Chapter XVI: Act IV: , Scene 1

_Enter_ EPHORBAS, _solus_.

EPH. For aught I know, my bed may be the next; Men are not bad by halves, nor doth one mischief Stop a man in his career of sin. There's as much reason i' th' one as th' other. Doth he affect my kingdom, 'cause I'm old? No, that's not it; he knows I must die shortly. 'Tis not a desire of rule, and glory of Their bending knees makes him forget his duty. He may as well covet Andromana, 'cause she's handsome. He satisfies a lust alike in both. Well, let him be My rival in the kingdom; 'tis but what He was born to, and I must leave it him; But for my wife he must excuse me--nay, He shall [_Pauses._]----Yet now I think on't better, The grounds are slender, and my suspicions slight; No evidence against him but the people's love, And that's no fault of his, unless deserving Be a crime. Who is without there?

_Enter_ LIBACER.

Go, call in Plangus, and bid him not stay, For I must speak with him.

[_Exit_ KING.

SCENE II.

LIB. Nay, then, all's dashed, if once he comes to parley. I must not have them talk. But here he is.

SCENE III.

_Enter_ PLANGUS.

LIB. All health and happiness attend the prince.

PLAN. Pray, tell me if you saw the king? Be short, for I am very melancholy.

LIB. He parted hence just now, but with such A fury revelling in his looks, there had been Less danger in a basilisk.

PLAN. Went he this way?

LIB. Yes, sir.

[_He is going out, but turns short._

PLAN. But dost not thou know what mov'd him?

LIB. I heard some such words as these: My rival in the kingdom----There's evidence against him---- The people's love----Deserving is a crime---- And somewhat else my fear made me forget.

PLAN. Who was there with him lately?

LIB. I cannot tell: but about a quarter of an hour ago He ask'd for you; and every time he nam'd you He seem'd angry.

PLAN. Named me! thou art mistaken.

LIB. I had almost forgot, sir, I have a message to you from Andromana.

PLAN. I will not hear one syllable.

LIB. No!--so she told me; but charged me to speak it, Or die; for it concerned your life, which she Held dearer than her own.

PLAN. I value it not; but speak the mystery.

LIB. When first her lips began to move, a blush O'erflow'd her face, as if her heart had sent Her tainted blood to seek a passage out. Then with A show'r of tears she told me how inordinate Desires had made her but this morning tempt you To th' acting of a sin she would not name; And that your virtue had so wrought upon her, She had not left one thing unchang'd. She loves you still, but with affection That carries honour and converted thoughts. And next, she bad me whisper in your ear (For time was short) that, if you lov'd her or yourself, Or intended to cherish the people's growing hopes, You should not come when the king sent for you, For something had incensed him so highly Against you, that there was mighty danger in it. She bad me haste, for time would not permit her To say more. I was scarce out o' th' chamber, When your father came and ask'd for you, and bad Me seek you out with speed. Sir, I should be Most proud to serve you.

PLAN. I thank thee, friend; But prythee, tell thy mistress Innocence knows no fear: 'tis for guilty souls To doubt their safety. If she would have me safe, My only way is by present appearance to clear Myself; for I believe my false accusers Wish nothing more than that I should be absent.

LIB. The devil's in him, sure, he guesseth so right.

[_Aside._

She told me so, sir, and would have wish'd you to it; But that there was a way to serve you better by. She say'th Ephorbas told her, a few minutes hence He'd call a council, where they'd consult about you. The place is hang'd so, that behind the wall, sir, You may stand secure, and hear what passeth; And according to what they determine, you may Provide for your safety; only for more security She wisheth you would arm yourself. Sir, pray resolve: She'll pacify the king, that you appear Not presently.

PLAN. Well I will be persuaded: Tell her, I am resolv'd I will not come.

LIB. Happiness attend you! Half an hour hence I'll wait Upon you.

[_Exit_ LIBACER.

PLAN. We shall reward thee.

SCENE IV.

PLAN. Whence should this kindness come? and on a sudden too? A strange alteration! She who a day ago Forgot the vows her soul was fetter'd in, And but this morning tempted me to a sin I can scarce think on without fear, should on An instant be careful for my safety, and That from a principle of virtue too!

SCENE V.

_Enter_ INOPHILUS.

INO. Who was that with you, sir, just now?

PLAN. An honest fellow certainly, but one I know not.

INO. An honest fellow call you him? If he have not rogue writ in great letters in's face, I have no physnomy.[97] Pray, sir, what was His business to you?

