Chapter IV: Introduction (4)

COL. Let your wrath be reciprocal, and pay him at his own
weapon--but to the purpose for which I came. The party you wot
of commends him to you in this diamond; he that met the party
you know, and said the party's party was a party of a partly
pretty understanding.

LOL. O, the Lord Alphonso.

COL. The very same, believe it: he loves you, and swears he so
loves you, that if you do not credit him, you are worse than an
infidel.

LOL. Indeed, Mistress Collaquintida, he hath the right garb
for apparel, the true touch with the tongue in the kiss, and
he dances well but falls heavily: but my husband, woman, my
husband!--if we could put out his cat's eyes, there were
something to be said; but they are ever peeping and prying,
that they are able to pierce through a millstone: besides, I
may say to you, he is a little jealous too; and see where he
comes! We shall have a coil now.

_Enter_ PRATE _the Orator_.

COL. Begin you to pout first; for that's a woman's prevention.

PRATE. What, Lollia, I say, where are you? my house looks you,
my men lack you, I seek you, and a whole quest of inquiry
cannot find you; fie, fie, fie! idleness is the whip of thrift:
a good housewife should ever be occupied.

LOL. Indeed I have much joy to be occupied in anybody's company.

PRATE. Why, what's the matter?

LOL. Why, orators' wives shortly will be known like images
on water-stairs, ever in one weather-beaten suit, as if none
wore hoods but monks and ladies: nor feathers, but fore-horses
and waiting gentlewomen; nor chains, but prisoners and lords'
officers; nor periwigs, but players and hot-brains--but the
weakest must to the wall still.[146]

PRATE. Go to, you shall have what you will.

LOL. Nay, nay, 'twas my hard fortune to be your wife; time was
I might have done otherwise. But it matters not: you esteem
me, as you do yourself, and think all things costly enough
that cover shame, and that a pair of silken fore-sleeves to a
satin breastplate is a garment good enough for a capitol; but
is Master Wrangle, Master Tangle, or Master Trolbear, of that
opinion? in faith, sir, no.

There's never a gallant in our state
That goes more rich in gaudy bravery:
And yet (I hope) for quality of speech,
Audacious words, or quirks or quiddities,
You are not held their much inferior.
Fie, fie! I am ashamed to see your baseness.

COL. Indeed, Master Prate, she tells you truly; I wonder that
you, being a proper man and an orator, will not go brave,[147]
according to the custom of the country.

PRATE. Go to, neighbour; he that will rise to the top of a high
ladder must go up, not leap up: but be patient, wench, and thou
shalt shortly see me gallant it with the best, and for thyself,
my Lollia--

Not Lollia Paulina, nor those blazing stars,
Which make the world the apes of Italy,
Shall match thyself in sun-bright splendency.

LOL. Nay, verily, for myself I care not, 'tis you that are my
pride; if you would go like yourself, I were appeased.

PRATE. Believe it, wench, so I will:--but to the purpose for
which I came. The end of this great war is now brought to a
combat, two to two, the Duke of Epire and Alphonso for our
queen, against the king and Prince Philocles: now, wench, if
thou wilt go see the fight, I will send and provide thee of a
good standing.

LOL. Indeed, for you have ne'er a good one of your own. [_Aside._

PRATE. What! Precedent, I say!

PRE. [_Within._] Anon, anon, sir.

PRATE. Why, when, I say? the villain's belly is like a
bottomless pit--ever filling, and yet empty; at your leisure,
sir.

_Enter_ PRECEDENT, PRATE'S _man, eating_.

PRE. I can make no more haste than my teeth will give me leave.

PRATE. Well, sir, get you without the town to the place of the
combat, and provide me for my wife some good standing to see
the conflict.

PRE. How, master, how! must I provide a good standing for you
for my mistress? truly, master, I think a marrow-bone pie,
candied eringoes, preserved dates, marmalade of cantharides,
were much better harbingers; cock-sparrow stewed, doves'
brains, or swans' pizzles, are very provocative; roasted
potatoes[148] or boiled skirrets[149] are your only lofty
dishes; methinks these should fit you better than I can do.

PRATE. What's this, what's this? I say, provide me a standing
for my wife upon a scaffold.

PRE. And truly, master, I think a private chamber were better.

PRATE. I grant you--if there were a chamber convenient.

PRE. Willing minds will make shift in a simple hole; close
windows, strong locks, hard bed, and sure posts, are your only
ornaments.

PRATE. I think the knave be mad; sirrah, you chop-logic
blockhead, you that have your brain-pan made of dry leather,
and your wit ever wetshod, pack about your business, or I'll
pack your pen and inkhorn about your ears.

PRE. Well, sir, I may go or so, but would my mistress take a
standing of my preferment, I would so mount her, she should
love strange things the better all her life after. [_Aside._

PRATE. Why, when, sir? [_Exit_ PRECEDENT.
And come, sweet wife; and, neighbour,
Let us have your company too. [_Exeunt._

_Enter at one door a Herald, and_ FLORIO, _marshal_
_for the King, with officers bearing the lists; at_
_the other door a Herald, and_ CÆLIO, _marshal_
_for the Queen_.

CAE. Holla! what are you?

FLO. High marshal for the king. Your character?

CAE. I likewise for the queen; where lies your equal ground?

FLO. Here underneath these walls, and there and there
Ground for the battles.

CAE. Place there the queen's seat,
And there and there chairs for the combatants.

FLO. Place here the lists; fix every joint as strong,
As 'twere a wall; for on this foot of earth
This day shall stand two famous monuments;
The one a throne of glory bright as gold,
Burnish'd with angels' lustre, and with stars
Pluck'd from the crown of conquest, in which shall sit
Men made half-gods through famous victory:
The other a rich tomb of memorable fame,
Built by the curious thoughts of noble minds,
In which shall sleep these valiant souls in peace,
Whom fortune's hand shall only overthrow.
Heaven, in thy palm this day the balance hings,[150]
Which makes kings gods, or men more great than kings.

CAE. So, now let the heralds give the champions sign
Of ready preparations. [_Exeunt Heralds._

_The cornets sound; and enter at one end of the stage_
_a Herald, two Pages, one with pole-axes, the_
_other with hand-axes, the_ DUKE OF EPIRE _and_
ALPHONSO, _like combatants; the_ QUEEN _and_
MARIANA; PRATE, LOLLIA, COLLAQUINTIDA,
_and_ PRECEDENT _aloft_.

