Chapter XVIII: Act IV: , Scene I

_Enter_ VOTARIUS, _with_ ANSELMUS'S _Lady_.

VOT. Pray, forgive me, madam; come, thou shalt!

WIFE. I' faith, 'twas strangely done, sir.

VOT. I confess it.

WIFE. Is that enough to help it, sir? 'tis easy
To draw a lady's honour in suspicion,
But not so soon recover'd, and confirm'd
To the first faith again, from whence you brought it:
Your wit was fetch'd out about other business,
Or such forgetfulness had never seiz'd you.

VOT. 'Twas but an overflowing, a spring tide
In my affection, rais'd by too much love;
And that's the worst words you can give it, madam.

WIFE. Jealous of me?

VOT. You'd 've sworn yourself, madam,
Had you been in my body, and chang'd cases,
To see a fellow with a guilty pace
Glide through the room, his face three-quarters nighted,
As if a deed of darkness had hung on him.

WIFE. I tell you twice, 'twas my bold woman's friend:
Hell take her impudence!

VOT. Why, I have done, madam.

WIFE. You've done too late, sir. Who shall do the rest now?
Confess'd me yielding! was thy way too free?
Why, didst thou long to be restrain'd? Pray, speak, sir!

VOT. A man cannot cosen you of the sin of weakness,
Or borrow it of a woman for one hour,
But how he's wonder'd at! when search your lives,
We shall ne'er find it from you; we can suffer you
To play away your days in idleness,
And hide your imperfections with our loves,
Or the most part of you would appear strange creatures;
And now 'tis but our chance to make an offer,
And snatch at folly running: yet to see,
How earnest you're against us, as if we'd robb'd you
Of the best gift your natural mother left you.

WIFE. Tis worth a kiss, i' faith, and thou shalt hav't,
Were there not one more left for my lord's supper:
And now, sir, I've bethought myself.

VOT. That's happy!

WIFE. You say we're weak; but the best wits of you all
Are glad of our advice, for ought I see
And hardly thrive without us.

VOT. I'll say so too,
To give you encouragement, and advance your virtues.
'Tis not good always to keep down a woman.

WIFE. Well, sir, since you've begun to make my lord
A doubtful man of me, keep on that course,
And ply his faith still with that poor belief,
That I'm inclining unto wantonness,
Take heed you pass no further now.

VOT. Why, dost think
I'll be twice mad together in one moon?
That were too much for any freeman's son
After his father's funeral.

WIFE. Well then thus, sir:
Upholding still the same, as being embolden'd
By some loose glance of mine, you shall attempt,
After you've plac'd my lord in some near closet,
To thrust yourself into my chamber rudely,
As if the game went forward to your thinking,
Then leave the rest to me. I'll so reward thee
With bitterness of words, but (prythee, pardon me)
My lord shall swear me into honesty
Enough to serve his mind all his life after;
Nay, for a need, I'll draw some rapier forth,
That shall come near my hand as 'twere by chance,
And set a lively face upon my rage;
But fear thou nothing: I too dearly love thee
To let harm touch thee.

VOT. O, it likes me rarely,
I'll choose a precious time for it. [_Exit_ VOTARIUS.

WIFE. Go thy ways; I'm glad I had it for thee.

_Enter_ LEONELLA.

LEO. Madam, my lord entreats your company.

WIFE. Pshaw, ye!

LEO. Pshaw, ye! My lord entreats your company.

WIFE. What now?
Are ye so short-heel'd?

LEO. I am as my betters are, then.

WIFE. How came you by such impudence a-late, minion?
You're not content to entertain your playfellow
In your own chamber closely, which I think
Is large allowance for a lady's woman;
There's many a good man's daughter is in service,
And cannot get such favour of her mistress,
But what she has by stealth; she and the chambermaid
Are glad of one between them, and must you
Give such bold freedom to your long-nos'd fellow,
That every room must take a taste of him?

LEO. Does that offend your ladyship?

