Part 3 out of 5
Deriv'd immediate from your Royal brother,
Whose least word in you may command the Kingdom.
More than my word _Spaconia_, you shall carry,
For fear it fail you.
Dare you trust a Token?
Madam I fear I am grown too bold a begger.
You are a pretty one, and trust me Lady
It joyes me, I shall do a good to you,
Though to my self I never shall be happy:
Here, take this Ring, and from me as a Token
Deliver it; I think they will not stay you:
So all your own desires go with you Lady.
And sweet peace to your Grace.
Pray Heaven I find it.
_Enter_ Tigranes, _in prison_.
Fool that I am, I have undone my self,
And with my own hand turn'd my fortune round,
That was a fair one: I have childishly
Plaid with my hope so long, till I have broke it,
And now too late I mourn for't; O _Spaconia_!
Thou hast found an even way to thy revenge now,
Why didst thou follow me like a faint shadow,
To wither my desires? But wretched fool,
Why did I plant thee 'twixt the Sun and me,
To make me freeze thus? Why did I prefer her
To the fair Princess? O thou fool, thou fool,
Thou family of fools, live like a slave still,
And in thee bear thine own hell and thy torment,
Thou hast deserv'd: Couldst thou find no Lady
But she that has thy hopes to put her to,
And hazard all thy peace? None to abuse,
But she that lov'd thee ever? poor _Spaconia_,
And so much lov'd thee, that in honesty
And honour thou art bound to meet her vertues:
She that forgot the greatness of her grief
And miseries, that must follow such mad passions,
Endless and wild as women; she that for thee
And with thee left her liberty, her name,
And Country, you have paid me equal, Heavens,
And sent my own rod to correct me with;
A woman: for inconstancy I'le suffer,
Lay it on justice, till my soul melt in me
For my unmanly, beastly, sudden doting
Upon a new face: after all my oaths
Many and strange ones,
I feel my old fire flame again and burn
So strong and violent, that should I see her
Again, the grief and that would kill me.
_Enter_ Bacurius _And_ Spaconia.
Lady, your token I acknowledge, you may pass;
There is the King.
I thank your Lordship for it.
She comes, she comes, shame hide me ever from her,
Would I were buried, or so far remov'd
Light might not find me out, I dare not see her.
Nay never hide your self; or were you hid
Where earth hides all her riches, near her Center;
My wrongs without more day would light me to you:
I must speak e're I die; were all your greatness
Doubled upon you, y'are a perjur'd man,
And only mighty in your wickedness
Of wronging women. Thou art false, false Prince;
I live to see it, poor _Spaconia_ lives
To tell thee thou art false; and then no more;
She lives to tell thee thou art more unconstant,
Than all ill women ever were together.
Thy faith is firm as raging over-flowes,
That no bank can command; as lasting
As boyes gay bubbles, blown i'th' Air and broken:
The wind is fixt to thee: and sooner shall
The beaten Mariner with his shrill whistle
Calm the loud murmur of the troubled main,
And strike it smooth again; than thy soul fall
To have peace in love with any: Thou art all
That all good men must hate; and if thy story
Shall tell succeeding ages what thou wert,
O let it spare me in it, lest true lovers
In pity of my wrong, burn thy black Legend,
And with their curses, shake thy sleeping ashes.
The destinies, I hope, have pointed out
Our ends, that thou maist die for love,
Though not for me; for this assure thy self,
The Princess hates thee deadly, and will sooner
Be won to marry with a Bull, and safer
Than such a beast as thou art: I have struck,
I fear, too deep; beshrow me for't; Sir,
This sorrow works me like a cunning friendship,
Into the same piece with it; 'tis asham'd,
Alas, I have been too rugged: Dear my Lord,
I am sorry I have spoken any thing,
Indeed I am, that may add more restraint
To that too much you have: good Sir, be pleas'd
To think it was a fault of love, not malice;
And do as I will do, forgive it Prince.
I do, and can forgive the greatest sins
To me you can repent of; pray believe.
O my _Spaconia_! O thou vertuous woman!
Nay, more, the King Sir.
_Enter_ Arbaces, Bacurius, Mardonius.
Have you been carefull of our noble Prisoner,
That he want nothing fitting for his greatness?
I hope his grace will quit me for my care Sir.
'Tis well, royal _Tigranes_, health.
More than the strictness of this place can give Sir,
I offer back again to great _Arbaces_.
We thank you worthy Prince, and pray excuse us,
We have not seen you since your being here,
I hope your noble usage has been equall
With your own person: your imprisonment,
If it be any, I dare say is easie,
And shall not last t[w]o dayes.
