_Enter Genzerick King of the Vandalls, sicke on his
bed, Anthony, Damianus, Cosmo, and Lords_.
_King_. Away, leave off your golden Flatteries,
I know I cannot live, there's one lies here
Brings me the newes; my glories and my greatnes
Are come to nothing.
_Anth_. Be not your selfe the Bell
To tolle you to the Grave; and the good Fates,
For ought we see, may winde upon your bottome[132]
A thred of excellent length.
_Cosm_. We hope the Gods have not such rugged hands
To snatch yee from us.
_King_. _Cosmo, Damianus_, and _Anthony_; you upon whom
The _Vandall_ State doth leane, for my back's too weake;
I tell you once agen that surly Monarch,
Who treads on all Kings throats, hath sent to me
His proud Embassadours: I have given them Audience
Here in our Chamber Royall. Nor could that move me,
To meete Death face to face, were my great worke
Once perfected in _Affrick_ by my sonne;
I meane that generall sacrifice of Christians,
Whose blood would wash the Temples of our gods
And win them bow downe their immortall eyes
Upon our offerings. Yet, I talke not idly,
Yet, _Anthonie_, I may; for sleepe, I think,
Is gone out of my kingdome, it is else fled
To th'poore; for sleepe oft takes the harder bed
And leaves the downy pillow of a King.
_Cosm_. Try, Sir, if Musick can procure you[133] rest.
_King_. _Cosmo_, 'tis sinne to spend a thing so precious
On him that cannot weare it. No, no; no Musick;
But if you needs will charme my o're-watcht eyes,
Now growne too monstrous for their lids to close,
If you so long to fill these Musick-roomes
With ravishing sounds indeed; unclaspe that booke,
Turne o're that Monument of Martyrdomes,
Read there how _Genzerick_ has serv'd the gods
And made their Altars drunke with Christians blood,
Whil'st their loath'd bodies flung in funerall piles
Like Incense burnt in Pyramids of fire;
And when their flesh and bones were all consum'd
Their ashes up in whirle-winds flew i'th Ayre
To show that of foure Elements not one had care
Of them, dead or alive. Read, _Anthony_.
_Anth_. 'Tis swelld to a faire Volume.
_King_. Would I liv'd
To add a second part too't. Read, and listen:
No _Vandall_ ere writ such a Chronicle.
_Anth_. Five hundred[134] broyl'd to death in Oyle and Lead:
Seven hundred flead alive, their Carkasses
Throwne to King _Genzericks_ hounds.
_King_. Ha, ha, brave hunting.
_Anth_. Upon the great day of _Apollo's_ feast,
The fourth Moneth of your Reigne.
_King_. O give me more,
Let me dye fat with laughing.
_Anth_. Thirty faire Mothers, big with Christian brats,
Upon a scaffold in the Palace plac'd
Had first their dugges sear'd off, their wombes ript up,
About their miscreant heads their first borne Sonnes
Tost as a Sacrifice to _Jupiter_,
On his great day and the Ninth Month of _Genzerick_.
_King_. A Play; a Comicall Stage our Palace was.
Any more? oh, let me surfeit.
_Anth_. Foure hundred Virgins ravisht.
_King_. Christian Whores; common, 'tis common.
_Anth_. And then their trembling bodies tost on the Pikes
Of those that spoyl'd 'em, sacrific'd to _Pallas_.
_King_. More, more; hang Mayden-heads, Christian Maiden-heads.
_Anth_. This leafe is full of tortur'd Christians:
Some pauncht, some starv'd, some eyes and braines bor'd out,
Some whipt to death, some torne by Lyons.
_King_. _Damianus_, I cannot live to heare my service out;
Such haste the Gods make to reward me.
_Omnes_. Looke to the King. (_Shouts within_.)
_Enter Hubert_.
_King_. What shouts are these? see, _Cosmo_.
_Cosmo_. Good newes, my Lord; here comes _Hubert_ from the warres.
_Hub_. Long life and health wait ever on the King.
_King_. _Hubert_, thy wishes are come short of both.
Hast thou good newes? be briefe then and speake quickly:
I must else heare thee in another World.
_Hub_. In briefe, then, know: _Henrick_, your valiant sonne,
With _Bellizarius_ and my selfe come laden
With spoiles to lay them at your feet.
What lives the sword spar'd serve to grace your Triumph,
Till from your lips they have the doome of death.
_King_. What are they?
_Hub_. Christians, and their Chiefe a Church-man,
_Eugenius_, Bishop of _Carthage_, and with him
Seven hundred Captives more, all Christians.
