_Enter Magdalen, Timothy and Alexander_.
_Ma_. Run, good sweet _Timothy_; search the barnes, the stab[les], while
I looke in the Chambers. Should she be lost or come to any harme my lady
will hang us all. Why dost not fly?
_Tim_. Hey day, if her feet walke as fast as thy tongue, sh[e's] far
enough ere this time. What a stir you make! Were you, as shee is, with
your sweet heart, you would [be] pursud, would you? You would be hangd
as soone. Al[as], good gentlewoman, heaven speed her!
_Ma_. You will not goe then?
_Tim_. No, indeed, will I not.
Her mother may be angry if she please.
The time has bin she would as willingly
Bin at the sport her selfe as now her daughter.
The ge[ntleman] shees gon with is a man,
And see theres no harme d[one], I warrant you.
_Lov_. Ha, ha, gramercy, _Timothy_, thou hittst it right. _Maudlin_, goe
to; should _Tim_ here offer as much to you, ha, I beleave you would not
lock your selfe up in my ladyes closett; goe to, and goe to.
[_Exeunt_.
_Ma_. Udsme, my lady!
_Enter Lady_.
_Lady_. Lost, past redemption! I pursue a fier
Which like the giddy Meteors that seduce
With their false light benighted travellers
Allures me to distruction. To curse fate
Were to allow I feard it, and admit
Participation in me of that spiritt
I most detest, a womans.
_Lov_. Please your good Ladyship.
_Lady_. Yes, that you depart.-- [_Exit Alexander_.
What can he see in her more worthy love
Then is in me? shees but a picture drawne
By my dimensions, and men sooner fancy
The Substance then the Shaddow. Oh, but shee
Is the true image not of what I am
But what I was, when like the spring I wore
My virgin roses on my cheeks.
_Lov_. Madam, you seeme--
_Lady_. Angry at your impertinency; learne manners, leave me.
_Lov_. She has coniurd downe my spirit: these are immodest devills that
make modest ladyes become strickers[118]. Ile out oth storme, take
shelter in the cellar. Goe to and goe to; tis better venter quarriling
mongst those hogesheads.
[_Exit Alexander_.
_Enter Maudlin [and Timothy.]_
_Ma_. Madam, your daughter--
_Lady_. Where is she? Who? _Clariana_?
_Ma_. The faire _Belisea_.
_Enter Clariana_.
_Cla_. Did you call me, madam.
_Lady_. Noe: were you soe neere? begon againe,--
Yet stay.--_Maudlin_, avoid the Roome, and if you see
Mr. _Thurston_, entreat him hither. _Timothy_,
Find out my son and charge him to delay
The execution of my late comaund
Till I next speake with him. [_Exeunt Mag. and Tim_.
_Clariana_, you did what I comanded?
_Cla_. Yes, on my Soule.
_Lady_. But thou art ignorant
Why with such violence I inioyn[e]d thee
To leave thy _Thurstons_ love?
_Cla_. Were I not sure
Theres nought in him that can be titled ill,
I should have thought your circumspective Judgment
Had spide some error in him, and in care
Of me your child forbidden me his love.
But whatsoer's the cause, though your comaund
Was like perdition welcome, my obedience
Fullfild it truly, without questioning
The reason why or the unlimited power
Of you my mother.
_Lady_. You did very well.
Now thou shalt know the reason, which before
I doe relate, afford me leave to weepe,
To save thy teares, which at the hearing of it
Will, like the dew on lillies, pearle thy cheekes.
I have beheld thee with a Rivalls eye
In _Thurstons_ love; my penetrable heart,
Like a moist cloud, has opened and receivd
Loves fine bolt into it. Now thou knowst it,
Methinks I see confusion in thy lookes
Prepard to blast me.
_Cla_. Heaven forbid it I
Should ere conceive the meanest thought of ill
Of you, my parent. Since you love him, here
To heaven and you I give my interest up
And would I could as well commaund his heart
As he might mine, beleive me you should then
Affect you with as true and deare a zeale
As ever I did him: I should be happie
In making you soe.
_Lady_. Charitable girle,
Forgive thy cruell mother, who must yet
Impose a stronger penance on thy duty:
Thou must go to thy _Thurston_, and obtaine
His love.
_Cla_. A little labour will serve for that.
_Lady_. Not for thy selfe but for thy haplesse mother,
Who am, without it, nothing. Woe him for me,
Use the inchanting musicke of thy voice
On my behalfe, who, though thy Rivall, yet
Remember I'm thy mother; nor canst thou
Consigne thy breath to a more holy use
(Though thou shouldst spend it in religious prayers)
Then to redeeme thy parent. Weepe for me,
And in requitall for each drop thou shedst
I'll pay to heaven a Hecatombe of teares
For thy successe. But take good heede, deare child,
While thou art weeping, thou dost not disclose
That face of thine; for, were he mine by vow,
Loves powerfull Retorick uttered [in?] thyne eyes
Would winn from me.
_Enter Thurston and Thorowgood_.
_Cla_. Here comes the Gentleman.
_Lady_. Be earnest, _Clariana_, I shall heare you.
[_Exit_.
_Tho_. Sir, you must iuistifie this.
_Thu_. Feare it not; yonder she goes; I'll tell her of it, sheele not
denie it.
_Cla_. Mr. _Thurston_, whether do you walke soe fast?
_Thu_. O, _Clarianna_, are you there?
_Cla_. Nay, stay, I have a suite to you.
_Thu_. I would
Be loth to offend your eyes; when we last met
You chargd me never to behold you more.
_Cla_. I did indeed, but on mature advice
I have reclaimd that imposition.
You shall behold me dayly, talke with me,
Doe all the acts that love with Innocence
Can suffer, if youle but overrule your will
To graunt me one request.
_Thu_. You wrong my faith
In questioning my graunt of any thing
You can desire wer't to undoe my selfe
Or combate miseries as yet unheard of,
You[r] least breath may expose me to them.
_Cla_. Nay, in this theres no danger; if there be
A real happines on earth, this way
You shall arrive to it.
_Tho_. He were unwise
Would he not graunt it then.
_Thu_. Please you declare it.
_Cla_. There is a lady,
Of such a perfect virtue, grace and sweetnes,
That Nature was to all our sex beside
A niggard, only bountiful to her;
One whose harmonious bewtie may intitule
All hearts its captive: yet she doats on you
With such a masculine fancy that to love her
Is duty in you.
_Thu_. It is herselfe, Ime sure.
_Tho_. It surely is no other.
_Cla_. No, tis one
So farr transcending me, that twere a sinne
Should I deprive you, the most perfect man,
Of her, the perfectest woman. She will weepe
Even at your name; breath miriads of sighes;
Wring her hands thus; demonstrate all the signes
Of a destracted lover; that in pitty,
Though I did love you well, I have transferd
My right to her, and charge you by all ties
That you affect her with the same true zeale
Which you did me, and ift be possible,
Purer and better.
_Tho_. This is the strangest madnes I ere heard of.
_Thu_. Is it you, _Clariana_, that speake all this?
_Cla_. You know and heare it is.
_Thu_. But I doe scarce
Credit my hearing, or conceive I am
Mortall, for surely, had I bin, your words
Like the decree of heaven had struck me dead.
What strong temptation lay you on my faith!
O, _Clariana_, let me but decline
Passion, and tell you seriously that this
Is cruel in you, first to scorne my love,
Next to admitt a scruple of beleife,
Though you can be perfidious to your selfe,
That I can be soe. Noe; since you are lost,
Ile like the solitary turtle mourne
Cause I must live without you. But, pray, tell me
What is she you would have me love?
_Cla_. My Mother.
_Thu_. Ha, your Mother!
_Tho_. Ist possible, lady? you much doe wrong
Your innocence in laboring to enforce
That upon him which is my interest. Heaven
Smild at the contract twixt us; quiers of Saints
Receivd our mutuall vowes, and though your Mother
May in her passion seeme to have forgott
Her pretious faith, yet when I shall awake
Her sleeping reason with the memory
Of that has past betwixt us, my strong hope
Tells me I shall induce her to the spheare
Which she has movd from.
_Cla_. Would heaven you could! How coldly in this cause
Doe I perswade! when I would speake, my heart
Checks its bold orator, my tongue, and tells it
Tis traitorous to its Mr.--Noble Sir, [_kneele_
I doe conceit you infinitly good,
So pittiful that mercy is in you
Even naturally superlative, (forgive me,
If I offend) you doe in this transgresse
Humanity, to let a lady love you
Without requitall. But I must professe
To heaven and you, that here Ile fix to earth,
Weepe till I am a statue, but Ile gaine
Your pitie for her: pray consider ont.
_Thu_. Consider ont? wonder has soe engrossd
To its wild use all corners of my heart
That there remaines scarce one poore concave left
To hold consideration. I must either
Love her I hate or see her whome I love
Wilfully perish. See, shee kneeles and weeps,
Prays as she meant to expiate all the sinns
Earth ere committed. One of those pure drops
Does (as my lives blood in a soddaine trance)
Surround my heart. You have prevaild, arise:
At your request I will performe an act,
Which may no story hold least all who love
Hereafter curse the president,--Ile love her.
That deathfull word comes from my torturd soule
As a consent doth from a timorous maid
For an enforcing ravisher.
_Tho_. You are not mad, sir? what doe you meane?
_Cla_. I thanke you.
But love her dearely, _Thurston_, sheele deserv't:
I doe remember, when my Father livd,
How he would praise her goodnes. Think on me
As one that lovd you well, but neer like her;
And, if you please, bestow each day a kisse
Uppon her in my memory. Soe, farewell.--
Sorrows flow high: one griefe succeed another;
I die in piety to redeeme my Mother. [_Exit_.
_Tho_. But, harke you, sir, do you intend to love her.
_Thu_. Good sir, torment me not.
_Enter Grimes_.
_Grimes_. By your leave, gentlemen: good Mr.
_Thorowgood_, a word or two in private.
_Thu_. Compeld to love my enemy! what man,
That had but so much spiritt as a mule,
Could suffer this! Lay nice prescriptions,
Ambiguous bookmen, on submissive slaves;
Affright with terror of a wilfull death
Those whom black murders of inhumane sin
Has living damnd; Ime yet in my owne heart
White as a babe, as Innocent as light
From any mortall guilt; and were my soule
Drawn fro this mew[119] of flesh twould quickly streatch
Like a swift Falkon her aspiring wings
And soare at heaven. Nature instructs us Death
Is due to all: how can't be then a Sinn
To die, or he more guilty of offense
That kills himselfe or [than?] he who in his bed
Some shivoring ague murders? Ime resol[v']d;
Ile rather chuse to immolate my life
In Martirdome to virtue then reserve't
Till it be staind with mischiefes.
_Enter Lady_.
_Lady_. How doe you, sir?
_Thu_. Oh, oh, my head, my head!
Stand further of, good nightcrow: if thou comst
As a presaging harbinger of death,
Howlt in thy direfulst and most horrid notes,
And ['t] will be wellcome as choyse musick to me
And Ile adore thee fort, with teares of ioy
Make thy black feathers white.
_Lady_. Good sir, mistake me not, I am your friend.
_Thu_. I cry you mercy, lady; you are shee
Whom I had vowd to love;--a wild conceite
Had seasd my fancy. Pardon me, I must
Proclaim to heaven and to the world a truth
Which I should study to forget: you are
A Creature so suparlatively bad
That, were the earth as absolute from sinn
As in its first creation, youre sole crimes
Would pull a curse upon it. I should tell you
The specialties wherein you're foule, but dare not
Breath in the same ayre with you; I begin
To feel infection:--fare you well. [_Exit_.
_Lady_. Contemnd againe! deprive me of the name
And soule of woman! render me a scorne
To the most base of our revengefull sex!
If I beare this while there be knives or swords,
Poyson or ought left to extinguish life
That womans spleene can compasse--
_Alexander_! within there!
_Enter Alexander_.
Goe to my sonn; inioyne him by all rights
Of naturall duty to accomplish that
Which in youre hearing I comanded him.
Beare him this Jewell and this gold, that when
Tis don he may escape; be carefull,
As you expect my favour.
_Alex_. I shall inculcate your desires unto him.
--Her favour! goe to, theres comfort.
[_Exit_.
_Enter Thorowgood_.
_Tho_. Madam, theres one brings a sad message to you.
_Lady_. From whome, I pray you.
_Tho_. From two friends of yours
Your cruelty has murdred,
_Lady_. My cruelty
Never extended to that horrid height,
Not to my foes. Who are they?
_Tho_. Your daughter,
The innocent _Belisia_, and my friend,
Her worthy suiter, _Bonvill_.
_Lady_. Your freind and my daughter dead and by my meanes!
This cannot be; my daughters sure in the house.
Good sir, unfould this ridle, it begetts
Wonder and terror in me.
_Tho_. Madam, you know with what a cruel messuage
You sent me to my friend, which provd as false
As your faire daughter virtuous. Why you did it
I will not question, nor upbraid you with
This violation of your faith.
_Lady_. This story
Conduces nothing to the deathes you talkd of.
_Tho_. Yes, since then
A iust mistrust that you would crosse their match
Causd them last night privatly to steale hence
With an intention to have reacht the house
Where _Bonvills_ mother lives; but see the fates
How they dispose of men! crossing the River
That runns beneath your orchard, and ith darke,
Their headstrong horses missing the ford overthrew them
And, which I cannot without true griefe utter,
There drownd them both.
Was it not soe, _Grimes_?
_Grimes_. Tis too sad a truth; and I,
After all meanes to save their life was past,
Lookd to my owne and got the shore: their bodies
I feare the violence of the tide has carried
Into the Sea by this time.
_Lady_. Enough, good friend; no more.
Had a rude _Scythian_, ignorant of teares,
Unlesse the wind enforcd them from his eyes,
Heard this relation, sure he would have wept;
And yet I cannot. I have lost all sense
Of pitty with my womanhood, and now
That once essentiall Mistress of my soule,
Warme charity, no more inflames my brest
Than does the glowewormes ineffectual fire
The ha[n]d that touches it. Good sir, desist
The agravation of your sad report; [_Weepe_
Ive to much greife already.
