Roberto,king of Sicily.Ferdinand,duke of Urbin.Bertoldo,the king's natural brother, a knight of Malta.Gonzaga,a knight of Malta, general to the duchess of Sienna.Astutio,a counsellor of state.Fulgentio,the minion ofRoberto.Adorni,a follower ofCamiola'sfather.Signior Sylli,a foolish self-lover.Antonio,Gasparo,}two rich heirs, city-bred.Pierio,a colonel toGonzaga.Roderigo,Jacomo,}captains toGonzaga.Druso,Livio,}captains to dukeFerdinand.FatherPaulo,a priest,Camiola's confessor.Ambassador from the duke of Urbin.A Bishop.A Page.Aurelia,duchess of Sienna.Camiola,the Maid of Honour.Clarinda,her woman.Scout, Soldiers, Gaoler, Attendants, Servants, &c.
SCENE, partly in Sicily, and partly in the Siennese.
THE MAID OF HONOUR.
Palermo. A State-room in the Palace.
EnterAstutioandAdorni.
Ador.Good day to your lordship.
Ast.Thanks, Adorni.
Ador.May I presume to ask if the ambassadorEmploy'd by Ferdinand, the duke of Urbin,Hath audience this morning?
EnterFulgentio.
Ast.'Tis uncertain;For, though a counsellor of state, I am notOf the cabinet council: but there's one, if he please,That may resolve you.
Ador.I will move him.—Sir!
Ful.If you've a suit, show water[133], I am blind else.
Ador.A suit; yet of a nature not to proveThe quarry[134]that you hawk for: if your wordsAre not like Indian wares, and every scrupleTo be weigh'd and rated, one poor syllable,Vouchsafed in answer of a fair demand,Cannot deserve a fee.
Ful.It seems you are ignorant,I neither speak nor hold my peace for nothing;And yet, for once, I care not if I answerOne single question, gratis.
Ador.I much thank you.Hath the ambassador audience, sir, to-day?
Ful.Yes.
Ador.At what hour?
Ful.I promised not so much.A syllable you begg'd, my charity gave it;Move me no further.[Exit.
Ast.This you wonder at:With me, 'tis usual.
Ador.Pray you, sir, what is he?
Ast.No gentleman, yet a lord. He hath some dropsOf the king's blood running in his veins, derivedSome ten degrees off. His revenue liesIn a narrow compass, the king's ear; and yields himEvery hour a fruitful harvest. Men may talkOf three crops in a year in the Fortunate Islands,Or profit made by wool; but, while there are suitors,His sheepshearing, nay, shaving to the quick,Is in every quarter of the moon, and constant.In the time of trussing a point,[135]he can undo,Or make a man: his play or recreation,Is to raise this up, or pull down that; and, thoughHe never yet took orders, makes more bishopsIn Sicily, than the pope himself.
EnterBertoldo, Gasparo, Antonio,and a Servant.
Ador.Most strange!
Ast.The presence fills. He in the Malta habit[136]Is the king's natural brother.
Ador.I understand you.
Bert.With this jewelPresented to Camiola, prepare,This night, a visit for me. [Exit Servant.] I shall haveYour company, gallants, I perceive, if thatThe king will hear of war.
Ant.You are, sir,A knight of Malta, and, as I have heard,Have served against the Turk.
Bert.'Tis true.
Ant.Pray you, show usThe difference between the city valour,And service in the field.
Bert.'Tis somewhat moreThan roaring in a tavern or a brothel,Or to steal a constable[137]from a sleeping watch,Then burn their halberds; or, safe guarded byYour tenant's sons, to carry away a May-poleFrom a neighbour village. You will not find thereYour masters of dependencies[138]to take upA drunken brawl, or, to get you the namesOf valiant chevaliers, fellows that will be,For a cloak with thrice-dyed velvet, and a cast suit,Kick'd down the stairs. A knave with a provant sword[139],If you bear not yourself both in and upright,Will slash your scarlets and your plush a new way;Or, with the hilts, thunder about your earsSuch music as will make your worships danceTo the doleful tune ofLachrymæ[140].
Gasp.I must tell youIn private, as you are my princely friend,I do not like such fiddlers.
Bert.No! they are usefulFor your imitation; I remember you,When you came first to the court, and talk'd of nothingBut your rents and your entradas[141], ever chimingThe golden bells in your pockets; you believedThe taking of the wall as a tribute due toYour gaudy clothes; and could not walk at midnightWithout a causeless quarrel, as if menOf coarser outsides were in duty boundTo suffer your affronts: but, when you had beenCudgell'd well twice or thrice, and from the doctrineMade profitable uses, you concluded,The sovereign means to teach irregular heirsCivility, with conformity of manners,Were two or three sound beatings.
Ant.I confessThey did much good upon me.
Gasp.And on me:The principles that they read were sound.
Bert.You'll findThe like instructions in the camp.
Ast.The king!
A flourish. EnterRoberto, Fulgentio,Ambassador, and Attendants.
Rob.[ascends the throne.] We sit prepared to hear.
Amb.Your majestyHath been long since familiar, I doubt not,With the desperate fortunes of my lord; and pityOf the much that your confederate hath suffer'd,You being his last refuge, may persuade youNot alone to compassionate, but to lendYour royal aids to stay him in his fallTo certain ruin. He, too late, is consciousThat his ambition to encroach uponHis neighbour's territories, with the danger ofHis liberty, nay, his life, hath brought in questionHis own inheritance: but youth, and heatOf blood, in your interpretation, mayBoth plead and mediate for him. I must grant itAn error in him, being denied the favoursOf the fair princess of Sienna, (thoughHe sought her in a noble way,) to endeavourTo force affection by surprisal ofHer principal seat, Sienna.