I thank you;
My usage here has been the same it was,
Worthy a royal Conqueror. For my restraint,
It came unkindly, because much unlook'd for;
But I must bear it.
What Lady's that? _Bacurius_?
One of the Princess women, Sir.
I fear'd it, why comes she hither?
To speak with the Prince _Tigranes_.
From whom, _Bacurius_?
From the Princess, Sir.
I knew I had seen her.
His fit begins to take him now again,
'Tis a strange Feaver, and 'twill shake us all anon, I fear,
Would he were well cur'd of this raging folly:
Give me the warrs, where men are mad, and may talk what they
list, and held the bravest fellows; This pelting prating peace is
good for nothing: drinking's a vertue to't.
I see there's truth in no man, nor obedience,
But for his own ends, why did you let her in?
It was your own command to barr none from him,
Besides, the Princess sent her ring Sir, for my warrant.
A token to _Tigranes_, did she not?
Sir tell truth.
I do not use to lie Sir,
'Tis no way I eat or live by, and I think,
This is no token Sir.
This combat has undone him: if he had been well beaten, he had
been temperate; I shall never see him handsome again, till he
have a Horse-mans staffe yok'd thorow his shoulders, or an arm
broken with a bullet.
I am trifled with.
I know it, as I know thee to be false.
Now the clap comes.
You never knew me so, Sir I dare speak it,
And durst a worse man tell me, though my better--
'Tis well said, by my soul.
Sirra, you answer as you had no life.
That I fear Sir to lose nobly.
I say Sir, once again.
You may say what yo[u] please, Sir,
Would I might do so.
I will, Sir, and say openly, this woman carries letters,
By my life I know she carries letters, this woman does it.
Would _Bessus_ were here to take her aside and search her, He
would quickly tell you what she carried Sir.
I have found it out, this woman carries letters.
If this hold, 'twill be an ill world for Bawdes, Chamber-maids
and Post-boyes, I thank heaven I have none I but his letters
patents, things of his own enditing.
Prince, this cunning cannot do't.
Doe, What Sir? I reach you not.
It shall not serve your turn, Prince.
Serve my turn Sir?
I Sir, it shall not serve your turn.
Be plainer, good Sir.
This woman shall carry no more letters back to your
Love _Panthea_, by Heaven she shall not, I say she shall not.
This would make a Saint swear like a souldier.
This beats me more, King, than the blowes you gave me.
Take'em away both, and together let them prisoners be, strictly
and closely kept, or Sirra, your life shall answer it, and let
no body speak with'em hereafter.
Well, I am subject to you,
And must indure these passions:
This is the imprisonment I have look'd for always.
And the dearer place I would choose.
[_Exeunt_ Tigr. Spa. Bac.
Sir, you have done well now.
Dare you reprove it?
You must be crossing me.
I have no letters Sir to anger you,
But a dry sonnet of my Corporals
To an old Suttlers wife, and that I'll burn, Sir.
'Tis like to prove a fine age for the Ignorant.
How darst thou so often forfeit thy life?
Thou know'st 'tis in my power to take it.
Yes, and I know you wo'not, or if you doe, you'll miss it
Who shall tell you of these childish follies
When I am dead? who shall put to his power
To draw those vertues out of a flood of humors,
When they are drown'd, and make'em shine again?
No, cut my head off:
Then you may talk, and be believed, and grow worse,
And have your too self-glorious temper rot
Into a deep sleep, and the Kingdom with you,
Till forraign swords be in your throats, and slaughter
Be every where about you like your flatterers.
Do, kill me.
Prethee be tamer, good _Mardonius,_
Thou know'st I love thee, nay I honour thee,
Believe it good old Souldier, I am thine;
But I am rack'd clean from my self, bear with me,
Woot thou bear with me my _Mardonius?_
There comes a good man, love him too, he's temperate,
You may live to have need of such a vertue,
Rage is not still in fashion.
Welcome good _Gobrias_.
My service and this letter to your Grace.
From the rich Mine of vertue and beauty,
Your mournfull Sister.
She is in prison, _Gobrias,_ is she not?
She is Sir, till your pleasure to enlarge her,
Which on my knees I beg. Oh 'tis not fit,
That all the sweetness of the world in one,
The youth and vertue that would tame wild Tygers,
And wilder people, that have known no manners,
Should live thus cloistred up; for your loves sake,
If there be any in that noble heart,
To her a wretched Lady, and forlorn,
Or for her love to you, which is as much
As nature and obedience ever gave,
Have pity on her beauties.