WIFE. How think you, forsooth?

LEO. Then he shall do't again.

WIFE. What?

LEO. And again, madam:
So often, till it please your ladyship;
And when you like it, he shall do't no more.

WIFE. What's this?

LEO. I know no difference, virtuous madam,
But in love all have privilege alike.

WIFE. You're a bold quean.

LEO. And are not you my mistress?

WIFE. This is well, i' faith.

LEO. You spare not your own flesh, no more than I;
Hell take me, an' I spare you.

WIFE. O, the wrongs
That ladies do their honours, when they make
Their slaves familiar with their weaknesses;
They're ever thus rewarded for that deed;
They stand in fear e'en of the grooms they feed.
I must he forc'd to speak my woman fair now,
And be first[468] friends with her--nay, all too little.
She may undo me at her pleasure else;
She knows the way so well, myself not better,
My wanton folly made a key for her
To all the private treasure of my heart;
She may do what she list [_Aside_]. Come, Leonella.
I am not angry with thee.

LEO. Pish!

WIFE. Faith, I am not.

LEO. Why, what care I, an' you be!

WIFE. Prythee, forgive me?

LEO. I have nothing to say to you.

WIFE. Come, thou shalt wear this jewel for my sake,
A kiss and friends: we'll never quarrel more.

LEO. Nay, choose you, faith; the best is, an' you do,
You know who'll have the worst on't.

WIFE. True, myself. [_Aside._

LEO. Little thinks she, I have set her forth already;
I please my lord, yet keep her in awe too. [_Aside._

WIFE. One thing I had forgot; I prythee, wench,
Steal to Votarius closely, and remember him
To wear some privy armour then about him,
That I may feign a fury without fear.

LEO. Armour! when, madam?

WIFE. See now, I chid thee
When I least thought upon thee; thou'rt my best hand;
I cannot be without thee. Thus then, sirrah:
To beat away suspicion from the thoughts
Of under-listening servants 'bout the house,
I have advis'd Votarius at fit time
Boldly to force his way into my chamber,
The admittance being denied him, and the passage
Kept strict by thee, my necessary woman.
(La! there I should have miss'd thy help again!)
At which attempt I'll take occasion
To dissemble such an anger, that the world
Shall ever after swear us to their thoughts
As clear and free from any fleshly knowledge,
As nearest kindred are, or ought to be,
Or what can more express it, if that fail'd.

LEO. You know I'm always at your service, madam,
But why some privy armour?

WIFE. Marry, sweetheart,
The best is yet forgotten; thou shalt have
A weapon in some corner of the chamber,
Yonder, or there--

LEO. Or anywhere: why, i' faith, madam,
Do you think I'm to learn how[469] to hang a weapon?
As much as I'm incapable of what follows!
I've all your mind without book: think it done, madam.

WIFE. Thanks, my good wench, I'll never call thee worse.

[_Exit_ WIFE.

LEO. Faith, you're like to have't again, an' you do, madam.

_Enter_ BELLARIUS.

BEL. What, art alone?

LEO. Curse me, what makes you here, sir?
You're a bold long-nos'd fellow.

BEL. How!

LEO. So my lady says.
Faith, she and I have had a bout for you, sir,
But she got nothing by't.

BEL. Did not I say still, thou wouldst be too adventurous!

LEO. Ne'er a whit, sir. I made her glad to seek my friendship first.

BEL. By my faith, that show'd well; if you come off
So brave a conqueress, to't again, and spare not,
I know not which way you should get more honour.

LEO. She trusts me now to cast a mist, forsooth,
Before the servants' eyes. I must remember
Votarius to come once with privy armour
Into her chamber, when with a feign'd fury
And rapier drawn, which I must lay a-purpose
Ready for her dissemblance, she will seem
T' act wonders for her juggling honesty.

BEL. I wish no riper vengeance! can'st conceive me?
Votarius is my enemy.

LEO. That's stale news, sir.