_Tho_. It becomes you:
You do appeare more glorious in these t[ears]
Then the red morne when she adornes her cheeks
With _Nabathean_ pearls: in such a posture
Stand _Phaetons_ sisters when they doe distill
Their much prisd amber. Madam, but resume
Your banishd reason to you, and consider
How many Iliads of preposterous mischeife
From your intemperate breach of faith to me
Fetch their loathed essence; thinke but on the love,
The holy love I bore you, that we two
--Had you bin constant--might have taught the wor[ld]
Affections primitive purenes; when, from
Your abrogation of it, Bonvills death,
Your daughter['s] losse have luc[k]lessly insu'd.
The streame that, like a Crocodile, did weepe
Ore them whom with an over ravenous kisse
Its moyst lips stifled, will record your fault
In watery characters as lastingly
As iff twere cut in marble. Heaven, forgive you;
Ile pray for you; repent.
[_Exeunt Thorowgood and Grimes_.
_Grimes_. O, my deare Master!
_Lady_. Repent! should I but spend
The weakest accent of my breath in sighes
Or vaine compunction, I should feare I sinnd
Against my will, then which I doe confes
Noe other diety. Passions[120] doe surround
My intellectual powers; only my heart,
Like to a Rocky Island, does advance
Above the foming violence of the waves
Its unmovd head, bids me my fate outdare.
Ills sure prevention is a swift despaire.
[_Exit_.
([SCENE] 2.)
_Enter Alexander and Young Marlowe_.
_Alex_. Thinke, sir, to whome the Iniury was don,--go to--your Lady
Mother, a vertuous lady, I say and I sayt agen, a very vertuous lady.
Had I but youth and strength as you have, in what cause should I sooner
hazard both then in this?
_Y. M_. Murder, my friend!
_Alex_. Noe, tis doing sacrifice to slaunderd goodnes.
_Y. M_. Rob my beloved Sister of a husband!
_Alex_. Yes, to redeeme to your mother her lost honour.
_Y. M_. Art not a Divell?
_Alex_. Ha!
_Y. M_. Thy breath has blasted me.
_Alex_. I must confes indeed I have eaten garlicke.
_Y. M_. All pious thoughts that lately fild this spheare
Are scatterd with the winds that issu'd from thee,
Which, like the infectious yawning of a hill,
Belching forth death inevitable,
Has distroyd freindship and nature in me.
Thou canst not poyson worse: I can feed now,
Feed and nere burst with mallice. Sing, Syren, sing
And swell me with revenge sweet as the straines
Falls from the _Thrasian_ lyre; charme each sence
With musick of Revenge, let Innocence
In softest tunes like the expiring Swann
Dy singing her owne Epitaph.
_Alex_. What meane you, sir? are you mad? goe to and goe to; you doe not
use me well; I say and I say, you do not. Have I this for my love to you
and your good Mother? Why, I might be your Father by my age, which is
falne on me in my old Mrs service; he would have used me better.
_Y. M_. Dost weepe, old Crocodile? looke dost see this sword.
_Alex_. Oh, I beseech you, sir; goe to; what meane you?
_Y. M_. No harme to thee; this was my Fathers once,
My honord Father; this did never view
The glaring Sunn but in a noble cause,
And then returnd home blushing with red spoyles,
Which sung his fame and conquest. Goe, intreat
My Mother be as pleasant as she was
That night my Father got me. I am going, say,
Most cheerfully to finish her comaund.
_Alex_. Heaven prosper you. Ha!
_Enter Thurston_.
_Thu_. Freind, I was looking for you.
_Y. M_. And you have found me, Villaine.
_Thu_. What meane you?
_Y. M_. If thou darst follow me I will conduct thee
Unto the seate of death.
_Thu_. Dare! Ile goe with thee, hand in hand; goe on.
[_Exeunt ambo_.
_Alex_. Goe, goe to and goe to, I say and I sait; here wilbe some
revenge. If the Gent[leman] fall my lady has promist me a farme of
100 pounds a yeare; goe to, then. Now, if her sonn be slayne, heres
then this purse of gold and this rich Jewell which she sent to him.
By this wee see, whoever has the worst,
The fox fares well, but better when hees curst.[121]
Goe to and goe to then.
[_Exit_.
_Actus Quintus_.
(SCENE 1.)
_Enter Lady Marlowe sola_.
_Lady_. Twas[122] here about; these are the poplars, this
The yewe he named. How prettily thees trees
Bow, as each meant to Consecrate a branch
To the drownd lovers! and, methinks, the streame
Pitt[y]ing their herse should want all funerall rights,
Snatches the virgin lillies from his bankes
To strow their watry sepulcher. Who would
Desire an easier wafting to their death
Then through this River? what a pleasing sound
Its liquid fingers, harping on the stones,
Yeilds to th'admiring eare!
_Enter Thorowgood, Clariana, and Magdalen_.
_Mag_. This way she went, Ime sure. She has deliv[er']d
So many strang distractions that I feare
Sheele act some wilfull violence on her selfe
If we prevent it not.
_Cla_. Yonder is somebody among the Trees
Hard by the River: alasse, tis shee!
_Tho_. Come softly; if she heare our footing, her disp[aire
May] anticipate our diligence.
_Lady_. Tempt me not, frailty: I disdaine revolt
From ought the awfull violence of my will
Has once[123] determind. Dost thou tremble, flesh?
Ile cure thy ague instantly: I shall,
Like some insatiate drunkard of the age,
But take a cup to much and next day sleepe
An hower more then ordinary.
_Tho_. Heaven and good Angells guard you!
_Cla_. My deare Mother!
_Mag_. My gratious Lady!
_Lady_. What inhumaine creatures
Are you that rob me of the priviledge
Of wellcome death, which I will run to meet
Spight of your malice!
_Tho_. Oh decline those thoughts;
Let not the lucid tapers of your soule,
Bright grace and reason, fondly be extinct.
Essentiall virtue, whether art thou fled,
To what unknowne place? wert thou hid mongst ro[cks]
Or horid grots where comfortable light
Hates to dispence its luster, yet my search
Should find thee out, reduce thee to this brest
Once[124] thy lovd Paradice. Pray, madam, pray:
From those faire eyes one penetentiall teare
Would force whole legions of heavens brightest Sa[ints]
If they have power to intercede for earth
To beg for mercy for you.
_Lady_. These are toyes
Forgd to delude mortality: let me die
And afterwards my uncontroled Ghost
Shall visitt you. I only goe and aske
How my _Belisia_ does enioy her health
Since she exchangd her native ayre of earth
For those dull regions. If I find the clime
Does to our constitutions promise life,
Ile come to you and in those happy shades
Will live in peace eternally.
[[125]_Cla_. Alas,
I feare shees Irrecoverable. Twas
Ill don to affright her thus.
_Mag_. Expect the best:
The Gentleman will perswade her.
_Tho_. O, dispaire,
Grimme homicide of soules, how thou involvst
More haplesse creatures in distracted Ills
Ore [w]home thou triumpst; but Ile fright thee hence:
No feind shall add a trophy to thy acts
For victory over her.] Deare madam, heare me:
You had a noble husband, while he livd;
And I beleive
That no perswasion cold have forcd you yeild
To vitiation of his honord bed,
Not with a prince. And will you give your soule,
Which heaven in its creation had designd
A bride to faire eternity of blisse,
By vild procurement of hells bawd, despaire,
To prostitution of unnaturall death
And then of woes erelasting which admit
Noe diminution? Can you heare this, Madam,
And does the flintie substance of your heart
Not thaw, like to a hill of _Russian_ Ice
When fires applid to't? Yes, your eyes demonstrate
It[126] melts already.
_Cla_. Deare Mother, please you walke
Into your Chamber: here the wind is cold
And may disease your weaknes.
_Mag_. Here is your vayle, and't please your ladiship.
_Lady_. Let me alone, you trouble me; I feele
A soddaine change; each organ of my soule
Suffers a strong vicissitude; and, though
I do detest a voluntary death,
My Conscience tells me that it is most iust
That the cursd author of such impious ills
Ought not to live.
_Tho_. O thinke not soe: those words
Retaine affinity with that passion
I hop'd youd left. The greatest of your Sinns
Mercy will smile at, when you doe implore
Its unconsuming grace: the dullest cloud
Will, when you pray, be active as the ayre
In opening to receive that breath to heaven
Thats spent to purge your ills. Why, you may live
To make a faire lustration for your faults
And die a happie Convert.
_[Ho]llow within_: Follow, follow, follow! that way he went.
_Enter Young Marlowe, Alexander, [Consta]ble and [office]rs_.
_Y. M_. Hell, I will flie no farther; since my hand
Is guilt in murder it shall sacrifice
Some of my apprehenders.
_Tho_. Whats the matter?
Deare Sir, what ayles you?
_Lady_. O my Sonne! I feare.
_Alex_. Stand back, goe to; what meanes this rudenes.
I say goe to, keepe back.
_Con_. Sir, we must enter: here he is. I charge you
Asist us to lay hold on him.
_Lady_. Why, how now,
Fellowes? what makes you presse in here thus rudely?
Whom do you follow?
_Con_. Madam, Ime sorry my authority
Enforces me to doe it: your sonn iust now
Has slaine one Mr. _Thurstone_, and the law
Commaunds us apprehend him.
_Y. M_. Here take my sword:
When I but doe waigh the iustnes of the cause
For which I suffer, though I could escape,
My Conscience would forbid me. Come, Ile goe
Whither you please.
_Lady_. Stay, officers; all accessaries are
As liable to punishment for murder
As those who act it. I confesse twas I
Enforcd my son to slay that gentleman.
Your warrant extends to take me with him.
_Tho_. Alas, beleive her not; greife for her sonne
Has made her franticke.
_Lady_. By heaven tis truth!
If you refuse to execute your office
I shall confesse my act unto the Judg
And soe condemne you of partiality.
My Sonn knowes this is truth.
_Y. M_. I must acknowledge
Mr. _Alexander_ oft did instigate me
To kill him.
_Con_. Sir, you must clere your selfe of this.
_Alex_. Who? I? Goe, take the babe from its Mothers teat and taxe him
with this crime. I accessary to a murder! goe to.
_Con_. Why, and goe to, sir, and avoid resistance;
You must goe. Will your ladiship walke with us?
_Lady_. Yes, most willingly.
I doe this most abhorrid life despise
Since tis to iustice a iust sacrifice.
[_Exeunt omnes_.
(SCENE 2.)
_A Table: Enter Judge,[127] Sir Geffery, Crackbie,
Suckett, and Bunch_.
_Sir Hu_. I doe admire this accident: since I have sat Judge I have not
knowne any such tryall.
_Sir Gef_. Tis certaine, sir; but looke you, sir, Ile tell you. You do
perceive me sir: as Ime a gentleman I lov'd the lady; but she, out of
her pride, I thinke, or else I were to b[lame] to say soe, scornd me.
Marke you that, sir? understand you that?
_Sir Hu_. You question my understanding very much, good Sir
_Geffe[rey]_. But pray you, sir, being here more conversant then I,
c[ould] you informe me how this quarrell grew twixt her [and Mr.]
_Thurston_?
_Sir Gef_. Yes, yes, I can;--but let me see, I have almost forgott;
to say truth, I never heard the reason, but as the wisest guess--hum,
hum--he should have had her daughter.
_Crac_. I might have had her my self, you know, uncle.
_Sir Gef_. Peace, Nephew, peace, give Justice leave to speake.--As I
related, the reason I related, Sir, was as I told you.
_Sir Hu_. You told me nothing yet, Sir _Geffery_.
_Sir Gef_. Noe? did I not say he should have had her daughter?
_Sir Hu_. You did; but what does that conduce to their dissention?
_Sir Gef_. Oh sir, the originall efficient cause,--you understand me?
for suspition whispers he had given her a foule blow and would have left
her.
_Crac_. Nay, by my birthright, uncle, the child was not his alone, for I
dare sweare I had a hand at least in it. I did endevor fort, did I not,
Captaine?
_Suc_. Yes, there are others to as well as you; yes, she has struck her
top sayle to a man of warr; she has bin boarded, sir, I can assure you.
_Sir Hu_. What impudent slaves are these!--But are you sure the
gentlewoman is with child?
_Sir Gef_. Sure? doe you question it, Sir? _Bunch_, be ready, _Bunch_,
to write their confessions quickly.
_Bunch_. They are not come yet to confession, sir.
_Sir Gef_. Noe matter for that, _Bunch_; with the Judges leave weele
here their confession before they come, that we may know the better to
state the cause when they doe come. Ist not best, thinke you?
_Sir Hu_. Who shall speake for them, thinke you?
_Sir Gef_. No matter whether any man speake nor noe: we know he killed
the man, and she comanded him, ergo they are guilty; ergoe that must be
their confession, scilicet that they are guilty. Write this, _Bunch_,
and then we will perpend, as law and Judgment guides us, whether we will
save or condemne. How say you, sir?
_Crac_. Oh well don, uncle! I knew[128] he would prove what he said,
otherwise I would have venturd a sillogisme in Baraly[p]ton to have made
it evident.
[_Suc_.[129] But with your favour, gentlemen; suppose he did unlive
_Thurston_ in faire duell?
_Sir Hu_. No duell can be fayre, cause tis against
The kingdomes lawes.
_Suc_. The kingdomes lawes! how shall
A Gent[leman] that has a blemish cast
Upon his life, faire reputac[i]on,
Have satisfaction then? allow no duells!
Hel! a man of armes had better live in woods
And combate wolves then among such milke sops.
The kingdomes lawes!
_Crac_. Patience, good Captaine; we will have duells lawful.
_Suc_. Tis fit they should, being legitimacy managd, sir.]
_Enter Constable and Prisoners_.
