Chapter XXI: Act IV: Scene I

_Field between the two Houses._

_Enter severally Black Knight’s Pawn, and Black Bishop’s
Pawn in his gallant habit._[721]

B. KT.'S PAWN. It’s he, my confessor; he might have
pass’d me
Seven year together, had I not by chance
Advanc’d mine eye upon that letter’d hat-band,
The Jesuitical symbol to be known by,
Worn by the brave collegians with[722] consent:
’Tis a strange habit for a holy father,
A president of poverty especially;
But we, the sons and daughters of obedience,
Dare not once think awry, but must confess ourselves
As humbly to the father of that feather,[723]
Long spur, and poniard, as to the alb and altar,
And happy we’re so highly[724] grac’d to attain to’t.
[_Aside._
Holy and reverend!
B. B. PAWN. How, hast found me out?
B. KT.'S PAWN. O sir, put on the sparkling’st
trim[725] of glory,
Perfection will shine foremost; and I knew you
By the catholical[726] mark you wear about you,
The mark above your forehead.
B. B. PAWN. Are you grown
So ambitious in your observance? well, your business?
I have my game to follow.
B. KT.'S PAWN. I have a worm
Follows me so, that I can follow no game:
The most faint-hearted pawn, if he could see his play,
Might snap me up at pleasure. I desire, sir,
To be absolv’d: my conscience being at ease,
I could then with more courage ply my game.
B. B. PAWN. ’Twas a base fact.
B. KT.'S PAWN. ’Twas to a schismatic pawn, sir.
B. B. PAWN. What’s that to the nobility of revenge?
Suffices[727] I have neither will nor power
To give you absolution for that violence.
Make your petition to the Penance-chamber:
If the tax-register relieve you in’t
By the Black Bishop’s clemency, you have wrought out
A singular piece of favour with your money;
That’s all your refuge now.
B. KT.'S PAWN. The sting shoots deeper. [_Exit._

_Enter White Queen’s Pawn and Black Queen’s Pawn._

B. B. PAWN. Yonder’s my game, which, like a politic
chess-master,
I must not seem to see.
W. Q. PAWN. O my heart! ’tis he.[728]
B. Q. PAWN. That ’tis.
W. Q. PAWN. The very self-same that the magical mirror
Presented lately to me.
B. Q. PAWN. And how like
A most regardless[729] stranger he walks by,
Merely[730] ignorant of his fate! you are not minded,
The principall’st part of him. What strange mysteries
Inscrutable love works by!
W. Q. PAWN. The time, you see,
Is not yet come.
B. Q. PAWN. But ’tis in our power now[731]
To bring time nearer—knowledge is a mastery—
And make it observe us, and not we it.
W. Q. PAWN. I would force nothing from its proper
virtue;
Let time have his full course. I had rather die
The modest death of undiscover’d love
Than have heaven’s least and lowest servant suffer,
Or in his motion receive check, for me.
How is my soul’s growth alter’d! that single life,
The fittest garment that peace ever made for’t,
Is grown too strait, too stubborn on the sudden.
B. Q. PAWN. He comes this way again.
W. Q. PAWN. O, there’s a traitor
Leapt from my heart into my cheek already,
That will betray all to his powerful eye,
If it but glance upon me!
B. Q. PAWN. By my verity,
Look, he’s past by again, drown’d in neglect,
Without the prosperous hint of so much happiness
To look upon his fortune! How close fate
Seals up the eye of human understanding,
Till, like the sun’s flower, time and love unclose[732]
it!
'Twere pity he should dwell in ignorance longer.
W. Q. PAWN. What will you do?
B. Q. PAWN. Yes, die a bashful death, do,
And let the remedy pass by unus’d still:
You’re chang’d enough already, if you’d look into’t.—
Absolute sir, with your most noble pardon
For this my rude intrusion, I am bold
To bring the knowledge of a secret nearer
By many days, sir, than it would arrive
In its own proper revelation with you.
Pray, turn and fix: do you know yond noble goodness?
B. B. PAWN. ’Tis the first minute mine eye blest me
with her,
And clearly shews how much my knowledge wanted,
Not knowing her till now.
B. Q. PAWN. She’s to be lik’d then?
Pray, view advisedly: there is strong reason
That I'm so bold to urge it; you must guess
The work concerns you nearer than you think for.
B. B. PAWN. Her glory and the wonder of this secret
Put[733] a reciprocal amazement on me.
B. Q. PAWN. And ’tis not without worth: you two must
be
Better acquainted.
B. B. PAWN. Is there cause, affinity,
Or any courteous help creation joys in,
To bring that forward?
B. Q. PAWN. Yes, yes, I can shew you
The nearest way to that perfection
Of a most virtuous one that joy e’er found.
Pray, mark her once again, then follow me,
And I will shew you her must be your wife, sir.
B. B. PAWN. The mystery extends, or else creation
Hath set that admirable piece before us
To choose our chaste delights by.
B. Q. PAWN. Please you follow, sir.
B. B. PAWN. What art have you to put me on an object
And cannot get me off! ’tis pain to part from’t.
[_Exit with Black Queen’s Pawn._
W. Q. PAWN. If there prove no check in that magical
glass now,
But my proportion come as fair and full
Into his eye as his into mine lately,
Then I'm confirm’d he is mine own for ever.