_King_. Hold, Death; let me a little taste these ioyes,
Then take me ravisht hence. Glad mine eyes, _Hubert_,
With the victorious Boy.
_Hub_. Your Starre comes shining.
[_Exit Hubert_.
_King_. Lift me a little higher, yet more:
Doe the Immortall Powers poure blessings downe,
And shall I not returne them?
_Omnes_. See, they come.
_A Flourish; Enter Henricke the Prince, Bellizarius, Hubert,
leading Eugenius in Chaines with other Prisoners and Souldiers_.
_King_. I have now liv'd my full time; tell me, my _Henricke_,[135]
Thy brave successe, that my departing soule
May with the story blesse another world
And purchase me a passage.
_Hen_. O, great Sir,
All we have done dyes here if that you dye,
And heaven, before too prodigal to us,
Shedding beames over-glorious on our heads,
Is now full of Eclipses.
_King_. No, boy; thy presence
Has fetcht life home to heare thee.
_Hen_. Then, Royal Father, thus:
Before our Troopes had reacht the _Affrick_ bounds,
Wearied with tedious Marches and those dangers
Which waite on glorious Warre, the _Affricans_
A farre had heard our Thunder, whilst their Earth
Did feele an earth-quake in the peoples feares
Before our Drummes came near them. Yet, spight of terrour,
They fortifi'd their Townes, cloathed all their fields
With warres best bravery, armed Souldiers.
At this we made a stand, for their bold troopes
Affronted us with steele, dar'd us to come on
And nobly fierd our resolution.
_King_. So, hasten; there's in me a battaile too;
Be quicke, or I shall fall.
_Hen_. Forefend it heaven.
Now, _Bellizarius_, come; here stand, just here;
And on him, I beseech you, fixe your eye,
For you have much to pay to this brave man.
_Hub_. Nothing to me?
_Hen_. Ile give you him in wonder.
_Hub_. Hang him out in a painted cloth for a monster.
_Bel_. My Lord, wrong not your selfe to throw on me
The honours which are all yours.
_Hub_. Is he the Divell? all!
_Bel_. Cast not your eyes on me, Sir, but on him;
And seale this to your soule: never had King
A Sonne that did to his Crowne more honours bring.
_Hen_. Stay, _Bellizarius_; I'me too true to honour
To scant it in the blazing: though to thee
All that report can render leaves thee yet--
_Hub_. A brave man: you are so too, you both fought;
And I stood idle?
_Hen_. No, Sir.
_Hub_. Here's your battaile then, and here's your conquest:
What need such a coyle?
_Bel_. Yet, _Hubert_, it craves more Arethmaticke
Than in one figure to be found.
_King_. _Hubert_, thou art too busie.
_Hub_. So was I in the battaile.
_King_. Prethee peace.
_Hen_. The Almarado was on poynt to sound;
But then a Herald from their Tents flew forth,
Being sent to question us for what we came;
And [At?] which, I must confesse, being all on fire
We cryed for warre and death. Backe rode the Herald
As lightning had persu'd him. But the Captaines,
Thinking us tir'd with marching, did conceive
Rest would make difficult what easie now
Quicke charge might drive us to. So, like a storme
Beating upon a wood of lustie Pines,
Which though they shake they keepe their footing fast,
Our pikes their horses stood. Hot was the day
In which whole fields of men were swept away,
As by sharpe Sithes are cut the golden corne
And in as short time. It was this mans sword
Hew'd ways to danger; and when danger met him
He charm'd it thence, and when it grew agen
He drove it back agen, till at the length
It lost the field. Foure long hours this did hold,
In which more worke was done than can be told.
_Bel_. But let me tell your Father how the first feather
That Victory herselfe pluckt from her wings,
She stuck it in your Burgonet.
_Hub_. Brave still!
_Hen_. No, _Bellizarius_; thou canst guild thy honours
Borne[136] from the reeking breasts of _Affricans_,
When I aloof[137] stood wondering at those Acts
Thy sword writ in the battaile, which were such
Would make a man a souldier but to read 'em.
_Hub_. And what to read mine? is my booke claspt up?
_Bel_. No, it lyes open, where in texed letters read
Each Pioner [?] that your unseason'd valour
Had thrice ingag'd our fortunes and our men
Beyond recovery, had not this arme redeem'd you.
_Hub_. Yours?
_Bel_. For which your life was lost for doing more
Than from the Generals mouth you had command.
_Hub_. You fill my praise with froth, as Tapsters fill
Their cut-throat Cans; where, give me but my due,
I did as much as you, or you, or any.