FLO. What are you that appear, and what devoir
Draws you within these lists?

EPIRE. I am the Duke of Epire, and the mine,[151]
Which doth attract my spirit to run this marshal[152] course
Is the fair guard of a distressed queen, would wed
To hate and inequality, and brutish force;
Which to withstand I boldly enter thus,
And will defail,[153] or else prove recreant.

FLO. And what are you, or your intendiments?

ALPH. I am Alphonso, marshal of this realm,
Who of like-temper'd thoughts and like desires
Have grounded this my sanctimonious zeal,
And will approve the duke's assertions,
Or in this field lie slain and recreant.

FLO. Enter and prosper, as your cause deserves.

_The cornets sound; and enter at the other end of the_
_stage a Herald, two Pages with [hand-]axes and_
_pole-axes; then the_ KING OF CYPRUS _and_
PHILOCLES, _like combatants, and their array._[154]

CAE. What are you that appear, and what devoir
Draws you within these lists?

CYP. I am the King of Cyprus who, led on
By the divine instinct of heavenly love,
Come with my sword to beg that royal maid,
And to approve by gift of heaven and fate
She is alone to me appropriate:
Which to maintain, I challenge entrance here,
Where I will live a king or recreant.

CAE. And what are you or your intendiments?

PHIL. I am less than my thoughts, more than myself,
Yet nothing but the creature of my fate;
By name my nature only is obscur'd,
And yet the world baptiz'd me Philocles;
My entrance here is proof of holy zeal,
And to maintain that, no severe disdain,
False shape of chastity, nor woman's will,
Neglective petulance or uncertain hope,
Foul-visor'd coyness, nor seducing fame,
Should rob the royal temper of true love
From the desired aim of his desires,
Which my best blood shall witness, or this field
Entomb my body, made a recreant.

CAE. Enter and prosper, as your cause deserves.

[_Draws two swords._

FLO. Princes, lay your hands on these swords' points.
Here you shall swear[155] by hope, by heaven, by Jove,
And by the right you challenge in true fame,
That here you stand not arm'd with any guile,
Malignant hate, or usurpation
Of philters, charms, or night-spells; characters,
Or other black infernal vantages;
But even with thoughts as pure
As your pure valours or the sun's pure beams,
T' approve the right of your[156] affection;
And howsoe'er your fortunes rise or fall,
To break no faith in your conditions.
So help you Jove!

ALL. We swear!

QUEEN. How often do my maiden thoughts correct
And chide my froward will for this extreme
Pursuit of blood! believe me, fain I would
Recall mine oath's vow, did not my shame
Hold fast my cruelty, by which is taught
Those gems are prized best are dearest bought,
Sleep, my love's softness then, waken my flame,
Which guards a vestal sanctity! Princes, behold,
Upon those weapons sits my god of love,
And in their powers my love's security[157].
If them you conquer, we are all your slaves:
If they triumph, we'll mourn upon your graves.

MAR. Now, by my maiden modesty, I wish
Good fortune to that Philocles: my mind
Presages virtue in his eaglet's eyes.
'Sfoot, he looks like a sparrow-hawk or a wanton fire,
A flash of lightning or a glimpse of day:
His eye steals to my heart, and lets it see
More than it would: peace! blab no secrecy;
He must have blows.

FLO. Sound cornets, princes, respect your guards.

[_Here they fight, and_ PHILOCLES _overthrows_
ALPHONSO, _and_ EPIRE _overthrows_ CYPRUS.

PHIL. I crave the queen's conditions, or this blow
Sends this afflicted soul to heaven or hell.
Speak, madam, will you yield, or shall he die?

EPIRE. Neither, bold prince; if thou but touch a hair,
The king's breath shall redeem it: madam, your love
Is safe in angels' guarding; let no fear
Shake hands with doubtfulness: you are as safe
As in a tower of diamonds.

PHIL. O, 'tis but glass,
And cannot bear this axe's massiness.
Duke, thy brave words, that second thy brave deeds,
Fill me with emulation: only we two
Stand equal victors; then if thou hast that tie
And bond of well-knit valour, which unites
Virtue and fame together, let us restore
Our captives unto freedom, and we two
In single combat try out the mastery.
Where whoso falls, each other shall subscribe
To every clause in each condition.

EPIRE. Thou art the index of mine ample thought,
And I am pleas'd with thine election.
Speak, madam, if ever I deserved grace,
Grace me with your consent.

QUEEN. 'Tis all my will.
Thy noble hand erect and perfect me.

PHIL. What says his majesty?
My stars are writ in heaven: nor death nor fate
Are slaves to fear, to hope, or human state.

CYP. I neither fear thy fortune nor my ruin;
But hold them all beyond all prophecy.
Thou hast my free consent, and on thy power
Lies my life's date or my death's hour.

EPIRE. Then rise and live with safety.

PHIL. Alphonso, here my hand,
Thy fortune lends thy peace no infamy.
And now, thou glorious issue of Jove's brain[158],
That burnt the Telamonian ravisher,
Look from thy sphere, and if my heart contain
An impure thought of lust, send thy monsters forth
And make me more than earthly miserable.

[_Here the cornets sound, they fight, and_ PHILOCLES
_overcomes the_ DUKE. _The_ QUEEN
_descends_[159].

PHIL. Yield, recreant[160], or die!

EPIRE. Thine axe hath not the power to wound my thought,
And yields a word my tongue could never sound.
I say thou'rt worthy, valiant, for my death:
Let the queen speak it--'tis an easy breath.

QUEEN. Not for the world's large circuit; hold, gentle prince,
Thus I do pay his ransom: low as the ground,
I tender my unspotted virgin love
To thy great will's commandment: let not my care,
My woman tyranny, or too strict guard,
In bloody purchase take away those sweets
Till now have govern'd your amaz'd desires;
For trust me, king, I will redeem my blame
With as much love as Philocles hath fame.