_Re-enter Black Queen’s Pawn and Black Bishop’s Pawn._

B. B. PAWN. The very self-same that the mirror blest me
with,
From head to foot, the beauty and the habit!—
Kept you this place still? did you not remove, lady?
W. Q. PAWN. Not a foot further, sir.
B. B. PAWN. Is’t possible?
I would have sworn I had seen the substance yonder,
’Twas to that lustre, to that life presented.
W. Q. PAWN. Even so was yours to me, sir.
B. B. PAWN. Saw you mine?
W. Q. PAWN. Perfectly clear; no sooner my name us’d
But yours appear’d.
B. B. PAWN. Just so did yours at mine now.
B. Q. PAWN. Why stand you idle? will you let time
cozen you,
Protracting time, of those delicious benefits
That fate hath mark’d[734] to you? You modest pair
Of blushing gamesters,—and you, sir, the bashfull’st,
I cannot flatter a foul fault in any,—
Can you be more than man and wife assign’d,
And by a power the most irrevocable?[735]
Others, that be adventurers in delight,
May meet with crosses, shame,[736] or separation;
You know the mind of fate, you must be coupled.
B. B. PAWN. She speaks but truth in this: I see no
reason then
That we should miss the relish of this night,
But that we are both shamefac’d.
W. Q. PAWN. How? this night, sir?
Did not I know you must be mine, and therein
Your privilege runs strong, for that loose motion
You never should be. Is it not my fortune
To match with a pure mind? then am I miserable.
The doves and all chaste-loving winged creatures
Have their pairs fit, their desires justly mated;
Is woman more unfortunate, a virgin,
The May of woman? Fate, that hath ordain’d, sir,
We should be man[737] and wife, hath not given warrant
For any act of knowledge till we are so.
B. B. PAWN. Tender-ey’d modesty, how it grieves[738]
at this!
I'm as far off, for all this strange imposture,
As at first interview. Where lies our game now?
You know I cannot marry[739] by mine order.
B. Q. PAWN. I know you cannot, sir; yet you may
venture
Upon a contract.
B. B. PAWN. Hah!
B. Q. PAWN. Surely you may, sir,
Without all question, so far without danger,
Or any stain to your vow; and that may take her:
Nay, do’t with speed; she’ll think you mean the better
too.
B. B. PAWN. Be not so lavish of that blessed spring;
You’ve wasted that upon a cold occasion now
Would wash a sinful soul white. By our love-joys,
That motion shall ne’er light upon my tongue more
Till we’re contracted; then, I hope, you’re mine.
W. Q. PAWN. In all just duty ever.
B. Q. PAWN. Then? do you question it?
Pish! then you’re man and wife, all but church-ceremony:
Pray, let’s see that done first; she shall do reason
then.—
Now I'll enjoy the sport, and cozen you both:
My blood’s game is the wages I have work’d for.
[_Aside. Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_An apartment in the Black House._

