are call’d for.

Bass. Most heartily I thank ye. Where ’s my wife, pray?

Gro. Retir’d amongst the ladies.

Bass. Still I thank ye. There ’s an old waiter with her; saw you her too? 130

Gro. She sits i’ th’ presence-lobby fast asleep, sir.

Bass. Asleep! asleep, sir!

Gro. Is your lordship troubled? You will not to the king?

Bass. Your humblest vassal.

Gro. Your servant, my good lord.

Bass. I wait your footsteps. Exeunt.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Act II, Scene III — [4162]

Enter PROPHILUS and PENTHEA.

Pro. In this walk, lady, will your brother find you: And, with your favour, give me leave a little To work a preparation. In his fashion I have observ’d of late some kind of slackness To such alacrity as nature [once] 5 And custom took delight in; sadness grows Upon his recreations, which he hoards In such a willing silence, that to question The grounds will argue little skill in friendship, And less good manners.

Pen. Sir, I ’m not inquisitive 10 Of secrecies without an invitation.

Pro. With pardon, lady, not a syllable Of mine implies so rude a sense; the drift— Enter ORGILUS, [disguised as before.] [To ORG.] Do thy best To make this lady merry for an hour. Exit. 15

Org. Your will shall be a law, sir.

Pen. Prithee, leave me; I have some private thoughts I would account with; Use thou thine own.

Org. Speak on, fair nymph; our souls Can dance as well to music of the spheres As any’s who have feasted with the gods. 20

Pen. Your school-terms are too troublesome.

Org. What Heaven Refines mortality from dross of earth But such as uncompounded beauty hallows With glorified perfection?

Pen. Set thy wits In a less wild proportion.

Org. Time can never 25 On the white table of unguilty faith Write counterfeit dishonour; turn those eyes, The arrows of pure love, upon that fire, Which once rose to a flame, perfum’d with vows As sweetly scented as the incense smoking 30 On Vesta’s altars ... [4163] ... the holiest odours, virgin’s tears, ... sprinkled, like dews, to feed ’em And to increase their fervour.

Pen. Be not frantic.

Org. All pleasures are but mere imagination. Feeding the hungry appetite with steam 36 And sight of banquet, whilst the body pines, Not relishing the real taste of food: Such is the leanness of a heart divided From intercourse of troth-contracted loves; 40 No horror should deface that precious figure Seal’d with the lively stamp of equal souls.

Pen. Away! some Fury hath bewitch’d thy tongue, The breath of ignorance, that flies from thence, Ripens a knowledge in me of afflictions 45 Above all suff’rance.—Thing of talk, begone! Begone, without reply!

Org. Be just, Penthea, In thy commands; when thou send’st forth a doom Of banishment, know first on whom it lights. Thus I take off the shroud, in which my cares 50 Are folded up from view of common eyes. [Throws off his Scholar’s dress.] What is thy sentence next?

Pen. Rash man! thou layest A blemish on mine honour, with the hazard Of thy too-desperate life: yet I profess, By all the laws of ceremonious wedlock, 55 I have not given admittance to one thought Of female change since cruelty enforc’d Divorce betwixt my body and my heart. Why would you fall from goodness thus?

Org. O, rather Examine me, how I could live to say 60 I have been much, much wrong’d. ’T is for thy sake I put on this imposture: dear Penthea, If thy soft bosom be not turn’d to marble, Thou ’lt pity our calamities; my interest Confirms me thou art mine still.

Pen. Lend your hand; 65 With both of mine I clasp it thus, thus kiss it, Thus kneel before ye.

Org. You instruct my duty.

Pen. We may stand up.—Have you aught else to urge Of new demand? As for the old, forget it; ’T is buried in an everlasting silence, 70 And shall be, shall be ever. What more would ye?

Org. I would possess my wife; the equity Of very reason bids me.

Pen. Is that all?

Org. Why, ’t is the all of me, myself.

Pen. Remove Your steps some distance from me:—at this space 75 A few words I dare change; but first put on Your borrowed shape.

Org. You are obey’d; ’t is done. [He resumes his disguise.]

Pen. How, Orgilus, by promise I was thine The heavens do witness: they can witness too A rape done on my truth: how I do love thee 80 Yet, Orgilus, and yet, must best appear In tendering thy freedom; for I find The constant preservation of thy merit, By thy not daring to attempt my fame With injury of any loose conceit, 85 Which might give deeper wounds to discontents. Continue this fair race:[4164] then, though I cannot Add to thy comfort, yet I shall more often Remember from what fortune I am fallen, 89 And pity mine own ruin.—Live, live happy,— Happy in thy next choice, that thou mayst people This barren age with virtues in thy issue! And O, when thou art married, think on me With mercy, not contempt! I hope thy wife, Hearing my story, will not scorn my fall.— 95 Now let us part.

Org. Part! yet advise thee better: Penthea is the wife to Orgilus, And ever shall be.

Pen. Never shall nor will.

Org. How!

Pen. Hear me; in a word I ’ll tell thee why. The virgin-dowry which my birth bestow’d 100 Is ravish’d by another; my true love Abhors to think that Orgilus deserv’d No better favours than a second bed.

Org. I must not take this reason.

Pen. To confirm it Should I outlive my bondage, let me meet 105 Another worse than this and less desir’d, If, of all men alive, thou shouldst but touch My lip or hand again!

Org. Penthea, now I tell ye, you grow wanton in my sufferance: Come, sweet, th’ art mine.

Pen. Uncivil sir, forbear! 110 Or I can turn affection into vengeance; Your reputation, if you value any, Lies bleeding at my feet. Unworthy man, If ever henceforth thou appear in language, Message, or letter, to betray my frailty, 115 I ’ll call thy former protestations lust, And curse my stars for forfeit of my judgment. Go thou, fit only for disguise, and walks,[4165] To hide thy shame: this once I spare thy life. I laugh at mine own confidence; my sorrows By thee are made inferior to my fortunes. 121 If ever thou didst harbour worthy love, Dare not to answer. My good genius guide me, That I may never see thee more!—Go from me!

Org. I ’ll tear my veil of politic French off, And stand up like a man resolv’d to do: 126 Action, not words, shall show me.—O Penthea! Exit.

Pen. ’A sighed my name, sure, as he parted from me: I fear I was too rough. Alas, poor gentleman ’A look’d not like the ruins of his youth, 130 But like the ruins of those ruins. Honour, How much we fight with weakness to preserve thee! [Walks aside.]

Enter BASSANES and GRAUSIS.

Bass. Fie on thee! damn thee, rotten maggot, damn thee! Sleep? sleep at court? and now? Aches,[4166] convulsions, Imposthumes, rheums, gouts, palsies, clog thy bones 135 A dozen years more yet!

Grau. Now y’ are in humours.

Bass. She ’s by herself, there ’s hope of that; she ’s sad too; She ’s in strong contemplation; yes, and fixt: The signs are wholesome.

Grau. Very wholesome, truly.

Bass. Hold your chops,[4167] nightmare!—Lady, come; your brother 140 Is carried to his closet; you must thither.

Pen. Not well, my lord?

Bass. A sudden fit; ’t will off! Some surfeit or disorder.—How dost, dearest?

Pen. Your news is none o’ the best.

Re-enter PROPHILUS.

Pro. The chief of men, The excellentest Ithocles, desires 145 Your presence, madam.

Bass. We are hasting to him.

Pen. In vain we labour in this course of life To piece our journey out at length, or crave Respite of breath: our home is in the grave.

Bass. Perfect philosophy!

[Pen.] Then let us care 150 To live so, that our reckonings may fall even When we ’re to make account.

Pro. He cannot fear Who builds on noble grounds: sickness or pain Is the deserver’s exercise;[4168] and such Your virtuous brother to the world is known. Speak comfort to him, lady; be all gentle: 156 Stars fall but in the grossness of our sight; A good man dying, th’ earth doth lose a light. Exeunt omnes.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Act III, Scene I — [4169]

Enter TECNICUS, and ORGILUS in his own shape.

Tec. Be well advis’d; let not a resolution Of giddy rashness choke the breath of reason.

Org. It shall not, most sage master.

Tec. I am jealous;[4170] For if the borrowed shape so late put on Inferr’d a consequence, we must conclude 5 Some violent design of sudden nature Hath shook that shadow off, to fly upon A new-hatch’d execution. Orgilus, Take heed thou hast not, under our integrity, Shrouded unlawful plots; our mortal eyes 10 Pierce not the secrets of your heart, the gods Are only privy to them.

Org. Learned Tecnicus, Such doubts are causeless; and, to clear the truth From misconceit, the present state commands me. The Prince of Argos comes himself in person 15 In quest of great Calantha for his bride, Our kingdom’s heir; besides, mine only sister, Euphranea, is dispos’d to Prophilus; Lastly, the king is sending letters for me To Athens, for my quick repair to court: 20 Please to accept these reasons.

Tec. Just ones, Orgilus, Not to be contradicted: yet beware Of an unsure foundation; no fair colours Can fortify a building faintly jointed. I have observ’d a growth in thy aspect 25 Of dangerous extent, sudden, and—look to ’t— I might add, certain—

Org. My aspect! Could art Run through mine inmost thoughts, it should not sift An inclination there more than what suited With justice of mine honour.

Tec. I believe it. 30 But know then, Orgilus, what honour is. Honour consists not in a bare opinion By doing any act that feeds content, Brave in appearance, ’cause we think it brave; Such honour comes by accident, not nature, 35 Proceeding from the vices of our passion, Which makes our reason drunk: but real honour Is the reward of virtue, and acquir’d By justice, or by valour which for basis Hath justice to uphold it. He then fails 40 In honour, who for lucre [or] revenge Commits thefts, murders, treasons, and adulteries, With suchlike, by intrenching on just laws, Whose sovereignty is best preserv’d by justice. Thus, as you see how honour must be grounded On knowledge, not opinion,—for opinion 46 Relies on probability and accident, But knowledge on necessity and truth,— I leave thee to the fit consideration Of what becomes the grace of real honour, 50 Wishing success to all thy virtuous meanings.

Org. The gods increase thy wisdom, reverend oracle, And in thy precepts make me ever thrifty![4171] Exit.

Tec. I thank thy wish. Much mystery of fate Lies hid in that man’s fortunes; curiosity 55 May lead his actions into rare attempts:— But let the gods be moderators still; No human power can prevent their will. Enter ARMOSTES [with a casket]. From whence come ye?

Arm. From King Amyclas,—pardon My interruption of your studies.—Here, 60 In this seal’d box, he sends a treasure [to you,] Dear to him as his crown. ’A prays your gravity You would examine, ponder, sift, and bolt The pith and circumstance of every tittle The scroll within contains.

Tec. What is ’t, Armostes? 65

Arm. It is the health of Sparta, the king’s life, Sinews and safety of the commonwealth; The sum of what the oracle deliver’d When last he visited the prophetic temple At Delphos: what his reasons are, for which, 70 After so long a silence, he requires Your counsel now, grave man, his majesty Will soon himself acquaint you with.

Tec. [Takes the casket.] Apollo Inspire my intellect!—The Prince of Argos Is entertain’d?

Arm. He is; and has demanded 75 Our princess for his wife; which I conceive One special cause the king importunes you For resolution of the oracle.

Tec. My duty to the king, good peace to Sparta, And fair day to Armostes!

Arm. Like to Tecnicus! Exeunt. 80

[SCENE II.][4172]

Soft music, during which time enter PROPHILUS, BASSANES, PENTHEA, GRAUSIS, passing over the stage. BASSANES and GRAUSIS enter again softly, stealing to several stands, and listen.

A SONG.

Can you paint a thought? or number Every fancy in a slumber? Can you count soft minutes roving From a dial’s point by moving? Can you grasp a sigh? or, lastly, 5 Rob a virgin’s honour chastely? No, O, no! yet you may Sooner do both that and this, This and that, and never miss, Than by any praise display 10 Beauty ’s beauty; such a glory, As beyond all fate, all story, All arms, all arts, All loves, all hearts, Greater than those or they, 15 Do, shall, and must obey.

Bass. All silent, calm, secure.—Grausis, no creaking? No noise? Dost hear nothing?

Grau. Not a mouse, Or whisper of the wind.

Bass. The floor is matted; The bedposts sure are steel or marble.—Soldiers 20 Should not affect, methinks, strains so effeminate: Sounds of such delicacy are but fawnings Upon the sloth of luxury, they heighten Cinders of covert lust up to a flame.

Grau. What do you mean, my lord?—speak low; that gabbling 25 Of yours will but undo us.

Bass. Chamber-combats Are felt, not heard.

Pro. [within.] ’A wakes.

Bass. What ’s that?

Ith. [within.] Who ’s there? Sister?—All quit the room else.

Bass. ’T is consented!

Re-enter PROPHILUS.

Pro. Lord Bassanes, your brother would be private, We must forbear; his sleep hath newly left him. 30 Please ye withdraw.

Bass. By any means; ’t is fit.

Pro. Pray, gentlewoman, walk too.

Grau. Yes, I will, sir. Exeunt omnes.

ITHOCLES discovered in a chair, and PENTHEA [beside him].

Ith. Sit nearer, sister to me; nearer yet, We had one father, in one womb took life, 34 Were brought up twins together, yet have liv’d At distance, like two strangers. I could wish That the first pillow whereon I was cradled Had prov’d to me a grave.