CYP. Thus comes a calm unto a sea-wreck'd soul,
Ease to the pained, food unto the starv'd,
As you to me, my best creation.
Trust me, my queen; my love's large chronicle
Thou never shalt o'erread, because each day
It shall beget new matter of amaze,
And live to do thee grace eternally.
Next whom my Philocles, my bounteous friend,
Author of life, and sovereign of my love,
My heart shall be thy throne, thy breast the shrine,
Where I will sit to study gratefulness.
To you, and you, my lords, my best of thoughts,
Whose loves have show'd a duteous carefulness;
To all, free thanks and graces. This unity
Of love and kingdoms is a glorious sight.
Mount up the royal champion, music and cornets sound:
Let shouts and cries make heaven and earth rebound. [_Exeunt._

EPIRE. How like the sun's great bastard o'er the world
Rides this man-mounted engine, this proud prince,
And with his breath singes our continents.
Sit fast, proud Phaeton, or[161] by heaven I'll kick
And plunge thee in the sea; if thou'lt needs ride,
Thou shouldst have made thy seat upon a slave,
And not upon mine honour's firmament.
Thou hast not heard the god of wisdom's tale,
Nor can thy youth curb greatness, till my hate
Confound thy life with villain policy.
I am resolv'd, since virtue hath disdain'd
To clothe me in her riches, henceforth to prove
A villain fatal, black and ominous.
Thy virtue is the ground of my dislike;
And my disgrace, the edge of envy's sword,
Which like a razor shall unplume thy crest,
And rob thee of thy native excellence.
When great thoughts give their homage to disgrace,
There's no respect of deeds, time, thoughts, or place.

FOOTNOTES:

[128] Langbaine observes that several incidents in this play are borrowed from novels, as the story of Mariana swearing Philocles to be dumb, from Bandello's Novels; Alfonso cuckolding Prate the orator, and the latter appearing before the council, from the same book. The English reader may see the same story in, "The Complaisant Companion," 8o, 1674.

[129] The word _music_ is here inserted in the 4o, 1608, and is repeated at the commencement of each act.

[130] _'Tis heresy I hold_--edit. of 1608.

[131] [Old copies, _fare see_.]

[132] An old word used by Chaucer, Spenser, Fairfax, and other writers, signifying a physician.

[133] The entrance of Mariana with the queen, &c., is not mentioned, though her _exit_ is noticed: by the dialogue, which follows their departure from the walls, it is evident that she ought to be named, though hitherto omitted.--_Collier._

[134] Dr Johnson observes that worm is the Teutonic word for serpent; and Dr Percy, that in the northern counties the same word is still used in that sense. See their several notes, and also Mr Tollet's to "Antony and Cleopatra," act v. sc. 2.

[135] [Greater, better.]

[136] [Former edits., _dulat_, which can surely have no meaning.]

[137] If Theobald had been as well read in our ancient dramatic writers as he pretended to be, he would have produced this passage in justification of the celebrated line in "The Double Falshood"--

"None but himself can be his parallel."

It is certain, if authorities would sanctify absurdity, he might have made a better defence against Mr Pope than that which he published. He might also have quoted the following line from Massinger's "Duke of Milan," act iv. sc. 3--

"And, but herself, admits no parallel."

[138] [Former edits., _active_.]

[139] [Former edits., _it shows_.]

[140] [Edits., _Majesty's hand_. The emendation was suggested by Collier.]

[141] There seems no reason for omitting these explanatory matters, which save a reference to the _Dramatis Personæ_.--_Collier._

[142] [Former edits., _gardens_.]

[143] An ornament for the neck, a collar-band, or kind of ruff. Fr. _Rabat_.

[144] [Allusively to the enormously high headdress worn by ladies.]

[145] [Old copy, _a_.]

[146] This proverb is also quoted in "The Bloody Banquet," by T.D., 1639, which Mr Malone [wrongly] gives to R. Davenport--

CLOWN. O, always _the weakest goes to the wall_.

There was a play first printed in 1600, under the title of "The Weakest goeth to the Wall," the plot of which is taken with much servility from B. Rich's "Farewell to the Militarie Profession," 1581 and 1606, which book also furnished Shakespeare with the plot of his "Twelfth Night."--_Collier._

[147] Fine.

[148] See Mr Collins's note to "Troilus and Cressida," [or Dyce's "Shakespeare Glossary," art. _Potato_.]

[149] "Skirret, Sisarum, quasi skirwort, _i.e._, sisar-wort. Tiberii Aug. deliciæ: credo potius a Belg. _suycker-wortel_, idem signante...."--_Skinner._ Compare Hofman and C. Plinii "Nat. Hist." lib. xix. c. 5.

[150] [An old form of] _hangs_. See the Glossary to Douglas's "Virgil," voce _Hingare_ [or Halliwell's "Dict." in _v._]

[151] The magnet, for in Kent they call the ironstone _mine_, quasi _mineral_.--_Pegge._

[152] [Martial.]

[153] _i.e._, Prove defective, fail in my strength: _defailler_, Fr.--_Steevens._

[154] [Edits., _army_; but the king would scarcely bring an army to such an encounter, even a stage-army.]

[155] When the combat was demanded and allowed, it was the custom for each party to take an oath to the following purport, viz., "that they had not brought into the lists other armour or weapon than was allowed, neither any engine, instrument, _herbe, charm_, or _enchantment_, and that neither of them should put affiance or trust in anything other than God and their own valours, as God and the holy Evangelists should help them."--Segar's "Honour Military, &c.," p. 134.

See also Mr Steevens's note on "Macbeth," act v. sc. 7.

[156] [Old copy, _pure_.]

[157] [Former edits., _severity_.]

[158] _i.e._, Minerva, who killed Ajax Oïleus with a thunderbolt for ravishing Cassandra in her temple.--_Steevens._

[159] [Both the edits., _defends_.]

[160] [Edits., _recant_.]

[161] [Old copy, _for_.]

ACTUS II., SCÆNA 1.

_Enter_ PRATE, LOLLIA, COLLAQUINTIDA, _and_
PRECEDENT.

PRATE. Come, wife, methought our party stood stifly to it.

PRE. Indeed they were stiff, whilst they stood; but when they
were down, they were like men of a low world. A man might have
wound their worst anger about his finger.

LOL. Go to, sirrah, you must have your fool's bolt in
everybody's quiver.

PRE. Indeed, mistress, if my master should break his arrow with
foul shooting or so, I would be glad if mine might supply the
hole[162].

PRATE. I find you kind, sir.

PRE. True, sir, according to my kind, and to pleasure my kind
mistress.

PRATE. Go to, sirrah, I will not have your kindness to
intermeddle with her kind; she is meat for your master.

PRE. And your man, sir, may lick your foul trencher.

COL. Ay, but not eat of his mutton.

