Lo, here the end that fortune sends at lastTo him, whom first she heav’d to highest hap!The flattering look, wherewith he long was led;The smiling fates, that oft had fed his fame,The many wars and conquests which he gain’d,Are dash’d at once: one day infers that foil,Whereof so many years of yore were free.
Lo, here the end that fortune sends at last
To him, whom first she heav’d to highest hap!
The flattering look, wherewith he long was led;
The smiling fates, that oft had fed his fame,
The many wars and conquests which he gain’d,
Are dash’d at once: one day infers that foil,
Whereof so many years of yore were free.
2.
O willing world to magnify man’s state!O most unwilling to maintain the same!Of all misfortunes and unhappy fatesTh’ unhappiest seems to have been happy once.[282]’Twas Arthur sole, that never found his joysDisturb’d with woe, nor woes reliev’d with joy.In prosperous state all heavenly pow’rs aspir’d;Now, made a wretch, not one that spares his spoil!
O willing world to magnify man’s state!
O most unwilling to maintain the same!
Of all misfortunes and unhappy fates
Th’ unhappiest seems to have been happy once.[282]
’Twas Arthur sole, that never found his joys
Disturb’d with woe, nor woes reliev’d with joy.
In prosperous state all heavenly pow’rs aspir’d;
Now, made a wretch, not one that spares his spoil!
3.
Yea, fortune’s self in this afflicted caseExacts a pain for long-continued pomp.She urgeth now the bliss of wonted weal,And bears him down with weight of former fame.His praises past be present shame. Ofickle trust,Whiles fortune chops and changeth every chance,What certain bliss can we enjoy alive,Unless, whiles yet our bliss endures, we die?
Yea, fortune’s self in this afflicted case
Exacts a pain for long-continued pomp.
She urgeth now the bliss of wonted weal,
And bears him down with weight of former fame.
His praises past be present shame. Ofickle trust,
Whiles fortune chops and changeth every chance,
What certain bliss can we enjoy alive,
Unless, whiles yet our bliss endures, we die?
4.
Yea, since before his last and utmost gasp,None can be deem’d a happy man or bless’d,Who dares commit himself to prosperous fates,Whose death prepar’d attends not hard at hand:That sithence death must once determine all,His life may sooner fly, than fortune flit.
Yea, since before his last and utmost gasp,
None can be deem’d a happy man or bless’d,
Who dares commit himself to prosperous fates,
Whose death prepar’d attends not hard at hand:
That sithence death must once determine all,
His life may sooner fly, than fortune flit.
THE SECOND SCENE.
Gorlois.
Gorlois.Now, Gorlois, ’suage thyself. Pride hath his pay,Murther his price, adult’ry his desert,Treason his meed, disloyalty his doom,Wrong hath his wreak, and guilt his guerdon bears!Not one abuse erst offered by thy foes,But, since most sternly punish’d, is now purg’d.Where thou didst fall, ev’n on the self-same soil,Pendragon, Arthur, Mordred, and their stockFound all their foils: not one hath ’scaped revenge;Their line from first to last quite razed out!Now rest content, and work no further plagues:Let future age be free from Gorlois’ ghost:Let Britain henceforth bathe in endless weal.Let Virgo come from heaven, the glorious star,The Zodiac’s joy, the planets’ chief delight,The hope of all the year, the ease of skies,The air’s relief, the comfort of the earth!That virtuous Virgo, born for Britain’s bliss;That peerless branch of Brute; that sweet remainOf Priam’s state; that hope of springing Troy,Which, time to come and many ages hence,Shall of all wars compound eternal peace.Let her reduce the golden age again,Religion, ease, and wealth of former world.Yea, let that Virgo come, and Saturn’s reign,[283]And years, oft ten times told, expir’d in peace.A rule that else no realm shall ever find,A rule most rare, unheard, unseen, unread;The sole example that the world affords.That (Britain), that renowm, yea, that is thine.B’ it so: my wrath is wrought. Ye furies blackAnd ugly shapes, that howl in holes beneath:Thou Orcus dark, and deep Avernus nook,With duskish dens out-gnawn in gulfs below,Receive your ghastly charge, Duke Gorlois’ ghost!Make room! I gladly, thus reveng’d, return!And though your pain surpass, I greet them tho!He hates each other heaven, that haunteth hell.[Descendit.
