Chapter XIII: Act I: , Scene 1

_Enter_ NICETES _and_ ARAMNES.

NIC. I have observ'd it too; but the cause is As unknown to me as actions done In countries not found out yet.

ARA. Some wench, my life to a brass farthing!

NIC. As like as may be: We soldiers are all given that way; especially, When our blood boils high, and [our] pulses beat Alarms to Cupid's battles; we are apter To sally on a young [in]flaming girl, Than on an enemy that braves it Before our trenches.

ARA. I ask it not to know his privacies; for if His freedom doth not acquaint me with them, Let them be secret still: yet I could wish An opportunity to tell him A little circumspection would Be handsome, and set a gloss upon all. Times might be chosen of less public notice: It looks so poorly in a prince to be Thus careless of his own affairs: men do So talk on it. Here comes Inophilus; If anybody knows, it must be he.

_Enter_ INOPHILUS.

INO. Your servant, captains. Saw you the prince to-day?

NIC. Not we: we hop'd to hear of him from you.

INO. 'Tis strange a man, adorn'd with so much wisdom, Should on the sudden fall off from the care Of his own fame! I am his friend, and so, I know, are you; but to speak plainly to you, He's grown my wonder now as much As other men's. I, that have found a sweetness In his company beyond whatever Lovers dream of in a mistress, that as He spoke, methought have smell'd the air perfum'd; Nor could have wished a joy greater Than living with him, next those of heaven; And those preferr'd the more, because I knew Plangus would be there. I say, even I of late am grown out of love With anything that's mortal; since I've found Plangus so far beneath (I will not say My expectations) but the assurances All good men had of future gallantry. He's melancholy now, and hath thrown off The spirit which so well became him; and all That sweetness which bewitch'd men's hearts is grown So rugged, so incompos'd to all commerce, Men fear he'll shortly quarrel with himself. Nay more, he doth not answer the fondness Of his father's love with half that joy He us'd to do.

ARA. 'Tis now about a week I have observ'd This alteration; it shakes him, like an ague, Once in two days, but holds him longer Than a fit o' th' gout. They whisper about the court As if the king had chid him for it, And now at length [had] found his haunts----

INO. A poor discovery! Who might not find 'em out, That would be so uncivil? I was about To follow him, but thought it an ignoble way, Beneath the name of friendship, and so desisted. About four days ago, meeting him i' th' long gallery, I ask'd him how he did? Taking me by the hand, He wrung it, and after a sigh or two, told me, "Not very well, but he had business"--and so we parted. I saw him not again in twenty hours after; And then I ask'd him where he'd been so long? He told me (as if he was ashamed To deny me such a poor request) I must not know: And when I told him his often absence was observ'd, Is it? (saith he) I cannot help it; but it shall No more be so; and at the last he stole away: Since when I saw him not.

NIC. O this wicked peace! Inophilus, Is there no hopes of war? To lie at home to see our armours rust; We could keep the prince sober and merry too, If he would but exchange his court for a camp.

INO. The king is old, and doats upon his son; Is loth to venture him to danger: Yet at this time there is occasion. The Argives have refus'd to pay their tribute, And are for certain preparing for invasion: Some say they have got into Iberia already.

ARA. Nay, then there's hopes; If we could but find the prince with a buff-coat again, I should be once more merry.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ EPHORBAS _the King_, RINATUS, EUBULUS, _and_ ARAMNES,
_three Lords_.

EPH. See the ambassadors entertain'd With such an evenness as should be us'd to men We neither fear nor love; let neither Too much obsequiousness teach them insolency, Nor any ill-usage brand us with incivility: Stay you, Rinatus.

[_He sighs. Exeunt_ EUBULUS _and_ ARAMNES.

Open thy bosom, and receive torrents of sorrow, That lie like rocks of lead upon my soul; Honest Rinatus, experience bids me trust thee With a mighty secret. Thou canst not choose But know my son of late is much retir'd. I do not like that youth should be thus melancholy: Let them enjoy themselves; for age will come, Whose impotency will deny all pleasures. I do believe he loves me. Ha?

RIN. Yes, doubtless, better than sick men health; Or those who are penn'd up in darkness Love the sun.