_Sir Gef_. O, soe; are you come? weele tickle you ifaith.
_Con_. Soe please you, heare are the prisoners.
_Sir Hu_. Tis well, we have waited them. Madam,
I should have bin more fortunate to have scene you
In any place but this; and here,
In any other cause then this, I would use you
As the precedent carridge of your life
Has merited, but cannot: y'are a prisoner
Convict of murder, a most hideous crime
Gainst law and nature.
_Sir Gef_. Yes, marry is it, and that she shall find ere we have don.
_Bunch_, read their indictments, _Bunch_. She had as good have married
me, I warrant her.
_Sir Hu_. Good Sir _Geffrey_, silence a while. Who is the accuser?
_Con_. Here.
_Sir Hu_. What have you, freind, to object against this lady?
_Con_. That she confesd it was by her procurement and comaunde her sonn
murderd young _Thurston_.
_Lady_. Please you, sir, that a poore prisoner may entreate one favour.
_Sir Gef_. Yes, you shall have favour!
_Sir Hu_. Any thing mercy can graunt unpreiudiciall to Iustice.
_Lady_. Then this:
You shall not need to produce witnesses
Or charge a Iury to designe me guilty
Of _Thurstons_ murder. I confess it to you,
Twas only I that slew him.
_Sir Gef_. Marke that, Sir: shee that slew him! do you hear?
_Sir Hu_. Pray disturbe her not.--How comes it then, Madam, to be
affirmd your Sonn did kill him?
_Sir Gef_. I, lets heare that, how it comes: well remembred, you did
even speake before me.
_Crac_. O how learnedly could I speake now, might I have licence!
_Lady_. Pray, Sir,
Let me not be oppresd with noyse; my cause
Beares not so slender waight. For my owne life,
So many reasons forfeit it to death
That 'twere a Sinn, had I a will to live,
To plead to save it; but for this my sonn
I do beseech a hearing.
_Sir Hu_. Speake freely, lady.
_Lady_. Thus then:
Suppose the wrested rigor of your lawes
Uniustly sentenc'd any here to death,
And you enforce on some unwilling man
The present execution of your act,
You will not after cause the instrument
Of your decree, as guilty of his blood,
To suffer as a Homicide: how then
Can your impartiall Judgment
Censure my sonn for this which was my fact?
_Thurston_ the malice of my will wishd dead:
My instigation and severe comaund
Compeld him to atcheiv't, and you will graunt
Noe princes lawes retaine more active force
To ingage a subiect to performe their hests
Then natures does astring a dewtious child
To obey his parent.
_Sir Gef_. Pish, all this is nothing: there is a flat statute against
it,--let me see,--in Anno vigessimo tricessimo, Henerio octavo be it
enacted,--what followes, _Bunch_?
_Sir Hu_. Nay, good Sir, peace--
Madam, these are but wild evasions
For times protraction; for your paritie,
It cannot hold; since Nature does enforce
Noe child to obey his parent in an act
That is not good and iust.
_Lady_. Why, this seemd both
To his obedience; but relinquish that
And come to Conscience: does it not comaund
In its strict Canons to exact no more
Then blood for blood, unlesse you doe extort
Worse then an usurer. For _Thurstons_ life
I offer myne, which if it be to meane
To appease your Justice, let it satisfie
Your mercie. Spare my Sonn and I shall goe
As willingly to death as to my rest
After a painfull child birthe. Looke on him!
How fitt the subiect is to invite your pittie!
What Tyrant hand would cut this Cedar up
Ere its full groath (at which it stately head
Would give a shade to heaven), or pluck this Rose
As yet scarce blossomd?
_Sir Gef_. Hum, what says _Bunch_?
_Lady_. Mercy wilbe proud
T'infold him gently in her Ivory armes,
And, as she walkes along with him, each word
He speakes sheele greedily catch at with a kisse
From his soft lipps such as the amorous Fawnes
Enforce on the light Satyrs. Let[130] me dy
Who, like the palme, when consious that tis void
Of fruite and moysture, prostratly doe begg
A Charitable headsman.
_Sir Hu_. So bad a cause
Deserves not to be pleaded thus. Deere madam,
Greife overwhelmes me for you, that your guilt
Has damp'd the eyes of mercy and undone
All intercession. Please you desist:
We must proceed to th'examination
Of the other prisoners.--
Sir _Geffrey_, we shall need your grave assistance:
Sir _Geffrey_, be more attentive.
_Sir Gef_. Tis very necessary. I wilbe sworne she did bewitch me; I
thinke I was almost asleepe. But now to yee, I faith; come on, what can
you say that Judgment shall not passe against you?
_Tho_. Sir, you are the Judge here?
_Sir Hu_. Yes, sir, why question you my power?
_Tho_. Noe, scarlett man, I question thy witt,
At least thy Humanity and the Conscience
That dares imagine to destroy this wealth,
To hang this matchless diamond in the eare
Of _Ethiope_ Death. Send him to file thy house,
Strike with his dart thy Children and thy selfe,
Gray bearded miscreant, whose best acts compard
With _Thurstons_ murder (cause this lady did [it])
Are full iniquity.
[_Suc_.[131] The man speaks home and boldly.]
_Sir Hu_. Sir, you are fitter for a Jayle, a Bedlam,
Then to stand free before us.
What? art thou mad, man?
_Sir Gef_. Yes, what are you, Sir. I aske to, though
I know y[ou well] enough. What are you?
_Tho_. I am one,
To expresse my selfe in my true character,
Soe full of civill reason and iust truth
That to denie my owne peculiar act
I should esteeme as base and black a sinne
As _Scythians_[132] doe adultery: twas I
That gave this lady councell to invade
That _Thurstons_ life, and out of cowardise,
Feareing my person, set this bold young man
To be his murderer. Ime the principall,
The very source from whence this brooke of bloode
Fetches its spring.
_Sir Hu_. Still more of the conspiracy! Sir, what say
You to these designements?
_Suc_. Say, sir, you slew the man in equall duell:
Twill bring you off, I warrant you.
_Sir Gef_. Answere, you youth of valour, you that dare
See men of credit bleede. Ha!
_Y. M_. Sir, I am to dy, and should I now speake false
Twould be a maine addicon to the ill
What I alone comitted: for this man,
Howsoere his fury does transport his tongue,
Hees guiltlesse on't: I must confesse my Mother
Did, for some private wrong which he had don,
Wish me to call him to account; but this
Steward did with all violence sollicit
That I should slay him.
_Alex_. Whoe? I? goe to; ist come to this?
_Sir Hu_. Sir, you must answer this.
_Sir Gef_. Marke how the mischeife lookes.
_Alex_. I doe defie thy mallice, thou falce Judge.
Goe to; my [Mrs.] I appeal to, she that knowes my vertue and Integrity.
_Sir Hu_. Away with him toth Jayle: a publique Sessions may [ere] long
from thence deliver him to the gallowes.
_Const_. Come, Sir.
[_Exeunt Const, and Alex_.
_Sir Hu_. Madam, for you and for your Sonn, your crimes
Being soe manifest, I wish you would
Prepare your selves for heaven. Meantime you must remaine
Saffe prissoners untill the Judges sitt,
Who best may give a sentence on your fact.
_Tho_. And what for me?
_Sir Gef_. I, what for him, Mr Justice?
_Sir Hu_. Sure your words
Rather proceed from some distraction
Then from similitude of truth. You may
Begon, we do quitt you.
_Tho_. And Ile quit my selfe
Of what you will not, [of] my hated life.
You have condemnd a lady who may claime
As many slaves to wait on her in death
As the most superstitious _Indian_ prince
(That carries servants to attend ith grave)
Can by's prerogative; nor shall she want
Waiters, while you and I, my reverend Judg,
Are within reach of one another.
[_Offers att the Record_.
_Suc_. Death, Sir!
Dare you presume to draw before us men
Of stout performance?
_Sir Gef_. You sir, weele have you hangd to, sir, with the Steward.
_Sir Hu_. We doe forgive him; twas his passion.
Tis manly to forbeare infirmities
In noble soules.
Away with the delinquents, officers![133]
_Sir Gef_.[134] I charge you looke to them: there is
some rescue intended, I warrant you.
_Con_. Sir, yonder are some six or seaven without,
Attird like Masquers, that will not be denied
Admittance.
_Sir Hu_. What are they?
_Con_. [Faith[135]] we know not,
Nor will they tell us, only this they say:
Heareing of the lady _Marlowe's_ condemnation,
They are come
With shew of death to make her more prepard fort.
_Sir Hu_. We will deny none of her freinds to see her;
They can intend noe rescue.
_Con_. Noe, my life ont, sir: they come unarm'd.
_Sir Hu_. Be still; letts see this misterie.
_Florish, Horrid Musike. Enter Death, Gri., and Furies_.
_Gri_. If in charnell houses, Caves,
Horrid grots and mossie graves,
Where the mandraks hideous howles
Welcome bodies voide of soules,
My power extends, why may not I
Hugg those who are condemd to dy?
Grimme _Dispaire_, arise and bring
_Horror_ with thee and the king
Of our dull regions; bid the rest
Of your Society be addrest,
As they feare the frowne of chaunce,
To grace this presense with a daunce.
_Recorders. Enter Hymen and the Lovers_.
_Tim_. _Death_, avaunt! thou hast no power;
This is _Hymens_ happie hower.
Away to the dark shades! hence!
And, grim _Dispaire_, let _Innocence_
Triumph, and bring eternall peace
To all your soules and Joys increase.
Smile, smile, sweet ayre, on us that come
To sing _Deaths_ Epicedium.
Extract from roses gentlest winds,
Such odors as young _Hymen_ finds
At sweet _Arabian_ nuptialls; let
The youthfull graces here beget
Soe smooth a peace that every breath
May blesse this marriage of _Death_.
Feare nothing, lady, whose bright eye
Sing'd _Deaths_ wings as he flew by:
Wee therefore, trust me, only come
To sing _Deaths_ Epicedium. [_discover_,
_Tim_. Stay, stay, by your leave Mr. Justice.--
Madam,[136] your servant _Timothy_ brings you newes
You must not dy. Know you this Gentleman?
_Sir Gef_. Now, on my knighthood, Mr. _Thurston_.
_Lady_. Amazement leave me: is he living?
_Sir Hu_. Are we deluded?
_Tim_. So it appeares, Sir: the gent[leman] never had hurt; hees here,
and let him speake for himselfe and this gentlewoman his wife.
_Lady_. Who? _Clariana_?
_Thu_. With your leave, reverend father.--To you, Madam,
Whome I must now call Mother, first your pardon
That the conceivd report of my faind death
Has brought you to this triall: next
For this your daughter and your sonn, whose virtues
Redeemd [me] from the death your rage had thought
I should have suffred, he agreeing with me
Consented to appeach himselfe of that
He nere intended, and procurd this man
As his accuser of my murder, which
Was but contrivd to let you see the error
Of your sterne malice; that, acquainted with
The foulenesse of the fact, by the effect
You might repent it and bestow your blessing
On us your Suppliant Children.
_Cla_. Which we beg
With hearty sorrow, if we have transgresd
Our duty to you.
_Sir Hu_. I am happie to see so blesd a period.
_Sir Gef_. Ha, ha, widdow, are you come of thus, widdow? You may thanke
me: I hope youle have me now, widdow.
_Lady_. This soddaine comfort,
Had I not yet a relique left of greife,
Would like a violent torrent overbeare
The banks of my mortallity. Oh, _Thurston_,
Whom I respect with a more sacred love
Then was my former; take my blessing with her
And all the wishes that a ioyfull mother
Can to a child devote: had my _Belisia_
And her deare _Bonvill_ livd, this happy day
Should have beheld a double wedding.
[_Suc_.[137] Death, must he have her then?]
_Sir Hu_. Spoake like a mother.
_Tho_. Madam,
The surplusage of love that's in my breast
Must needs have vent in gratulation
Of your full ioyes. Would you mind your promise,
And make me fortunate in your love!
_Lady_. Sir, I have vowd,
Since by my meanes my daughter and her love
Perishd unhappily, to seclude my selfe
From mans Society.
[_Bonvil, Belisia, and Grimes discover_.
_Tho_. Weele cancell
That obligation quickly.--Lady, I now
Will urge your promise: twas a plot betwixt us
To give them out for drownd, least your pursuite
Should have impeachd their marriage, which is now
Most iustly consummate; and[138] only I
Remaine at your devotion for a wife.
_Lady_. Take her,
And with me a repentance as profound
As Anchorites for their sin pay.
_Sir Hu_. Madam, how blest am I
To see you thus past hope recovered,
My mirth at your faire wedding shall demonstrate.
_Sir Gef_. I will daunce too, that[s] certain, though
I breake my legs or get the tissick.
[_Suc_.[139] Doe you know me, Sir?
_Bon_. Yes, very well, sir.
_Suc_. You are married, sir.
_Bon_. I, what of that?
_Suc_. Nothing, but send you Joy, sir?]
_Lady_. But where's my Steward? hees not hangd I hope:
This mirth admits no Tragedy.
_Gri_. Behold the figure.
_Alex_. I crave forgivenesse.
_Lady_. Goe to, you have it.
_Alex_. Thanke you, madam,--I, I will goe to and goe to, and there be
ere a wench to be got for love or money, rath[er] then plot murder: tis
the sweeter sinn of [the two]; besides, theres noe danger of ones cragg;
[the] worst is but stand in one sheet for ly[ing] in two: and therefore
goe to and goe to, I [say] and I sayt agen.
_Sir Gef_. _Bunch_ take my cloake, _Bunch_; it shal [not] be sed, so
many weddings and nere a Da[nce]: for soe many good turnes the hangman
ha done you, theres one for all, hey!
_Tho_. Well said, Sir _Geffrey_.
_Sir Gef_. Hey, when I was young! but come, we loose [time]: every one
his lasse, and stricke up Musick!
_Daunce_.
