Chapter VIII: Act I: Enter RAYNULPH.356

RAY. What Raynulph, monk of Chester, can
Raise from his Polychronicon,
That raiseth him, as works do men,
To see long-parted light agen,[357]
That best may please this round fair ring,
With sparkling diamonds circled in,
I shall produce. If all my powers
Can win the grace of two poor hours,
Well apaid[358] I go to rest.
Ancient stories have been best;
Fashions, that are now call’d new,
Have been worn by more than you;
Elder times have us’d the same,
Though these new ones get the name:
So in story what now told
That takes not part with days of old?
Then to approve time’s mutual glory,
Join new time’s love to old time’s story. [_Exit._

SCENE I.

_Before a Monastery._[359]

_Shouts within; then enter_ VORTIGER, _carrying the
crown_.

VORT. Will that wide-throated beast, the multitude,
Never leave bellowing? Courtiers are ill
Advisèd when they first make such monsters.
How near was I to a sceptre and a crown!
Fair power was even upon me; my desires
Were casting glory, till this forkèd rabble,
With their infectious acclamations,
Poison’d my fortunes for Constantine’s sons.
Well, though I rise not king, I’ll seek the means
To grow as near to one as policy can,
And choke their expectations.

_Enter_ DEVONSHIRE _and_ STAFFORD.

Now, good lords,
In whose kind loves and wishes I am built
As high as human dignity can aspire,
Are yet those trunks, that have no other souls
But noise and ignorance, something more quiet?
DEVON. Nor are they like to be, for aught we gather:
Their wills are up still; nothing can appease them;
Good speeches are but cast away upon them.
VORT. Then, since necessity and fate withstand me,
I’ll strive to enter at a straiter passage.
Your sudden aid and counsels, good my lords.
STAFF. They’re[360] ours no longer than they do you
service.

_Enter_ CONSTANTIUS _in the habit of a monk,
attended by_ GERMANUS _and_ LUPUS: _as they are
going into the monastery_, VORTIGER _stays them_.