PLAN. A message from Andromana Who, out of love, desires me not to go to My father, because something hath put him in A fume against me.

INO. Did the king send for you?

PLAN. He did so.

INO. But upon her entreaty you forbore to go?

PLAN. What then?

INO. Then you are mad, sir. And tacitly conspire to your own ruin. Do, take an enemy's advice, and die, the object Both of their joy and scorn. Where are Your senses, sir, or pray, whence springs This friendship of Andromana's? Alas! you should not Measure her malice by the smallness of your own. She has injur'd you, she knows it, sir; and though At present she enjoys her treachery, she may Soon fall beside it; Ephorbas is not immortal, Nor can she promise to herself security, When you have power to call her ills in question. Were't nothing else, her safety would make her To plot your death. I hinder you in talking; But pray begone, and when you see your father, Speak boldly to him, or you're gone for ever.

PLAN. I tell thee once again, Inophilus, Since I have said I would not go Both heaven and thee shall want a motive To make me stir one foot. Were danger just Before me, running with open jaws upon me; And had my word been giv'n to remain here, I would be forc'd from life before my place.

INO. Here is a bravery now would make a man Forswear all gallantry! to fool away Your life thus in a humour!-- I met the court just now, sir: as full of whispers, Every man's eyes spoke strong amazement. My father's sent for, with two other lords, Eubulus and Anamedes; and the Court-gates are lock'd. Resolve, sir, and command me something, Wherein I may have an occasion to serve you.

PLAN. Then I resolve to do as I am caution'd. Walk in; I'll tell thee more.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE VI.

_Enter_ EPHORBAS _and_ LIBACER.

EPH. What was his answer, then?

LIB. "Tell him, I am resolv'd I will not come," Those were the very words, sir.

EPH. 'Twas very pretty [And] resolute, methinks. If he be grown So stubborn already, the next we must expect Is action.

LIB. But yet he bids me, if you Ask'd why he came not, to find some excuse or other.

EPH. He could find none himself then? Call in The lords: we must be sudden in our execution. But prythee, one thing more: who was there with him?

LIB. Nobody; But I met going to him young Inophilus; And heard one servant tell another in great haste, Their lord would speak with some o' the captains o' the army.

[_Exit._

SCENE VII.

_Enter_ RINATUS, EUBULUS, _and_ ANAMEDES.

EPH. Sit down, my lords, we have business with you Requires your hands and hearts, both speed and counsel. Our danger's such, that I could wish't had flown Upon us without warning, for so cross the fates are, Our safety must be bought at such a price, That we must lose what is as dear to us Almost as it. 'Tis Plangus' death or mine Must secure the other's life. Nay, startle not: If I am grown as wearisome to you as To him, your calling is in vain, my lords; Nor shall I labour longer to preserve A life denied me by the gods and you. But if there's any here who hath a son Brought to these years with so much care and love As mine hath been, think what a grief it is To lose him, and shed one tear with me. But for that son to plume himself with feathers Pluck'd from his father's wings, would melt one's eyeballs. Yet Plangus, who hath vizarded his ends with virtue, Finding it useless now, hath thrown it from him, And openly attempts my crown and life. When mischief's wheel once runs, how fast it speeds Headlong to put in act the blackest deeds! Were my crown his, had he my life to give, Though he would let me, I would scorn to live.

EUB. Sir, we are called upon a great affair, and if it Be true, the speed of our resolves Shall be as great as it. Your majesty hath reign'd so happily and long, We will not think a time beyond it. And such, so great your virtue still hath been, Strangers have been enamour'd, and admir'd it. Our enemies, that could have wish'd it less, Yet have sat down with envy, nor attempted Aught against you, knowing (I am confident) By such unjust attempts the gods would be Their foes. Methinks 'tis therefore much less likely That Plangus, who hath hitherto been found A miracle of filial piety, and one That we may say was born the heir to all Your virtues, all your goodness, as well as The kingdom; who counts it glory as much To be an honest man as a great prince: I say, for him who, as he is your son, And as we hitherto have found him full Of worth and honour, we cannot but behold As him in whom the spreading hopes of all Iberia grow, and promise to themselves A still green happiness, that ne'er shall know, What autumn or a naked winter means. For him that hath scarce yet put off Those clothes, which still wear the badges Of the great danger he was in, not for Himself, my liege, but you and us; for had He wish'd the ruin of his father and his country, The Argives would have done that for him, And he not have been call'd in question. But when we must remember with what wings He flew to meet the torrent, both against The counsel of his friends and his own hopes; How love to you and us spurr'd him on forward To those impossibilities, which nothing But love and valour durst have attempted, Why then, methinks, 'tis strange, yea, very strange, Thus in a moment t' have flung all nature off And all religion; and that, sir, against you, Whom we all well know and think with fear (But our fading hopes spring fresh from Plangus), Must shortly pay your tribute to the grave. Nor that we doubt your majesty hath cause To apprehend a danger; only 'tis wish'd, Those who inform'd you were examin'd strictly, And Plangus sent for to answer for himself. Slanders, like mists, still vanish at the sight Of innocents, who bring their lies to light.