_Lady_. Now, gentlemen, my thanks to all, and since
[I]t is my good hap to escape these ills,
Goe in with me and celebrate this feast
With choyse solemnitie; where our discourse
Shall merrily forgett these harmes, and prove
Theres no Arraingment like to that of love.
[_Exeunt omnes_.
FINIS.
_This Play, call'd the Lady Moth[er] (the Reformacons observ'd) may be
acted. October the xvth_, 1635.
WILL. BLAGRAVE, _Dept. to the [Master] of the Revell[s]_.
INTRODUCTION TO THE TRAGEDY OF SIR JOHN VAN OLDEN BARNAVELT.
I have never met anywhere with the slightest allusion to this fine
historical play, now for the first time printed from a MS.[140] in the
British Museum (Add. MS. 18,653). It is curious that it should have been
left to the present editor to call attention to a piece of such
extraordinary interest; for I have no hesitation in predicting that
Barnavelt's Tragedy, for its splendid command of fiery dramatic
rhetoric, will rank among the masterpieces of English dramatic
literature.
On a first rapid inspection I assumed, with most uncritical
recklessness, that Chapman was the author. There are not wanting points
of general resemblance between Chapman's Byron and the imperious,
unbending spirit of the great Advocate as he is here represented; but in
diction and versification, the present tragedy is wholly different from
any work of Chapman's. When I came to transcribe the piece, I soon
became convinced that it was to a great extent the production of
Fletcher. There can, I think, be no reasonable doubt about the
authorship of such lines as the following:--
"_Barnavelt_. My noble Lords, what is't appeares upon me
So ougly strange you start and fly my companie?
What plague sore have ye spide, what taynt in honour,
What ill howre in my life so cleere deserving
That rancks in this below your fellowships?
For which of all my cares, of all my watches,
My services (too many and too mightie
To find rewards) am I thus recompenced,
Not lookd on, not saluted, left forgotten
Like one that came to petition to your honours--
Over the shoulder slighted?
_Bredero_. Mounsieur _Barnavelt_,
I am sorry that a man of your great wisdom
And those rare parts that make ye lov'd and honourd,
In every Princes Court highly esteemd of,
Should loose so much in point of good and vertue
Now in the time you ought to fix your faith fast,
The credit of your age, carelessly loose it,--
dare not say ambitiously,--that your best friends
And those that ever thought on your example
Dare not with comon safetie now salute ye" (iii. 1).
Such a verse as,--
"In every Princes Court highly esteemd of,"
or,--
"Now in the time you ought to fix your faith fast,"
can belong only to Fletcher. The swelling, accumulative character of the
eloquence is another proof; for Fletcher's effects are gained not by a
few sharp strokes, but by constant iteration, each succeeding line
strengthening the preceding until at last we are fronted by a column of
very formidable strength. Let us take another extract from the same
scene:--
"_Barnavelt_. When I am a Sychophant
And a base gleaner from an others favour,
As all you are that halt upon his crutches,--
Shame take that smoothness and that sleeke subjection!
I am myself, as great in good as he is,
As much a master of my Countries fortunes,
And one to whom (since I am forc'd to speak it,
Since mine own tongue must be my Advocate)
This blinded State that plaies at boa-peep with us,
This wanton State that's weary of hir lovers
And cryes out 'Give me younger still and fresher'!
Is bound and so far bound: I found hir naked,
Floung out a dores and starvd, no friends to pitty hir,
The marks of all hir miseries upon hir,
An orphan State that no eye smild upon:
And then how carefully I undertooke hir,
How tenderly and lovingly I noursd hir!
But now she is fatt and faire againe and I foold,
A new love in hir armes, my doatings scornd at.
And I must sue to him! be witnes, heaven,
If this poore life were forfeyt to his mercy,
At such a rate I hold a scornd subjection
I would not give a penney to redeeme it.
I have liv'd ever free, onely depended
Upon the honestie of my faire Actions,
Nor am I now to studdy how to die soe."
The whole scene is singularly fine and impressive; it shows us Fletcher
at his highest.
But in other passages we find a second hand at work. In the second scene
of the third act there is far less exuberance of language and a
different style of versification, as may be seen in the following
lines:--
"_Orange_. My grave Lords,
That it hath byn my happines to take in,
And with so little blood, so many Townes
That were falne off, is a large recompence
For all my travell; and I would advise
That (since all now sing the sweet tunes of Concord,
No Sword unsheathd, the meanes to hurt cut off
And all their stings pluckd out that would have usd them
Against the publique peace) we should end here
And not with labour search for that which will
Afflict us when 'tis found. Something I know
That I could wish I nere had understood,
Which yet if I should speake, as the respect
And duty that I owe my Country bids me,
It wilbe thought 'tis rather privat spleene
Then pious zeale. But that is not the hazard
Which I would shun: I rather feare the men
We must offend in this, being great, rich, wise,
Sided with strong friends, trusted with the guard
Of places most important, will bring forth
Rather new births of tumult, should they be
Calld to their Triall, then appease disorder
In their just punishment; and in doing Justice
On three or four that are delinquents, loose
So many thousand inocents that stand firme
And faithfull patriots. Let us leave them therefore
To the scourge of their owne consciences: perhaps
Th'assurance that they are yet undiscoverd,
Because not cyted to their answeare, will
So work with them hereafter to doe well
That we shall joy we sought no farther in it."
Here we have vigorous writing, staid and grave and unimpassioned, and a
more regular metre. In determining questions of authorship I have so
often found myself (and others, too) at fault, that I shrink from
adopting the dictatorial tone assumed in these matters by learned
Germans and a few English scholars. But I think in the present instance
we may speak with tolerable certainty. Before my mind had been made up,
my good friend, Mr. Fleay, pronounced strongly in favour of Massinger.
He is, I think, right; in fact, it is beyond the shadow of a doubt that
Massinger wrote the speech quoted above. In all Massinger's work there
is admirable ease and dignity; if his words are seldom bathed in tears
or steeped in fire, yet he never writes beneath his subject. He had a
rare command of an excellent work-a-day dramatic style, clear, vigorous,
free from conceit and affectation. But he is apt to grow didactic, and
tax the reader's patience; and there is often a want of coherence in his
sentences, which amble down the page in a series of loosely-linked
clauses. I will not examine scene by scene in detail; for I must frankly
confess that I feel myself sometimes at a loss to determine whether a
particular passage is by Fletcher or Massinger. Most of the impassioned
parts belong, I think, to the former. I would credit Massinger with the
admirably conducted trial-scene in the fourth act; but the concluding
scene of the play, where Barnavelt is led to execution, I would ascribe,
without hesitation, to Fletcher. In the scene (v. 1) where the French
ambassador pleads for Barnavelt we recognise Massinger's accustomed
temperance and dignity. To the graver writer, too, we must set down
Leydenberg's solemn and pathetic soliloquy (iii. 6), when by a voluntary
death he is seeking to make amends for his inconstancy and escape from
the toils of his persecutors.
There is no difficulty in fixing the date of the present play. Barneveld
was executed on May 13, 1619, and the play must have been written
immediately afterwards, when all Christendom was ringing with the news
of the execution. In the third scene of the first act there is a
marginal note signed "G.B." The initials are unquestionably those of Sir
George Buc, Master of the Revels from 1610 to 1622.[141] On comparing
the note with an autograph letter[142] of Sir George's I find the
hand-writing to correspond exactly. The date, therefore, cannot be later
than 1622, but the probability is that the play was produced at
Michaelmas, 1619.
In our own day the great Advocate's fame, which had been allowed to fall
into neglect, has been revived with splendour by Mr. Motley, whose "Life
of John of Barneveld" is a monument _aere perennius_ of loving labour,
masterful grasp, and rare eloquence. Had the dramatists been in
possession of a tithe of the facts brought to light from mouldering
state documents by the historian, they would have regarded Barneveld's
faults with a milder eye, and shown more unqualified praise for his
great and noble qualities. But they are to be commended in that they saw
partially through the mists of popular error and prejudice; that they
refused to accept a caricature portrait, and proclaimed in unmistakable
accents the nobility of the fallen Advocate. Perhaps it is not so
strange that this tragedy dropped from sight. Its representation
certainly could not have been pleasing to King James; for that
murderous, slobbering, detestable villain had been untiring in his
efforts to bring about Barneveld's ruin.
Throughout the play there are marks of close political observation. To
discover the materials from which the playwrights worked up their solid
and elaborate tragedy would require a more extensive investigation than
I care to undertake. An account of Barneveld's trial, defence, and
execution may be found in the following tracts:--
([Greek: alpha]) "Barnavel's Apologie, or Holland's Mysteria: with
marginall Castigations, 1618." The Apology, originally written in Dutch,
had been translated into Latin, and thence into English. The
Castigations, by "Robert Houlderus, Minister of the Word of God," are
remarkable, even in the annals of theological controversy, for gross
blackguardism. After indulging in the most loathsome displays of foul
brutality, this "Minister of the Word of God" ends with the cheerful
prayer,--"That they whom Thou hast predestinated to salvation may
alwayes have the upper hand and triumph in the certainty of their
salvation: but they whom Thou has created unto confusion, and as vessels
of Thy just wrath, may tumble and be thrust headlong thither whereto
from all eternitie Thou didst predestinate them, even before they had
done any good or evil."
([Greek: beta]) "Newes out of Holland: concerning Barnavelt and his
fellow-Prisoners, their Conspiracy against their Native Country with the
enemies thereof: The Oration and Propositions made in their behalfe unto
the Generall States of the United Provinces at the Hage, by the
Ambassadours of the French King," &c., 1619.
([Greek: gamma]) "The Arraignment of John Van Olden Barnavelt, late
Advocate of Holland and West Freisland. Containing the articles
alleadged against him and the reasons of his execution," &c., 1619.
* * * * *
"This magnificent play is mainly the production of Fletcher and
Massinger: it must have been written between May, 1619, and May, 1622,
for the King's company acting at Blackfriars. T[homas] Hol[combe] acted
a woman's part in it: so did G. Lowin, perhaps a son of John Lowin,
unless indeed G. is a miswriting for J., as sometimes happens. It is
singular that one has no knowledge whatever of Thomas Holcombe, except
as an actor in Fletcher's plays: although so many of the lists of the
king's men of that date have come down to us. Mr. Gough who took the
part of Leidenberg, is Robert Gough, not Alexander: the latter acted
only in Charles I.'s time. Another actor, Michael, is unknown: probably
a super."--F.G. FLEAY.
Since the above paragraph was written, I have found in the MS. the names
of three more actors, Jo[hn] Rice, Bir[ch], and T[homas] Po[llard]. The
following note, for which I am indebted to Mr. Fleay, will be read with
interest:--"It is noticeable that a play called the Jeweller of
Amsterdam or the Hague, by John Fletcher, Nathaniel Field, and Phillip
Massinger, was entered on the Stationers' Books 8th April, 1654, but not
printed. This play must have been written between 1617 and 1619, while
Field was connected with the King's company, and undoubtedly referred to
the murder of John Van Wely, the Jeweller of Amsterdam, by John of
Paris, the confidential groom of Prince Maurice, in 1619. It is _primâ
facie_ likely that the same authors would be employed on both plays.
Field, Daborne, Dekker and Fletcher are the only authors known to have
written in conjunction with Massinger; and Dekker and Daborne are out of
the question for that company at that date. We are now enabled to fix
the date of the 'Fatal Dowry,' by Field and Massinger, as c. 1618."
THE TRAGEDY OF SIR JOHN VAN OLDEN BARNAVELT.
Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt.
_Actus Primus_.
SCAENA PRIMA.
_Enter Barnavelt, Modes-bargen, Leidenberck, and Grotius_.
_Bar_. The Prince of _Orange_ now, all names are lost els!
That hees alone the Father of his Cuntrie!
Said you not so?
_Leid_. I speake the peoples Language.
_Bar_. That to his arme and sword the Provinces owe
Their flourishing peace? that hees the armyes soule
By which it moves to victorie?
_Mod_. So 'tis said, Sir.
_Leid_. Nay, more; that without him dispaire and ruyn
Had ceazd on all and buried quick our safeties.
_Gro_. That had not he in act betterd our counsailes
And in his execution set them off,
All we designd had ben but as a tale
Forgot as soone as told.
_Leid_. And with such zeale
This is deliverd that the Prince beleeves it;
For Greatnes, in her owne worth confident,
Doth never waigh but with a covetous hand
His lightest meritts, and who add to the scale
Seldom offend.
_Gro_. 'Tis this that swells his pride
Beyond those lymitts his late modestie
Ever observd. This makes him count the Soldier
As his owne creature, and to arrogate
All prosperous proceedings to himself;
Detracts from you and all men, you scarce holding
The second place.
_Bar_. When I gave him the first:
I robd myself, for it was justly mine.
The labourinthes of pollicie I have trod
To find the clew of safetie, for my Cuntrie
Requird a head more knowing and a courage
As bold as his,--though I must say 'tis great.
His stile of Excellencie was my guift;
Money, the strength and fortune of the war,
The help of _England_ and the aide of _Fraance_,
I only can call mine: and shall I then,
Now in the sun-set of my daie of honour,
When I should passe with glory to my rest
And raise my Monument from my Cuntries praises,
Sitt downe and with a boorish patience suffer
The harvest that I labourd for to be
Anothers spoile? the peoples thancks and praises,
Which should make faire way for me to my grave,
To have another object? the choice fruites
Of my deepe projects grace anothers Banquet?
No; this ungratefull Cuntry, this base people,
Most base to my deserts, shall first with horrour
Know he that could defeat the _Spanish_ counsailes
And countermyne their dark works, he that made
The State what 'tis, will change it once againe
Ere fall with such dishonour.
_Mod_. Be advisd, Sir;
I love you as a friend, and as a wise man
Have ever honourd you: be as you were then,
And I am still the same. Had I not heard
Theis last distemperd words, I would have sworne
That in the making up of _Barnavelt_
Reason had only wrought, passion no hand in't.
