Chapter XVI: Act V: Scene I

_A gallery in the castle._

_Enter_ BEATRICE: _a clock strikes one._

BEAT. One struck, and yet she lies by’t! O, my fears!
This strumpet serves her own ends, ’tis apparent now,
Devours the pleasure with a greedy appetite,
And never minds my honour or my peace,
Makes havoc of my right; but she pays dearly for’t;
No trusting of her life with such a secret,
That cannot rule her blood to keep her promise;
Beside, I've some suspicion of her faith to me,
Because I was suspected of my lord,
And it must come from her [_clock strikes two_]: hark!
by my horrors,
Another clock strikes two!

_Enter_ DE FLORES.

DE F. Pist![490] where are you?
BEAT. De Flores?
DE F. Ay: is she not come from him yet?
BEAT. As I'm a living soul, not!
DE F. Sure the devil
Hath sow’d his itch within her; who would trust
A waiting-woman?
BEAT. I must trust somebody.
DE F. Push![491] they’re termagants;
Especially when they fall upon their masters
And have their ladies' first-fruits; they’re mad whelps,
You cannot stave ’em off from game royal: then
You are so harsh[492] and hardy, ask no counsel;
And I could have help’d you to a ’pothecary’s daughter
Would have fall’n off before eleven, and thank['d] you
too.
BEAT. O me, not yet! this whore forgets herself.
DE F. The rascal fares so well: look, you’re undone;
The day-star, by this hand! see, Phosphorus plain
yonder.
BEAT. Advise me now to fall upon some ruin;
There is no counsel safe else.
DE F. Peace! I ha’t now,
For we must force a rising, there’s no remedy.
BEAT. How? take heed of that.
DE F. Tush! be you quiet, or else give over all.
BEAT. Prithee—I ha' done then.
DE F. This is my reach: I'll set
Some part a-fire of Diaphanta’s chamber.
BEAT. How? fire, sir? that may endanger the whole
house.
DE F. You talk of danger when your fame’s on fire?
BEAT. That’s true; do what thou wilt now.
DE F. Push! I aim
At a most rich success strikes all dead sure:
The chimney being a-fire, and some light parcels
Of the least danger in her chamber only,
If Diaphanta should be met by chance then
Far from her lodging, which is now suspicious,
It would be thought her fears and affrights then
Drove her to seek for succour; if not seen
Or met at all, as that’s the likeliest,
For her own shame she’ll hasten towards her lodging;
I will be ready with a piece high-charg’d,
As ’twere to cleanse the chimney, there ’tis proper now,
But she shall be the mark.
BEAT. I'm forc’d to love thee now,
'Cause thou provid’st so carefully for my honour.
DE F. ’Slid, it concerns the safety of us both,
Our pleasure and continuance.
BEAT. One word now, prithee;
How for the servants?
DE F. I will despatch them,
Some one way, some another in the hurry,
For buckets, hooks, ladders; fear not you,
The deed shall find its time; and I've thought since
Upon a safe conveyance for the body too:
How this fire purifies wit! watch you your minute.
BEAT. Fear keeps my soul upon’t, I cannot stray
from’t.

_Enter Ghost of_ ALONZO.

DE F. Ha! what art thou that tak’st away the light
Betwixt that star and me? I dread thee not:
’Twas but a mist of conscience; all’s clear again.
[_Exit._
BEAT. Who’s that, De Flores? bless me, it slides by!
[_Exit Ghost._
Some ill thing haunts the house; ’t has left behind it
A shivering sweat upon me; I'm afraid now:
This night hath been so tedious! O this strumpet!
Had she a thousand lives, he should not leave her
Till he had destroy’d the last. List! O my terrors!
[_Clock strikes three._
Three struck by St. Sebastian’s!
VOICES [_within_]. Fire, fire, fire!
BEAT. Already? how rare is that man’s speed!
How heartily he serves me! his face loathes one;
But look upon his care, who would not love him?
The east is not more beauteous than his service.
VOICES [_within_]. Fire, fire, fire!

_Re-enter_ DE FLORES: _Servants pass over the stage_.

DE F. Away, despatch! hooks, buckets, ladders! that’s
well said.
[_Bell rings within._
The fire-bell rings; the chimney works, my charge;
The piece is ready. [_Exit._
BEAT. Here’s a man worth loving!