_Bel_. Any?
_Hub_. Yes, none excepted.
_Bel_. The Prince was there.
_Hub_. And I was there: since you draw one another
I will turne Painter too and draw my selfe.
Was it not I that when the maine Battalia
Totter'd and foure great squadrons put to rout,
Then reliev'd them? and with this arme, this sword,
And this affronting brow put them to flight,
Chac'd em, slew thousands, tooke some few and drag'd em
As slaves, tyed to my saddle bow with Halters?
_Hen_. Yes, Sir, 'tis true; but, as he sayes, your fury
Left all our maine Battalia welnigh lost.
For had the foe but re-inforct againe
Our courages had beene seiz'd (?), any Ambuskado
Cut you and your rash troopes off; if--
_Hub_. What 'if'?
Envy, not honour, still inferres these 'ifs.'
It thriv'd and I returnd with Victory.
_Bel_. You?
_Hub_. I, _Bellizarius_, I; I found your troopes
Reeling and pale and ready to turne Cowards,
But you not in the head; when I (brave sir)
Charg'd in the Reere and shooke their battaile so
The Fever never left them till they fell.
I pulled the Wings up, drew the rascals on,
Clapt 'em and cry'd 'follow, follow.' This is the hand
First toucht the Gates, this foote first tooke the City;
This Christian Church-man snacht I from the Altar
And fir'd the Temple. 'Twas this sword was sheath'd
In panting bosomes both of young and old;
Fathers, sonnes, mothers, virgins, wives and widowes:
Like death I havocke cryed so long till I
Had left no monuments of life or buildings
But these poore ruins. What these brave Spirits did
Was like to this, I must confesse 'tis true,
But not beyond it.
_King_. You have done nobly all.
Nor let the Generall thinke I soyle his worth
In that I raise this forward youth so neare
Those honours he deserves from _Genzericke_;
For he may live to serve my _Henrick_ thus,
And growing vertue must not want reward.
You both allow these deeds he so much boasts of?
_Hen_. Yes, but not equal to the Generals.
_King_. The spoyles they equally shall both divide;
The Generall chuse, 'tis his prerogative.
_Bellizarius_ be Viceregent over all
Those conquerd parts of _Affrick_ we call ours;
_Hubert_ the Master of my _Henricks_ Horse
And President of what the _Goths_ possesse.
Let this our last will stand.
_Bel_. We are richly paid.
_Hub_. Who earnes it must have wages.
_King_. Ile see you imbrac'd too.
_Hub_. With all my heart.
_King_. And _Bellizarius_
Make him thy Scholler.
_Hub_. His Scholler!
_King_. There's stuffe in him
Which temper'd well would make him a noble fellow.
Now for these Prisoners: 'tis my best sacrifice
My pious zeale can tender to the Gods.
I censure thus: let all be naked stript,
Then to the midst of the vaste Wildernesse
That stands 'twixt us and wealthy _Persia_
They shall be driven, and there wildly venture
As Famine or the fury of the Beasts
Conspires to use them. Which is that Bishop?
_Hub_. Stand forth: this is _Eugenius_.
_Eug_. I stand forth
Daring all tortures, kissing Racks and Wheeles
And Flames, to whom I offer up this body.
You keepe us from our Crownes of Martyrdomes
By this delaying: dispatch us hence.
_King_. Not yet, Sir:
Away with them, stay him; and if our Gods
Can win this Christian Champion, now so stout,
To fight upon their sides, give him reward;
Our Gods will reach him praise.
_Eug_. Your Gods! wretched soules!
_King_. My worke is done; and, Henricke, as thou lov'st
Thy Fathers soule, see every thing perform'd.
This last iniunction tyes thee: so, farewell.
Let those I hated in thy hate still dwell,
I meane the Christians.
(_Dyes_.)
_Hen_. Oh, what a deale of greatnesse
Is struck down at one blow.
_Hub_. Give me a battell:
'Tis brave being struck downe there.
_Anth_. _Henrick_, my Lord,
And now my Soveraigne, I am by office bound
To offer to your Royall hands this Crowne
Which on my knees I tender, all being ready
To set it on your head.
_Omnes_. Ascend your throne:
Long live the King of _Vandals_ and of _Goths_,
The mighty _Henrick_.
_Hen_. What must now be done?
_Anth_. By me each Officer of State resignes
The Patten that he holds his office by,
To be dispos'd as best shall please your Grace.
_Hen_. And I returne them back to all their trusts.
I rise in clouds, my Morning is begun
From the eternall set of a bright sunne.