BEL. Mark what I say to thee! forget of purpose
That privy armour; do not bless his soul
With so much warning, nor his hated body
With such sure safety. Here express thy love;
Lay some empoisoned weapon next her hand,
That in that play he may be lost for ever;
I'd have him kept no longer, away with him.
One touch will set him flying: let him go.

LEO. Bribe me but with a kiss; it shall be so. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ TYRANT, _wondrous discontentedly_. NOBLES _afar off_.

1ST NOBLE. My lord!

TYR. Begone, or never see life more!
I'll send thee far enough from court. Memphonius!
Where's he now?

MEM. Ever at your highness' service.

TYR. How dar'st thou be so near, when we have threaten'd
Death to thy fellow? Have we lost our power,
Or thou thy fear? Leave us in time of grace:
'Twill be too late anon.

MEM. I think 'tis so with thee already. [_Aside._

TYR. Dead! And I so healthful!
There's no equality in this. Stay!

MEM. Sir!

TYR. Where is that fellow brought the first report to us?

MEM. He waits without.

TYR. I charge thee give command,
That he be executed speedily,
As thou'lt stand firm thyself.

MEM. Now, by my faith,
His tongue has help'd his neck to a sweet bargain.

[_Exit_ MEMPHONIUS.

TYR. Her own fair hand so cruel! Did she choose
Destruction before me? was I no better?
How much am I exalted to my face,
And when I would be grac'd, how little worthy!
There's few kings know how rich they are in goodness,
Or what estate they have in grace and virtue:
There is so much deceit in glosers' tongues,
The truth is taken from us; we know nothing
But what is for their purpose. That's our stint;
We are allow'd no more. O wretched greatness!
I'll cause a sessions for my flatterers,
And have them all hang'd up. 'Tis done too late.
O, she's destroy'd, married to death and silence,
Which nothing can divorce--riches nor laws,
Nor all the violence that this frame can raise.
I've lost the comfort of her sight for ever,
I cannot call this life that flames within me,
But everlasting torment lighted up,
To show my soul her beggary. A new joy
Is come to visit me in spite of death!
It takes me of that sudden, I'm asham'd
Of my provision, but a friend will bear. Within there!

_Enter_ SOLDIERS.

1ST SOL. Sir?

2D SOL. My lord!

TYR. The men I wish'd for for secresy and employment.
Go, give order that Govianus be releas'd.

4TH SOL. Releas'd, sir?

TYR. Set free; and then I trust he will fly the kingdom,
And never know my purpose. Run, sir!
[_Exit_ 4TH SOLDIER.
You
Bring me the keys of the cathedral.

1ST SOL. Are you so holy now, do you curse all day,
And go to pray at midnight? [_Aside and Exit._

TYR. Provide you, sirs, close lanthorns and a pickaxe.
Away: be speedy.

2D SOL. Lanthorns and a pickaxe?
Does he mean to bury himself alive too?

[_Exeunt_ 2D _and_ 3D SOLDIERS.

TYR. Death nor the marble prison my love sleeps in,
Shall keep her body lock'd up from mine arms,
I must not be so cosen'd; though her life
Was like a widow's state, made o'er in policy
To defeat me and my too confident heart;
'Twas a most cruel wisdom to herself,
As much to me that lov'd her. What, return'd?

_Enter_ 1ST SOLDIER.

1ST SOL. There be the keys, my lord.

TYR. I thank thy speed;
Here comes the rest full-furnish'd. Follow me,
And wealth shall follow you.

_Enter_ 2D _and_ 3D SOLDIERS.

1ST SOL. Wealth! by this light,
We go to rob a church; I hold my life
The money will ne'er thrive; that's a sure saw:
What's got from grace, is ever spent in law.

