Never leaving till they fled,
And (abhorring blood) at last
Pardon'd all offences past.
"For high Jove the heavens among
(Their support that suffer wrong)
Doth oppose himself again'
Bloody-minded, cruel men.
"For he shorteneth their days,
Or prolongs them with dispraise:
Or (his greater wrath to show)
Gives them over to their foe."
Cæsar, a citizen so wrong'd
Of the honour him belong'd,
To defend himself from harms
Was enforc'd to take up arms.
For he saw that envy's dart
(Pricking still their poisoned heart.
For his sudden glory got),
Made his envious foe so hot.
Wicked envy, feeding still
Foolish those that do thy will;
For thy poisons in them pour
Sundry passions every hour.
And to choler doth convert
Purest blood about the heart.
Which (o'erflowing of their breast)
Suff'reth nothing to digest.
"Other men's prosperity
Is their infelicity;
And their choler then is rais'd,
When they hear another prais'd..
"Neither Phoebus' fairest eye,
Feasts nor friendly company:
Mirth, or whatsoe'er it be,
With their humour can agree.
"Day or night they never rest,
Spiteful hate so pecks their breast.
Pinching their perplexed lungs
With her fiery poison'd tongues.
"Firebrands in their breasts they bear,
As if Tisiphon were there.
And their souls are pierc'd as sore
As Prometheus' ghost, and more.
"Wretches, they are woe-begone,[370]
For their wound is always one.
Nor hath Charon power or skill
To recure them of their ill." [_Exit._
FOOTNOTES:
[364] In the former edition Mr Dodsley had substituted, instead of
the words in the text, _cry you ah me!_ The alteration was, however,
entirely unnecessary. _To cry aim_, signified, as Dr Warburton
observes, _to consent to_, or _approve of anything_. "The phrase was
taken originally from archery. When any one had challenged another to
shoot at the butts (the perpetual diversion, as well as exercise, of
that time), the standers-by used to say one to the other, _Cry aim_,
_i.e._, accept the challenge." See Dr Warburton's note on "Merry Wives
of Windsor," act ii. sc. 3, where he has produced several examples of
the use of the phrase. Dr Johnson says, "I once thought that it was
borrowed from archery; and that _aim!_ having been the word of command,
as we now say, _present!_ to cry _aim_ had been _to incite notice_, or
raise attention. But I rather think that the old word of applause was
_J'aime_, _I love it_, and that to applaud was to cry _J'aime_, which
the English, not easily pronouncing _je_, sunk into _aime_ or _aim_."
Mr Steevens is of opinion that Dr Johnson's first thought is best. See
Notes on "King John," act ii. sc. 1. To the several instances produced
by these gentlemen the following may be added:--Middleton and Rowley's
"Fair Quarrel," act i. sc. 1--
"How now, gallants?
Beleeve me, then, I must _give aime_ no longer."
Beaumont and Fletcher's "False One," act v. sc. 4, edit. [Dyce, vi.
305]--
"By Venus, not a kiss
'Till our work be done! The traitors once despatched,
To it, and we'll _cry aim_."
It is remarkable that Mr Seward had made the same alteration in the
last passage, and consequently fallen into the same mistake as Mr
Dodsley had in the text.
[365] [Quell, or overcome.]
[366] _Crispy_ is curling. So, in Shakespeare's "Henry IV.," act i. sc.
3--
"Three times they breath'd, and three times did they drink,
Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood;
Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,
Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds,
And hid his _crisp_ head in the hollow bank,
Blood-stained with these valiant combatants."
See Mr Steevens's note on this passage.
[367] This word is common to many writers. As, Shakespeare's "Third
Part of Henry VI.," act ii. sc. 1--
"The proud, insulting queen,
With Clifford, and the _haught_ Northumberland."
See several examples in Mr Steevens's note on the last passage.
[368] That is, the right they own or possess. So, in the "Virgin
Martyr," by Massinger and Decker, act ii. sc. 2--
"Sir, he is more indebted
To you for praise, than you to him that _owes it_."
And in "Othello," act iii. sc. 3--
"Not poppy nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
Shall ever med'cine thee to that sweet sleep,
Which thou _ow'dst_ yesterday."
[369] [Empire.]
ACT V.
MESSENGER, CORNELIA, CHORUS.
MESSENGER. Unhappy man! amongst so many wracks
As I have suffer'd both by land and sea,
That scornful destiny denies my death!
Oft have I seen the ends of mightier men,
Whose coats of steel base death hath stol'n into;
And in this direful war before mine eyes
Beheld their corses scatter'd on the plains,
And endless numbers falling by my side;
Nor those ignoble, but the noblest lords.
'Mongst whom above the rest (that moves me most)
Scipio (my dearest master) is deceas'd;
And death, that sees the noblest[371] blood so rife,
Full-gorged triumphs, and disdains my life.
CORNELIA. We are undone.
CHORUS. Scipio hath lost the day;
But hope the best, and hearken to his news.
CORNELIA. O cruel fortune!
MESSENGER. These misfortunes yet
Must I report to sad Cornelia;
Whose ceaseless grief (which I am sorry for)
Will aggravate my former misery. [_Aside._
CORNELIA. Wretch that I am, why leave I not the world?
Or wherefore am I not already dead?
O world! O wretch!
CHORUS. Is this th' undaunted heart,
That is required in extremities?
Be more confirmed. And, madam, let not grief
Abuse your wisdom like a vulgar wit.
Haply the news is better than the noise;
Let's hear him speak.
CORNELIA. O no, for all is lost!
Farewell, dear father.
CHORUS. He is sav'd perhaps.
MESSENGER. Methinks I hear my master's daughter speak.
What sighs, what sobs, what plaints, what passions
Have we endur'd, Cornelia, for your sake?
CORNELIA. Where is thine emperor?
MESSENGER. Where our Captains are.
Where are our legions? where our men at arms?
Or where so many of our Roman souls?
The earth, the sea, the vultures, and the crows,
Lions and bears, are their best sepulchres.
CORNELIA. O miserable!
CHORUS. Now I see the heavens
Are heap'd with rage and horror 'gainst this house.
CORNELIA. O earth! why opest thou not?
CHORUS. Why wail you so?
Assure yourself that Scipio bravely died;
And such a death excels a servile life.
Say, messenger; the manner of his end
Will haply comfort this your discontent.
CORNELIA. Discourse the manner of his hard mishap,
And what disastrous accident did break
So many people, bent so much to fight.
MESSENGER. Cæsar, that wisely knew his soldiers' hearts,
And their desire to be approv'd in arms,
Sought nothing more than to encounter us.
And therefore, (faintly skirmishing) in craft
Lamely they fought, to draw us further on.
Oft (to provoke our wary, well-taught troops)
He would attempt the entrance on our bars:
Nay, even our trenches, to our great disgrace,
And call our soldiers cowards to their face.
But when he saw his wiles nor bitter words
Could draw our captains to endanger us,
Coasting along and following by the foot,
He thought to tire and weary us fro' thence;
And got his willing hosts to march by night
With heavy armour on their hard'ned backs,
Down to the sea-side, where before fair Thapsus,[372]
He made his pioneers, poor weary souls,
The selfsame day to dig and cast new trenches,
And plant strong barricades; where he encamp'd,
Resolv'd by force to hold us hard at work.
Scipio no sooner heard of his designs,
But, being afraid to lose so fit a place,
March'd on the sudden to the selfsame city;
Where few men might do much, which made him see
Of what importance such a town would be.
The fields are spread, and as a household-camp
Of creeping emmets in a country-farm,
That come to forage when the cold begins,
Leaving their crannies to go search about,
Cover the earth so thick, as scarce we tread,
But we shall see a thousand of them dead.
Even so our battles, scatter'd on the sand,
Did scour the plains in pursuit of the foe.
One while at Thapsus we begin t' entrench,
To ease our army, if it should retire;
Another while we softly sally forth;
And wakeful Cæsar that doth watch our being,
(When he perceives us marching o'er the plain)
Doth leap for gladness; and (to murder vow'd)
Runs to the tent, for fear we should be gone,
And quickly claps his rusty armour on.
For true it is, that Cæsar brought at first
An host of men to Afric, meanly arm'd;
But such as had brave spirits, and (combating)
Had pow'r and wit to make a wretch a king.
Well, forth to field they marched all at once,
Except some few that stay'd to guard the trench.
Them Cæsar soon and subtly sets in rank,
And every regiment, warned with a word
Bravely to fight for honour of the day.
He shows that ancient soldiers need not fear
Them that they had so oft disordered:
Them that already dream'd of death or flight;
That (tir'd) would ne'er hold out, if once they see,
That they o'erlaid them in the first assault.
Meanwhile our emperor, at all points arm'd,
Whose silver hairs and honourable front
Were (warlike) lock'd within a plumed casque,
In one hand held his targe of steel emboss'd,
And in the other grasp'd his coutelace,[373]
And with a cheerful look survey'd the camp;
Exhorting them to charge, and fight like men,
And to endure whate'er betided them.
For now, quoth he, is come that happy day,
Wherein our country shall approve our love.
Brave Romans, know this is the day and hour,
That we must all live free, or friendly die:
For my part, being an ancient senator,
An emperor and consul, I disdain
The world should see me to become a slave.
I'll either conquer, or this sword you see
(Which brightly shone) shall make an end of me.
We fight not, we, like thieves, for others' wealth:
We fight not, we, t' enlarge our scant confines:
To purchase fame to our posterities,
By stuffing of our trophies in their houses.
But 'tis for public freedom that we fight,
For Rome we fight, and those that fled for fear.
Nay more, we fight for safety of our lives,
Our goods, our honours, and our ancient laws.
As for the empire and the Roman state
(Due to the victor), thereon ruminate:
Think how this day the honourable dames,
With blubber'd eyes and hands to heaven uprear'd,
Sit invocating for us to the gods,
That they will bless our holy purposes.
Methinks I see poor Rome in horror clad,
And aged senators, in sad discourse,
Mourn for our sorrows and their servitude.
Methinks I see them while lamenting thus,
Their hearts and eyes lie hovering over us.
On then, brave men, my fellows and Rome's friends,
To show us worthy of our ancestors:
And let us fight with courage, and conceit
That we may rest the masters of the field;
That this brave tyrant, valiantly beset,
May perish in the press before our faces;
And that his troops (as touch'd with lightning flames)
May by our horse in heaps be overthrown,
And he (blood-thirsting) wallow in his own.
This said: his army crying all at once,
With joyful tokens did applaud his speech;
Whose swift, shrill noise did pierce into the clouds,
Like northern winds that beat the horned Alps.
The clatt'ring armour, buskling as they pac'd,
Rong through the forests with a frightful noise,
And every echo took the trumpet's clang.
When (like a tempest rais'd with whirlwind's rage)
They ran at ever-each[374] other hand and foot;
Wherewith the dust, as with a darksome cloud,
Arose, and over-shadow'd horse and man.
The darts and arrows on their armour glanc'd,
And with their fall the trembling earth was shaken.
The air (that thick'ned with their thund'ring cries)
With pale, wan clouds discoloured the sun.
The fire in sparks fro' forth their armour flew,
And with a duskish yellow chok'd the heavens.
The battles lock'd (with bristle-pointed spears)
Do at the half-pike freely charge each other,
And dash together like two lusty bulls,
That (jealous of some heifer in the herd)
Run head to head, and (sullen) will not yield,
Till, dead or fled, the one forsake the field.
The shiver'd lances (rattling in the air)
Fly forth as thick as motes about the sun:
When with their swords (flesh'd with the former fight)
They hew their armour, and they cleave their casques,[375]
Till streams of blood like rivers fill the downs;
That being infected with the stench thereof,
Surcloys the ground, and of a champion-land[376]
Makes it a quagmire, where (knee-deep) they stand.