PRE. Yet I may dip my bread in the wool, Mistress Collaquintida.

PRATE. Go to, sirrah, you will be obscene, and then I shall
knock you. But to the combat. Methought our side were the most
proper men.

LOL. True, and therefore they had the worse fortune: but see,
here's the Lord Florio.

_Enter_ FLORIO.

FLO. Master Orator, it is the king and queen's majesties'
pleasure that you presently repair unto the court, touching the
drawing out of certain articles for the benefit of both the
kingdoms.

PRATE. My lord, I will instantly attend their majesties.

FLO. Do, for they expect you seriously. [_Exit_ FLORIO.

PRATE. Wife, you can have my service no longer. Sirrah
Precedent, attend you upon your mistress home; and, wife, I
would have you to hold your journey directly homeward, and
not to imitate princes in their progress; step not out of
your way to visit a new gossip, to see a new garden-house, to
smell the perfumes of court jerkins, or to handle other tools
than may be fit for your modesty. I would not have you to step
into the suburbs, and acquaint yourself either with monsters
or motions[163], but holding your way directly homeward, show
yourself still to be a rare housewife.

LOL. I' faith, i' faith, your black outside will have a yellow
lining[164].

PRATE. Content thee, wife, it is but my love that gives thee
good counsel. But here comes one of my clients.

_Enter_ DRAP, _a country gentleman_.

DRAP. Sir, master orator, I am bold to trouble you about my
suit.

PRATE. Sir, master country gentleman, I am now for present
business of the king's.

DRAP. You may the better remember me.

PRATE. Heyday! I shall mix your business with the king's?

DRAP. No, but you may let his majesty know my necessity.

PRATE. Sir, sir, you must not confine me to your seasons. I
tell you, I will select[165] mine own leisures.

_Enter_ VELOURS, _a citizen_.

VEL. Master orator, is it your pleasure I attend you about my
despatches?

PRATE. Sir, it is my pleasure you despatch yourself from mine
encumbrance; I tell you, I am for instant business of the
king's.

VEL. Sir, I have borne my attendance long.

PRATE. Bear it till your bones ache, I tell you; I cannot bear
it now, I am for new business.

DRAP _and_ VEL. Yet the old should be despatched; it was first
paid for.

PRATE. If you be gentlemen, do not make me mad.

DRAP _and_ VEL. Sir, our suits are of great weight.

PRATE. If you be Christians, do not make me an atheist. I shall
profane if you vex me thus.

_Enter the_ LORD MECHANT.

What, more vexation? My lord, my lord, save your breath for
your broth; I am not now at leisure to attend you.

MECH. A word, good master orator.

PRATE. Not a word, I beseech your lordship. I am for the king's
business; you must attend me at my chamber. [_Exit_ PRATE.

MECH., DRAP, _and_ VEL. And everywhere else: we will not leave
you. [_Exeunt._

PRE. Now (methinks) my master is like a horse-leech, and these
suitors so many sick of the gout, that come to have him suck
their blood. O, 'tis a mad world!

LOL. Go to, sirrah, you will never leave your crabtree similes;
but, pity of me, whom have we here?

_Enter_ ALPHONSO.

O, 'tis the Lord Alphonso.

ALPH. Mistress, God save: nay, your lip, am I[166] a stranger,
and how doth Mistress Collaquintida? O, you are an excellent
seasoner of city stomachs.

COL. Faith, my lord, I have done my best to make somebody
relish your sweetmeats. But harkee you, my lord, I have struck
the stroke, I have done the deed; there wants nothing but time,
place, and her consent.

ALPH. Call you that nothing?

COL. A trifle, a trifle; upon her, my lord; she may seem a
little rough at the first, but if you stand stiffly to her,
she'll fall. A word with you, Master Precedent. [_They whisper._

ALPH. Mistress Prate, I am a soldier, and can better act my
love than speak it. My suit you know by your neighbour, my love
you shall prove by my merit; to both which my tokens have been
petty witnesses; and my body shall seal and deliver upon thee
such a brave confirmation, that not all the orators in Sicily
shall be able to cancel the deed.

LOL. Truly, my lord, methinks you, being witty, should be
honest.

ALPH. Nay, wench, if I were a fool, there's no question but I
would be honest; but to the purpose; say, wench, shall I enjoy,
shall I possess?

LOL. To enjoy my love, is not to possess my body.

ALPH. Tut, wench, they be words of one signification, and
cannot be separated.

LOL. Nay, then, I should wrong my husband.

ALPH. 'Sfoot, thou shouldst but do for him as he does for the
whole world. Why, an orator were a needless name, if it were
not to defend wrong; then, wench, do as he doth, write by a
precedent.

LOL. O, my lord, I have a husband,
A man whose waking jealousy survives,
And like a lion, sleeps with open eyes;
That not a minute of mine hours are free
From the intelligence of his secret spies.
I am a very covert[167] Danae,
Thorough whose roof suspicion will not let
Gold showers have passage, nor can I deceive
His Argus eyes with any policy:
And yet I swear I love you.

ALPH. Dearest[168] affection! if thou lov'st me, as thou say'st
thou dost,
Thou canst invent some means for our delight.
The rather sith it ever hath been said
That walls of brass withstand not willing minds:
And women, when they're prone, make love admir'd
For quaint endeavours: come, instruct thy wit,
And find some scale to our high height of bliss.

LOL. Then briefly thus, my lord.
To-morrow doth the senate sit to judge
Causes both criminal and of the state;
Where of necessity my husband's place
Must be fill'd by himself, because his tongue
Must gild his clients' causes. Now if you please
All that self-hour, when he is turmoiled
About those serious trifles, to vouchsafe
To visit me, his absence and my care
Shall give us liberty of more delight.
You know my meaning, and I am asham'd
My love should thus betray my modesty;
But make the use according to your fancy.

ALPH. What hour assures his absence?

LOL. Eight is the latest time.

ALPH. This kiss [shall] leave[169] my faith with thee: farewell.
Thou hast given me double glory from thy breath,
Nothing shall lose me time but certain death.

[_Exit_ ALPHONSO.

PRE. Truly, Mistress Collaquintida, you are an excellent piece
of sweet gall.

LOL. Well, sir, will you lead the way homeward?

PRE. To your bed-chamber, mistress, or your privy lodging?
[_Exeunt._

_Enter_ PHILOCLES _alone_.