EPH. If an oration could have made him clear, No doubt my fears are vain, and we shall lie Still sleeping in security as great And lasting as Plangus and his accomplices Can wish upon us, nor wake till we are bound In the securest chains, death's fetters. That I am old is true, and Plangus knows it. He would have catch'd a cannon-bullet sooner Else 'tween his naked hands, than have provok'd My fury: but [old] age hath froze[n] me To an icy numbness: yet shall he know My veins have fire as well as his, and when Incens'd, my eyes shoot as much poison too. What you allege about his battle 'gainst the Argives As an excuse, it is a proof against him. Though thieves rob others, yet they fight themselves For those that rob, when strangers set on them, And all unite against a common enemy. Had Plangus' private interest not held Him to us, no doubt he'd [have] left us naked Of all defence; but an intestine fury, To see the Argives bear away the fruits Of all his labours, all his treasons, Shot him into despair, and made him play A game was almost lost, rather than give all o'er. Besides, that action hath endear'd him to the people; Gain'd him the soldiers' hearts with so great ease, The danger's nothing in respect o' th' rise He takes from hence to climb up to his ends. And for the virtue that hath gull'd us all, I'd blush to speak it, that a son of mine Should ever be so base to seek a cloak For what he doth, but that I have disclaim'd All my relations to him, and would adopt A cannibal sooner for a son than he. The evidence we have is what we wish were less, Then might I hug my Plangus, and he me; But since the Fates and his own ills deny That intercourse, what can remain, But that we should proceed to sentence Speedy as themselves, and stop the ill, which may Strike when 'tis night, or while 'tis call'd to-day? He knows his guilt too well, and hath denied To come, that so he might be justified: Once disobey'd as father, the next thing Will be rebellion to me as his king.

SCENE VIII.

_Enter_ LIBACER.

RIN. As sure as death, this is one of the rogues That hath his roguery to act, and comes in like Something that hath brought news in th' latter end Of a play. Now shall we have some strange discovery-- How the rogue stares!

LIB. No sooner had we shut the gates, my liege, Than an uncertain rumour spread among the people That Plangus was in danger. When, if you ever saw a hive of bees: How, if you stir but one, the whole swarm moves, And testify their anger; so straight whole crowds Of people, the greatest half not knowing what They came for, swarm'd to the gates, and with confus'd Cries hinder'd themselves from being understood; Till some having divers times cried _Plangus_: [And] some _their prince_: all with one note, made up A common voice, and so continued, till some Captains, with one or two selected troops, made up To them, and having promised them they would Secure the prince, desir'd them to withdraw. And when they came so nigh as to be heard, They did in earnest what the other had Attempted with such[98] noise, and fail'd in; For they told the porter, in plain soldier's language, They would either see Plangus safe, or force The gates upon him. He, in this exigence, Hath sent to know your pleasure.

EPH. How say you now, my lords? where is The innocence, the love to you and us? For my part, I will meet the danger; Tame expectation is beneath a king. Only let me entreat you to see my queen safe. 'Tis pity she should smart who hath no sin To answer for but calling me her husband. Plangus, Iberia shall be thine; but with curses O' th' angry gods, and a kind injur'd dying father.

[_He goes to stab himself_, RINATUS _stays him_.

RIN. Heav'n bless you, sir, what a despair is this? Because you hate a hangman, you will be Your executioner yourself. Believe me, That which presents so great danger to you, I look upon with joy. There is no subject That loves you or the prince, but must be glad To see the zeal Iberians bear to a true virtue, When bending under an unjust oppression; No doubt their love had been as great to you, Had you been in like danger. Besides, my lord, You are not sure 'tis with the prince's consent, The soldiers do this. My life for yours, you will Be safe, let the worst come. Let us Go meet your fears.