Pen. You had been happy: Then had you never known that sin of life Which blots all following glories with a vengeance, 40 For forfeiting the last will of the dead, From whom you had your being.

Ith. Sad Penthea, Thou canst not be too cruel; my rash spleen Hath with a violent hand pluck’d from thy bosom A love-blest[4173] heart, to grind it into dust; 45 For which mine ’s now a-breaking.

Pen. Not yet. Heaven, I do beseech thee! First let some wild fires Scorch, not consume it! may the heat be cherisht With desires infinite, but hopes impossible!

Ith. Wrong’d soul, thy prayers are heard.

Pen. Here, lo, I breathe, 50 A miserable creature, led to ruin By an unnatural brother!

Ith. I consume In languishing affections for that trespass; Yet cannot die.

Pen. The handmaid to the wages 54 Of country toil drinks the untroubled streams With leaping kids and with the bleating lambs, And so allays her thirst secure; whiles I Quench my hot sighs with fleetings[4174] of my tears.

Ith. The labourer doth eat his coarsest bread, Earn’d with his sweat, and lies him down to sleep; 60 While[4175] every bit I touch turns in digestion To gall as bitter as Penthea’s curse. Put me to any penance for my tyranny, And I will call thee merciful.

Pen. Pray kill me, Rid me from living with a jealous husband; 65 Then we will join in friendship, be again Brother and sister.—Kill me, pray; nay, will ye?

Ith. How does thy lord esteem thee?

Pen. Such an one As only you have made me; a faith-breaker, A spotted whore:—forgive me, I am one 70 In act, not in desires, the gods must witness.

Ith. Thou dost belie thy friend.

Pen. I do not, Ithocles; For she that’s wife to Orgilus, and lives In known adultery with Bassanes, Is at the best a whore. Wilt kill me now? 75 The ashes of our parents will assume Some dreadful figure, and appear to charge Thy bloody guilt, that hast betray’d their name To infamy in this reproachful match.

Ith. After my victories abroad, at home 80 I meet despair; ingratitude of nature Hath made my actions monstrous. Thou shalt stand A deity, my sister, and be worshipp’d For thy resolved martyrdom; wrong’d maids And married wives shall to thy hallowed shrine 85 Offer their orisons, and sacrifice Pure turtles, crown’d with myrtle; if thy pity Unto a yielding brother’s pressure lend One finger but to ease it.

Pen. O, no more!

Ith. Death waits to waft me to the Stygian banks, 90 And free me from this chaos of my bondage; And till thou wilt forgive, I must endure.

Pen. Who is the saint you serve?

Ith. Friendship, or [nearness][4176] Of birth to any but my sister, durst not Have mov’d that question; [’t is][4177] a secret, sister, 95 I dare not murmur to myself.

Pen. Let me, By your new protestations I conjure ye, Partake her name.

Ith. Her name?—’tis—’tis—I dare not.

Pen. All your respects are forg’d.[4178]

Ith. They are not.—Peace! Calantha is—the princess—the king’s daughter— 100 Sole heir of Sparta.—Me, most miserable Do I now love thee? For my injuries Revenge thyself with bravery, and gossip My treasons to the king’s ears, do:—Calantha Knows it not yet, nor Prophilus, my nearest. 105

Pen. Suppose you were contracted to her, would it not Split even your very soul to see her father Snatch her out of your arms against her will, And force her on the Prince of Argos?

Ith. Trouble not The fountains of mine eyes with thine own story; 110 I sweat in blood for’t.

Pen. We are reconcil’d. Alas, sir, being children, but two branches Of one stock, ’tis not fit we should divide: Have comfort, you may find it.

Ith. Yes, in thee; Only in thee, Penthea mine.

Pen. If sorrows Have not too much dull’d my infected brain, I’ll cheer invention for an active strain.[4179]

Ith. Mad man! why have I wrong’d a maid so excellent!

Enter BASSANES with a poniard; PROPHILUS, GRONEAS, HEMOPHIL, and GRAUSIS.

Bass. I can forbear no longer; more, I will not, Keep off your hands, or fall upon my point.— Patience is tir’d; for, like a slow-pac’d ass, 121 Ye ride my easy nature, and proclaim My sloth to vengeance a reproach and property.[4180]

Ith. The meaning of this rudeness?

Pro. He’s distracted.

Pen. O, my griev’d lord!—

Grau. Sweet lady, come not near him; 125 He holds his perilous weapon in his hand To prick ’a cares not whom nor where,—see, see, see!

Bass. My birth is noble: though the popular blast Of vanity, as giddy as thy youth, Hath rear’d thy name up to bestride a cloud, 130 Or progress in the chariot of the sun, I am no clod of trade, to lackey pride, Nor, like your slave of expectation,[4181] wait The bawdy hinges of your doors, or whistle For mystical conveyance to your bed-sports. 135

Gro. Fine humours! they become him.

Hem. How ’a stares, Struts, puffs, and sweats! Most admirable[4182] lunacy!

Ith. But that I may conceive the spirit of wine Has took possession of your soberer custom, I’d say you were unmannerly.

Pen. Dear brother!— 140

Bass. Unmannerly!—mew, kitling!— smooth Formality Is usher to the rankness of the blood, But Impudence bears up the train. Indeed, sir, Your fiery mettle, or your springal[4183] blaze Of huge renown, is no sufficient royalty 145 To print upon my forehead the scorn, “cuckold.”

Ith. His jealousy has robb’d him of his wits; ’A talks ’a knows not what.

Bass. Yes, and ’a knows To whom ’a talks; to one that franks[4184] his lust In swine-security of bestial incest. 150

Ith. Ha, devil!

Bass. I will haloo’t;[4185] though I blush more To name the filthiness than thou to act it.

Ith. Monster! [Draws his sword.]

Pro. Sir, by our friendship—

Pen. By our bloods— Will you quite both undo us, brother?

Grau. Out on him! These are his megrims, firks,[4186] and melancholies. 155

Hem. Well said, old touch-hole.

Gro. Kick him out of doors.

Pen. With favour, let me speak.—My lord, what slackness In my obedience hath deserv’d this rage? Except humility and silent duty Have drawn on your unquiet, my simplicity 160 Ne’er studied your vexation.

Bass. Light of beauty, Deal not ungently with a desperate wound! No breach of reason dares make war with her Whose looks are sovereignty, whose breath is balm. O, that I could preserve thee in fruition 165 As in devotion!

Pen. Sir, may every evil Lock’d in Pandora’s box shower, in your presence, On my unhappy head, if, since you made me A partner in your bed, I have been faulty In one unseemly thought against your honour!

Ith. Purge not his griefs, Penthea.

Bass. Yes, say on, 171 Excellent creature!—[To ITHOCLES.] Good, be not a hindrance To peace and praise of virtue.—O, my senses Are charm’d with sounds celestial!—On, dear, on: I never gave you one ill word; say, did I? 175 Indeed I did not.

Pen. Nor, by Juno’s forehead, Was I e’er guilty of a wanton error.

Bass. A goddess! let me kneel.

Grau. Alas, kind animal!

Ith. No; but for penance.

Bass. Noble sir, what is it? With gladness I embrace it; yet, pray let not My rashness teach you to be too unmerciful. 181

Ith. When you shall show good proof that manly wisdom, Not oversway’d by passion or opinion, Knows how to lead [your] judgment, then this lady, Your wife, my sister, shall return in safety 185 Home, to be guided by you; but, till first I can out of clear evidence approve it, She shall be my care.

Bass. Rip my bosom up, I’ll stand the execution with a constancy; This torture is unsufferable.

Ith. Well, sir, 190 I dare not trust her to your fury.

Bass. But Penthea says not so.

Pen. She needs no tongue To plead excuse who never purpos’d wrong.

Hem. Virgin of reverence and antiquity, Stay you behind.

Gro. [to GRAUSIS.] The court wants not your diligence. 195 Exeunt all but BASS, and GRAU.

Grau. What will you do, my lord? My lady’s gone; I am deni’d to follow.

Bass. I may see her, Or speak to her once more?

Grau. And feel her too, man; Be of good cheer, she ’s your own flesh and bone.

Bass. Diseases desperate must find cures alike. 200 She swore she has been true.

Grau. True, on my modesty.

Bass. Let him want truth who credits not her vows! Much wrong I did her, but her brother infinite; Rumour will voice me the contempt of manhood, 204 Should I run on thus. Some way I must try To outdo art, and [jealousy decry.][4187] Exeunt.

[SCENE III.][4188]

Flourish. Enter AMYCLAS, NEARCHUS, leading CALANTHA, ARMOSTES, CROTOLON, EUPHRANEA, CHRISTALLA, PHILEMA, and AMELUS.

Amy. Cousin of Argos, what the heavens have pleas’d, In their unchanging counsels to conclude For both our kingdoms’ weal, we must submit to: Nor can we be unthankful to their bounties, Who, when we were even creeping to our grave, 5 Sent us a daughter, in whose birth our hope Continues of succession. As you are In title next, being grandchild to our aunt, So we in heart desire you may sit nearest Calantha’s love; since we have ever vow’d 10 Not to enforce affection by our will, But by her own choice to confirm it gladly.

Near. You speak the nature of a right just father. I come not hither roughly to demand My cousin’s thraldom, but to free mine own. 15 Report of great Calantha’s beauty, virtue, Sweetness, and singular perfections, courted All ears to credit what I find was publish’d By constant truth; from which, if any service Of my desert can purchase fair construction, 20 This lady must command it.

Cal. Princely sir, So well you know how to profess observance,[4189] That you instruct your hearers to become Practitioners in duty; of which number I’ll study to be chief.

Near. Chief, glorious virgin, 25 In my devotions, as in all men’s wonder.

Amy. Excellent cousin, we deny no liberty; Use thine own opportunities.—Armostes, We must consult with the philosophers; The business is of weight.

Arm. Sir, at your pleasure. 30

Amy. You told me, Crotolon, your son’s return’d From Athens: wherefore comes he not to court As we commanded?

Crot. He shall soon attend Your royal will, great sir.

Amy. The marriage Between young Prophilus and Euphranea 35 Tastes of too much delay.

Crot. My lord,—

Amy. Some pleasures At celebration of it would give life To th’ entertainment of the prince our kinsman; Our court wears gravity more than we relish.

Arm. Yet the heavens smile on all your high attempts, 40 Without a cloud.

Crot. So may the gods protect us.

Cal. A prince a subject?

Near. Yes, to beauty’s sceptre; As all hearts kneel, so mine.

Cal. You are too courtly.

Enter ITHOCLES, ORGILUS, and PROPHILUS.

Ith. Your safe return to Sparta is most welcome: I joy to meet you here, and, as occasion 45 Shall grant us privacy, will yield you reasons Why I should covet to deserve the title Of your respected friend; for, without compliment, Believe it, Orgilus, ’tis my ambition.

Org. Your lordship may command me, your poor servant. 50

Ith. [Aside.] So amourously close!—so soon!—my heart!

Pro. What sudden change is next?

Ith. Life to the king! To whom I here present this noble gentleman, New come from Athens: royal sir, vouchsafe Your gracious hand in favour of his merit. 55 [The King gives ORGILUS his hand to kiss.]

Crot. [Aside.] My son preferr’d by Ithocles!

Amy. Our bounties Shall open to thee, Orgilus; for instance,— Hark in thine ear,—if, out of those inventions Which flow in Athens, thou hast there engrost[4190] Some rarity of wit, to grace the nuptials 60 Of thy fair sister, and renown our court In th’ eyes of this young prince, we shall be debtor To thy conceit: think on ’t.

Org. Your highness honours me.

Near. My tongue and heart are twins.

Cal. A noble birth, Becoming such a father.—Worthy Orgilus, 65 You are a guest most wish’d for.

Org. May my duty Still rise in your opinion, sacred princess!

Ith. Euphranea’s brother, sir; a gentleman Well worthy of your knowledge.

Near. We embrace him, Proud of so dear acquaintance.

Amy. All prepare 70 For revels and disport; the joys of Hymen, Like Phoebus in his lustre, put to flight All mists of dulness, crown the hours with gladness: No sounds but music, no discourse but mirth!

Cal. Thine arm, I prithee, Ithocles.—Nay, good 75 My lord, keep on your way; I am provided.

Near. I dare not disobey.

Ith. Most heavenly lady! Exeunt.

[SCENE IV.][4191]

Enter CROTOLON and ORGILUS.

Crot. The king hath spoke his mind.

Org. His will he hath; But were it lawful to hold plea against The power of greatness, not the reason, haply Such undershrubs as subjects sometimes might Borrow of nature justice, to inform 5 That license sovereignty holds without check Over a meek obedience.

Crot. How resolve you Touching your sister’s marriage? Prophilus Is a deserving and a hopeful youth.

Org. I envy not his merit, but applaud it; 10 Could wish him thrift[4192] in all his best desires, And with a willingness inleague our blood With his, for purchase of full growth in friendship. He never touch’d on any wrong that malic’d The honour of our house nor stirr’d our peace: Yet, with your favour, let me not forget 16 Under whose wing he gathers warmth and comfort, Whose creature he is bound, made, and must live so.