Bloodthirsty Discord, with her snaky hair--
A fearful hag with her fire-darting eyes,
Runs 'cross the squadrons with a smoky brand,
And with her murd'ring whip encourageth
The over-forward hands to blood and death.
Bellona, fired with a quenchless rage,
Runs up and down, and in the thickest throng
Cuts, casts the ground, and madding makes a pool,
Which in her rage free passage doth afford,
That with our blood she may anoint her sword.
Now we of our side urge them to retreat,
And now before them we retire as fast,
As on the Alps the sharp north-northeast[377] wind,
Shaking a pine-tree with her greatest power,
One while the top doth almost touch the earth,
And then it riseth with a counterbuff.
So did the armies press and charge each other,
With selfsame courage, worth, and weapons too;
And, prodigal of life for liberty,
With burning hate let each at other fly.
Thrice did the cornets of the soldiers (clear'd)
Turn to the standard to be new-supplied;
And thrice the best of both was fain to breathe;
And thrice recomforted, they bravely ran,
And fought as freshly as they first began.
Like two fierce lions fighting in a desert,
To win the love of some fair lioness,
When they have vomited their long-grown rage,
And prov'd each other's force sufficient,
Passant regardant[378] softly they retire;
Their jawbones dy'd with foaming froth and blood;
Their lungs like sponges ramm'd within their sides;
Their tongues discover'd, and their tails long-trailing;
Till jealous rage (engendered with rest)
Returns them sharper-set than at the first;
And makes them couple, when they see their prize,
With bristled backs and fire-sparkling eyes,
Till tir'd or conquer'd, one submits or flies.
Cæsar,[379] whose kinglike looks, like day-bright stars,
Both comfort and encourage his to fight,
March'd through the battle, laying still about him,
And subtly mark'd whose hand was happiest;
Who nicely did but dip his spear in blood,
And who more roughly smear'd it to his fist;
Who staggering fell with every feeble wound,
And who more strongly pac'd it through the thick'st;
Him he inflam'd and spurr'd, and fill'd with horror.
As when Alecto, in the lowest hell,
Doth breathe new heat within Orestes' breast,
Till outward rage with inward grief begins
A fresh remembrance of our former sins.
For then (as if provok'd with pricking goads)
Their warlike armies (fast lock'd foot to foot)
Stooping their heads low-bent to toss their staves,
They fiercely opened both battalions,
Cleave, break, and raging tempest-like o'erturn
Whate'er makes head to meet them in this humour.
Our men-at-arms (in brief) begin to fly,
And neither prayers, entreaty, nor example
Of any of their leaders left alive
Had power to stay them in this strange career;
Straggling, as in the fair Calabrian fields,
When wolves, for hunger ranging fro' the wood,
Make forth amongst the flock, that scattered flies
Before the shepherd, that resistless lies.
CORNELIA. O cruel fortune!
MESSENGER. None resisting now,
The field was filled with all confusion,
Of murder, death, and direful massacres.
The feeble bands, that yet were left entire,
Had more desire to sleep than seek for spoil.
No place was free from sorrow; everywhere
Lay armed men, o'ertrodden with their horses;
Dismember'd bodies drowning in their blood,
And wretched heaps lie mourning of their maims,
Whose blood, as from a sponge, or bunch of grapes
Crush'd in a wine-press, gusheth out so fast,
As with the sight doth make the sound aghast.
Some should you see that had their heads half-cloven,
And on the earth their brains lie trembling.
Here one new-wounded helps another dying.
Here lay an arm, and there a leg lay shiver'd.
Here horse and man (o'erturned) for mercy cried,
With hands extended to the merciless,
That stopp'd their ears, and would not hear a word,
But put them all (remorseless) to the sword.
He that had hap to 'scape, doth help afresh
To reinforce the side whereon he serv'd.
But seeing that there the murd'ring enemy,
Pesle-mesle[380] pursued them like a storm of hail,
They 'gan retire, where Juba was encamp'd;
But there had Cæsar eftsoons tyrannis'd:
So that, despairing to defend themselves,
They laid aside their armour, and at last
Offer'd to yield unto the enemy;
Whose stony heart, that ne'er did Roman good,
Would melt with nothing but their dearest blood.
And Scipio thy father, when he beheld
His people so discomfited and scorn'd:
When he perceived the labour profitless,
To seek by new-encouraging his men
To come upon them with a fresh alarm:
And when he saw the enemies pursuit,
To beat them down as fierce as thund'ring flints,
And lay them level with the charged earth,
Like ears of corn with rage of windy show'rs,
Their battles scatter'd and their ensigns taken;
And (to conclude) his men dismay'd to see
The passage chok'd with bodies of the dead,
(Incessantly lamenting th' extreme loss
And suspirable death of so brave soldiers)
He spurs his horse, and (breaking through the press)
Trots to the haven, where his ships he finds,
And (hopeless) trusteth to the trustless winds.
Now had he thought to have arriv'd in Spain,
To raise new forces, and return to field;
But as one mischief draws another on,
A sudden tempest takes him by the way,
And casts him up near to the coasts of Hippon,[381]
Where th' adverse navy, sent to scour the seas,
Did hourly keep their ordinary course;
Where seeing himself at anchor slightly shipp'd:
Besieg'd, betray'd by wind, by land, by sea
(All raging-mad to rig his better vessels,
The little while this naval conflict lasted),
Behold, his own was fiercely set upon,
Which being sore beaten, till it brake again,
Ended the lives of his best fighting-men.
There did the remnant of our Roman nobles,
Before the foe and in their captain's presence,
Die bravely with their falchions in their fists.
When Scipio, that saw his ships through-gall'd,
And by the foe fulfill'd with fire and blood:
His people put to sword: sea, earth, and hell,
And heaven itself conjur'd to injure him--
Steps to the poop, and with a princely visage
Looking upon his weapon dy'd with blood,
Sighing he sets it to his breast, and said:
Since all our hopes are by the gods beguil'd,
What refuge now remains for my distress,
But thee, my dearest ne'er-deceiving sword?
Yea, thee, my latest fortune's firmest hope,
By whom I am assur'd this hap to have,
That, being freeborn, I shall not die a slave!
Scarce had he said, but, cruelly resolv'd,
He drench'd it to the pommel through his sides,
That fro' the wound the smoky blood ran bubbling.
Wherewith he stagger'd; and I stepp'd to him
To have embrac'd him: but he, being afraid
T' attend the mercy of his murd'ring foe,
That still pursued him, and oppress'd his ships,
Crawl'd to the deck, and, life with death to ease,
Headlong he threw himself into the seas.
CORNELIA. O cruel gods! O heaven! O direful fates!
O radiant sun, that slightly gild'st our days!
O night-stars, full of infelicities!
O triple-titled Hecate, queen and goddess,
Bereave my life, or living strangle me!
Confound me quick, or let me sink to hell!
Thrust me fro' forth the world, that 'mongst the spirits
Th' infernal lakes may ring with my laments!
O miserable, desolate, distressful wretch,
Worn in mishaps, yet in mishaps abounding!
What shall I do, or whither shall I fly,
To venge this outrage, or revenge my wrongs?
Come, wrathful furies, with your ebon locks,
And feed yourselves with mine enflamed blood!
Ixion's torment, Sisyph's rolling stone,
And th' eagle tiring[382] on Prometheus,
Be my eternal tasks; that th' extreme fire
Within my heart may from my heart retire.
I suffer more, more sorrows I endure,
Than all the captives in th' infernal court.
O troubled fate! O fatal misery!
That unprovoked deal'st so partially.
Say, fretful heavens, what fault have I committed,
Or wherein could mine innocence offend you,
When (being but young) I lost my first love, Crassus?
Or wherein did I merit so much wrong,
To see my second husband, Pompey, slain?
But 'mongst the rest, what horrible offence,
What hateful thing, unthought of, have I done,
That, in the midst of this my mournful state,
Nought but my father's death could expiate?
Thy death, dear Scipio, Rome's eternal loss,
Whose hopeful life preserv'd our happiness;
Whose silver hairs encouraged the weak;
Whose resolutions did confirm the rest:
Whose end, sith it hath ended all my joys,
O heavens, at least permit of all these plagues
That I may finish the catastrophe;
Sith in this widowhood of all my hopes
I cannot look for further happiness.
For, both my husbands and my father gone,
What have I else to wreak your wrath upon?
Now as for happy thee, to whom sweet death
Hath given blessed rest for life's bereaving;
O envious Julia, in thy jealous heart
Venge not thy wrong upon Cornelia.
But, sacred ghost, appease thine ire, and see
My hard mishap in marrying after thee.
O, see mine anguish! haply seeing it,
'Twill move compassion in thee of my pains,
And urge thee, if thy heart be not of flint,
Or drunk with rigour, to repent thyself,
That thou enflam'dst so cruel a revenge
In Cæsar's heart upon so slight a cause;
And mad'st him raise so many mournful tombs,
Because thy husband did revive the lights
Of thy forsaken bed; unworthily
Opposing of thy fretful jealousy
'Gainst his mishap, as it my help had been,
Or as if second marriage were a sin.
Was never city, where calamity
Hath sojourn'd with such sorrow as in this?
Was never state, wherein the people stood
So careless of their conquer'd liberty,
And careful of another's tyranny?
O gods, that erst of Carthage took some care,
Which by our fathers pitiless was spoil'd;
When thwarting destiny at Afric walls
Did topside-turvey turn their commonwealth;
When forceful weapons fiercely took away
Their soldiers, sent to nourish up those wars;
When (fir'd) their golden palaces fell down;
When through the slaughter th' Afric seas were dy'd,
And sacred temples quenchlessly enflam'd.
Now is our hapless time of hopes expir'd.
Then satisfy yourself with this revenge,
Content to count the ghosts of those great captains,
Which (conquer'd) perish'd by the Roman swords.
The Hannos, the Hamilcars, Hasdrubals,
Especially that proudest Hannibal,
That made the fair Thrasymene so desert:
For even those fields that mourn'd to bear their bodies,
Now (loaden) groan to feel the Roman corses.
Their earth we purple o'er, and on their tombs
We heap our bodies, equalling their ruin.
And as a Scipio did reverse their power,
They have a Scipio to revenge them on.
Weep therefore, Roman dames, and from henceforth
Vailing your crystal eyes to your fair bosoms,
Rain showers of grief upon your roselike cheeks,
And dew yourselves with spring-tides of your tears.
Weep, ladies, weep, and with your reeking sighs
Thicken the passage of the purest clouds,
And press the air with your continual plaints.
Beat at your ivory breasts, and let your robes
(Defac'd and rent) be witness of your sorrows.
And let your hair, that wont be wreath'd in tresses.
Now hang neglectly, dangling down your shoulders,
Careless of art or rich accoutrements,
That with the gold and pearl we us'd before
Our mournful habits may be deck'd no more.
Alas! what shall I do? O dear companions,
Shall I, O, shall I live in these laments?
Widow'd of all my hopes, my haps, my husbands,
And last, not least, bereft of my best father;
And of the joys mine ancestors enjoy'd,
When they enjoy'd their lives and liberty?
And must I live to see great Pompey's house,
A house of honour and antiquity,
Usurp'd in wrong by lawless Antony?
Shall I behold the sumptuous ornaments,
Which both the world and fortune heap'd on him,
Adorn and grace his graceless enemy?
Or see the wealth that Pompey gain'd in war,
Sold at a pike,[383] and borne away by strangers?
Die, rather, die, Cornelia; and to spare
Thy worthless life, that yet must one day perish.
Let not these captains vainly lie interr'd,
Or Cæsar triumph in thine infamy,
That wert the wife to th' one, and th' other's daughter.
But if I die, before I have entomb'd
My drowned father in some sepulchre,
Who will perform that care in kindness for me?