EPH. I speak not, as if I thought he did not; For thou know'st I humour him, afford him Liberty enough; I never chide him, nor express The least dislike of any action. Am not I a gentle father? Methinks, were I a son again to such a father, I should not think he liv'd too long; shouldst thou, Rinatus?

RIN. No more doth he, upon my soul: One command of yours would make him venture upon Lightning, nay, almost make him act a sin, A thing he fears to name.

EPH. I do believe thee: But yet, methinks, should he be grown so impious, There might be found excuses. A crown is a temptation; especially so near one: 'Tis not with princes as with other sons; And I am told too-- Hath not my hand the palsy?-- Doth a crown become grey hairs? To be a king Might make some men forswear all conscience. But I know Plangus hath far nobler thoughts; And yet an empire might excuse a parricide.

RIN. Sir, sure, you are a stranger to your son; For, give me leave to say, your fears are vain: So great a virtue as the prince's cannot Anticipate his hopes by any sin. Honour and duty have been acquainted with him now Too long to be divorc'd. Some sycophants there are (Such creatures still will haunt the court), I know, Love not the prince, because he loves not them. Sir, shut your ears to them: they will betray you To your ruin. Jealousy's a disease Should be below a king, as that which seizeth On the basest spirits. O, shut it from your soul! One may read in story what dire effects The fury hath brought forth. Kings make away Their only sons, and princes their fathers; And when they have done, they may despair at leisure.

EPH. I do not think Plangus Hath plots or on my crown or me; He was virtuous always, and is still, I hope: But why is he so much from court then, and alone too? I do but ask the question.

RIN. It can be no design, believe me, sir; For crowns are won by other courses. Aspirers must grow popular, be hedg'd about With their confederates. Then would he flatter you, Be jolly still, as if no melancholy thought were in him. A guilty conscience would then teach him policy, And he would seek to take suspicion from all his carriages; Innocence makes him careless now.

EPH. Thou hast almost resolv'd me, The tempest in my soul is almost laid, And wants but time to calm it. Youth hath its whimsies, nor are we To examine all their paths too strictly. We went awry ourselves when we were young.

RIN. Sir!

EPH. Thou may'st be gone, Rinatus.

[_Exit_ RINATUS.

SCENE III.

EPHORBAS _solus_.

The blessing of an honest servant! This Rinatus is truer unto me. He loves the king as well as I Ephorbas; And may I live but to reward him, For he's too honest for a court.

_Enter_ ARTESIO.

How now, Artesio? thy looks speak strong amazement; I am with child to hear the news: prythee, Be quick in the delivery.

ART. The prince, an't please your majesty----

EPH. What of him, Artesio?

ART. I have observ'd, is much retir'd of late.

EPH. So have I too; this is no news.

ART. And I can whisper in your ear the cause. 'Twas chance, no policy of mine, betray'd his privacies: Ill-offices are not the engines I desire To rise by, only love to the young prince Makes me reveal them.

EPH. Nay, nay, without apology; If it were treason, it should not go down The sooner for all the gilded preparation. Nor am I of so feminine a humour As to mistrust affection delivered bluntly: Plain meaning should be plainly told; Bad wares may have false lights, good can abide the day.

ART. But I know the nature of my office; Though kings still hug suspicion in their bosoms, They hate the causers; love to hear secrets too, Yet the revealers still fare the worse, Being either thought guilty of ends or weakness; And so esteem'd by those they tell them to Either unfit or dangerous to be trusted. Perhaps, sir, when the prince and you are friends again You'll tell me that, had my love been real, I should have whisper'd the prince's errors to himself.

EPH. Without a syllable of prologue more, Or I shall verify your fears.

ART. In this brave city (take it as brief as may be) There lives a beauty, fit to command Them that command the world, And might be Alexander's mistress, were he yet alive, And had added empires as large as his desires: She's but a private merchant's wife; Yet the prince is so far gravell'd in her affection, I fear----

EPH. Then there is hopes I may recall him: Love is a childish evil, though the effects Are dangerous. A prince's errors grown public Will be scandalous. Poor boy! perhaps The jealous husband may commit a murder; I would not have him cut off so young: Love should be princes' recreation, not their business. What physic must we give him for his cure?