Crot. Son, son, I find in thee a harsh condition;[4193] No courtesy can win it; ’tis too rancorous. 20

Org. Good sir, be not severe in your construction; I am no stranger to such easy calms As sit in tender bosoms: lordly Ithocles Hath grac’d my entertainment in abundance, Too humbly hath descended from that height 25 Of arrogance and spleen which wrought the rape On griev’d Penthea’s purity; his scorn Of my untoward fortunes is reclaim’d Unto a courtship, almost to a fawning:— I’ll kiss his foot, since you will have it so. 30

Crot. Since I will have it so! Friend, I will have it so, Without our ruin by your politic plots, Or wolf of hatred snarling in your breast. You have a spirit, sir, have ye? A familiar That posts i’ th’ air for your intelligence? 35 Some such hobgoblin hurried you from Athens, For yet you come unsent for.

Org. If unwelcome, I might have found a grave there.

Crot. Sure, your business Was soon dispatch’d, or your mind alter’d quickly.

Org. ’T was care, sir, of my health cut short my journey; 40 For there a general infection Threatens a desolation.

Crot. And I fear Thou hast brought back a worse infection with thee,— Infection of thy mind; which, as thou say’st, Threatens the desolation of our family. 45

Org. Forbid it, our dear genius! I will rather Be made a sacrifice on Thrasus’ monument, Or kneel to Ithocles, his son, in dust, Than woo a father’s curse. My sister’s marriage With Prophilus is from my heart confirm’d; 50 May I live hated, may I die despis’d, If I omit to further it in all That can concern me!

Crot. I have been too rough. My duty to my king made me so earnest; Excuse it, Orgilus.

Org. Dear sir!—

Crot. Here comes 55 Euphranea with Prophilus and Ithocles.

Enter PROPHILUS, EUPHRANEA, ITHOCLES, GRONEAS, and HEMOPHIL.

Org. Most honoured!—ever famous!

Ith. Your true friend; On earth not any truer.—With smooth eyes Look on this worthy couple; your consent Can only make them one.

Org. They have it.—Sister, 60 Thou pawn’dst to me an oath, of which engagement I never will release thee, if thou aim’st At any other choice than this.

Euph. Dear brother, At him, or none.

Crot. To which my blessing ’s added.

Org. Which, till a greater ceremony perfect,— 65 Euphranea, lend thy hand,—here, take her, Prophilus; Live long a happy man and wife; and further, That these in presence may conclude an omen, Thus for a bridal song I close my wishes:

[Sings.] Comforts lasting, loves increasing, 70 Like soft hours never ceasing; Plenty’s pleasure, peace complying, Without jars, or tongues envying; Hearts by holy union wedded, More than theirs by custom bedded; 75 Fruitful issues; life so graced, Not by age to be defaced, Budding, as the year ensu’th, Every spring another youth: All what thought can add beside 80 Crown this bridegroom and this bride!

Pro. You have seal’d joy close to my soul.—Euphranea, Now I may call thee mine.

Ith. I but exchange One good friend for another.

Org. If these gallants Will please to grace a poor invention 85 By joining with me in some slight device, I’ll venture on a strain my younger days Have studied for delight.

Hem. With thankful willingness I offer my attendance.

Gro. No endeavour Of mine shall fail to show itself.

Ith. We will 90 All join to wait on thy directions, Orgilus.

Org. O, my good lord, your favours flow towards A too unworthy worm;—but as you please; I am what you will shape me.

Ith. A fast friend.

Crot. I thank thee, son, for this acknowledgment; 95 It is a sight of gladness.

Org. But my duty. Exeunt.

[SCENE V.][4194]

Enter CALANTHA, PENTHEA, CHRISTALLA, and PHILEMA.

Cal. Whoe’er would speak with us, deny his entrance; Be careful of our charge.

Chris. We shall, madam.

Cal. Except the king himself, give none admittance; Not any.

Phil. Madam, it shall be our care. Exeunt [CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA].

Cal. Being alone, Penthea, you have granted The opportunity you sought, and might 6 At all times have commanded.

Pen. ’Tis a benefit Which I shall owe your goodness even in death for. My glass of life, sweet princess, hath few minutes Remaining to run down; the sands are spent; For by an inward messenger I feel 11 The summons of departure short and certain.

Cal. You feel too much your melancholy.

Pen. Glories Of human greatness are but pleasing dreams And shadows soon decaying: on the stage 15 Of my mortality my youth hath acted Some scenes of vanity, drawn out at length By varied pleasures, sweet’ned in the mixture, But tragical in issue: beauty, pomp, With every sensuality our giddiness 20 Doth frame an idol, are unconstant friends, When any troubled passion makes assault On the unguarded castle of the mind.

Cal. Contemn not your condition for the proof Of bare opinion only: to what end 25 Reach all these moral texts?

Pen. To place before ye A perfect mirror, wherein you may see How weary I am of a ling’ring life, Who count the beat a misery.

Cal. Indeed You have no little cause; yet none so great 30 As to distrust a remedy.

Pen. That remedy Must be a winding-sheet, a fold of lead, And some untrod-on corner in the earth.— Not to detain your expectation, princess, I have an humble suit.

Cal. Speak; I enjoy[4195] it. 35

Pen. Vouchsafe, then, to be my executrix, And take that trouble on ye to dispose Such legacies as I bequeath, impartially. I have not much to give, the pains are easy; Heaven will reward your piety, and thank it 40 When I am dead; for sure I must not live; I hope I cannot.

Cal. Now, beshrew thy sadness, Thou turn’st me too much woman. [Weeps.]

Pen. [Aside.] Her fair eyes Melt into passion.—Then I have assurance Encouraging my boldness. In this paper 45 My will was character’d; which you, with pardon, Shall now know from mine own mouth.

Cal. Talk on, prithee; It is a pretty earnest.

Pen. I have left me But three poor jewels to bequeath. The first is My youth; for though I am much old in griefs, In years I am a child.

Cal. To whom that [jewel]? 51

Pen. To virgin-wives, such as abuse not wedlock By freedom of desires, but covet chiefly The pledges of chaste beds for ties of love, 54 Rather than ranging of their blood; and next To married maids, such as prefer the number Of honourable issue in their virtues Before the flattery of delights by marriage: May those be ever young!

Cal. A second jewel You mean to part with?

Pen. ’Tis my fame, I trust 60 By scandal yet untouch’d: this I bequeath To Memory, and Time’s old daughter, Truth. If ever my unhappy name find mention When I am fall’n to dust, may it deserve Beseeming charity without dishonour! 65

Cal. How handsomely thou play’st with harmless sport Of mere imagination! Speak the last. I strangely like thy will.

Pen. This jewel, madam, Is dearly precious to me; you must use The best of your discretion to employ 70 This gift as I intend it.

Cal. Do not doubt me.

Pen. ’Tis long agone since first I lost my heart: Long I have liv’d without it, else for certain I should have given that too; but instead Of it, to great Calantha, Sparta’s heir, 75 By service bound and by affection vow’d, I do bequeath, in holiest rites of love, Mine only brother, Ithocles.

Cal. What saidst thou?

Pen. Impute not, heaven-blest lady, to ambition A faith as humbly perfect as the prayers 80 Of a devoted suppliant can endow it. Look on him, princess, with an eye of pity; How like the ghost of what he late appear’d ’A moves before you.

Cal. Shall I answer here, Or lend my ear too grossly?

Pen. First his heart 85 Shall fall in cinders, scorch’d by your disdain, Ere he will dare, poor man, to ope an eye On these divine looks, but with low-bent thoughts Accusing such presumption; as for words, ’A dares not utter any but of service: 90 Yet this lost creature loves ye.—Be a princess In sweetness as in blood; give him his doom, Or raise him up to comfort.

Cal. What new change Appears in my behaviour, that thou dar’st Tempt my displeasure?

Pen. I must leave the world 95 To revel in Elysium, and ’tis just To wish my brother some advantage here; Yet, by my best hopes, Ithocles is ignorant Of this pursuit. But if you please to kill him, Lend him one angry look or one harsh word, 100 And you shall soon conclude how strong a power Your absolute authority holds over His life and end.

Cal. You have forgot, Penthea, How still I have a father.

Pen. But remember I am a sister, though to me this brother 105 Hath been, you know, unkind, O, most unkind!

Cal. Christalla, Philema, where are ye?—Lady, Your check lies in my silence.

Re-enter CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA.

Chris. and Phil. Madam, here.

Cal. I think ye sleep, ye drones: wait on Penthea Unto her lodging.—[Aside.] Ithocles? Wrong’d lady! 110

Pen. My reckonings are made even; death or fate Can now nor strike too soon, nor force too late. Exeunt.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Act IV, Scene I — [4196]

Enter ITHOCLES and ARMOSTES.

Ith. Forbear your inquisition: curiosity Is of too subtle and too searching nature, In fears of love too quick, too slow of credit.— I am not what you doubt me.

Arm. Nephew, be, then, As I would wish;—all is not right.—Good heaven 5 Confirm your resolutions for dependence On worthy ends, which may advance your quiet!

Ith. I did the noble Orgilus much injury, But griev’d Penthea more: I now repent it,— Now, uncle, now; this “now” is now too late. So provident is folly in sad issue, 11 That after-wit, like bankrupts’ debts, stands tallied, Without all possibilities of payment. Sure, he’s an honest, very honest gentleman; A man of single[4197] meaning.

Arm. I believe it: 15 Yet, nephew, ’tis the tongue informs our ears; Our eyes can never pierce into the thoughts, For they are lodg’d too inward:—but I question No truth in Orgilus.—The princess, sir.

Ith. The princess! ha!

Arm. With her the Prince of Argos. 20

Enter NEARCHUS, leading CALANTHA; AMELUS, CHRISTALLA, PHILEMA.

Near. Great fair one, grace my hopes with any instance Of livery,[4198] from the allowance of your favour; This little spark— [Attempts to take a ring from her finger.]

Cal. A toy!

Near. Love feasts on toys, For Cupid is a child;—vouchsafe this bounty: It cannot be deni’d.

Cal. You shall not value, 25 Sweet cousin, at a price, what I count cheap; So cheap, that let him take it who dares stoop for ’t, And give it at next meeting to a mistress: She’ll thank him for ’t, perhaps. Casts the ring to ITHOCLES.

Ame. The ring, sir, is The princess’s; I could have took it up. 30

Ith. Learn manners, prithee.—To the blessed owner, Upon my knees— Kneels and offers it to CALANTHA.

Near. Y’ are saucy.

Cal. This is pretty! I am, belike, “a mistress”—wondrous pretty! Let the man keep his fortune, since he found it; He’s worthy on ’t.—On, cousin!

Ith. [to AMELUS.] Follow, spaniel; 35 I’ll force ye to a fawning else.

Ame. You dare not.

Exeunt. Manent_ ITH. and ARM.

Arm. My lord, you were too forward.

Ith. Look ye, uncle, Some such there are whose liberal contents Swarm without care in every sort of plenty; Who after full repasts can lay them down 40 To sleep; and they sleep, uncle: in which silence Their very dreams present ’em choice of pleasures, Pleasures—observe me, uncle—of rare object; Here heaps of gold, there increments of honours, Now change of garments, then the votes of people; 45 Anon varieties of beauties, courting, In flatteries of the night, exchange of dalliance: Yet these are still but dreams. Give me felicity Of which my senses waking are partakers, A real, visible, material happiness; 50 And then, too, when I stagger in expectance Of the least comfort that can cherish life.—— I saw it, sir, I saw it; for it came From her own hand.

Arm. The princess threw it t’ ye.

Ith. True; and she said—well I remember what— 55 Her cousin prince would beg it.

Arm. Yes, and parted In anger at your taking on ’t.

Ith. Panthea, O, thou hast pleaded with a powerful language! I want a fee to gratify thy merit; But I will do—

Arm. What is ’t you say?

Ith. In anger! 60 In anger let him part; for could his breath, Like whirlwinds, toss such servile slaves as lick The dust his footsteps print into a vapour, It durst not stir a hair of mine, it should not; I’d rend it up by th’ roots first. To be anything 65 Calantha smiles on, is to be a blessing More sacred than a petty prince of Argos Can wish to equal, or in worth or title.

Arm. Contain yourself, my lord: Ixion, aiming To embrace Juno, bosom’d but a cloud, 70 And begat Centaurs; ’t is an useful moral. Ambition hatch’d in clouds of mere opinion Proves but in birth a prodigy.

Ith. I thank ye; Yet, with your licence, I should seem uncharitable To gentler fate, if, relishing the dainties 75 Of a soul’s settled peace, I were so feeble Not to digest it.

Arm. He deserves small trust Who is not privy-counsellor to himself.

Re-enter NEARCHUS and AMELUS, with ORGILUS.

Near. Brave me!

Org. Your excellence mistakes his temper; For Ithocles in fashion of his mind 80 Is beautiful, soft, gentle, the clear mirror Of absolute perfection.

Ame. Was ’t your modesty Term’d any of the prince’s servants “spaniel”? Your nurse, sure, taught you other language.

Ith. Language!

Near. A gallant man-at-arms is here, a doctor 85 In feats of chivalry, blunt and rough-spoken, Vouchsafing not the fustian of civility, Which [less][4199] rash spirits style good manners!

Ith. Manners!

Org. No more, illustrious sir; ’tis matchless Ithocles.

Near. You might have understood who I am.