_Enter_ DIAPHANTA.
O, you’re a jewel!
DIA. Pardon frailty, madam;
In troth, I was so well, I even forgot myself.
BEAT. You’ve made trim work!
DIA. What?
BEAT. Hie quickly to your chamber;
Your reward follows you.
DIA. I never made
So sweet a bargain. [_Exit._

_Enter_ ALSEMERO.

ALS. O, my dear Joanna,
Alas! art thou risen too? I was coming,
My absolute treasure!
BEAT. When I miss’d you,
I could not choose but follow.
ALS. Thou’rt all sweetness:
The fire is not so dangerous.
BEAT. Think you so, sir?
ALS. I prithee, tremble not; believe me, ’tis not.

_Enter_ VERMANDERO _and_ JASPERINO.

VER. O, bless my house and me!
ALS. My lord your father.

_Re-enter_ DE FLORES _with a gun_.

VER. Knave, whither goes that piece?
DE F. To scour the chimney.
VER. O, well said, well said! [_Exit_ DE FLORES.
That fellow’s good on all occasions.
BEAT. A wondrous necessary man, my lord.
VER. He hath a ready wit; he’s worth ’em all, sir;
Dog at a house of[493] fire; I ha' seen him sing’d ere
now.—
[_Gun fired off within._
Ha, there he goes!
BEAT. ’Tis done! [_Aside._
ALS. Come, sweet, to bed now;
Alas, thou wilt get cold!
BEAT. Alas, the fear keeps that out!
My heart will find no quiet till I hear
How Diaphanta, my poor woman, fares;
It is her chamber, sir, her lodging chamber.
VER. How should the fire come there?
BEAT. As good a soul as ever lady countenanc’d,
But in her chamber negligent and heavy:
She ’scap’d a mine twice.
VER. Twice?
BEAT. Strangely twice, sir.
VER. Those sleepy sluts are dangerous in a house,
And[494] they be ne’er so good.

_Re-enter_ DE FLORES.

DE F. O, poor virginity,
Thou hast paid dearly for’t!
VER. Bless us, what’s that?
DE F. A thing you all knew once, Diaphanta’s burnt.
BEAT. My woman! O, my woman!
DE F. Now the flames
Are greedy of her; burnt, burnt, burnt to death, sir!
BEAT. O my presaging soul!
ALS. Not a tear more!
I charge you by the last embrace I gave you
In bed, before this rais’d us.
BEAT. Now you tie me;
Were it my sister, now she gets no more.

_Enter Servant._

VER. How now?
SER. All danger’s past; you may now take
Your rests, my lords; the fire is throughly quench’d:
Ah, poor gentlewoman, how soon was she stifled!
BEAT. De Flores, what is left of her inter,
And we as mourners all will follow her:
I will entreat that honour to my servant
Even of my lord himself.
ALS. Command it, sweetness.
BEAT. Which of you spied the fire first?
DE F. ’Twas I, madam.
BEAT. And took such pains in’t too? a double goodness!
'Twere well he were rewarded.
VER. He shall be.—
De Flores, call upon me.
ALS. And upon me, sir.
[_Exeunt all except_ DE FLORES.
DE F. Rewarded? precious! here’s a trick beyond me:
I see in all bouts, both of sport and wit,
Always a woman strives for the last hit. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_Another apartment in the castle._

_Enter_ TOMASO.

TOM. I cannot taste the benefits of life
With the same relish I was wont to do:
Man I grow weary of, and hold his fellowship
A treacherous bloody friendship; and because
I'm ignorant in whom my wrath should settle,
I must think all men villains, and the next
I meet, whoe’er he be, the murderer
Of my most worthy brother. Ha! what’s he?

DE FLORES _passes over the stage_.

O, the fellow that some call honest De Flores;
But methinks honesty was hard bested
To come there for a lodging; as if a queen
Should make her palace of a pest-house:
I find a contrariety in nature
Betwixt that face and me; the least occasion
Would give me game upon him; yet he’s so foul
One would scarce touch [him] with a sword he lov’d
And made account of; so most deadly venomous,
He would go near to poison any weapon
That should draw blood on him; one must resolve
Never to use that sword again in fight
In way of honest manhood that strikes him;
Some river must devour it; ’twere not fit
That any man should find it. What, again?

_Re-enter_ DE FLORES.

