Enter Orange, Bredero, Vandort.
Bred. Is't possible he should be so far tempted[181] To kill himself?
Vand. 'Has don it and most desperately,Nor could strong nature stay his hand,—his owne ChildThat slept beside him: which showes him guilty, lords,More then we suspected.
Or. 'Tis to be feard soeAnd therefore, howsoere I movd your lordshipsTo a mild and sweet proceeding in this busines,That nothing might be construde in't malitiousAnd make the world believe our owne ends wrought it,Now it concernes ye to put on more strictnesAnd with seveerer eyes to looke into it:Ye robb yourselves of your owne rightes els, Justice,And loose those pious names your Cuntries safeties.And sodainely this must be don and constantly:The powrs ye hold els wilbe scornd & laughd at,And theis unchristian stroakes be laid to your charge.
Bred. Your Grace goes right; but with what generall safetie(For ther's the mayne point), if we proceed seveerelyMay this be don? We all know how much followedAnd with what swarmes of love this MounsieurBarnaveltIs courted all the Cuntry over. Besides, atLeydenWe heare howHogerbeetsbehaves himself,And how he stirrs the peoples harts against us.AndGrotiushas byn heard to say, and openly,(A man of no meane mark nor to be slighted)That if we durst imprisonBarnaveltHe would fire the Court and State-house, and that SacrifizeHe would make more glorious with your blood and ours, Sir.
Vand. All angers are not armd; the lowdest Channell Runs shallowest, and there betrayes his weaknes: The deep & silent man threatens the danger.
Or. If they had equall powre to man their willsAnd hope, to fling their miseries upon us,I that nere feard an Army in the feild,A body of most choice and excellent SoldiersAnd led by Captaines honourd for experience:Can I feare them or shake at their poore whispers?I that have broke the beds of MuteniesAnd bowde againe to faire obedienceThose stubborne necks that burst the raynes of order,Shall I shrinck now and fall, shot with a rumour?No, my good Lords, those vollyes never fright me;Yet, not to seeme remisse or sleep secure here,I have taken order to prevent their angers;I have sent Patents[182] out for the choicest CompaniesHether to be remov'd: first, CollonellVeresFromDort; next SirCharles Morgans, a stowt Company;And last my Cosens, the CountErnestsCompany:With theis I doubt not to make good our busines;They shall not find us babes.
Bred. You are nobely provident.
Vand. And now proceed when it please you, and what you thinck fit We shall subscribe to all.
Or. I thanck your Honours. Call in the Captaine of my Guard.
Serv. Hee's here, Sir.
Enter Captaine.
Or. Harck in your eare.
Cap. I shall, Sir.
Or. Doe it wisely And without tumult.
Cap. I observe your Grace.
Or. Now take your rest, my lords: for what care followes Leave it to me.
All. We wish it all succes, Sir.
[Exeunt.
Enter Barnavelt (in his studdy).
Bar. This from the King ofFraunce, of much importance,And this fromEnglandsQueene, both mightie PrincesAnd of immortall memories: here the Rewards sett,—They lou'd me both. The King ofSwechlandthis,About a Truyce; his bounty, too. What's this?From the Elector Palatine ofBrandenburge,To doe him faire and acceptable offices:I did so; a rich iewell and a chaine he sent me.The Count ofSolems, and this from his faire CountessAbout compounding of a busines:I did it and I had their thancks. CountBentham,The Archbishop ofCullen, Duke ofBrunswick,GraveEmbden: theis from Citties, theis from Provinces;Petitions theis; theis from the States for places.Have I held correspondence with theis Princes,And had their loves, the molding of their busines,Trusted with their most secreat purposes?Of every State acquainted with the misteries?And must I stick here now, stick unreleevd, too?Must all theis glories vanish into darknes,AndBarnaveltpasse with 'em and glide awayLike a spent exhalation? I cannot hold;I am crackt too deepe alredy. What have I donI cannot answeare? Foole! remember notFame has too many eares and eyes to find thee!What help, ô miserable man? none left thee.What constant frends? 'tis now a cryme to know thee… … … be death.
Enter Servant.
Serv. My Lady would entreat, Sir—
Bar. My head? What art thou? from whom sent?
Serv. Heaven blesse me!
Bar. Are they so greedy of my blood?—O, pardon me: I know thee now; thou art my honest Servant. What would thy Lady?
Serv. Your Company to supper, Sir.
Bar. I cannot eate; I am full alredy, tell hir:Bid hir sitt downe: full, full, too full. [Exit Serv.My thancksPoyzd equally with those faire servicesI have done the States, I should walk confidentlyUpon this high-straind danger. O, this end swayes me,A heavy bad opinion is fixt hereThat pulls me of; and I must downe for ever.
Enter Daughter[183]
Daught. Sir, will it please ye—
Bar. Ha!
Daught. Will it please ye, Sir—
Bar. Please me! what please me?—that I send thee, Girle, To some of my great Masters to beg for me. Didst thou meane so?
Daught. I meane, Sir—
Bar. Thou art too charitableTo prostitute thy beutie to releeve me;With thy soft kisses to redeeme from fettersThe stubborne fortune of thy wretched father.
Daught. I understand ye not.
Bar. I hope thou do'st not.
Daught. My Lady Mother, Sir—
Bar. Prethee, good Girle, Be not so cruell to thy aged father To somme up all his miseries before him.
Daught. I come, Sir, to entreat your Company.
Bar. I am not alone.
Daught. My Mother will not eate, Sir. —What fitt is this!
Bar. There can be no attonement:I know the Prince:Vandortis fleshd upon me,AndBredero, though he be of noble nature,Dare not step in. Wher's my SonWilliam?His Goverment is gon, too; and the Soldier,O, the falce Soldier! What! wouldst thou have a husband?Goe, marry an English Captaine, and hee'll teach theeHow to defy thy father and his fortune.—I cannot eate; I have no stomach, Girle.