Pray thee stand up; 'Tis true, she is too fair,
And all these commendations but her own,
Would thou had'st never so commended her,
Or I nere liv'd to have heard it _Gobrias;_
If thou but know'st the wrong her beautie does her,
Thou wouldst in pity of her be a lyar,
Thy ignorance has drawn me wretched man,
Whither my self nor thou canst well tell: O my fate!
I think she loves me, but I fear another
Is deeper in her heart: How thinkst thou _Gobrias_?
I do beseech your Grace believe it not,
For let me perish if it be not false. Good Sir, read her Letter.
This Love, or what a devil it is I know not, begets more mischief
than a Wake. I had rather be well beaten, starv'd, or lowsie,
than live within the Air on't. He that had seen this brave fellow
Charge through a grove of Pikes but t'other day, and look upon
him now, will ne'r believe his eyes again: if he continue thus
but two days more, a Taylor may beat him with one hand tied
Alas, she would be at liberty.
And there be a thousand reasons _Gobrias,_
Thousands that will deny't:
Which if she knew, she would contentedly
Be where she is: and bless her vertues for it,
And me, though she were closer, she would, _Gobrias,_
Good man indeed she would.
Then good Sir, for her satisfaction,
Send for her and with reason make her know
Why she must live thus from you.
I will; go bring her to me.
_Enter_ Bessus, _And two Sword-men, and a Boy_.
Y'are very welcome both; some stools boy,
And reach a Table; Gentlemen o'th' Sword,
Pray sit without more complement; be gone child.
I have been curious in the searching of you,
Because I understand you wise and valiant persons.
We understand our selves Sir.
Nay Gentlemen, and dear friends o'th' Sword,
No complement I pray, but to the cause
I hang upon, which in few, is my honour.
You cannot hang too much Sir, for your honour,
But to your cause.
Be wise, and speak truth, my first doubt is,
My beating by my Prince.
Stay there a little Sir, do you doubt a beating?
Or have you had a beating by your Prince?
Gentlemen o'th' Sword, my Prince has beaten me.
Brother, what think you of this case?
If he has beaten him, the case is clear.
If he have beaten him, I grant the case;
But how? we cannot be too subtil in this business,
I say, but how?
Even with his Royal hand.
Was it a blow of love, or indignation?
'Twas twenty blows of indignation, Gentlemen,
Besides two blows o'th face.
Those blows o'th' face have made a new cause on't,
The rest were but an horrible rudeness.
Two blows o'th' face, and given by a worse man, I must confess,
as the Sword-men say, had turn'd the business: Mark me brother,
by a worse man; but being by his Prince, had they been ten, and
those ten drawn teeth, besides the hazard of his nose for ever;
all this had been but favours: this is my flat opinion, which
I'le die in.
The King may do much Captain, believe it; for had he crackt your
Scull through, like a bottle, or broke a Rib or two with tossing
of you, yet you had lost no honour: This is strange you may
imagine, but this is truth now Captain.
I will be glad to embrace it Gentlemen;
But how far may he strike me?
There is another: a new cause rising from the time and distance,
in which I will deliver my opinion: he may strike, beat, or cause
to be beaten: for these are natural to man: your Prince, I say,
may beat you, so far forth as his dominion reacheth, that's for
the distance; the time, ten miles a day, I take it.
Brother, you err, 'tis fifteen miles a day,
His stage is ten, his beatings are fifteen.
'Tis the longest, but we subjects must--
Be subject to it; you are wise and vertuous.
Obedience ever makes that noble use on't,
To which I dedicate my beaten body;
I must trouble you a little further, Gentlemen o'th' Sword.
No trouble at all to us Sir, if we may
Profit your understanding, we are bound
By vertue of our calling to utter our opinions,
Shortly, and discreetly.
My sorest business is, I have been kick'd.
How far Sir?
Not to flatter my self in it, all over, my sword forc'd but not
lost; for discreetly I rendred it to save that imputation.
It shew'd discretion, the best part of valour.
Brother, this is a pretty cause, pray ponder on't;
Our friend here has been kick'd.
He has so, brother.
Sorely he saies: Now, had he set down here
Upon the meer kick, 't had been Cowardly.
I think it had been Cowardly indeed.
But our friend has redeem'd it in delivering
His sword without compulsion; and that man
That took it of him, I pronounce a weak one,
And his kicks nullities.
He should have kick'd him after the delivering
Which is the confirmation of a Coward.
Brother, I take it, you mistake the question;
For, say that I were kick'd.
I must not say so;
Nor I must not hear it spoke by the tongue of man.
You kick'd, dear brother! you're merry.
But put the case I were kick'd?
Let them put it that are things weary of their lives, and know
not honour; put the case you were kick'd?
I do not say I was kickt.