Shall his poor wand'ring limbs lie still tormented,
Toss'd with the salt waves of the wasteful seas?
No, lovely father and my dearest husband,
Cornelia must live (though life she hateth)
To make your tombs, and mourn upon your hearses;
Where, languishing, my famous faithful tears
May trickling bathe your generous sweet cinders;
And afterward, both wanting strength and moisture,
Fulfilling with my latest sighs and gasps
The happy vessels that enclose your bones,
I will surrender my surcharged life;
And, when my soul earth's prison shall forego,
Increase the number of the ghosts below.
_Non prosunt Domino, quæ prosunt omnibus, artes._
THO. KYD.
FINIS.
FOOTNOTES:
[370] Far gone in woe. Dr Warburton observes: "This word was common
enough amongst the old Scottish and English poets, as G. Douglas,
Chaucer, Lord Buckhurst, Fairfax." See Notes on "Second Part of Henry
IV.," act i. sc. 1., by him and Mr Steevens. Again, in Erasmus's
"Praise of Folie," sig. E 3: "As who before represented a kinge, being
clothed all in purpre, havinge no more but shifted hymselfe litle,
shoulde shew hymselfe agayne lyke _a woo begon_ myser."
[371] [Old copies, _nobles_.]
[372] _Thapsus_, a maritime town in Africa, where Cæsar defeated the
remains of Pompey's army.--_Steevens._
[373] [Cutlass.] "A cuttelas, courtelas, or short sword for a man at
armes."--Cotgrave's "Dictionary," _voce coutelas_.
[374] [Every-each, an uncommon form in our later literature, though
constantly occurring in the old poetry and romance.]
[375] Headpieces or helmets. So, in Marston's "Sophonisba," act i. sc.
2--
"And while our ore-toyl'd foe
Snores on his unlac'd _cask_, all faint, though proud;
Through his successful fight."
And _ibid._ act ii. sc. 2--"Enter Massinissa in his gorget and shirt,
shield, sword, his arme transfixt with a dart; Jugurth followes with
his cures and _caske_."
[376] [Old copies, _champant_.]
[377] [Old copies, _nor northeast_.]
[378] Terms of heraldry.--_Steevens._
[379] This speech is in great measure translated from the 7th Book of
Lucan, 1. 560, &c.--
"Hic Cæsar, rabies populi, stimulusque furorum,
Ne qua parte sui pereat scelus, agmina circum
It vagus, atque ignes animis flagrantibus addit.
Inspicit et gladios, qui toti sanguine manent,
Qui niteant primo tantum mucrone cruenti,
Quæ presso tremat ense manus," &c.--_Steevens._
[380] "Pell-mell. Confusedly, hand over head, all in a heap one with
another"--Cotgrave, voce _Pesle-mesle_. So, in Marston's "Sophonisba,"
act i. sc. 2--
"We gave the signe of battaile: shouts are rais'd
That shook the heavens: _Pell-mell_ our armies joyn
Horse, targets, pikes, all against each opposed."
[381] [Hipponium. See Smith's "Dict. of Geogr." _in v._]
[382] So both the ancient editions. Mr Dodsley altered it to _tearing_
unnecessarily and improperly. _To tire_ is a term in falconry, and
signifies to prey on, or tear in pieces.
So in Ben Jonson's "Poetaster," act iv. sc. 3--
"What, and be _tir'd_ on by yond' vulture?"
In "The Honest Man's Fortune," by Beaumont and Fletcher, [edit. Dyce,
iii. 383]--
"Ye dregs of baseness, vultures amongst men,
That _tire_ upon the hearts of generous spirits."
And in Dekker's "Match me in London"--
"The vulture _tires_
Upon the eagle's heart."
[383] _i.e._, Venalis sub hastâ.--_Steevens._ See also note on "The
Parson's Wedding."
SOLIMAN AND PERSEDA.
_EDITION._
_The Tragedy of Solyman and Perseda. Wherein is laid open
Loves constancy, Fortunes inconstancy, and Deaths Triumphs.
At London. Printed by Edward Allde for Edward White, and
are to be solde at the little North doore of Paule's Church
at the signe of the Gun._ [1599.] 4°.
Some copies are dated 1599, and Dr Bliss's purported on the title-page
to be "newly corrected and amended," but there was only one impression,
which received no fewer than three title-pages. Compare Hazlitt, p. 468.
Though not printed till 1599, the introduction of a part of the story
into Kyd's "Spanish Tragedy," licensed in 1592, may seem to show that
the play had been written, partly or wholly, several years before.
[HAWKINS'S PREFACE.]
The "Tragedy of Soliman and Perseda" is given from Mr Garrick's
copy, printed by Edward Allde, 1599. The author having concealed
his name, we cannot pronounce by whom it was written; though, might
the editor be allowed to indulge a conjecture, he would ascribe it
to Kyd, as it carries with it many internal marks of that author's
manner of composition. The plan is similar to that of "The Spanish
Tragedy," and the same phrases frequently occur in both. It is farther
observable, that in "The Spanish Tragedy" the story of "Erastus and
Perseda" is introduced by Hieronimo, in order, it should seem, to
bespeak the attention of the audience to a more regular and a more
perfect representation of their tragical catastrophe. Shakespeare
has frequently quoted passages out of this play, as the reader will
occasionally observe. It is not divided into acts--at least, they are
not particularly marked; but there is no doubt that the author intended
each act should close with the Chorus, and it is therefore divided
accordingly.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
SOLIMAN, _Emperor of the Turks_.
HALEB, }
} _his brothers_.
AMURATH, }
BRUSOR, _his general_.
_Janissaries._
_Lord Marshal._
PHILIPPO, _Governor of Rhodes_.
PRINCE OF CYPRUS.[384]
ERASTUS, _in love with Perseda_.
GUELPIO, } _his friends_.
JULIO, }
PISTON, _his servant_.
FERDINANDO, _in love with Lucina_.
BASILISCO, _a vainglorious knight_.
_A Captain._
_Knights._
_Witnesses._
_A Messenger._
PERSEDA, _beloved of Erastus_.
LUCINA, _beloved of Ferdinando_.
_Ladies._
CHORUS--_Love_, _Fortune_, _Death_.
THE TRAGEDY
OF
SOLIMAN AND PERSEDA.
FOOTNOTES:
[384] Cipris, _passim_.
ACT I.
_Enter_ LOVE, FORTUNE, DEATH.
LOVE.
What, Death and Fortune cross the way of Love?
FORTUNE.
Why, what is Love but Fortune's tennis-ball?
DEATH.
Nay, what are you both, but subjects unto Death?
And I command you to forbear this place;
For here the mouth of sad Melpomene
Is wholly bent to tragedy's discourse:
And what are tragedies but acts of death?
Here means the wrathful muse, in seas of tears
And loud laments, to tell a dismal tale--
A tale, wherein she lately hath bestow'd
The husky humour of her bloody quill,
And now for tables takes her to her tongue.
LOVE.
Why, thinks Death Love knows not the history
Of brave Erastus and his Rhodian dame?
'Twas I that made their hearts consent to love;
And therefore come I now as fittest person
To serve for chorus to this tragedy:
Had I not been, they had not died so soon.
DEATH.
Had I not been, they had not died so soon.
FORTUNE.
Nay then, it seems, you both do miss the mark:
Did not I change long love to sudden hate;
And then rechange their hatred into love;
And then from love deliver them to death?
Fortune is Chorus; Love and Death, begone!
DEATH.
I tell thee, Fortune, and thee, wanton Love,
I will not down to everlasting night,
Till I have moralis'd this tragedy,
Whose chiefest actor was my sable dart.
LOVE.
Nor will I up unto the brightsome sphere
From whence I sprang, till in the chorus' place
I make it known to you and to the world,
What interest Love hath in tragedies.
FORTUNE.
Nay then, though Fortune have delight in change,
I'll stay my flight, and cease to turn my wheel,
Till I have shown by demonstration,
What int'rest I have in a tragedy:
Tush! Fortune can do more than Love or Death.
LOVE.
Why stay we, then? let's give the actors leave;
And, as occasion serves, make our return. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ ERASTUS _and_ PERSEDA.
ERASTUS.
Why when, Perseda? wilt thou not assure me,
But shall I, like a mastless ship at sea,
Go ev'ry way, and not the way I would?
My love hath lasted from mine infancy,
And still increased, as I grew myself.
When did Perseda pastime in the streets,
But her Erastus over-ey'd her sport?
When didst thou, with thy sampler in the sun,
Sit sewing with thy pheers, but I was by,
Marking thy lily hand's dexterity;
Comparing it to twenty gracious things?
When didst thou sing a note that I could hear,
But I have fram'd a ditty to the tune,
Figuring Perseda twenty kind of ways?
When didst thou go to church on holidays,
But I have waited on thee to and fro,
Marking my times, as falcons watch their flight?
When I have miss'd thee, how I have lamented,
As if my thoughts had been assured true!
Thus in my youth; now, since I grew a man,
I have persevered to let thee know
The meaning of my true heart's constancy,
Then be not nice, Perseda, as women wont
To hasty lovers, whose fancy soon is fled;
My love is of a long continuance,
And merits not a stranger's recompense.
PERSEDA.
Enough, Erastus, thy Perseda knows;
She whom thou wouldst have thine, Erastus, knows.
ERASTUS.
Nay, my Perseda knows, and then 'tis well.
PERSEDA.
Ay, watch you[r] vantages? thine be it then--
I have forgot the rest, but that's th' effect;
Which to effect, accept this carcanet:
My grandam on her deathbed gave it me,
And there, ev'n there, I vow'd unto myself
To keep the same, until my wand'ring eye
Should find a harbour for my heart to dwell.
Ev'n in thy breast do I elect my rest;
Let in my heart to keep thine company.
ERASTUS.
And, sweet Perseda, accept this ring
To equal it: receive my heart to boot;
It is no boot, for that was thine before:
And far more welcome is this change to me,
Than sunny days to naked savages,
Or news of pardon to a wretch condemn'd,
That waiteth for the fearful stroke of death:
As careful will I be to keep this chain,
As doth the mother keep her children
From water-pits or falling in the fire.
Over mine armour will I hang this chain;
And, when long combat makes my body faint,
The sight of this shall show Perseda's name,
And add fresh courage to my fainting limbs.
This day the eager Turk of Tripolis,
The knight of Malta, honour'd for his worth,
And he that's titled by the golden spur,
The Moor upon his hot Barbarian horse,
The fiery Spaniard, bearing in his face
The impress of a noble warrior,
The sudden Frenchman and the big-bon'd Dane,
And English archers, hardy men-at-arms,
I-cleped Lions of the western world:
Each one of these approved combatants,
Assembled from sev'ral corners of the world,
Are hither come to try their force in arms,
In honour of the Prince of Cyprus' nuptials.
Amongst these worthies will Erastus troop,
Though like a gnat amongst a hive of bees:
Know me by this thy precious carcanet:
And, if I thrive in valour, as the glass,
That takes the sunbeams burning with his force,
I'll be the glass, and thou that heav'nly sun,
From whence I'll borrow what I do achieve:
And, sweet Perseda, unnoted though I be,
Thy beauty yet shall make me known ere night.
PERSEDA.
Young slips are never graff'd in windy days;
Young scholars never enter'd with the rod.
Ah, my Erastus, these[385] are Europe's knights,
That carry honour graven in their helms,
And they must win it dear, that win it thence:
Let not my beauty prick thee to thy bane;
Better sit still than rise and overta'en.
ERASTUS.
Counsel me not, for my intent is sworn,
And be my fortune, as my love deserves!
PERSEDA.
So be thy fortune, as thy features serve,
And then Erastus lives without compare.
_Enter a_ MESSENGER.