Daught. Good Sir, be patient.
Bar. No news fromGrotius? No flow of frends there?Hoger-beetslye still, too? —Away: ile come anon.
Daught. Now heaven preserve ye! [Exit.
Bar. A gentle Girle: why should not I pray, too?I had nere more need. When I am sett and gon,What understanding can they stick up thenTo fill the place I bore? None, not a man:To traffick with Great Princes? none: to dealeWith all the trobles of the war? None, certaine, no man:To bring in daylie treasure? I know no man;They cannot pick a man made up to serve 'em.Why should I feare then? doubt, and fly beforeMyne owne weake thoughts?—Art thou there, too?
Enter Wife[184] and Daughter.
Wife. Fy, fy, Sir:Why do you suffer theis sad dead retirementsTo choake your speritts? You have studied long enoughTo serve the uses of those men that scorne ye;'Tis time you take your ease now.
Bar. I shall shortly; An everlasting ease, I hope.
Wife. Why weep ye, My deere Sir? speak.
Bar. Never till now unhappie! Thy fruit there and my fall ripen togeather And fortune gives me heires of my disgraces.
Wife. Take nobler thoughts.
Bar. What will becom of thee, Wiffe,When I am gon? When they have gorgd their enviesWith what I have, what honest hand in pittyWill powre out to thy wants? What noble eyeWill looke upon my Children strooke with miserieAnd say 'you had a father that I honourd;For his sake be my Brothers and my Sisters.'
Wife. There cannot be such crueltie.
Bar. I hope not;Yet what so confident Sailour that heares the Sea rore,The winds sing lowd and dreadfull, the day darkend,But he will cry 'a storme'! downe with his CanvasAnd hull, expecting of that horrid feavour?
Enter Son.
—How now? What newes?
Son. Plucke up your hart, Sir, fairely And wither not away thus poorely from us; Be now secure: the myst ye feard is vanishd,—Leidenberch'sdead.
Bar. Dead?
Son. Killd himself; his owne handMost bravely was his Justice; nor left behind himOne peece of paper to dishonour ye.They are all to seeke now for their Accusations.
Bar. And is he dead? so timely, too? so truly? Speak't againe,Will?
Son. Hee's dead, Sir, if I live here.
Bar. And his owne hand?
Son. His hand and will performd it.
Bar. Give me some wyne. I find now, notwithstanding[Enter Servant with wine.The opposition of those mindes that hate me,A wise-man spyns his owne fate and secures it.Nor can I, that have powre to perswade men dye,Want living frends to iustifie my Creadit.Goe in and get me meat now; invyte my frends,I am determind to be high and merry.Thou hast lost thy Charge; wee'll have another,Will;It shall goe hard els. The Prince ofOrangenowWill find what frends I have, and of what reckning;And when he seekes this life, he must make passageThrough thousands more and those he little dreames of.
Son. I wonder how he got that speritt, Sir, to dye soe?
Bar. He was a weak man, indeed, but he has redeemd it: There be some other I could wish of his mind. Do'st thinck they dare doe any thing now.
Son. 'Troth, I thinck not, Sir.
Bar. No, Boy, I warrant thee; they make great soundes, But mark what followes. Prethee, let's be merry, I want it much.
Son. I am glad to see you so, Sir.
Enter Servant.
Bar. I cannot be above two daies from Councell, I know their wants. How now, what haste?
Serv. O, Sir, ye are undon; We have lost ye.
Bar. Ha!
Serv. For ever lost ye.
Bar. Why?
[Serv.] The Captaine of the Guard, the Princes Captaine—
Bar. Where? how?
Enter Wife & Daughter.
Serv. Is broken in now upon us.
Wife. He will not be denyde. O, my deare Husband! The cruell Princes Captaine!
[Captaine within.
Cap. Ope the dore; Wee'll force it els, and all that dare resist us Wee'll put to th'Sword.
Bar. Open the dore: farewell, Wiffe;Goe to the French Embassadour presently;There's all my hope. To him make knowne my misery,Wooe him with teares, with praires: this kisse; be happie.
Wife. O, we shall never see ye more!
[Exeunt Wife and Daughter.
Enter Captaine & others.
Bar. Away!—You Instrument of blood, why doe ye seeke us?I have knowne the day you have wayted like a suppliantAnd those knees bended as I past. Is there no reverenceBelonging to me left now, that like a RuffianRudely ye force my lodgings? No punishmentDue to a cryme of that fowle nature?
Cap. You must pardon me,I have commission, Sir, for what I offer,And from those men that are your Masters, too;At least you'll find 'em soe. You must shift your lodging,And presently: I have a charge to see yeYeild yourself quietly.
Bar. Goe and tell their LordshipsI will attend to-morrow. I know my timeAnd how to meet their mallice without guards.This is the Prince, the cruell Prince your Master,The thirstie Prince of this poore Life.
Cap. Be not vext; That will not help ye, Sir.
Bar. I wilbe vext,And such an anger I will fling amongst 'emShall shake the servile soules of these poore wretchesThat stick his slight deservings above mine.I charge ye draw your Guard off and disperce 'em:I have a powre as full as theirs.
Cap. You'll find not; And I must have ye with me.
Bar. And am I subiectThat have stood the brunt of all their busines,And when they slept watcht to secure their slombers,—Subiect to slights, to scornes, to taynts, to tortures?To feed one privat mallice am I betrayd?Myne age, myne honour and my honest dealingSold to the hangmans Sword?
Cap. I cannot stay.
Bar. Take meAnd glory in my blood, you most ungratefull;Feed your long bloody hopes and bath your angersInBarnaveltsdeservings; share my Services;Let it be death to pitty me; to speak well of me,The ruyn of whole famylies. When I am gonAnd angry war againe shall ceize your Cuntry,Too late remember then and cursse your follyes.—I am ready. Farwell, Son; remember meBut not my fortune; let them cry that shall want me.