ART. I dare not counsel you; But in my poor judgment some gentle Fatherly persuasions will work upon so good a nature.

EPH. Couldst thou but possibly effect, how I Might take him napping?

ART. That is beyond my skill: But I can show you the house and time he walks From hence in, which will be about an hour Hence; for then her husband comes home from The Rialto.

EPH. Time will not tarry for a king; let's go.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.

INO. What is become of this young prince? or where Doth he bestow himself? Doth he walk invisible? Where have I [not] been to look him? the horses Are in the stables, his page and I at home too, That us'd to be as inseparable companions.

_Enter_ NICETES, ARAMNES.

ARA. Well met, gentlemen! where is the hermit Plangus?

NIC. We cannot tell, nor have we been to seek him. If at the court, we should hear presently; if not, We might be too officious in his search, and our Inquiry might make his absence But so much the more notorious; and I'm confident He's well: his virtue guards him still from all mischances.

INO. Though his company's the dearest thing I love, Yet for his good I could digest his absence, But that I doubt a mighty mischief might spring From this small grain of indiscretion. The king is old, and there are knaves about the court That (if he knew it not) would tell him so: And men, conscious to themselves of a deficiency, Are still most jealous of a growing worth. Perhaps a thinking father (for plodding Is old age's sickness) may take notice of His son's retirement, and misconstrue it so: Nothing is impossible: heaven send it otherwise!

ARA. This care becomes you, sir; but I dare swear 'Tis needless: the king is but an ill dissembler; and had he But the least thought of such a thing, he'd hide it Less than the sun conceals his brightness: Besides, a man as great as Ephorbas is, whose rule Of living hath been directed by the line Of virtue, cannot mistrust that vice in his Own son, of which himself was never guilty; Had his younger years been tainted with inordinate Desires, or had his crown been the effect Of some audacious crime, perhaps his guilty Conscience might have mistrusted. But 'tis impossible, where there is no guilt, To fear a punishment.

INO. You speak my hopes: But this for certain, gentlemen: the king, Who was admired for his matchless sleeping, Whose night no noise disturb'd, and it was difficult To wake before his hour, sleeps but unquietly of late, Will start at midnight, and cry _Plangus_: Is greedy after news, and walks unevenly, And sometimes on the sudden looks behind him; And when one speaks to him, scarcely marks one syllable. Surely the mind of some distemper shakes His soul into this looseness.

_Enter_ MESSENGER.

MES. My lord, the prince desires To meet you half an hour hence i' th' gallery.

INO. Me?

MES. Yes, my lord.

INO. I shall. Your servant, captains.

ALL. Yours, my lord.

[_Exeunt at several doors._

SCENE V.

PLANGUS, ANDROMANA.

PLAN. It cannot be so late.

AND. Believe't, the sun is set, my dear, And candles have usurp'd the office of the day.

PLAN. Indeed, methinks a certain mist, Like darkness, hangeth[81] on my eyelids. But too great lustre may undo the sight: A man may stare so long upon the sun That he may look his eyes out; and certainly 'Tis so with me: I have so greedily Swallow'd thy light that I have spoil'd my own.

AND. Why shouldst thou tempt me to my ruin thus? As if thy presence were less welcome to me Than day to one who, 'tis so long ago He saw the sun, hath forgot what light is. Love of thy presence makes me wish this absence. Phoebus himself must suffer an eclipse, And clouds are still foils to the brightest splendour: Some short departure will (like [to] a river Stopp'd) make the current of our pleasures run The higher at our next meeting.

PLAN. Alas, my dearest! tell those so That know not what it is to part from blessing; Bid not him surfeit to taste health's sweetness, That knows what 'tis to groan under a disease.

AND. Then let us stand and outface danger, Since you will have it so; despise report, And contemn scandals into nothing, Which vanish with the breath that utters 'em; Love is above these vanities. Should the Innocent thing my husband take thee here, He could not spite me but by growing jealous; And jealousy's black[est] effect would be a cloister, Perhaps to kill me too: but that's impossible-- I cannot die so long as Plangus loves me. Yet say this piece of earth should play the coward, And fall at some unlucky stroke, Love would transport my better half to its centre [In] Plangus' heart, and I should live in him. But, sir, you have a fame to lose, which should be A prince's only care and darling: which Should have an eternity beyond his life: If he should take that from you, I should be Killed indeed.