[_Exeunt_.
(SCENE 2.)
_Drumnel flourish: Enter Victoria and Bellina with servants_.
To gratulate his safe and wisht Arrival.
Let Musick with her sweet-tongu'd Rhetorick
Take out those horrours which the loud clamoures
Of Warres harsh harmony hath long besieg'd
His tender sences with. Your Father's come, _Bellina_.
_Bell_. I feele the ioy of it with you, sweet Mother,
And am as ready to receive a blessing from him
As you his chaste imbraces.
_Vic_. So, so, bestirre;
Let all our loves and duties be exprest
In our most diligent and active care.
_Enter Bellizarius_.
Here comes my comfort-bringer,
My _Bellizarius_.
_Belliz_. Dearest _Victoria_;
My second ioy, take thou a Fathers blessing.
_Vic_. Not wounded, Sir, I hope?
_Belliz_. No, _Victoria_;
Those were Rewards that we bestow'd on others;
We gave, but tooke none backe. Had we not you
At home to heare our noble Victories
Our Fame should want her Crowne, although she flew
As high as yonder Axle tree above
And spred in latitude throughout the world.
We have subdu'd those men of strange beleefe
Which Christians call themselves; a race of people
--This must I speake of them--as resolute
And full of courage in their bleeding falls
As should they tryumph for a Victory.
When the last groanes of many thousand mett
And like commixed Whirlwindes fill'd our eares.
As it from us rais'd not a dust of pitty
So did it give no terrour to the rest
That did but live to see their fellows dye.
In all our rigours and afflicting tortures
We cannot say that we the men subdu'd,
Because their ioy was louder than our conquest.
And still more worke of blood we must expect;
Like _Hydra's_ Heads by cutting off they double;
As seed that multiplies, such are their dead--
Next Moone a sheafe of Christians in ones stead.
_Vic_. This is a bloody Trade, my _Bellizarius_;
Would thou wouldst give it over.
_Belliz_. 'Tis worke, _Victoria_, that must be done.
These are the battailes of our blessing,
Pleasing gods and goddesses who for our service
Render us these Conquests.
Our selves and our affaires we may neglect,
But not our Deities, which these Christians
Prophane deride and scoffe at; would new Lawes
Bring in and a new God make.
_Vic_. No, my Lord;
I have heard say they never make their Gods,
But they serve 'em, they say, that did make them:
All made-gods they dispise.
_Belliz_. Tush, tush, _Victoria_, let not thy pitty
Turne to passions; they'le not deserve thy sorrow.
How now? What's the newes?
_Enter a Souldier_.
_Sold_. Strange, my Lord, beyond a wonder,
For 'tis miraculous. Since you forsooke
The bloody fight and horrour of the Christians,
One tortur'd wretch, whose sight was quite extinct,
His eyes no farther seeing than his hands,
Is now by that _Eugenius_, whom they call
Their holy Bishop, cleerely restor'd again
To the astonishment of all your Army,
Who faintly now recoyle with feare and terrour
Not daring to offend so great a power.
_Belliz_. Ha! 'tis strange thou tell'st me.
_Vic_. Oh, take heed, my Lord;
It is no warring against heavenly Powers
Who can command their Conquest when they please.
They can forbeare the Gyants that throw stones,
And smile upon their follies; but when they frowne
Their angers fall downe perpendicular
And strike their weake Opposer into nothing:
The Thunder tells us so.
_Belliz_. Pray leave me all; I shall have company
When you are gone, enough to fill the roome.
_Vic_. The holiest powers give thee their best direction.
[_Exeunt: Manet Bellizarius_.
_Belliz_. What power is that can fortifie a man
To ioy in death, since all we can expect
Is but fruition of the ioyes of life?
If Christians hoped not to become immortall
Why should they seeke for death?
O, then instruct me some Divine power;
Thou that canst give the sight unto the blind,
Open my blind iudgement _Thunder: Enter an Angel_.
That I may see a way to happinesse.
Ha, this is a dreadfull answer; this may chide
The relapse in my blood that 'gins to faint
From[138] further persecution of these people.
Oh shall I backe and double tyranny? (_Thunder_.)
A louder threat[e]ning! oh mould these voyces
Into articulate words, that I may know
Thy meaning better. Shall I quench the flames
Of blood and vengeance, and my selfe become
A penetrable Christian? my life lay downe
Amongst their sufferings? (_Musicke_.)
Ha, these are sweet tunes.
_Ang_. _Bellizarius_!
_Belliz_. It names me, too.