Here comes a messenger to haste me hence.--
I know your message, hath the princess
Sent for me?
MESSENGER.
She hath, and
Desires you to consort her to the triumphs. [_Exit._
_Enter_ PISTON.
PISTON.
Who saw my master? O sir, are you here?
The prince and all th' outlandish[386] gentlemen
Are ready to go to the triumphs;
They stay for you.
ERASTUS.
Go, sirrah,
Bid my men bring my horse, and a dozen staves.
PISTON.
You shall have your horses, and two dozen of staves. [_Exit_ PISTON.
ERASTUS.
Wish me good hap, Perseda, and I'll win
Such glory, as no time shall e'er rase out;
Or end the period of my youth in blood.
PERSEDA.
Such fortune as the good Andromache
Wish'd valiant Hector, 'rounded[387] with the Greeks,
I wish Erastus in his maiden wars:
O'ercome with valour these high-minded knights,
As with thy virtue thou hast conquer'd me.
Heav'ns hear my hearty prayer, and it effect.
[_Exeunt._
_Enter_ PHILIPPO, _the_ PRINCE OF CYPRUS, BASILISCO,
_and all the_ KNIGHTS.
PHILIPPO.
Brave knights of Christendom, and Turkish both,
Assembled here in thirsty honour's cause,
To be enrolled in the brass-leav'd book
Of never-wasting perpetuity,
Put lamblike mildness to your lion's strength,
And be our tilting like two brothers' sports,
That exercise their war with friendly blows.
Brave prince of Cyprus and our son-in-law,
Welcome these worthies by their sev'ral countries;
For in thy honour hither are they come,
To grace thy nuptials with their deeds at arms.
CYPRUS.
First, welcome, thrice renowned Englishman,
Graced by thy country, but ten times more
By thy approved valour in the field;
Upon the onset of the enemy,
What is thy motto, when thou spurr'st thy horse?
ENGLISHMAN.
In Scotland was I made a knight-at-arms,
Where for my country's cause I charg'd my lance:
In France I took the standard from the king,
And gave the flower of Gallia in my crest:
Against the light-foot Irish have I serv'd,
And in my skin bear tokens of their Kerns.
Our word of courage all the world hath heard,
Saint George for England, and Saint George for me!
CYPRUS.
Like welcome unto thee, fair knight of France,
Well-fam'd thou art for discipline in war:
Upon th' encounter of thine enemy,
What is thy mot, renowned knight of France?
FRENCHMAN.
In Italy I put my knighthood on,
Where in my shirt but with a single rapier
I combated a Roman much renown'd,
His weapon's point empoison'd for my bane,
And yet my stars did bode my victory.
Saint Denis is for France, and that for me!
CYPRUS.
Welcome, Castilian, too, amongst the rest;
For fame doth sound thy valour with the best:[388]
Upon the first encounter of thy foe,
What is thy word of courage, brave man of Spain?
SPANIARD.
At fourteen years of age was I made knight,
When twenty thousand Spaniards were in field,
What time a daring rutter[389] made a challenge,
To change a bullet with our swift-flight shot;
And I with single heed and level hit
The haughty challenger, and struck him dead:
The golden fleece is that we cry upon,
And Jaques, Jaques! is the Spaniard's choice.
CYPRUS.
Next, welcome unto thee, renowned Turk,
Not for thy lay, but for thy worth in arms:
Upon the first brave of thine enemy,
What is thy noted word of charge, brave Turk?
BRUSOR.
Against the Sophy in three pitched fields,
Under the conduct of great Soliman,
Have I been chief commander of an host,
And put the flint-heart Persians to the sword;
The desert plains of Afric have I stain'd
With blood of Moors, and there in three set battles fought,
March'd conqueror through Asia,
Along the coasts held by the Portuguese;[390]
Ev'n to the verge of gold, aboarding[391] Spain,
Hath Brusor led a valiant troop of Turks,
And made some Christians kneel to Mahomet:
Him we adore, and in his name I cry,
Mahomet for me and Soliman!
CYPRUS.
Now, Signior Basilisco, you we know,
And therefore give not you a stranger's welcome;
You are a rutter born in Germany:
Upon the first encounter of your foe,
What is your brave upon the enemy?
BASILISCO.
I fight not with my tongue; this is my oratrix.
[_Laying his hand upon his sword._
CYPRUS.
Why, Signior Basilisco, is it a she-sword?
BASILISCO.
Ay, and so are all blades with me: behold my instance;
Perdè, each female is the weaker vessel,
And the vigour of this arm infringeth
The temper of any blade, quoth my assertion,
And thereby gather that this blade,
Being approved weaker than this limb,
May very well bear a feminine epitheton.
CYPRUS.
'Tis well prov'd; but what's the word that glories your country?
BASILISCO.
Sooth to say, the earth is my country,
As the air to the fowl or the marine moisture
To the red-gill'd fish: I repute myself no coward:
For humility shall mount: I keep no table
To character my forepassed conflicts.
As I remember, there happened a sore drought
In some part of Belgia, that the juicy grass
Was sear'd with the Sun-God's element:
I held it policy to put the men-children
Of that climate to the sword,
That the mother's tears might relieve the parched earth.
The men died, the women wept, and the grass grew;
Else had my Friesland horse perished,
Whose loss would have more grieved me
Than the ruin of that whole country.
Upon a time in Ireland I fought
On horseback with an hundred Kerns
From Titan's eastern uprise to his western downfal:
Insomuch that my steed began to faint:
I, conjecturing the cause to be want of water, dismounted,
In which place there was no such element;
Enraged therefore, [I] with this scimitar,
All on foot, like an Herculean offspring,
Endured some three or four hours' combat,
In which process my body distill'd such dewy showers of sweat,
That from the warlike wrinkles of my front
My palfrey cool'd his thirst.
My mercy in conquest is equal with my manhood in fight,
The tear of an infant hath been the ransom of a conquer'd city;
Whereby I purchased the surname of _Pity's Adamant_.
Rough words blow my choler,
As the wind doth Mulciber's workhouse:
I have no word, because no country:
Each place is my habitation;
Therefore each country's word mine to pronounce.
Princes, what would you? I have seen much, heard more,
But done most: to be brief, he that will try me,
Let him waft me with his arm; I am his for some five lances:
Although it go against my stars to jest,
Yet to gratulate this benign prince,
I will suppress my condition.
PHILIPPO.
He is beholding to you greatly, sir:
Mount, ye brave lordings, forwards to the tilt;
Myself will censure of your chivalry,
And with impartial eyes behold your deeds:
Forward, brave ladies, place you to behold
The fair demeanour of these warlike knights.
[_Exeunt._
_Manet_ BASILISCO.
BASILISCO.
I am melancholy: an humour of Venus beleaguereth me.
I have rejected with contemptible frowns
The sweet glances of many amorous girls, or rather ladies:
But, certès, I am now captivated with the reflecting eye
Of that admirable comet Perseda.
I will place her to behold my triumphs,
And do wonders in her sight:
O heav'ns! she comes, accompanied with a child,
Whose chin bears no impression of manhood,
Not an hair, not an excrement.
_Enter_ ERASTUS, PERSEDA, _and_ PISTON.
ERASTUS.
My sweet Perseda!
BASILISCO.
Peace, infant; thou blasphemest.
[_Exeunt_ ERASTUS _and_ PERSEDA.
PISTON.
You are deceived, sir; he swore not.
BASILISCO.
I tell thee, jester, he did worse; he call'd that lady his.
PISTON.
Jester! _O extempore, O flores._[392]
BASILISCO.
O harsh, uneducate, illiterate peasant!
Thou abusest the phrase of the Latin.
PISTON.
By God's fish, friend, take you the Latin's part, I'll abuse you too.
BASILISCO.
What, _sance_ dread of our indignation?
PISTON.
_Sance?_ what language is that?
I think thou art a word-maker by thine occupation.
BASILISCO.
Ay? termest thou me of an occupation?
Nay, then, this fiery humour of choler is suppress'd
By the thought of love. Fair lady----
PISTON.
Now, by my troth, she is gone.
BASILISCO.
Ay? hath the infant transported her hence?
He saw my anger figured in my brow,
And at his best advantage stole away;
But I will follow for revenge.
PISTON.
Nay, but hear you, sir;
I must talk with you, before you go.
[PISTON _gets on his back, and pulls him down_.
BASILISCO.
O, if thou be'st magnanimous, come before me.
PISTON.
Nay, if thou be'st a right warrior, get from under me.
BASILISCO.
What, wouldst thou have me a Typhon,
To bear up Pelion or Ossa?
PISTON.
Typhon me no Typhons,
But swear upon my dudgeon-dagger,
Not to go, till I give thee leave;
But stay with me, and look upon the tilters.
BASILISCO.
O, thou seekest thereby to dim my glory.
PISTON.
I care not for that; wilt thou not swear?
BASILISCO.
O, I swear, I swear.
[_He sweareth him on his dagger._
PISTON.
By the contents of this blade,--
BASILISCO.
By the contents of this blade,--
PISTON.
I, the aforesaid Basilisco,--
BASILISCO.
I, the aforesaid Basilisco,--
Knight, good fellow; knight, knight.
PISTON.
Knave, good fellow; knave, knave:
Will not offer to go from the side of Piston,--
BASILISCO.
Will not offer to go from the side of Piston,--
PISTON.
Without the leave of the said Piston obtained.
BASILISCO.
Without the leave of the said Piston licensed,
Obtain'd, and granted.
PISTON.
Enjoy thy life, and live; I give it thee.
BASILISCO.
I enjoy my life at thy hands, I confess it:
I am up; but that I am religious in mine oath,--
PISTON.
What would you do, sir? what would you do?
Will you up the ladder, sir, and see the tilting?
[_Then they go up the ladders, and they sound_
_within to the first course._
BASILISCO.
Better a dog fawn on me than bark. [_Aside._
PISTON.
Now, sir, how lik'st thou this course?
BASILISCO.
Their lances were couch'd too high,
And their steeds ill-borne.
PISTON.
It may be so, it may be so:
[_Sound to the second course._
Now, sir, how like you this course?
BASILISCO.
Pretty, pretty, but not famous;
Well for a learner, but not for a warrior.
PISTON.
By my faith, methought it was excellent.
BASILISCO.
Ay, in the eye of an infant a peacock's tail is glorious.
[_Sound to the third course._
PISTON.
O, well-run; the bay horse with the blue tail
And the silver knight are both down:
By cock and pie,[393] and mouse-foot,
The Englishman is a fine knight.
BASILISCO.
Now, by the marble face of the welkin,
He is a brave warrior.
PISTON.
What an oath is there! fie upon thee, extortioner!
BASILISCO.
Now comes in the infant, that courts my mistress.
[_Sound to the fourth course._
O, that my lance were in my rest,
And my beaver clos'd for this encounter.
PISTON.
O, well-run; my master hath overthrown the Turk.
BASILISCO.
Now fie upon the Turk;
To be dismounted by a child, it vexeth me.
[_Sound to the fifth course._
PISTON.
O, well-run, master; he hath overthrown the Frenchman.
BASILISCO.
It is the fury of his horse, not the strength of his arm.
I would thou wouldst remit my oath,
That I might assail thy master.
PISTON.
I give thee leave, go to thy destruction:
But, sirrah, where's thy horse?
BASILISCO.
Why, my page stands holding him by the bridle.
PISTON.
Well, go, mount thee, go.
BASILISCO.
I go, and fortune guide my lance.
[_Exit_ BASILISCO.
PISTON.
Take the bragging'st knave in Christendom with thee--
Truly, I am sorry for him:
He just like a knight! he'll just like a jade.
It is a world to hear the fool prate and brag;
He will jet as if it were a goose on a green:
He goes many times supperless to bed,
And yet he takes physic to make him lean.