Ith. Yes. 90 I did; else—but the presence calm’d th’ affront— Y’ are cousin to the princess.

Near. To the king, too; A certain instrument that lent supportance To your colossic greatness—to that king too, You might have added.

Ith. There is more divinity In beauty than in majesty. 96

Arm. O fie, fie!

Near. This odd youth’s pride turns heretic in loyalty. Sirrah! low mushrooms never rival cedars. Exeunt NEARCHUS and AMELUS.

Ith. Come back!—What pitiful dull thing am I So to be tamely scolded at! come back!— 100 Let him come back, and echo once again That scornful sound of mushroom! painted colts— Like heralds’ coats gilt o’er with crowns and sceptres— May bait a muzzled lion.

Arm. Cousin, cousin, Thy tongue is not thy friend.

Org. In point of honour 105 Discretion knows no bounds. Amelus told me ’T was all about a little ring.

Ith. A ring The princess threw away, and I took up. Admit she threw ’t to me, what arm of brass Can snatch it hence? No; could he grind the hoop 110 To powder, ’a might sooner reach my heart Than steal and wear one dust on ’t.—Orgilus, I am extremely wrong’d.

Org. A lady’s favour Is not to be so slighted.

Ith. Slighted!

Arm. Quiet These vain unruly passions, which will render ye 115 Into a madness.

Org. Griefs will have their vent.

Enter TECNICUS [with a scroll].

Arm. Welcome; thou com’st in season, reverend man, To pour the balsam of a suppling[4200] patience Into the festering wound of ill-spent fury.

Org. [Aside.] What makes he here?

Tec. The hurts are yet but[4201] mortal, 120 Which shortly will prove deadly. To the king, Armostes, see in safety thou deliver This seal’d-up counsel; bid him with a constancy Peruse the secrets of the gods.—O Sparta, O Lacedaemon! double-nam’d, but one 125 In fate: when kingdoms reel,—mark well my saw,— Their heads must needs be giddy. Tell the king That henceforth he no more must inquire after My aged head; Apollo wills it so: I am for Delphos.

Arm. Not without some conference 130 With our great master?

Tec. Never more to see him: A greater prince commands me.—Ithocles, _When youth is ripe, and age from time doth part, The lifeless trunk shall wed the broken heart._

Ith. What ’s this, if understood?

Tec. List, Orgilus; 135 Remember what I told thee long before, These tears shall be my witness.

Arm. ’Las, good man!

_Tec. Let craft with courtesy a while confer, Revenge proves its own executioner._

Org. Dark sentences are for Apollo’s priests; I am not Oedipus.

Tec. My hour is come; 141 Cheer up the king; farewell to all.—O Sparta, O Lacedaemon! Exit.

Arm. If prophetic fire Have warm’d this old man’s bosom, we might construe His words to fatal sense.

Ith. Leave to the powers 145 Above us the effects of their decrees; My burthen lies within me: servile fears Prevent no great effects.—Divine Calantha!

Arm. The gods be still propitious! Exeunt ITHOCLES and ARMOSTES.

Org. Something oddly The book-man prated, yet ’a talk’d it weeping; Let craft with courtesy a while confer, 151 Revenge proves its own executioner. Con it again;—for what? It shall not puzzle me; ’T is dotage of a withered brain.—Penthea Forbade me not her presence; I may see her, And gaze my fill. Why see her, then, I may, 156 When, if I faint to speak—I must be silent. Exit.

[SCENE II.][4202]

Enter BASSANES, GRAUSIS, and PHULAS.

Bass. Pray, use your recreations, all the service I will expect is quietness amongst ye; Take liberty at home, abroad, at all times, And in your charities appease the gods, Whom I, with my distractions, have offended. 5

Grau. Fair blessings on thy heart!

Phu. [Aside.] Here ’s a rare change! My lord, to cure the itch, is surely gelded; The cuckold in conceit hath cast his horns.

Bass. Betake ye to your several occasions; And wherein I have heretofore been faulty, 10 Let your constructions mildly pass it over. Henceforth I ’ll study reformation,—more I have not for employment.

Grau. O, sweet man! Thou art the very “Honeycomb of Honesty.”[4203]

Phu. The “Garland of Good-will.”—Old lady, hold up 15 Thy reverend snout, and trot behind me softly, As it becomes a moil[4204] of ancient carriage.

Exeunt GRAUSIS and PHULAS.

Bass. Beasts, only capable of sense, enjoy The benefit of food and ease with thankfulness; Such silly creatures, with a grudging, kick not Against the portion nature hath bestow’d: 21 But men, endow’d with reason and the use Of reason, to distinguish from the chaff Of abject scarcity the quintessence, Soul, and elixir of the earth’s abundance, 25 The treasures of the sea, the air, nay, heaven, Repining at these glories of creation Are verier beasts than beasts; and of those beasts The worst am I: I, who was made a monarch Of what a heart could wish for,—a chaste wife,— 30 Endeavour’d what in me lay to pull down That temple built for adoration only, And level ’t in the dust of causeless scandal. But, to redeem a sacrilege so impious, Humility shall pour, before the deities 35 I have incenst, a largess of more patience Than their displeased altars can require: No tempests of commotion shall disquiet The calms of my composure.

Enter ORGILUS.

Org. I have found thee, Thou patron of more horrors than the bulk 40 Of manhood, hoop’d about with ribs of iron, Can cram within thy breast: Penthea, Bassanes, Curst by thy jealousies,—more, by thy dotage,— Is left a prey to words.

Bass. Exercise Your trials for addition to my penance; 45 I am resolv’d.

Org. Play not with misery Past cure: some angry minister of fate hath Depos’d the empress of her soul, her reason, From its most proper throne; but, what ’s the miracle More new, I, I have seen it, and yet live! 50

Bass. You may delude my senses, not my judgment; ’T is anchor’d into a firm resolution; Dalliance of mirth or wit can ne’er unfix it: Practise[4205] yet further.

Org. May thy death of love to her Damn all thy comforts to a lasting fast 55 From every joy of life! Thou barren rock, By thee we have been split in ken[4206] of harbour.

Enter ITHOCLES, PENTHEA her hair about her ears, [ARMOSTES,] PHILEMA, and CHRISTALLA.

Ith. Sister, look up; your Ithocles, your brother, Speaks t’ ye; why do you weep? Dear, turn not from me.— Here is a killing sight; lo, Bassanes, 60 A lamentable object!

Org. Man, dost see ’t? Sports are more gamesome; am I yet in merriment? Why dost not laugh?

Bass. Divine and best of ladies, Please to forget my outrage; mercy ever Cannot but lodge under a roof so excellent. 65 I have cast off that cruelty of frenzy Which once appear’d imposture,[4207] and then juggled To cheat my sleeps of rest.

Org. Was I in earnest?

Pen. Sure, if we were all Sirens, we should sing pitifully. And ’t were a comely music, when in parts 70 One sung another’s knell. The turtle sighs When he hath lost his mate; and yet some say He must be dead first. ’T is a fine deceit To pass away in a dream; indeed, I ’ve slept With mine eyes open a great while. No falsehood 75 Equals a broken faith; there ’s not a hair Sticks on my head but, like a leaden plummet, It sinks me to the grave. I must creep thither; The journey is not long.

Ith. But, thou, Penthea, Hast many years, I hope, to number yet, 80 Ere thou canst travel that way.

Bass. Let the sun first Be wrapp’d up in an everlasting darkness, Before the light of nature, chiefly form’d For the whole world’s delight, feel an eclipse So universal!

Org. Wisdom, look ye, begins 85 To rave!—Art thou mad too, antiquity?

Pen. Since I was first a wife, I might have been Mother to many pretty prattling babes; They would have smil’d when I smil’d, and for certain I should have cri’d when they cri’d:—truly, brother, 90 My father would have pick’d me out a husband, And then my little ones had been no bastards; But ’t is too late for me to marry now, I am past child-bearing; ’t is not my fault.

Bass. Fall on me, if there be a burning Aetna, 95 And bury me in flames! Sweats hot as sulphur Boil through my pores! Affliction hath in store No torture like to this.

Org. Behold a patience! Lay by thy whining gray dissimulation, Do something worth a chronicle; show justice Upon the author of this mischief; dig out 101 The jealousies that hatch’d this thraldom first With thine own poniard. Every antic rapture Can roar as thine does.

Ith. Orgilus, forbear.

Bass. Disturb him not; it is a talking motion[4208] Provided for my torment. What a fool am I 106 To bandy[4209] passion! Ere I ’ll speak a word, I will look on and burst.

Pen. I lov’d you once. [To ORGILUS.]

Org. Thou didst, wrong’d creature: in despite of malice, For it I love thee ever.

Pen. Spare your hand; 110 Believe me, I ’ll not hurt it.

Org. My[4210] heart too.

[Pen.] Complain not though I wring it hard. I ’ll kiss it; O, ’t is a fine soft palm!—hark, in thine ear; Like whom do I look, prithee?—Nay, no whispering. Goodness! we had been happy; too much happiness 115 Will make folk proud, they say—but that is he— Points at ITHOCLES. And yet he paid for ’t home; alas, his heart Is crept into the cabinet of the princess; We shall have points[4211] and bride-laces. Remember, When we last gather’d roses in the garden, 120 I found my wits; but truly you lost yours. That ’s he, and still ’t is he. [Again pointing at ITHOCLES.]

Ith. Poor soul, how idly Her fancies guide her tongue!

Bass. [Aside.] Keep in, vexation, And break not into clamour.

Org. [Aside.] She has tutor’d me: Some powerful inspiration checks my laziness.— 125 Now let me kiss your hand, griev’d beauty.

Pen. Kiss it.— Alack, alack, his lips be wondrous cold. Dear soul, h’as lost his colour: have ye seen A straying heart? All crannies! every drop Of blood is turned to an amethyst, 130 Which married bachelors hang in their ears.

Org. Peace usher her into Elysium!— If this be madness, madness is an oracle. Exit.

Ith. Christalla, Philema, when slept my sister, Her ravings are so wild?

Chris. Sir, not these ten days. 135

Phil. We watch by her continually; besides, We can not any way pray her to eat.

Bass. O, misery of miseries!

Pen. Take comfort; You may live well, and die a good old man. By yea and nay, an oath not to be broken, 140 If you had join’d our hands once in the temple,— ’T was since my father died, for had he liv’d He would have done ’t,—I must have call’d you father.— O, my wrack’d honour! ruin’d by those tyrants, A cruel brother and a desperate dotage! 145 There is no peace left for a ravish’d wife Widow’d by lawless marriage; to all memory Penthea’s, poor Penthea’s name is strumpeted: But since her blood was season’d by the forfeit Of noble shame with mixtures of pollution, 150 Her blood—’t is just—be henceforth never height’ned With taste of sustenance! Starve; let that fulness Whose plurisy[4212] hath fever’d faith and modesty— Forgive me; O, I faint! [Falls into the arms of her Attendants.]

Arm. Be not so wilful, Sweet niece, to work thine own destruction.

Ith. Nature 155 Will call her daughter monster!—What! not eat? Refuse the only ordinary means Which are ordain’d for life? Be not, my sister, A murderess to thyself.—Hear’st thou this, Bassanes?

Bass. Foh! I am busy; for I have not thoughts 160 Enow to think: all shall be well anon. ’T is tumbling in my head; there is a mastery In art to fatten and keep smooth the outside; Yes, and to comfort up the vital spirits 164 Without the help of food, fumes or perfumes, Perfumes or fumes. Let her alone; I ’ll search out The trick on ’t.

Pen. Lead me gently; heavens reward ye. Griefs are sure friends; they leave without control Nor cure nor comforts for a leprous soul. Exeunt the maids supporting PENTHEA.

Bass. I grant ye; and will put in practice instantly 170 What you shall still admire: ’t is wonderful, ’T is super-singular, not to be match’d; Yet, when I ’ve done ’t, I ’ve done ’t:—ye shall all thank me. Exit.

Arm. The sight is full of terror.

Ith. On my soul Lies such an infinite clog of massy dulness, 175 As that I have not sense enough to feel it.— See, uncle, th’ angry[4213] thing returns again; Shall ’s welcome him with thunder? We are haunted, And must use exorcism to conjure down This spirit of malevolence.

Arm. Mildly, nephew, 180

Enter NEARCHUS and AMELUS.

Near. I come not, sir, to chide your late disorder, Admitting that th’ inurement to a roughness In soldiers of your years and fortunes, chiefly, So lately prosperous, hath not yet shook off The custom of the war in hours of leisure; 185 Nor shall you need excuse, since y’ are to render Account to that fair excellence, the princess, Who in her private gallery expects it From your own mouth alone: I am a messenger But to her pleasure.

Ith. Excellent Nearchus, 190 Be prince still of my services, and conquer Without the combat of dispute; I honour ye.

Near. The king is on a sudden indispos’d, Physicians are call’d for; ’t were fit, Armostes, You should be near him.

Arm. Sir, I kiss your hands. 195 Exeunt ITHOCLES and ARMOSTES.

Near. Amelus, I perceive Calantha’s bosom Is warm’d with other fires than such as can Take strength from any fuel of the love I might address to her. Young Ithocles, Or ever I mistake, is lord ascendant 200 Of her devotions; one, to speak him truly, In every disposition nobly fashioned.

