The martyr'd souldier as it was sundry times acted with a generall applause at the Private House in Drury lane, and at other publicke theaters. By the Queenes Majesties servants. The author H. Shirley Gent.
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- Title
- The martyr'd souldier as it was sundry times acted with a generall applause at the Private House in Drury lane, and at other publicke theaters. By the Queenes Majesties servants. The author H. Shirley Gent.
- Author
- Shirley, Henry, d. 1627.
- Publication
- London :: Printed by I. Okes, and are to be sold by Francis Eglesfield at his house in Pauls Church-yard at the signe of the Mary-gold,
- 1638.
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- Cite this Item
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"The martyr'd souldier as it was sundry times acted with a generall applause at the Private House in Drury lane, and at other publicke theaters. By the Queenes Majesties servants. The author H. Shirley Gent." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A12127.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 29, 2025.
Pages
Page [unnumbered]
Try Sir if Musick can procure your rest.
'Tis swelld to a faire Volume.
Ha, ha, brave Hunting.
Page [unnumbered]
Foure hundred Virgins ravisht.
Christian Whores; common, 'tis common.
More, more, hang Mayden-heads, Christian Maiden∣heads.
Looke to the King.
What shouts are these? see Cosmo.
Good newes my Lord; here comes Hubert from the warrs
Long life and health: wait ever on the King.
What are they?
Your Starre comes shining.
Page [unnumbered]
See they come.
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Nothing to me?
Ile give you him in wonder.
Hang him out in a painted cloth for a monster.
Is he the Divell? All.
No Sir.
Hubert, thou art too busie.
So was I in the battaile.
Prethee peace.
Page [unnumbered]
Brave still.
And what to read mine; is my booke claspt up?
Yours?
Any?
Yes, none excepted.
The Prince was there.
Page [unnumbered]
You?
Yes, but not equall to the Generals.
Page [unnumbered]
We are richly paid.
Who earnes it must have wages.
Ile see you imbrac'd too.
With all my heart.
His Scholler!
Stand forth; this is Eugenius.
Your gods, wretched soules.
Page [unnumbered]
What mus•• now be done?
Page [unnumbered]
Not wounded Sir I hope?
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Ha? 'tis strange thou tell'st me.
Page [unnumbered]
Bellizarius?
It names me too.
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ACTUS SECUNDUS.
I heard it.
No matter, there's enough such birds every where.
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And they are all for foyles.
Foyl'd let 'em be then.
Pray tell how.
Page [unnumbered]
Done like a Souldier.
Will you? pray carry to him my best wishes.
I can carry any thing but Blowes, Coles, my Drink, and that clapper of the Divell, the tongue of a Scould: Farewell.
I dare not.
I must not.
Say we command it.
Truth is, I neither can, nor will.
Hee's mad.
Page [unnumbered]
Why Bellizarius—:
The King's in presence.
All leave the roome.
We obey your highnesse.
Sir, nay sir good Bellizarius.
In that I doe obey.
Doe you make scruple then of our command?
Yes Sir, where the act's unjust and impure.
Why then are we a King, if not obey'd?
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Ha? what's this, within there?
Thou art mad.
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Epidophorus, your eare: see't done.
It shall my Lord.
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Ile try your patience.
'Tis done my Lord as you directed.
Oh brave Master y'faith.
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Marry is hee.
Why to the Devill my friend?
How can you discerne them?
Well sayd my friends, you keepe good watch I see.
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Iove grant it: Ile leave the roome.
My Lord pray leave us.
Your will be your owne Law.
Shee does my Lord; but not much better than she was wont.
Not like her? why my Lord?
Page [unnumbered]
'Twas a sweet dreame, good Sir make use of it.
Page [unnumbered]
ACTUS TERTIUS.
Ho, rise sluggards: so, so, ho; so, ho.
So, ho, ho, we come.
Morrow jolly Wood-men.
Morrow, morrow.
Are the swift Horses ready?
Where are the Dogges?
What Dogges are they?
Page [unnumbered]
There boy.
If it be wide enough.
Why as wide as some foure or five Acres that's all,
And what's the game to day?
The wilde Boare.
Which of'em, the greatest? I have not seene him.
Not seene him? he is as big as an Elephant.
Now will he build a whole Castle full of lies.
Not seene him? I have.
No, no; seene him; as big as an Elephant.
A Lighter!
Yes: and what doe you thinke the Brisells are worth?
Nothing.
Nothing? one Shoomaker offer'd to finde me and the Heire-male of my body, 22. yeeres, but to have them for his owne ends.