Gorlois.Now, Gorlois, ’suage thyself. Pride hath his pay,
Murther his price, adult’ry his desert,
Treason his meed, disloyalty his doom,
Wrong hath his wreak, and guilt his guerdon bears!
Not one abuse erst offered by thy foes,
But, since most sternly punish’d, is now purg’d.
Where thou didst fall, ev’n on the self-same soil,
Pendragon, Arthur, Mordred, and their stock
Found all their foils: not one hath ’scaped revenge;
Their line from first to last quite razed out!
Now rest content, and work no further plagues:
Let future age be free from Gorlois’ ghost:
Let Britain henceforth bathe in endless weal.
Let Virgo come from heaven, the glorious star,
The Zodiac’s joy, the planets’ chief delight,
The hope of all the year, the ease of skies,
The air’s relief, the comfort of the earth!
That virtuous Virgo, born for Britain’s bliss;
That peerless branch of Brute; that sweet remain
Of Priam’s state; that hope of springing Troy,
Which, time to come and many ages hence,
Shall of all wars compound eternal peace.
Let her reduce the golden age again,
Religion, ease, and wealth of former world.
Yea, let that Virgo come, and Saturn’s reign,[283]
And years, oft ten times told, expir’d in peace.
A rule that else no realm shall ever find,
A rule most rare, unheard, unseen, unread;
The sole example that the world affords.
That (Britain), that renowm, yea, that is thine.
B’ it so: my wrath is wrought. Ye furies black
And ugly shapes, that howl in holes beneath:
Thou Orcus dark, and deep Avernus nook,
With duskish dens out-gnawn in gulfs below,
Receive your ghastly charge, Duke Gorlois’ ghost!
Make room! I gladly, thus reveng’d, return!
And though your pain surpass, I greet them tho!
He hates each other heaven, that haunteth hell.
[Descendit.
EPILOGUS.
See here by this the tickle trust of time:The false affiance of each mortal force;The wavering weight of fates: the fickle trace,That fortune trips; the many mocks of life;The cheerless change, the easeless brunts and broils,That man abides, the restless race he runs.But most of all, see here the peerless pains:The lasting pangs, the stintless griefs, the tears:The sighs, the groans, the fears, the hopes, the hates:The thoughts and cares, that kingly pomp imparts.What follies, then, bewitch th’ ambitious minds,That thirst for sceptre’s pomp, the well of woes!Whereof (alas!) should wretched man be proud,Whose first conception is but sin, whose birthBut pain, whose life but toil, and needs must die?See here the store of great Pendragon’s brood,The t’one quite dead, the t’other hastening on;As men, the son but green, the sire but ripe,Yet both forestall’d, ere half their race were run!As kings, the mightiest monarchs of this age,Yet both suppressed and vanquished by themselves.Such is the brittle breath of mortal man,Whiles human nature works her daily wracks:Such be the crazed crests of glorious crowns,Whiles worldly powers like sudden puffs do pass.And yet for one that goes, another comes;Some born, some dead: so still the store endures.So that both fates and common care provide,That men must needs be born, and some must rule.Wherefore, ye peers and lordings, lift aloft,And whosoe’er in thrones that judge your thralls,Let not your sovereignty heave you too high,Nor their subjection press them down too low.It is not pride that can augment your power,Nor lowly looks that long can keep them safe.The fates have found a way whereby, ere long,The proud must leave their hope, the meek their fear.Whoe’er received such favour from above,That could assure one day unto himself?Him whom the morning found both stout and strong,The evening left all grovelling on the ground.This breath and heat, wherewith man’s life is fed,Is but a flash or flame, that shines a while,And once extinct is, as it ne’er had been.Corruption hourly frets the body’s frame;Youth tends to age, and age to death by kind.Short is the race, prefixed is the end;Swift is the time, wherein man’s life doth run:But by his deeds t’extend renowm and fame,That only virtue works, which never fades.