Rob.Which now provesThe seat of his captivity, not triumph:Heaven is still just.
Amb.And yet that justice isTo be with mercy temper'd, which heaven's deputiesStand bound to minister. The injured duchess,By reason taught, as nature, could not, withThe reparation of her wrongs, but aim atA brave revenge; and my lord feels, too late,That innocence will find friends. The great Gonzaga,The honour of his order, (I must praiseVirtue, though in an enemy,) he whose fightsAnd conquests hold one number, rallying upHer scatter'd troops, before we could get timeTo victual or to man the conquer'd city,Sat down before it; and presuming that'Tis not to be relieved, admits no parley,Our flags of truce hung out in vain: nor will heLend an ear to composition, but exacts,With the rendering up the town, the goods and livesOf all within the walls, and of all sexes,To be at his discretion.
Rob.Since injusticeIn your duke meets this correction, can you press us,With any seeming argument of reason,In foolish pity to decline[142]his dangers,To draw them on ourself? Shall we not beWarn'd by his harms? The league proclaim'd between usBound neither of us further than to aidEach other, if by foreign force invaded;And so far in my honour I was tied.But since, without our counsel, or allowance,He hath ta'en arms; with his good leave, he mustExcuse us if we steer not on a rockWe see, and may avoid. Let other monarchsContend to be made glorious by proud war,And, with the blood of their poor subjects, purchaseIncrease of empire, and augment their caresIn keeping that which was by wrongs extorted,Gilding unjust invasions with the trimOf glorious conquests; we, that would be knownThe father of our people, in our studyAnd vigilance for their safety, must not changeTheir ploughshares into swords, and force them fromThe secure shade of their own vines, to beScorch'd with the flames of war; or, for our sport,Expose their lives to ruin.
Amb.Will you, then,In his extremity, forsake your friend?
Rob.No; but preserve ourself.
Bert.Cannot the beamsOf honour thaw your icy fears?
Rob.Who's that?
Bert.A kind of brother, sir, howe'er your subject;Your father's son, and one who blushes thatYou are not heir to his brave spirit and vigour,As to his kingdom.
Rob.How's this!
Bert.Sir, to beHis living chronicle, and to speak his praise,Cannot deserve your anger.
Rob.Where's your warrantFor this presumption?
Bert.Here, sir, in my heart:Let sycophants, that feed upon your favours,Style coldness in you caution, and preferYour ease before your honour; and conclude,To eat and sleep supinely is the endOf human blessings: I must tell you, sir,Virtue, if not in action, is a vice;And when we move not forward, we go backward[143]:Nor is this peace, the nurse of drones and cowards,Our health, but a disease.
Gasp.Well urged, my lord.
Ant.Perfect what is so well begun.
Amb.And bindMy lord your servant.
Rob.Hair-brain'd fool! what reasonCanst thou infer, to make this good?
Bert.A thousand,Not to be contradicted. But considerWhere your command lies: 'tis not, sir, in France,Spain, Germany, Portugal, but in Sicily;An island, sir. Here are no mines of goldOr silver to enrich you; no worm spinsSilk in her womb, to make distinctionBetween you and a peasant, in your habits;No fish lives near our shores, whose blood can dyeScarlet or purple; all that we possess,With beasts we have in common: nature didDesign us to be warriors, and to break throughOur ring, the sea, by which we are environ'd;And we by force must fetch in what is wanting,Or precious to us. Add to this, we areA populous nation, and increase so fast,That, if we by our providence are not sentAbroad in colonies, or fall by the sword,Not Sicily, though now it were more fruitfulThan when 't was styled the granary of great Rome,Can yield our numerous fry bread: we must starve,Or eat up one another.
Ador.The king hearsWith much attention.
Ast.And seems moved with whatBertoldo hath deliver'd.
Bert.May you live long, sir,The king of peace, so you deny not usThe glory of the war; let not our nervesShrink up with sloth, nor, for want of employment,Make younger brothers thieves: it is their swords, sir,Must sow and reap their harvest. If examplesMay move you more than arguments, look on England,The empress of the European isles,And unto whom alone ours yields precedence:When did she flourish so, as when she wasThe mistress of the ocean, her naviesPutting a girdle round about the world?When the Iberian quaked, her worthies named;And the fair flower-de-luce grew pale, set byThe red rose and the white? Let not our armourHung up, or our unrigg'd armada, make usRidiculous to the late poor snakes our neighbours,Warm'd in our bosoms, and to whom againWe may be terrible. Rouse us, sir, from the sleepOf idleness, and redeem our mortgaged honours.Your birth, and justly, claims my father's kingdom;But his heroic mind descends to me:I will confirm so much.
Ador.In his looks he seemsTo break ope Janus' temple.
Ast.How these younglingsTake fire from him!
Ador.It works an alterationUpon the king.
Ant.I can forbear no longer:War, war, my sovereign!
Ful.The king appearsResolved, and does prepare to speak.
Rob.Think notOur counsel 's built upon so weak a base,As to be overturn'd, or shaken, withTempestuous winds of words. As I, my lord,Before resolved you, I will not engageMy person in this quarrel; neither pressMy subjects to maintain it: yet, to showMy rule is gentle, and that I have feelingO' your master's sufferings, since these gallants, wearyOf the happiness of peace, desire to tasteThe bitter sweets of war, we do consentThat, as adventurers and volunteers,No way compell'd by us, they may make trialOf their boasted valours.
Bert.We desire no more.