PLAN. Why dost thou use These arguments to bid me go, Yet chain me to thy tongue, while the angel-like Music of thy voice, ent'ring my thirsty ears, Charms up my fears to immobility? 'Tis more impossible for me to leave thee Than for this carcase to quoit[82] away its gravestone, When it lies destitute of a soul t' inform it. Mariners might with far greater ease Hear whole shoals of Sirens singing, And not leap out to their destruction, Than I forsake so dangerous a sweetness.

AND. I will be dumb then.

PLAN. I will be deaf first. I have thought a way now, I'll run from hence, and leave my soul behind me. It shall be so--and yet it shall not neither: What! shall a husband banish a prince his house For fear? A husband! 'tis but an airy title; I will command there shall be no such thing, And then Andromana is mine, or his, Or any man's she will herself. These ceremonies Fetter the world, and I was born to free it. Shall man, that noble creature, be afraid Of words, things himself made? Shall sounds, A thing of seven small letters, give check T'a prince's will?

AND. Did you not promise me, dear sir? Have you not sworn, too, you would not stay beyond the time? Have oaths no more validity with princes? Let me not think so.

PLAN. Come, I will go; thou shalt not ask in vain. But let us kiss at parting; it may be Our last, perhaps-- I cannot now move one foot, though all the furies Should whip me forward with their snakes. Woman, thou stol'st my heart--just now thou stol'st it. A cannon bullet might have kiss'd my lips, And left me as much life.

[_The_ KING, _having listened, comes in softly_.

Are we betray'd?
What art? speak, or resolve to die.

KING. A well-wisher of the prince's.

PLAN. The king? It cannot be!

[_He starts._

KING. Though thou hast thrown all nature off, I cannot what's my duty. Ungracious boy! Hadst been the offspring of a sinful bed, Thou might'st have claim'd adult'ry as inheritance; Lust would have been thy kinsman, And what enormity thy looser life Could have been guilty of had found excuse In an unnatural conception. Prythee, hereafter seek another father: Ephorbas cannot call him son that makes Lust his deity. Had I but known (But we are hoodwink'd still to all mischances) I should have had a son that would make it His study to embrace corruption, and Take delight in unlawful sheets. I would Have hugg'd a monster in mine arms Before thy mother. Good, O heavens! What will this world come to at last? When princes, that should be the patterns Of all virtue, lead up the dance to vice! What shall we call our own, when our own wives Banish their faith, and prove false to us? Have I with so much care promis'd myself So pleasing a spring of comfort, and are all Those blossoms nipp'd, and buds burnt up by th' fire Of lust and sin?-- Have I thus long laboured against the billows, That did oppose my growing hopes, And must I perish in the haven's mouth? No gulf but this to be devoured in? Could not youth's inclination find out Another rock to split itself upon? Hadst thou hugg'd drunkenness, the wit Or mirth of company might have excus'd it. Prodigality had been a sin a prince Might have been proud in compared to this. Or had thy greener years incited thee To treason and attempt a doubting father's crown, T' had been a noble vice. Ambition Runs through the veins of princes; it brings forth Acts [as] great as themselves and it; spurs on To honour, and resolves great things. But this--this lechery is such a thing, sin is Too brave a name for it. A prince (I might say son,[83] But let that pass), and dare to show himself To nought but darkness and black chambers, Whose motions, like some planet, are all eccentric: Not two hours together in his own sphere, The court?--but I am tame to talk thus; Begone, with as much speed as a coward would Avoid his death; and never more presume To look upon this woman, [upon] this whore: Thou losest both thy eyes and me else.

[PLANGUS _is going out, but comes again._

PLAN. [O] sir, the reverence that I owe my father, And the injury I have done this gentlewoman, Had charm'd me up to silence; but I must Speak something for her honour: When I have done, command me to the altar. Whilst (I confess) you tainted me with sin, I did applaud you, and condemn myself-- It looked like a father's care--but when You us'd that term of whore to her that stands there, I would have given ten thousand kingdoms, You had had no more relation to me Than hath the northern to the southern pole. I should Have flown to my revenge swifter than lightning. But I forbear; and pray, imagine not What I had done----

KING. Upon my life, she's very handsome.