_Ang_. Sheath up thy cruelty; no more pursue
In bloody forrage these oppressed Christians,
For now the Thunder will take their part.
Remaine in peace and Musicke is thy banquet,
Or thy selfe number 'mongst their martyring groanes
And thou art numbred with these blessed ones.
_Belliz_. What heavenly voyce is this? shall my eares onely
Be blest with raptures, not mine eyes enioy
The sight of that Celestiall presence
From whence these sweet sounds come?
_Ang_. Yes, thou shalt see; nay, then, 'tis lost agen.
(_Bel. kneeles_.)
Rise; this is enough; be constant Souldier:
Thy heart's a Christian, to death persever
And then enioy the sight of Angels ever.
[_Exit_.
_Belliz_. Oh, let me flye into that happy place.
Prepare your tortures now, you scourge of Christians,
For _Bellizarius_ the Christians torturer;
Centuple all that I have ever done;
Kindle the fire and hacke at once with swords;
Teare me by piece-meales, strangle, and extend
My every limbe and ioynt; nay, devise more
Than ever did my bloody Tyrannies.
Oh let me ever lose the sight of men
That I may see an Angell once agen.
[_Exit_.
_Actus Secundus_.
(SCENE I.)
_Enter Hubert and Damianus_.
_Hub_. For[139] looke you, _Damianus_, though _Henricke_, now king, did
in the battaile well and _Bellizarius_ enough for a Generall, did not I
tell 'em home?
_Dam_. I heard it.
_Hub_. They shall not make bonefires of their owne glories and set up
for me a poore waxe candle to shew mine. I am full of Gold now: what
shall I doe with it, _Damianus_?
_Dam_. What doe Marriners after boone voyages, but let all flye; and
what Souldiers, when warres are done, but fatten peace?
_Hub_. Pox of Peace! she has churles enough to fatten her. I'll make a
Shamoyes Doublet, embroydered all over with flowers of gold. In these
dayes a woman will not looke upon a man if he be not brave. Over my
Doublet a _Soldado_ Cassacke of Scarlet, larded thicke with Gold Lace;
Hose of the same, cloake of the same, too, lasht up this high and richly
lined. There was a Lady, before I went, was working with her needle a
Scarffe for mee; but the Wagtaile has left her nest.
_Dam_. No matter; there's enough such birds everywhere.
_Hub_. Yes, women are as common as glasses in Tavernes, and often drunke
in and more often crackt. I shall grow lazy if I fight not; I would
faine play with halfe a dozen Fencers, but it should be at sharpe.[140]
_Dam_. And they are all for foyles.
_Hub_. Foyl'd let 'em be then.
_Dam_. You have had fencing enough in the field, and for women the
Christians fill'd[141] your markets.
_Hub_. Yes, and those markets were our Shambles. Flesh enough!
It made me weary of it. Since I came home
I have beene wondrous troubled in my sleepes,
And often heard to sigh in dead of night
As if my heart would cracke. You talk of Christians:
Ile tell you a strange thing, a kind of melting in
My soule, as 'twere before some heavenly fire,
When in their deaths (whom they themselves call Martyrs)
It was all rocky. Nothing, they say, can soften
A Diamond but Goates blood;[142] they perhaps were Lambs
In whose blood I was softened.
_Dam_. Pray tell how.
_Hub_. I will: after some three hours being in _Carthage_
I rusht into a Temple. Starr'd all with lights;
Which with my drawne sword rifling, in a roome
Hung full of Pictures, drawne so full of sweetnesse
They struck a reverence in me, found I a woman,
A Lady all in white; the very Candles
Took brightnesse from her eyes and those cleare Pearles
Which in aboundance falling on her cheekes
Gave them a lovely bravery. At my rough entrance
She shriek'd and kneel'd, and holding up a paire
Of Ivory fingers begg't that I would not
(Though I did kill) dishonour her, and told me
She would pray for me. Never did Christian
So near come to my heart-strings; I let my Sword
Fall from me, stood astonish't, and not onely
Sav'd her my selfe but guarded her from others.
_Dam_. Done like a Souldier.
_Hub_. Blood is not ever
The wholsom'st Wine to drinke. Doubtlesse these Christians
Serve some strange Master, and it needes must bee
A wonderfull sweete wages which he paies them;
And though men murmour, get they once here footing,
Then downe goes our Religion, downe our Altars,
And strange things be set up.--I cannot tell:
We, held so pure, finde wayes enough to hell.
Fall out what can, I care not; Ile to _Bellizarius_.
_Dam_. Will you? pray carry to him my best wishes.