Rob.'Tis well; and, but my grant in this, expect notAssistance from me. Govern, as you please,The province you make choice of; for, I vowBy all things sacred, if that thou miscarryIn this rash undertaking, I will hear itNo otherwise than as a sad disaster,Fallen on a stranger; nor will I esteemThat man my subject, who, in thy extremes,In purse or person aids thee. Take your fortune:You know me; I have said it. So, my lord,You have my absolute answer.
Amb.My prince pays,In me, his duty.
Rob.Follow me, Fulgentio,And you, Astutio.[Flourish. ExeuntRoberto, Fulgentio, Astutio,and Attendants.
Gasp.What a frown he threw,At his departure, on you!
Bert.Let him keepHis smiles for his state flatterer, I care not.
Ant.Shall we aboard to night?
Amb.Your speed, my lord,Doubles the benefit.
Bert.I have a businessRequires despatch; some two hours hence I'll meet you.[Exeunt.
The same. A Room inCamiola's House.
Enter SigniorSylli,walking fantastically, followed byCamiolaandClarinda.
Cam.Nay, signior, this is too much ceremony,In my own house.
Syl.What's gracious abroad,Must be in private practised.
Clar.For your mirth's sakeLet him alone; he has been all this morningIn practice with a peruked gentleman-usher,To teach him his true amble, and his postures,[Sylliwalking by, and practising.When he walks before a lady.
Syl.You may, madam,Perhaps, believe that I in this use art,To make you dote upon me, by exposingMy more than most rare features to your view:But I, as I have ever done, deal simply.Look not with too much contemplation on me;If you do, you are lost.
Cam.Is 't possible?What philters or love-powders do you use,To force affection? I see nothing inYour person but I dare look on, yet keepMy own poor heart still.
Syl.You are warn'd—be arm'd;And do not lose the hope of such a husband,In being too soon enamour'd.
Cam.Never fear it;Though your best taking part, your wealth, were trebled,I would not woo you. But since in your pityYou please to give me caution, tell me whatTemptations I must fly from.
Syl.The first is,That you never hear me sing, for I'm a Syren:If you observe, when I warble, the dogs howl,As ravish'd with my ditties; and you willRun mad to hear me.
Cam.I will stop my ears,And keep my little wits.
Syl.Next, when I dance,And come aloft thus, [capers] cast not a sheep's eyeUpon the quivering of my calf.
Cam.Proceed, sir.
Syl.Nor should your little ladyship be taken withMy pretty spider-fingers, nor my eyes,That twinkle on both sides.
Cam.Was there ever suchA piece of motley[144]heard of! [A knocking within.] Who's that? [ExitClarinda.] You may spareThe catalogue of my dangers.
Syl.No, good madam;I have not told you half.
Cam.Enough, good signior.—
Re-enterClarinda.
Who is 't?
Clar.The brother of the king.
Syl.Nay, start not.The brother of the king! is he no more?Were it the king himself, I'd give him leaveTo speak his mind to you, for I am not jealous;And, to assure your ladyship of so much,I'll usher him in, and, that done—hide myself,[Aside, and exit.
Cam.Camiola, if ever, now be constant:This is, indeed, a suitor, whose sweet presence,Courtship, and loving language, would have stagger'dThe chaste Penelope; and, to increaseThe wonder, did not modesty forbid it,I should ask that from him he sues to me for:And yet my reason, like a tyrant, tells meI must nor give nor take it.
Re-enterSylliwithBertoldo.
Syl.I must tell you,You lose your labour. Yet you shall have my countenanceTo parley with her, and I'll take special careThat none shall interrupt you.
Bert.You are courteous.
Syl.Come, wench, wilt thou hear wisdom?
Clar.Yes, from you, sir.[They walk aside.
Bert.If forcing this sweet favour from your hand,[Kisses her hand.Fair madam, argue me of too much boldness,When you are pleased to understand I takeA parting kiss, if not excuse, at least'Twill qualify the offence.
Cam.A parting kiss, sir!What nation, envious of the happinessWhich Sicily enjoys in your sweet presence,Can buy you from her? or what climate yieldPleasures transcending those which you enjoy here,Being both beloved and honour'd; the north-starAnd guider of all hearts; and, to sum upYour full account of happiness in a word,The brother of the king?
Bert.Do you, alone,And with an unexampled cruelty,Enforce my absence, and deprive me ofThose blessings which you, with a polish'd phrase,Seem to insinuate that I do possess,And yet tax me as being guilty ofMy wilful exile? What are titles to me,Or popular suffrage, or my nearness toThe king in blood, or fruitful Sicily,Though it confess'd no sovereign but myself,When you, that are the essence of my being,The anchor of my hopes, the real substanceOf my felicity, in your disdain,Turn all to fading and deceiving shadows?
Cam.You tax me without cause.
Bert.You must confess it.But answer love with love, and seal the contractIn the uniting of our souls, how gladly(Though now I were in action, and assured,Following my fortune, that plumed VictoryWould make her glorious stand upon my tent)Would I put off my armour, in my heatOf conquest, and, like Antony, pursueMy Cleopatra! Will you yet look on meWith an eye of favour?
Cam.Truth bear witness for me,That, in the judgment of my soul, you areA man so absolute, and circular,In all those wish'd-for rarities that may takeA virgin captive, that, though at this instantAll scepter'd monarchs of our western worldWere rivals with you, and Camiola worthyOf such a competition, you aloneShould wear the garland.
Bert.If so, what divertsYour favour from me?
Cam.No mulct in yourself,Or in your person, mind, or fortune.
Bert.What then?