[_Aside._

PLAN. To be a whore is more unknown to her, Than what is done in the Antipodes; She is so pure she cannot think a sin, Nor ever heard the name to understand it.

KING. No doubt, these private meetings were to read Her moral lectures, and teach her chastity!

PLAN. Nay, give me leave, sir. I do not say My addresses have been all so virtuous; For whatsoever base desires a flaming Beauty could kindle in a heart, were all alive In me, and prompted me to seek some ease By quenching burnings hotter than Ãtna. Imagine but a man that had drunk mercury, And had a fire within his bones, Whose blood was hotter than the melted ore! If he should wish for drink, nay, steal it too, Could you condemn him?

EPH. Marri'd, do they say?

[_Aside._

PLAN. I did endure a heat seas could not cool; It would have kill'd a salamander. Then, taught both impudence and wit, I singled out my foe, us'd all the arts That love could think upon, and in the end Found a most absolute repulse.

KING. Well, Plangus, youth excuses the first fault; But a relapse exceeds all pardon.

[_Exeunt_ KING _and_ PLANGUS.

SCENE VI.

AND. Curs'd be old age, and he that first Number'd fourscore! What devil has betray'd us to a doating fool? Did I but now promise myself, what hopes Ambitious thoughts could reach; and shall I sink Down to my first foundation without the pleasure of A tasted greatness? Death and disgrace! I dare provoke the utmost of your malice, After the sweetness of some sharp revenge.

_Enter_ LIBACER _in haste_.

LIB. Madam, my master.

AND. You may both hang together.

LIB. Why, this it is, if a man should kill his father For you, he should be thus rewarded; as soon as Your turn's served, I may be hang'd that did it.

AND. Since he is dead, how was it done?

LIB. Why, nothing; only as he was taking water At the Rialto, his foot slipp'd a little, And he came tumbling in the sea; Whence he was taken up, but not alive.

AND. Heav'n prospers not these courses, I see it plainly; let them be acted with as much closeness, Or to what end soever, they never thrive. Libacer, We are undone, undone; the king hath found His son here, and I have lost him to eternity.

LIB. You women are the shallowest creatures; You never look beyond the present. Rome was not built in one day, madam; Greatness is never sweet that comes too easily. Should Plangus be a fool now, and obey his father-- Pox o' this virtue, it spoils most men living. We have hopes yet: revenge is something; And if my old trade fail not. Princes are mortal as well as other men; Yet my soul inspires me with half a confidence That Leon hath not died in vain. I use to see As far into mischief as another: I'll go to him, And if I bring him not within this half hour, As hot and eager on the scent as e'er he was, Take me and hang me at my coming home-- Madam, here is a messenger from court.

[_As he is going out he meets_ ARTESIO.

AND. If from thence, I may be bold to ask How Plangus, the noblest prince alive, doth?

ART. Madam, as well as soldiers can That are sick for honour; I suppose by this time H' hath left the court, and is gone in quest for glory, Which h' intends to ravish from young Argo's brow, The valiant leader of the Argives' army.

AND. I'm confident then, sir, Your business is not to me; if anybody else Hath sent you, sir, be pleas'd to spare the message, And tell them, I neither have learned the tricks O' th' court, nor yet intend it; I want no new gowns, And have heard men forswear themselves In better language and to better purpose Than gaining of a lady's honour.

ART. Madam, my business is from the king, Who doth entreat you would be pleas'd to bless The court this afternoon with your fair presence, And bring an answer; I must not stay for one.

[_Exit_ ARTESIO.

AND. Now we do see an end of all our mischiefs; The prince hath gone from court, and the king Hath sent for us. Doth not the name Strike terror to thy curdling blood?

LIB. No, by my troth, not at all. As far as I see, you're better than you were. I'll lay my life the old man would turn gamester. Take my counsel, play deep, or not at all: Not an ace under a kingdom. Your grace, I hope, will remember your poor friends.

AND. If I do find any such thing, Let me alone to melt his ice. Go, get me mourning with all haste.

[_Exit_ LIBACER.

Let froward Fortune do her worst; I shall Create my greatness, or attempting fall: And when I fall, I will deserve my ruin.

[_Exit._