He would put Sparabiles into the soales then?
Not a Bill, not a Sparrow;
This Boares head is so huge, that a Vintner but drawing that picture, and hanging it up for a Signe, it fell down, and broke him,
Oh horrible!
He has two stones so bigge: let me see, (a Poxe) thy head is but a Cherry-stone to the least of'em.
How long are his Tuskes?
Each of them as crooked, and as long as a Mowers sith.
There's a Cutler.
Page [unnumbered]
And when he whets his Tuskes, you would sweare there were a sea in's belly, and that his chops were the shore, to which the Foame was beaten: if his Foame were frothy Yest, 'twere worth tenne groats a paile for Bakers.
What will the King doe with him if he kill him?
Bake him; and if they put him in one Pasty, a new O∣ven must be made, with a mouth as wide as the gates of the City.
There boy, there boy.
Where are the Dogges?
When did you see him?
A Liter for the King; the King is hurt.
How?
The Boare never came neare him.
The Kings Physitians.
Runne for the Kings Physitians.
Conduct us to him.
Page [unnumbered]
Is this my dyet?
Yes marry is it; though it be not Dyet bread, 'tis bread, 'tis your dinner: and though this be not the roote of all mischiefe, yet 'tis a Carret, and excellent good meate, if you had powderd Beefe to it.
I am content with this.
If you bee not I cannot helpe it; for I am threatned to be hang'd if I set but a Tripe before you, or give you a bone to gnaw.
For me thou shalt not suffer.
I thanke you, but were not you better be no good Christian, as I am, and so fill your belly, as to lie here and starve, and be hang'd thus in Chaines?
Thanke yee for that; winne me from a Table full of good meat to leape at a crust; I am no Scholler, and you they say are a great one; and schollers must eate little, so shall you: what a fine thing is it for me to report abroad of you, that you are no great feeder, no Cormorant? what a quiet life is it when a womans tongue lies still? and is't not as good when a mans teeth lyes still.
Page [unnumbered]
If you were starv'd, what hurt were that to you?
Not any, no not any.
Here would be your praise when you should lie dead, they would say, he was a very good man, but alas had little or nothing in him.
If you bee a slave, there's more slaves in the world than you.
Right Sir, so in Trades, the Smith is a slave to the Iron∣monger, the itchy silke-weaver to the Silke-man, the Cloth∣worker to the Draper, the Whore to the Bawd, the Bawd to the Constable, and the Constable to a bribe.
Is it the Kings will I should be thus chain'd?
Yes indeed Sir: I can tell you in some countries they are held no small fooles that goe in Chaines.
I am heavy.
Heavy, how can you chuse having so much Iron upon you.
With all my heart, let deaths sister talke with you too, and shee will, but let not me see her, for I am charg'd to let no body come into you: if you want any water, give mee your Chamber pot Ile fill it.
Page [unnumbered]
1. Song.
What are earthly honours, But sins glorious banners? Let not golden gifts delight thee, Let not death nor torments fright thee From thy place thy Captaine gives thee; When thou faintest he relieves thee.
Page [unnumbered]
Hearke how the Larke Is to the Morning singing, Harke how the Bells are ringing, It is for joy that thou to Heaven art flying: This is not life, true life is got by dying.
Come, you must to the King.
Can you? Not very farre I feare.
My Lord.
Ha?
Page [unnumbered]
One of those rusty Monuments am I.
Page [unnumbered]
Yes, with full eare.
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For love divine perfection.
If of Heavens love, how rich is your reward!
Of Heavens best blessing, your most perfect selfe.
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Page [unnumbered]
Oh my good Lord, have patience.
Come one of you yourselves, and speake to him.
How fares your Highnesse?
Never worse: what's he?
One of your Highnesse-Doctors.
Page [unnumbered]
Hee's gone for.
What's my disease?
My Lord, you are poyson'd.
'Tis gone.
Yes, any thing for health; draw round the Curtaines:
Page [unnumbered]
Wee'le watch by him, whilst you two doe consult.
VVhat guesse you by that Vrine?
Surely death.
But for the way to cure it.
Page [unnumbered]
They are indeed, and they doe farre exceede.
The ventosies shall be our next intensions.
Pray Gentlemen attend his Highnesse.
These Ventosies my Lord will give you ease.
A vengeance on thy Ventosies and thee.
The Bishop Sir is come.
A Butcher; see his throat cut.
Page [unnumbered]
You cure him.
Speak on fellow.