Cam.The consciousness of mine own wants: alas! sir,We are not parallels; but, like lines divided,Can ne'er meet in one centre[145]. Your birth, sir,Without addition, were an ample dowryFor one of fairer fortunes; and this shape,Were you ignoble, far above all value:To this so clear a mind, so furnish'd withHarmonious faculties moulded from heaven,That though you were Thersites in your features,Of no descent, and Irus in your fortunes,Ulysses-like, you'd force all eyes and earsTo love, but seen; and, when heard, wonder atYour matchless story: but all these bound upTogether in one volume!—give me leaveWith admiration to look upon them;But not presume, in my own flattering hopes,I may or can enjoy them.
Bert.How you ruinWhat you would seem to build up! I know noDisparity between us: you're an heir,Sprung from a noble family; fair, rich, young,And every way my equal.
Cam.Sir, excuse me;One aerie with proportion ne'er disclosesThe eagle and the wren[146]:—tissue and friezeIn the same garment, monstrous! But supposeThat what 's in you excessive were diminish'd,And my desert supplied; the stronger bar,Religion, stops our entrance: you are, sir,A knight of Malta, by your order boundTo a single life; you cannot marry me;And, I assure myself, you are too nobleTo seek me, though my frailty should consent,In a base path.
Bert.A dispensation, lady,Will easily absolve me.
Cam.O take heed, sir!When what is vow'd to heaven is dispensed with,To serve our ends on earth, a curse must follow,And not a blessing.
Bert.Is there no hope left me?
Cam.Nor to myself, but is a neighbour toImpossibility. True love should walkOn equal feet; in us it does not, sir:But rest assured, excepting this, I shall beDevoted to your service.
Bert.And this is yourDeterminate sentence?
Cam.Not to be revoked.
Bert.Farewell, then, fairest cruel! all thoughts in meOf women perish. Let the glorious lightOf noble war extinguish Love's dim taper.That only lends me light to see my folly:Honour, be thou my ever-living mistress,And fond affection, as thy bond-slave, serve thee![Exit.
Cam.How soon my sun is set, he being absent,Never to rise again! What a fierce battleIs fought between my passions!
Syl.I perceiveHe has his answer: now must I step inTo comfort her. [Comes forward.] You have found, I hope, sweet lady,Some difference between a youth of my pitch,And this bugbear Bertoldo. Despair not; IMay be in time entreated.
Cam.Be so now, to leave me.—Lights for my chamber! O my heart![Exeunt.
The same. A Room in the Palace.
EnterRoberto, Fulgentio,andAstutio.
Rob.Embark'd to-night, do you say?
Ful.I saw him aboard, sir.
Rob.And without taking of his leave?
Ast.'Twas strange!
Rob.Are we grown so contemptible?
Ful.'Tis farFrom me, sir, to add fuel to your anger,That, in your ill opinion of him, burnsToo hot already; else, I should affirmIt was a gross neglect.
Rob.A wilful scornOf duty and allegiance; you give itToo fair a name: but we shall think on 't. Can youGuess what the numbers were, that follow'd himIn his desperate action?
Ful.More than you think, sir.All ill-affected spirits in Palermo,Or to your government or person, withThe turbulent swordmen, such whose poverty forced themTo wish a change, are gone along with him;Creatures devoted to his undertakings,In right or wrong: and, to express their zealAnd readiness to serve him, ere they went,Profanely took the sacrament on their knees,To live and die with him.
Rob.O most impious!Their loyalty to us forgot?
Ful.I fear so.
Ast.Unthankful as they are!
Ful.Yet this deserves notOne troubled thought in you, sir; with your pardon,I hold that their remove from hence makes moreFor your security than danger.
Rob.True;And, as I'll fashion it, they shall feel it too.Astutio, you shall presently be despatch'dWith letters, writ and sign'd with our own hand,To the duchess of Sienna, in excuseOf our part in these forces sent against her.You must, beside, from us take some instructions,To be imparted, as you judge them useful,To the general Gonzaga. InstantlyPrepare you for your journey.
Ast.With the wingsOf loyalty and duty.[Exit.
Ful.I am boldTo put your majesty in mind——
Rob.Of my promise,And aids, to further you in your amorous projectTo the fair and rich Camiola? there's my ring;Whatever you shall say that I entreat,Or can command by power, I will make good.
Ful.Ever your majesty's creature.
Rob.Venus provePropitious to you![Exit.
Ful.All sorts to my wishes:Bertoldo was my hindrance; he removed,I now will court her in the conqueror's style;"Come, see, and overcome."—Boy!
Enter Page.
Page.Sir; your pleasure?
Ful.Haste to Camiola; bid her prepareAn entertainment suitable to a fortuneShe could not hope for. Tell her, I vouchsafeTo honour her with a visit.
Page.'Tis a favourWill make her proud.
Ful.I know it.
Page.I am gone, sir.[Exit.
Ful.Entreaties fit not me; a man in graceMay challenge awe and privilege, by his place.[Exit.
The same. A Room inCamiola's House.
EnterAdorni, Sylli,andClarinda.
Ador.So melancholy, say you!
Clar.Never givenTo such retirement.
Ador.Can you guess the cause?
Clar.If it hath not its birth and being fromThe brave Bertoldo's absence, I confess'Tis past my apprehension.
Syl.You are wide,The whole field wide[147]. I, in my understanding,Pity your ignorance.
Ador.Resolve us.
Syl.Know,Here walks the cause. She dares not look upon me;My beauties are so terrible and enchanting,She cannot endure my sight.
Ador.There I believe you.