VORT. Vessels of sanctity, be pleas’d a while
To give attention to the general peace,
Wherein heaven is serv’d too, though not so purely.
Constantius, eldest son of Constantine,
We here seize on thee for the general good,
And in thy right of birth.
CONST. On me! for what, lords?
VORT. The kingdom’s government.
CONST. O powers of blessedness,
Keep me from growing downwards into earth again!
I hope I’m[361] further on my way than so.—
Set forwards!
VORT. You must not.
CONST. How!
VORT. I know your wisdom
Will light upon a way to pardon us,
When you shall read in every Briton’s brow
The urg’d necessity of the times.
CONST. What necessity can there be in the world,
But prayer and repentance? and that business
I am about now.
VORT. Hark, afar off still!
We lose and hazard much.—Holy Germanus
And reverend Lupus, with all expedition
Set the crown on him.
CONST. No such mark of fortune
Comes near my head.
VORT. My lord, we’re[362] forc’d to rule you.
CONST. Dare you receive heaven’s light in at your
eyelids,
And offer violence to religion?
Take heed;
The very beam let in to comfort you
May be the fire to burn you. On these knees,
[_Kneeling._
Harden’d with zealous prayers, I entreat you
Bring not my cares into the world again!
Think with how much unwillingness and anguish
A glorified soul parted from the body
Would to that loathsome jail again return:
With such great pain a well-subdu’d affection
Re-enters worldly business.
VORT. Good my lord,
I know you cannot lodge so many virtues,
But patience must be one. As low as earth
[_Kneeling with_ DEVONSHIRE _and_ STAFFORD.
We beg the freeness of your own consent,
Which else must be constrain’d; and time it were
Either agreed or forc’d. Speak, good my lord,
For you bind up more sins in this delay
Than thousand prayers can absolve again.
CONST. Were’t but my death, you should not kneel so
long for’t.
VORT. ’Twill be the death of millions if you rise not,
And that betimes too.—Lend your help, my lords,
For fear all come too late.
[_They rise and raise_ CONSTANTIUS.
CONST. This is a cruelty
That peaceful man did never suffer yet,
To make me die again, that once was dead,
And begin all that ended long before.
Hold, Lupus and Germanus: you are lights
Of holiness and religion; can you offer
The thing that is not lawful? stand not I
Clear from all temporal charge by my profession?
GER. Not when a time so violent calls upon you.
Who’s[363] born a prince, is born a general peace,[364]
Not his own only: heaven will look for him
In others’ acts,[365] and will requite[366] him there.
What is in you religious, must be shewn
In saving many more souls than your own.
CONST. Did not great Constantine, our noble father,
Deem me unfit for government and rule,
And therefore preas’d[367] me into this profession?
Which I’ve[368] held strict, and love it above glory.
Nor is there want of me: yourselves can witness,
Heaven hath provided largely for your peace,
And bless’d you with the lives of my two brothers:
Fix your obedience there, leave me a servant.
[_They put the crown on the head of_ CONSTANTIUS.
ALL. Long live Constantius, son of Constantine,
King of Great Britain!
CONST. I do feel a want
And extreme poverty of joy within;
The peace I had is parted ’mongst rude men;
To keep them quiet, I have lost it all.
What can the kingdom gain by my undoing?
That riches is not best, though it be mighty,
That’s purchas’d by the ruin of another;
Nor can the peace, so filch’d, e’er[369] thrive with
them:
And if’t be worthily held sacrilege
To rob a temple, ’tis no less offence
To ravish meditations from the soul,
The consecrated altar in a man:
And all their hopes will be beguil’d in me;
I know no more the way to temporal rule,
Than he that’s born and has his years come to him
In a rough desert. Well may the weight kill me;
And that’s the fairest good I look for from it.
VORT. Not so, great king: here stoops a faithful
servant
Would sooner perish under it with cheerfulness,
Than your meek soul should feel oppression
Of ruder cares: such common coarse employments
Cast upon me your servant, upon Vortiger.
I see you are not made for noise and pains,
Clamours of suitors, injuries, and redresses,
Millions of actions, rising with the sun,
Like laws still ending, and yet never done,
Of power to turn a great man to the state
Of his marble monument with over-watching.
To be oppress’d is not requir’d of you, my lord,
But only to be king. The broken sleeps
Let me take from you, sir; the toils and troubles,
All that is burthenous in authority,
Please you lay it on me, and what is glorious
Receive’t[370] to your own brightness.
CONST. Worthy Vortiger,
If ’twere not sin to grieve another’s patience
With what we cannot tolerate ourself,
How happy were I in thee and thy love!
There’s nothing makes man feel his miseries
But knowledge only: reason, that is plac’d
For man’s director, is his chief afflictor;
For though I cannot bear the weight myself,
I cannot have that barrenness of remorse,[371]
To see another groan under my burthen.
VORT. I’m[372] quite blown up a conscionable way:
There’s even a trick of murdering in some pity.
The death of all my hopes I see already:
There was no other likelihood, for religion
Was never friend of mine yet. [_Aside._
CONST. Holy partners in strictest abstinence,
Cruel necessity hath forc’d me from you:
We part, I fear, for ever; but in mind
I will be always here; here let me stay.
DEVON. My lord, you know the times.
CONST. Farewell, blest souls; I fear I shall offend:
He that draws tears from you takes your best friend.
[_Exeunt_ CONSTANTIUS, DEVONSHIRE, _and_ STAFFORD;
_while_ LUPUS _and_ GERMANUS _enter the
monastery_.
VORT. Can the great motion of ambition stand,
Like wheels false wrought by an unskilful hand?
Then, Time, stand thou too: let no hopes arrive
At their sweet wishfulness, till mine set forwards.
Would I could stay thy[373] existence, as I can
Thy glassy counterfeit in hours of sand!
I’d keep thee turn’d down, till my wishes rose;
Then we’d[374] both rise together.
What several inclinations are in nature!
How much is he disquieted, and wears royalty
Disdainfully upon him, like a curse!
Calls a fair crown the weight of his afflictions!
When here’s a soul would sink under the burthen,
Yet well recover’t.[375] I will use all means
To vex authority from him, and in all
Study what most may discontent his blood,
Making my mask my zeal to the public good:
Not possible a richer policy
Can have conception in the thought of man.

_Enter two_ GRAZIERS.