2D SOL. What strange fits grow upon him here a-late!
His soul has got a very dreadful leader.
What should he make in the cathedral now,
The hour so deep in night? all his intents
Are contrary to man in spirit or blood.
He, waxes heavy in his noble mind;
His moods are such they cannot bear the weight,
Nor will not long, if there be truth in whispers?
The honourable father of the state,
Noble Helvetius, all the lords agree
By some close policy shortly to set free. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_Enter the_ TYRANT [_and_ SOLDIERS] _at a farther door,_
_which opened, brings them to the tomb, where the_
_lady lies buried. The tomb here discovered,_
_richly set forth_.

TYR. Softly, softly!
Let's give this place the peace that it requires;
The vaults e'en chide our steps with murmuring sounds,
For making bold so late: it must be done.

1ST SOL. I fear nothing but the whorish ghost of a quean I kept
once; she swore she would so haunt me, I should never pray in
quiet for her, and I have kept myself from church these fifteen
years to prevent her.

TYR. The monument woos me: I must run and kiss it.
Now trust me, if the tears do not e'en stand
Upon the marble: what slow springs have I!
'Twas weeping to itself before I came;
How pity strikes e'en through insensible things,
And makes them shame our dulness.
Thou house of silence and the calms of rest,
After tempestuous life, I claim of thee
A mistress, one of the most beauteous sleepers
That ever lay so cold, not yet due to thee
By natural death, but cruelly forc'd hither,
Many a year before the world could spare her!
We miss her amongst the glories of our court,
When they be number'd up. All thy still strength,
Thou grey-ey'd monument, shall not keep her from us!
Strike, villain! though the echo rail us all
Into ridiculous deafness; pierce the jaws
Of this cold ponderous creature.

2D SOL. Sir!

TYR. Why strik'st thou not?

2D SOL. I shall not hold the axe fast, I'm afraid, sir.

TYR. O shame of men, a soldier and so fearful?

2D SOL. 'Tis out of my element to be in a church, sir.
Give me the open field, and turn me loose, sir.

TYR. True, thou then hast room enough to run away!
Take thou the axe from him.

1ST SOL. I beseech your grace,
'Twill come to a worse hand. You'll find us all
Of one mind for the church, I can assure you, sir.

TYR. Nor thou?

3D SOL. I love not to disquiet ghosts
Of any people living.

TYR. O slaves of one opinion: give me't from thee,
Thou man made out of fear.

2D SOL. By my faith, I'm glad I'm rid on't--
I that was ne'er before in [a] cathedral,
And have the battering of a lady's tomb,
Lies hard upon my conscience at first coming;
I should get much by that; it shall be a warning to me,
I'll ne'er come here again.

TYR. No? wilt not yield? [_Strikes at the tomb._
Art thou so loth to part from her?

1ST SOL. What means he? Has he no feeling with him? By this
light, if I be not afraid to stay any longer! very fear will
go nigh to turn me of some religion or other, and so make me
forfeit my lieutenantship.

TYR. O, have we got the mastery? Help, you vassals!
Freeze you in idleness, and can see us sweat?

2D SOL. We sweat with fear, as much as work can make us.

TYR. Remove the stone, that I may see my mistress!
Set to your hands, you villains, and that nimbly,
Or the same axe shall make you all fly open!

ALL. O good my lord!

TYR. I must not be delay'd.

1ST SOL. This is ten thousand times worse than entering on a breach:
'Tis the first stone that ever I took off
From any lady; marry, I have brought 'em many:
Fair diamonds, sapphires, rubies. [_They raise the stone._

TYR. O bless'd object!
I never shall be weary to behold thee;
I could eternally stand thus and see thee.
Why, 'tis not possible, death should look so fair.
Life is not more illustrious[470], when health smiles on't;
She's only pale, the colour of the court,
And most attractive; mistresses most strive for't;
And their lascivious servants most affect it.
Lay to your hands again!

ALL. My lord?

TYR. Take up her body!

1ST SOL. How, my lord?

TYR. Her body.

1ST SOL. She's dead, my lord.

TYR. True, if she were alive,
Such slaves as you should not come near to touch her:
Do't, and with all best reverence place her here.