Nor no silly creature that wears his head without a Case, his
soul in a Skin-coat: You kickt dear brother?
Nay Gentlemen, let us do what we shall do,
Truly and honest[l]y; good Sirs to the question.
Why then I say, suppose your Boy kick't, Captain?
The Boy may be suppos'd is liable.
A foolish forward zeal Sir, in my friend;
But to the Boy, suppose the Boy were kickt.
I do suppose it.
Has your Boy a sword?
Surely no; I pray suppose a sword too.
I do suppose it; you grant your Boy was kick't then.
By no means Captain, let it be supposed still; the word grant,
makes not for us.
I say this must be granted.
This must be granted brother?
I, this must be granted.
Still this must?
I say this must be granted.
I, give me the must again, brother, you palter.
I will not hear you, wasp.
Brother, I say you palter, the must three times together; I wear
as sharp Steel as another man, and my Fox bites as deep, musted,
my dear brother. But to the cause again.
Nay look you Gentlemen.
In a word, I ha' done.
A tall man but intemperate, 'tis great pity;
Once more suppose the Boy kick'd.
And being thorowly kick'd, laughs at the kicker.
So much for us; proceed.
And in this beaten scorn, as I may call it,
Delivers up his weapon; where lies the error?
It lies i'th' beating Sir, I found it four dayes since.
The error, and a sore one as I take it,
Lies in the thing kicking.
I understand that well, 'tis so indeed Sir.
That is according to the man that did it.
There springs a new branch, whose was the foot?
The cause is mighty, but had it been two Lords,
And both had kick'd you, if you laugh, 'tis clear.
I did laugh,
But how will that help me, Gentlemen?
Yes, it shall help you if you laught aloud.
As loud as a kick'd man could laugh, I laught Sir.
My reason now, the valiant man is known
By suffering and contemning; you have
Enough of both, and you are valiant.
If he be sure he has been kick'd enough:
For that brave sufferance you speak of brother,
Consists not in a beating and away,
But in a cudgell'd body, from eighteen
To eight and thirty; in a head rebuk'd
With pots of all size, degrees, stools, and bed-staves,
This showes a valiant man.
Then I am valiant, as valiant as the proudest,
For these are all familiar things to me;
Familiar as my sleep, or want of money,
All my whole body's but one bruise with beating,
I think I have been cudgell'd with all nations,
And almost all Religions.
Embrace him brother, this man is valiant,
I know it by my self, he's valiant.
Captain, thou art a valiant Gentleman,
To bide upon, a very valiant man.
My equall friends o'th'Sword, I must request your hands to this.
'Tis fit it should be.
Boy, get me some wine, and pen and Ink within:
Am I clear, Gentlemen?
Sir, the world has taken notice what we have done,
Make much of your body, for I'll pawn my steel,
Men will be coyer of their legs hereafter.
I must request you goe along and testife to the Lord _Bacurius_,
whose foot has struck me, how you find my cause.
We will, and tell that Lord he must be rul'd,
Or there are those abroad, will rule his Lordship.
_Enter_ Arbaces _at one door, and_ Gob. _and_ Panthea _at
Sir, here's the Princess.
Leave us then alone,
For the main cause of her imprisonment
Must not be heard by any but her self.
You're welcome Sister, and would to heaven
I could so bid you by another name:
If you above love not such sins as these,
Circle my heart with thoughts as cold as snow
To quench these rising flames that harbour here.
Sir, does it please you I should speak?
I, more than all the art of musick can,
Thy speech doth please me, for it ever sounds,
As thou brought'st joyfull unexpected news;
And yet it is not fit thou shouldst be heard.
I pray thee think so.
Be it so, I will.
Am I the first that ever had a wrong
So far from being fit to have redress,
That 'twas unfit to hear it? I will back
To prison, rather than disquiet you,
And wait till it be fit.
No, do not goe;
For I will hear thee with a serious thought:
I have collected all that's man about me
Together strongly, and I am resolv'd
To hear thee largely, but I do beseech thee,
Do not come nearer to me, for there is
Something in that, that will undoe us both.
Alas Sir, am I venome?
Yes, to me;
Though of thy self I think thee to be
In equall degree of heat or cold,
As nature can make: yet as unsound men
Convert the sweetest and the nourishing'st meats
Into diseases; so shall I distemper'd,
Do thee, I pray thee draw no nearer to me.
Sir, this is that I would: I am of late
Shut from the world, and why it should be thus,
Is all I wish to know.
Why credit me _Panthea_,
Credit me that am thy brother,
Thy loving brother, that there is a cause
Sufficient, yet unfit for thee to know,
That might undoe thee everlastingly,
Only to hear, wilt thou but credit this?
