Chapter XIV: Act II: , Scene 1

_Enter_ PLANGUS, NICETES, ARAMNES.

NIC. What, sir, and are you melancholy, when fate Hath shower'd a happiness so unexpected on us? This ugly, sneaking peace is the soldier's rock He splits his fortunes on. Bawdry's a virtue to't. Pox o' these beaver hats, they make one's headache Worse than a cap of steel: and bear not off a knock The tenth part so well.

PLAN. You're mad for fighting, gentlemen, And we shall have enough of it. The Argives, fifty thousand strong, Have like a whirlwind borne down all before 'em; And I, with thirteen thousand, that remain Undisbanded of the last expedition, Have command to fight that multitude Of old tough soldiers: while ours, In a month or two, won't have pick'd up that valour That in this idle time hath slipp'd from them. They have forgot what noise a musket makes; And start if they but hear a drum. Are these fellows either enow, or fit, On whom a kingdom's safety should be built? Indeed, were they to encounter some mistress, Or storm a brothel-house, perhaps they'd venture; But for my part I yield; nor would I oppose my father: If he sees good we perish, I am already Sacrific'd; yet our enemies shall dearly purchase Their victory. Pray look to your charge, Nicetes, And you, Aramnes, with all care and speed; and when You come into the field, then let me see This countenance, that frowning smile, and I Shall like it: I love a man runs laughing Upon death. But we lose time in talk.

[_Exeunt_ NICETES _and_ ARAMNES.

SCENE II.

_Enter_ INOPHILUS.

INO. Your servant, captains. Sir, pray a word with you.

PLAN. Prythee, be short, Inophilus; thou know'st My business.

INO. Sir, I am mad to see your tameness: A man bound up by magic is not so still as you; Nothing was ever precipitated thus, And yet refus'd to see its ruin.

PLAN. Thou art tedious, I shall not tarry.

INO. You are made general.

PLAN. I know it.

INO. Against the Argives.

PLAN. So.

INO. With thirteen thousand men, no more, sir.

PLAN. I am glad on't, the honour is the greater.

INO. The danger is the greater; you will be kill'd, sir, And lose your army.

PLAN. Is this all? I care not.

INO. But so do I, and so do all your friends. I smell a rat, sir; there's juggling in this business; I am as confident of it as I am alive. The king might within this twenty-four hours Have made a peace on fair conditions.

PLAN. But dishonourable.

INO. And would not-- On a sudden useth the ambassadors scurvily, And provokes the Argives, yet himself In no posture of defence.

PLAN. But----

INO. Pray give me leave, sir. After this, you are on a sudden created general, And pack'd away with a crowd of unhewn fellows, Whose courage hangs as loose about them As a slut's petticoats. Sir, he had other spirits In the court created for such perils. Excuse me, I know you fear not to meet destruction; But where men are sure to perish, 'Twere well the persons were of less concernment. He might have let you stay'd till you had gather'd An army fit for your command, and sent Some petty things upon this expedition Whose loss would have been nothing, and of whom It might have been recorded in our story As an honour, that they died monuments Of the king's folly. But let that pass; You'll say perhaps, you only have a spirit Fit for such undertakings? I wish you had not; Your want then would not be half so grievous. But here is the prodigy! you must fight them presently. Come, 'tis a project put into the king's head By some who have a plot on you and him.

PLAN. It may be so, Inophilus, and I believe All this is true you tell me, and 't might startle A man were less resolv'd than I. But danger and I have been too long acquainted To shun a meeting now; I am engaged, and Cannot any ways come off with reputation. Hadst told me this before, perhaps I might Have thought on't; and yet I should not neither. If the king thinks I am grown dangerous, It is all one to me which way he takes Me from his fears. He could not do it Handsomer than thus; it makes less noise now-- But come, I must not fear such things, Inophilus: The king hath more virtue and honour than To do these actions, fit only for guilty souls; Nor must I fear, when my Inophilus fights by me.

INO. Troth, sir, for all your compliment, if you've No valour but what owes itself to my company, you're like To make cold breakfast of your enemies: I have other business than to throw away My life, when there is so much odds against it: I'll stay at home, and pray for you, that's all, sir.

PLAN. How! wilt not go then, Inophilus?