1ST SOL. Not only, sir, with reverence, but with fear;
You shall have more than your own asking once.
I am afraid of nothing, but she'll rise
At the first jog, and save us all a labour.

2D SOL. Then we were best take her up, and never touch her.

1ST SOL. How can that be? does fear make thee mad?
I've took up many a woman in my days,
But never with less pleasure, I protest.

TYR. O, the moon rises! what reflection
Is thrown about this sanctified building,
E'en in a twinkling! How the monuments glister,
As if death's palaces were all massy silver,
And scorn'd the name of marble! Art thou cold?
I have no faith in't yet: I believe none.
Madam! 'tis I, sweet lady: prythee, speak,
'Tis thy love calls on thee--thy king, thy servant.
No! not a word? all prisoners to pale silence!
I'll prove a kiss.

2D SOL. Here's fine chill venery;
'Twould make a pander's heels ache, I'll be sworn;
All my teeth chatter in my head to see't. [_Aside._

TYR. Thou'rt cold indeed, beshrew thee for't.
Unkind to thine own blood, hard-hearted lady!
What injury hast thou offer'd to the youth
And pleasure of thy days? refuse the court,
And steal to this hard lodging! was that wisdom?
O, I could chide thee with mine eye brimful,
And weep out my forgiveness, when I've done!
Nothing hurt thee but want of woman's counsel;
Hadst thou but ask'd th' opinion of most ladies,
Thou'dst never come to this! they would have told thee,
How dear a treasure life and youth had been;
'Tis that they fear to lose: the very name
Can make more gaudy tremblers in a minute,
Than heaven, or sin, or hell--these are last thought on.
And where gott'st thou such boldness from the rest
Of all thy timorous sex, to do a deed here
Upon thyself would plunge the world's best soldier
And make him twice bethink him and again.
And yet give over? Since thy life has left me,
I'll clasp the body for the spirit that dwelt in it,
And love the house still for the mistress' sake.
Thou art mine now, spite of destruction
And Govianus; and I will possess thee.
I once read of a Herod, whose affection
Pursued a virgin's love, as I did thine:
Who, for the hate she owed him, kill'd herself,
As thou too rashly didst without all pity,
Yet he preserv'd her body dead in honey,
And kept her long after her funeral;
But I'll unlock the treasure-house of art
With keys of gold, and bestow all on thee.
Here, slaves! receive her humbly from our arms.
Upon your knees, you villains! all's too little,
If you should sweep the pavement with your lips.

1ST SOL. What strange brooms he invents!

[_Aside._

TYR. So! reverently!
Bear her before us gently to the palace.
Place you the stone again, where first we found it.

[_Exeunt. Manet_ 1ST SOLDIER.

1ST SOL. Must this on now to deceive all comers,
And cover emptiness? 'tis, for all the world,
Like a great city-pie brought to a table,
Where there be many hands that lay about.
The lid's shut close, when all the meat's pick'd out,
Yet stands to make a show, and cosen people. [_Exit._

SCENE IV.

_Enter_ GOVIANUS _in black, a book in his hand, his_
PAGE _carrying a torch before him_.

GOV. Already mine eye melts; the monument
No sooner stood before it, but a tear
Ran swiftly from me to express her duty.
Temple of honour! I salute thee early,
The time that my griefs rise; chamber of peace!
Where wounded virtue sleeps, lock'd from the world,
I bring, to be acquainted with thy silence,
Sorrows that love no noise; they dwell all inward,
Where truth and love in every man should dwell.
Be ready, boy! give me the strain again,
'Twill show well here whilst, in my grief's devotion,
At every rest mine eye lets fall a bead,
To keep the number perfect.

[GOVIANUS _kneels at the tomb. His_ PAGE _sings_.