Last night he was bidden to a gentlewoman's to supper,
And, because he would not be put to carve,
He wore his hand in a scarf, and said he was wounded.
He wears a colour'd lath in his scabbard,
And, when 'twas found upon him, he said he was wrathful,
He might not wear iron: he wears civet,
And, when it was ask'd him where he had that musk,
He said all his kindred smelt so.
Is not this a counterfeit fool?
Well; I'll up, and see how he speeds.
[_Sound the sixth course._
Now, by the faith of a 'squire, he is a very faint knight;
Why, my master hath overthrown him
And his curtal both to the ground:
I shall have old laughing,
It will be better than the fox-in-the-hole[394] for me.
[_Sound._
_Enter_ PHILIPPO, PRINCE OF CYPRUS, ERASTUS,
FERDINANDO, LUCINA, _and all the Knights_.
CYPRUS.
Brave gentlemen, by all your free consents,
This knight unknown hath best demean'd himself:
According to the proclamation made,
The prize and honour of the day is his;--
But now unmask thyself that we may see
What warlike wrinkles time hath charactered
With age's print upon thy warlike face.
ENGLISHMAN.
Accord to his request, brave man-at-arms,
And let me see the face that vanquish'd me.
FRENCHMAN.
Unmask thyself, thou well-approved knight.
TURK.
I long to see thy face, brave warrior.
LUCINA.
Nay, valiant sir, we may not be denied,
Fair ladies should be coy to show their faces,
Lest that the sun should tan them with his beams:
I'll be your page this once for to disarm you.
PISTON.
That's the reason, that he shall help
Your husband to arm his head.
O, the policy of this age is wonderful.
PHILIPPO.
What, young Erastus! is it possible?
CYPRUS.
Erastus, be thou honour'd for this deed.
ENGLISHMAN.
So young, and of such good accomplishment!
Thrive, fair beginner, as this time doth promise,
In virtue, valour, and all worthiness:
Give me thy hand, I vow myself thy friend.
ERASTUS.
Thanks, worthy sir, whose favourable hand
Hath enter'd such a youngling in the war;
And thanks unto you all, brave worthy sirs:
Impose me task, how I may do you good;
Erastus will be dutiful in all.
PHILIPPO.
Leave protestations now, and let us hie
To tread _lavolto_, that is women's walk;
There spend we the remainder of the day.
[_Exeunt. Manet_ FERDINANDO.
FERDINANDO.
Though overborne, and foiled in my course,
Yet have I partners in mine infamy.
'Tis wondrous, that so young a toward warrior
Should bide the shock of such approved knights,
As he this day hath match'd and mated too:
But virtue should not envy good desert,
Therefore, Erastus, happy laud thy fortune:
But my Lucina, how she chang'd her colour,
When at th' encounter I did lose a stirrup;
Hanging her head, as partner of my shame.
Therefore now will I go visit her,
And please her with this carcanet of worth,
Which by good fortune I have found to-day;
When valour fails, then must gold make the way.
[_Exit._
_Enter_ BASILISCO, _riding of a mule_.
BASILISCO.
O cursed fortune, enemy to fame,
Thus to disgrace thy honoured name,
By overthrowing him that far hath spread thy praise,
Beyond the course of Titan's burning rays.
_Enter_ PISTON.
Page, set aside the gesture of my enemy;
Give him a fiddler's fee, and send him packing.
PISTON.
Ho, God save you, sir! have you burst your shin?
BASILISCO.
Ay, villain; I have broken my shin-bone,
My backbone, my channel[395]-bone, and my thigh-bone,
Beside two dozen of small inferior bones.
PISTON.
A shrewd loss, by my faith, sir:
But where's your courser's tail?
BASILISCO.
He lost the same in service.
PISTON.
There was a hot piece of service where he lost his tail;
But how chanc'd[396] it his nose is slit?
BASILISCO.
For presumption, for covering the emperor's mare.
PISTON.
Marry, a foul fault; but why are his ears cut?
BASILISCO.
For neighing in the emperor's court.
PISTON.
Why, then, thy horse hath been a colt in his time.
BASILISCO.
True thou hast said.
O, touch not the cheek of my palfrey,
Lest he dismount me while my wounds are green:
Page, run, bid the surgeon bring his incision:
Yet, stay, I'll ride along with thee myself. [_Exit._
PISTON.
And I'll bear you company.
[PISTON _getteth up on his ass, and rideth with_
_him to the door, and meeteth the_ CRIER.
_Enter the_ CRIER.
Come, sirrah, let me see how finely
You'll cry this chain.
CRIER.
Why, what was it worth?
PISTON.
It was worth more than thou and all thy kin are worth.
CRIER.
It may be so; but what must he have that finds it?
PISTON.
Why, a hundred crowns.
CRIER.
Why, then, I'll have ten for the crying of it.
PISTON.
Ten crowns! and had but sixpence
For crying a little wench of thirty years old and upwards
That had lost herself betwixt a tavern and a baudy-house.
CRIER.
Ay, that was a wench, and this is gold;
She was poor, but this is rich.
PISTON.
Why, then, by this reck'ning, a hackney-man
Should have ten shillings for horsing a gentlewoman,
Where he hath but tenpence of a beggar.
CRIER.
Why, and reason good;
Let them pay that best may,
As the lawyers use their rich clients,
When they let the poor go under _forma pauperis_.
PISTON.
Why then, I pray thee, cry the chain for me
_Sub forma pauperis_:
For money goes very low with me at this time.
CRIER.
Ay, sir, but your master is, though you be not.
PISTON.
Ay, but he must not know that thou cry'st the chain for me:
I do but use thee to save me a labour,
That am to make inquiry after it.
CRIER.
Well, sir, you'll see me consider'd, will you not?
PISTON.
Ay, marry, will I; why, what lighter payment
Can there be than consideration? [_Aside._
CRIER.
O yes!
_Enter_ ERASTUS.
ERASTUS.
How now, sirrah? what are you crying?
CRIER.
A chain, sir, a chain, that your man bad me cry.
ERASTUS.
Get you away, sirrah, I advise you,
Meddle with no chains of mine. [_Exit_ CRIER.
You paltry knave, how durst thou be so bold
To cry the chain, when I bid thou shouldst not?
Did I not bid thee only underhand
Make privy inquiry for it through the town,
Lest public rumour might advertise her,
Whose knowledge were to me a second death?
PISTON.
Why, would you have me run up and down the town,
And my shoes are done?
ERASTUS.
What you want in shoes, I'll give you in blows.
[_Beats him._
PISTON.
I pray you, sir, hold your hands,
And as I am an honest man,
I'll do the best I can to find your chain.
[_Exit._ PISTON.
ERASTUS.
Ah, treacherous fortune! enemy to love,
Didst thou advance me for my greater fall?
In dallying war I lost my chiefest peace;
In hunting after praise I lost my love,
And in love's shipwreck will my life miscarry.
Take thou the honour, and give me the chain,
Wherein was link'd the sum of my delight.
When she deliver'd me the carcanet,
Keep it, quoth she, as thou wouldst keep myself.
I kept it not, and therefore she is lost;
And lost with her is all my happiness;
And loss of happiness is worse than death.
Come therefore, gentle death, and ease my grief.
Cut short what malice Fortune misintends;
But stay a while, good death, and let me live;
Time may restore what Fortune took from me:
Ah, no! great losses seldom are restored.
What, if my chain shall never be restored?
My innocence shall clear my negligence.
Ah, but my love is ceremonious,
And looks for justice at her lover's hand:
Within forc'd furrows of her clouding brow,
As storms that fall amid a sunshine day,
I read her just desires and my decay. [_Exit._
_Enter_ SOLIMAN, HALEB, AMURATH, _and_
_Janissaries_.
SOLIMAN.
I long, till Brusor be return'd from Rhodes,
To know how he hath borne him 'gainst the Christians
That are assembled there to try their valour:
But more, to be well-assured by him,
How Rhodes is fenc'd, and how I best may lay
My never-failing siege to win that plot.
For by the holy Alcoran I swear,
I'll call my soldiers home from Persia,
And let the Sophy breathe, and from the Russian broils
Call home my hardy, dauntless janissaries,
And from the other skirts of Christendom,
Call home my bashaws and my men of war,
And so beleaguer Rhodes by sea and land.
That key will serve to open all the gates,
Through which our passage cannot find a stop,
Till it have prick'd the heart of Christendom,
Which now that paltry island keeps from scathe.
Say, brother Amurath, and, Haleb, say,
What think you of our resolution?
AMURATH.
Great Soliman, heav'n's only substitute,
And earth's commander under Mahomet,
So counsel I, as thou thyself hast said.
HALEB.
Pardon me, dread sov'reign, I hold it not
Good policy to call your forces home
From Persia and Polonia, bending them
Upon a paltry isle of small defence:
A common press of base, superfluous Turks
May soon be levied for so slight a task.
Ah, Soliman! whose name hath shak'd thy foes,
As withered leaves with autumn thrown down,
Fog not thy glory with so foul eclipse;
Let not thy soldiers sound a base retire,
Till Persia stoop, and thou be conqueror.
What scandal were it to thy mightiness,
After so many valiant bashaws slain,
Whose blood hath been manured to their earth,
Whose bones hath made their deep ways passable,
To sound a homeward, dull, and harsh retreat,
Without a conquest or a mean[397] revenge?
Strive not for Rhodes by letting Persia slip;
The one's a lion almost brought to death,
Whose skin will countervail the hunter's toil:
The other is a wasp with threat'ning sting,
Whose honey is not worth the taking up.
AMURATH.
Why, Haleb, didst thou not hear our brother swear
Upon the Alcoran religiously,
That he would make an universal camp
Of all his scatter'd legions? and dar'st thou
Infer a reason why it is not meet,
After his highness swears it shall be so?
Were it not thou art my father's son,
And striving kindness wrestled not with ire,
I would not hence till I had let thee know,
What 'twere to thwart a monarch's holy oath.
HALEB.
Why, his highness gave me leave to speak my will:
And, far from flattery, I spoke my mind,
And did discharge a faithful subject's love:
Thou, Aristippus[398]-like, didst flatter him,
Not like my brother or a man of worth.
And for his highness' vow I cross'd it not;
But gave my censure, as his highness bad.
Now for thy chastisement know, Amurath,
I scorn them, as a reckless lion scorns
The humming of a gnat in summer's night.
AMURATH.
I take it, Haleb, thou art friend to Rhodes.
HALEB.
Not half so much am I a friend to Rhodes,
As thou art enemy to thy sovereign.
AMURATH.
I charge thee, say wherein; or else, by Mahomet,
I'll hazard duty in my sovereign's presence.
HALEB.
Not for thy threats, but for myself I say,
It is not meet that one so base as thou
Should'st come about the person of a king.
SOLIMAN.
Must I give aim to this presumption?
AMURATH.
Your highness knows, I spake in duteous love.
HALEB.
Your highness knows, I spake at your command,
And to the purpose, far from flattery.
AMURATH.
Think'st thou, I flatter? now I flatter not.
[_He kills_ HALEB.
SOLIMAN.
What dismal planet guides this fatal hour?
Villain, thy brother's groans do call for thee,
[SOLIMAN _kills_ AMURATH.
To wander with them through eternal night.
AMURATH.
O Soliman, for loving thee I die.
SOLIMAN.
No, Amurath, for murthering him thou diest.
O Haleb, how shall I begin to mourn,
Or how shall I begin to shed salt tears,
For whom no words nor tears can well suffice?
Ah, that my rich imperial diadem
Could satisfy thy cruel destiny!
Or that a thousand of our Turkish souls,
Or twenty thousand millions of our foes,
Could ransom thee from fell death's tyranny!
To win thy life would Soliman be poor,
And live in servile bondage all my days.