But now I find you are lesse then a man,
Lesse then a common man, and end that race
You have so long run strongly like a child,
For such a one old age or honours surfeyts
Againe have made you.
_Bar_. This to me?
_Mod_. To you, Sir:
For is't not boyish folly (youthfull heat
I cannot call it) to spume downe what all
His life hath labourd for? Shall _Barnavelt_
That now should studie how to die, propound
New waies to get a name? or keep a being
A month or two to ruyn whatsoever
The good succes of forty yeeres employment
In the most serious affaires of State
Have raisd up to his memory? And for what?
Glory, the popular applause,--fine purchase
For a gray beard to deale in!
_Gro_. You offend him.
_Mod_. 'Tis better then to flatter him as you doe.
Be but yourself againe and then consider
What alteration in the State can be
By which you shall not loose. Should you bring in
(As heaven avert the purpose and the thought
Of such a mischief) the old Tirrany
That _Spaine_ hath practisd, do you thinck you should be
Or greater then you are or more secure
From danger? Would you change the goverment,
Make it a Monarchie? Suppose this don
And any man you favourd most set up,
Shall your authoritie by him encrease?
Be not so foolishly seducd; for what
Can hope propose to you in any change
Which ev'n now you posses not?
_Bar_. Doe not measure
My ends by yours.
_Mod_. I know not what you ayme at.
For thirtie yeeres (onely the name of king
You have not had, and yet your absolute powre
Hath ben as ample) who hath ben employd
In office, goverment, or embassie,
Who raisd to wealth or honour that was not
Brought in by your allowaunce? Who hath held
His place without your lycence? Your estate is
Beyond a privat mans: your Brothers, Sonnes,
Frendes, Famylies, made rich in trust and honours:
Nay, this grave _Maurice_, this now Prince of _Orange_,
Whose popularitie you weakely envy,
Was still by you commaunded: for when did he
Enter the feild but 'twas by your allowaunce?
What service undertake which you approv'd not?
What victory was won in which you shard not?
What action of his renownd in which
Your counsaile was forgotten? Yf all this then
Suffice not your ambition but you must
Extend it further, I am sorry that
You give me cause to feare that when you move next
You move to your destruction.
_Bar_. Yf I fall
I shall not be alone, for in my ruyns
My Enemies shall find their Sepulchers.
_Modes-bargen_, though in place you are my equall,
The fire of honour, which is dead in you,
Burnes hotly in me, and I will preserve
Each glory I have got, with as much care
As I acheivd it. Read but ore the Stories
Of men most fam'd for courage or for counsaile.
And you shall find that the desire of glory
(That last infirmity of noble minds)
Was the last frailty wise men ere putt of:
Be they my presidents.
_Gro_. 'Tis like yourself,
Like _Barnavelt_, and in that all is spoken.
_Leid_. I can do something in the State of _Utrecht_,
And you shall find the place of Secretarie,
Which you conferd upon me there, shall be,
When you employ me, usefull.
_Gro_. All I am
You know you may commaund: Ile nere enquire
What 'tis you goe about, but trust your counsailes
As the Auncients did their Oracles.
_Mod_. Though I speak
Not as a flatterer, but a friend, propound
What may not prejudice the State, and I
Will goe as far as any.
_Enter 2 Captaines_.
_Bar_. To all my service:[143]
Ere long you shall know more.--What are theis?
_Leid_. Captaines
That raild upon the Comissary.
_Bar_. I remember.
1 _Cap_. Why, you dare charge a foe i'the head of his troope,
And shake you to deliver a petition
To a statesman and a frend?
2 _Cap_. I need not seek him,
He has found me; and, as I am a soldier,
His walking towards me is more terrible
Then any enemies march I ever mett with.
1 _Cap_. We must stand to it.
_Bar_. You, Sir, you?
2 _Cap_. My Lord.
_Bar_. As I use this I waigh you: you are he
That when your Company was viewd and checkd
For your dead paies,[144] stood on your termes of honour,
Cryde out "I am a Gentleman, a Commaunder,
And shall I be curbd by my lords the States,"
(For thus you said in scorne) "that are but Merchants,
Lawyers, Apothecaries, and Physitians,
Perhaps of worser ranck"? But you shall know, Sir,
They are not such, but Potentates and Princes
From whom you take pay.
1 _Cap_. This indeed is stately:
Statesmen, d'you call 'em?
2 _Cap_. I beseech your Lordship:
'Twas wine and anger.
_Bar_. No, Sir; want of dutie:
But I will make that tongue give him the lye
That said soe, drunck or sober; take my word for't.
Your Compaine is cast: you had best complaine
To your Great Generall, and see if he
Can of himself maintaine you,--Come, _Modes-bargen_.
[_Exeunt Barnavelt, Modes-bargen, and Grotius_,
_Leid_. I am sorry for you, Captaine, but take comfort:
I love a Soldier, and all I can doe
To make you what you were, shall labour for you.
And so, good morrow, Gentlemen.
[_Exit_.
1 _Cap_. Yet theres hope;
For you have one friend left.
2 _Cap_. You are deceivd, Sir,
And doe not know his nature that gave promise
Of his assistance.
1 _Cap_. Who is't?
2 _Cap_. _Leidenberck_.
One of the Lords, the States, and of great powre too;
I would he were as honest. This is he
That never did man good, and yet no Suitor
Ever departed discontented from him.
Hee'll promise any thing: I have seene him talke
At the Church dore with his hat of to a Begger
Almost an houre togeather, yet when he left him
He gave him not a doyt. He do's profes
To all an outward pitty, but within
The devills more tender: the great plague upon him!
Why thinck I of him? he's no part of that
Must make my peace.
1 _Cap_. Why, what course will you take then?
2 _Cap_. A Bribe to _Barnavelts_ wiffe, or a kind wench
For my yong lord his Son, when he has drunck hard.
There's no way els to doo't.
1 _Cap_. I have gold good store
You shall not want that; and if I had thought on't
When I left _London_, I had fitted you
For a convenient Pagan.
2 _Cap_. Why, is there
Such store they can be spard?
1 _Cap_.[145] ... ... ...
2 _Cap_. I thanck you, Sir.
[_Exeunt_.
SCAENA 2.
_Enter[146] Barnavelt, Modes-bargen, Leidenberck,
Grotius, and Hogebeets_.
_Bar_. The States are sitting: all that I can doe
Ile say in little; and in me theis Lords
Promise as much. I am of your belief
In every point you hold touching religion,
And openly I will profes myself
Of the _Arminian_ sect.
_Gro_. You honour it.
_Hog_.[147] And all our praires and service.
_Bar_. Reverend man
Your loves I am ambitious of. Already
'Tis knowne I favour you, and that hath drawne
Libells against me; but the stinglesse hate
Of those that wryte them I contempne.
_Hog_. They are worthie
Of nothing but contempt.
_Bar_. That I confes, too;
But yet we must expect much opposition
Ere your opinions be confirmd. I know
The _Prince of Orange_ a sworne enemie
To your affections: he has vowd to crosse you,
But I will still stand for you. My advice is
That, having won the Burgers to your partie,
Perswade them to enroll new Companies
For their defence against the Insolence
Of the old Soldiers garisond at _Utrecht_.
Yet practise on them, too, and they may urge this:
That since they have their pay out of that Province,
Justice requires they should be of their partie:
All that is don in _Utrecht_ shalbe practisd
In _Roterdam_ and other Townes I name not.
Farther directions you shall have hereafter,
Till when I leave you.
_Gro_. With all zeale and care
We will performe this. [_Exit_.[148]
_Leid_. This foundation
Is well begun.
_Gro_. And may the building prosper.
_Mod_. Yet let me tell you, where Religion
Is made a cloke to our bad purposes
They seldom have succes.
_Bar_. You are too holly:
We live now not with Saincts but wicked men,
And any thriving way we can make use of,
What shape so ere it weares, to crosse their arts,
We must embrace and cherish; and this course
(Carrying a zealous face) will countenaunce
Our other actions. Make the Burgers ours,
Raise Soldiers for our guard, strengthen our side
Against the now unequall opposition
Of this Prince that contemns us;[149] at the worst,
When he shall know there are some Regiments
We may call ours, and that have no dependaunce
Upon his favour, 'twill take from his pride
And make us more respected.
_Mod_. May it prove so.
_Enter Bredero, Vandort, Officers_.
_Bre_. Good day, my Lord.
_Vand_. Good Mounseiur Advocate,
You are an early stirrer.
_Bar_. 'Tis my dutie
To wayte your Lordships pleasure: please you to walke.
_Bre_. The Prince is wanting, and this meeting being
Touching the oath he is to take, 'twere fitt
That we attend him.
_Bar_. That he may set downe
What he will sweare, prescribing lymitts to us!
We need not add this wind by our observaunce
To sailes too full alredy. Oh, my Lords,
What will you doe? Have we with so much blood
Maintaind our liberties, left the allegeaunce
(How justly now it is no time to argue)
To _Spaine_, to offer up our slavish necks
To one that only is what we have made him?
For, be but you yourselves, this _Prince of Orange_
Is but as _Barnavelt_, a Servant to
Your Lordships and the State; like me maintaind;
The pomp he keepes, at your charge: will you then
Wayt his prowd pleasure, and in that confes,
By daring to doe nothing, that he knowes not--
You have no absolute powre?
_Van_. I never sawe
The Advocate so mov'd.
_Bar_. Now to be patient
Were to be treacherous: trust once his counsaile
That never yet hath faild you. Make him know
That any limb of this our reverend Senate
In powre is not beneath him. As we sitt
Ile yeild you further reasons; i'the meane time
Commaund him by the Officers of the Court
Not to presse in untill your Lordships pleasure
Be made knowne to him.
_Vand_. 'Tis most requisite.
_Leid_. And for the honour of the Court.
_Vand_. Goe on;
You have my voice.
_Bre_. And mine;--yet wee'll proceed
As judgement shall direct us.
_Vand_. 'Tis my purpose.
_Bar_. In this disgrace I have one foote on his neck;
Ere long Ile set the other on his head
And sinck him to the Center.
_Leid_. Looke to the dores there.
[_Exeunt_.
SCAENA 3.
_Enter[150] Pr. of Orange, Gra: William,
Collonells & Captaines_.
_Or_. I, now methincks I feele the happynes
Of being sproong from such a noble father,
That sacrifizd his honour, life and fortune
For his lov'd Cuntry. Now the blood and kindred
Of _Horne_ and _Egmont_ (Memories great Martires),
That must outlive all _Alva's_ Tirranies
And when their Stories told ev'n shake his ashes,
Methincks through theis vaines now, now at this instant,
I feele their Cuntries losse; I feele[151] too--
_Will_. All feele sencibly,
And every noble hart laments their miseries,
And every eie, that labours not with mallice,
Sees your great services and through what dangers
You have raisd those noble speritts monuments.
_Or_. What I have don I look not back to magnifie;
My Cuntry calld me to it. What I shall yet doe,
With all the industrie and strength I have lent me
And grace of heaven to guid, so it but satisfie
The expectation of the State commaunds me
And in my Cuntries eye appeere but lovely,
I shall sitt downe, though old and bruizd yet happie;
Nor can the bitter and bold tounge of mallice,
That never yet spoke well of faire deservings,
With all hir course aspersions floong upon me
Make me forsake my dutie, touch or shake me
Or gaine so much upon me as an anger,
Whilst here I hold me loyall. Yet believe, Gentlemen,
Theis wrongs are neither few nor slight, nor followed
By liberall tongues provokd by want or wine,
For such were to be smild at and so slighted,
But by those men, and shot so neer mine honour
I feare my person too; but, so the State suffer not,
I am as easie to forget.
_Will_. Too easie;
And that feeds up their mallice to a Monster.
You are the arme oth' war, the Soldiers sperit;
The other but dead stories, you the dooer.
_Col_. It stands not with the honour you have won, Sir,
Still built upon and betterd.
_Or_. No more, good Collonell.
_Col_. The love the Soldier beares you to give way thus!
To have your actions consturd, scornd and scoffd at
By such malignant soules! you are yourself, Sir,
And master of more mindes that love and honour ye.[152]
_Will_. Yf you would see it; but take through the mallice
The evill intended now, now bent upon ye.
_Or_. I pray ye, no more; as you love me, no more.
Stupid I never was nor so secure yet
To lead my patience to mine owne betraying:
I shall find time and riper cause.-- [_Guard at dore_.
Now, frends,
Are my Lords the States set yet.
1 _Gu_. An houre agoe, Sir.
_Or_. Beshrew ye, Gentlemen, you have made me tardy:
Open the dore,
1 _Gu_. I beseech your Grace to pardon me.[153]
_Or_. Do'st thou know who I am?
1 _Gu_. Yes, Sir, and honour you.
_Or_. Why do'st thou keep the dore fast then?
_Will_. Thou fellow,
Thou sawcy fellow, and you that stand by gaping!
Is the Prince of no more value, no more respect
Then like a Page?
2 _Gu_. We beseech your Excellencies
To pardon us; our duties are not wanting,
Nor dare we entertaine a thought to crosse ye:
We are placed here on Commaund.
_Or_. To keepe me out?
Have I lost my place in Councell? are my services
Growne to so poore regards, my worth so bankrupt?
Or am I tainted with dishonest actions,
That I am held unfitt my Cuntries busines?
Who placd ye here?
1 _Gu_. The body of the Councell;
And we beseech your Grace make it not our syn:
They gave us strict commaund to stop your passage.
_Or_. 'Twas frendly don and like my noble masters.
_Will_. Deny you place? make good the dore against ye?
This is unsufferable, most unsufferable.
_Or_. Now I begin to feele those doubts; I feare still--
_Col_. So far to dare provoke ye! 'tis too monstrous;
And you forget your self, your birth, your honour,
The name of Soldier if you suffer this,
Suffer from these, these things, these--pox upon't!--
These molds of men made noble by your services,
Your daylie sweatts.