Syl.But the time will come, be comforted, when I willPut off this vizor of unkindness to her,And show an amorous and yielding face:And, until then, though Hercules himselfDesire to see her, he had better eatHis club, than pass her threshold; for I will beHer Cerberus, to guard her.
Ador.A good dog!
Clar.Worth twenty porters.
Enter Page.
Page.Keep you open house here?No groom to attend a gentleman! O, I spy one.
Syl.He means not me, I am sure.
Page.You, sirrah sheep's-head,With a face cut on a cat-stick[148], do you hear?You, yeoman fewterer[149], conduct me toThe lady of the mansion, or my poniardShall disembogue thy soul.
Syl.O terrible!disembogue!I talk'd of Hercules, and here is oneBound up indecimo sexto.
Page.Answer, wretch.
Syl.Pray you, little gentleman, be not so furious:The lady keeps her chamber.
Page.And we present,Sent on an embassy to her! but here isHer gentlewoman. Sirrah! hold my cloak,While I take a leap at her lips: do it, and neatly;Or, having first tripp'd up thy heels, I'll makeThy back my footstool.[KissesClarinda.
Syl.Tamberlane in little!Am I turn'd Turk[150]! What an office am I put to!
Clar.My lady, gentle youth, is indisposed.
Page.Though she were dead and buried, only tell her,The great man in the court, the brave Fulgentio,Descends to visit her, and it will raise herOut of the grave for joy.
EnterFulgentio.
Syl.Here comes another!The devil, I fear, in his holiday clothes.
Page.So soon!My part is at an end then. Cover my shoulders;When I grow great, thou shalt serve me.
Ful.Are you, sirrah,An implement of the house?[ToSylli.
Syl.Sure he will makeA jointstool of me!
Ful.Or, if you belong[ToAdor.To the lady of the place, command her hither.
Ador.I do not wear her livery, yet acknowledgeA duty to her; and as little boundTo serve your peremptory will, as she isTo obey your summons. 'Twill become you, sir,To wait her leisure; then, her pleasure known,You may present your duty.
Ful.Duty! Slave,I'll teach you manners.
Ador.I'm past learning; make notA tumult in the house.
Ful.Shall I be braved thus?[They draw.
Clar.Help! murder!
EnterCamiola.
Cam.What insolence is this? Adorni, hold,Hold, I command you.
Ful.Saucy groom!
Cam.Not so, sir;However, in his life, he had dependenceUpon my father, he's a gentleman,As well born as yourself. Put on your hat.
Ful.In my presence, without leave!
Syl.He has mine, madam.
Cam.And I must tell you, sir, and in plain language,Howe'er your glittering outside promise gentry,The rudeness of your carriage and behaviourSpeaks you a coarser thing.
Syl.She means a clown, sir;I am her interpreter, for want of a better.
Cam.I am a queen in mine own house; nor must youExpect an empire here.
Syl.Sure I must love herBefore the day, the pretty soul's so valiant.
Cam.What are you? and what would you with me?
Ful.Proud one,When you know what I am, and what I came for,And may, on your submission, proceed to,You, in your reason, must repent the coarsenessOf my entertainment.
Cam.Why, fine man? what are you?
Ful.A kinsman of the king's.
Cam.I cry you mercy,For his sake, not your own. But, grant you are so,'Tis not impossible but a king may haveA fool to his kinsman,—no way meaning you, sir.
Ful.You have heard of Fulgentio?
Cam.Long since, sir;A suit-broker in court. He has the worstReport among good men I ever heard of,For bribery and extortion: in their prayers,Widows and orphans curse him for a cankerAnd caterpillar in the state. I hope,Sir, you are not the man.
Ful.I reply notAs you deserve, being assured you know me;Pretending ignorance of my person, onlyTo give me a taste of your wit: 'tis well, and courtly;I like a sharp wit well.
Syl.I cannot endure it;Nor any of the Syllis.
Ful.More; I know, too,This harsh induction must serve as a foilTo the well-tuned observance and respectYou will hereafter pay me, being madeFamiliar with my credit with the king,And that (contain your joy) I deign to love you.
Cam.Love me! I am not rapt with it.
Ful.Hear 't again;I love you honestly: now you admire me.
Cam.I do, indeed; it being a word so seldomHeard from a courtier's mouth. But, pray you, deal plainly,Since you find me simple; what might be the motivesInducing you to leave the freedom ofA bachelor's life, on your soft neck to wearThe stubborn yoke of marriage; and, of allThe beauties in Palermo, to choose me,Poor me? that is the main point you must treat of.
Ful.Why, I will tell you. Of a little thingYou are a pretty peat[151], indifferent fair too;And, like a new-rigg'd ship, both tight and yare:Besides, the quickness of your eye assuresAn active spirit.
Cam.You are pleasant, sir;Yet I presume that there was one thing in me,Unmention'd yet, that took you more than allThose parts you have remember'd.
Ful.What?
Cam.My wealth, sir.
Ful.You are in the right; without that, beauty isA flower worn in the morning, at night trod on:But beauty, youth, and fortune meeting in you,I will vouchsafe to marry you.
Cam.You speak well;And, in return, excuse me, sir, if IDeliver reasons why, upon no terms,I'll marry you: I fable not.
Syl.I am gladTo hear this: I began to have an ague.
Ful.Come, your wise reasons.
Cam.Such as they are, pray take them:First, I am doubtful whether you are a man,Since, for your shape, trimm'd up in a lady's dressing,You might pass for a woman; for the fairnessOf your complexion, which you think will take me,The colour, I must tell you, in a man,Is weak and faint, and never will hold out,If put to labour: give me the lovely brown,A thick curl'd hair of the same die, a leg withoutAn artificial calf;—I suspect yours;But let that pass.