He walks a' purpose by, sure, to choke me up,
T' infect my blood.
DE F. My worthy noble lord!
TOM. Dost offer to come near and breathe upon me?
[_Strikes him._
DE F. A blow! [_Draws._
TOM. Yea, are you so prepar’d?
I'll rather like a soldier die by th' sword,
Than like a politician by thy poison. [_Draws._
DE F. Hold, my lord, as you are honourable!
TOM. All slaves that kill by poison are still cowards.
DE F. I cannot strike; I see his brother’s wounds
Fresh bleeding in his eye, as in a crystal.— [_Aside._
I will not question this, I know you’re noble;
I take my injury with thanks given, sir,
Like a wise lawyer, and as a favour
Will wear it for the worthy hand that gave it.—Why
this from him that yesterday appear’d
So strangely loving to me?
O, but instinct is of a subtler strain!
Guilt must not walk so near his lodge again;
He came near me now. [_Aside, and exit._
TOM. All league with mankind I renounce for ever,
Till I find this murderer; not so much
As common courtesy but I'll lock up;
For in the state of ignorance I live in,
A brother may salute his brother’s murderer,
And wish good speed to th' villain in a greeting.

_Enter_ VERMANDERO, ALIBIUS, _and_ ISABELLA.

VER. Noble Piracquo!
TOM. Pray, keep on your way, sir;
I've nothing to say to you.
VER. Comforts bless you, sir!
TOM. I've forsworn compliment, in troth, I have, sir;
As you are merely man, I have not left
A good wish for you, nor [for] any here.
VER. Unless you be so far in love with grief,
You will not part from’t upon any terms,
We bring that news will make a welcome for us.
TOM. What news can that be?
VER. Throw no scornful smile
Upon the zeal I bring you,’tis worth more, sir;
Two of the chiefest men I kept about me
I hide not from the law or your just vengeance.
TOM. Ha!
VER. To give your peace more ample satisfaction,
Thank these discoverers.
TOM. If you bring that calm,
Name but the manner I shall ask forgiveness in
For that contemptuous smile [I threw][495] upon you,
I'll perfect it with reverence that belongs
Unto a sacred altar. [_Kneels._
VER. [_raising him_] Good sir, rise;
Why, now you overdo as much ’a this hand
As you fell short ’a t’other.—Speak, Alibius.
ALIB. ’Twas my wife’s fortune, as she is most lucky
At a discovery, to find out lately,
Within our hospital of fools and madmen,
Two counterfeits slipp’d into these disguises,
Their names Franciscus and Antonio.
VER. Both mine, sir, and I ask no favour for ’em.
ALIB. Now that which draws suspicion to their habits,
The time of their disguisings agrees justly
With the day of the murder.
TOM. O blest revelation!
VER. Nay, more, nay, more, sir—I'll not spare mine own
In way of justice—they both feign’d a journey
To Briamata,[496] and so wrought out their leaves;
My love was so abus’d in’t.
TOM. Time’s too precious
To run in waste now; you have brought a peace
The riches of five kingdoms could not purchase:
Be my most happy conduct; I thirst for ’em:
Like subtle lightning will I wind about ’em,
And melt their marrow in ’em. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

ALSEMERO’S _apartment[497] in the castle_.

_Enter_ ALSEMERO _and_ JASPERINO.

JAS. Your confidence, I'm sure, is now of proof;
The prospect from the garden has shew’d[498]
Enough for deep suspicion.
ALS. The black mask
That so continually was worn upon’t
Condemns the face for ugly ere’t be seen,
Her despite to him, and so seeming bottomless.
JAS. Touch it home then; ’tis not a shallow probe
Can search this ulcer soundly; I fear you’ll find it
Full of corruption: ’tis fit I leave you,
She meets you opportunely from that walk;
She took the back door at his parting with her.
[_Exit._

ALS. Did my fate wait for this unhappy stroke
At my first sight of woman? She is here.

_Enter_ BEATRICE.