Ame. But can your highness brook to be so rivall’d, Considering the inequality of the persons? 204

Near. I can, Amelus; for affections injur’d By tyranny or rigour of compulsion, Like tempest-threat’ned trees unfirmly rooted, Ne’er spring to timely growth: observe, for instance, Life-spent Penthea and unhappy Orgilus.

Ame. How does your grace determine?

Near. To be jealous 210 In public of what privately I ’ll further; And though they shall not know, yet they shall find it. Exeunt.

[SCENE III.][4214]

Enter HEMOPHIL and GRONEAS leading AMYCLAS, and placing him in a chair; followed by ARMOSTES [with a box], CROTOLON, and PROPHILUS.

Amy. Our daughter is not near?

Arm. She is retir’d, sir, Into her gallery.

Amy. Where ’s the prince our cousin?

Pro. New walk’d into the grove, my lord.

Amy. All leave us Except Armostes, and you, Crotolon; We would be private.

Pro. Health unto your majesty! 5

Exeunt PROPHILUS, HEMOPHIL, and GRONEAS.

Amy. What! Tecnicus is gone?

Arm. He is to Delphos; And to your royal hands presents this box.

Amy. Unseal it, good Armostes; therein lie The secrets of the oracle; out with it: [ARMOSTES takes out the scroll.] Apollo live our patron! Read, Armostes. 10

Arm. [reads.] _The plot in which the vine takes root Begins to dry from head to foot; The stock soon withering, want of sap Doth cause to quail the budding grape; But from the neighbouring elm a dew 15 Shall drop, and feed the plot anew._

Amy. That is the oracle: what exposition Makes the philosopher?

Arm. This brief one only. [Reads.] _The plot is Sparta, the dri’d vine the king; The quailing grape his daughter; but the thing 20 Of most importance, not to be reveal’’d, Is a near prince, the elm: the rest conceal’d._ TECNICUS.

Amy. Enough; although the opening of this riddle Be but itself a riddle, yet we construe How near our labouring age draws to a rest. 25 But must Calantha quail too? that young grape Untimely budded! I could mourn for her; Her tenderness hath yet deserv’d no rigour So to be crost by fate.

Arm. You misapply, sir,— With favour let me speak it,—what Apollo 30 Hath clouded in hid sense. I here conjecture Her marriage with some neighb’ring prince, the dew Of which befriending elm shall ever strengthen Your subjects with a sovereignty of power.

Crot. Besides, most gracious lord, the pith of oracles 35 Is to be then digested when th’ events Expound their truth, not brought as soon to light As utter’’d. Truth is child of Time; and herein I find no scruple, rather cause of comfort, With unity of kingdoms.

Amy. May it prove so, 40 For weal of this dear nation!—Where is Ithocles?— Armostes, Crotolon, when this wither’d vine Of my frail carcass, on the funeral pile Is fir’d into its ashes, let that young man Be hedg’d about still with your cares and loves. 45 Much owe I to his worth, much to his service.—— Let such as wait come in now.

Arm. All attend here!

Enter CALANTHA, ITHOCLES, PROPHILUS, ORGILUS, EUPHRANEA, HEMOPHIL, and GRONEAS.

Cal. Dear sir! king! father!

Ith. O my royal master!

Amy. Cleave not my heart, sweet twins of my life’s solace, With your forejudging fears; there is no physic 50 So cunningly restorative to cherish The fall of age, or call back youth and vigour, As your consents in duty. I will shake off This languishing disease of time, to quicken Fresh pleasures in these drooping hours of sadness. 55 Is fair Euphranea married yet to Prophilus?

Crot. This morning, gracious lord.

Org. This very morning; Which, with your highness’ leave, you may observe too, Our sister looks, methinks, mirthful and sprightly. As if her chaster fancy could already 60 Expound the riddle of her gain in losing A trifle maids know only that they know not. Pish! prithee, blush not; ’tis but honest change Of fashion in the garment, loose for strait, And so the modest maid is made a wife. 65 Shrewd business—is’t not, sister?

Euph. You are pleasant.

Amy. We thank thee, Orgilus; this mirth becomes thee. But wherefore sits the court in such a silence? A wedding without revels is not seemly.

Cal. Your late indisposition, sir, forbade it. 70

Amy. Be it thy charge, Calantha, to set forward The bridal sports, to which I will be present; If not, at least consenting.—Mine own Ithocles, I have done little for thee yet.

Ith. Y’ have built me To the full height I stand in.

Cal. [Aside.] Now or never!— 75 May I propose a suit?

Amy. Demand, and have it.

Cal. Pray, sir, give me this young man, and no further Account him yours than he deserves in all things To be thought worth mine: I will esteem him According to his merit.

Amy. Still thou ’rt my daughter, 80 Still grow’st upon my heart.—[To ITHOCLES.] Give me thine hand;— Calantha, take thine own: in noble actions Thou ’lt find him firm and absolute.—I would not Have parted with thee, Ithocles, to any But to a mistress who is all what I am. 85

Ith. A change, great king, most wisht for, ’cause the same.

Cal. [Aside to Ithocles.] Th’ art mine. Have I now kept my word?

Ith. [Aside to Calantha.] Divinely.

Org. Rich fortunes guard, [the][4215] favour of a princess Rock thee, brave man, in ever-crowned plenty! Y’ are minion of the time; be thankful for it.— 90 [Aside.] Ho! here’s a swing in destiny—apparent! The youth is up on tiptoe, yet may stumble.

Amy. On to your recreations.—Now convey me Unto my bed-chamber: none on his forehead Wear a distempered look.

All. The gods preserve ye! 95

Cal. [Aside to ITHOCLES.] Sweet, be not from my sight.

Ith. [Aside to CALANTHA.] My whole felicity!

Exeunt carrying out the king. ORGILUS stays ITHOCLES.

Org. Shall I be bold, my lord?

Ith. Thou canst not, Orgilus, Call me thine own; for Prophilus must henceforth Be all thy sister’s: friendship, though it cease not 100 In marriage, yet is oft at less command Than when a single freedom can dispose it.

Org. Most right, my most good lord, my most great lord, My gracious princely lord, I might add, royal.

Ith. Royal! A subject royal?

Org. Why not, pray, sir? 105 The sovereignty of kingdoms in their nonage Stoop’d to desert, not birth; there ’s as much merit In clearness of affection as in puddle Of generation: you have conquer’d love Even in the loveliest; if I greatly err not, 110 The son of Venus hath bequeath’d his quiver To Ithocles his manage,[4216] by whose arrows Calantha’s breast is open’d.

Ith. Can ’t be possible?

Org. I was myself a piece of suitor once, And forward in preferment too; so forward 115 That, speaking truth, I may without offence, sir, Presume to whisper that my hopes, and—hark ye— My certainty of marriage stood assured With as firm footing—by your leave—as any’s Now at this very instant—but—

Ith. ’T is granted: 120 And for a league of privacy between us, Read o’er my bosom and partake a secret; The princess is contracted mine.

Org. Still, why not? I now applaud her wisdom: when your kingdom Stands seated in your will, secure and settled, 125 I dare pronounce you will be a just monarch; Greece must admire and tremble.

Ith. Then the sweetness Of so imparadis’d a comfort, Orgilus! It is to banquet with the gods.

Org. The glory Of numerous children, potency of nobles, 130 Bent knees, hearts pav’d to tread on!

Ith. With a friendship So dear, so fast as thine.

Org. I am unfitting For office; but for service—

Ith. We ’ll distinguish Our fortunes merely in the title; partners In all respects else but the bed.

Org. The bed! 135 Forfend it Jove’s own jealousy!—till lastly We slip down in the common earth together, And there our beds are equal; save some monument To show this was the king, and this the subject.— Soft sad music. List, what sad sounds are these,—extremely sad ones? 140

Ith. Sure, from Penthea’s lodgings.

Org. Hark! a voice too.

A SONG [within].

O, no more, no more, too late Sighs are spent; the burning tapers Of a life as chaste as fate, Pure as are unwritten papers, 145 Are burnt out: no heat, no light Now remains; ’t is ever night.

Love is dead; let lovers’ eyes, Lock’d in endless dreams, Th’ extremes of all extremes, 150 Ope no more, for now Love dies, Now Love dies,—implying Love’s martyrs must be ever, ever dying.

Ith. O, my misgiving heart!

Org. A horrid stillness Succeeds this deathful air; let ’s know the reason: 155 Tread softly; there is mystery in mourning. Exeunt.

SCENE [IV].[4217]

Enter CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA, bringing in PENTHEA in a chair, veiled: two other Servants placing two chairs, one on the one side, and the other with an engine[4218] on the other. The Maids sit down at her feet, mourning. The Servants go out: meet them ITHOCLES and ORGILUS.

1 Ser. [Aside to ORGILUS.] ’T is done; that on her right hand.

Org. Good: begone. [Exeunt Servants.]

Ith. Soft peace enrich this room!

Org. How fares the Lady?

Phil. Dead!

Chris. Dead!

Phil. Starv’d!

Chris. Starv’d!

Ith. Me miserable!

Org. Tell us How parted she from life.

Phil. She call’d for music, And begg’d some gentle voice to tune a farewell 5 To life and griefs: Christalla touch’d the lute; I wept the funeral song.

Chris. Which scarce was ended But her last breath seal’d up these hollow sounds, “O, cruel Ithocles and injur’d Orgilus!” So down she drew her veil, so died.

Ith. So died! 10

Org. Up! you are messengers of death; go from us; Here ’s woe enough to court without a prompter: Away: and—hark ye—till you see us next, No syllable that she is dead.—Away, Keep a smooth brow. Exeunt CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA_._ My lord,—

Ith. Mine only sister! 15 Another is not left me.

Org. Take that chair; I ’ll seat me here in this: between us sits The object of our sorrows; some few tears We ’ll part among us: I perhaps can mix One lamentable story to prepare ’em.— 20 There, there; sit there, my lord.

Ith. Yes, as you please.

ITHOCLES sits down, and is catcht in the engine.

What means this treachery?

Org. Caught! you are caught, Young master; ’t is thy throne of coronation, Thou fool of greatness! See, I take this veil off; Survey a beauty wither’d by the flames 25 Of an insulting Phaëton, her brother.

Ith. Thou mean’st to kill me basely?

Org. I foreknew The last act of her life, and train’d thee hither To sacrifice a tyrant to a turtle. You dreamt of kingdoms, did ye? How to bosom 30 The delicacies of a youngling princess; How with this nod to grace that subtle courtier, How with that frown to make this noble tremble, And so forth; whiles Penthea’s groans and tortures, Her agonies, her miseries, afflictions, 35 Ne’er toucht upon your thought: as for my injuries, Alas, they were beneath your royal pity; But yet they liv’d, thou proud man, to confound thee. Behold thy fate; this steel! [Draws a dagger.]

Ith. Strike home! A courage As keen as thy revenge shall give it welcome: But prithee faint not; if the wound close up, 41 Tent[4219] it with double force, and search it deeply. Thou look’st that I should whine and beg compassion, As loth to leave the vainness of my glories. A statelier resolution arms my confidence, 45 To cozen thee of honour; neither could I With equal trial of unequal fortune By hazard of a duel; ’t were a bravery Too mighty for a slave intending murder. On to the execution, and inherit 50 A conflict with thy horrors.

Org. By Apollo, Thou talk’st a goodly language! for requital I will report thee to thy mistress richly. And take this peace along: some few short minutes Determin’d, my resolves shall quickly follow 55 Thy wrathful ghost; then, if we tug for mastery, Penthea’s sacred eyes shall lend new courage. Give me thy hand: be healthful in thy parting From lost mortality! thus, thus I free it. Kills him.

Ith. Yet, yet, I scorn to shrink.

Org. Keep up thy spirit: 60 I will be gentle even in blood; to linger Pain, which I strive to cure, were to be cruel. [Stabs him again.]

Ith. Nimble in vengeance, I forgive thee. Follow Safety, with best success: O, may it prosper!— Penthea, by thy side thy brother bleeds; 65 The earnest of his wrongs to thy forc’d faith. Thoughts of ambition, or delicious banquet With beauty, youth, and love, together perish In my last breath, which on the sacred altar Of a long-look’d-for peace—now—moves—to heaven. Dies. 70

Org. Farewell, fair spring of manhood! Henceforth welcome Best expectation of a noble suff’rance. I ’ll lock the bodies safe, till what must follow Shall be approv’d.—Sweet twins, shine stars for ever!— In vain they build their hopes whose life is shame: 75 No monument lasts but a happy name. Exit.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Act V, Scene I — [4220]

Enter BASSANES, alone.

Bass. Athens—to Athens I have sent, the nursery Of Greece for learning and the fount of knowledge: For here in Sparta there ’s not left amongst us One wise man to direct; we ’re all turn’d madcaps. ’T is said Apollo is the god of herbs, 5 Then certainly he knows the virtue of ’em: To Delphos I have sent too. If there can be A help for nature, we are sure yet.

Enter ORGILUS.

Org. Honour Attend thy counsels ever!

Bass. I beseech thee With all my heart, let me go from thee quietly; I will not aught to do with thee, of all men. 11 The doubles[4221] of a hare,—or, in a morning, Salutes from a splay-footed witch,—to drop Three drops of blood at th’ nose just and no more,— Croaking of ravens, or the screech of owls, 15 Are not so boding mischief as thy crossing My private meditations. Shun me, prithee; And if I cannot love thee heartily, I ’ll love thee as well as I can.