Accursed Amurath, that for a worthless cause
In blood hath shortened our sweet Haleb's days!
Ah, what is dearer bond than brotherhood?
Yet, Amurath, thou wert my brother too,
If wilful folly did not blind mine eyes;
Ay, ay, and thou as virtuous as Haleb,
And I as dear to thee as unto Haleb,
And thou as near to me as Haleb was.
Ah, Amurath! why wert thou so unkind
To him for uttering but a thwarting word?
And, Haleb, why did not thy heart's counsel
Bridle the fond intemperance of thy tongue?
Nay, wretched Soliman, why didst not thou
Withhold thy hand from heaping blood on blood?
Might I not better spare one joy than both?
If love of Haleb forc'd me on to wrath,
Curs'd be that wrath that is the way to death!
If justice forc'd me on, curs'd be that justice,
That makes the brother butcher of his brother!--
Come, Janissaries, and help me to lament,
And bear my joys on either side of me--
Ay, late my joys, but now my lasting sorrow.
Thus, thus, let Soliman pass on his way,
Bearing in either hand his heart's decay. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ CHORUS.
LOVE.
Now, Death and Fortune, which of all us three
Hath in the actors shown the greatest power?
Have not I taught Erastus and Perseda
By mutual tokens to seal up their loves?
FORTUNE.
Ay, but those tokens, the ring and carcanet,
Were Fortune's gifts; Love gives no gold or jewels.
LOVE.
Why, what is jewels, or what is gold, but earth;
An humour knit together by compression,
And by the world's bright eye first brought to light,
Only to feed men's eyes with vain delight?
Love's works are more than of a mortal temper,
I couple minds together by consent:
Who gave Rhodes' princess to the Cyprian prince,
But Love?
FORTUNE.
Fortune, that first by chance brought them together;
For, till by Fortune persons meet each other,
Thou canst not teach their eyes to wound their hearts.
LOVE.
I made those knights, of several sect[s] and countries,
Each one by arms to honour his beloved.
FORTUNE.
Nay, one alone to honour his beloved:
The rest, by turning of my tickle wheel,
Came short in reaching of fair honour's mark:
I gave Erastus only that day's prize,
A sweet renown, but mix'd with bitter sorrow;
For, in conclusion of his happiness,
I made him lose the precious carcanet,
Whereon depended all his hope and joy.
DEATH.
And more than so; for he, that found the chain,
Even for that chain shall be depriv'd of life.
LOVE.
Besides, Love hath enforc'd a fool--
The fond braggado--to presume to arms.
FORTUNE.
Ay, but thou see'st, how he was overthrown
By Fortune's high displeasure.
DEATH.
Ay, and by Death had been surpris'd,
If fates had giv'n me leave;
But what I miss'd in him and in the rest,
I did accomplish on Haleb and Amurath,
The worthy brethren of great Soliman:
But wherefore stay we? let the sequel prove,
Who is the greatest: Fortune, Death, or Love.
[_Exeunt._
FOOTNOTES:
[385] [Old copies, _there_.]
[386] [Foreign.]
[387] [Old copy, _wounded_. In the margin of the copy used by Hawkins,
this emendation was suggested in MS.]
[388] [Old copy, _rest_.]
[389] [Horse-soldier, trooper.]
[390] [Old copy, _Portinguize_.]
[391] Coming to the coast. Fr. _Aboarder_.
[392] [An intentional blunder for _O tempora, O mores_.]
[393] [See Dyce's Glossary to his second edition of Shakespeare _in
v._].
[394] [A popular game so called.]
[395] [Collar (?)]
[396] [Old copies, _chance_.]
[397] [Moderate.]
[398] [The author had in his mind the character of this name in the
play of "Damon and Pithias," printed in our fourth volume.]
ACT II.
_Enter_ FERDINANDO _and_ LUCINA.
FERDINANDO.
As fits the time, so now well fits the place,
To cool affection with our words and looks,
If in our thoughts be semblant[399] sympathy.
LUCINA.
My words, my looks, my thoughts, are all on thee:
Ferdinando is Lucina's only joy.
FERDINANDO.
What pledge thereof?
LUCINA.
An oath, a hand, a kiss.
FERDINANDO.
O holy oath, fair hand, and sugar'd kiss!
O, never may Ferdinando lack such bliss!
But say, my dear, when shall the gates of heaven
Stand all wide open for celestial gods,
With gladsome looks to gaze at Hymen's robes?
When shall the graces or Lucina's hand
With rosy chaplets deck my golden tresses;
And Cupid bring me to thy nuptial bed,
Where thou in joy and pleasure must attend
A blissful war with me, thy chiefest friend?
LUCINA.
Full-fraught with love, and burning with desire,
I long have long'd for sight[400] of Hymen's lights.
FERDINANDO.
Then that same day, whose warm and pleasant sight
Brings in the spring with many gladsome flowers,
Be our first day of joy and perfect peace:
Till when receive this precious carcanet,
In sign that as the links are interlaced,
So both our hearts are still combin'd in one,
Which never can be parted but by death.
_Enter_ BASILISCO _and_ PERSEDA.
LUCINA.
And if I live, this shall not be forgot:
But see, Ferdinando, where Perseda comes,
Whom women love for virtue, men for beauty;
All the world loves, none hates but envy.
BASILISCO.
All hail, brave cavalier: good morrow, madam,
The fairest shine that shall this day be seen,
Except Perseda's beauteous excellence,
Shame to love's queen, and empress of my thoughts.
FERDINANDO.
Marry, thrice happy is Perseda's chance,
To have so brave a champion to her 'squire.
BASILISCO.
Her 'squire? her knight! and whoso else denies.
Shall feel the rigour of my sword and lance.
FERDINANDO.
O, sir, not I.
LUCINA.
Here is none but friends; yet let me challenge you.
For gracing me with a malignant style,
That I was fairest, and yet Perseda fairer;
We ladies stand upon our beauties much.
PERSEDA.
Herein, Lucina, let me buckler him.
BASILISCO.
Not Mars himself had e'er so fair a buckler.
PERSEDA.
Love makes him blind; and blind can judge no colour.[401]
LUCINA.
Why, then, the mends is made, and we still friends.
PERSEDA.
Still friends? still foes! she wears my carcanet.
Ah, false Erastus, how am I betray'd! [_Aside._
LUCINA.
What ails you, madam, that your colour changes?
PERSEDA.
A sudden qualm; I therefore take my leave.
LUCINA.
We'll bring you home.
PERSEDA.
No, I shall soon get home.
LUCINA.
Why, then, farewell: Ferdinando, let's away.
[_Exeunt_ FERDINANDO _and_ LUCINA.
BASILISCO.
Say, world's bright star, whence springs this sudden change;
Is it unkindness at the little praise
I gave Lucina with my glosing style?
PERSEDA.
No, no; her beauty far surpasseth mine,
And from my neck her neck hath won the praise.
BASILISCO.
What is it, then? If love of this my person,
By favour and by justice of the heavens,
At last have pierc'd through thy translucent breast,
And thou misdoubt'st, perhaps, that I'll prove coy;
O, be assur'd, 'tis far from noble thoughts
To tyrannise over a yielding foe.
Therefore be blithe, sweet love, abandon fear,
I will forget thy former cruelty.
PERSEDA.
Ah, false Erastus! full of treachery.
BASILISCO.
I always told you that such coward knights
Were faithless swains, and worthy no respect.
But tell me, sweet love, what is his offence?
That I with words and stripes may chastise him,
And bring him bound for thee to tread upon.
PERSEDA.
Now must I find the means to rid him hence.
[_Soliloq._]
Go thou forthwith, arm thee from top to toe,
And come an hour hence unto my lodging;
Then will I tell thee this offence at large,
And thou in my behalf shalt work revenge.
BASILISCO.
Ay, thus should men of valour be employ'd;
This is good argument of thy true love:
I go; make reck'ning that Erastus dies,
Unless (forewarn'd) the weakling coward flies.
[_Exit_ BASILISCO.
PERSEDA.
Thou foolish coward! flies? Erastus lives,
The fairest shap'd,[402] but foulest-minded man,
That ere sun saw within our hemisphere:
My tongue to tell my woes is all too weak,
I must unclasp me, or my heart will break;
But inward cares are most pent-in with grief,
Unclasping, therefore, yields me no relief.
Ah, that my moist and cloud-compacted brain
Could spend my cares in show'rs of weeping rain!
But scalding sighs, like blasts of boist'rous winds,
Hinder my tears from falling on the ground,
And I must die by closure of my wound.
Ah, false Erastus! how had I misdone,
That thou shouldst quit my love with such a scorn!
_Enter_ ERASTUS.
Here comes the Sinon of my heart:
I'll frame myself to his dissembling art.
ERASTUS.
Desire persuades me on, fear pulls me back:
Tush! I will to her; innocence is bold. [_Aside._
How fares Perseda, my sweet second self?
PERSEDA.
Well now, Erastus, my heart's only joy,
Is come to join both hearts in union.
ERASTUS.
And till I came, whereas my love did dwell,
My pleasure was but pain, my solace woe.
PERSEDA.
What love means, my Erastus, pray thee tell?
ERASTUS.
Matchless Perseda, she that gave me strength
To win late conquests from many victor's hands,
Thy name was conqueror, not my chivalry;
Thy looks did arm me, not my coat of steel;
Thy beauty did defend me, not my force;
Thy favours bore me, not my light-foot steed;
Therefore to thee I owe both love and life;
But wherefore makes Perseda such a doubt,
As if Erastus could forget himself;
Which if I do, all vengeance light on me!
PERSEDA.
Ay me, how graceless are these wicked men!
I can no longer hold my patience. [_Aside._
Ah, how thine eyes can forge alluring looks,
And feign deep oaths, to wound poor silly maids!
Are there no honest drops in all thy cheeks,
To check thy fraudful countenance with a blush?
Call'st thou me love, and lov'st another better?
If heav'ns were just, thy teeth would tear thy tongue
For this thy perjur'd false disloyalty:
If heav'ns were just, men should have open breasts,
That we therein might read their guileful thoughts:
If heav'ns were just, that power that forceth love
Would never couple wolves and lambs together:
Yes, heav'ns are just, but thou art so corrupt,
That in thee all their influence doth change,
As in the spider good things turn to poison.
Ah, false Erastus, how had I misdone,
That thou shouldst pawn my true affection's pledge
To her, whose worth will never equal mine?
What, is Lucina's wealth exceeding mine?
Yet mine sufficient to encounter thine.
Is she more fair than I? that's not my fault,
Nor her desert: what's beauty but a blast,
Soon cropp'd with age or with infirmities?
Is she more wise? her years are more than mine.
Whate'er she be, my love was more than hers;
And for her chastity let others judge.
But what talk I of her? the fault is thine:
If I were so disgracious in thine eye,
That she must needs enjoy my interest,
Why didst thou deck her with my ornament?
Could nothing serve her but the carcanet
Which, as my life, I gave to thee in charge?
Couldst thou abuse my true simplicity,
Whose greatest fault was overloving thee?
I'll keep no tokens of thy perjury:
Here, give her this; Perseda now is free,
And all my former love is turn'd to hate.
ERASTUS.
Ah! stay, my sweet Perseda; hear me speak.
PERSEDA.
What are thy words, but Siren's guileful songs,
That please the ear, but seek to spoil the heart.
ERASTUS.
Then view my tears, that plead for innocence.
PERSEDA.
What are thy tears, but Circe's magic seas,
Where none 'scape wreck'd but blindfold mariners?
ERASTUS.
If words and tears displease, then view my looks,
That plead for mercy at thy rigorous hands.
PERSEDA.
What are thy looks, but like the cockatrice,
That seeks to wound poor silly passengers?