PHIL. Night clad in black mourns for the loss of day,
And hides the silver spangles of the air,
That not a spark is left to light the world;
Whilst quiet sleep, the nourisher of life,
Takes full possession of mortality.
All creatures take their rest in soft repose,
Save malcontents and we accursed lovers,
Whose thoughts perturbed make us passion's slaves,
And rob us of the juice of happiness.
Dear Mariana, shap'd in an angel's mould,
Thou thrall'st my senses, and inflam'st my blood:
Love's power by wisdom cannot be withstood.
But see, the morning-star breaks from the east,
To tell the world her great eye[170] is awak'd,
To take his journey to the western vales:
And now the court begins to rise with him.

[_Here pass over the stage a physician,
a gentleman-usher, and a waiting-maid._

There goes the physician, the waiting-maid,
And a fine, straight-legg'd gentleman-usher.
The preface to a kirtle all puff-paste;
One that writes sonnets in his lady's praise,
And hides her crimes with flattering poesy.

_Enter_ MARIANA.

But peace! amazement! see the day of life,
Nature's best work, the world's chief paragon!
Madam, one word.

MAR. Ay; so now, farewell.

PHIL. You do mistake me.

MAR. That yourself can tell.
You ask'd me one word, which I gave, said _ay_;
A word of least use in a virgin's breath,[171]
Urge not my patience then with fond reply.

PHIL. Dear lady, lend an ear unto my voice,
Since each were made for other's happiness:
My tongue's not oil'd with courtly flatterings,
Nor can I paint my passions to the life;
But by that power which shap'd this heavenly form,
I am your bondslave forc'd by love's command;
Then let soft pity with such beauty dwell,
Madam, I love you.

MAR. As I am a virgin, so do I.

PHIL. But, madam, whom?

MAR. Myself no lady better.

PHIL. But will you love me?

MAR. No, by my chastity.

PHIL. I hope you do but jest.

MAR. Nay, I'll keep mine oath,
Men shall abandon pride and jealousy
Ere I'll be bound to their captivity:
They shall live continent, and leave to range,
But men (like to the moon) each month must change;
Yet we must seek that nought their sight displeases,
And mix our wedlock sweets with loath'd diseases;
When we consume ourselves and our best beauty,
All our reward is--why, 'twas but our duty.

PHIL. Judge not so hard of all for some offenders;
For you are subject to the selfsame crimes,
Of men and women always have been had
Some good of each----

MAR. But for the most part bad:
Therefore I'll have none at all, but die a perfect maid.

PHIL. That humour like a flower soon will fade;
Once did mine own thoughts sing to that delight,
Till love and you reform'd my barbarousness:
Therefore, dear lady, pity my wounded heart.

MAR. A surgeon here for this love-wounded man!
How deep's your ulcer'd orifice, I pray you tell?

PHIL. Quite thorough my heart.

MAR. 'Tis strange, and look so well!
Yet ladies' eyes have power to murder men,
And with one smile to make them whole again.
Achilles' lance to a hair; but do you love me, prince?

PHIL. Dearer than my soul.

MAR. Would I could love you!

PHIL. Madam, so you may.

MAR. As yet I cannot: therefore let me go.

PHIL. O, do not leave me, grant me but one request,
And here I vow by that divinest power,
The salt-sea's glorious issue, whose bright sphere
Rules my sick heart, and knows my chaste intent,
That if you please to impose on me that task
Which neither man nor monster can achieve,
Which even angels have a dread to touch,
Deeds which outstretch all possibility,
'Sfoot, more than can be thought--and I'll effect,
Or else I'll perish in th' accomplishment.

MAR. Let your request fit virgin-modesty,
And you obey your vow, I am content
To give your thoughts contented happiness.

PHIL. 'Tis but a kiss I ask, a minute's joy.

MAR. Now Cupid help thee; is thy grief for this?
Keep thy strong vow, and freely take a kiss. [_He kisses her._

PHIL. I have obtain'd my heaven, and in this touch
I feel the breath of all deliciousness:
Then freely give the sentence of my work,
Muster up all the engines of your wit,
Teach Juno rules beyond maliciousness;
Whate'er it be, I'll die but I'll perform it.

MAR. Thou shalt not kill thyself, nor fight with monsters,
Nor bring the great Turk's beard[172] to show thy zeal:
Thy life thou shalt not hazard for my love,
Nor will I tie thee to an endless task:
But even with ease and gentle-tangled knots,
Thou shalt entwine thy clue of miseries.

PHIL. Let it have passage, madam: give me my doom.

MAR. Then, Philocles, knit silence to my words,
And mark thy doom; for thus my stricter will
Loads grief upon thy vainer levity.
Hence, for the space and compass of one year,
Thou shalt abjure the liberty of speech;
Thou shalt not speak for fully twelvemonth's space,
For friend nor foe, for danger nor for death;
But live, like air, with silent emptiness.
Break thou this vow, I'll hold thee for a villain:
And all the world shall know thy perjury.

PHIL. Be heaven and earth a witness of my vow
And mine eternal silence!--I am dumb.

MAR. Why so, now shall I not be troubled with vain chat
Or idle prate of idle wantonness:
For love I cannot, therefore 'tis in vain;
Would all my suitors' tongues I thus could rein!
Then should I live free from feign'd sighs and groans,
With, _O, take pity, 'tis your servant moans_,
And such harsh stuff, that frets me to the heart;
And sonnets made of Cupid's burning dart,
Of Venus' lip, and Juno's majesty;
Then were I freed from fools and foolery.
In May the cuckoo sings: then she'll come hither.
Her voice and yours will rarely tune together.

[_Exit_ MARIANA.

_Enter_ FLORIO.

FLO. Prince Philocles, the king would speak with you.
[_Speaks louder and louder._
Prince Philocles, the king would speak with you.
Prince Philocles, the king would speak with you.

[PHILOCLES _strikes_ FLORIO, _and fells him_.

FLO. The pox rot off your fingers for this blow!
It is coronation-day thorough all my skull,
There's such a fatal ringing in my brain:
H' has won the set, has laid five fingers on:
But 'twas a knavish part of him to play so.
Hear me, ye gods: for this my open wrong,
Make short his fingers, as you have his tongue.

[_Exit_ FLORIO.

_Enter_ MECHANT _alone_.