By Heaven 'tis true, believe it if thou canst.
Children and fools are ever credulous,
And I am both, I think, for I believe;
If you dissemble, be it on your head;
I'le back unto my prison: yet me-thinks
I might be kept in some place where you are;
For in my self, I find I know not what
To call it, but it is a great desire
To see you often.
Fie, you come in a step, what do you mean?
Dear sister, do not so: Alas _Panthea_,
Where I am would you be? Why that's the cause
You are imprison'd, that you may not be
Where I am.
Then I must indure it Sir, Heaven keep you.
Nay, you shall hear the case in short _Panthea_,
And when thou hear'st it, thou wilt blush for me,
And hang thy head down like a Violet
Full of the mornings dew: There is a way
To gain thy freedome, but 'tis such a one
As puts thee in worse bondage, and I know,
Thou wouldst encounter fire, and make a proof
Whether the gods have care of innocence,
Rather than follow it: Know that I have lost,
The only difference betwixt man and beast,
Nay 'tis gone;
And I am left as far without a bound,
As the wild Ocean, that obeys the winds;
Each sodain passion throwes me where it lists,
And overwhelms all that oppose my will:
I have beheld thee with a lustfull eye;
My heart is set on wickedness to act
Such sins with thee, as I have been afraid
To think of, if thou dar'st consent to this,
Which I beseech thee do not, thou maist gain
Thy liberty, and yield me a content;
If not, thy dwelling must be dark and close,
Where I may never see thee; For heaven knows
That laid this punishment upon my pride,
Thy sight at some time will enforce my madness
To make a start e'ne to thy ravishing;
Now spit upon me, and call all reproaches
Thou canst devise together, and at once
Hurle'em against me: for I am a sickness
As killing as the plague, ready to seize thee.
Far be it from me to revile the King:
But it is true, that I shall rather choose
To search out death, that else would search out me,
And in a grave sleep with my innocence,
Than welcome such a sin: It is my fate,
To these cross accidents I was ordain'd,
And must have patience; and but that my eyes
Have more of woman in 'em than my heart,
I would not weep: Peace enter you again.
Farwell, and good _Panthea_ pray for me,
Thy prayers are pure, that I may find a death
However soon before my passions grow
That they forget what I desire is sin;
For thither they are tending: if that happen,
Then I shall force thee tho' thou wert a Virgin
By vow to Heaven, and shall pull a heap
Of strange yet uninvented sin upon me.
Sir, I will pray for you, yet you shall know
It is a sullen fate that governs us,
For I could wish as heartily as you
I were no sister to you, I should then
Imbrace your lawfull love, sooner than health.
Couldst thou affect me then?
That as it is, I ne're shall sway my heart,
To like another.
Then I curse my birth,
Must this be added to my miseries
That thou art willing too? is there no stop
To our full happiness, but these meer sounds
Brother and Sister?
There is nothing else,
But these alas will separate us more
Than twenty worlds betwixt us.
I have liv'd
To conquer men and now am overthrown
Only by words Brother and Sister: where
Have those words dwelling? I will find 'em out,
And utterly destroy 'em; but they are
Not to be grasp'd: let 'em be men or beasts,
And I will cut 'em from the Earth, or Towns,
And I will raze 'em, and the[n] blow 'em up:
Let 'em be Seas, and I will drink 'em off,
And yet have unquencht fire left in my breast:
Let 'em be any thing but meerly voice.
But 'tis not in the power of any force,
Or policy to conquer them.
_Panthea_, What shall we do?
Shall we stand firmly here, and gaze our eyes out?
Would I could do so,
But I shall weep out mine.
Thou bought'st thy reason at too dear a rate,
For thou hast all thy actions bounded in
With curious rules, when every beast is free:
What is there that acknowledges a kindred
But wretched man? Who ever saw the Bull
Fearfully leave the Heifer that he lik'd
Because they had one Dam?
Sir, I disturb you and my self too;
'Twere better I were gone.
I will not be so foolish as I was,
Stay, we will love just as becomes our births,
No otherwise: Brothers and Sisters may
Walk hand in hand together; so will we,
Come nearer: is there any hurt in this?
I hope not.
Faith there is none at all:
And tell me truly now, is there not one
You love above me?
No by Heaven.
Why yet you sent unto _Tigranes_, Sister.
True, but for another: for the truth--
I'le credit thee, thou canst not lie,
Thou art all truth.
But is there nothing else,
That we may do, but only walk? methinks
Brothers and Sisters lawfully may kiss.
And so they may _Panthea_, so will we,
And kiss again too; we were too scrupulous,
And foolish, but we will be so no more.