BEAT. Alsemero!
ALS. How do you?
BEAT. How do I?
Alas, how do you, [sir]? you look not well.
ALS. You read me well enough, I am not well.
BEAT. Not well, sir? is’t in my power to better you?
ALS. Yes.
BEAT. Nay, then you’re cur’d again.
ALS. Pray, resolve me one question, lady.
BEAT. If I can.
ALS. None can so sure: are you honest?
BEAT. Ha, ha, ha! that’s a broad question, my lord.
ALS. But that’s not a modest answer, my lady:
Do you laugh? my doubts are strong upon me.
BEAT.’Tis innocence that smiles, and no rough brow
Can take away the dimple in her cheek:
Say I should strain a tear to fill the vault,
Which would you give the better faith to?
ALS. ’Twere but hypocrisy of a sadder colour,
But the same stuff; neither your smiles nor tears
Shall move or flatter me from my belief:
You are a whore!
BEAT. What a horrid sound it hath!
It blasts a beauty to deformity;
Upon what face soever that breath falls,
It strikes it ugly: O, you have ruin’d
What you can ne’er repair again!
ALS. I'll all
Demolish, and seek out truth within you,
If there be any left; let your sweet tongue
Prevent your heart’s rifling; there I'll ransack
And tear out my suspicion.
BEAT. You may, sir;
It is an easy passage; yet, if you please,
Shew me the ground whereon you lost your love;
My spotless virtue may but tread on that
Before I perish.
ALS. Unanswerable;
A ground you cannot stand on; you fall down
Beneath all grace and goodness when you set
Your ticklish heel on it: there was a visor
Over that cunning face, and that became you;
Now impudence in triumph rides upon’t;
How comes this tender reconcilement else
'Twixt you and your despite, your rancorous loathing,
De Flores? he that your eye was sore at sight of,
He’s now become your arm’s supporter, your
Lip’s saint!
BEAT. Is there the cause?
ALS. Worse, your lust’s devil,
Your adultery!
BEAT. Would any but yourself say that,
'Twould turn him to a villain!
ALS. It was witness’d
By the counsel of your bosom, Diaphanta.
BEAT. Is your witness dead then?
ALS.’Tis to be fear’d
It was the wages of her knowledge; poor soul,
She liv’d not long after the discovery.
BEAT. Then hear a story of not much less horror
Than this your false suspicion is beguil’d with;
To your bed’s scandal I stand up innocence,
Which even the guilt of one black other deed
Will stand for proof of; your love has made me
A cruel murderess.
ALS. Ha!
BEAT. A bloody one;
I have kiss’d poison for it, strok’d a serpent:
That thing of hate, worthy in my esteem
Of no better employment, and him most worthy
To be so employ’d, I caus’d to murder
That innocent Piracquo, having no
Better means than that worst to assure
Yourself to me.
ALS. O, the place itself e’er since
Has crying been for vengeance! the temple,
Where blood and beauty first unlawfully
Fir’d their devotion and quench’d the right one;
’Twas in my fears at first, ’twill have it now:
O, thou art all deform’d!
BEAT. Forget not, sir,
It for your sake was done: shall greater dangers
Make the less welcome?
ALS. O, thou should’st have gone
A thousand leagues about to have avoided
This dangerous bridge of blood! here we are lost.
BEAT. Remember, I am true unto your bed.
ALS. The bed itself’s a charnel, the sheets shrouds
For murder’d carcasses. It must ask pause
What I must do in this; meantime you shall
Be my prisoner only: enter my closet;
[_Exit_ BEATRICE _into closet_.
I'll be your keeper yet. O, in what part
Of this sad story shall I first begin? Ha!
This same fellow has put me in.—

_Enter_ DE FLORES.

De Flores.
DE F. Noble Alsemero!
ALS. I can tell you
News, sir; my wife has her commended to you.
DE F. That’s news indeed, my lord; I think she would
Commend me to the gallows if she could,
She ever loved me so well; I thank her.
ALS. What’s this blood upon your band, De Flores?
DE F. Blood! no, sure ’twas wash’d since.
ALS. Since when, man?
DE F. Since t’other day I got a knock
In a sword-and-dagger school; I think ’tis out.
ALS. Yes, ’tis almost out, but ’tis perceiv’d though.
I had forgot my message; this it is,
What price goes murder?
DE F. How, sir?
ALS. I ask you, sir;
My wife’s behindhand with you, she tells me,
For a brave bloody blow you gave for her sake
Upon Piracquo.
DE F. Upon? ’twas quite through him sure:
Has she confess’d it?
ALS. As sure as death to both of you;
And much more than that.
DE F. It could not be much more;
’Twas but one thing, and that—she is a whore.
ALS. I[t] could not choose but follow: O cunning
devils!
How should blind men know you from fair-fac’d saints?
BEAT. [_within_] He lies! the villain does belie me!
DE F. Let me go to her, sir.
ALS. Nay, you shall to her.—
Peace, crying crocodile, your sounds are heard;
Take your prey to you;—get you in to her, sir:
[_Exit_ DE FLORES _into closet_.
I'll be your pander now; rehearse again
Your scene of lust, that you may be perfect
When you shall come to act it to the black audience,
Where howls and gnashings shall be music to you:
Clip[499] your adulteress freely, ’tis the pilot
Will guide you to the _mare mortuum_,
Where you shall sink to fathoms bottomless.