Cap. No man come neere on paine of death: away with him.
[Exeunt.
Enter Orange & 1 Captaine.[185]
Cap. And as I told your Highnes, so wee tooke him.
Or. 'Twas with discretion and valour followd. You were not noted as you made entraunce Into theHague?
Cap. No, Sir; 'twas about midnight, And few were stirring but the Guard.
Or. The better.Let his being brought in be still conceald, and tell himIf uncompelld he will confes the truthAtBarnaveltsArraignement, that all favourThat I can wyn him shall prepare a wayTo quallifie his fault.
Cap. Ile work him to it And doubt not.
Enter Burgers & Women with bowghs & flowres.
Cap. 'Tis Kramis[186]-time,In which it is a custome with the peopleTo deck their dores with Garlonds, Bowghes, and flowresThat are most gratious.
Or. I remember. —Stand close.
[1]Burg. Strew, strew: more Garlonds and more Flowres.Up with the Bowghes! Sacramant, I will haveMy noble frends house, MounseiurBarnavelts,As well deckt as his Excellencies Court,For though they have got him in prison he deservesAs well as any.
Cap. Mark you that.
2Burg. 'Tis said They will cutt of his head.
1Burg. Much![187] with a Cusshin! They know he has too many frends.
[2]Burg. They dare not. People will talke: I hope ere long to see him As great as ever.
[1]Burg. Greater too, I doubt not, And of more powre; his feet upon the necks Of all his Enemies.
Or. I am glad I heard this; AndBarnaveltshall feele I will make use oft. Come; follow me. [Exeunt.
2Burg. So, now the merry Song We made for his good Lady. Lustique,[188] hoa!
[Song.
Enter Wife above.
Wife. All thancks, kind frends, that a sad house can give yePray you receive; for I rest well assurd,Though theis sports are unseasonable here,They testifie your loves; and, if my LordEre live to be himself againe, I knowHe will remember it.
1Burg. Now for the Daunce, Boyes.
Wife. Ther's something for your paines: drinck it, I pray.
2Burg. To a doyt, my vroa, to thy Lords health and thyne. The Bree[189] for his Excellencie and the Heeres That love him not. Ten hundred thousand blessings To him and thee, my vroa. [Daunce.
Wife. I thanck you, frend. [Exeunt.
Enter Orange, Bredero, Vandort, William, Lords. [Table.
Vand. Let him be sent for presently: he shall know, [A Bar brought in. Were he ten times more popular, his frends And flatterers Centuple, the Sword of Justice Shall fall on him as on the meanest man Since he deserves it.
Enter Provost, Captaines & Guard with Barnavelt.
Pro. Make roome for the Prisoner.
Bar. My dutie to your Highnes and theis PrincesAnd an increase of wisdome to your Lordships,For which the world admires you, I wish to you.Alas, what troble do's a weake old man,(That is, being out of all imployment, useles)The bag of his deserts, too, cast behind you,Impose upon this Senat? My poore life(Which others envy makes your InstrumentsTo fight against) will hardly be a ConquestWorthie such great performers.
Vand. MounseiurBarnavelt,'Tis no mans envy that hath brought us hetherTo sitt as Judges on you, but your owne.Your owne late actions they have raisd a warAgainst your former merritts, and defeatedWhat ever then was ranckt for good and great,For which your Enemies, those that you thought frends,Triumph, not wee.
Bre. We rather wish you could Acquitt yourself of that for which we have Too evident prooffes, then labour to intrap you.
Bar. I must beleeve and suffer whatsoever Your Lordships charge me with: yet would gladly heare What my faultes are.
Vand. Read the Confessions OfLeidenberchandTaurinus.
Bar.Leidenberch!
Officer reads. First, that theArminianfaction (of which SirJohn Van Olden Barnavelt, late Advocate ofHollandandWest Frizelandand Councellor of State, was without contradiction the head) had resolved and agreed to renounce and break the generallity and unitie of the State.
Secondly, Change and alter the Religion, and to that end, without theConsent of the Generall States, had raysed up and dispeirsed 3000Arminian Soldiers.
Thirdly, To degrade the Prince ofOrange.
Fourthly, To massacre the people of the Townes which were their greatestEnemies or offered resistaunce.
Fiftly, yf that fayled, to take in assistaunce of some forreignePotentates, asSpaineorBrabant, delivering unto themUtricht,Nunweghen, Bergen op Zone, and theBrill—
Bar. And that, with others, this wasBarnaveltspurpose? For so your Lordships take it.
Bred. With good reason.
Vand. Too many and strong proofes invyting us To creadit it.
Bar. Yf you will have them such,All truth I can bring to dyvert your LordshipsFrom your determinate opinion that wayWill not remove them. Yet 'tis strange that manShould labour to devide those Generall StatesThat had no weak hand in unyting them,—ThatBarnavelt(a name you have rememberedWhen you have thought by whom you were mad happie)—ThatBarnavelt(alowd I dare repeat it),Who, when there was Combustion in the State,Your Excellence, GraveWilliamand CountHenrie,Taking instructions for your CommaundsFrom one that then ruld all; the ProvincesRefucing to bring in their ContributionsAnd arguing whether the WestFrizelanderAndHollanderhad powre to raise such Tribut,When many of the Governours stood illAffected to you, all our GarrisonsNot sworne then to the Generall States but others,Which the promiscuous multitude gladly followed:WhenGravesandVendloewere held by theSpaniardAndNunweghenwith violence assaulted,Confusion with one greedy gripe being readyTo seaze on all; then when theSluicewas lostAnd all in muteny atMidleborough,Who then rose up or durst step in before meTo doe these Cuntries service? Who then labourdMore then the now suspectedBarnaveltT'appease seditions and compound all Quarrells?Who pacified the Malcontents? Who taught youTo stand upon your Guards and trust yourselves?O, you forgettfull, all this I performdAnd in the golden fagot of faire ConcordBound safely up those strengthes which Mutenies,Corruption and homebred Traitors scatterd.