Syl.She means me all this while,For I have every one of those good parts;O Sylli! fortunate Sylli!
Cam.You are moved, sir.
Ful.Fie! no; go on.
Cam.Then, as you are a courtier,A graced one too, I fear you have been too forward;And so much for your person. One word more,And I have done.
Ful.I'll ease you of the trouble,Coy and disdainful!
Cam.Save me, or else he'll beat me.
Ful.No, your own folly shall; and, since you put meTo my last charm, look upon this, and tremble.[Shows the king's ring.
Cam.At the sight of a fair ring! the king's, I take it?I have seen him wear the like: if he hath sent it,As a favour, to me——
Ful.Yes, 'tis very likely,His dying mother's gift, prized as his crown!By this he does command you to be mine;By his gift you are so:—you may yet redeem all.
Cam.You are in a wrong account still. Though the king mayDispose of my life and goods, my mind's mine own,And never shall be yours. The king, heaven bless him!Is good and gracious, and will not compelHis subjects against their wills. I believe,Forgetting it when he wash'd his hands, you stole it,With an intent to awe me. But you are cozen'd;I am still myself, and will be.
Ful.A proud haggard[152],And not to be reclaim'd! which of your grooms,Your coachman, fool, or footman, is the loverPreferr'd before me?
Cam.You are foul-mouth'd.
Ful.Much fairerThan thy black soul; and so I will proclaim thee.
Cam.Were I a man, thou durst not speak this.
Ful.HeavenSo prosper me, as I resolve to do itTo all men, and in every place: scorn'd byA tit of ten-pence![ExeuntFulgentioand Page.
Syl.Now I begin to be valiant:Nay, I will draw my sword. O for a brother[153]!Do a friend's part; pray you, carry him the length of 't.I give him three years and a day to match my Toledo,And then we'll fight like dragons.
Ador.Pray, have patience.
Cam.I may live to have vengeance: my BertoldoWould not have heard this.
Ador.Madam,——
Cam.Pray you, spareYour language. Prithee fool[154], and make me merry.[ToSylli.
Syl.That is my office ever.
Ador.I must do,Not talk; this glorious gallant shall hear from me.[Exeunt.
The Siennese. A Camp before the Walls of Sienna.
Chambers shot off: a Flourish as to an Assault: after which, enterGonzaga, Pierio, Roderigo, Jacomo,and Soldiers.
Gonz.Is the breach made assaultable?
Pier.Yes, and the moatFill'd up; the cannoneer hath done his parts;We may enter six abreast.
Rod.There's not a manDares show himself upon the wall.
Jac.Defeat notThe soldiers' hoped-for spoil.
Pier.If you, sir,Delay the assault, and the city be given upTo your discretion, you in honour cannotUse the extremity of war,—but, inCompassion to them, you to us prove cruel.
Jac.And an enemy to yourself.
Rod.A hindrance toThe brave revenge you have vow'd.
Gonz.Temper your heat,And lose not, by too sudden rashness, thatWhich, be but patient, will be offer'd to you.Security ushers ruin; proud contemptOf an enemy three parts vanquish'd, with desireAnd greediness of spoil, have often wrestedA certain victory from the conqueror's gripe.Discretion is the tutor of the war.Valour the pupil; and, when we commandWith lenity, and our direction's follow'dWith cheerfulness, a prosperous end must crownOur works well undertaken.
Rod.Ours are finish'd——
Pier.If we make use of fortune.
Gonz.Her false smilesDeprive you of your judgments. The conditionOf our affairs exacts a double care,And, like bifronted Janus, we must lookBackward, as forward: though a flattering calmBids us urge on, a sudden tempest raised,Not feared, much less expected, in our rear,May foully fall upon us, and distract usTo our confusion.—
Enter a Scout, hastily.
Our scout! what bringsThy ghastly looks, and sudden speed?
Scout.The assuranceOf a new enemy.
Gonz.This I foresaw and fear'd.What are they, know'st thou?
Scout.They are, by their colours,Sicilians, bravely mounted, and the brightnessOf their rich armours doubly gilded withReflection of the sun.
Gonz.From Sicily?——The king in league! no war proclaim'd! 'tis foul:But this must be prevented, not disputed.Ha! how is this? your estridge[155]plumes, that butEven now, like quills of porcupines, seem'd to threatenThe stars, drop at the rumour of a shower,And, like to captive colours, sweep the earth!Bear up; but in great dangers, greater mindsAre never proud. Shall a few loose troops, untrain'dBut in a customary ostentation,Presented as a sacrifice to your valours,Cause a dejection in you?
Pier.No dejection.
Rod.However startled, where you lead we'll follow.
Gonz.'Tis bravely said. We will not stay their charge,But meet them man to man, and horse to horse.Pierio, in our absence hold our place;And with our foot men and those sickly troopsPrevent a sally: I in mine own person,With part of the cavallery, will bidThese hunters welcome to a bloody breakfast:—But I lose time.
Pier.I'll to my charge.[Exit.
Gonz.And weTo ours: I'll bring you on.
Jac.If we come off,It's not amiss; if not, my state is settled.[Exeunt. Alarum within.
The same. The Citadel of Sienna.
EnterFerdinand, Druso,andLivio,on the Walls.
Fer.No aids from Sicily! Hath hope forsook us;And that vain comfort to affliction, pity,By our vow'd friend denied us? we can nor liveNor die with honour: like beasts in a toil,We wait the leisure of the bloody hunter,Who is not so far reconciled unto us,As in one death to give a periodTo our calamities; but in delayingThe fate we cannot fly from, starved with wants,We die this night, to live again to-morrow,And suffer greater torments.