INO. The time hath been, I thought it better sport To bustle through a bristly grove of pikes; When I have courted rugged danger with Hotter desires than handsome faces, And thought no woman half so beautiful As bloody gaping wounds: But, sir, To go and cast away myself now would not Be gallant, nor an action worth my envy: 'Tis weakness to make those that seek my ruin Laugh at my folly, With jaws stretch'd wider than the gulf that swallows us. I know when honour calls me, and when treason counterfeits Her voice.

PLAN. Well, stay at home and freeze, And lose all sense of glory in A mistress' arms. Go, perish tamely, drunk With sin and peace; and may'st thou, since thou dar'st Not die with them, Outlive thy noble friends.

INO. I thank you, sir, but I cannot be angry.

SCENE III.

_Enter_ NICETES _and_ ARAMNES, _with some Captains and
Soldiers_.

NIC. Yonder's the bones o' th' army ralli'd up Together, but they look'd rather as if They came home from being soundly beaten. Methinks such tatter'd rogues should never conquer, Victory would look so scurvily among 'em, They'd so bedaub her if she wore clean linen.

CAPT. Sir, we wear as sound hearts in these torn breeches, As e'er a courtier of them all. We are not afraid of spoiling our hands for want Of gloves, nor need we almond-butter, when We go to bed. And though my lieutenant Is pleased to be a little merry, you Shall see us die as handsomely in these old clothes As those wear better, and become our wounds As well, and perhaps smell as sweet When we are rotten.

PLAN. We hope it. Captains and fellow-soldiers, we are proud Of this occasion to try your valours; You shall go no farther than your prince doth, I'll be no bringer up of rears. Let not The number of the foe affright you, The more they are, the more will the honour be. The lion scorns to prey upon a hare, Nor is the blinking taper fit to try eagles' eyes. The weight of glory makes our danger light. When victory comes easily, 'tis half A shame to conquer.

[_Soldiers shout, and exeunt._

INO. I'll stay at home, and grieve, that so many Daring souls should die on such advantage.

[_Exit_ INOPHILUS.

SCENE IV.

_Enter the_ KING _solus_.

KING. Her husband dead too! Fates, let me die, I am too happy to remain long thus Without a ruin, great as the height I fell from. Plangus was my only obstacle; but him I have Removed. But love commanded: His presence would have countermanded all attempts; I need not fear his magic at this distance. His looks and actions were one entire enchantment, All[84]-powerful over a lady's heart. I sent for her; but she's not come yet. Who waits without?

_Enter_ ARTESIO.

ART. There's a mourning lady, sir, Would speak with the king.

KING. Admit her, and begone.

SCENE V.

_Enter_ ANDROMANA _in mourning, with a hood over her face,
which she throws up when she sees the_ KING.

KING. So riseth Phoebus from the gloomy night, While pale-fac'd Dian maketh haste to hide Her borrow'd glory in some neighb'ring cloud, Envying the beauty of the new-born day, When darkness crowds into the other world. Madam, why kneel you? You, at whose name monarchs

[_She kneels._

Themselves might tremble, and mortals bow With reverence great as they pay to altars: Sceptres should break in pieces and adore you; At whose sight the sun and moon should blush Themselves to blood and darkness, and falling From their sphere, crush the audacious world to atoms, For daring to behold a lustre so much greater Than their own.

AND. Sir, give me leave to wonder What sin I have committed, which calling Down the vengeance of the gods, Hath made me author of all this blasphemy. Sir, I beseech your majesty, if you are angry With your creature, speak some cruel word and blast me. Scorn me not into the other world, where I have Sins enough of my own to blush for, and shall not need To dye his cheeks for other men's offences.

KING. Lady, though Parthian darts are not so sharp As are those killing words; yet that breath, which Utters them is sweeter than the morning dew. I'll be dumb, for praises cannot add, but rather Diminish Andromana's worth.

AND. I wonder now no longer at this language, 'Tis such as kings are bred in. But I beseech you, sir, if there be aught You will command your servant--if Andromana Must do or suffer anything for great Ephorbas, Lay by yourself a minute, and remember A merchant's wife must hear you.