I will doe nothing without a recompence.
A royall one.
Name what you would desire.
No, here's my bargaine.
This: that thy selfe trample upon thy Pagan gods.
Sir.
Away.
I will turne Christian.
Better wolves worry this accursed—
Page [unnumbered]
Now; you are well Sir?
Ha!
Has your paine left you?
He does it by inchantment.
By meere Witch-craft.
Thy payment for my cure?
What?
When?
Now, here presently.
Ingratefull man.
Page [unnumbered]
I would thy feares were ended.
Why thus delay you?
The stones are soft as spunges.
See Sir.
More Conjuring?
Thankes havenly preservation.
Mockt by a hell-hound?
This must not be endur'd Sir.
But are you well indeed Sir?
ACTUS QUARTUS.
Page [unnumbered]
The King sayes, instantly.
And must I be the Generall?
Onely you.
The King so sweares.
This shall be told him.
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Wee'le to the King, and tell him this.
I doe remember it.
True.
You did indeed.
More, prethee more; I had forgot this Musick.
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Get me that seale then.
O let me then be arm'd.
By this chaste clasping of our hands I sweare—
Come fellow Pagans, death meanes to fare well to day, for he is like to have rost-meate to his supper, two prin∣cipall
Page [unnumbered]
dishes; many a Knight keepes a worse Table. First, a brave Generall Carbonadoed, then a fat Bishop broyl'd, whose Rochet comes in fryed for the second course, according to the old saying, A plumpe greazie Prelate fries a fagot daintily.
Oh the Generall Bellizarius for my money: hee has a fiery spirit too, hee will roast soakingly within and with∣out.
Methinks Christians make the bravest Bonefires of a∣ny people in the Vniverse; as a Iew burnes pretty-well, but if you marke him, he burnes upward: the fire takes him by the Nose first.
I know some Vintners then are Iewes.
Now as your Iew burnes upward, your French-man burnes downeward like a Candle, and commonly goes out with a stinke like a snuffe, and what socket soever it light in, it must be well cleans'd and pick't before it can be us'd agen: But Bellizarius, the brave Generall, will flame high and cleare like a Beacon, but your Puritane Eugenius will burne blew, blew▪ like a white-bread sop in Aqua vitae. Fellow Pagans, I pray let us agree among our selves about the sharing of those two.
I, 'tis fit.
You know I am worshipfull by my place, the under∣keeper may write Squire if he list, at the bottome of the paper: I doe cry first the Generalls great Scarfe to make me a short Summer-cloake, and the Bishops wide sleeves to make me a Holy-dayes shirt.
Having a double voyce we cannot abridge you of a double share.
You that so well know what belongs to reverence, the Breeches by yours, whether Bishops or Generalls: but with this Provizo, because we will all share of both parties, as I have lead the way, I clayming the Generalls and the Bi∣shops sleeves, so he that chuses the Generalls Doublet, shall weare the Generalls Breeches.
A match.
Nay, 'twill be farre from a match that's certaine, but it
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will make us to be taken for men of note, what company soe∣ver we come in:
Speake.
To the poynt.
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So doing he will purchase many friends.
Life, love, and liberty.
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No sparke of pitty?
None.
Doe this, and we are all his.
Nothing.
None hinder her: now ply him.
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I understand her not.
Nor I.
What meanes all this?
Art in thy right wits woman?
Ha?
We are abus'd, stop her mouth.
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Can you endure this wrong Sir?
Be out-brav'd by a seducing Strumpet?
Where is the Groome?
Here is a Cammell driver.
Stand forth sirrah.
Be bould, and shrinke not, this is she.
Page [unnumbered]
Not too freely neither; I save hard, and drinke wa∣ter, so doe the Indians; yet who fuller of Bastards? so doe the Turkes, yet who gets greater Logger-heads? come wench, Ile teach thee how to cut up wild fowle.
Guard me you heavens.
Be mine eyes lost for ever?
Is that her husband?
Yes.
No matter; some husbands are so base, they keepe the doore whilst they are Cuckolded; but this is after a more manlier way, for he stands bound to see it done.
Haile her away.
Come Pusse: haile her away, which way? you way? my Cammells backs cannot climbe it.
The fellow is struck mad.
That way, it lookes into a Mill-pond; whirre, how the Wheeles goe, and the Divell grindes? no this way.
Keepe the slave backe.
Backe, keepe me backe; there sits my wife kom∣bing her haire, which curles like a witches feltlocks, all the Neets in't are Spiders, and all the Dandruffe the sand of a Scriveners Sand-boxe: Stand away, my whore shall not be lousie, let me come noynt her with Stavesucre.