If you have any mercy, let me go
To prison, to my death, to any thing:
I feel a sin growing upon my blood,
Worse than all these, hotter than yours.
That is impossible, what shou'd we do?
Flie Sir, for Heavens sake.
So we must away,
Sin grows upon us more by this delay.
[_Exeunt several wayes_.
_Enter_ Mardonius _And_ Lygones.
Sir, the King has seen your Commission, and believes it, and
freely by this warrant gives you power to visit Prince Tigranes,
your Noble Master.
I thank his Grace and kiss his hand.
But is the main of all your business ended in this?
I have another, but a worse, I am asham'd, it is a business.
You serve a worthy person, and a stranger I am sure you are; you
may imploy me if you please without your purse, such Offices
should ever be their own rewards.
I am bound to your Nobleness.
I may have need of you, and then this courtesie,
If it be any, is not ill bestowed;
But may I civilly desire the rest?
I shall not be a hurter if no helper.
Sir you shall know I have lost a foolish Daughter,
And with her all my patience, pilfer'd away
By a mean Captain of your Kings.
Stay there Sir:
If he have reacht the Noble worth of Captain,
He may well claim a worthy Gentlewoman,
Though she were yours, and Noble.
I grant all that too: but this wretched fellow
Reaches no further than the empty name
That serves to feed him; were he valiant,
Or had but in him any noble nature
That might hereafter promise him a good man,
My cares were so much lighter, and my grave
A span yet from me.
I confess such fellows
Be in all Royal Camps, and have and must be,
To make the sin of Coward more detested
In the mean souldier that with such a foil
Sets off much valour. By description
I should now guess him to you, it was _Bessus_,
I dare almost with confidence pronounce it.
'Tis such a scurvie name as _Bessus_, and now I think 'tis he.
Captain do you call him?
Believe me Sir, you have a misery
Too mighty for your age: A pox upon him,
For that must be the end of all his service:
Your Daughter was not mad Sir?
No, would she had been,
The fault had had more credit: I would do something.
I would fain counsel you, but to what I know not, he's so below a
beating, that the Women find him not worthy of their Distaves,
and to hang him were to cast away a Rope; he's such an Airie,
thin unbodyed Coward, that no revenge can catch him: I'le tell
you Sir, and tell you truth; this Rascal fears neither God nor
man, he has been so beaten: sufferance has made him Wainscot: he
has had since he was first a slave, at least three hundred
Daggers set in's head, as little boys do new Knives in hot meat,
there's not a Rib in's body o' my Conscience that has not been
thrice broken with dry beating: and now his sides look like two
Wicker Targets, every way bended; Children will shortly take him
for a Wall, and set their Stone-bows in his forehead, he is of so
base a sense, I cannot in a week imagine what shall be done to
Sure I have committed some great sin
That this fellow should be made my Rod,
I would see him, but I shall have no patience.
'Tis no great matter if you have not: if a Laming of him, or
such a toy may do you pleasure Sir, he has it for you, and I'le
help you to him: 'tis no news to him to have a Leg broken, or
Shoulder out, with being turn'd o'th' stones like a Tansie: draw
not your Sword if you love it; for on my Conscience his head will
break it: we use him i'th' Wars like a Ram to shake a wall
withal. Here comes the very person of him, do as you shall find
your temper, I must leave you: but if you do not break him like a
Bisket, you are much to blame Sir.
_Enter_ Bessus _And the Sword men_.
Is your name _Bessus_?
Men call me Captain Bessus.
Then Ca[p]tain _Bessus_, you are a rank rascall, without more
exordiums, a durty frozen slave; and with the favor of your
friends here I will beat you.
Pray use your pleasure Sir,
You seem to be a Gentleman.
Thus Captain _Bessus_, thus; thus twing your nose, thus kick,
thus tread you.
I do beseech you yield your cause Sir quickly.
Indeed I should have told that first.
I take it so.
Captain, he should indeed, he is mistaken.
Sir, you shall have it quickly, and more beating,
you have stoln away a Lady, Captain coward, and such an
Hold, I beseech you, hold Sir, I never yet stole any living thing
that had a tooth about it.
I know you dare lie.
With none but Summer Whores upon my life Sir, my means and
manners never could attempt above a hedge or hay-cock.
Sirra, that quits not me, where is this Lady? do that you do not
use to do; tell truth, or by my hand, I'le beat your Captains
brains out, wash'em, and put 'em in again, that will I.