Vand. This is a point you often choose to treat of, And yet some part of theis good services None will deny you.
Or. But to ingrosse all Would argue me your ward, should I give way too't, And these grave Lords your Schollers.
Bar. In the ArtOf Goverment they scornd not once to be soe,Nor you to give me hearing: and if ever'Twer lawful th' unthanckfull men t'upbraidUnequall benefitts, let it not in meBe now held glorious if I speake my best.I have five times in regall EmbassiesByn sent the principall Agent for theis Cuntries,And for your good have spoken face to faceWith mightie Kings: twyce with that virgin Queene,Our Patronesse of happie memory,ElizabethofEngland; twyce inFraunceWith that invincible King that worthely(Though dead) is still'd theGreat, Henrythefourth;Once with the King ofBritainethat now is:Yet let my greatest Enemy name the leastOf theis so high Imployments in which ITreated without advantage, and returnd notWith proffitt, as with honour, to my Cuntry,And let me fall beneath the worst aspersionHis mallice can throw on me. Besides SoldiersSo often levied by my meanes for you,Which to particularize were teadious,Two millions and five hundred thousand pounds,For which the Provinces stood bound, I wroughtFreely to be dischargd; the Townes they pawndTo be deliverd up; and after allTheis meritorious and prosperous travellsT'unyte theis States, canBarnaveltbe suspectedTo be the authour to undoe that knotWhich with such toyle he fastend[190].
Or. Pawse, I beseech you,And while you gather breath to fill the TrumpetOf your deserts give me leave to deliverA litle for the States and mine owne honour.We have heard a glorious Catalogue of your vertuesBut not one vice or slip of yours rememberd;But I will help your memory:—who was heThat gave intelligence of my sodaine commingTo surprizeAntwerpe? They that brought the LettersWere knowne and but from you could have no noticeOf any such design. Who hinderd meFrom rescuing ofRheinberchin the last Seige?Who warranted the yeilding of it upWithout necessitie to the Governour?Who was the cause no greater powre was sentAgainst the Enemie when he past the RhineAnd tooke the Townes ofOldensell, Lingen, Groll?To thinck of this would give a litle ventTo the windy bladder of your vanitieWhich you have blowne to an unlymitted vastnes.Your Insolence to me before the BattaileOfFlaundersI forget[191].—Call inModesbargen.
Bar. [aside[192]] He a prisoner, too! Then I am lost.
Enter Captaine with Modesbargen.
Or. Ha! do's that startle you?
Bar. [aside[192]] I must collect myself.
Or. You shall heare more.
Modesb. O, MounseiurBarnavelt, do we meet thus?I am as sorry to behold you thereAs know myself a Prisoner. Now you perceiveTo what a desperate state your headlong CounsellsAnd rash designes have brought us: to stand out nowWere to no purpose, for, alas, they haveToo pregnant prooffes against us.
Bar. You that feeleThe horrour of fowle guilt in your falce bosomConfes yourself soe; my strong InocenceTo the death stands constant.
Or. TakeModesbargenin.
[Exit Cap. and Modesb.]
Vand. This is an impudence I never read of.But now wee'll show thee, miserable man,Such further prooffes as would call up a blushUpon the devills cheeke. Looke upon this,Signd by the Governor, Chauncellor and CounsellOfGilderlandandZutphen, who here name theeThe roote and head of the late Schisme.
Bred. And thisSent from the Lords ofUtrecht, where 'tis prov'dThat the new Companies were raisd by you,And to what purpose.
William. To subvert Religion, To deface Justice and to breake the union And holly League betweene theProvinces.
[Henry.[193] The Proclamations are allowd by youSent forth against the Protestants; and hereYour resolution to degrade my BrotherAnd then dispose of him as you thought fitt.]
Vand. Your plott here to withdraw all the old Soldiers From the Commandement of the States, and wyn them To serve for your ends in a Civill war.
Bred. To raise up Cittizen against Cittizen, Stranger gainst stranger, Soldier against Soldier, And Maiestrates against the Maiestrates.
Or. To waste the Land within that with lesse dangerThe forraigne Enemy might make his entraunce.Yf then this be not treacherie beyondAll presidents of Traitours—
Bar. Give me LeaveOnely to smile, then say all theis are falce,Your witnesses subornd, your testemoniesAnd wrytings forgd, and this elaborate formeOf Justice to delude the world a coverFor future practises: this I affirmeUpon my soule[194]. Now when you please condempne me:I will not use one sillable for your mercyTo have mine age renewd and once againeTo see a second triumph of my glories.You rise, and I grow tedious; let me takeMy farwell of you yet, and at the placeWhere I have oft byn heard; and, as my lifeWas ever fertile of good councells for you,It shall not be in the last moment barren.Octavius[195], when he did affect the EmpireAnd strove to tread upon the neck ofRomeAnd all hir ancient freedoms, tooke that course[196]That now is practisd on you; for theCatosAnd all free sperritts slaine or els proscribdThat durst have stir'd against him, he then sceasdThe absolute rule of all. You can apply this[197]:And here I prophecie I, that have lyvdAnd dye a free man, shall when I am ashesBe sensible of your groanes and wishes for me;And when too late you see this GovermentChangd to a Monarchie[198] youll howle in vaineAnd wish you had aBarnaveltagaine.Now lead me where you will: a speedy Sentence:I am ready for it and 'tis all I ask you.
[Exeunt.
Actus Quintus.
Enter Wife, Daughter, Servant with Peares.
Wife. Denyde to see my Husband! ô you Tirants!And (to increase my misery) in vaineBy heaven I kneeld for't, wept and kneeld in vaineTo such as would, whileBarnaveltwas himself—But why do I remember that word 'was,'That never happie word of 'was.'