MECH. 'Tis not man's fortune, envy, or neglect,
Which makes him miserable; but 'tis mean fate,
Even sole predestination, a firm gift
Fix'd to his birth, before the world was made.
For were it otherwise, then within our lives
We should find some distractions, various[173] change.
And other toys of much uncertainty:
But my mishaps are fix'd so to my blood,
They have no sire but my creation:
The queen, out of suspicion that my love
First set an edge upon the king's desires,
And made him woo her with a victor's sword.
Cast me from favour, seizes all my lands,
And turns my naked fortunes to the cold.
The king, made proud with purchase of his wish,
Neglects my sufferance for him, and o'erlooks
The low tide of my fortunes; lest my woes
Should speak my wrongs to his ingratitude:
The whilst those lords, whose supple hams have bow'd
To do me formal reverence, now despise
And slight me in their meanest compliments.
O, 'tis a torment more than hell yet knows,
To be an honest flatterer, or to live
A saint in limbo, which that I may prevent,
I'll be nor best nor worst, but all indifferent,
But here comes a nobleman; I must turn petitioner.

_Enter_ FLORIO.

My lord, may I not see the king?

FLO. You may not.
His majesty is now down-press'd with seriousness:
As for your suit, it is with Prate the orator,
I heard his highness give him a special charge
For your despatch with favour.

MECH. O, but he doth neglect,
And slights me like his weak orations:
And by your lordship's leave I do not think
His wisdom worthy of the conference.

FLO. Nay, if you will correct the king's coin, you are not for
my conference, farewell.

[_Exit_ FLORIO.

MECH. Why, and fare you well! sfoot, this is more than strange,
That, being griev'd, I may not say I'm pain'd.

_Enter_ ALPHONSO.

But here comes another: mine honourable lord,
May I not have some conference with the king?

ALPH. You may not; business of greater weight
Imports both him and us: nay, pray you cease;
As for your suit, 'tis with the orator.

MECH. Yet, methinks, 'twere meet------

ALPH. That you would rather trouble him than me.

MECH. It's strange.

ALPH. It's strange, indeed, to see you wrong your ease.
I am not now for idle conferences. Adieu.

[_Exit_ ALPHONSO.

MECH. Why this is court-grace[174] to men in misery,
And thus these tail-less lions with their roar
Affright the simple herd: O, I could now
Turn rebel 'gainst their pride.

_Enter_ EPIRE.

But here comes the duke:
My gracious lord, vouchsafe to hear my griefs.

EPIRE. For God's love, cease your trouble, we are all
Troubled with griefs of stranger qualities.

MECH. Words are no heavy burthen.

EPIRE. No, had I no other weight;
But we are all press'd down with other poise:
As for your suit, it is referr'd to Prate:
And he must give you fair despatch with favour;
Which if he slight for envy or for bribe,
Repair to me, and I will not forget
To give you ease, and chide his negligence;
Mean space, I pray you leave me, for we all
Are troubled now with greatest miracles.[175]

MECH. Your grace doth do me comfort, and I will
Study with service to deserve your favours,
And so I take my leave. [_Exit_ MECHANT.

_Enter two_ DOCTORS.

EPIRE. Your own contentments follow you.
Now, gentlemen,
What news within? can this dumb wonder speak?
Have you cut off those lets that tied his speech,
And made your fames to sound through Sicily?

1ST DOC. All hopeful means that man or art can find
Have we made trial of, but 'tis in vain:
For still, my lord, the cure's invincible.

2D DOC. Those organs nature gave to move the tongue,
He fully doth possess as well as we:
Which makes us think his sudden apoplexy
Is either will, vow, or a miracle.

EPIRE. I should think strangely, had we not stranger things
On earth; but wonders[176] now are most familiar:
But here comes his majesty. Now we shall see
If this dumb beast can speak before the king.

_Cornets, and enter_ CYPRUS, QUEEN, PHILOCLES,
MARIANA, _and attendants_.

CYP. My best of friends, my dearest Philocles,
Thy griefs run in my spirit, make me sad,
And dull my sense with thine affliction.
My soul with thine doth sympathise in woe,
And passion governs him that should rule all,
[PHILOCLES _does not reply_.
What say you, doctors, is there no hope of help?

1ST DOC. No hope, my lord; the cure is desperate.

CYP. Then I am king of grief; for in his words
Found I more music than in choirs of angels.
It was as silver, as the chime of spheres,
The breath of lutes, or love's deliciousness:
Next to my queen, he is my joy on earth:
Nor shall the world contain that happy good,
Which with my tears I will not woo for him.
My Lord of Epire, let it be straight proclaim'd
Through all the cities in our kingdom's verge,
That whoso will avow to cure this prince,
And bring his work to wish'd effectualness,
Shall have ten thousand crowns and our best love;
But if he fail in his great enterprise,
His daring is the loss of present life.
Since no man hitherto could do him good,
The next shall help him, or else lose his blood.

EPIRE. Your majesty shall have your will perform'd.

MAR. Not all so soon, dear brother; what, if a woman
Now should turn Æsculapius, and restore
This dumb Hippolitus? Nay, do not look strange,
I dare avow and undertake the cure.

EPIRE. You, sister! are you in your wits?

MAR. Faith, of the outside of them, brother; yet a woman's tongue,
Whose burthen still is superfluity,
May lend a man an age's complement.

CYP. Madam, I would not have you, with the lark,
Play yourself into dare-net;[177] this great cure,
I fear, is far beyond your physic's help.

MAR. My lord, you know not how Apollo loves me;
I have been thought as fair as Oenon was,
And dare be bold to claim this miracle.

CYP. Mariana, attend;
Glory and ruin compass thee about.
This hand shall raise thee to a golden throne,
And grace thee with all styles of dignity:
This cast thee down
Lower than life's misfortune, and overwhelm
Thy beauties with thy grave. Perform--be great:
Fail, and be worse than worst calamity.

QUEEN. Stay, gentle friend, my love doth bid thee stay;
Attempt not, and be safe from misery.

EPIRE. Sister, you shall not grasp with mischief thus;
My blood doth challenge interest in your ill,
And I conjure you from this desperateness.

MAR. Brother, content yourself, words but augment our strife;
I will perform, or else my pawn's my life.

CYP. Proceed, fair virgin.