_Enter Black Knight and Black Knight’s Pawn._

B. KNIGHT. Pawn, I have spoke to the Fat Bishop for
thee;
I'll get thee absolution from his own mouth.
Reach me my chair of ease, my chair of cozenage;
Seven thousand pounds in women, reach me that:
I love a' life[740] to sit upon a bank
Of heretic gold. O, soft and gently, sirrah!
There’s a foul flaw[741] i' the bottom of my drum, Pawn:
I ne’er shall make sound soldier, but sound
treacher[742]
With any he in Europe. How now? qualm?
Thou hast the puking’st soul that e’er I met with;
It cannot bear one suckling villany:
Mine can digest a monster without crudity,
A sin as weighty as an elephant,
And never wamble for’t.
B. KT.'S PAWN. Ay, you’ve been us’d to’t, sir;
That’s a great help. The swallow of my conscience
Hath but a narrow passage; you must think yet
It lies i' the penitent pipe, and will not down:
If I had got seven thousand pounds by offices,
And gull’d[743] down that, the bore would have been
bigger.
B. KNIGHT. Nay, if thou prov’st facetious, I shall hug
thee.
Can a soft, rear,[744] poor-poach’d[745] iniquity
So ride upon thy conscience? I'm asham’d of thee.
Hadst thou betray’d the White House to the Black,
Beggar’d a kingdom by dissimulation,
Unjointed[746] the fair frame of peace and traffic,
Poison’d allegiance, set faith back, and wrought
Women’s soft souls even up to masculine malice,
To pursue truth to death, if the cause rous’d ’em,
That stares[747] and parrots are first taught to curse
thee——
B. KT.'S PAWN. Ay, marry, sir, here’s swapping sins
indeed!
B. KNIGHT. All these, and ten times trebled, hath this
brain
Been parent to; they are my offsprings all.
B. KT.'S PAWN. A goodly brood!
B. KNIGHT. Yet I can jest as lightly,[748]
Laugh and tell stirring stories to court-madams,
Daughters of my seducement, with alacrity
As high and hearty as youth’s time of innocence
That never knew a sin to shape a sorrow by:
I feel no tempest, not a leaf wind-stirring
To shake a fault; my conscience is becalm’d rather.
B. KT.'S PAWN. I'm sure there is a whirlwind huffs in
mine, sir.
B. KNIGHT. Sirrah, I've sold the groom-of-the stole
six times,
And receiv’d money of six several ladies
Ambitious to take place of baronets' wives:
To three[749] old mummy matrons I have promis’d
The mothership o' the maids: I've taught our friends too
To convey White-House gold to our Black kingdom
In cold bak’d pasties, and so cozen searchers:
For venting hallow’d oil, beads, medals, pardons,
Pictures, Veronica’s heads in private presses,
That’s done by one i' th' habit of a pedlar;
Letters convey’d in rolls, tobacco-balls:
When a restraint comes, by my politic counsel,
Some of our Jesuits turn[750] gentlemen-ushers,
Some falconers, some park-keepers, and some huntsmen;
One took the shape of an old lady’s cook once,
And despatch’d two chares[751] on a Sunday morning,
The altar and the dresser. Pray, what use
Put I my summer-recreation to,
But more t' inform my knowledge in the state
And strength of the White Kingdom? no fortification,
Haven, creek, landing-place about the White coast,
But I got draft and platform; learn’d[752] the depth
Of all their channels, knowledge of all sands,
Shelves, rocks, and rivers for invasion properest;
A catalogue of all the navy royal,
The burthen of each ship, the brassy murderers,[753]
The number of the men, to what cape bound:
Again, for the discovery of the inlands,
Never a shire but the state better known
To me than to her breast[754]-inhabitants;
What power of men and horse, gentry’s revenues,
Who well affected to our side, who ill,
Who neither well nor ill, all the neutrality:
Thirty-eight thousand souls have been seduc’d, Pawn,
Since the jails[755] vomited with the pill I gave ’em.
B. KT.'S PAWN. Sure, you put oil of toad into[756]
that physic, sir.
B. KNIGHT. I'm now about a masterpiece of play
T' entrap the White Knight, and with false allurements
Entice him to the Black House,—more will follow,—
Whilst our Fat Bishop sets upon the Queen;
Then will our game lie sweetly.