Serv. Good Madam,Beare (with your usuall wisdom) what is notIn you to help. The strict guard's kept upon him;His State ceizd on; my Lord your Son disgracd, too,And all your frends suspected, may assure youNo price beneath his head must answeare for him.
Daughter. But is he not alredy dead?
Wife. I, I, There lyes my feare.
Serv. I sweare to you I saw himNot many howres since, and hundreds more;But yet, as one that's bound to honour him,I had rather have had assuraunce of his deathThan so to have seen him.
Both. Why?
Serv. I have followd himWhen every step he made met a Petition,And these, that are his Judges now, like ClyentsHave wayted on him. The whole Court attendedWhen he was pleasd to speake, and, with such murmoursAs glad Spectators in a TheaterGrace their best Actors with, they ever heard him;When to have had a sight of him was heldA prosperous omen; when no eye gazd on himThat was not filld with admiration, notAs now with scorne or pitty. His rude Guard,For proofe that they contempne all such as aymeOr hope for his release (as if he wereSome prodigie or monster), each night show himTo such as greive his fortune, which must beTo him worse then ten thousand deaths made horridWith all the actes of Crueltie.
Daught. I have hope yet To see an alteration.
Wife. My good Servant,He has some frends left yet and powerfull onesThat can doe more then weepe for him as we doe;Those I will strayt sollicite. In the meane time,That to his comfort he may know so much,Endeavour thou to have this simple presentAs from thy self sent to him.
Serv. I will hazard All that can fall upon me to effect it.
[Exeunt[199] Wife and Daughter.
Enter Provost & Guard.
Pro. What makes this fellow here? Whether would ye, Sir?
Serv. Sir, to desire accesse unto my LordWere to ask that I know must be denide,And therefore I forbeare it; but intreatingWhat cannot wrong you in the graunt, I hopeTo find you curteous.
Pro. What's the Suit?
Serv. This onely:My Lord, your prisoner, for my service gave meA poore house with an Orchard in the Cuntry.The fruites of which he did not scorne to taste ofIn th'height of his prosperitie; but of allThat pleasd his pallat there was one faire tree,On which theis Peares grew, which by his appointmentWere still reservd for him, and as a RentDue for my Living I stood bound to tender.Theis, yf you please, the last I shall pay to him,I would present him with, by what AttorneyYour goodnes shall prescribe me.
Prov. They are faire Peares, Exceeding faire ones: ile make bold with one, The rest beare to him.
Serv. [aside[200]] All wilbe discoverd, I am glad I am got off, yet. [Exit.
Enter Provosts Wife[201].
Prov. What make you here? Do you come to traile a pike or use a Musket?
Wife. For neither, Sir; I came to see you.
Pro. Home!This is no place for women. To your Gossips!This burthen would become a Chamber better.
Wife. 'Tis a faire Peare.
Prov. You long for't: pray you take it,You are priviledgd now to beg.—Ha! charmes in't? stay,Give mee't. I would not for a thousand dollarsThis had byn undiscoverd. Pray you goe home;At night ile see you.
Wife. You know my obedience And I must practise it.
Prov. Make out for the fellowThat came with this device. 'Twas queintly carried:The stalke pluckt cleanly out, and in the quillThis scroll conveyd. What ere it be the PrinceShall instantly peruse it.
Enter Orange, Wm., Vandort, Bredero.
Or. How came you by this?
Prov. I intercepted it in a dish of Peares Brought by a man ofBarnavelts, but sent to him From some of better ranck.
Or. See what is written here,— 'You have frends left and therefore, Sir, dispaire not.'
Vand. 'Tis this that feeds his Insolence, theis are theyThat, when they should have paid their prairs for himAs for a guilty man, adoarnd his houseIn the dispight of us and of our Justice.
Bred. But such shall find their flattering breath but makes The fire, our Cuntries safetie byds us cherish, To burne with greater heate.
Vand. And so consume him.
Or. The freedom of our goverment, and our honours,And what we dare doe now lies at the stake.The better part of all the christian worldMarks our proceedings, and it wilbe said,Yf having the Conspirators in our powreWe sentence none of them, being convincd, too,Of fowre and thirtie Articles and each treason,'Tis don for feare. Then, to affright the rest,I hold it fitt thatBarnavelt, one that hasMost frends and meanes to hurt, and will fall thereforeWith greater terror, should receive his Sentence,Then dye as he deserves. ForModesbargenAndHogerbeetswe shall find fitt time toThinck of them hereafter.
Bred. Let him be sent for.
Vand. In the meane time 'tis fit we should give hearing To theFrenchEmbassadors, who, I know, come now To mediat for him.
Bred. Wayt upon them in: Their Propositions shalbe answeard freely, And by such men as are their frends, not Servants.
Enter Boisise, Morier, Wife, Daughter, Attendants.
Boi[202]. We will plead for him and prevaile, we doubt not.Take comfort therefore, Madam, and a while,Since you are not to be admitted here,Leave us to our endeavors.
Wife. Heaven direct And prosper theis your charitable traviles.
[Exeunt Wife & Daughter.
Or. Bring Chaires there for their Lordships.
[2 Chaires.
Vand.[203] And prepare them A sylent hearing.
Bois. My good Lords,We are commaunded by the King our Master(Who ever hath respected your affairesAs the tranquility of his owne kingdoms)To let you thus far understand his pleasure:He do's exhort you, as the best foundationOf your estate, with all care to preserveThe union of your provinces, and wishesThe change that you have made of Maiestrates,The Advocate and Counsellors of StateIn many of your Townes, breed not dissentionsIn steed of ceasing them. Touching your PrisonersThat stand accusd of detestable Crymes,His Counsaile is, if they be culpable,That you use speedy Justice and with rigour.