_Hub_. I can carry anything but Blowes, Coles,[143] my Drink, and that
clapper of the Divell, the tongue of a Scould. Farewell.
[_Exeunt_.
(SCENE 2.)
_Flourish: Enter the King, Antony, Cosmo, all about
the King, and Bellizarius_.
_King_. They swarme like Bees about us, insomuch
Our People cannot sacrifice nor give Incense
But with interruptions; they still are buzzing thus,
Saying: Their Gods delight not in vaine showes
But intellectual thoughts pure and unstain'd,
Therefore reduce them from their heresies
Or build our prison walls with Christians bones.
What thinkes our _Bellizarius_, he that was wont
To be more swift to execute than we to command?
Why sits not _Bellizarius_?
_Belliz_. I dare not.
_King_. Protect me, Iove! Who dare gainesay it?
_Belliz_. I must not.
_King_. Say we command it?
_Belliz_. Truth is, I neither can nor will.
_Omn_. Hee's mad.
_Belliz_. Yes, I am mad
To see such Wolvish Tyrants as you are
Pretend a Justice and condemne the iust.
Oh you white soules that hover in the aire,
Who through my blindnesse were made death his[144] prey;
Be but appeas'd, you spotlesse Innocents,
Till with my blood I have made a true atonement,
And through those tortures, by this braine devis'd,
In which you perisht, I may fall as you
To satisfie your yet fresh bleeding memories
And meete you in that garden where content
Dwels onely. I, that in blood did glory,
Will now spend blood to heighten out your story.
_Anton_. Why, _Bellizarius_--
_Belliz_. Hinder me not:
I'me in a happy progresse, would not change my guest
Nor be deterr'd by Moles and Wormes that cannot see
Such as you are. Alas, I pitty you.
_Dam_. The King's in presence.
_Belliz_. I talke of one that's altitudes above him,
That owes[145] all Principalities: he is no King
That keepes not his decrees, nor am I bound
In duty to obey him in unwist acts.
_King_. All leave the roome.
_Omnes_. We obey your highnesse.
[_Exeunt Lords_.
_King_. Sir, nay. Sir; good _Bellizarius_.
_Belliz_. In that I doe obey.
_King_. Doe you make scruple, then, of our command?
_Belliz_. Yes, Sir, where the act's unjust and impure.
_King_. Why, then, are we a king, if not obey'd?
_Belliz_. You are plac'd on earth but as a Substitute
To a Diviner being as subiects are to you;
And are so long a king to be obey'd
As you are iust.
_King_. Good _Bellizarius_, wherein doe I digresse?
Have I not made thee great, given thee authority
To scourge those mis-beleevers, those wild Locusts
That thus infect our Empire with their Scismes?
The World is full of _Bellizarius_ deedes.
Succeeding times will Canonize thy Acts
When they shall read what great ones thou hast done
In honour of us and our sacred gods;
For which, next unto _Iove_, they gave a Laurell
To _Bellizarius_, whose studious braine
Fram'd all these wracks and tortures for these Christians.
Hast thou not all our Treasure in thy power?
Who but your selfe commands as [us?], _Bellizarius_?
Then whence, my _Bellizarius_, comes this change?
_Belliz_. Poore King, I sorrow for thy weakned sence,
Wishing thy eye-sight cleare that Eagle-like,
As I doe now, thou might'st gaze on the Sunne,
The Sunne of brightnesse, Sunne of peace, of plenty.
Made you me great in that you made me miserable,
Thy selfe more wretched farre? in that thy hand
The Engine was to make me persecute
Those Christian soules whom I have sent to death,
For which I ever, ever shall lament?
_King_. Ha, what's this?--Within there!
_Belliz_. Nay, heare me, _Henrick_, and when thou hast heard me out
With _Bellizarius_ thinke that thou art blest
If that with me thou canst participate.
_King_. Thou art mad.
_Belliz_. No; 'tis thou art mad,
And with thy frenzie make this Kingdome franticke.
Forgive me, thou great Power in whom I trust,
Forgive me, World, and blot out all my deeds
From those black Kalends; else, when I lye dead,
My Name will ever lie in obliquie.
Is it a Sinne that can make great men good?
Is prophanation turn'd to sanctity,
Vices to vertues? if such disorder stand
Then _Bellizarius_ Acts may be held iust;
Otherwise nothing.
_King_. Some Furie hath possest my _Bellizarius_
That thus he railes. Oh, my dearest,
Call on great _Iupiter_.
_Belliz_. Alas, poore Idoll!