_Enter Fat Bishop with a book._

B. KT.'S PAWN. He’s come now, sir.
F. BISHOP. Here’s _Taxa Pœnitentiaria_, Knight,
The Book of General Pardons, of all prices:
I have been searching for his sin this half hour,
And cannot light upon’t.
B. KNIGHT. That’s strange; let me see’t.
B. KT.'S PAWN. Wretched that I am! hath my rage done
that
There is no precedent of pardon for?
B. KNIGHT. [_reads_] _For wilful murder thirteen pound
four shillings
And sixpence_,—that’s reasonable cheap,—_For killing,
Killing, killing, killing, killing, killing_—
Why, here’s nothing but _killing_, Bishop, on this side.
F. BISHOP. Turn the sheet o’er, and you shall find
adultery
And other trivial sins.
B. KNIGHT. Adultery? O,
I'm in’t now—[_reads_] _For adultery a couple
Of shillings, and for fornication fivepence_,—
Mass,[757] these are two good pennyworths! I cannot
See how a man can mend himself—_For lying
With mother, sister, or[758] daughter_,—ay, marry, sir,—
_Thirty-three pounds three shillings and[759]
threepence_,—
The sin’s gradation right, paid all in threes too.
F. BISHOP. You’ve read the story of that monster, sir,
That got his daughter, sister, and his wife
Of his own mother?
B. KNIGHT. [_reads_] _Simony, nine pound._
F. BISHOP. They may thank me for that; it was nineteen
Before I came;
I've mitigated many of the sums.[760]
B. KNIGHT. [_reads_] _Sodomy, sixpence_—you should put
that sum
Ever on the backside of your book, Bishop.
F. BISHOP. There’s few on’s very forward, sir.
B. KNIGHT. What’s here, sir? [_reads_] _Two old
precedents of encouragement_——
F. BISHOP. Ay, those are ancient notes.
B. KNIGHT. [_reads_] _Given, as a gratuity, for the
killing of an heretical prince with a poisoned knife,
ducats five thousand._[761]
F. BISHOP. True, sir; that was paid.
B. KNIGHT. [_reads_] _Promised also to doctor Lopez[762]
for poisoning the maiden queen of the White Kingdom,
ducats twenty thousand; which said sum was afterwards
given as a meritorious alms to the nunnery at Lisbon,
having at this present ten thousand pounds more at use
in the town-house of Antwerp._
B. KT.'S PAWN. What’s all this to my conscience,
worthy holiness?
I sue for pardon; I've brought money with me.
F. BISHOP. You must depart; you see there is no
precedent
Of any price or pardon for your fact.
B. KT.'S PAWN. Most miserable! Are fouler sins
remitted,
Killing, nay, wilful murder?
F. BISHOP. True, there’s instance:
Were you to kill him, I would pardon you;
There’s precedent for that, and price set down,
But none for gelding.
B. KT.'S PAWN. I've pick’d out understanding now for
ever
Out of that cabalistic bloody riddle:
I'll make away all my estate,[763] and kill him,
And by that act obtain full absolution.
[_Aside, and exit._

_Enter Black King._

B. KING. Why, Bishop, Knight, where’s your removes,
your traps?
Stand you now idle in the heat of game?
B. KNIGHT. My life for yours, Black sovereign, the
game’s ours;
I have wrought underhand for the White Knight
And his brave Duke, and find ’em coming both.
F. BISHOP. Then for their sanctimonious Queen’s
surprisal, sir,
In that state-puzzle and distracted hurry,
Trust my arch-subtlety with.
B. KING.[764] O eagle pride!
Never was game more hopeful of our side.
[_Exeunt B. King and F. Bishop._
B. KNIGHT. If Bishop[765] Bull-beef be not snapt[766]
next[767] bout,
As the men stand, I'll never trust art more. [_Exit._

SCENE III.

_Dumb Show._

_Recorders. Enter Black Queen’s Pawn with a taper in her
hand; she conducts White Queen’s Pawn, in her
night-attire,[768] into one chamber, and then
conveys Black Bishop’s Pawn, in his night-habit,
into another chamber, and putting out the light,
follows him._

SCENE IV.

_Field between the two Houses._

_Enter White Knight and White Duke._

W. KNIGHT. True, noble Duke, fair virtue’s[769] most
endear’d one;
Let us prevent[770] their rank insinuation
With truth of cause and courage, meet their plots
With confident goodness that shall strike’em grovelling.
W. DUKE. Sir, all the gins, traps, and alluring
snares,
The devil hath been at work since eighty-eight[771] on,
Are laid for the great hope of this game only.
W. KNIGHT. Why, the more noble will truth’s triumph
be:
When they have wound about our constant courages
The glittering’st[772] serpent that e’er falsehood
fashion’d,
And glorying most in his resplendent poisons,
Just heaven can find a bolt to bruise his head.
W. DUKE. Look, would you see destruction lie
a-sunning?