ERASTUS.
If words, nor tears, nor looks may win remorse,
What then remains? for my perplexed heart
Hath no interpreters but words, or tears, or looks.
PERSEDA.
And they are all as false as thou thyself. [_Exit._
ERASTUS.
Hard doom of death, before my case be known;
My judge unjust, and yet I cannot blame her,
Since love and jealousy misled her thus,
Myself in fault, and yet not worthy blame,
Because that fortune made the fault, not love.
The ground of her unkindness grows, because
I lost the precious carcanet she gave me:[403]
Lucina hath it, as her words import;
But how she got it, heav'n knows, not I.
Yet this is some allevement to my sorrow:
That if I can but get the chain again,
I boldly then shall let Perseda know
That she hath wrong'd Erastus and her friend.
Ah, love! and if thou be'st of heav'nly power,
Inspire me with some present stratagem:
It must be so; Lucina's a frank gamester,
And like it is in play she'll hazard it;
For if report but blazon her aright,
She's a frank gamester, and inclin'd to play.
Ho! Piston!
_Enter_ PISTON.
PISTON.
Here, sir, what would you with me?
ERASTUS.
Desire Guelpio and Signior Julio come speak with me,
And bid them bring some store of crowns with them;
And, sirrah, provide me four vizards,
Four gowns, a box, and a drum;
For I intend to go in mummery.
PISTON.
I will, sir. [_Exit_ PISTON.
ERASTUS.
Ah, virtuous lamps of ever-turning heavens,
Incline her mind to play, and mine to win!
Nor do I covet but what is mine own:
Then shall I let Perseda understand,
How jealousy had arm'd her tongue with malice.
Ah! were she not Perseda, whom my heart
No more can fly, than iron can adamant,
Her late unkindness would have chang'd my mind.
_Enter_ GUELPIO _and_ JULIO, _with_ PISTON.
GUELPIO.
How now, Erastus? wherein may we pleasure thee?
ERASTUS.
Sirs, thus it is: we must in mummery
Unto Lucina, neither for love nor hate;
But, if we can, to win the chain she wears:
For, though I have some interest therein,
Fortune may make me master of mine own,
Rather than I'll seek justice 'gainst the dame.
But this assure yourselves, it must be mine,
By game or change, by one device or other:
The rest I'll tell you, when our sport is done.
JULIO.
Why, then, let's make us ready, and about it.
ERASTUS.
What store of crowns have you brought?
GUELPIO.
Fear not for money, man, I'll bear the box!
JULIO.
I have some little relay,[404] if need require.
PISTON.
Ay, but hear you, master, was not he a fool,
That went to shoot, and left his arrows behind him?
ERASTUS.
Yes, but what of that?
PISTON.
Marry, that you may lose your money, and go
Without the chain, unless you carry false dice.
GUELPIO.
'Mass, the fool says true; let's have some got.
PISTON.
Nay, I use not to go without a pair of false dice;
Here are tall men and little men.
JULIO.
High men and low men,[405] thou wouldst say.
ERASTUS.
Come, sirs, let's go. Drumsler, pray for me,
And I'll reward thee. And, sirrah Piston,
Mar not our sport with your foolery.
PISTON.
I warrant you, sir, they get not one wise word of me.
[_Sound up the drum to_ LUCINA'S _door_.
_Enter_ LUCINA.
LUCINA.
Ay, marry, this shows that Charlemagne[406] is come.
What, shall we play here? content,
Since Signor Ferdinand will have it so.
[_Then they play; and when she hath lost her_
_gold_, ERASTUS _pointeth to her chain, and_
_then she says_--
Ay, were it Cleopatra's union![407]
[_Then_ ERASTUS _winneth the chain, and loseth_
_his gold_.
LUCINA.
Signor Ferdinando, I am sure 'tis you!
And, gentlemen, unmask, ere you depart,
That I may know to whom my thanks are due
For this so courteous and unlook'd-for sport.
No! will't not be? then sup with me to-morrow?
Well, then, I'll look for you; till then, farewell.
[_Exit_ LUCINA.
ERASTUS.
Gentlemen, each thing hath sorted to our wish;
She took me for Ferdinando, mark'd you that?
Your gold shall be repaired with double thanks;
And, fellow drumsler, I'll reward you well.
PISTON.
But is there no reward for my false dice.
ERASTUS.
Yes, sir, a guarded suit from top to toe.
_Enter_ FERDINANDO.
Dazzle mine eyes, or is't Lucina's chain?--
False treacher, lay down the chain that thou hast stolen.
ERASTUS.
He lewdly lies that calls me treacherous.
FERDINANDO.
That lie my weapon shall put down thy throat.
[_Then_ ERASTUS _slays_ FERDINANDO.
JULIO.
Fly, Erastus, ere the governor have any news,
Whose near ally he was and chief delight.
ERASTUS.
Nay, gentlemen, fly you and save yourselves,
Lest you partake the hardness of my fortune.
[_Exeunt_ GUELPIO _and_ JULIO.
Ah, fickle and blind guidress of the world!
What pleasure hast thou in my misery?
Was't not enough, when I had lost the chain,
Thou didst bereave me of my dearest love;
But now, when I should repossess the same,
To cross me with this hapless accident?
Ah, if but time and place would give me leave,
Great ease it were for me to purge myself,
And to accuse fell Fortune, Love, and Death;
For all these three conspire my tragedy:
But danger waits upon my words and steps.
I dare not stay; for if the governor
Surprise me here, I die by martial law,
Therefore I go: but whither shall I go?
If into any stay adjoining Rhodes,
They will betray me to Philippo's hands,
For love, or gain, or flattery.
To Turkey must I go; the passage short,
The people warlike, and the king renown'd,
For all heroical and kingly virtues.
Ah, hard attempt, to tempt a foe for aid!
Necessity yet says it must be so,
Or suffer death for Ferdinando's death;
Whom honour's title forc'd me to misdo,
By checking his outrageous insolence.--
Piston, here take this chain, and give it to Perseda;
And let her know what hath befallen me:
When thou'st deliver'd it, take ship and follow me,
I will be in Constantinople.--
Farewell, my country, dearer than my life;
Farewell, dear friends, dearer than country soil;
Farewell, Perseda, dearest of them all,
Dearer to me than all the world besides.
[_Exit_ ERASTUS.
PISTON.
Now am I growing into a doubtful agony,
What I were best to do--to run away with this chain,
Or deliver it, and follow my master?
If I deliver it, and follow my master, I shall have thanks;
But they will make me never the fatter:
If I run away with it, I may live upon credit,
All the while I wear this chain;
Or domineer with the money when I have sold it.
Hitherto all goes well; but, if I be taken--
Ay, marry, sir, then the case is alter'd; ay, and halter'd too:
Of all things, I do not love to preach
With a halter about my neck:
Therefore for this once I'll be honest against my will;
Perseda shall have it: but, before I go, I'll be so bold
As to dive into the gentleman's pocket for good luck sake,
If he deny me not. How say you, sir? are you content?--
A plain case: _Qui tacet consitiri[408] videtur._
[_Robs_ FERDINANDO.
_Enter_ PHILIPPO _and_ JULIO [_behind_].
See where his body lies.
PHILIPPO.
Ay, ay; I see his body all too soon:
What barb'rous villain is't that rifles him?
Ah, Ferdinando! the stay of my old age
And chief remainder of our progeny.
Ah, loving cousin! how art thou misdone
By false Erastus? ah no, by treachery;
For well thy valour hath been often tried.
But whilst I stand and weep, and spend the time
In fruitless plaints, the murd'rer will escape
Without revenge, sole salve for such a sore--
Say, villain, wherefore didst thou rifle him?
PISTON.
'Faith, sir, for pure good-will.
Seeing he was going towards heaven,
I thought to see if he had a passport to Saint Nicholas, or no.
PHILIPPO.
Some sot he seems to be, 'twere pity to hurt him.
[_Aside._
Sirrah, canst thou tell who slew this man?
PISTON.
Ay, sir, very well; it was my master Erastus.
PHILIPPO.
Thy master? and whither is he gone now?
PISTON.
To fetch the sexton to bury him, I think.
PHILIPPO.
'Twere pity to imprison such a sot.
PISTON.
Now it fits my wisdom to counterfeit the fool.
[_Aside._
PHILIPPO.
Come hither, sirrah; thou knowest me
For the governor of the city, dost thou not?
PISTON.
Ay, forsooth, sir.
PHILIPPO.
Thou art a bondman, and wouldst fain be free?
PISTON.
Ay, forsooth, sir.
PHILIPPO.
Then do but this, and I will make thee free,
And rich withal; learn where Erastus is,
And bring me word, and I'll reward thee well.
PISTON.
That I will, sir; I shall find you at the castle, shall I not?
PHILIPPO.
Yes.
PISTON.
Why, I'll be here, as soon as ever I come again.
[_Exit_ PISTON.
PHILIPPO.
But for assurance that he may not 'scape,
We'll lay the ports and havens round about;
And let proclamation straight be made,
That he that can bring forth the murderer,
Shall have three thousand ducats for his pain:
Myself will see the body borne from hence,
And honoured with balm and funeral. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ PISTON.
God sends fortune to fools:
Did you ever see wise men escape as I have done?
I must betray my master! Ay, but when, can you tell?
_Enter_ PERSEDA.
See where Perseda comes, to save me a labour.--
After my most hearty commendations,
This is to let you understand, that my master
Was in good health at the sending hereof?
Yours for ever, and ever, and ever,
In most humble wise, Piston.
[_Then he delivers her the chain._
PERSEDA.
This makes me think that I have been too cruel:-- [_Aside._
How got he this from off Lucina's arm?
PISTON.
'Faith, in a mummery and a pair of false dice;
I was one of the mummers myself, simple as I stand here.
PERSEDA.
I rather think it cost him very dear.
PISTON.
Ay, so it did; for it cost Ferdinando his life.
PERSEDA.
How so?
PISTON.
After we had got the chain in mummery,
And lost our box in counter-cambio,
My master wore the chain about his neck;
Then Ferdinando met us on the way,
And revil'd my master, saying he stole the chain:
With that they drew, and there Ferdinando had the prickado.
PERSEDA.
And whither fled my poor Erastus then?
PISTON.
To Constantinople, whither I must follow him.--
But ere he went, with many sighs and tears
He deliver'd me the chain, and bad me give it you
For perfect argument that he was true,
And you too credulous.
PERSEDA.
Ah, stay no more,
For I can hear no more.
PISTON.
And I can sing no more.
PERSEDA.
My heart had arm'd my tongue with injury,
To wrong my friend, whose thoughts were ever true.
Ah, poor Erastus! how thy stars malign!
Thou great commander of the swift-wing'd winds
And dreadful Neptune, bring him back again:
But, Æolus and Neptune, let him go;
For here is nothing but revenge and death:
Then, let him go; I'll shortly follow him,
Now with slow sails, but with love's golden wings:
My ship shall be borne with tears, and blown with sighs;
So will I soar about the Turkish land,
Until I meet Erastus, my sweet friend:
And then and there fall down amid his arms,
And in his bosom there pour forth my soul,
For satisfaction of my trespass past.
_Enter_ BASILISCO _armed_.
BASILISCO.
Fair love, according unto thy command,
I seek Erastus, and will combat him.
PERSEDA.
Ay, seek him, find him, bring him to my sight;
For till we meet, my heart shall want delight.
[_Exit_ PERSEDA.
BASILISCO.
My pretty fellow, where hast thou hid thy master?
PISTON.
Marry, sir, in an armourer's shop,
Where you had not best go to him.
BASILISCO.
Why so? I am in honour bound to combat him.
PISTON.
Ay, sir; but he, knowing your fierce conditions,
Hath planted a double cannon in the door,
Ready to discharge it upon you when you go by.