See here by this the tickle trust of time:
The false affiance of each mortal force;
The wavering weight of fates: the fickle trace,
That fortune trips; the many mocks of life;
The cheerless change, the easeless brunts and broils,
That man abides, the restless race he runs.
But most of all, see here the peerless pains:
The lasting pangs, the stintless griefs, the tears:
The sighs, the groans, the fears, the hopes, the hates:
The thoughts and cares, that kingly pomp imparts.
What follies, then, bewitch th’ ambitious minds,
That thirst for sceptre’s pomp, the well of woes!
Whereof (alas!) should wretched man be proud,
Whose first conception is but sin, whose birth
But pain, whose life but toil, and needs must die?
See here the store of great Pendragon’s brood,
The t’one quite dead, the t’other hastening on;
As men, the son but green, the sire but ripe,
Yet both forestall’d, ere half their race were run!
As kings, the mightiest monarchs of this age,
Yet both suppressed and vanquished by themselves.
Such is the brittle breath of mortal man,
Whiles human nature works her daily wracks:
Such be the crazed crests of glorious crowns,
Whiles worldly powers like sudden puffs do pass.
And yet for one that goes, another comes;
Some born, some dead: so still the store endures.
So that both fates and common care provide,
That men must needs be born, and some must rule.
Wherefore, ye peers and lordings, lift aloft,
And whosoe’er in thrones that judge your thralls,
Let not your sovereignty heave you too high,
Nor their subjection press them down too low.
It is not pride that can augment your power,
Nor lowly looks that long can keep them safe.
The fates have found a way whereby, ere long,
The proud must leave their hope, the meek their fear.
Whoe’er received such favour from above,
That could assure one day unto himself?
Him whom the morning found both stout and strong,
The evening left all grovelling on the ground.
This breath and heat, wherewith man’s life is fed,
Is but a flash or flame, that shines a while,
And once extinct is, as it ne’er had been.
Corruption hourly frets the body’s frame;
Youth tends to age, and age to death by kind.
Short is the race, prefixed is the end;
Swift is the time, wherein man’s life doth run:
But by his deeds t’extend renowm and fame,
That only virtue works, which never fades.
FINIS.
Thomas Hughes.
Sat citò, si sat benè: utcunque,Quoad non dat spes, dat optio.
Hereafter follow suchspeeches as were penned by others, and pronouncedinstead of some of the former speechespenned by Thomas Hughes.
A speech penned by WilliamFulbecke, gentleman, one of the society of Gray’sInn, and pronounced instead of Gorloishis first speech penned by ThomasHughes, and set down in the first Sceneof the first Act.
Alecto, thou that hast excluded meFrom fields Elysian, where the guiltless soulsAvoid the scourge of Rhadamanthus ire,Let it be lawful (sith I am removedFrom blessed islands to this cursed shore,This loathed earth, where Arthur’s table stands,With ordure foul of Harpies’ fierce distained)The fates and hidden secrets to discloseOf black Cocytus and of Acheron,The floods of death, the lakes of burning souls,Where hellish frogs do prophesy revenge;Where Tartar sprites with careful heed attendThe dismal summons of Alecto’s mouth.Myself by precept of ProserpinaCommanded was in presence to appearBefore the synod of the damned sprites.In fearful mood I did perform their hest,And, at my entrance in, th’ enchanted snakes,Which wrap themselves about the furies’ necks,Did hiss for joy: and from the dreadful bench[284]The supreme fury thus assign’d her charge.Gorlois, quoth she, thou thither must ascend,Whence, through the rancour of malicious foes,Wearied with wounds thou didst descend to us.Make Britain now the mark of thy revenge:On ruthless Britons and Pendragon’s raceDisburse the treasure of thy hellish plagues.Let blood contend with blood, father with son,Subject with prince, and let confusion reign.She therewithal enjoin’d the dusky clouds,Which with their darkness turn’d the earth to hell,Convert to blood, and pour down streams of blood.Cornwall shall groan, and Arthur’s soul shall sigh:Before the conscience of GueneveraThe map of hell shall hang, and fiends shall rage;And Gorlois’ ghost exacting punishmentWith dreams, with horrors, and with deadly trance,Shall gripe their hearts: the vision of his corseShall be to them, as was the terror vileOf flaming whips to Agamemnon’s son.And when the trumpet calls them from their rest,Aurora shall with wat’ry cheeks beholdTheir slaughtered bodies prostrate to her beams:And on the banks of Camela shall lieThe bones of Arthur and of Arthur’s knights,Whose fleet is now triumphing on the seas,But shall be welcom’d with a tragedy.Thy native soil shall be thy fatal gulf,Arthur: thy place of birth thy place of death.Mordred shall be the hammer of my hateTo beat the bones of Cornish lords to dust.Ye ravening birds under Celœno’s power,I do adjure you, in Alecto’s name,Follow the sword of Mordred where he goes;Follow the sword of Mordred for your food.Aspiring Mordred, thou must also die,And on the altar of ProserpinaThy vital blood unto my ghost shall fume.Heaven, earth, and hell concur to plague the man,That is the plague of heaven, earth, and hell!Thou bidd’st, Alecto: I pursue my charge.Let thy Cerastæ whistle in mine ears,And let the bells of Pluto ring revenge!