Org. Noble Bassanes, Mistake me not.

Bass. Phew! then we shall be troubled. 20 Thou wert ordain’d my plague—heaven make me thankful, And give me patience too, heaven, I beseech thee.

Org. Accept a league of amity; for henceforth, I vow, by my best genius, in a syllable, Never to speak vexation. I will study 25 Service and friendship, with a zealous sorrow For my past incivility towards ye.

Bass. Hey-day, good words, good words! I must believe ’em, And be a coxcomb for my labour.

Org. Use not So hard a language; your misdoubt is causeless. 30 For instance, if you promise to put on A constancy of patience, such a patience As chronicle or history ne’er mentioned, As follows not example, but shall stand A wonder and a theme for imitation, 35 The first, the index[4222] pointing to a second, I will acquaint ye with an unmatch’d secret, Whose knowledge to your griefs shall get a period.

Bass. Thou canst not, Orgilus; ’t is in the power Of the gods only: yet, for satisfaction, 40 Because I note an earnest in thine utterance, Unforc’d and naturally free, be resolute[4223] The virgin-bays shall not withstand the lightning With a more careless danger than my constancy The full of thy relation. Could it move 45 Distraction in a senseless marble statue, It should find me a rock: I do expect now Some truth of unheard moment.

Org. To your patience You must add privacy, as strong in silence As mysteries lock’d-up in Jove’s own bosom. 50

Bass. A skull hid in the earth a treble age Shall sooner prate.

Org. Lastly, to such direction As the severity of a glorious action Deserves to lead your wisdom and your judgment, You ought to yield obedience.

Bass. With assurance 55 Of will and thankfulness.

Org. With manly courage Please, then, to follow me.

Bass. Where’er, I fear not. Exeunt omnes.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Act V, Scene II — [4224]

Loud music. Enter GRONEAS and HEMOPHIL, leading EUPHRANEA; CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA, leading PROPHILUS; NEARCHUS supporting CALANTHA; CROTOLON and AMELUS. Cease loud music; all make a stand.

Cal. We miss our servant Ithocles and Orgilus; On whom attend they?

Crot. My son, gracious princess, Whisper’d some new device, to which these revels Should be but usher: wherein I conceive Lord Ithocles and himself are actors. 5

Cal. A fair excuse for absence: as for Bassanes, Delights to him are troublesome: Armostes Is with the king?

Crot. He is.

Cal. On to the dance!— Dear cousin, hand you the bride; the bridegroom must be Intrusted to my courtship. Be not jealous, 10 Euphranea; I shall scarcely prove a temptress.— Fall to our dance.

MUSIC.

NEARCHUS dances with EUPHRANEA, PROPHILUS with CALANTHA, CHRISTALLA with HEMOPHIL, PHILEMA with GRONEAS.

They dance the first change: during which ARMOSTES enters.

Arm. (in Calantha’s ear.) The king your father ’s dead.

Cal. To the other change.

Arm. Is ’t possible? They dance again.

Enter BASSANES.

Bass. [whispers CALANTHA.] O, madam! Penthea, poor Penthea ’s starved.

Cal. Beshrew thee!— Lead to the next.

Bass. Amazement dulls my senses. 15

They dance again.

Enter ORGILUS.

Org. [whispers CALANTHA.] Brave Ithocles is murder’d, murder’d cruelly.

Cal. How dull this music sounds! Strike up more sprightly; Our footings are not active like our heart, Which treads the nimbler measure.

Org. I am thunderstruck. The last change. Cease music.

Cal. So! let us breathe awhile.—Hath not this motion, 20 Rais’d fresher colour on your cheeks?

Near. Sweet princess, A perfect purity of blood enamels The beauty of your white.

Cal. We all look cheerfully; And, cousin, ’t is, methinks, a rare presumption In any who prefer our lawful pleasures 25 Before their own sour censure, t’ interrupt The custom of this ceremony bluntly.

Near. None dares, lady.

Cal. Yes, yes; some hollow voice deliver’d to me How that the king was dead.

Arm. The king is dead: 30 That fatal news was mine; for in mine arms He breath’d his last, and with his crown bequeath’d ye Your mother’s wedding ring; which here I tender.

Crot. Most strange!

Cal. Peace crown his ashes! We are queen, then. 35

Near. Long live Calantha! Sparta’s sovereign queen!

All. Long live the queen!

Cal. What whispered Bassanes?

Bass. That my Penthea, miserable soul, Was starv’d to death.

Cal. She ’s happy; she hath finish’d A long and painful progress.—A third murmur Pierc’d mine unwilling ears.

Org. That Ithocles 41 Was murder’d;—rather butcher’d, had not bravery Of an undaunted spirit, conquering terror, Proclaim’d his last act triumph over ruin.

Arm. How! murder’d!

Cal. By whose hand?

Org. By mine; this weapon 45 Was instrument to my revenge: the reasons Are just, and known; quit him of these, and then Never liv’d gentleman of greater merit, Hope or abiliment[4225] to steer a kingdom.

Crot. Fie, Orgilus!

Euph. Fie, brother!

Cal. You have done it? 50

Bass. How it was done let him report, the forfeit Of whose allegiance to our laws doth covet Rigour of justice; but that done it is, Mine eyes have been an evidence of credit Too sure to be convinc’d.[4226] Armostes, rent not Thine arteries with hearing the bare circumstances 56 Of these calamities; thou ’st lost a nephew, A niece, and I a wife: continue man still; Make me the pattern of digesting evils, Who can outlive my mighty ones, not shrinking 60 At such a pressure as would sink a soul Into what ’s most of death, the worst of horrors. But I have seal’d a covenant with sadness, And enter’d into bonds without condition, To stand these tempests calmly; mark me, nobles, 65 I do not shed a tear, not for Penthea! Excellent misery!

Cal. We begin our reign With a first act of justice: thy confession, Unhappy Orgilus, dooms thee a sentence; But yet thy father’s or thy sister’s presence 70 Shall be excus’d.—Give, Crotolon, a blessing To thy lost son;—Euphranea, take a farewell;— And both be gone.

Crot. [to ORGILUS.] Confirm thee, noble sorrow, In worthy resolution!

Euph. Could my tears speak, My griefs were slight.

Org. All goodness dwell amongst ye! 75 Enjoy my sister, Prophilus: my vengeance Aim’d never at thy prejudice.

Cal. Now withdraw. Exeunt CROTOLON, PROPHILUS, and EUPHRANEA. Bloody relater of thy stains in blood, For that thou hast reported him, whose fortunes And life by thee are both at once snatch’d from him, 80 With honourable mention, make thy choice Of what death likes thee best; there ’s all our bounty.— But to excuse delays, let me, dear cousin, Intreat you and these lords see execution Instant before ye part.

Near. Your will commands us. 85

Org. One suit, just queen, my last: vouchsafe your clemency, That by no common hand I be divided From this my humble frailty.

Cal. To their wisdoms Who are to be spectators of thine end I make the reference. Those that are dead 90 Are dead; had they not now died, of necessity They must have paid the debt they ow’d to nature One time or other.—Use dispatch, my lords; We ’ll suddenly prepare our coronation. Exeunt CALANTHA, PHILEMA, and CHRISTALLA.

Arm. ’T is strange these tragedies should never touch on 95 Her female pity.

Bass. She has a masculine spirit; And wherefore should I pule, and, like a girl, Put finger in the eye? Let ’s be all toughness, Without distinction betwixt sex and sex.

Near. Now, Orgilus, thy choice?

Org. To bleed to death. 100

Arm. The executioner?

Org. Myself, no surgeon; I am well skill’d in letting blood. Bind fast This arm, that so the pipes may from their conduits Convey a full stream; here ’s a skilful instrument. [Shows his dagger.] Only I am a beggar to some charity 105 To speed me in this execution By lending th’ other prick to th’ tother arm, When this is bubbling life out.

Bass. I am for ye; It most concerns my art, my care, my credit.— Quick, fillet both his arms.

Org. Gramercy, friendship! 110 Such courtesies are real which flow cheerfully Without an expectation of requital. Reach me a staff in this hand. [They give him a staff.] —If a proneness Or custom in my nature from my cradle Had been inclin’d to fierce and eager bloodshed, 115 A coward guilt, hid in a coward quaking, Would have betray’d fame to ignoble flight And vagabond pursuit of dreadful safety: But look upon my steadiness, and scorn not The sickness of my fortune, which, since Bassanes 120 Was husband to Penthea, had lain bed-rid. We trifle time in words:—thus I show cunning In opening of a vein too full, too lively. [Pierces the vein with his dagger.]

Arm. Desperate courage!

[Near.][4227] Honourable infamy!

Hem. I tremble at the sight.

Gro. Would I were loose! 125

Bass. It sparkles like a lusty wine new broacht; The vessel must be sound from which it issues.— Grasp hard this other stick—I ’ll be as nimble— But prithee, look not pale—have at ye! stretch out Thine arm with vigour and [with][4228] unshook virtue. [Opens the vein.] Good! O, I envy not a rival, fitted 131 To conquer in extremities. This pastime Appears majestical; some high-tun’d poem Hereafter shall deliver to posterity The writer’s glory and his subject’s triumph. 135 How is ’t, man? Droop not yet.

Org. I feel no palsies. On a pair-royal do I wait in death; My sovereign, as his liegeman; on my mistress, As a devoted servant; and on Ithocles, As if no brave, yet no unworthy enemy. 140 Nor did I use an engine to entrap His life, out of a slavish fear to combat Youth, strength, or cunning;[4229] but for that I durst not Engage the goodness of a cause on fortune, By which his name might have outfac’d my vengeance. 145 O, Tecnicus, inspir’d with Phoebus’ fire! I call to mind thy augury, ’t was perfect; Revenge proves its own executioner. When feeble man is bending to his mother, The dust ’a was first fram’d on, thus be totters.

Bass. Life’s fountain is dri’d up.

Org. So falls the standard 151 Of my prerogative in being a creature! A mist hangs o’er mine eyes, the sun’s bright splendour Is clouded in an everlasting shadow; Welcome, thou ice, that sitt’st about my heart No heat can ever thaw thee. Dies.

Near. Speech hath left him. 156

Bass. ’A has shook hands with time; his funeral urn Shall be my charge: remove the bloodless body. The coronation must require attendance; That past, my few days can be but one mourning. Exeunt. 160

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Act V, Scene III — [4230]

An altar covered with white; two lights of virgin wax, during which music of recorders; enter four bearing ITHOCLES on a hearse, or in a chair, in a rich robe, with a crown on his head; place him on one side of the altar. After him enter CALANTHA in a white robe and crown’d; EUPHRANEA, PHILEMA, and CHRISTALLA, in white; NEARCHUS, ARMOSTES, CROTOLON, PROPHILUS, AMELUS, BASSANES, HEMOPHIL, and GRONEAS.

CALANTHA goes and kneels before the altar, the rest stand off, the women kneeling behind, the recorders cease during her devotions. Soft music. CALANTHA and the rest rise, doing obeisance to the altar.

Cal. Our orisons are heard; the gods are merciful.— Now tell me, you whose loyalties pay tribute To us your lawful sovereign, how unskilful Your duties or obedience is to render Subjection to the sceptre of a virgin, 5 Who have been ever fortunate in princes Of masculine and stirring composition. A woman has enough to govern wisely Her own demeanours, passions, and divisions. A nation warlike and inur’d to practice 10 Of policy and labour cannot brook A feminate authority: we therefore Command your counsel, how you may advise us In choosing of a husband whose abilities Can better guide this kingdom.

Near. Royal lady, 15 Your law is in your will.

Arm. We have seen tokens Of constancy too lately to mistrust it.

Crot. Yet, if your highness settle on a choice By your own judgment both allow’d and lik’d of, Sparta may grow in power, and proceed 20 To an increasing height.

Cal. Hold you the same mind?

Bass. Alas, great mistress, reason is so clouded With the thick darkness of my infinite woes, That I forecast nor dangers, hopes, or safety. Give me some corner of the world to wear out 25 The remnant of the minutes I must number, Where I may hear no sounds but sad complaints Of virgins who have lost contracting partners; Of husbands howling that their wives were ravisht By some untimely fate; of friends divided 30 By churlish opposition; or of fathers Weeping upon their children’s slaughtered carcases; Or daughters groaning o’er their fathers’ hearses; And I can dwell there, and with these keep consort As musical as theirs. What can you look for 35 From an old, foolish, peevish, doting man But craziness of age?

Cal. Cousin of Argos,—

Near. Madam?

Cal. Were I presently To choose you for my lord, I ’ll open freely What articles I would propose to treat on 40 Before our marriage.

Near. Name them, virtuous lady.

Cal. I would presume you would retain the royalty Of Sparta in her own bounds; then in Argos Armostes might be viceroy; in Messene Might Crotolon bear sway; and Bassanes— 45

Bass. I, queen! alas, what I?

Cal. Be Sparta’s marshal. The multitudes of high employments could not But set a peace to private griefs. These gentlemen, Groneas and Hemophil, with worthy pensions, Should wait upon your person in your chamber.— 50 I would bestow Christalla on Amelus, She ’ll prove a constant wife; and Philema Should into Vesta’s Temple.