1 _Cap_. It must not be endured thus,
The wrong extends to us, we feele it severally.
2 _Cap_. Your sweet humillitie has made 'em scorne ye
And us, and all the world that serve their uses;
And stick themselves up teachers, masters, princes,
Allmost new gods too, founders of new faithes.
--Weell force your way.
_Col_. Let's see then who dare stop ye.
_Gu_. Not we, I am sure.
_Col_. Let's see who dare denie ye
Your place and right of councell.
_Or_. Stay, I commaund ye;
He that puts forward first to this wild action
Has lost my love and is becom mine Enemy,
My mortall enemie. Put up your weapons,
You draw 'em against order, duty, faith;
And let me die ere render such examples.
The men you make so meane, so slight account of,
And in your angers prise, not in your honours,
Are Princes, powerfull Princes, mightie Princes;
That daylie feed more men of your great fashion
And noble ranck, pay and maintaine their fortunes,
Then any monarch _Europe_ has: and for this bountie,
If ye consider truly, Gentlemen,
And honestly, with thankfull harts remember,
You are to pay them back againe your service:
They are your masters, your best masters, noblest,
Those that protect your states, hold up your fortunes;
And for this good you are to sacrifize
Your thancks and duties, not your threats and angers.
I and all Soldiers els that strike with their armes,
And draw from them the meanes of life and honour,
Are doble tyde in faith to observe their pleasures.
_Col_. A Prince of rare humanitie and temper.
Sir, as you teach us armes, you man our minds, too,
With civill precepts, making us true Soldiers,
Then worthie to receive a trust from others
When we stand masters of our owne discretions.
_Enter Barnavelt, Modesbargen, Leidenberch, Grotius
Bredero, Vandort & Hogerbeets_.
_Will_. Your good and great example tyes us all, Sir.
_Cap_. The Councell's broken up.
_Or_. My noble Lords,
Let it not seeme displeasing to your wisdomes,
I humbly ask in what I have offended,
Or how suspected stand, or with what cryme blotted,
That this day from your fellowship, your councell,
My Cuntries care and where I owe most service,
Like a man perishd in his worth I am exilde.
_Bar_. Your Grace must know we cannot wait attendaunce,
Which happely you looke for.
_Or_. Wayt, my lords!
_Bar_. Nor what we shall designe for the States comfort
Stay your deliberate crosses. We know you are able,
And every way a wise Prince fitt for counsell;
But I must tell ye, Sir, and tell ye truly,
The Soldier has so blowne ye up, so swelld ye
And those few services you call your owne,
That now our commendations are too light gales,
Too slacke and emptie windes, to move your worthes;
And trumpets of your owne tongue and the Soldiers
Now onely fill your sailes.
_Bre_. Be not so bitter.
_Bar_. We mix with quiet speritts, staid and temperate,
And those that levell at not great but good ends
Dare hold us their Companions, not their Servants,
And in that ranck be ready to supply us.
Your Grace is growne too haughtie.
_Leid_. Might it please you
But thinck, Sir, of our honest services
(I dare not terme them equall) and but waigh well,
In which I know your Grace a perfect master,
Your judgment excellent, and then but tell us
And truly (which I know your goodnes will doe)
Why should we seeme so poore, so undertrodden,
And though not trusted with the State and Councell,
Why so unable vallued. Pardon, great Sir,
If those complaine who feele the waight of envy,
If such poore trod on wormes make show to turne againe.
Nor is it we that feele, I hope, nor you, Sir,
That gives the cullour of this difference:
Rumour has many tongues but few speak truth:
We feele not onely,--if we did 'twere happie--
Our Cuntry, Sir, our Cuntrie beares the blow too;
But you were ever noble.
_Or_. Good my Lords,
Let it be free your Servant, chargd in mallice,
If not fling of his crymes, at least excuse 'em
To you my great correcter. Would to heaven, Sir,
That syn of pride and insolence you speake of,
That pufft up greatnes blowne from others follyes
Were not too neere akin to your great Lordship
And lay not in your bosom, your most deere one.
You taint me, Sir, with syns concerne my manners,--
If I have such Ile studdy to correct 'em;
But, should I taint you, I should charge ye deeper:
The cure of those would make ye shrinck and shake, too,
--Shake of your head.
_Bar_. You are too weak ith' hams, Sir.
_Or_. Who raisd these new religious forces, Sir,
And by what warrant? what assignement had ye
From the States generall? who blew new fires?
Even fires of fowle rebellion, I must tell ye;
The bellowes to it, Religion. You were lov'd yet
But for your ends,--through all the Townes, the Garrisons,
To fright the union of the State, to shake it.
What syns are theis? You may smile with much comfort,
And they that see ye and not looke closely to ye
May crye too er't be long.
_Bar_. Your Grace has leave, Sir,
And tis right good it be soe.--Follow me home,
And there Ile give ye new directions
How to proceed, and sodainely.
_Leid_. | We are yours, Sir.
_Mod_. |
[_Exeunt Bar., Leid., Mod_.
_Or_. My lords, to what a monster this man's grown
You may (if not abusd with dull securitie)
See plaine as day.
_Bre_. We doe not like his carriage.
_Van_. He do's all, speakes all, all disposes.
_Or_. Spoiles all.
He that dare live to see him work his ends out
Uncrossd and unprevented, that wretched man
Dare live to see his Cuntry shrinck before him.
Consider my best lords, my noblest masters,
How most, most fitt, how just and necessary
A sodaine and a strong prevention.
_Bre_. We all conceave your Grace and all look through him
And find him what we feare not yet but grieve at.
You shall have new Commission from us all
To take in all those Townes he has thrust his men in:
When you have that, proceed as likes your Excellence.
_Or_. Your lordships true friend and most obedient Servant.
_Van_. Come to the present busines then.
_Or_. We attend you.
[_Exeunt_.
_Actus Secundus_.
SCAENA PRIMA.
_Enter Barnavelt, Leidenberch, Modesbargen_.
_Bar_. I have with danger venturd thus far to you
That you might know by me our plot's discoverd.
But let not that discourage you: though _Van Dort_
And _Bredero_, with others, have assented
To force this Towne, stand you still on your Guard,
And on my reputation rest assured
With violence they never dare attempt you;
For that would give the world to understand
Th'united Provinces, that by their concord
So long have held out 'gainst th'opposition
Of all _Spaines_ Governours, their plotts and armyes,
Make way to their most certaine ruyn by
A Civill warre.
_Leid_. This cannot be denide.
_Bar_. And so at any time we may make our peace,
Returning to our first obedience
Upon what termes we please.
_Mod_. That is not certaine;
For, should we tempt them once to bring their forces
Against the Towne and find we give it up
For want of strength to keepe it, the Conditions
To which we must subscribe are in their will
And not our choice or pleasure.
_Bar_. You are governd
More by your feare then reason.
_Mod_. May it prove soe:
That way I would be guiltie.
_Bar_. How appeere
The new raisd Companies?
_Leid_. They stand full and faithfull;
And for the Burgers, they are well affected
To our designes. The _Arminians_ play their parts too,
And thunder in their meetings hell and dampnation
To such as hold against us.
_Bar_. 'Tis well orderd:
But have you tride by any meanes (it skills not
How much you promise) to wyn the old Soldiers
(The _English_ Companies, in chief, I ayme at)
To stand firme for us?
_Leid_. We have to that purpose
Imploid _Rock-Giles_, with some choice Burgers els
That are most popular to the Officers
That doe commaund here in the Collonells absence.
We expect them every mynitt. Yf your Lordship
(For 'tis not fitt, I think, you should be seene)
Will please to stand aside (yet you shalbe
Within the hearing of our Conference)
You shall perceive we will imploy all arts
To make them ours.
_Mod_. They are come.
_Bar_. Be earnest with them.
_Enter Rock-Giles, 2 Burgers, Captaines, Leuitenant_.
_R: Giles_. With much adoe I have brought 'em: the prowde Shellains[154]
Are paid too well, and that makes them forget
We are their Masters.
1 _Burg_. But when we tooke them on,
Famishd allmost for want of entertainement,
Then they cryde out they would do any thing
We would commaund them.
1 _Cap_. And so we say still,
Provided it be honest.
_Giles_. Is it fitt
That mercenary Soldiers, that for pay
Give up their liberties and are sworne t'expose
Their lyves and fortunes to all dangers, should
Capitulate with their Lords?
1 _Burg_. Prescribing when
They are pleasd to be commaunded and for what.
_Giles_. Answeare to this.
_Leuit_. You know our resolutions,
And therefore, Captaine, speak for all.
1 _Cap_. I will,
And doe it boldly: We were entertaind
To serve the generall States and not one Province;
To fight as often as the Prince of _Orange_
Shall lead us forth, and not to stand against him;
To guard this Cuntrie, not to ruyn it;
To beat of foreigne Enemies, not to cherish
Domestique factions. And where you upbraid us
With the poore means we have to feed, not cloath us,
Forgetting at how deere a rate we buy
The triffles we have from you, thus I answeare:--
Noe Cuntrie ere made a defensive war
And gaind by it but you. What privat Gentleman
That onely trailes a pike, that comes from _England_
Or _Fraunce_, but brings gold with him which he leaves here
And so enriches you? Where such as serve
The _Polander, Bohemian, Dane_, or _Turck_,
Though they come almost naked to their Collours,
Besides their pay (which they contempne) the spoiles
Of armyes overthrowne, of Citties sackd,
Depopulations of wealthie Cuntries,
If he survive the uncertaine chaunce of war,
Returne him home to end his age in plenty
Of wealth and honours.
_Bar_. This is shrewdly urgd.
1 _Cap_. Where we, poore wretches, covetous of fame onely,
Come hether but as to a Schoole of war
To learne to struggle against cold and hunger,
And with unwearied steps to overcome
A tedious march when the hot Lyons breath
Burnes up the feilds; the glory that we ayme at
Being our obedience to such as doe
Commaund in cheif; to keepe our rancks, to fly
More then the death all mutenies and rebellions.
And would you then, whose wisdomes should correct
Such follies in us, rob us of that litle,
That litle honour that rewards our service,
To bring our necks to the Hangmans Sword or Halter,
Or (should we scape) to brand our foreheads with
The name of Rebells?
_Giles_. I am put to a non plus:--
Speake mine Here Secretarie.
_Leid_. I have heard
So much deliverd by you and so well,
Your actions, too, at all parts answearing
What you have spoken, that I must acknowledge
We all stand far indebted to your service:
And therefore, as unto the worthiest,
The faithfullest and strongest that protect
Us and our Cuntries, we now seek to you,
And would not but such men should be remembred
As principall assistants in the Care
Of a disease which now the State lyes sick of.
I know you love the valiant Prince, and yet
You must graunt him a Servant to the States
As you are, Gentlemen, and therefore will not
Defend that in him which you would not cherish
In cold blood in your selves; for should he be
Disloyall--
_Leuit_. He disloyall! 'tis a language
I will not heare.
2 _Cap_. Such a suspition of him
Is one that wore a Sword deserv'd the lye.
1 _Cap_. We know your oild tongue; and your rethorique
Will hardly work on us that are acquainted
With what faire language your ill purposes
Are ever cloathd, nor ever wilbe won
To undervalue him whose least fam'd service
Scornes to be put in ballance with the best
Of all your Counsailes; and for his faith, O heaven!
It do's as far transcend yours in your praires
As light do's darkness.
_Leid_. I perceive 'tis true
That such as flatter Servants make them prowd.
Wee'll use a rougher way, and here commaund you
To leave the Towne, and sodainely, if you wish not
To be forced hence.
1 _Cap_. Your new raisd Companies
Of such as never saw the Enemie
Can hardly make that good: we were placed here
By the allowaunce of the generall States
And of the Prince to keep it to their use.
_Leuit_. And we will doe it.
1 _Cap_. And while there is Lead
Upon a house, or any Soldier master
But of a doyt: when that is gon, expect
That we will make you sport, or leave our lives
To witness we were faithfull.--Come, Lieutenant,
Let us draw up the Companies; and then
Charge on us when you please.
[_Exeunt_.
_Mod_. This I foresaw.
_Bar_. Oh, I am lost with anger! are we falne
So lowe from what we were, that we dare heare
This from our Servants and not punish it?
Where is the terrour of our names, our powre
That _Spaine_ with feare hath felt in both his _Indies_?
We are lost for ever, and from freemen growne
Slaves so contemptible as no worthie Prince,
That would have men, not sluggish Beasts, his Servants,
Would ere vouchsafe the owning. Now, my frends,
I call not on your furtherance to preserve
The lustre of my actions; let me with them
Be nere remembred, so this government
Your wives, your lives and liberties be safe:
And therefore, as you would be what you are,
Freemen and masters of what yet is yours,
Rise up against this Tirant, and defend
With rigour what too gentle lenitie
Hath almost lost.
_Leid_. Ile to the new raisd Soldiers
And make them firme.
_Giles_. Ile muster up the Burgers
And make them stand upon their guard.
_Mod_. For me
Ile not be wanting.
_Bar_. Ile back to the _Hage_
And something there Ile doe that shall divert
The torrent that swells towards us, or sinck in it;
And let this Prince of _Orange_ seat him sure,
Or he shall fall when he is most secure.
[_Exeunt_.
SCAENA 2.
_Enter Holderus, Dutch-woemen and an English Gentlew_.
1 _D. W_. Here come the Sisters: that's an _English_ Gentlewoman,
Let's pray for hir Conversion.
2 _D. W_. You are wellcom, Lady,
And your comming over hether is most happy;
For here you may behold the generall freedom
We live and traffique in, the ioy of woemen.
No emperious _Spanish_ eye governes our actions,
Nor _Italian_ jealouzie locks up our meetings:
We are ourselves our owne disposers, masters;
And those that you call husbands are our Servants.
3 _D. W_. Your owne Cuntry breedes ye hansom, maintaines ye brave,
But with a stubborne hand the husbands awe ye:
You speake but what they please, looke where they point ye,
And though ye have some libertie 'tis lymitted.