_Enter_ VERMANDERO, TOMASO, ALIBIUS, ISABELLA,
FRANCISCUS, _and_ ANTONIO.

VER. O Alsemero! I've a wonder for you.
ALS. No, sir, ’tis I, I have a wonder for you.
VER. I have suspicion near as proof itself
For Piracquo’s murder.
ALS. Sir, I have proof
Beyond suspicion for Piracquo’s murder.
VER. Beseech you, hear me; these two have been
disguis’d
E'er since the deed was done.
ALS. I have two other
That were more close disguis’d than your two could be
E'er since the deed was done.
VER. You’ll hear me—these mine own servants.
ALS. Hear me—those nearer than your servants
That shall acquit them, and prove them guiltless.
FRAN. That may be done with easy truth, sir.
TOM. How is my cause bandied through your delays!
’Tis urgent in [my] blood, and calls for haste;
Give me a brother [or] alive or dead;
Alive, a wife with him; if dead, for both
A recompense, for murder and adultery.
BEAT. [_within_] O, O, O!
ALS. Hark! ’tis coming to you.
DE F. [_within_] Nay, I'll along for company.
BEAT. [_within_] O, O!
VER. What horrid sounds are these?
ALS. Come forth, you twins
Of mischief!

_Re-enter_ DE FLORES, _dragging in_ BEATRICE
_wounded_.

DE F. Here we are; if you have any more
To say to us, speak quickly, I shall not
Give you the hearing else; I am so stout yet,
And so, I think, that broken rib of mankind.
VER. An host of enemies enter’d my citadel
Could not amaze like this: Joanna! Beatrice! Joanna!
BEAT. O, come not near me, sir, I shall defile you!
I am that of your blood was taken from you
For your better health; look no more upon’t,
But cast it to the ground regardlessly,
Let the common sewer take it from distinction:
Beneath the stars, upon yon meteor
[_Pointing to_ DE FLORES.

Ever hung[500] my fate, ’mongst things corruptible;
I ne’er[501] could pluck it from him; my loathing
Was prophet to the rest, but ne’er believ’d:
Mine honour fell with him, and now my life.—
Alsemero, I'm a stranger to your bed;
Your bed was cozen’d on the nuptial night,
For which your false bride died.
ALS. Diaphanta?
DE F. Yes, and the while I coupled with your mate
At barley-break;[502] now we are left in hell.
VER. We are all there, it circumscribes [us] here.
DE F. I lov’d this woman in spite of her heart:
Her love I earn’d out of Piracquo’s murder.
TOM. Ha! my brother’s murderer?
DE F. Yes, and her honour’s prize
Was my reward; I thank life for nothing
But that pleasure; it was so sweet to me,
That I have drunk up all, left none behind
For any man to pledge me.
VER. Horrid villain!
Keep life in him for further tortures.
DE F. No!
I can prevent you; here’s my pen-knife still;
It is but one thread more [_stabbing himself_] and now
’tis cut.—
Make haste, Joanna, by that token to thee,
Canst not forget, so lately put in mind;
I would not go to leave thee far behind. [_Dies._
BEAT. Forgive me, Alsemero, all forgive!
’Tis time to die when ’tis a shame to live. _Dies._
VER. O, my name’s enter’d now in that record
Where till this fatal hour ’twas never read!
ALS. Let it be blotted out; let your heart lose it,
And it can never look you in the face,
Nor tell a tale behind the back of life
To your dishonour; justice hath so right
The guilty hit, that innocence is quit
By proclamation, and may joy again.—
Sir, you are sensible of what truth hath done;
’Tis the best comfort that your grief can find.
TOM. Sir, I am satisfied; my injuries
Lie dead before me; I can exact no more,
Unless my soul were loose, and could o’ertake
Those black fugitives that are fled from hence,[503]
To take a second vengeance; but there are wraths
Deeper than mine, ’tis to be fear’d, about ’em.
ALS. What an opacous body had that moon
That last chang’d on us! here is beauty chang’d
To ugly whoredom; here servant-obedience
To a master-sin, imperious murder;
I, a supposed husband, chang’d embraces
With wantonness,—but that was paid before.—
Your change is come too, from an ignorant wrath
To knowing friendship.—Are there any more on’s?
ANT. Yes, sir, I was changed too from a little
ass as I was to a great fool as I am; and had like
to ha' been changed to the gallows, but that you
know my innocence[504] always excuses me.
FRAN. I was chang’d from a little wit to be stark mad,
Almost for the same purpose.
ISA. Your change is still behind,
But deserve best your transformation:
You are a jealous coxcomb, keep schools of folly,
And teach your scholars how to break your own head.
ALIB. I see all apparent, wife, and will change now
Into a better husband, and ne’er keep
Scholars that shall be wiser than myself.
ALS. Sir, you have yet a son’s duty living,
Please you, accept it; let that your sorrow,
As it goes from your eye, go from your heart,
Man and his sorrow at the grave must part.—
All we can do[505] to comfort one another,
To stay a brother’s sorrow for a brother,
To dry a child from the kind father’s eyes,
Is to no purpose, it rather multiplies:
Your only smiles have power to cause re-live
The dead again, or in their rooms to give
Brother a new brother, father a child;
If these appear, all griefs are reconcil’d.
[_Exeunt omnes._