Bass. This is a testament! It sounds not like conditions on a marriage.

Near. All this should be perfom’d.

Cal. Lastly, for Prophilus, 55 He should be, cousin, solemnly invested In all those honours, titles, and preferments Which his dear friend and my neglected husband Too short a time enjoy’d.

Pro. I am unworthy To live in your remembrance.

Euph. Excellent lady! 60

Near. Madam, what means that word, “neglected husband”?

Cal. Forgive me:—now I turn to thee, thou shadow Of my contracted lord! Bear witness all, I put my mother’s wedding-ring upon Has finger; ’t was my father’s last bequest. 65 [Places a ring on the finger of ITHOCLES.] Thus I new-marry him whose wife I am; Death shall not separate us. O, my lords, I but deceiv’d your eyes with antic gesture, When one news straight came huddling on another Of death! and death! and death! still I danced forward; 70 But it struck home, and here, and in an instant. Be such mere women, who with shrieks and outcries Can vow a present end to all their sorrows, Yet live to [court][4231] new pleasures, and outlive them. They are the silent griefs which cut the heart-strings; 75 Let me die smiling.

Near. ’T is a truth too ominous.

Cal. One kiss on these cold lips, my last! [Kisses ITHOCLES.]—Crack, crack!—

Argos now ’s Sparta’s king.—Command the voices Which wait at th’ altar now to sing the song I fitted for my end.

Near. Sirs, the song! 80

A Song. All. Glories, pleasures, pomps, delights, and ease, Can but please Outward senses when the mind Is [or][4232] untroubled or by peace refin’d.

1 [Voice.] Crowns may flourish and decay, 85 Beauties shine, but fade away.

2 [Voice.] Youth may revel, yet it must Lie down in a bed of dust.

3 [Voice.] Earthly honours flow and waste, Time alone doth change and last. 90

All. Sorrows mingled with contents prepare Rest for care; Love only reigns in death; though art Can find no comfort for a broken heart. [CALANTHA dies.]

Arm. Look to the queen!

Bass. Her heart is broke, indeed. 95 O, royal maid, would thou hadst mist this part! Yet ’t was a brave one. I must weep to see Her smile in death.

Arm. Wise Tecnicus! thus said he; _When youth is ripe, and age from time doth part, The Lifeless Trunk shall wed the Broken Heart_ Is here fulfill’d.

Near. I am your king.

All. Long live 101 Nearchus, King of Sparta!

Near. Her last will 103 Shall never he digrest from: wait in order Upon these faithful lovers, as becomes us.— The counsels of the gods are never known 105 Till men can call th’ effects of them their own. [Exeunt.]

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

The Epilogue

Where noble judgments and clear eyes are fix’d To grace endeavour, there sits truth, not mix’d With ignorance; those censures may command Belief which talk not till they understand. Let some say, “This was flat;” some, “Here the scene 5 Fell from its height;” another, that the mean Was “ill observ’d” in such a growing passion As it transcended either state or fashion: Some few may cry, “’T was pretty well,” or so, “But—” and there shrug in silence; yet we know 10 Our writer’s aim was in the whole addrest Well to deserve of all, but please the best: Which granted, by th’ allowance of this strain The BROKEN HEART may be piec’d up again.

THE LADY OF PLEASURE

BY JAMES SHIRLEY

[DRAMATIS PERSONAE]

LORD ——. SIR THOMAS BORNWELL. SIR WILLIAM SCENTLOVE, } MASTER ALEXANDER KICKSHAW, } [Gallants.] MASTER JOHN LITTLEWORTH, } MASTER HAIRCUT, [a Barber.] MASTER FREDERICK, [nephew to Lady Bornwell.] Steward to the Lady Aretina. Steward to the Lady Celestina. Secretary [to Lord ——]. Servants, etc.

ARETINA, Sir Thomas Bornwell’s Lady. CELESTINA, a young widow. ISABELLA, } MARIANA, } [Friends of Celestina.] MADAM DECOY, [a Procuress.] [Gentlewoman.]

SCENE.—The Strand.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Act I

[SCENE I.][4233]

Enter Lady BORNWELL,[4234] and her Steward.

Stew. Be patient, madam; you may have your pleasure.

Lady B.[4234] ’T is that I came to town for. I would not Endure again the country conversation, To be the lady of six shires! The men, So near the primitive making, they retain 5 A sense of nothing but the earth; their brains, And barren heads standing as much in want Of ploughing as their ground. To hear a fellow Make himself merry and his horse, with whistling Sellinger’s Round![4235] To observe with what solemnity 10 They keep their wakes, and throw for pewter candle-sticks! How they become the morris, with whose bells They ring all in to Whitsun-ales; and sweat, Through twenty scarfs and napkins, till the hobby-horse[4236] Tire, and the Maid Marian,[4236] dissolv’d to a jelly, Be kept for spoon meat! 16

Stew. These, with your pardon, are no argument To make the country life appear so hateful; At least to your particular, who enjoy’d A blessing in that calm, would you be pleas’d 20 To think so, and the pleasure of a kingdom; While your own will commanded what should move Delights, your husband’s love and power join’d To give your life more harmony. You liv’d there Secure, and innocent, belov’d of all; 25 Prais’d for your hospitality, and pray’d for: You might be envi’d, but malice knew Not where you dwelt. I would not prophesy, But leave to your own apprehension, What may succeed your change.

Lady B. You do imagine, 30 No doubt, you have talk’d wisely, and confuted London past all defence. Your master should Do well to send you back into the country, With title of superintendent-bailiff.

Stew. How, madam!

Lady B. Even so, sir.

Stew. I am a gentleman, 35 Though now your servant.

Lady B. A country gentleman, By your affection to converse with stubble. His tenants will advance your wit, and plump it so With beef and bag-pudding!

Stew. You may say your pleasure, It becomes not me dispute.

Lady B. Complain to 40 The lord of the soil, your master.

Stew. You ’re a woman Of an ungovern’d passion, and I pity you.

Enter Sir THOMAS BORNWELL.

Born. How now? What ’s the matter?

Stew. Nothing, sir. [Exit.]

Born. Angry, sweetheart?

Lady B. I am angry with myself, To be so miserably restrain’d in things, 45 Wherein it doth concern your love and honour To see me satisfied.

Born. In what, Aretina, Dost thou accuse me? Have I not obey’d All thy desires? Against mine own opinion Quitted the country, and remov’d the hope 50 Of our return, by sale of that fair lordship We liv’d in? Chang’d a calm and retir’d life For this wild town, compos’d of noise and charge?[4237]

Lady B. What charge, more than is necessary for A lady of my birth and education? 55

Born. I am not ignorant how much nobility Flows in your blood; your kinsmen great and powerful I’ th’ state; but with this, lose not you memory Of being my wife. I shall be studious, Madam, to give the dignity of your birth 60 All the best ornaments which become my fortune; But would not flatter it, to ruin both, And be the fable of the town, to teach Other men loss of wit by mine, employ’d To serve your vast expenses.

Lady B. Am I then 65 Brought in the balance? So, sir!

Born. Though you weigh Me in a partial[4238] scale, my heart is honest, And must take liberty to think you have Obey’d no modest counsel, to affect,[4239] 69 Nay, study ways of pride and costly ceremony: Your change of gaudy furniture, and pictures Of this Italian master, and that Dutchman’s; Your mighty looking-glasses, like artillery, Brought home on engines; the superfluous plate, Antique and novel; vanities of tires;[4240] 75 Fourscore-pound suppers for my lord, your kinsman, Banquets for t’ other lady aunt, and cousins, And perfumes that exceed all: train of servants, To stifle us at home, and show abroad More motley than the French or the Venetian, 80 About your coach, whose rude postillion Must pester[4241] every narrow lane, till passengers And tradesmen curse your choking up their stalls; And common cries pursue your ladyship, For hind’ring o’ their market.

Lady B. Have you done, sir? 85

Born. I could accuse the gaiety of your wardrobe, And prodigal embroideries, under which Rich satins, plushes, cloth of silver, dare Not show their own complexions; your jewels, Able to burn out the spectators’ eyes, 90 And show like bonfires on you by the tapers. Something might here be spar’d, with safety of Your birth and honour, since the truest wealth Shines from the soul, and draws up just admirers.— I could urge something more.

Lady B. Pray do, I like 95 Your homily of thrift.

Born. I could wish, madam, You would not game so much.

Lady B. A gamester too!

Born. But are not come to that acquaintance yet, Should teach you skill enough to raise your profit. You look not through the subtilty of cards, 100 And mysteries of dice; nor can you save Charge with the box, buy petticoats and pearls, And keep your family by the precious income; Nor do I wish you should: my poorest servant Shall not upbraid my tables, nor his hire, 105 Purchas’d beneath my honour. You make play Not a pastime but a tyranny, and vex Yourself and my estate by it.

Lady B. Good! proceed.

Born. Another game you have, which consumes more Your fame than purse; your revels in the night, 110 Your meetings called the “Ball,” to which repair, As to the Court of Pleasure, all your gallants And ladies, thither bound by a subpoena Of Venus, and small Cupid’s high displeasure; ’T is but the Family of Love[4242] translated 115 Into more costly sin! There was a play on ’t,[4243] And had the poet not been brib’d to a modest Expression of your antic gambols in ’t, Some darks had been discovered, and the deeds too. In time he may repent, and make some blush, To see the second part danc’d on the stage, 121 My thoughts acquit you for dishonouring me By any foul act; but the virtuous know ’T is not enough to clear ourselves, but the Suspicions of our shame.

Lady B. Have you concluded 125 Your lecture?

Born. I ha’ done; and howsoever My language may appear to you, it carries No other than my fair and just intent To your delights, without curb to their modest[4244] And noble freedom.

Lady B. I ’ll not be so tedious 130 In my reply; but, without art or elegance, Assure you, I keep still my first opinion: And though you veil your avaricious meaning With handsome names of modesty and thrift, I find you would intrench and wound the liberty 135 I was born with. Were my desires unprivileg’d By example, while my judgment thought ’em fit, You ought not to oppose; but when the practice And track of every honourable lady Authorise me, I take it great injustice 140 To have my pleasures circumscrib’d, and taught me. A narrow-minded husband is a thief To his own fame, and his preferment too; He shuts his parts and fortunes from the world, While, from the popular vote and knowledge, men 145 Rise to employment in the state.

Born. I have No great ambition to buy preferment at So dear a rate.

Lady B. Nor I to sell my honour, By living poor and sparingly. I was not Bred in that ebb of fortune, and my fate 150 Shall not compel me to it.

Born. I know not, Madam; but you pursue these ways—

Lady B. What ways?

Born. In the strict sense of honesty, I dare Make oath they are innocent.

Lady B. Do not divert, By busy troubling of your brain, those thoughts That should preserve ’em.

Born. How was that?

Lady B. ’T is English. 156

Born. But carries some unkind sense.

Enter MADAM DECOY.

Dec. Good morrow, my sweet madam.

Lady B. Decoy! welcome; This visit is a favour.

Dec. Alas, sweet madam, I cannot stay: I came but to present 160 My service to your ladyship; I could not Pass by your door, but I must take the boldness To tender my respects.

Lady B. You oblige me, madam; But I must not dispense so with your absence.

Dec. Alas, the coach, madam, stays for me at the door. 165

Lady B. Thou sha’t command mine; prithee, sweet Decoy—

Dec. I would wait on you, madam, but I have many Visits to make this morning; I beseech—

Lady B. So you will promise to dine with me.

Dec. I shall Present a guest.

Lady B. Why, then good morrow, madam.

Dec. A happy day shine on your ladyship! Exit. 171

Re-enter Steward.

Lady B. What’s your news, sir?

Stew. Madam, two gentlemen.

Lady B. What gentlemen? Have they no names?

Stew. They are The gentleman with his own head of hair, Whom you commended for his horsemanship 175 In Hyde Park, and becoming so the saddle, The t’ other day.

Lady B. What circumstance is this To know him by?

Stew. His name ’s at my tongue’s end:— He lik’d the fashion of your pearl chain, madam; And borrowed it for his jeweller to take 180 A copy by it.

Born. [Aside.] What cheating gallant ’s this?

Stew. That never walks without a lady’s busk,[4245] And plays with fans—Master Alexander Kickshaw,— I thought I should remember him.

Lady B. What ’s the other?

Stew. What an unlucky memory I have! 185 The gallant that still danceth in the street, And wears a gross of ribbon in his hat; That carries oringado[4246] in his pocket, And sugar-plums, to sweeten his discourse; That studies compliment, defies all wit 190 In black, and censures plays that are not bawdy— Master John Littleworth.

Lady B. They are welcome; but Pray entertain them a small time, lest I Be unprovided.

Born. Did they ask for me?

Stew. No, sir.

Born. It matters not, they must be welcome.

Lady B. Fie! how ’s this hair disordered? Here ’s a curl 196 Straddles most impiously. I must to my closet. Exit.

Born. Wait on ’em; my lady will return again. [Exit Steward.] I have to such a height fulfill’d[4247] her humour, All application ’s[4248] dangerous: these gallants 200 Must be receiv’d, or she will fall into A tempest, and the house be shook with names Of all her kindred. ’T is a servitude I may in time shake off.