MAR. Vouchsafe me privacy: now Venus bespeed.
[_She walks aside with_ PHILOCLES.
Speak, gentle Philocles, thine oath's bond I untie,
And give thy vows a free enfranchisement;
Thy well-kept league hath show'd thy strength of truth,
And doth confirm me in thy[178] virtuousness:
Thy martyrdom and sufferance is too long,
And I restore it to new liberty.
Then speak, my Philocles, speak, gentle prince,
To her whose love respects and honours thee.

CYP. How now, what virtue from thy charms?

MAR. No hope is left!
Dear Philocles, regard my miseries,
Untie that wilful let which holds in speech,
And make me happy through thy noble pity.
I see the face of mine ill-shaped contempt,
Where like with like hath quit most injury:
Then speak, my lord: utter one angel breath
To give me joy, and save me from strange death.
What, not a word! hath this small silence brought
An utter detestation to thy speech?
Wilt thou not hear, nor speak, nor pity me?
The gentle gods move thee to more remorse.

CYP. What, wilt not be?
Fond maid, thou hast drawn affliction on thy head,
And thrall'd thyself to worse calamity:
Till morrow's sun thy incantations use,
But, then effectless, all hope's desperate:
Wert thou my bosom-love, thou di'st the death;
Best ease for madness is the loss of breath.

[_Exeunt all but_ PHILOCLES _and_ MARIANA.

MAR. O Philocles, I am no court's disgrace,
No city's prostitution, country's shame,
Nor one shall bring Troy's fire unto thy house:
Turn not away, hard-hearted myrmidon.
See, on my knees I'll follow thee in court,
And make the world condemn thy cruelty.
Yet if my tears may mollify thy heart,
Receive them as the flood of strangest tides;
Turn not thy face from her that doats on thee.
Love now hath made me subject to thy will,
And pale disdain hath ta'en revenge on me.
Behold, my knees[179] I'll wear upon this earth,
And fill this roof with lamentations.
What! dost thou smile I hath fury so much sway
As even to banish poor civility?
Then be thyself, and break thine itching spleen;
For I disdain thy ransom's victory.
Life, thou art weary brought: welcome my death,
Sweet, because wish'd-for, good, because my choice:]
Yet when I am dead, this of me shall be said,
A cruel prince murder'd a loving maid;
And after-ages to th' unborn shall tell
Thy hate, my love: thy envy and my hell.
Nay, do not speak, I charge thee: go, let nothing move thee,
Death is my glory, since thou wilt not love me. [_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[162] [Edits., _whole_.]

[163] _i.e._, Puppet-shows.

[164] [Alluding to his jealousy.]

[165] [Old copy, _collect_.]

[166] [Edits., _I am_. He kisses her.]

[167] The edition of 1608 reads _toward_, which may be right. The edition of 1633 reads _coward_; but probably _covert_ is the correct word.--_Collier._

[168] [Edits., _death of_, which is assuredly nonsense.]

[169] The metre, and sense also, would be improved could any warrant be found for reading, _This kiss shall leave_, &c.--_Collier._

[170] [The sun, the eye of the world.]

[171] [In reference to the saying that maidens always say _nay_.]

[172] _Bird_ in the first edit., showing how the word was then pronounced.--_Collier._

[173] [Edits., _errors_.]

[174] [A play on the double meaning of the word.]

[175] [The speaker refers, as we shall presently see, to the newly-feigned dumbness of Philocles.]

[176] [Edits. read--

"I should think strangely, had we strange things on earth.
But wonders now," &c.]

[177] The quartos, _day-net_, we should read _dare net_. Surrey, in "Henry VIII," act iii. sc. 3, says: "And _dare_ us with his cap-like larks." See Blome's "Gentleman's Recreation."--_Pegge._ [See also Dyce's "Shakespeare Glossary," _v._ Dare.]

[178] [Edits., _my_.]

[179] [Edits., _nerves_.]

ACTUS III., SCÆNA 1.

_Enter the_ DUKE OF EPIRE _and_ ALPHONSO.

EPIRE. Grief, which controls the motions of our thoughts,
Reigns in my blood, and makes me passion's slave.
My sister's misery torments my soul,
And breaks my gall, when I but think of her:
She was bewitch'd with spells to her misfortune,
Or else born hapless under a low'ring star,
And 'tis her fate to be thus miserable.
O Philocles, hadst thou no other scale
To mount thy heaven but by our miseries?
Must all the noble fame of our great house
Waste down her royal pillars, to make steps
For thee to climb to glory? Well, I see
Thou plott'st our shames in thy great dignity.

ALPH. Patience, great lord; methinks these ill-rais'd
storms Have not more violence than may be borne:
Come, we will both go sue unto the king,
We there will kneel and pray eternally,
And never rise till he remit his doom.
It shall be so, I will unto the king,
To beg great favour for a small offence:
But if she die for this, then, king, take heed:
Thou[180] and thy fortunes by this hand shall bleed. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ CHIP, SHAVING, _and others with a scaffold_.

CHIP. Come, my hearts, let's make all things ready for the
execution; here's a maidenhead must be cut off without a
feather-bed.

SHA. It's a sign she deals with sharp tools and a cruel
headsman.

CHIP. If I had been her judge, she should have been tossed to
death in a blanket.

SHA. No, I would have had her smothered in a feather-bed.

CHIP. They say she would not plead at her trial.

SHA. No, that's true, for she had a great desire to be
pressed.[181]

CHIP. And I have known some of her sex have got that favour to
be pressed for speaking.

SHA. Then she was unwise to hold her tongue, being a woman.

CHIP. What is her crime, that she must lose her head?

SHA. Because she lived honest, contrary to the statute.

CHIP. There is a great number of my neighbours will never
suffer for that fault.

SHA. No, nor thou neither, if the truth were known; for my part
I shun that danger.

CHIP. I think we are all out of danger of the law for that
crime.

SHA. I know I am free, for I am a knave, if I have not forgot
what wench had my maidenhead.

_Enter_ FLORIO.

FLO. Make room there: his majesty is coming to the execution.

CHIP. Come, now all things are ready, let's away. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ EPIRE _and_ ALPHONSO.

EPIRE. Mercy is banish'd courts; the king, like flint,
Hardens his royal temper 'gainst our 'plaints,
And makes our woes most unavoidable.
What inauspicious star reign'd at her birth,
That heaven thus frowns upon her misery?
And, my good lord, now innocence must die,
As white as untrod snow or culver down.[182]
Kings' words are laws, and cannot be withstood;
Yet 'tis false greatness, which delights in blood.