Alecto, thou that hast excluded me
From fields Elysian, where the guiltless souls
Avoid the scourge of Rhadamanthus ire,
Let it be lawful (sith I am removed
From blessed islands to this cursed shore,
This loathed earth, where Arthur’s table stands,
With ordure foul of Harpies’ fierce distained)
The fates and hidden secrets to disclose
Of black Cocytus and of Acheron,
The floods of death, the lakes of burning souls,
Where hellish frogs do prophesy revenge;
Where Tartar sprites with careful heed attend
The dismal summons of Alecto’s mouth.
Myself by precept of Proserpina
Commanded was in presence to appear
Before the synod of the damned sprites.
In fearful mood I did perform their hest,
And, at my entrance in, th’ enchanted snakes,
Which wrap themselves about the furies’ necks,
Did hiss for joy: and from the dreadful bench[284]
The supreme fury thus assign’d her charge.
Gorlois, quoth she, thou thither must ascend,
Whence, through the rancour of malicious foes,
Wearied with wounds thou didst descend to us.
Make Britain now the mark of thy revenge:
On ruthless Britons and Pendragon’s race
Disburse the treasure of thy hellish plagues.
Let blood contend with blood, father with son,
Subject with prince, and let confusion reign.
She therewithal enjoin’d the dusky clouds,
Which with their darkness turn’d the earth to hell,
Convert to blood, and pour down streams of blood.
Cornwall shall groan, and Arthur’s soul shall sigh:
Before the conscience of Guenevera
The map of hell shall hang, and fiends shall rage;
And Gorlois’ ghost exacting punishment
With dreams, with horrors, and with deadly trance,
Shall gripe their hearts: the vision of his corse
Shall be to them, as was the terror vile
Of flaming whips to Agamemnon’s son.
And when the trumpet calls them from their rest,
Aurora shall with wat’ry cheeks behold
Their slaughtered bodies prostrate to her beams:
And on the banks of Camela shall lie
The bones of Arthur and of Arthur’s knights,
Whose fleet is now triumphing on the seas,
But shall be welcom’d with a tragedy.
Thy native soil shall be thy fatal gulf,
Arthur: thy place of birth thy place of death.
Mordred shall be the hammer of my hate
To beat the bones of Cornish lords to dust.
Ye ravening birds under Celœno’s power,
I do adjure you, in Alecto’s name,
Follow the sword of Mordred where he goes;
Follow the sword of Mordred for your food.
Aspiring Mordred, thou must also die,
And on the altar of Proserpina
Thy vital blood unto my ghost shall fume.
Heaven, earth, and hell concur to plague the man,
That is the plague of heaven, earth, and hell!
Thou bidd’st, Alecto: I pursue my charge.
Let thy Cerastæ whistle in mine ears,
And let the bells of Pluto ring revenge!
One other speech pennedby the same gentleman, and pronounced insteadof Gorlois his last speech penned by ThomasHughes, and set down in the secondScene of the fifth and last Act.