Dru.There is notThree days' provision for every soldier,At an ounce of bread a day, left in the city.
Liv.To die the beggar's death, with hunger madeAnatomies while we live, cannot but crackOur heart-strings with vexation.
Fer.Would they would break,Break altogether! How willingly, like Cato,Could I tear out my bowels, rather thanLook on the conqueror's insulting face;But that religion, and the horrid dreamTo be suffer'd in the other world, denies it!
Enter a Soldier.
What news with thee?
Sold.From the turret of the fort,By the rising clouds of dust, through which, like lightning,The splendour of bright arms sometimes brake through,I did descry some forces making towards us;And, from the camp, as emulous of their glory,The general, (for I know him by his horse,)And bravely seconded, encounter'd them.Their greetings were too rough for friends; their swords,And not their tongues, exchanging courtesies.By this the main battalias are join'd;And, if you please to be spectators ofThe horrid issue, I will bring you where,As in a theatre, you may see their fatesIn purple gore presented.
Fer.Heaven, if yet thou artAppeased for my wrong done to Aurelia,Take pity of my miseries! Lead the way, friend.[Exeunt.
The same. A Plain near the Camp.
A long Charge; after which, a Flourish for Victory: then enterGonzaga, Jacomo,andRoderigo,wounded;Bertoldo, Gasparo,andAntonio,Prisoners. Officers and Soldiers.
Gonz.We have them yet, though they cost us dear. This wasCharged home, and bravely follow'd. Be to yourselves[ToJacomoandRoderigo.True mirrors to each other's worth; and, lookingWith noble emulation on his wounds,[Points toBert.The glorious livery of triumphant war,Imagine these with equal grace appearUpon yourselves. The bloody sweat you have suffer'dIn this laborious, nay, toilsome harvest,Yields a rich crop of conquest; and the spoil,Most precious balsam to a soldier's hurts,Will ease and cure them. Let me look upon[GasparoandAntonioare brought forward.The prisoners' faces. Oh, how much transform'dFrom what they were! O Mars! were these toys fashion'dTo undergo the burthen of thy service?The weight of their defensive armour bruisedTheir weak effeminate limbs, and would have forced them,In a hot day, without a blow to yield.
Ant.This insultation shows not manly in you.
Gonz.To men I had forborne it; you are women,Or, at the best, loose carpet-knights[156]. What furySeduced you to exchange your ease in courtFor labour in the field? Perhaps you thoughtTo charge, through dust and blood, an armed foe,Was but like graceful running at the ringFor a wanton mistress' glove; and the encounter,A soft impression on her lips:—but youAre gaudy butterflies, and I wrong myselfIn parling with you.
Gasp.Vœ victis!now we prove it.
Rod.But here's one fashion'd in another mould,And made of tougher metal.
Gonz.True; I owe himFor this wound bravely given.
Bert.O that mountainsWere heap'd upon me, that I might expire,A wretch no more remember'd![Aside.
Gonz.Look up, sir;To be o'ercome deserves no shame. If youHad fallen ingloriously, or could accuseYour want of courage in resistance, 'twereTo be lamented: but, since you perform'dAs much as could be hoped for from a man,(Fortune his enemy,) you wrong yourselfIn this dejection. I am honour'd inMy victory over you; but to have theseMy prisoners, is, in my true judgment, ratherCaptivity than a triumph: you shall findFair quarter from me, and your many wounds,Which I hope are not mortal, with such careLook'd to and cured, as if your nearest friendAttended on you.
Bert.When you know me better,You will make void this promise: can you call meInto your memory?
Gonz.The brave Bertoldo!A brother of our order! By St. John,Our holy patron, I am more amazed,Nay, thunderstruck with thy apostacy,And precipice from the most solemn vowsMade unto Heaven when this, the glorious badgeOf our Redeemer, was conferred upon theeBy the great master, than if I had seenA reprobate Jew, an atheist, Turk, or Tartar,Baptized in our religion!
Bert.This I look'd for;And am resolved to suffer.
Gonz.Fellow-soldiers,Behold this man, and, taught by his example,Know that 'tis safer far to play with lightning,Than trifle in things sacred. In my rage[Weeps.I shed these at the funeral of his virtue,Faith, and religion; why, I will tell you:—He was a gentleman so train'd up and fashion'dFor noble uses, and his youth did promiseSuch certainties, more than hopes, of great achievements,As—if the Christian world had stood opposedAgainst the Othoman race, to try the fortuneOf one encounter—this Bertoldo had been,For his knowledge to direct, and matchless courageTo execute, without a rival, byThe votes of good men, chosen general;As the prime soldier, and most deservingOf all that wear the cross: which now, in justice,I thus tear from him.
Bert.Let me die with itUpon my breast.
Gonz.No; by this thou wert sworn,On all occasions, as a knight, to guardWeak ladies from oppression, and neverTo draw thy sword against them; whereas thou,In hope of gain or glory, when a princess,And such a princess as Aurelia is,Was dispossess'd by violence of what wasHer true inheritance, against thine oathHast, to thy uttermost, labour'd to upholdHer falling enemy. But thou shalt payA heavy forfeiture, and learn too late,Valour employ'd in an ill quarrel turnsTo cowardice, and Virtue then puts onFoul Vice's visor. This is that which cancelsAll friendship's bands between us.—Bear them off;I will hear no reply: and let the ransomOf these, for they are yours, be highly rated.In this I do but right, and let it beStyled justice, and not wilful cruelty.[Exeunt.