FIRST GRAZ. An honourable life enclose your lordship!
VORT. Now, what are you?
SECOND GRAZ. Graziers, if’t like[376] your lordship.
VORT. So it should seem by your enclosures.
What’s your affair with me?
FIRST GRAZ. We are your
Petitioners, my lord.
VORT. For what? depart:
Petitioners to me! you’ve[377] well deserv’d
My grace and favour. Have you not a ruler
After your own election? hie you to court;
Get near and close, be loud and bold enough,
You cannot choose but speed. [_Exit._
SECOND GRAZ. If that will do’t,
We have throats wide enough; we’ll put them to’t.
[_Exeunt._

DUMB SHOW.

FORTUNE _discovered, in her hand a round ball full of
lots; then enter_[378] HENGIST and HORSUS, _with
others: they draw lots, and having opened them, all
depart save_ HENGIST _and_ HORSUS, _who kneel and
embrace: then enter_ ROXENA, _seeming to take leave
of_ HENGIST _in great passion,[379] but more
especially and warily of_ HORSUS, _her lover: she
departs one way_, HENGIST _and_ HORSUS _another_.

_Enter_ RAYNULPH.

RAY. When Germany was overgrown
With sons of peace too thickly sown,
Several guides were chosen then
By destin’d lots, to lead out men;
And they whom Fortune here withstands
Must prove their fates in other lands.
On these two captains fell the lot;
But that which must not be forgot,
Was Roxena’s cunning grief;
Who from her father, like a thief,
Hid her best and truest tears,
Which her lustful lover wears
In many a stoln and wary kiss,
Unseen of father. Maids do this,
Yet highly scorn to be call’d strumpets too:
But what they lack of’t, I’ll be judg’d by you.
[_Exit._

SCENE II.

_A Hall in the Palace._

_Enter_ VORTIGER, FELT-MONGER, BUTTON-MAKER, GRAZIERS,
_and other petitioners_.

VORT. This way his majesty comes.
ALL. Thank your good lordship.
VORT. When you hear yon door open—
ALL. Very good, my lord.
VORT. Be ready with your several suits; put forward.
GRAZ. That’s a thing every man does naturally, sir,
That is a suitor, and doth mean to speed.
VORT. ’Tis well you’re[380] so deep learn’d. Take no
denials.
ALL. No, my good lord.
VORT. Not any, if you love
The prosperity of your suits: you mar all utterly,
And overthrow your fruitful hopes for ever,
If either fifth or sixth, nay, tenth repulse
Fasten upon your bashfulness.
ALL. Say you so, my lord?
We can be troublesome if we list.
VORT. I know it:
I felt it but too late in the general sum
Of your rank brotherhood, which now I thank you for.—
While this vexation is in play, I’ll study
For a second; then a third to that; one still
To vex another, that he shall be glad
To yield up power; if not, it shall be had.
[_Aside, and exit._
BUTT. Hark! I protest, my heart was coming upwards:
I thought the door had open’d.
GRAZ. Marry, would it had, sir!
BUTT. I have such a treacherous heart of my own, ’twill
throb at the very fall of a farthingale.
GRAZ. Not if it fall on the rushes.[381]
BUTT. Yes, truly; if there be no light in the room, I
shall throb presently. The first time it took me, my
wife was in the company: I remember the room was not
half so light as this; but I’ll be sworn I was a whole
hour in finding her.
GRAZ. Byrlady,[382] y’had a long time of throbbing of it
then.
BUTT. Still I felt men, but I could feel no women; I
thought they had been all sunk. I have made a vow for’t,
I’ll never have meeting, while I live, by candle-light
again.
GRAZ. Yes, sir, in lanterns.
BUTT. Yes, sir, in lanterns; but I’ll never trust candle
naked again.
GRAZ. Hark, hark! stand close: it opens now indeed!
BUTT. O majesty, what art thou! I’d give any man half my
suit to deliver my petition: it is in the behalf of
button-makers, and so it seems by my flesh.[383]

_Enter_ CONSTANTIUS _in regal attire, and two_
GENTLEMEN.