_Enter Black Knight._

In yonder smile sit[773] blood and treachery basking;
In that perfidious model of face[774]-falsehood
Hell is drawn grinning.
W. KNIGHT. What a pain it is
For truth to feign a little!
B. KNIGHT. O fair Knight,
The rising glory of that House of Candour,
Have I so many protestations lost,
Lost, lost, quite lost? am I not worth your confidence?
I that have vow’d the faculties of soul,
Life, spirit, and brain, to your sweet game of youth,
Your noble, fruitful game? Can you mistrust
Any foul play in me, that have been ever
The most submiss observer of your virtues,
And no way tainted with ambition,
Save only to be thought your[775] first admirer?
How often have I chang’d, for your delight,
The royal presentation of my place
Into a mimic jester, and become,
For your sake and th' expulsion of sad thoughts,
Of a grave state-sire[776] a light son of pastime,
Made three-score years a tomboy, a mere wanton!
I'll tell you what I told a Savoy dame once,
New-wed, high-plump, and lusting for an issue:
Within the year I promis’d her a child,
If she could[777] stride over saint Rumbant’s[778]
breeches,
A relique kept at Mechlin: the next morning
One my followers' old hose[779] was convey’d
Into her chamber, where she tried the feat;
By that, and a court-friend, after grew great.
W. KNIGHT. Why, who could be without thee?
B. KNIGHT. I will change
To any shape to please you; and my aim
Hath been to win your love in all this game.
W. KNIGHT. Thou hast it nobly, and we long to see
The Black-House pleasure, state, and dignity.
B. KNIGHT. Of honour you’ll so surfeit and delight,
You’ll ne’er desire again to see the White. [_Exeunt._

_Enter White Queen._

W. QUEEN. My love, my hope, my dearest! O, he’s gone,
Ensnar’d, entrapt, surpris’d amongst the Black ones!
I never felt extremity like this:
Thick darkness dwells upon this hour; integrity,
Like one of heaven’s bright luminaries, now
By error’s dullest element interpos’d,
Suffers a black eclipse. I never was
More sick of love than now I am of horror:
I shall be taken; the game’s lost, I'm set upon!—

_Enter Fat Bishop._

O, ’tis the turncoat Bishop, having watch’d
Th' advantage of his play, comes now to seize on me!
O, I am hard beset, distrest most miserably!
F. BISHOP. ’Tis vain to stir; remove which way you
can,
I take you now; this is the time we’ve hop’d for:
Queen, you must down.
W. QUEEN. No rescue, no deliverance![780]
F. BISHOP. The Black King’s blood burns for thy
prostitution,
And nothing but die spring of thy chaste virtue
Can cool his inflammation; instantly

_Enter White Bishop._

He dies upon a plurisy of luxury,[781]
If he deflower thee not.
W. QUEEN. O strait of misery!
W. BISHOP. And is your holiness his divine procurer?
F. BISHOP. The devil’s in’t, I'm taken by a ring-dove!
Where stood this Bishop that I saw him not?
W. BISHOP. O,[782] you were so ambitious you look’d
o’er me!
You aim’d at no less person than the Queen,
The glory of the game; if she were won,
The way were open to the master-check,

_Enter White King._

Which, look you, he and his live[783] to give you;
Honour and virtue guide him in his station!
W. QUEEN. O my safe sanctuary!
W. KING. Let heaven’s blessings
Be mine no longer than I am thy sure one!
The dove’s house is not safer in the rock
Than thou in my firm bosom.
W. QUEEN. I am blest in’t.
W. KING. Is it that lump of rank ingratitude,
Swell’d with the poison of hypocrisy?
Could he be so malicious, hath partaken
Of the sweet fertile blessings of our kingdom?—
Bishop, thou’st done our White House gracious service,
And worthy the fair reverence of thy place.—
For thee, Black holiness, that work’st out thy death
As the blind mole, the properest son of earth,
Who, in the casting his ambitious hills up,
Is often taken and destroy’d i' the midst
Of his advancèd work; ’twere well with thee
If, like that verminous labourer, which thou imitat’st
In hills of pride and malice, when death puts thee up,
The silent grave might prove thy bag for ever;
No deeper pit than that: for thy vain hope
Of the White Knight and his most firm assistant,
Two princely pieces, which I know thy thoughts
Give lost for ever now, my strong assurance
Of their fix’d virtues, could you let in seas
Of populous untruths against that fort,
'Twould burst the proudest billows.
W. QUEEN. My fear’s past then.
W. KING. Fear? you were never[784] guilty of an injury
To goodness, but in that.
W. QUEEN. It stay’d not with me, sir.
W. KING. It was too much if it usurp’d a thought:
Place a strong[785] guard there.
W. QUEEN. Confidence is set, sir.
W. KING. Take that prize hence; go, reverend of men,
Put covetousness into the bag again.
F. BISHOP. The bag had need be sound, or’t goes to
wrack;
Sin and my weight will make a strong one crack.
[_Exeunt._