Mor. Ever remembring that the greatest PrincesHave sometimes to their glory byn most aptTo pardon what was enterprizd againstTheir Goverments, nay their lives; and that the freestAnd the best Common-Wealthes, have alwaies usdTo spare the blood of their owne Cittizens,And that in great offenders—it still beingThe principall signe of libertie and freedomNot easily, but with mature advice,To touch the lives of Cittizens.
Bois. And the ratherWhen question is made of such as areYour officers placed in authoritie,Of whom the ancientst MounsieurBarnavelt,So much commended for so many goodAnd notable services don for theis Cuntries,Deserves most serious regard. My MasterAnd other Kings & Princes your allyes,Lyving yet witnesses of his great merittsAnd with such admiration that they canBe hardly brought to thinck he should conspireAgainst these States, for which yourselves best knowWhat travayles he hath undergon; and thereforeOnce more he do's advice you to use mercy,Which if you doe, he then shall thinck you meritThe many favours you have tasted from him:Yf not, he having given you whollsom Counsaile,Yf you refuce it he must thinck himselfSlighted in his requests; and then, perhaps,Hereafter you may misse that promptnes in himWhich you have found when your wants most requird it.
Vand. May it please your Highnes in the names of all To make their Lordships answeare.
Or. Willingly;For I must still be glad to take occasionTo speak how much your Lordships and myselfEver stand bound to that most Christian KingWhose favours, with all thancks, we must acknowledgeAs with all care preserve. Onely we hopeHis Maiestie will give us leave to sayWe greive that he is misinformd of usAnd our proceedings, of which we hereafterWill give him certaine and unanswerable proofesTo iustefie our Actions, which we willMake knowne to all the world; till when we wishHe will be pleasd to give way to the StatesTo finish what they have begon, with JusticeTemperd with mercy; and that your good LordshipsWill give his Grace to understand thus much,If with the generall voice you doe approve it.
Bred. We will confirme it with our generall Seale, And send our answeare to his Propositions With our respect and duties.
Mor. This we shall Make knowne unto him.
Or. Roome there for their Lordships.
[Ext. Embs.
Bred. What thinck you now, my Lords?
Vand. In my opinion 'Tis time he had his Sentence!
Wm. Is it drawne?
Vand. Yes, here it is. The peoples loves grow daungerous;In every place the whispers of his rescue;The lowd and common voice of his deservingsIs floong abroad. Nor doe they handle theis thingsBy rules of truth and reason, but their owne wills—Their headstrong hott affections.
Bred. Is he sent for?
Or. Yes and will presently be here.
Bred. Sit downe then, And now with speedy Justice let's prepare To cutt off this Imposthume.
Enter Provost & Guard, with Barnavelt.
Vand. 'Tis high time, Sir.
Prov. Roome for the Prisoner!
Vand. Bring him in; Sit downe, Sir, And take your last place with us.
Bar. 'Tis your forme And I infringe no order.
Bred. MounseiurBarnavelt,Will ye confes yet freely your bad practisesAnd lay those Instruments open to the World,Those bloody and bold Instruments you wrought by?Mercy may sleepe awhile but never dyes, Sir.
Bar. I have spoake all I can, and seald that all With all I have to care for now, my Conscience. More I beseech your honours—
Or. Take your pleasure.
Vand. You will give us no more lights: What this world gives you, To morrow thus we take away. Receive it.
Bar. My Sentence?
Vand. Yes; consider for your soule now, And so farewell.
Bar. I humbly thanck your honours: I shall not play my last Act worst.
Bred. Heavens mercy And a still conscience wayt upon your end, Sir.
Or. Now guard him back againe: by the break of day You shall have order from us.
Prov. Roome for the Prisoner!—
[Ext. Provost and Guard, with Barnavelt.
Or. The world shall know that what's iust we dare doe.
Vand. Nor shall the desperate act ofLeidenberchDelude what we determind. Let his CoffinBe therefore hangd up on the publique Gallowes.Th'Executioners like hungry vulturesHave smelld out their imployment.
Or. Let them have it:And all that plot against the generall goodLearne from this mans example, great in age,Greater in wealth and in authoritie,But matchles in his worldly pollicie,That there is one above that do's derideThe wisest counsailes that are misaplide.
[Exeunt.
Enter Harlem, Leyden & Utrecht Executioners.
Har. Now hard and sharpe, for a wager, who shall doe it. Here's a Sword would doe a man's head good to be cut of with it; cures all rhumes, all Catharres, megroomes, verteegoes: presto, be gone!
Ley. You must not carry it,Harlem: you are a pretty fellow and lop the lyne of life well, but weake toBaltazar. Give roome forLeyden: heer's an old Cutter, heer's one has polld more pates and neater then a dicker[204], of your Barbers; they nere need washing after. Do's not thy neck itch now to be scratchd a little with this?
Har. No, in truth do's it not; but if you'll try first, yf I doe not whip your dodipoll as clenly of and set it on againe as handsomely as it stands now, that you may blow your nose and pledge me too Cans after—
Ley. I was afraid The rogue had don't indeed.
Utr. You two imagine nowYou are excellent workmen and that you can doe wonders,AndUtrechtbut an Asse. Let's feele your Raizors:Handsawes, meere handsawes! Do you put your knees to'em too,And take mens necks for timber? You cutt a feather?Cut butter when your tooles are hot! Looke here, puppies;Heer's the sword that cutt ofPompeishead.
Har. The head of a Pumpion.[205]
Utr. Looke on't but come not neere it: the very wind on'tWill borrow a leg or an arme. Heers touch & take, boyes!And this shall moaw the head of MounsieurBarnavelt.Man is but grasse and hay: I have him hereAnd here I have him. I would undertake with this SwordTo cutt the devills head of, hornes and all,And give it to a Burger for his breakfast.
Ley. We know you have byn the headman of the parishA great while,Utricht, and ministerd much Justice,Nickt many a worthie gamester; and that you,Harlem,Have shortend many a hanging cause, to your Commendation:Yet, for all this, who shall trym MonsieurBarnaveltMust run by fortune. You are proper men both;But why before me that have studdied the true trick on'tTheis twenty yeeres, and run through all the theorems?