_The Song._

_If ever pity were well-plac'd_
_On true desert and virtuous honour,_
_It could ne'er be better grac'd;_
_Freely then bestow't upon her._
_Never lady earn'd her fame_
_In virtue's war with greater strife;_
_To preserve her constant name_
_She gave up beauty, youth, and life._
_There she sleeps;_
_And here he weeps,_
_The lord unto so rare a wife._
_Weep, weep, and mourn! lament,_
_You virgins that pass by her!_
_For if praise come by death again,_
_I doubt few will lie nigh her._

GOV. Thou art an honest boy, 'tis like one
That has a feeling of his master's passions
And the unmatch'd worth of his dead mistress.
Thy better years shall find me good to thee,
When understanding ripens in thy soul,
Which truly makes the man, and not long time.
Prythee, withdraw a little, and attend me
At the cloister door.

PAGE. It shall be done, my lord. [PAGE _retires_.

GOV. Eternal maid of honour, whose chaste body
Lies here, like virtue's close and hidden seed,
To spring forth glorious to eternity
At the everlasting harvest!

A VOICE WITHIN. I am not here.

GOV. What's that? who is not here? I'm forc'd to question it,
Some idle sounds the beaten vaults send forth.

[_On a sudden, in a kind of noise like a wind, the_
_doors clattering, the tombstone flies open,_
_and a great light appears in the midst of_
_the tomb; his lady as[471] went out, standing_
_before him all in white, stuck with jewels,_
_and a great crucifix on her breast._[472]

GOV. Mercy, look to me! Faith, I fly to thee!
Keep a strong watch about me! (now thy friendship!)
O, never came astonishment and fear
So pleasing to mankind! I take delight
To have my breast shake, and my hair stand stiff.
If this be sorrow, let it never die!
Came all the pains of hell in that shape to me,
I should endure them smiling! keep me still
In terror, I beseech thee! I'd not change
This fever for felicity of man,
Or all the pleasures of ten thousand ages.

GHOST. Dear lord, I come to tell you all my wrongs.

GOV. Welcome! Who wrongs the spirit of my love?
Thou art above the injuries of blood,
They cannot reach thee now; what dares offend thee?
No life that has the weight of flesh upon't,
And treads as I do, can now wrong my mistress.

GHOST. The, peace that death allows me is not mine,
The monument is robb'd. Behold! I'm gone,
My body taken up.

GOV. [_Lifts the stone._] 'Tis gone, indeed,
What villain dares so fearfully run in debt
To black eternity?

GHOST. He that dares do more--the tyrant.

GOV. All the miseries below
Reward his boldness!

GHOST. I am now at court
In his own private chamber: there he wooes me,
And plies his suit to me with as serious pains,
As if the short flame of mortality
Were lighted up again in my cold breast;
Folds me within his arms, and often sets
A sinful kiss upon my senseless lip;
Weeps when he sees the paleness of my cheek,
And will send privately for a hand of art,
That may dissemble life upon my face,
To please his lustful eye.

GOV. O piteous wrongs!
Inhuman injuries, without grace or mercy!

GHOST. I leave them to thy thought, dearest of men!
My rest is lost; thou must restore't again.

GOV. O, fly me not so soon!

GHOST. Farewell, true lord.

[_The_ GHOST _disappears_.

GOV. I cannot spare thee yet. I'll make myself
Over to death too, and we'll walk together
Like loving spirits; I pray thee, let's do so.
She's snatch'd away by fate, and I talk sickly;
I must despatch this business upon earth,
Before I take that journey.
I'll to my brother for his aid or counsel.
So wrong'd? O heaven, put armour on my spirit!
Her body I will place in her first nest,
Or in th' attempt lock death into my breast. [_Exit._

FOOTNOTES:

[468] [_i.e._, First-rate.]

[469] [MS. _now_, and so former edit.]

[470] [Lustrous, bright.]

[471] [So in the MS. We should regard this form of expression as a vulgarism.]

[472] [The printed copy of 1824 does not follow the MS. here. In the margin of the original is written, _Enter Lady Rich. Robinson_, by which, I suppose, is meant that the lady was to enter here, and that the part was taken by a person of that name.]