There was a Lady Sir, I must confess, once in my charge: the
Prince Tigranes gave her to my guard for her safety, how I us'd
her, she may her self report, she's with the Prince now: I did
but wait upon her like a groom, which she will testife I am sure:
if not, my brains are at your service when you please Sir, and
glad I have 'em for you.
This is most likely, Sir, I ask you pardon, and am sorry I was so
Well I can ask no more, you will think it strange not to have me
beat you at first sight.
Indeed I would, but I know your goodness can forget twenty
beatings, you must forgive me.
Yes there's my hand, go where you will, I shall think you a
valiant fellow for all this.
My da[u]ghter is a Whore, I feel it now too sensible; yet I will
see her, discharge my self from being father to her, and then
back to my Country, and there die, farwell Captain.
Farwell Sir, farwell, commend me to the gentlewoman I pray.
How now Captain? bear up man.
Gentlemen o'th'sword, your hands once more; I have been kickt
agen, but the foolish fellow is penitent, has askt me Mercy, and
my honour's safe.
We knew that, or the foolish fellow had better have kickt his
Confirm, confirm I pray.
There be our hands agen, now let him come and say he was not
sorry, and he sleeps for it.
Alas good ignorant old man, let him go, let him go, these courses
will undo him.
_Enter_ Lygones _And_ Bacurius.
My Lord, your authority is good, and I am glad it is so, for my
consent would never hinder you from seeing your own King, I am a
Minister, but not a governor of this State, yonder is your King,
I'le leave you.
_Enter_ Tigranes _And_ Spaconia.
There he is indeed, and with him my disloyal child.
I do perceive my fault so much, that yet me thinks thou shouldst
not have forgiven me.
Health to your Majesty.
What? good _Lygones_ welcome, what business brought thee hither?
Several businesses. My publick businesses will appear by this, I
have a message to deliver, which if it please you so to
authorize, is an embassage from the Armenian State, unto Arbaces
for your liberty: the offer's there set down, please you to read
There is no alteration happened since I came thence?
None Sir, all is as it was.
And all our friends are well?
All very well.
Though I have done nothing but what was good, I dare not see my
Father, it was fault enough not to acquaint him with that good.
Madam I should have seen you.
O good Sir forgive me.
Forgive you, why? I am no kin to you, am I?
Should it be measur'd by my mean deserts, indeed you are not.
Thou couldest prate unhappily ere thou couldst go, would thou
couldst do as well, and how does your custome hold out here?
Are you in private still, or how?
What do you mean?
Do you take mony? are you come to sell sin yet? perhaps I can
help you to liberal Clients: or has not the King cast you off
yet? O thou vile creature, whose best commendation is, that thou
art a young whore, I would thy Mother had liv'd to see this, or
rather that I had died ere I had seen it; why didst not make me
acquainted when thou wert first resolv'd to be a whore, I would
have seen thy hot lust satisfied more privately: I would have
kept a dancer and a whole consort of musicians in my own house
only to fiddle thee.
Sir, I was never whore.
If thou couldst not say so much for thy self, thou shouldst be
_Lygones_, I have read it, and I like it, you shall deliver it.
Well Sir, I will: but I have private business with you.
Speak, what is't?
_Lyg_. How has my age deserv'd so ill of you, that you can
pick no strumpets i'th' land, but out of my breed?
Strumpets, good _Lygones_?
Yes, and I wish to have you know, I scorn to get a whore for any
prince alive, and yet scorn will not help methinks: my Daughter
might have been spar'd, there were enow besides.
May I not prosper but she's innocent as morning light for me, and
I dare swear for all the world.
Why is she with you then? can she wait on you better than your
man, has she a gift in plucking off your stockings, can she make
Cawdles well or cut your cornes? Why do you keep her with you?
For a Queen I know you do contemn her, so should I, and every
subject else think much at it.
Let 'em think much, but 'tis more firm than earth: thou see'st
thy Queen there.
Then have I made a fair hand, I call'd her Whore. If I shall
speak now as her Father, I cannot chuse but greatly rejoyce that
she shall be a Queen: but if I shall speak to you as a
States-man, she were more fit to be your whore.
Get you about your business to _Arbaces_, now you talk idlely.
Yes Sir, I will go, and shall she be a Queen? she had more wit
than her old Father, when she ran away: shall she be Queen? now
by my troth 'tis fine, I'le dance out of all measure at her
wedding: shall I not Sir?
Yes marry shalt thou.
I'le make these withered kexes bear my body two hours together
Nay go, my business requires hast.
Good Heaven preserve you, you are an excellent King.
Farwell good Father.
Farwell sweet vertuous Daughter, I never was so joyfull in all my
life, that I remember: shall she be a Queen? Now I perceive a man
may weep for joy, I had thought they had lyed that said so.