Har. Let's fling for't then.
Ley. I am content.
Utr. And I.
Har. Sit round, then: here are dyce, and ile begin to ye.Have at your head, SirJohn! dewce ace[206]; a doggs-head![207]The devill turnd this ace up. Farwell, velvet gowne!Thou hast mist the luckiest hand to scratch thy Coxcomb.
Ley. No, no, Sir. Now for my part. Heigh! fight aloft for the head, boyes. How? Cater-trey[208]?
Utr. Will you take a sleeve for your share, Sir?
Ley. 'Tis but a desperat cast, and so hee'l find it, If it fall to me. Cast for your game.
Utr. Have at it:Stay, let me swing my Sword thrice round first: now,Now the Graves head … goose giblitts.—Two sixes, boyes! I knew I should performe it.
Har. Ye have it: thanck your fortune.
Utr. I could not misse it,I never lost so faire a stake yet. How ile doe itAnd in what posture: first, how ile take my leave of him,With a few teares to draw more money from him;Then fold up his braunchd[209] gowne, his hat, his doblet,And like the devill cry 'mine owne! lye there, boyes!'Then bind his eyes; last stir myself up bravelyAnd, in the midle of a whollsome praire,Whip and—hic iacet Barnavelt.—Come, let's sing our old Song,And then come view me how I doe my busines.Boy, come, sing you for me.
[Song. Exeunt.
Enter 2 Captaines[210] & their Soldiers, severally.
1Cap. Here stand we fast.
2Cap. Cock all your Musketts, Soldiers, now, And gentlemen be ready to bend your pikes; The prisoner's comming out.
1Cap. But doe you thinck They meane to take his head of, or to fright him?
2Cap. Heaven keep me from such frights. Why are theis Guards Commaunded to make good the Execution, If they intend not death?
1Cap. But dare they doe it?
2Cap. What dare not Justice do that's right and honest?Is he not proov'd a guilty man? What bugsShould publick safety be afraid to looke on?Do you hold the UnitedStatesso tame to feare him,—Feare him a Traitor, too?
1Cap. You know hee's much lov'd, And every where they stir in his Compassion.
2Cap. They'll stir so long till some of 'em will sinck for't, Some of the best I feare that glewd his faction; Their building lyes discoverd and their bases broken.
1Cap. There is much money laid in every place, too, Hundreds and thousands, that they dare not strike him.
2Cap. Give loosers leave to play the fooles; 'tis lost all.Secure yourself he dyes; nor is it wisdomTo go an ace lesse with him: he is monstrous.—The people hurry now; stand fast, he is comming.
Enter Provost, Soldiers & Executioners, with a Coffin & a Gibbett.
Pro. Make roome before! cleere all theis gaping people And stop their passage.
1Cap. How now? What wonder's this?
Prov. Stay! or ile make ye stay: I charge ye stir not.
2Cap. What thinck you now? dare not theis men do Justice? This is the body ofLeidenberg, that killd himself To free his Cause: his shame has found him yet.
Prov. Up with him, come: set all your hands & heave him!
Exec. A plaguy, heavy Lubber! Sure this fellowHas a bushell of plot in's belly, he weighes so massy.Heigh! now againe! he stincks like a hung poll cat.This rotten treason has a vengeance savour;This venison wants pepper and salt abhominably.
Prov. Pyn him aloft, and pin him sure.
Exec. I warrant ye; If ere he run away againe ile swing for him. This would make a rare signe for a Cookes shop, The Christmas pie. [Exeunt Executioners.
Prov. Come; now about the rest.—Keepe the Court cleere still.
[Exeunt Provost and Soldiers.
2Cap. What thinck you now?
1Cap. Now I am afraid of him. This prologue should portend a fatall Tragedie: Theis examples will make 'em shake.
2Cap. 'Tis well they have 'em;Their stubbornenes and pride requires 'em greater.The Prince strikes iust ith' nick and strikes home nobely:This new pretending faction had fird all els;They had floong a generall ruyn on the Cuntry.
Enter Boyes & Burgers.
1Boy. He comes, he comes, he comes! ô for a place now!
2Boy. Let's climb the Battlements.
Cap. Away with theis rogues.
1Burg. I saw the Guard goe for him: Where shall we be now?
2Burg. He will make a notable Speech, I warrant him.
3Burg. Let's get us neere the Skaffold.
1Cap. Keep of, Turnops: Ye come upon our Pikes els.
1Burg. Pox o' theis Soldiers? We cannot see our frends hangd in quiet for 'em. Come, come, to th' top oth' hall.
[Exeunt Boys & Burgers.]
2Cap. Away, good pilchers![211] Now blow your matches and stand fast: he comes here.
1Cap. And now bend all your pikes.
Enter Provost, Barnavelt, Lords, Guard.(A Scaffold put out) Executioner.
Prov. Cleere all the Skaffold; Let no more into th'Court; we are choakd with people.
Bar. You are curteous in your preparations, gentlemen,
1Lord. You must ascend, Sir.
Bar. Feareles I will, my lords,And, what you can inflict, as feareles suffer.Thus high you raise me, a most glorious kindnesFor all my Cares! For my most faithfull serviceFor you and for the State thus ye promote me!I thanck ye, Cuntrymen, most nobely thanck ye.—Pull of my Gowne. Of what place are ye, frend?
Exec. OfUtrich, Sir.
Bar. OfUtrich! Wherefore, prethee, Art thou appointed here?
Exec. To tell you true, Sir, I won this place at dyce: we were three appointed.
Bar. Am I becom a generall game? a Rest[212]For every Slave to pull at? Thanck ye still:You are growne the noblest in your favours, gentlemen.—What's that hangs there? what Coffin?