4 _D. W_. Which cursse you must shake of. To live is nothing;
To live admird and lookd at,--poore deservings
But to live soe, so free you may commaund, Lady,
Compell, and there raigne Soveraigne.
1 _D. W_. Do you thinck there's any thing
Our husbands labour for, and not for our ends?
Are we shut out of Counsailes, privacies,
And onely lymitted our household busines?
No, certaine, Lady; we pertake with all,
Or our good men pertake no rest. Why this man
Works theis or theis waies, with or against the State,
We know and give allowaunces.
_2 D. W_. Why such a Gentleman,
Thus hansom and thus yong, commaunds such a quarter;
Where theis faire Ladies lye; why the _Grave's_ angry
And Mounseiur _Barnavelt_ now discontent,--
Do you thinck it's fitt we should be ignorant?
_2 D. W_. Or why there's sprung up now a new devotion?
Good Gentlewoman, no. Do you see this fellow?
He is a Scholler and a parlous Scholler,
Or whether he be a Scholler or no 'tis not a doy't matter:
He's a fine talker and a zealous talker;
We can make him thinck what we list, say what we list,
Print what we list and whom we list abuse in't.
_Eng.-gentw_. And a Teacher do you say?
_2 D. W_. A singuler teacher,
For so we hold such here.
_Eng.-gentw_. Doe they use no modestie
Upon my life, some of theis new _Arminians_,
Theis hissing tosts!
_Hold_. An ignorant strange woman,
Whose faith is onely tride by a Coach and foure horses.
_3 D. W_. Come, you must be as we are and the rest of your Countrywomen;
You doe not know the sweet on't.
_Eng.-gentw_. Indeed, nor will not;
Our Cuntry brings us up to faire Obedience
To know our husbands for our Governours,
So to obey and serve 'em: two heads make monsters;
Nor Dare we thinck of what is don above us,
Nor talk of _Graves_.
_Hold_. The _Grave_ shall smart for 't shortly;
Goe you and tell him soe, gooddy _English woman_:
You have long tayles and long tongues, but we shall clip 'em.
_Enter Vandermitten_.[155]
_I D. W_. How now? what haste?
_Vand_. The Prince is drawing up to us
And has disarmd all the strong Townes about us
Of our new Soldiers; the _English_ now stand only
And the old Companies.
_Eng.-gentw_. Now your wisdomes, Ladies,
Your learning also, Sir, your learned prating--
You that dare prick your eares up at great Princes
And doble charge your tongue with new opinions,--
What can you doe? or can theis holly woemen
That you have arm'd against obedience
And made contempners of the fooles their husbands,
Examiners of State,--can they doe any thing?
Can they defy the Prince?
_Hold_. They shall defie him,
And to his face: why doe not ye raise the Burgers
And draw up the new Companies?
_Enter Leidenberge_?[156]
_Leid_. Away, good women!
This is no sport for you: goe, cheere your husbands
And bid 'em stand now bravely for their liberties.
_Arnam_ and _Roterdam_ and all about us
Have yeilded him obedience; all the new Companies
Purgd and disarmd. Goe you; talke to the _Arminians_,
And raise their harts. Good Ladies, no more Councells:
This is no time to puppet in.
1 _D. W_. We are gon, Sir,
_2 D. W_. And will so coniure up our lazie husbands.
_Eng.-gentw_. And coniure wisely, too; the devill will faile else.
[_Exeunt Women_.
_Leid_. What's she?
_Vand_. An _English_ woman.
_Leid_. Would they were all shipt well
To th' other part oth' world. Theis stubborne _English_
We onely feare.
_Vand_. We are strong enough to curb 'em.
_Leid_. But we have turnop hearts.
_Enter a Messenger_.
Now what's the next newes?
_Mess_.[157] The Prince is at the Barriers, and desires his entraunce
_Leid_. He must not enter:--what Company is with him?
_Mess_. But few, and those unarmd too: about some twentie.
_Leid_. And what behind?
_Mess_. We can discover none.
_Leid_. Let's goe and view: Brothers, be strong and valiant;
We have lost the Towne els and our freedoms with it.
[_Exeunt_.
SCAENA 3.
_Enter 1 Captaine[158] and Soldiers_.
_Sold_. They charge us not to let him in.
1 _Cap_. We will doe it;
He has our faithes.--What strengthe's upon the Guard?
_Sold_. Two hundred _English_.
1 _Cap_. Goe, and give this comaund then:
That if any Burgers or _Arminian_ Soldiers
Offer to come upon the Guard, or let in or out
Any without our knowledge, presently
To bend their strength upon 'em.
_Sold_. It shalbe don. [_Exit_.
1 _Cap_. Do you disperse to the old Companies,
Bid 'em be ready; tell 'em now is the time,
And charge 'em keepe a strong eye ore the Burgers.
Ile up to'th Guard.
_Sold_. Wee'le doe it seriously.
[_Exeunt_.
SCAENA 4.
_Enter Prince of Orange, William,
Captaine,[159] Leiutenant, &c_.
_Or_. None of our frends upon the Portt? Is this the welcom
Of such a Towne, so bound in preservation
To us and ours?
2 _Cap_. The Prince is sadly angry.
_Leiut_. Can ye blame him, Captaine, when such a den of dog whelps
Are fosterd here against him? You will rouse anon:
There are old Companies sure, honest and faithfull,
That are not poysond with this ranck infection.
Now they appeare, Sir.
_Enter Captaine[160] on the walls_.
1 _Cap_. Will your Grace please to enter?
_Or_. And thanck ye too.
1 _Cap_. The Port is open for ye.
_Or_. You see my number.
1 _Cap_. But I hope 'tis more, Sir.
_Or_. Theis must in first; 'Twill breed a good securitie.
1 _Cap_. We stand all ready for your Grace.
_Or_. We thanck ye.
1 _Cap_. What Companies come on, Sir.
_Or_. Three Troope of horse,
That will be with ye presently: keepe strong the Port.
1 _Cap_. Enter when please your Grace; we shall stand sure, Sir.
[_Exeunt_.
SCAENA 5.
_Enter Leidenberge, Vandermitten,[161] Rock Giles_.
_Leid_. Is he come in, do you say?
_Vand_. He is, but followed
So slenderly and poore.
_Leid_. We are undon then;
He knowes too well what ground he ventures on.
Where are the _Arminian_ Soldiers?
_R. Giles_. They stand ith' market place.
_Leid_. Are they well armd?
_R. Giles_. Ready to entertaine him.
_Leid_. Who commaunds the Port?
_Vand_. The _English_.
_Leid_. Ten towsand devills!
Odd's sacrament! a meere trick to betray us.
_Vand_. We can discover none behind.
_Leid_. A trick:
Those _English_ are the men borne to undooe us.
_Enter Messenger_.[162]
_Mess_. Arme, arme, and now stand to your ancient freedoms!
Three troope of horse, ten Companies of foote
Are enterd now the Port.
_Leid_. I told ye, Gentlemen.
_Mess_. The _English_ make a stand upon the new Companies,
Ready to charge 'em if they stirr.
_Leid_. Oh mischief!
All our designes are crackt, layed open, ruynd:
Let's looke if any cure remaine. O devill!
[_Exeunt_.
SCAENA 6.
_Enter Duch-woemen and Burgers_.
_Duch-W_. The Prince, the Prince, the Prince! O our husbands.
_Burg_. Goe pray, goe pray, goe pray: We shalbe hangd all.
_Duch-W_. I would it were no worse:
_Enter Eng.-gentw_.
_Eng.-gentw_. Now where's your valours,
You that would eat the Prince?
_Duch-W_. Sweet _English_ Gentlewoman.
_Eng.-gentw_. Fy, doe not run! for shame! body a me,
How their feare outstincks their garlick! litle Sir _Gregory_,
_Enter Holderus_.[163]
Art thou afraid, too? out with thy two edgd tongue
And lay about thee!
_Hold_. Out o' my way, good woeman,
Out o' my way: I shalbe whipt, and hangd too.
_Eng.-gentw_. Theis fellowes have strong faithes and notable valours:
Ile walk about and see this sport.
[_Exeunt_.
SCAENA 7.
_Enter Orange, Leidenberge, Burgers, Captaines,
Soldiers, and Arminians_.
_Or_. Now, Mounseuir _Leidenberge_ you may se openly
The issues of your desperate undertakings,
And your good helpes, myne Heeires; now you must feele too,
And to your greifes, what the deserts of those are
That boldly dare attempt their Cuntries ruyn
And who we serve, how faithfully and honestly
You must and shall confes too: not to blind ends
Hood-winckt with base ambition, such as yours are,
But to the generall good.--Let[164] theis new Companies
March by us through the Market, so to the Guard house,
And there disarme;--wee'll teach ye true obedience;--
Then let 'em quitt the Towne, hansom swag fellowes
And fitt for fowle play.
_Leiut_. Theis are but heavy marches.
_Or_. They wilbe lighter straight, when they are unfurnishd
You put your trust in theis; you have tall defences,--
Treason maintaind with heresie, fitt weapons!
--So now disarme the Towne: wee'll plant new Governours!
_Leid_. Will your Grace be pleasd to heare?
_Or_. Yes, at the _Hage_, Sir,
Till when bethinck you of your acts and answeares,
For there before the generall State--Where's _Modesbargen_?
_Cap_. He left the Towne two daies agoe.
_Or_. A guilty feare,
But we shall fright him worsse. Good order take
For the Towne, and what fitt Garrison to leave in't.
We are homeward bound, where we shall make you wellcom,
You have instructed us in what free fashion.
Come, Gentlemen, let's now goe take our rest:
Prowd confidence is but a foole at best.
[_Exeunt_.
_Actus Tercius_.
SCAENA PRIMA.
_Enter Bredero, Vandort_.[165]
_Bre_. Myne Heire Vandort, what thinck ye of the Prince now?
_Vandort_. Like a true noble Gentlemen he has borne himself
And a faire fortunate Soldier: I hold the State, Sir,
Most happie in his care, and this torne Cuntry,
Whose wounds smart yet, most bound to his deliveraunce.
_Bre_. 'Tis certaine his proceedings in this busines,
As in all els, have byn most wise and constant
And waited on with full wingd Expedition:
How many Townes armd with theis new Pretenders,
Stird up and steeld by founders of new doctrines,
The collour to their Cause, hath he (and sodainely)
Disarmd againe and setled in obedience,
And without bloodshed, Lords, without the Sword
And those Calamities that shake a kingdom:
So gently and without noyse he has performd this
As if he had don it in a dreame.
_Vand_. Most certaine,
He has run through a busines will much add to him
And set his vertues of with greater Lustre:
But that a man so wise as Mounseiur _Barnavelt_,
So trusted, so rewarded for his Service,
And one that built the ladder to his honour
Of open, honest actions, strong and straight still,
Should now be doubted!
_Bred_. I know not nor I wish it not,
But if he have a fowle hart't has byn hid long,
And cunningly that poyson has byn carried.
_Vand_. But why a father to theis new professions?
Why should he strengthen those opinions
That all true learning much laments and greives at
And sincks the soules sweet union into ruyn?
Why theis, my lords? and why in every Garrison,
Unles he had an end that shot at evill,
Should he so strongly plant theis fire-brands
And through his powre add daylie to their nombers?
_Bred_. Most sure he is suspected, strongly suspected
But that a man of his great trust and busines
Should sinck or suffer under doubts or whispers
Or loose his honour by an others envy,
Is not faire play nor honest. The Prince of _Orange_,
Most thinck, affects him not, nor he the Prince.
That either of their angry wills should prove
A lawful act to ruyn one another,
And not a medium of more open Justice,
More equall and more honorable, step in,
Man had no powre to stand nor fall with honour.
If he be falce, honest and upright proofes
Will ripen the Imposture.
_Enter Barnavelt and his Son_.
[1 _Lord_.[166] Here he comes, sir.]
_Vand_. Methincks he beares not in his Countenaunce
The fulnes of that grave and constant sperit,
Nor in his eye appeeres that heat and quicknes
He was wont to move withall.--Salute, and counsell:
Let's leave him to his thoughts.
_Son_. They mind ye not:
Now, as I have a soule, they looke not on ye.
_Bar_. My noble Lords, what is't appeeres upon me
So ougly strange you start and fly my Companie?
What plague sore have ye spide, what taynt in honour,
What ill howre in my life so cleere deserving
That rancks in this below your fellowships?
For which of all my cares, of all my watches,
My services (too many and too mightie
To find rewards) am I thus recompenced,
Not lookd on, not saluted, left forgotten
Like one that came to petition to your honours,--
Over the shoulder sleighted?
_Bred_. Mounseiur _Barnavelt_,
I am sorry that a man of your great wisdom
And those rare parts that make ye lov'd and honourd,
In every Princes Court highly esteemd of,
Should loose so much in point of good and vertue
Now in the time you ought to fix your faith fast,
The creadit of your age, carelessly loose it,--
I dare not say, ambitiously--that your best frends,
And those that ever thought on your example,
Dare not with comon safetie now salute ye.
_Bar_. I loose in point of honour! My frends feare me!
My age suspected too! now as ye are iust men
Unknit this riddle.
1 _Lord_. You are doubted, strongly doubted.
_Bar_. O the devill.
2 _Lord_. Your loialtie suspected.
_Bar_. Who dare doe this?
_Bred_. We wish all well; and you that know how dangerous
In men of lesser mark theis foule attempts are
And often have bewaild 'em in the meanest,
I make no doubt will meet your owne fault sodainely
And chide yourself; grow faire againe and flourish
In the same full esteeme ye held and favour.
_Bar_. And must I heare this sett downe for all my service?
Is this the glorious mark of my deservings?
Taynted and torne in honour must I perish,
And must theis silver curles, ô you unthanckfull,
Theis emblemes of my frostie cares and travells
For you and for the State, fall with disgraces?