On him! on him that is not, unlesse made:
Had I your _Iove_ I'de tosse him in the Ayre,
Or sacrifice him to his fellow-gods
And see what he could doe to save himselfe.
You call him Thunderer, shaker of _Olympus_,
The onely and deare Father of all gods;
When silly love is shooke with every winde,
A fingers touch can hurle him from his Throne.
Is this a thing to be ador'd or pray'd too?
_King_. My love turnes now to rage.--Attendance there,
_Enter all the Lords_.
And helpe to binde this mad man, that's possest!--
By the powers that we adore thou dyest.
_Belliz_. Here me, thou ignorant King, you dull-brain'd Lords,
Oh heare me for your owne sakes, for your soules sake:
Had you as many gods as you have dayes,
As once the _Assyrians_ had, yet have yee nothing.
Such service as they gave such you may give,
And have reward as had the blinde _Molossians_:
A Toad one day they worship; one of them drunke
A health with 's god and poyson'd so himselfe.
Therefore with me looke up, and as regenerate soules--
_Dam_. Can you suffer this?
This his affront will scare up the devotion
Of all your people. He that persecuted
Become a convertite!
_Belliz_. 'Tis ioy above my ioy: oh, had you scene
What these eyes saw, you would not then
Disswade me from it; nor will I leave that power
By whom I finde such infinite contentments.
_Hen_. _Epidophorus_; your eare:--see't done.
_Epi_. It shall, my Lord.
[_Exit Epi_.
_Hen_. Then by the gods
And all the powers the _Vandals_ doe adore,
Thou hast not beene more terrible to the world
Than to thy selfe I now will make thee.
_Belliz_. I dare thy worst;
I have a Christian armour to protect me.
You cannot act so much as I will suffer.
_Hen_. Ile try your patience
_Enter Epido, two Christians and officers_.
_Epi_. 'Tis done, my Lord, as you directed.
_Hen_. They are come:
Make signes you'le yet deny your Christianity (_They make signes_.)
And kneele with us to sacred _Iupiter_.
No? make them then a Sacrifice to _Iupiter_
For all the wrongs by _Bellizarius_ done.
Dispatch, I say; to the fire with them.
_Belliz_. Alas, good men! tonguelesse? you'le yet be heard;
The sighes of your tun'd soules are musicall,
And whil'st I breath, as now my tears I shed,
My prayers He send up for you; 'twas I that mangl'd you.
How soone the bodies Organ leaves the sound!
The Life's next too't; a Needles point ends that,
A small thing does it. Now you have quiet roomes
No wrangling, all husht. Now make me a fellow
In this most patient suffering.
_Hen_. Beare them unto the fire, and place him neere
To fright him.
(_Flourish.)_
_Belliz_. On, fellow Souldiers!
Your fires will soon be quencht, and for your wrongs
You shall, above, all speake with Angels tongues.
[_Exeunt_.
(SCENE 3.)
_Enter Clowne, Constable and three watchmen_.
_Clown_. You[146] that are borne Pagans both by father and mother, the
true sonnes of Infidelity, sit downe by me your officiall, or to come
nearer to the efficacy of the word, your undermost Iaylor or staller;
--the word is Lordly and significant.
_Omnes_. O brave Master, yfaith.
_Clowne_. Therefore sit downe; and as by vertue of our place we have
Authority given, so let us as officers doe, knaves of our function as
of others; let us, I say, be unbounded in our Authority, having the
Lawes, I meane the Keyes, in our owne hands.
_Const_. Friend, friend, you are too forward in your Authority; your
command is limited where I am in place: for though you are the
Lieutenants man know, sir, that I am Master of the worke and Constable
Royall under the Kings Maiesty.
_Omnes_. Marry is hee.
_Const_. If their testimonie will not satisfie, here my Title: At this
place, in this time, and upon this occasion I am Prince over these
Publicans, Lord over these Larroones,[147] Regent of these Rugs,[148]
Viceroy over these Vagabonds, King of these Caterpillars; and indeed,
being a Constable, directly Soveraigne over these my Subiects.
2 _Off_. If all these stiles, so hard to climbe over, belong to the
office of a Constable, what kin is he to the Divell?
_Const_. Why to the Devill, my friend?
_Clown_. Ile tell you: because a Constable is King of Nights and the
other is Prince of Darknesse.
_Const_. Darke as it is, by the twilight of my Lanthorne methinks I see
a company of Woodcocks.
_2 Off_. How can you discerne them?
_Enter Epidophorus, Victoria and Bellina_.