Lord. How it stirrs him.
2Lord. The body, Sir, ofLeidenberch[213] the Traitour.
Bar. The traitour?
2Lord. I, the Traitour, the fowle Traitour, Who, though he killd himself to cleere his cause, Justice has found him out and so proclaimd him.
Bar. Have mercy on his soule! I dare behold him.
1Lord. Beleeve me, he's much moved.
2Lord. He has much reason.
Bar. Are theis the holly praires ye prepare for me—The comforts to a parting soule? Still I thanck ye,Most hartely and lovingly I thanck ye.Will not a single death give satisfaction,O you most greedy men and most ungratefull,—The quiet sleep of him you gape to swallow,But you must trym up death in all his terrorsAnd add to soules departing frights and feavors?Hang up a hundred Coffins; I dare view 'em,And on their heads subscribe a hundred treasonsIt shakes not me, thus dare I smile upon 'emAnd strongly thus outlooke your fellest Justice.
2Lord. Will ye bethinck ye, Sir, of what ye come for.
Bar. I come to dye: bethinck you of your JusticeAnd with what Sword ye strike, the edge of mallice.Bethinck ye of the travells I had for ye,The throaes and grones to bring faire peace amongst ye;Bethinck ye of the dangers I have plundgd throughAnd almost gripes of death, to make you glorious.Thinck when the Cuntry, like a Wildernes,Brought nothing forth but desolation,Fire, Sword and Famine; when the earth sweatt under yeCold dewes of blood, andSpanishflames hoong ore ye,And every man stood markt the child of murderAnd women wanted wombes to feed theis cruelties;—Thinck then who stept in to you, gently tooke yeAnd bound your bleeding wounds up; from your facesWipd of the sweatts of sorrow, fed and nurssd ye;Who brought the plowgh againe to crowne your plenty;Your goodly meadowes who protected (Cuntrymen)From the armd Soldiers furious marches; whoUnbard the Havens that the floating MerchantMight clap his lynnen wings up to the windesAnd back the raging waves to bring you proffit.Thinck through whose care you are a NationAnd have a name yet left,—a fruitfull Nation(Would I could say as thanckfull)—bethinck ye of theis thingsAnd then turne back and blush, blush [for] my ruyne.
1Lord. 'Tis strange how this [man b]rags; 'tis a strange impudenceNot to be pittied in his [case], not sufferd.You breed the peace, you bring the plowgh againe?You wipe the fire and blood of from this Cuntry,And you restore hir to hir former Beuty?Blush in thine age, bad man; thy grave blush for theeAnd scorne to hide that man that holds no Creadit.Beare witnes all the world that knowes our TroblesOr ever greiv'd our plagues, what we have sufferdAnd, under Heaven, by what armes we have cur'd theis,—Councells and frends; in which I tell thee (Barnavelt),And through thy Impudence I here proclaime it,Thou hadst the least and last share. 'Tis not your face, Sir,The greatnes of your friends, corruptly purchast,The Crying up of your manie Services,Which lookd into wither away like Mushrumps,Shall scandall us.
2Lord. YourRomaineend, to make menImagine your strong conscience fortifide,No, nor your ground Religion. Examine all menBranded with such fowle syns as you now dye for,And you shall find their first stepp still Religion.GowrieinScotland, 'twas his maine pretention:Was not he honest, too? his Cuntries father?Those fyery Speritts next that hatchd inEnglandThat bloody Powder-Plot, and thought like meteorsTo have flashd their Cuntryes peace out in a Moment:Were not their Barrells loden with Religion?Were not they pious, iust and zealous Subiects?Humble your soule for shame, and seeke not now, Sir,To tumble from that happines even AngellsWere throwne from for their pride. Confes, and dye well.
1Lord. Will ye confes your faultes?
Bar. I come not heather To make myself guilty; yet one fault I must utter, And 'tis a great one.
2Lord. The greater mercy.
Bar. I dye for saving this unthanckfull Cuntry.
1Lord. Play not with heaven.
Bar. My Game's as sure as yours is,And with more care and inocence I play it.Take of my doblet; and I prethee, fellow,Strike without feare.
Exec. I warrant ile fitt ye. I pray forgive me, Sir.
Bar. Most hartely,And heer's my hand. I love thee, too: thy physickWill quickly purge me from the worldes abuses.When I speak lowdest, strike.
Exec. I shall observe ye.
Bar. Farwell, my lords: to all your Counsailes fortune,Happie succes and proffit; peace to this Cuntry;And to you all, that I have bredd like children,Not a more faithfull father but more fortunate.Doe not I stay too long?
2Lord. Take your owne time, Sir.
Bar. I have a wiffe, my lords, and wretched children,Unles it please his Grace to looke upon 'emAnd your good honours with your eies of favour.'Twill be a litle happines in my deathThat they partake not with their fathers ruyns.
1Lord. Let not that troble ye: they shall not find it.
Bar. Commend my last breath to his Excellence;Tell him the Sun he shot at is now setting,Setting this night, that he may rise to morrow,For ever setting. Now let him raigne aloneAnd with his rayes give life and light to all men.May he protect with honour, fight with fortune,And dye with generall love, an old and good Prince.My last petition, good Cuntrymen, forget me:Your memories wound deeper then your mallice,And I forgive ye all.—A litle stay me.—Honour and world I fling ye thus behind me,And thus a naked poore man kneele to heaven:Be gracious to me, heare me, strengthen me.I come, I come, ô gracious heaven! now, now,Now, I present—
Exec. Is it well don mine Heeres?
1Lord. Somewhat too much; you have strooke his fingers, too, But we forgive your haste. Draw in the body; And Captaines, we discharge your Companies.
Vand. Make cleere the Court.—Vaine glory, thou art gon! And thus must all build on Ambition.
2Lord. Farwell, great hart; full low thy strength now lyes: He that would purge ambition this way dies.
Exeunt.