CONST. Pray do not follow me, unless you do it
To wonder at my garments; there’s no cause
I give you why you should: ’tis shame enough,
Methinks, to look upon myself;
It grieves me that more should. The other weeds
Became me better, but the lords are pleas’d
To force me to wear these; I would not else:
I pray be satisfied; I call’d you not.
Wonder of madness! can you stand so idle,
And know that you must die?
FIRST GENT. We’re[384] all commanded, sir;
Besides, it is our duties to your grace,
To give attendance.
CONST. What a wild thing is this!
No marvel though you tremble at death’s name,
When you’ll not see the cause why you are fools.
For charity’s sake, desist here, I pray you!
Make not my presence guilty of your sloth:
Withdraw, young men, and find you honest business.
SECOND GENT. What hopes have we to rise by following
him?
I’ll give him over shortly.
FIRST GENT. He’s too nice,[385]
Too holy for young gentlemen to follow
That have good faces and sweet running fortunes.
[_Exeunt_ GENTLEMEN.
CONST. Eight hours a-day in serious contemplation
Is but a bare allowance; no higher food
To the soul than bread and water to the body;
And that’s but needful; then more would do better.
BUTT. Let us all kneel together; ’twill move pity:
I’ve[386] been at the begging of a hundred suits.
[_All the petitioners kneel._
CONST. How happy am I in the sight of you!
Here are religious souls, that lose not time:
With what devotion do they point at heaven,
And seem to check me that am too remiss!
I bring my zeal among you, holy men:
If I see any kneel, and I sit out, [_Kneels._
That hour is not well spent. Methinks, strict souls,
You have been of some order in your times.
GRAZ. Graziers and braziers some, and this a felt-maker.
BUTT. Here’s his petition and mine, if it like[387] your
grace. [_Giving petitions._
GRAZ. Look upon mine, I am the longest suitor; I was
undone seven years ago.
CONST. [_rising with the others_] You’ve[388] mock’d
My good hopes. Call you these petitions?
Why, there’s no form of prayer among them all.
BUTT. Yes, in the bottom there is[389] half a line
Prays for your majesty, if you look on mine.
CONST. Make your requests to heaven, not to me.
BUTT. ’Las! mine’s a supplication for brass buttons,
sir.
FELT. There’s a great enormity in wool; I beseech your
grace consider it.
GRAZ. Pastures rise two-pence an acre; what will this
world come to!
BUTT. I do beseech your grace——
GRAZ. Good your grace——
CONST. O, this is one of my afflictions
That with the crown enclos’d me! I must bear it.
GRAZ. Your grace’s answer to my supplication.
BUTT. Mine, my lord.
CONST. No violent storm lasts ever;
That is the comfort of’t.[390]
FELT. Your highness’s answer.
GRAZ. We are almost all undone, the country beggar’d.
BUTT. See, see, he points at heaven, as who should say
There’s enough there: but ’tis a great way thither.
There’s no good to be done, I see that already; we may
all spend our mouths like a company of hounds in chase
of a royal deer, and then go home and fall to cold
mutton-bones, when we have done.
GRAZ. My wife will hang me, that’s my currish destiny.
[_Exeunt all except_ CONSTANTIUS.
CONST. Thanks, heaven! ’tis o’er now: we should
ne’er[391] know rightly
The sweetness of a calm, but for a storm.
Here’s a wish’d hour for contemplation now;
All’s still and silent; here is a true kingdom.

_Re-enter_ VORTIGER.

VORT. My lord.
CONST. Again?
VORT. Alas, this is but early
And gentle to the troops of businesses
That flock about authority! you must forthwith
Settle your mind to marry.
CONST. How! to marry?
VORT. And suddenly, there’s no pause to be given;
The people’s wills are violent, and covetous
Of a succession from your loins.
CONST. From me
There can come none: a profess’d abstinence
Hath set a virgin seal upon my blood,
And alter’d all the course; the heat I have
Is all enclos’d within a zeal to virtue,
And that’s not fit for earthly propagation.
Alas, I shall but forfeit all their hopes!
I’m a man made without desires, tell them.
VORT. I prov’d them with such words, but all were
fruitless.
A virgin of the highest subject’s blood
They have pick’d out for your embrace, and send her,
Bless’d with their general wishes, into fruitfulness.
Lo! where she comes, my lord.

_Enter_ CASTIZA.