[_They begin to rise, when at the instant_ ANDROMANA _enters
undressed, and in a fright_.

AND. Happy am I, my lord,

[_She weeps._

This sudden flight[99] hath rescu'd me from being Made the subject of some villain's lust, who With his sword drawn just now was forcing me To lewd embraces; if you command to search the court, He cannot be far hence, for he ran that way.

RIN. O impudence! That durst attempt a sin darkness and woods Have too many eyes for in the open court.

[PLANGUS _stirs behind the hangings_.

I shall be with you. The devil hath Armour on!

[RINATUS _draws, and runs at him_.

EPH. Drag him to torture----

[_They fetch him out._

My son! why have I liv'd to see this? Away with him to death; the air will grow infectious. Why stay you?

SCENE IX.

_Enter_ ZOPIRO _and_ INOPHILUS, _with Soldiers_.

INO. Unhand the prince, or else by heav'n he treads Into his grave that moves a foot to touch him. Madam, though Plangus' noble self was blind, And could not see the deep black darkness of Your hellish actions, his friends had eyes about them. Was this your love? this your repentance? This your advice, your counsel? Had I, I must confess,[100] And these his noble friends, been[101] rul'd by him, ere this He'd been a sacrifice to your revenge and you. Why stand you mute, sir? Want you a tongue to justify Your innocence our swords and we maintain? And now, my liege, we turn to you, whom we Have serv'd as truly as e'er subjects did Any prince alive; and whilst you're worthy, we Will do so still; but we'll be no man's slaves Alive, much less be his that is another's, While this base witch (for so she is) constrains You to do actions children would blush at, And wise men laugh at, which will after leave you Both to repentance and despair. This beggar, whom T'other day you took up as some lost thing, Gave your honour to, and in that our safety; That knew less to be good than devils do, And hath ills lodged in her that would make hell Beyond that the furies dwell in, Banish her hence, send her to some place Where murders, rapines, or sins yet Unheard of do inhabit, and where she can Do us no mischief. Do you betake yourself To your former virtue, and restore the prince To those affections you once had for him. We then perhaps may live to see Iberia happy.

EPH. Why am I forc'd thus to declare his shame, Which at the bound strikes me, and's made my own? You know not how well Plangus can dissemble: He is an hypocrite, I need not tell you more, Those three syllables comprehend all ill. My queen just now 'scaped from his base attempt, Wherein he would have forc'd her to have damn'd Herself and him, and dishonoured me. What meant that armour on, and why so guarded? Where was a danger threat'ned him? or doth he Think his conscience could not sting him through it? I wish, my lords,[102] he might live. But, as nature That, as he is my son, bids me preserve him; So honour, which pleads to the king stronger Than nature can, tells me, for that very reason, I can less pardon him than something born A stranger to my blood. But I deserve To die, as well as he. If he be grown A burden to the earth, I am so too, That gave the monster being. Wherefore Let me be drawn to execution too, For fathers are guilty of their children's ills.

INO. Would Plangus then have forc'd Andromana? Yes, so would Daphne have ravish'd Phoebus! I'll undertake goats are less salt than she. But for his armour:--can any man that breathes One common air with her not need an armour? Brass walls can't be security enough. Why speak you not, sir? are you dumb too?

PLAN. 'Tis for them to speak are sure to be believ'd, And not for him that is condemn'd as guilty. Words can excuse slight faults. If mine are esteem'd such, that all my actions, A speaking duty of one-and-twenty years, Speak not enough to clear me, silence shall. I've no more to say, therefore, but To bid you do your duty to the king, And ask him pardon for this[103] intemperate zeal: Heav'n knows I wish'd it not, nor would I buy My safety at one of my father's angry thoughts, Much less his fears, for those I fall by. Obey my father, and if ye love me, gentlemen, Shed not one tear for Plangus. For I am timely taken from those plagues This woman's crying sins must bring upon Iberia, and make you wish that you Had died as soon and innocent as I.

AND. That I was nothing, I confess; that what I am, I owe to Ephorbas; nay, that the greatness I am now in tells me it is too high To be secure, my fears bear witness. I wish my life would excuse Plangus his; at least My blood wash off the blackness of his guilt, Heav'n knows it should not be one minute, ere He should be restor'd to his former virtues; But since it cannot be, I'll in and weep-- Not for myself, but him.

[_Exit._

INO. Millions of plagues go with thee. Sir [_To_ PLANGUS], you shall Along with us; we will not trust you Or to the king or her.

[_Exeunt._