KING. Your husband Leon's dead, I hear, lady--

[_She weeps._

Nay, spare those pearls, madam; cast not away Such treasure upon the memory of one Who, if the best of men, deserves them not. Come, come, forget these sorrows, lady, And wear not mourning weeds before the world's Destruction; hide not those fair eyes, whose splendour Would enrich our court. Madam, though none There be in court can merit such a beauty, Yet I myself have taken pains to search A husband for you: what think you of myself?

AND. Great sir, your care is, like yourself, all noble; But suits with me no better Than Phoebus' horses did with Phaeton, Ruin'd the world and him. First, sir, you do Debase yourself to honour her, whose worth Is less considerable than lovers' oaths: My husband's ashes are scarce cold yet, And would your majesty have me forsake My honour and his memory so soon? I have Not paid oblations due to's ashes yet.

KING. You compliment away the worth we know You have, Andromana: what say you to the prince?

AND. I say he is the prince, and great Ephorbas' son; He's Plangus: and if you think there yet remains A title that can be either better or greater, I think him worthy of it.

KING. But dost [thou] think him worthy Andromana?

AND. O heavens! Is Jove worth heav'n, Or doth the sun deserve to be a light To all the world? Can virtue deserve honour, Or labour riches? Can gods merit altars? It might have been a puzzling question To them whose ears have not been bless'd With Plangus' worth. But this is so below him----

KING. But say he loves thee?

AND. I dare not say so: For when I think a prince pretends to such poor things As I am, I feel an ice runs through my veins, And my blood curdles into flakes of snow, And bids me fear him--not with an awe or reverence, But as a spotted sinful thing, which is The worse for being great. 'Tis such a fear, As I should conceive 'gainst an armed ravisher.

KING. These things may be expected, lady, I confess, From blood that boils in flames hot as the sun In scorching Libra, or sturdy Hercules, When he unmaiden'd fifty in one night; But from a man whose years have tam'd those vices, Whose love is dotage and not lust, Who doth adore a handsome virtue, and pays His vows to't, you should have other hopes. Plangus is young, a soldier, and by consequence Something which youth excuses. But Ephorbas Hath left these toys behind him, when he shook off His youth.

AND. Sir, now my fears are out. O virtue! Are there just pow'rs which men adore, and throw Away their pray'rs upon, that lend their eyes To human actions? or was the name of heaven Invented to still petty sinners? Sir, sure, I am mistaken, You are not great Ephorbas, sir, whose virtue Is a theme of wonder to all neighbour nations; Pray help me to him, I would see that angel; The kingdom's honour and [all] good men's sanctuary. But if you are the man, whom I have pray'd for Oft'ner than I have slept; pray, sir, belie not A virtue which I've hitherto admired.

KING. I see You are a stranger, lady--give me leave To say so--to Ephorbas; But if a lady of thy melting years Can love this greyness, I vow my sceptre, Throne, kingdom, and myself are thine; Thou'rt fit to be a queen.

[_She starts back._

AND. A queen! sir, have your subjects anger'd you? Have they rebell'd, or done some sin that wants A name? I'll cleave to the pavement, till I have begg'd A vengeance great as their crime; but this You mention is a punishment, which your subjects Must study years to curse you for; no sin Deserves it. You would blind my eyes with throwing gold Before 'em, Or set me up so high on the steep pinnacle Of honour's temple, that you would have me not be Able to look down on my own simplicity. You can create me great, I know, sir, But good you cannot. You might compel, Entice me too, perhaps, to sin. But Can you allay a gnawing conscience, Or bind up bleeding reputation? I did never hear that physic could afford A remedy for a wounded honour.

EPH. Thou'rt a fool, Andromana. You must be mine. Consider on't.

AND. You may command your vassal.

KING. That's kindly said.

AND. But--I humbly take my leave; Goodness protect you!

[_Exit._

SCENE VI.

_Enter_ RINATUS, EUBULUS, _and_ ARAMNES.

EPH. Wait on that lady forth.

RIN. Would there were not a woman in the world, So we had our prince again! Sir, are you mad? Or have forgot you are a father? You Have undone us all.

EPH. Why, what's the matter?

RIN. O sir, the prince----

EPH. He is not dead, Rinatus, is he?