ALPH. Patience, my lord; I do not think this ill
Is yet so big, as [to be] unrecoverable.
The king doth hold you in most choice respect,
And whom kings love, they study to oblige;
Then call your reason home, make not this civil war,
To suffer makes woes lesser than they are.

EPIRE. How well the sound can salve[183] the sick man's grief!
But O, how ill he can digest his pills![184]
O my good lord, you shall not lose a sister,
That is the joy and comfort of your breath;
Tis not your blood shall issue from her wound;
But mine that runs in rivers from her tears,
And drown my face in her calamity.
Well, let her perish, since her soul is clear,
And for her death I'll make a massacre.

_Enter_ CYPRUS, QUEEN, PHILOCLES, MARIANA
_bound, a guard of halberts, and an executioner_.

CYP. Your suits are bootless: for my vows have glued
And clos'd mine ears, that they retain no sound
Of your entreaties; and even now the time
Doth run upon his latest minutes, and
Save but by speech, there's no recovery.

QUEEN. Have mercy, good my lord: O, let my tears intrude
Betwixt your vows and her calamity:
In her you take from me my best of life,
My joy, my comfort, and my playfellow.

CYP. Content you, madam, for my vow is past,
And is like fate still unrevocable:
Ascend, poor model of calamity.

MAR. As lightly burden'd with the weight of crimes,
As spotless infants or poor harmless lambs,
Thus I ascend my heaven. This first step lower
Mounts to this next; this thus and thus[185] hath brought
My body's frame unto its highest throne:
Here doth her office end, and hence my soul
With golden wings of thought shall mount the sky,
And reach a palace[186] of pure sanctity.
Farewell, my sovereign! Madam, within your thoughts
Make me a tomb, and love my memory.
Brother, farewell; nay, do not mourn my death,
It is not I that die to spot our house,
Or make you live in after-obloquy.
Then weep no more, but take my last adieu:
My virtues, not my faults, preserve with you.
Lastly, to you that are my last of hope--
Nay, do not hide your eyes, I love them still,
To part friends now is greatest charity.
O, be thy days as fruitful in delights,
As Eden in choice flowers: thine honours such
As all the world may strive to imitate.
Be master of thy wishes: only this,
When the sad nurse, to still the wrangling babe,
Shall sing the careful story of my death,
Give me a sigh from thy heart's purest breath:
And so farewell.

EXE. Madam, kneel here; forgive me for your death.

MAR. With all my heart, thou art but law's poor hand.
Thus to my death I bow, and yet arise;
Angels, protect my spirit in the skies. [_He offers to strike._

PHIL. Hold, or thine hand shall be thine own destruction!

CYP. Never did music sound with better voice!
Unbind the lady.

FLO. The fear of death hath brought her to a swoon.

CYP. Endeavour her recovery.

EPIRE. Sister, dear sister, call thy spirits back:
Sister, O sister! hearken to my woes,
Recover breath, and live with happiness.

QUEEN. She stirs; give way to air, that she may breathe:
Speak, Mariana, thy woes are cancelled.

MAR. You are not charitable unto my moans,
Thus to afflict me with a double punishment.
One death for one poor fault might well suffice:
They are most wretched who twice live and die.

PHIL. Madam, to save your life, I kill my soul,
And speckle that which was immaculate.
Black perjury, that open-ey'd disease,
Which is the plague-sore of society,
Brands me with mischief, and protests I hold
Nothing within me but unworthiness:
And all these ills are your creation.

MAR. Which to wash off, lo, here I yield myself
An humble sacrifice to love and thee:
All my best hopes, my fortunes and my love,
My faith, my service, and my loyalty,
Shall as thy slaves attend on thy commands,
And make me famous in thy[187] suffrages.

CYP. Receive her, Philocles, for it pleaseth us.

PHIL. But not me, my thrice-royal sovereign;
I'd rather wed a sooty blackamore,
A leper, monster, incubus, or hag:
A wretch deform'd in nature, loath'd of men.
Than her that hath bemonster'd my pure soul.
Her scorn and pride had almost lost her life;
A maid so faulted seldom proves good wife.

QUEEN. What is the reason you not love her now,
And were so passionate in love before?

PHIL. Not that I love her less, but rather more,
Run I this backward course; only my vow
Sith unperform'd craves satisfaction:
Which thus I reconcile: when this fair maid
Shall with as strong a love, as firm a zeal,
A faith as constant, and a shame as strong,
Requite my care, and show as ample proof
In mine extremes, as I have in her death,
Then will I love, enjoy, and honour her;
Till when I will not think a loving thought,
Or give the easy temper of my mind
To lovesick passion or deliciousness;
Only with those which do adore the sun,
I'll give her all respect and reverence.

MAR. I am well pleas'd, and with a doubtful foe
You have good reason thus to capitulate:
Then hang your colours forth, extend your thought.
Muster your strongest powers of strictest wit;
And when your reason's best artillery's bent,
Love not my love, if't be not excellent.

CYP. I have not seen a war breed better wit.
Or passion draw on more delightfulness:
Proceed in your contention, for we boast,
That love is best which is approved most.
But now to revels, since our tragic scene
Is turn'd to comic mirthful constancy;
Instead of mourning, we will dance and banquet,
And fill our empty veins with all delights:
For oft we find that storms and sorrows prove
The best forerunners of a happy love.

[_Exeunt all but_ EPIRE.

EPIRE. He will, but he will not: loves, but cannot like.
Will and affection in this prince are like
Two buckets, which do never both ascend;
Or those star-twins which shine out in one sphere.
O Philocles, I see thy soul grows fat,
And feeds upon the glories of thy[188] fame;
But I'll forestall thine epileptic fits;
And by my plots breed thy destruction.
Revenge now rules as sovereign of my blood,
And others' ruins shall advance my good,
Which once attain'd to, I will prove ambitious,
Great men, like gods, are ne'er thought vicious.
Now, Philocles, stand fast; king, guard thy crown,
For by this brain you both shall tumble down. [_Exit._

_Enter_ VELOURS _and_ DRAP, PRECEDENT _sitting at_
_his desk_.

VEL. This is his chamber; let's enter, here's his clerk.

PRE. _Fondling, said she, since I have hemm'd thee here,_
_Within the circuit of this ivory pale._[189]

DRAP. I pray you, sir, help us to the speech of your master.