CONST. I never felt
Th’ unhappy hand of misery till this touch:
A patience I could find for all but this.
CAST. My lord, your vow’d love ventures me but
dangerously.
VORT. ’Tis but to strengthen a vexation politic.
CAST.[392] That’s an uncharitable practice, trust me,
sir,
VORT. No more of that.
CAST. But say he should affect me, sir,
How should I ’scape him then? I have but one
Faith, my lord, and that you have already;
Our late contràct is a divine witness to’t.
VORT. I am not void of shifting-rooms and helps
For all projècts that I commit with you. [_Exit._
CAST. This is an ungodly way to come to honour;
I do not like it: I love lord Vortiger,
But not these practices; they’re too uncharitable.
[_Aside._
CONST. Are you a virgin?
CAST. Never yet, my lord,
Known to the will of man.
CONST. O blessèd creature!
And does too much felicity make you surfeit?
Are you in soul assur’d there is a state
Prepar’d for you, for you, a glorious one,
In midst of heaven, now in the state you stand in,
And had you rather, after much known misery,
Cares and hard labours, mingled with a curse,
Throng but to the door, and hardly get a place there?
Think, hath the world a folly like this madness?
Keep still that holy and immaculate fire,
You chaste lamp[393] of eternity! ’tis a treasure
Too precious for death’s moment to partake,
This twinkling of short life. Disdain as much
To let mortality know you, as stars
To kiss the pavements; you’ve a substance as
Excellent as theirs, holding your pureness:
They look upon corruption, as you do,
But are stars still; be you a virgin too.
CAST. I’ll never marry. What though my truth be
engag’d
To Vortiger? forsaking all the world
I save it well, and do my faith no wrong. [_Aside._
You’ve mightily prevail’d, great virtuous sir;
I’m[394] bound eternally to praise your goodness:
My thoughts henceforth shall be as pure from man,
As ever made a virgin’s name immortal.
CONST. I will do that for joy, I never did,
Nor ever will again.

_As he kisses her, re-enter_ VORTIGER _and_ GENTLEMEN.

FIRST GENT. My lord, he’s taken.
VORT. I’m[395] sorry for’t, I like not that so well;
They’re something too familiar for their time, methinks.
This way of kissing is no way to vex him:
Why I, that have a weaker faith and patience,
Could endure more than that, coming from a woman.
Despatch, and bring his answer speedily. [_Exit._
FIRST GENT. My lord, my gracious lord!
CONST. Beshrew thy heart!
SECOND GENT. They all attend your grace.
CONST. I would not have them:
’Twould please me better, if they’d[396] all depart,
And leave me to myself; or put me out,
And take it to themselves.
FIRST GENT. The noon is past;
Meat’s on the table.
CONST. Meat! away, get from me;
Thy memory is diseas’d; what saint’s eve’s this?
FIRST GENT. Saint Agatha’s, I take it.
CONST. Is it so?
I am not worthy to be serv’d before her;
And so return, I pray.
SECOND GENT. He’ll starve the guard, if this be
suffered: if we set court bellies by a monastery clock,
he that breaks a fellow’s pate now, will not be able to
crack a louse within this twelvemonth.
[_Aside, and exeunt_ GENTLEMEN.
CONST. ’Tis sure forgetfulness, and not man’s will,
That leads him forth into licentious ways;
He cannot certainly commit such errors,
And think upon them truly as they’re[397] acting.
Why’s abstinence ordain’d, but for such seasons?

_Re-enter_ VORTIGER.

VORT. My lord, you’ve pleas’d to put us to much pains,
But we confess ’tis portion of our duty.
Will your grace please to walk? dinner stays for you.
CONST. I’ve[398] answer’d that already.
VORT. But, my lord,
We must not so yield to you: pardon me,
’Tis for the general good; you must be rul’d, sir;
Your health and life are[399] dearer to us now:
Think where you are, at court; this is no monastery.
CONST. But, sir, my conscience keeps still where it
was:
I may not eat this day.
VORT. We’ve[400] sworn you shall,
And plentifully too: we must preserve you, sir,
Though you be wilful; ’tis no slight condition
To be a king.
CONST. Would I were less than man!
VORT. You will[401] make the people rise, my lord,
In great despair of your continuance,
If you neglect the means that must sustain you.
CONST. I never eat on eves.
VORT. But now you must;
It concerns others’ healths that you take food:
I’ve[402] chang’d your life, you well may change your
mood.
CONST. This is beyond all cruelty.
VORT. ’Tis our care, my lord. [_Exeunt._