I tell you for pure good-will.
BASILISCO.
In knightly courtesy, I thank thee:
But hopes the coystrel to escape me so?
Thinks he bare cannon-shot can keep me back?
Why, wherefore serves my targe of proof but for the bullet
That, once put by, I roughly come upon him,
Like to the wings of lightning from above;
I with a martial look astonish him,
Then falls he down, poor wretch! upon his knee,
And all too late repents his surquedry:
Then do I take him on my finger's point,
And thus I bear him thorough every street,
To be a laughing-stock to all the town:
That done, I lay him at my mistress' feet,
For her to give him doom of life or death.
PISTON.
Ay, but hear you, sir; I am bound,
In pain of my master's displeasure,
To have a bout at cuffs, afore you and I part.
BASILISCO.
Ha, ha, ha! eagles are challeng'd by paltry flies:
Thy folly gives thee privilege; be gone, be gone.
PISTON.
No, no, sir: I must have a bout with you, sir, that's flat;
Lest my master turn me out of service.
BASILISCO.
Why, art thou weary of thy life?
PISTON.
No, by my faith, sir.
BASILISCO.
Then fetch thy weapons; and with my single fist
I'll combat thee, my body all unarm'd.
PISTON.
Why, lend me thine, and save me a labour.
BASILISCO.
I tell thee, if Alcides liv'd this day,
He could not wield my weapons.
PISTON.
Why, wilt thou stay, till I come again?
BASILISCO.
Ay, upon my honour.
PISTON.
That shall be, when I come from Turkey.
[_Exit_ PISTON.
BASILISCO.
Is this little desperate fellow gone?
Doubtless, he is a very tall fellow;
And yet it were a disgrace to all my chivalry
To combat one so base:
I'll send some crane to combat with the pigmy;
Not that I fear, but that I scorn to fight.
[_Exit_ BASILISCO.
_Enter_ CHORUS.
LOVE.
Fortune, thou madest Ferdinando find the chain:
But yet by Love's instruction he was taught
To make a present of it to his mistress.
FORTUNE.
But Fortune would not let her keep it long.
LOVE.
Nay, rather, Love, by whose suggested power
Erastus us'd such dice as, being false,
Ran not by Fortune, but necessity.
FORTUNE.
Meantime, I brought Ferdinando on the way,
To see and challenge what Lucina lost.
DEATH.
And by that challenge I abridg'd his life,
And forc'd Erastus into banishment,
Parting him from his love, in spite of Love.
LOVE.
But with my golden wings I'll follow him,
And give him aid and succour in distress.
FORTUNE.
And doubt not too, but Fortune will be there,
And cross him too, and sometimes flatter him,
And lift him up, and throw him down again.
DEATH.
And here and there in ambush Death will stand,
To mar what Love or Fortune takes in hand.
[_Exeunt._
FOOTNOTES:
[399] [Old copy, _semblance_.]
[400] [Old copy, _light_.]
[401] [A common proverb. See Hazlitt's "Proverbs," 1869, p. 91.]
[402] [Old copy, _shape_.]
[403] [Old copy reads--
"Because I lost
The precious carcanet she gave to me."]
[404] [Old copy, _reply_.]
[405] So Shakespeare, "Merry Wives of Windsor," act i. sc. 8: "_Pist._
And _high_ and _low_ beguiles the rich and poor," _i.e._, _high and low
men_--false dice so called.
[406] [Lucina probably called Ferdinando by this name in sport.]
[407] [Pearl. See Nares, 1859, _in v._]
[408] He means to say _consentire_.
ACT III.
_Enter_ SOLIMAN _and_ BRUSOR, _with Janissaries_.
SOLIMAN.
How long shall Soliman spend his time,
And waste his days in fruitless obsequies?
Perhaps my grief and long-continual moan
Adds but a trouble to my brothers' ghost[s],
Which, but for me, would now have took their rest:
Then, farewell sorrow; and now, revenge, draw near.
In controversy touching the isle of Rhodes,
My brothers died; on Rhodes I'll be reveng'd:
Now tell me, Brusor, what's the news at Rhodes?
Hath the young Prince of Cyprus married
Cornelia, daughter to the governor?
BRUSOR.
He hath, my lord, with the greatest pomp,
That e'er I saw at such a festival.
SOLIMAN.
What, greater than at our coronation?
BRUSOR.
Inferior to that only.
SOLIMAN.
At tilt who won the honour of the day?
BRUSOR.
A worthy knight of Rhodes, a matchless man,
His name Erastus, not twenty years of age,
Not tall, but well-proportion'd in his limbs:
I never saw, except your excellence,
A man whose presence more delighted me;
And, had he worshipp'd Mahomet for Christ,
He might have borne me thoroughout all the world,
So well I lov'd and honoured the man.
SOLIMAN.
These praises, Brusor, touch me to the heart,
And make me wish that I had been at Rhodes
Under the habit of some errant knight,
Both to have seen and tried his valour.
BRUSOR.
You should have seen him foil and overthrow
All the knights that there encountered him.
SOLIMAN.
Whate'er he be, ev'n for his virtue's sake,
I wish that fortune of our holy wars
Would yield him prisoner unto Soliman,
That for retaining one so virtuous
We may ourselves be fam'd for virtues.
But let him pass; and, Brusor, tell me now,
How did the Christians use our knights?
BRUSOR.
As if that we and they had been one sect.
SOLIMAN.
What think'st thou of their valour and demeanour?
BRUSOR.
Brave men at arms, and friendly out of arms;
Courteous in peace, in battle dangerous;
Kind to their foes, and liberal to their friends;
And, all in all, their deeds heroical.
SOLIMAN.
Then tell me, Brusor, how is Rhodes fenced?
For either Rhodes shall be brave Soliman's,
Or cost me more brave soldiers
Than all that isle will bear.
BRUSOR.
Their fleet is weak;
Their horse, I deem them fifty thousand strong;
Their footmen more, well exercised in war;
And, as it seems, they want no needful victual.
SOLIMAN.
However Rhodes be fenc'd by sea or land,
It either shall be mine, or bury me.
_Enter_ ERASTUS.
What is he that thus boldly enters in?
His habit argues him a Christian.
ERASTUS.
Ay, worthy lord, a forlorn Christian.
SOLIMAN.
Tell me, man, what madness brought thee hither?
ERASTUS.
Thy virtuous fame and mine own misery.
SOLIMAN.
What misery? speak; for though you Christians
Account our Turkish race but barbarous,
Yet have we ears to hear a just complaint,
And justice to defend the innocent,
And pity to such as are in poverty,
And liberal hands to such as merit bounty.
BRUSOR.
My gracious sov'reign, as this knight
Seems by grief tied to silence,
So his deserts bind me to speak for him:
This is Erastus, the Rhodian worthy,
The flow'r of chivalry and courtesy.
SOLIMAN.
Is this the man that thou hast so described?
Stand up, fair knight, that what my heart desires,
Mine eyes may view with pleasure and delight.
This face of thine should harbour no deceit.
Erastus, I'll not yet urge to know the cause
That brought thee hither, lest
With the discourse thou shouldst afflict thyself,
And cross the fulness of my joyful passion.
But that we are assured,
Heav'n's brought thee hither for our benefit,
Know thou that Rhodes, nor all that Rhodes contains,
Shall win thee from the side of Soliman,
If we but find thee well-inclin'd to us.
ERASTUS.
If any ignoble or dishonourable thoughts
Should dare attempt or but creep near my heart,
Honour should force disdain to root it out!
As air-bred eagles,[409] if they once perceive
That any of their brood but close their sight
When they should gaze against the glorious sun,
They straightway seize upon him with their talents,[410]
That on the earth it may untimely die,
For looking but askew at heav'n's bright eye.
SOLIMAN.
Erastus, to make thee well-assured
How well thy speech and presence liketh us,
Ask what thou wilt, it shall be granted thee.
ERASTUS.
Then this, my gracious lord, is all I crave
That, being banish'd from my native soil,
I may have liberty to live a Christian.
SOLIMAN.
Ay, that, or anything thou shalt desire;
Thou shalt be captain of our Janissaries,
And in our council shalt thou sit with us,
And be great Soliman's adopted friend.
ERASTUS.
The least of these surpass my best desert,
Unless true loyalty may seem desert.
SOLIMAN.
Erastus, now thou hast obtained thy boon,
Deny not Soliman this one request;
A virtuous envy pricks me with desire
To try thy valour: say, art thou content?
ERASTUS.
Ay, if my sov'reign say content, I yield.
SOLIMAN.
Then give us swords and targets:
And now, Erastus, think thee mine enemy,
But ever after thy continual friend;
And spare me not, for then thou wrong'st my honour.
[_Then they fight, and_ ERASTUS _overcomes_
SOLIMAN.
Nay, nay, Erastus, throw not down thy weapons,
As if thy force did fail; it is enough
That thou hast conquer'd Soliman by strength:
By courtesy let Soliman conquer thee.
And now from arms to council sit thee down.
Before thy coming I vow'd to conquer Rhodes:
Say, wilt thou be our lieutenant there,
And further us in manage of these wars?
ERASTUS.
My gracious sovereign, without presumption,
If poor Erastus may once more entreat,
Let not great Soliman's command,
To whose behest I vow obedience,
Enforce me sheathe my slaught'ring blade
In the dear bowels of my countrymen:
And, were it not that Soliman hath sworn,
My tears should plead for pardon in that place.
I speak not this to shrink away for fear,
Or hide my head in time of dangerous storms:
Employ me elsewhere in thy foreign wars;
Against the Persians or the barbarous Moor,
Erastus will be foremost in the battle.
SOLIMAN.
Why favour'st thou thy countrymen so much,
By whose cruelty thou art exil'd?
ERASTUS.
'Tis not my country, but Philippo's wrath
(It must be told) for Ferdinando's death,
Whom I in honour's cause have reft of life.
SOLIMAN.
Nor suffer this or that to trouble thee:
Thou shalt not need Philippo nor his isle;
Nor shalt thou war against thy countrymen:
I like thy virtue in refusing it.
But, that our oath may have his current course,
Brusor, go levy men;
Prepare a fleet t' assault and conquer Rhodes.
Meantime Erastus and I will strive
By mutual kindness to excel each other.
Brusor, begone; and see not Soliman,
Till thou hast brought Rhodes in subjection.
[_Exit_ BRUSOR.
And now, Erastus, come and follow me,
Where thou shalt see what pleasures and what sports
My minions and my eunuchs can devise
To drive away this melancholy mood.
[_Exit_ SOLIMAN.
_Enter_ PISTON.
PISTON.
O master, see where I am.
ERASTUS.
Say, Piston, what's the news at Rhodes?
PISTON.
Cold and comfortless for you:
Will you have them all at once?
ERASTUS.
Ay.
PISTON.
Why, the governor will hang you, and he catch you:
Ferdinando is buried; your friends commend them to you;
Perseda hath the chain, and is like to die for sorrow.
ERASTUS.
Ay, that's the grief, that we are parted thus:
Come, follow me, and I will hear the rest;
For now I must attend the emperor. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ PERSEDA, LUCINA, _and_ BASILISCO.
PERSEDA.
Accursed chain! unfortunate Perseda!
LUCINA.
Accursed chain! unfortunate Lucina!
My friend is gone, and I am desolate.
PERSEDA.
My friend is gone, and I am desolate:--
Return him back, fair stars, or let me die.
LUCINA.
Return him back, fair heav'ns, or let me die;
For what was he but comfort of my life?
PERSEDA.
For what was he but comfort of my life?
But why was I so careful of the chain?
LUCINA.
But why was I so careless of the chain?
Had I not lost it, my friend had not been slain.
PERSEDA.
Had I not ask'd it, my friend had not departed;
His parting is my death.