Goe, fall before your new Prince! worship him,
Fill all your throates with flattery, cry before him
'Tis he, and onely he, has truly serv'd ye!
Forget me and the peace I have wrought your Cuntry;
Bury my memory, raze out my name,
My forty yeares endeavoures write in dust
That your great Prince may blow 'em into nothing;
And on my Monument (you most forgetfull)
Fling all your scornes, erect an yroon-toothed envy
That she may gnaw the pious stones that hides me.
_Vand_. Ye are too much mov'd, and now too late ye find, Sir,
How naked and unsafe it is for a long Gowne
To buckle with the violence of an Army.
The Emperour _Traian_ challenging a yong man
And a swift runner to try his speed against him,
The Gentleman made answeare sodainely
It was not safe nor fitt to hold contention
With any man commaunded thirtie legions.
You know the Prince and know his noble nature,
I thinck you know his powre, too: of all your wisdomes
This will not show the least nor prove the meanest
In good mens eyes, I thinck, in all that know ye,
To seeke his love: gentle and faire demeanours
Wyn more then blowes and soften stubborne angers.
Let me perswade ye.
_Bar_. When I am a Sycophant
And a base gleaner from an others favour,
As all you are that halt upon his crutches.
Shame take that smoothnes and that sleeke subjection!
I am myself, as great in good as he is,
As much a master of my Cuntries fortunes,
And one to whom (since I am forcd to speak it,
Since mine owne tongue must be my Advocate)
This blinded State that plaies at boa-peep with us,
This wanton State that's weary of hir lovers
And cryes out "Give me younger still and fresher!"
Is bound and so far bound: I found hir naked,
Floung out a dores and starvd, no frends to pitty hir,
The marks of all her miseries upon hir,
An orphan State that no eye smild upon:
And then how carefully I undertooke hir,
How tenderly and lovingly I noursd hir!
But now she is fatt and faire againe and I foold,
A new love in hir armes, my doatings scornd at.
And I must sue to him! be witnes, heaven,
If this poore life were forfeyt to his mercy,
At such a rate I hold a scornd subiection
I would not give a penney to redeeme it.
I have liv'd ever free, onely depended
Upon the honestie of my faire Actions,
Nor am I now to studdy how to die soe.
_Bred_. Take better thoughts.
_Bar_. They are my first and last,
The legacie I leave my friends behind me.
I never knew to flatter, to kneele basely
And beg from him a smile owes me an honour.
Ye are wreatches, poore starv'd wreatches fedd on crumbs
That he flings to ye: from your owne aboundaunce
Wreatched and slavish people ye are becom
That feele the griping yoak and yet bow to it.
What is this man, this Prince, this God ye make now,
But what our hands have molded, wrought to fashion,
And by our constant labours given a life to?
And must we fall before him now, adoare him,
Blow all we can to fill his sailes with greatnes?
Worship the Image we set up ourselves?
Put fate into his hand? into his will
Our lives and fortunes? howle and crye to our owne clay
"Be mercifull, ô Prince?" ô, pittied people!
Base, base, poore patch men! You dare not heare this;
You have sold your eares to slavery; begon and flatter.
When ere your politick Prince putts his hooke into my nose
Here must he put his Sword too.
_Bred_. We lament ye.
[_Exeunt_.
_Enter the Son_.
_Son_. We are undon, Sir.
_Bar_. Why?
_Son_. For certaine perishd.
_Utrecht_ is taken in, _Modesbargen_ fled,
And _Leidenberge_ a Servant to their pleasures,--
A prisoner, Sir.
_Bar_. Ha!
_Son_. 'Tis too true.
_Bar_. A prisoner?
_Son_. And, some say, has byn tortured, reveald much,
Even all he knowes. No letters are against ye,
For those he burnt; but they have so much foold him
That his owne tongue--
_Bar_. He cannot be so boyish.
_Son_. My goverment of _Barghen_ is disposd of;
Their anger now against us all profest,
And in your ruyn all must fall.
_Bar_. A prisoner!
_Modesbargen_ fledd! I am glad he is scapt their fingers.
Now if the devill had but this _Leidenberge_
I were safe enough. What a dull foole was I,
A stupid foole, to wrap up such a secreat
In a sheepes hart! ô I could teare my flesh now
And beat my leaden braines!
_Son_. Faith, try the Prince, Sir;
You are at your last.
_Bar_. Art thou my Son? thou lyest;
I never got a Parasite, a Coward.
I seeke the Prince or bend in base submission!
Ile seeke my grave first. Yf I needes must fall
And that the fatall howre is cast of _Barnavelt_,
Just like a strong demolishd Tower ile totter
And fright the neighbour Cuntries with my murmour.
My ruyns shall reach all: the valiant Soldier,
Whose eies are unacquainted but with anger,
Shall weep for me because I fedd and noursd him;
Princes shall mourne my losse, and this unthanckfull,
Forgetful Cuntry, when I sleepe in ashes,
Shall feele and then confes I was a father.
[_Exeunt_.
SCAENA 2.
_Enter P. of Orange, William, Bredero, Vandort,
Lords, Collonells, Captaines_.
_Bred_. Will your Excellence please to sitt?
[_Table: Bell_.
_Or_. I am prowd your Lordships
So willingly restore me to that place
From which the envy of the Advocate
Of late hath forcd me. And that you may know,
How ere his mallice live to me, all hatred
Is dead in me to him, I am a Suitour
He may be sent for; for, as _Barnavelt_ is
A member of this body politique,
I honour him, and will not scorne to yeild
A strict accompt of all my Actions to him;
And, though my Enemie, while he continues
A frend to his owne fame and loyall to[167]
The State, I love him and shall greive that he,
When he falls from it must deserve my pitty.
_Vand_. This disposition in your Excellence
Do's well becom you, but would wrong our iudgements
To call one as a partner to these counsailes
That is suspected, and ev'n then when all
His dark designes and deepest purposes
Are to be sifted.
_Bred_. It were most unfit,
And therefore we entreat your Highnes to[167]
Presse it no further.
_Or_. My good lords, your pardon;
You are your owne disposers.--Gentlemen,
I shall a while entreat ye to forbeare
The troble that you put upon yourselves
In following me. I can need no defence here,
Being left among these whose grave counsailes ever
Have lookd out for my safetie. 'Tis your pleasure
And therefore I embrace it.
[_Exeunt Collonells & Captaines_.
_Vand_. Now, when you please,
Your Excellence may deliver what you have
Observ'd concerning the _Arminian_ faction,
What hopes and heads it had, for without question
It found more favorers, and great ones too,
Then yet we have discoverd.
_Or_. My grave Lords,
That it hath byn my happines to take in,
And with so litle blood, so many Townes
That were falne of, is a large recompence
For all my travell; and I would advise
That (since[168] all now sing the sweet tunes of Concord,
No Sword unsheathd, the meanes to hurt cut off,
And all their stings pluckd out that would have used them
Against the publique peace) we should end here
And not with labour search for that which will
Afflict us when 'tis found. Something I know
That I could wish I nere had understood,
Which yet if I should speake, as the respect
And duty that I owe my Cuntry binds me,
It wilbe thought 'tis rather privat spleene
Then pious zeale. But that is not the hazard
Which I would shun: I rather feare the men
We must offend in this, being great, rich, wise,
Sided with strong frends, trusted with the guard
Of places most important, will bring forth
Rather new births of tumult, should they be
Calld to their Triall, then appease disorder
In their iust punishment; and in doing Justice
On three or foure that are delinquents, loose
So many thousand inocents that stand firme
And faithfull patriots. Let us leave them therefore
To the scourge of their owne consciences: perhaps
Th'assurance that they are yet undiscoverd,
Because not cyted to their answeare, will
So work with them hereafter to doe well
That we shall ioy we sought no farther in it.
_Vand_. Such mild proceedings in a Goverment
New setled, whose maine strength had it's dependaunce
Upon the powre of some perticuler men,
Might be given way to, but in ours it were
Unsafe and scandalous: then the _Provinces_
Have lost their liberties, Justice hir Sword,
And we prepared a way for our owne ruyn
When for respect or favour unto any,
Of what condition soever, we
Palliat seditions and forbeare to call
Treason by hir owne name.
1 _Lord_. It must not be:
Such mercie to ourselves were tirranie.
2 _Lord_. Nor are we to consider who they are
That have offended, but what's the offence
And how it should be punishd, to deter
Others by the example.
_Bred_. Which we will doe;
And using that united powre which warrants
All we thinck fitt, we doe intreat your Highnes
(For willingly we would not say comaund you),
As you affect the safetie of the State
Or to preserve your owne deserved honours
And never-tainted loyaltie, to make knowne
All such as are suspected.
_Or_. I obey you;
And though I cannot give up certaine proofes
To point out the delinquents, I will name
The men the generall voice proclaimes for guiltie.
_Modesbargens_ flight assures him one, nor is
The pentionary of _Roterdam_[169] _Grotius_,
Free from suspition: from _Utrecht_ I have brought
The Secretarie _Leidenberge_, who hath
Confest alredy something that will give us
Light to find out the rest. I would end here
And leave out _Barnavelt_.
_Bred_. If he be guiltie
He's to be nam'd and punishd with the rest.
_Vand_. Upon good evidence, but not till then
To be committed.
_Will_. 'Twer expedient
That something should be practisd to bring in
_Modesbargen_. Out of him the truth of all
May be wroong out.
_Bred_. The advice is sound and good.
_Vand_. But with much difficultie to be performd;
For how to force him out of _Germanie_
(Whether they say hee's fledd) without a war,
At least the breaking of that league we have
Concluded with them, I ingeniously
Confes my ignoraunce.
_Or_. Since you approve it,
Leave that to me.
_Enter Officer_[170]
_Off_. My lord.
_Or_. Call in the Captaine
You saw me speake with at the dore.
_Off_. 'Tis don. [_Exit_.
_Bred_. What does your Excellence ayme at?
_Or_. Have but patience,
You shall know sodainely.
_Enter Captaine_.[171]
_Cap_. My good Angell keepe me
And turne it to the best.--What am I sent for?
_Or_. You are wellcom, Captaine; nay 'tis for your good
That you are calld for. You are well acquainted
With all the parts of _Germanie_?
_Cap_. I have livd there.
Most of my time.
_Or_. But doe you know the Castle
Belonging to _Modesbargens_ Aunt or Cosen,--
Which 'tis I know not?
_Cap_. Very well, my Lord;
A pleasant Cuntry 'tis, and yeilds good hunting.
_Bred_. And that's a sport _Modesbargen_ from his youth
Was much inclind to.
_Or_. Wee'll make use of it.
It is of waight that you must undertake,
And does require your secrecie and care.
_Cap_. In both I wilbe faithfull.
_Or_. I beleeve you;
And, to confirme it, with all possible speed
I would have you to post thether: from the Borders
Make choice of any horsemen you thinck fitt,
And, when you come there, devide them into parties
And lodge neere to the Castle. Yf _Modesbargen_
Come forth to hunt, or if at any time
You find the draw-bridge up, break in upon him
And willing or unwilling force him hether.
You shall have gold to furnish you, and this don
Propose your owne rewards, they shalbe graunted.
_Cap_. Yf I be wanting let my head pay for it;
Ile instantly about it. [_Exit_.
_Or_. Doe, and prosper.
_Will_. What will you do with _Leidenberge_?
_Bred_. Let him be
Kept safe a while: for _Barnavelt_, till we have
Some certaine proofes against him, I hold fitt
He have his libertie, but be suspended
From any place or voice in Court untill
His guilt or inocence appeere.
_Vand_. I like it.
_Lords_. We are all of your opinion.
_Or_. Bring in _Leidenberch_.
_Enter Leidenberch, Boy, Guard_.
_Boy_. Doe all theis, father, wayt on you?
_Leid_. Yes, Boy.
_Boy_. Indeed I doe not like their Countenaunces;
They looke as if they meant you litle good.
Pray you, put them away.
_Leid_. Alas, poore inocent,
It is for thee I suffer; for my self
I have set up my rest.
_Or_. Now, Mounseiur _Leidenberch_,
We send not for you, though your fault deserve it,
To load you with reproofe, but to advise you
To make use of the way we have found out
To save your life and honour. You already,
In free confession of your fault, have made
A part of satisfaction; goe on in it,
And you shall find a faire discovery
Of youre fowle purposes and th'agents in 'em
Will wyn more favour from theyr lordships to you
Then any obstinate deniall can doe.
_Leid_. All that I know I will deliver to you,
And beyond that your Excellence nor their Lordships
Will not, I hope, perswade me.
_Vand_. In the meane time
You are a prisoner.
_Boy_. Who? my father?
_Bred_. Yes, Boy.
_Boy_. Then I will be a prisoner, too. For heaven sake
Let me goe with him, for theis naughtie men
Will nere wayt on him well. I am usd to undresse him
When he's to goe to bed, and then read to him
Untill he be a sleepe, and then pray by him:
I will not leave him.
_Bred_. Why, thou shalt not, Boy.
Goe with thy father.
_Boy_. You are a good Lord,
Indeed I love you for't and will pray for you.
Come, father; now I must goe too, I care not.
While I am with you, you shall have no hurt,
Ile be your warrant.
_Leid_. I have lost myself,
But something I shall doe.
[_Exeunt Leid., Boy, Guard_.
_Or_. 'Tis time to rise;
And, if your Lordshipps please, we will defer
Our other busines to an other sitting.
_Vand_. In the meane time wee'll use all honest meanes
To sound the depth of this Confederacie,
In which Heaven's hand direct us and assist us.
[_Exeunt_.
SCAENA 3.
_Enter 2 Captaines_.[172]
1 _Cap_. This is a strange cutting time.
2 _Cap_. Let 'em cutt deep enough,
They will doe no great cure els. I wonder strangely
They carry such a gentle hand on _Leidenberch_
That any frends come to him.
1 _Cap_. 'Has confest much,
Beleeve it, and so far they feare him not,
They would be els more circumspect.