Enter ALEXANDER [KICKSHAW] and LITTLEWORTH.

Kick. and Little. Save you, Sir Thomas!

Born. Save you, gentlemen!

Kick. I kiss your hand. 205

Born. What[4249] day is it abroad?

Little. The morning rises from your lady’s eye: If she look clear, we take the happy omen Of a fair day.

Born. She ’ll instantly appear, To the discredit of your compliment; 210 But you express your wit thus.

Kick. And you modesty, Not to affect[4250] the praises of your own.

Born. Leaving this subject, what game ’s now on foot? What exercise carries the general vote O’ the town? Nothing moves without your knowledge. 215

Kick. The cocking now has all the noise; I ’ll have A hundred pieces of one battle.—Oh, These birds of Mars!

Little. Venus is Mars his bird too.

Kick. Why, and the pretty doves are Venus’s, To show that kisses draw the chariot. 220

Little. I am for that skirmish.

Born. When shall we have More booths and bagpipes upon Banstead downs? No mighty race is expected?—But my lady Returns!

Re-enter LADY BORNWELL.

Lady B. Fair morning to you, gentlemen! You went not late to bed by your early visit. 225 You do me honour.

Kick. It becomes our service.

Lady B. What news abroad? You hold precious intelligence.

Little. All tongues are so much busy with your praise, They have not time to frame other discourse. Will ’t please you, madam, taste a sugar-plum?

Born. What does the goldsmith think the pearl is worth 231 You borrowed of my lady?

Kick. ’T is a rich one.

Born. She has many other toys, whose fashion you Will like extremely: you have no intention To buy any of her jewels?

Kick. Understand me— 235

Born. You had rather sell, perhaps. But, leaving this, I hope you ’ll dine with us.

Kick. I came a’ purpose.

Lady B. And where were you last night?

Kick. I, madam? Where I slept not; it had been sin, where so much Delight and beauty was to keep me waking. 240 There is a lady, madam, will be worth Your free society; my conversation Ne’er knew so elegant and brave a soul, With most incomparable flesh and blood; So spirited! so courtly! speaks the languages, 245 Sings, dances, plays o’ th’ lute to admiration! Is fair, and paints not; games too, keeps a table, And talks most witty satire; has a wit Of a clean Mercury—

Little. Is she married?

Kick. No.

Lady B. A virgin?

Kick. Neither.

Little. What! a widow! Something Of this wide commendation might have 251 Excus’d. This such a prodigy!

Kick. Repent, Before I name her: she did never see Yet full sixteen, an age, in the opinion Of wise men, not contemptible. She has 255 Mourn’d out her year, too, for the honest knight That had compassion of her youth, and died So timely. Such a widow is not common; And now she shines more fresh and tempting Than any natural virgin.

Lady B. What ’s her name? 260

Kick. She was christened Celestina; by her husband, The Lady Bellamour: this ring was hers.

Born. You borrowed it to copy out the posy.

Kick. Are they not pretty rubies? ’t was a grace She was pleas’d to show me, that I might have one 265 Made of the self-same fashion; for I love All pretty forms.

Lady B. And is she glorious?

Kick. She is full of jewels, madam; but I am Most taken with the bravery of her mind, Although her garments have all grace and ornament. 270

Lady B. You have been high in praises.

Kick. I come short; No flattery can reach her.

Born. [Aside.] Now my lady Is troubled, as she fear’d to be eclips’d: This news will cost me somewhat.

Lady B. You deserve Her favour, for this noble character. 275

Kick. And I possess it, by my stars benevolence.

Lady B. You must bring us acquainted.

Born. I pray do, sir; I long to see her too.—Madam, I have Thought upon ’t, and corrected my opinion. Pursue what ways of pleasure your desires 280 Incline you to, not only with my state, But with my person; I will follow you. I see the folly of my thrift, and will Repent in sack and prodigality, To your own heart’s content.

Lady B. But do not mock. 285

Born. Take me to your embraces, gentlemen, And tutor me.

Little. And will you kiss the ladies?

Born. And sing and dance. I long to see this beauty; I would fain lose a hundred pounds at dice now. Thou sha’t have another gown and petticoat 290 To-morrow. Will you sell my running-horses? We have no Greek wine in the house, I think; Pray send one of our footmen to the merchant, And throw the hogshead of March-beer into 294 The kennel,[4251] to make room for sack and claret. What think you to be drunk yet before dinner? We will have constant music, and maintain Them and their fiddles in fantastic liveries: I ’ll tune my voice to catches. I must have My dining-room enlarg’d, to invite ambassadors. 300 We ’ll feast the parish in the fields, and teach The military men new discipline, Who shall charge all their great artillery With oranges and lemons, boy, to play All dinner upon our capons.

Kick. He ’s exalted! 305

Born. I will do anything to please my lady, Let that suffice; and kiss o’ th’ same condition. I am converted; do not you dispute, But patiently allow the miracle.

Lady B. I am glad to hear you, sir, in so good tune. 310

Enter Servant.

Serv. Madam, the painter.

Lady B. I am to sit this morning.

Born. Do, while I give new directions to my steward.

Kick. With your favour, we’ll wait on you: sitting’s but A melancholy exercise without Some company to discourse.

Lady B. It does conclude 315 A lady’s morning work. We rise, make fine, Sit for our picture, and ’t is time to dine.

Little. Praying’s forgot.

Kick. ’T is out of fashion. Exeunt.

[SCENE II.][4252]

Enter CELESTINA and her Steward.

Cel. Fie! what an air this room has!

Stew. ’T is perfum’d.

Cel. With some cheap stuff. Is it your wisdom’s thrift To infect my nostrils thus? Or is’t to favour The gout in your worship’s hand, you are afraid To exercise your pen in your account book? 5 Or do you doubt my credit to discharge Your bills?

Stew. Madam, I hope you have not found My duty, with the guilt of sloth or jealousy, Unapt to your command.

Cel. You can extenuate Your faults with language, sir; but I expect 10 To be obey’d. What hangings have we here!

Stew. They are arras, madam.

Cel. Impudence! I know’t. I will have fresher, and more rich; not wrought With faces that may scandalize a Christian, 14 With Jewish stories stuft with corn and camels. You had best wrap all my chambers in wild Irish, And make a nursery of monsters here, To fright the ladies come to visit me.

Stew. Madam, I hope—

Cel. I say I will have other, Good Master Steward, of a finer loom; 20 Some silk and silver, if your worship please To let me be at so much cost. I’ll have Stories to fit the seasons of the year, And change as often as I please.

Stew. You shall, madam.

Cel. I am bound to your consent, forsooth! And is 25 My coach brought home?

Stew. This morning I expect it.

Cel. The inside, as I gave direction, Of crimson plush?

Stew. Of crimson camel plush.

Cel. Ten thousand moths consume ’t! Shall I ride through The streets in penance, wrapt up round in hair cloth? 30 Sell’t to an alderman, ’t will serve his wife To go a feasting to their country-house; Or fetch a merchant’s nurse-child, and come home Laden with fruit and cheese-cakes. I despise it!

Stew. The nails adorn it, madam, set in method, 35 And pretty forms.

Cel. But single gilt, I warrant.

Stew. No, madam.

Cel. Another solecism! Oh fie! This fellow will bring me to a consumption With fretting at his ignorance. Some lady Had rather never pray than go to church in’t. 40 The nails not double gilt! To market wo’t?[4253] ’T will hackney out to Mile-end, or convey Your city tumblers[4254] to be drunk with cream And prunes at Islington.[4255]

Stew. Good madam, hear me.

Cel. I’ll rather be beholding to my aunt, 45 The countess, for her mourning coach, than be Disparag’d so. Shall any juggling tradesman Be at charge to shoe his running-horse with gold, And shall my coach nails be but single gilt! How dare these knaves abuse me so?

Stew. Vouchsafe 50 To hear me speak.

Cel. Is my sedan yet finish’d, And liveries for my men-mules,[4256] according As I gave charge?

Stew. Yes, madam, it is finish’d, But without tilting-plumes at the four corners; The scarlet’s pure, but not embroidered. 55

Cel. What mischief were it to your conscience Were my coach lin’d with tissue, and my harness Cover’d with needle-work? if my sedan Had all the story of the prodigal Embroidered with pearl?

Stew. Alas, good madam, 60 I know ’t is your own cost; I am but your steward, And would discharge my duty the best way, You have been pleas’d to hear me; ’t is not for My profit that I manage your estate And save expense, but for your honour, madam.

Cel. How, sir! my honour?

Stew. Though you hear it not, 66 Men’s tongues are liberal in your character, Since you began to live thus high. I know Your fame is precious to you.

Cel. I were best Make you my governor. Audacious varlet! 70 How dare you interpose your doting counsel? Mind your affairs with more obedience, Or I shall ease you of an office, sir. Must I be limited to please your honour, Or, for the vulgar breath, confine my pleasures? I will pursue ’em in what shapes I fancy, 76 Here, and abroad; my entertainments shall Be oft’ner, and more rich. Who shall control me? I live i’ th’ Strand, whither few ladies come To live, and purchase more than fame. I will Be hospitable then, and spare no cost 81 That may engage all generous report To trumpet forth my bounty and my bravery,[4257] Till the court envy, and remove. I’ll have My house the academy of wits, who shall 85 Exalt their genius with rich sack and sturgeon, Write panegyrics of my feasts, and praise The method of my witty superfluities. The horses shall be taught, with frequent waiting Upon my gates, to stop in their career 90 Toward Charing-cross, spite of the coachman’s fury; And not a tilter but shall strike[4258] his plume, When he sails by my window: my balcony Shall be the courtier’s idol, and more gaz’d at Than all the pageantry at Temple Bar, 95 By country clients.

Stew. Sure my lady’s mad.

Cel. Take that for your ill manners. [Strikes him.]

Stew. Thank you, madam.— I would there were less quicksilver in your fingers. Exit.

Cel. There ’s more than simple honesty in a servant Requir’d to his full duty; none should dare 100 But with a look, much less a saucy language, Check at their mistress’ pleasure. I’m resolv’d To pay for some delight, my estate will bear it; I’ll rein it shorter when I please.

Re-enter Steward.

Stew. A gentleman Desires to speak with your ladyship.

Cel. His name? 105

Stew. He says you know him not; he seems to be Of quality.

Cel. Admit him. [Exit Steward.] Enter HAIRCUT. Sir, with me?

Hair. Madam, I know not how you may receive This boldness from me; but my fair intents Known, will incline you to be charitable. 110

Cel. No doubt, sir.

Hair. He must live obscurely, madam, That hath not heard what virtues you possess; And I, a poor admirer of your fame, Am come to kiss your hand.

Cel. That all your business?

Hair. Though it were worth much travel, I have more 115 In my ambition.

Cel. Speak it freely, sir.

Hair. You are a widow.

Cel. So!

Hair. And I a bachelor.

Cel. You come a wooing, sir, and would perhaps Show me a way to reconcile the two?

Hair. And bless my stars for such a happiness. 120

Cel. I like you, sir, the better, that you do not Wander about, but shoot home to the meaning; It is a confidence will make a man Know sooner what to trust to: but I never Saw you before, and I believe you come not 125 With hope to find me desperate upon marriage. If maids, out of their ignorance of what Men are, refuse these offers, widows may, Out of their knowledge, be allow’d some coyness: And yet I know not how much happiness 130 A peremptory answer may deprive me of;— You may be some young lord, and though I see not Your footmen and your groom, they may not be Far off, in conference with your horse. Please you To instruct me with your title, against which I would not willingly offend.

Hair. I am 136 A gentleman; my name is Haircut, madam.

Cel. Sweet Master Haircut, are you a courtier?

Hair. Yes.

Cel. I did think so, by your confidence. Not to detain you, sir, with circumstance, 140 I was not so unhappy in my husband, But that ’t is possible I may be a wife Again; but I must tell you, he that wins My affection, shall deserve me.

Hair. I will hope, If you can love, I shall not present, madam, 145 An object to displease you in my person: And when time, and your patience, shall possess you With further knowledge of me, and the truth Of my devotion, you will not repent The offer of my service.

Cel. You say well. 150 How long do you imagine you can love, sir? Is it a quotidian, or will it hold But every other day?

Hair. You are pleasant,[4259] madam.

Cel. Does it take you with a burning at the first, Or with a cold fit? for you gentlemen 155 Have both your summer and your winter service.

Hair. I am ignorant what you mean; but I shall never Be cold in my affection to such beauty.

Cel. And ’t will be somewhat long ere I be warm in’t.

Hair. If you vouchsafe me so much honour, madam, 160 That I may wait on you sometimes, I sha’ not Despair to see a change.

Cel. But now I know Your mind, you shall not need to tell it when You come again; I shall remember it.

Hair. You make me fortunate.

Re-enter Steward.

Stew. Madam, your kinswomen, 165 The lady Novice, and her sister, are New lighted from their coach.

Cel. I did expect ’em, They partly are my pupils. I ’ll attend ’em. [Exit Steward.]

Hair. Madam, I have been too great a trespasser Upon your patience; I will take my leave. 170 You have affairs, and I have some employment Calls me to court; I shall present again A servant to you. Exit.

Cel. Sir, you may present, But not give fire, I hope.—Now to the ladies. This recreation ’s past, the next must be 175 To read to them some court philosophy. Exit.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us