The same. A Camp before the Walls of Sienna.
EnterGonzaga, Astutio, Roderigo,andJacomo.
Gonz.What I have done, sir, by the law of armsI can and will make good.
Ast.I have no commissionTo expostulate the act. These letters speakThe king my master's love to you, and hisVow'd service to the duchess, on whose personI am to give attendance.
Gonz.At this instant,She's at Fienza: you may spare the troubleOf riding thither: I have advertised herOf our success, and on what humble termsSienna stands: though presently I canPossess it, I defer it, that she mayEnter her own, and, as she please, dispose ofThe prisoners and the spoil.
Ast.I thank you, sir.In the mean time, if I may have your licence,I have a nephew, and one once my ward,For whose liberties and ransoms I would gladlyMake composition.
Gonz.They are, as I take it,Call'd Gasparo and Antonio.
Ast.The same, sir.
Gonz.For them, you must treat with these; but, for Bertoldo,He is mine own: if the king will ransom him,He pays down fifty thousand crowns; if not,He lives and dies my slave.
Ast.Pray you, a word:[Aside toGonz.The king will rather thank you to detain him,Than give one crown to free him.
Gonz.At his pleasure.I'll send the prisoners under guard: my businessCalls me another way.[Exit.
Ast.My service waits you.Now, gentlemen, for this ransom, since you are notTo be brought lower, there is no evading;I'll be your paymaster.
Rod.We desire no better.
Ast.But not a word of what's agreed between us,Till I have school'd my gallants.
Jac.I am dumb, sir.
Enter a Guard, withBertoldo, Antonio,andGasparo,in irons.
Bert.And where removed now? hath the tyrant found outWorse usage for us?
Ant.Worse it cannot be.My greyhound has fresh straw, and scraps, in his kennel;But we have neither.
Gasp.Did I ever thinkTo wear such garters on silk stockings? orThat my too curious appetite, that turn'dAt the sight of godwits, pheasant, partridge, quails,Larks, woodcocks, calver'd salmon[157], as coarse diet,Would leap at a mouldy crust?
Ant.And go without it,So oft as I do? Oh! how have I jeer'dThe city entertainment! A huge shoulderOf glorious fat ram-mutton, secondedWith a pair of tame cats or conies, a crab-tart,With a worthy loin of veal, and valiant capon,Mortified to grow tender!—these I scorn'd,From their plentiful horn of abundance, though invited:But now I could carry my own stool to a tripe[158],And call their chitterlings charity, and bless the founder.
Bert.O that I were no further sensibleOf my miseries than you are! you, like beasts,Feel only stings of hunger, and complain notBut when you're empty: but your narrow souls(If you have any) cannot comprehendHow insupportable the torments are,Which a free and noble soul, made captive, suffers.Most miserable men!—and what am I, then,That envy you? Fetters, though made of gold,Express base thraldom; and all delicatesPrepared by Median cooks for epicures,When not our own, are bitter: quilts fill'd highWith gossamere and roses cannot yieldThe body soft repose, the mind kept wakingWith anguish and affliction.
Ast.My good lord——
Bert.This is no time nor place for flattery, sir:Pray you, style me as I am, a wretch forsakenOf the world, as myself.
Ast.I would it wereIn me to help you.
Bert.If that you want power, sir,Lip-comfort cannot cure me. Pray you, leave meTo mine own private thoughts.[Walks by.
Ast.[comes forward.] My valiant nephew!And my more than warlike ward! I am glad to see you,After your glorious conquests. Are these chainsRewards for your good service? if they are,You should wear them on your necks, since they are massy,Like aldermen of the war.
Ant.You jeer us too!
Gasp.Good uncle, name not, as you are a man of honour,That fatal word of war; the very sound of itIs more dreadful than a cannon.
Ant.But redeem usFrom this captivity, and I'll vow hereafterNever to wear a sword, or cut my meatWith a knife that has an edge or point; I'll starve first.
Ast.Well, have more wit hereafter: for this timeYou are ransom'd.
Jac.Off with their irons!
Rod.Do, do:If you are ours again, you know your price.
Ant.Pray you, despatch us: I shall ne'er believeI am a free man, till I set my footIn Sicily again, and drink Palermo,And in Palermo too.
Ast.The wind sits fair;You shall aboard to-night: with the rising sunYou may touch upon the coast. But take your leavesOf the late general first.
Gasp.I will be brief.
Ant.And I. My lord, Heaven keep you!
Gasp.Yours, to useIn the way of peace; but as your soldiers, never.
Ant.A pox of war! no more of war.[ExeuntRod. Jac. Ant.andGasp.
Bert.Have youAuthority to loose their bonds, yet leaveThe brother of your king, whose worth disdainsComparison with such as these, in irons?If ransom may redeem them, I have lands,A patrimony of mine own, assign'd meBy my deceased sire, to satisfyWhate'er can be demanded for my freedom.
Ast.I wish you had, sir; but the king, who yieldsNo reason for his will, in his displeasureHath seized on all you had; nor will Gonzaga,Whose prisoner now you are, accept of lessThan fifty thousand crowns.
Bert.I find it now,That misery never comes alone. But, grantThe king is yet inexorable, timeMay work him to a feeling of my sufferings.I have friends that swore their lives and fortunes wereAt my devotion, and, among the rest,Yourself, my lord, when forfeited to the lawFor a foul murder, and in cold blood done,I made your life my gift, and reconciled youTo this incensed king, and got your pardon.—Beware ingratitude! I know you are rich,And may pay down the sum.