RIN. Sir, if he be, 'tis you have murder'd him: Was it for this you were so jealous t'other day? May my Inophilus never pretend to virtue, I'll teach him a more thriving art. Come to the window a little, sir, and hear How the good people curse you. As cold weather As it is, some are so hard at it, they sweat again.

EPH. Prythee, unriddle; hast thou drunk hemlock, Since I saw thee last?

RIN. I would not be in my wits for anything I' th' world; my grief would kill me if I were. He's mad that will speak sense or reason, Now you have thrown away our prince thus: Whose innocence was clearer than his own eyes: Can you think how you have murder'd so much virtue, And not blush yourself to death?

EPH. I think indeed I sent him general Against the Argives; but--'twas his own desire.

RIN. 'Twas not his own desire, sir, to have But thirteen thousand men, sir, was it? Was that army fit to oppose great Argo? There came a messenger just now, that saw The prince not sixteen miles from hence (For thither is the foe marched) draw up his men T' engage the enemy.

EPH. For heav'n's sake, Rinatus, post him back again, bid him retreat; Command my son from me Not to go on till greater forces follow him. If it be possible, redeem the error; I'd give my kingdom, life, or anything, It were to do again.

RIN. I am glad to see this now; Heav'n send it be n't too late!

EPH. Nay, stand not prating.

[_A horn within._

RIN. 'Tis from the army, sir. O heaven, I fear!

EPH. If from the army, prythee, put on better looks.

_Enter_ MESSENGER.

MES. Your son--nay more, your dying son-- Commanded me to bring you word, He died true to his honour, king, and countrymen; Nor let me stay to see the brightest lamp Go out, that ever grac'd this orb.

[_The_ KING _faints_.

RIN. O heaven, the king! why this is worse, sir, Than the other; let us not lose you both.

EPH. Let me but hear how 'twas he made his exit, And then my glass is run: I will not live One minute longer.

MES. Sir, thus it was---- 'Tis scarce three hours ago, since the brave Plangus Marched from Lixa with an army, Whose souls were richer than their clothes by far, Though their valour had put on all the bravery That soldiers ever wore. The prince, whose presence Breathed new fire into these flaming spirits, Resolv'd to meet the enemy with his handful, And with a winged speed fell down to th' Elean Straits, Determining to try it with him there.[85] His soldiers also, True sons of war, contemning so great odds, When victory and their country was to crown The conquerors, whetted their eager valours With impatient expectation of the enemy Who, trusting to his multitude, came on Wing'd both with scorn and anger to see, that paucity Should dare dispute victory against their odds. Plangus who, though he saw, yet could not fear Destruction, and scorn'd to avoid it, When the king commanded him to meet it, Marshall'd his army to the best advantage, And having given Zopiro the left wing, The body to Evarnes, himself chose out the right; Because he would be opposite to Argo. And keeping a reserve, as great as could be hop'd for From so small a company--not above five hundred men, He gave the command of them to Zenon, Who with his fellows took it ill they should Be so long idle, and had not the honour To be thought worthy To die with the most forward, and would, no question, Have refused the charge; but that the smiling Prince promis'd them they should have time to die. Words here were useless, nor had he time to use them.

RIN. What, was Inophilus idle all this while?

MES. I only heard the prince wish, just as he Spurred his horse against the valiant Argo, He had fewer by a thousand men: So he had Inophilus.

RIN. O traitorous boy!

MESS. The prince and Argo met; and like Two mighty tides encountered. Here death Put on her sable livery, and the two gallants, Whose valour animated each army, bandied a long time With equal force, till at last Great Argo fell. And, on a sudden, multitudes of men Accompani'd him, so that the wing Went presently to rout and execution. Zopiro also and Evarnes, having slain Their opposite leaders, breath'd death and destruction To their reeling foes. Thus flush'd With victory and blood, th' Iberians revell'd Th[o]rough the flying field, till there came on The enemy's reserve of twenty thousand men, Who, fresh and lusty, grinded their teeth for anger At their fellows' overthrow, and pouring on Our weary soldiers, turn'd the stream of victory. But the prince's valour and good fortune soon O'ercame this opposition, and having rallied His broken troops, went to relieve his friends, Who had far'd worse; when presently he saw Evarnes, who had pil'd up enemies about him, As an obelisk of his own death and victory, Fall bleeding at his foot, and having kiss'd it With his dying lips, entreated him to save Himself for a more happy day, and died. 'Twas not long after the gallant Zenon Who had perform'd that day deeds of eternal fame, And with his few, spite of opposition, thrice charg'd And routed some thousands of the enemy, Expir'd; which when the prince beheld, Weeping for anger, he flew amongst his enemies, Sustain'd only by the greatness of his courage, For blood and strength had both forsook him; He spent that spark of life was left in him, In slaughter and revenge, when leaning on His weapon's point, that dropp'd with blood as fast As he, he then conjur'd me with all speed Only to tell the king I saw him Die worthy of his father and himself.