_Clown_. Oh excellent well, by their bills: see, see, here comes the
Lieutenant.
_Epi_. Well sayd, my friends: you keep good watch, I see.
_Clown_. Yes, Sir, we Officers have breath as strong as Garlick: no
Christian by their good wills dare come neare us.
_Epi_. 'Tis well, forbeare.--
Oh, Madam, had you scene with what a vehemency
He did blaspheme the gods,
Like to a man pearcht on some lofty Spire
Amazed which way to relieve himselfe,
You would have stood, as did the King, amaz'd.
_Vict_. God grant him liberty,
And with that give us privacy; I doubt not
But our sweet conference shall work much on him.
_Epi_. _Iove_ grant it: Ile leave the roome.
[_Exit Epi_.
_Clown_. A Iaylor seldome lookes for a bribe but hee's prevented.
[_Exeunt Officers_.
_Enter Bellizarius in his night-gown, with Epidophorus_.
_Epi_. My Lord, your Lady and her most beauteous daughter
Are come to visit you, and here attend.
_Belliz_. My Wife and Daughter? oh welcome, love,
And blessing Crowne thee, my beloved _Bellina_.
_Vict_. My Lord, pray leave us.
_Epi_. Your will be your owne Law.
[_Exit Epidoph_.
_Vict_. Why study you, my Lord? why is your eye fixt
On your _Bellina_ more than on me?
_Belliz_. Good, excellent good:
What pretty showes our fancies represent us!
My faire _Bellina_ shines like to an Angel;
Has such a brightnesse in her Christall eyes
That even the radiancy duls my sight.
See, my _Victoria_, lookes she not sweetly?
_Vict_. Shee does, my Lord; but not much better than she was wont.
_Belliz_. Oh shee but beginnes to shine as yet,
But will I hope ere long be stellified.
Alas, my _Victoria_, thou look'st nothing like her.
_Vict_. Not like her? why, my Lord?
_Belliz_. Marke and Ile tell thee how:
Thou art too much o'er growne with sinne and shame,
Hast pray'd too much, offered too much devotion
To him and those that can nor helpe nor hurt,
Which my _Bellina_ has not:
Her yeares in sinne are not, as thine are, old;
Therefore me thinks she's fairer farre than thou.
_Vict_. I, my Lord, guided by you and by your precepts,
Have often cal'd on _Iupiter_.
_Belliz_. I, there's the poynt:
My sinnes like Pullies still drew me downewards:
'Twas I that taught thee first to Idolize,
And unlesse that I can with-draw thy mind
From following that I did with tears intreat,
I'me lost, for ever lost, lost in my selfe and thee.
Oh, my _Bellina_!
_Bellina_. Why, Sir!
Shall we not call on _Iove_ that gives us food,
By whom we see the heavens have all their Motions?
_Belliz_. Shee's almost lost too: alas! my Girle,
There is a higher _Iove_ that rules 'bove him.
Sit, my _Victoria_, sit, my faire _Bellina_,
And with attention hearken to my dreame:
Methought one evening, sitting on a fragrant Virge,
Close by there ranne a silver gliding streame:
I past the Rivolet and came to a Garden,
A Paradise, I should say (for lesse it could not be);
Such sweetnesse the world contains not as I saw;
_Indian Aramaticks_ nor _Arabian_ Gummes
Were nothing sented unto this sweet bower.
I gaz'd about, and there me thought I saw
Conquerors and Captives, Kings and meane men;
I saw no inequality in their places.
Casting mine eye on the other side the Palace,
Thousands I saw my selfe had sent to death;
At which I sigh'd and sob'd, I griev'd and groan'd.
Ingirt with Angels were those glorious Martyrs
Whom this ungentle hand untimely ended,
And beckon'd to me as if heaven had said,
"Beleeve as they and be thou one of them";
At which my heart leapt, for there me thought I saw,
As I suppos'd, you two like to the rest:
With that I wak'd and resolutely vow'd
To prosecute what I in thought had seene.
_Bellina_. 'Twas a sweet dreame; good Sir, make use of it.
_Vict_. And I with _Bellizarius_ am resolv'd
To undergoe the worst of all afflictions,
Where such a glory bids us to performe.
_Belliz_. Now blessings crowne yee both
The first stout Martyr has[149] his glorious end
Though stony-hard yet speedy; when ours comes
I shall tryumph in our affliction.
This adds some comfort to my troubled soule:
I, that so many have depriv'd of breath,
Shall winne two soules to accompany me in death.
[_Exeunt_.
_Actus Tertius_.
_Enter Clowne and Huntsmen severally_.