------------------------------------------------------------------------

A GAME AT CHESS.

Of _A Game at Chess_ I have seen three different editions, all 4to, n. d. To two of them, abounding in the grossest errors, is prefixed the engraved title-page, of which a fac-simile is given in the present work. The other edition, which is comparatively very correct, and which I have therefore made the basis of my text (designating it in the notes as Quarto C.), has also an engraved title-page, but less curious and containing fewer figures than that above mentioned.[506]

Mr. J. P. Collier possesses a letter-press title-page of the play, “_Printed_ 1625,” belonging to some edition of which, I believe, no copies are known to exist.

A MS. of _A Game at Chess_, dated 1624, is in the British Museum (_Lansdown_, 690); and another, imperfect, in the library at Bridgewater House: I have collated both for the present edition.

This allegorical and political drama was brought on the stage in 1624; and its production forms a memorable incident in the author’s life: see Account of Middleton and his Writings.

Two of the most important characters in the play are the Black-Knight, that is, Gondonmar the Spanish ambassador, and the Fat Bishop, that is, Antonio de Dominis. The story of the latter is thus concisely related by Hume: “The famous Antonio di Dominis, Archbishop of Spalato, no despicable philosopher, came likewise into England [in 1616], and afforded great triumph to the nation by their gaining so considerable a proselyte from the papists. But the mortification followed soon after. For the Archbishop, though advanced to some ecclesiastical preferments, received not encouragement sufficient to satisfy his ambition, and he made his escape into Italy [in 1622], where soon after he died in confinement.” _Hist. of England_, vol. vi. p. 136, ed. 1763. Such particulars concerning Antonio as were necessary for the illustration of the text will be found in my notes. That he was a man of a restless spirit, vain, ambitious, and avaricious, is no more to be doubted than that his talents and acquirements were of a superior order.

The White King and the Black King represent, I presume, the respective monarchs of England and Spain (see Secretary Conway’s letter in Account of Middleton and his Writings); and the White Queen’s Pawn seems intended to stand for the Church of England.

THE PICTURE PLAINLY EXPLAINED AFTER THE
MANNER OF THE CHESS-PLAY.

A Game at Chess is here display’d,
Between the Black and White House made,
Wherein crown-thirsting policy
For the Black House, by fallacy,
To the White Knight check often gives,
And to some straits him thereby drives;
The Fat Black Bishop helps also,
With faithless heart, to give the blow:
Yet, maugre all their craft, at length
The White Knight, with wit-wondrous strength
And circumspective prudency,
Gives check-mate by discovery
To the Black Knight: and so at last,
The Game thus won, the Black House cast
Into the Bag, and therein shut,
Find all their plumes and cocks-combs cut.
Plain dealing thus, by wisdom’s guide,
Defeats the cheats of craft and pride.