[_A horn without. A shout._

EPH. O heaven! what mean these acclamations? What, do

[_A shout again._

The Iberians welcome their bloody conquerors With so much joy?

SCENE VII.

_Enter_ PLANGUS, INOPHILUS, _and_ ZOPIRO, _Captains_.

EPH. O, O!

[_He faints._

RIN. O cowardly boy! for that base word includes All baseness, doth not shame kill thee, Or fear chill thy dastard blood to an ice, At sight of that most noble injur'd ghost? 'Tis well, dear Plangus (if thy divinity deserve not A more lasting name) that thou art come To take revenge on that most traitorous son, In's father's presence, who detests his baseness More than thyself can do----

PLAN. Excuse us, dear Rinatus, That wonder froze to such a silence, If when we expected such a welcome As had that Roman son whose mother died For joy to see him, we found so cold An entertainment, something made us look'd upon So like an inconvenience, that we could Not but put on some small amazement.

EPH. And do I hear thee speak again, And see thee, or only dream a happiness, Whose reality stars and my genius deny me? Or art thou Plangus' angel, come to rouse Me from despair?

PLAN. Sir, pray, believe it; and be not Backward in th' entertainment of these soldiers, If you esteem't a happiness; in a word, You are a conqueror: and th' audacious Argives Have paid their lives as sacrifices To your offended sword.

EPH. A messenger of comfort to a despairing lover Is a less acceptable thing than this thy presence; If what yon fellow told me were untruth, Thy welcome sight hath amply made amends For those tormenting fears he put me to. But if it were not, let me know what chance Redeem'd you?

PLAN. If you have heard how things then went, when I Sent away that messenger----

EPH. Yes, I have heard it.

PLAN. Then know, when death and our own fates had sworn Our ruin, and we, like some strong wall that long Resists the iron vomits of the flaming cannon, At last shakes itself into a dreadful ruin To those who throw it down; so had the Iberians, With valour great as the cause they fought for, Strove with a noble envy, who should first[86] Outgo his fellow in slaughtering the Argives: At last, oppress'd with multitude and toil, We sunk under the unequal burden; Then was our emulation chang'd, and who before Strove to outdo each other, now eagerly contended To run the race of death first. Sir, there it was I (and many other braver captains) fell, Being one wound from head to foot. O, then It was Inophilus came in, With about twenty other gallants, and with what speed The nimble lightning flies from east to west, Redeem'd this bleeding trunk, which the Insulting Argive had encompass'd, Blown up with victory and pride; he with A gallantry like none but great Inophilus, Being bravely back'd by his own soldiers, Whose actions spoke them more than men, had not Inophilus been by, redeem'd the honour Of a bleeding day. And thus are[87] [now] our troops, As little in number[88] as their valour great, Enrich'd with victory, blood, and jewels, Of which the opposite army wanted no store, Return'd with the renown of an achievement, As full of glory and honour to the conquerors, As ruin to the Argives.

INO. My liege, Had this action and my merit been so great As our prince would make it, I then might Own it, and expect reward.---- But it was so small, so much below my duty, That I must, upon my knees, beg pardon That I came no sooner.

EPH. This is a prodigy Beyond whatever yet was wrote in story. Inophilus, we have been too backward In cherishing thy growing virtue, we will Hereafter mend it. And, dear Rinatus, be proud of thy brave son, And let the people honour the remaining army; We shall esteem it as a favour done to us. We have a largess for your valorous captains, You have not fought in vain. This day let our court put on its greatest jollity, And let none wear a discontented brow; For where a frown is writ, we'll think it reason To say, that face hath characters of treason.

[_Exeunt._