Come my dear love.
But you may see another may alter that again.
Urge it no more, I have made up a new strong constancy, not to be
shook with eyes: I know I have the passions of a man, but if I
meet with any subject that should hold my eyes more firmly than
is fit, I'le think of thee, and run away from it: let that
_Enter_ Bacurius _And his Servant_.
Three Gentlemen without to speak with me?
Let them come in.
_Enter_ Bessus _with the two Sword-men_.
They are entred Sir already.
Now fellows your business? are these the Gentlemen?
My Lord, I have made bold to bring these Gentlemen, my friends
o'th' Sword along with me.
I am afraid you'l fight then.
My good Lord, I will not, your Lordship is much mistaken, fear
Sir, I am sorry for't.
I ask no more in honour, Gentlemen you hear my Lord is sorry.
Not that I have beaten you, but beaten one that will be beaten:
one whose dull body will require a laming, as Surfeits do the
diet, spring and fall; now to your Sword-men; what come they for,
good Captain Stock-fish?
It seems your Lordship has forgot my name.
No, nor your nature neither, though they are things fitter I must
confess for any thing, than my remembrance, or any honest mans:
what shall these Billets do; be pil'd up in my wood-yard?
Your Lordship holds your mirth still, Heaven continue it: but for
these Gentlemen, they come--
To swear you are a Coward, spare your book, I do believe it.
Your Lordship still draws wide, they come to vouch under their
valiant hands I am no Coward.
That would be a show indeed worth seeing: sirra be wise, and take
Mony for this motion, travel with it, and where the name of
_Bessus_ has been known or a good Coward stirring, 'twill yield
more than a tilting. This will prove more beneficial to you, if
you be thrifty, than your Captainship, and more natural: men of
most valiant hands is this true?
It is so, most renowned.
'Tis somewhat strange.
Lord, it is strange, yet true; we have examined from your
Lordships foot there, to this mans head, the nature of the
beatings; and we do find his honour is come off clean and
sufficient: this as our swords shall help us.
You are much bound to your Bil-bow-men, I am glad you are
straight again Captain; 'twere good you would think on some way
to gratifie them, they have undergone a labour for you, _Bessus_
would have puzl'd _hercules_ with all his valour.
Your Lordship must understand we are no men o'th' Law, that take
pay for our opinions: it is sufficient we have clear'd our
Yet there is something due, which I as toucht in Conscience will
discharge Captain; I'le pay this Rent for you.
Spare your self my good Lord; my brave friends aim at nothing but
That's but a cold discharge Sir for the pains.
O Lord, my good Lord.
Be not so modest, I will give you something.
They shall dine with your Lordship, that's sufficient.
Something in hand the while, you Rogues, you Apple-squires: do
you come hither with your botled valour, your windy froth, to
limit out my beatings?
I do beseech your Lordship.
O good Lord.
S'foot-what a heavy of beaten slaves are here! get me a Cudgel
sirra, and a tough one.
More of your foot, I do beseech your Lordship.
You shall, you shall dog, and your fellow-beagle.
O' this side good my Lord.
Off with your swords, for if you hurt my foot, I'le have you
flead you Rascals.
Mine's off my Lord.
I beseech your Lordship stay a little, my strap's tied to my Cod
piece-point: now when you please.
Captain these are your valiant friends, you long for a little
I am very well, I humbly thank your Lordship.
What's that in your pocket, hurts my Toe you Mungril? Thy
Buttocks cannot be so hard, out with it quickly.
Here 'tis Sir, a small piece of Artillery, that a Gentleman a
dear friend of your Lordships sent me with, to get it mended Sir,
for if you mark, the nose is somewhat loose.
A friend of mine you Rascal? I was never wearier of doing any
thing, than kicking these two Foot-balls.
Here is a good Cudgel Sir.
It comes too late I'me weary, pray thee do thou beat them.
My Lord, this is foul play i'faith, to put a fresh man upon us,
men are but men Sir.
That jest shall save your bones; Captain, Rally up your rotten
Regiment and be gone: I had rather thrash than be bound to kick
these Rascals, till they cry'd ho; _Bessus_ you may put your hand
to them now, and then you are quit. Farewel, as you like this,
pray visit me again, 'twill keep me in good health.
H'as a devilish hard foot, I never felt the like.
Nor I, and yet I am sure I have felt a hundred.
If he kick thus i'th' Dog-daies, he will be dry foundred: what
cure now Captain besides Oyl of Baies?
Why well enough I warrant you, you can go.
Yes, heaven be thanked; but I feel a shrowd ach, sure h'as sprang
I ha' lost a hanch.