Defend me, lop his hands off.
Hew him in pieces.
What has he done?
Sir, beate out his owne braines.
You for his soule must answer.
Fetch another.
A Witch, VVitches are the Divels sweete∣hearts.
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Doe it, be thou Master of much gold.
Shall I have gold to doe it? in some Countries I heare whole Lordships are spent upon a fleshly device, yet the buyer in the end had nothing but French Repentance, and the curse of Chyrurgery for his money; let me finger my Gold; Ile venture on, but not give her a penny; womans flesh was never cheaper, a man may eate it without bread, all Trades fall, so doe they.
Looke you Sir, there's your gold.
Ile tell money after my Father: oh I am strucke blinde!
The fellow is bewitcht Sir.
Force her into thy armes, or else thou dyest.
I have lost my hearing too.
Fetch other slaves.
Thou must force her.
Truely I am hoarse often with driving my Cam∣mells, and nothing does me good but sirrop of Hore∣hound.
Here are two slaves will doe it indeed.
Which is shee?
A match.
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Yes sure, and most sweet melody.
They shall.
ACTUS QUINTUS.
Are they so fruitfull?
Fruitfull?
A Hee Christian told me, that amongst them the young fel∣lowes
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are such Earing rioted Rascals, that they will runne into the parke of Matrimony at sixteene: are Bucks of the first head at eighteene, and by twenty carry in some places their hornes on their backs.
Marry these are Christian Butchers, who when their Oxen are flead, throw their skinnes on their shoul∣ders.
I thought they had beene Cuckolds.
Amongst them, no, there's no woman, that's a true Christian, will horne her husband: there dyed to night no lesse than sixe and a halfe in our Iayle.
How? sixe and a halfe?
One was a girle of thirteene with child.
Thy tidings fats me.
You may have one or two of' em drest to your Din∣ner to make you more fat.
You are not of my dyet: would I had a young Loyne of Porke to my Supper, and two Loynes of a pretty sweete Christian after Supper.
Would thou mightst eate and choake.
Never at such meate; it goes downe without chaw∣ing.
Ha? your mouth gapes as if you would eate me: the King commanded she should be laden with Irons; I have laid two load upon her, then to pop her into the Dungeon, I
Page [unnumbered]
thrust downe as deepe as I could: then to give her no meate; Alas my cheekes cry out, I have meate little enough for my selfe: Three dayes and three nights has her Cubbard had no victuals in it: I saw no lesse than Fifty sixe Mice runne out of the hole she lies in, and not a crumme of bread or bit of cheese amongst them.
'Tis the better.
I heard her one morning cough pittifully, upon which I gave her a messe of Porredge piping-hot.
Thou Dog, 'tis death.
Nay but sir, I powr'd 'em downe scalding as they were on her head, because they say, they are good for a cold, and I thinke that kill'd her: for to try if she were alive or no, I did but even now tye a Crust to a packe-threed on a pinne, but shee leapt not at it; so that I am sure shee's wormes meate by this.
Kisse earth, why? and so many wenches come to the Iayle?
Farewell then.
Breaths shee?
No sir; her winde instrument is out of tune.
Call, cal.
Doe you heare, you low woman, hold not downe your head so for shame, creepe not thus into a corner, no honest woman loves to be fumbling thus in the darke: hang her she has no tongue.
Would twenty thousand of their sexe had none.
Foxe, Foxe, come out of your hole.
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Horrour, what's this?
Where is this piece of witchcraft?
'Tis vanish'd Sir.
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'Twas here, just at the Caves mouth, where shee lyes.
What manner of thing was it?
And all the ground under my heeles quak't like a Bogge.
Deluded slaves, these are turn'd Christians too.
The prisoners in my Iayle will not say so.
Turnd Christians? it has ever beene my profession to fang and clutch, and to squeeze: I was first a Varlet, then a Bumbaily, now an under Iailor turn'd Christian?
See, 'tis come agen.
It staggers me.
'Tis vanish'd Sir agen.
Meere Negromancy.
If all divels were no worse, would I were a∣mongst 'em.
Page [unnumbered]
To th' stake?
As Beares are?
She shall be gathred up.
What art thou?
An armed Christian.
What's thy name?
This is not she Sir.
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No Sir, mine owne hands stript her into rags.
For any meat shee has eaten, her face needes not make you doate, and for cleane linnen, Ile sweare, it was not brought into the Iaile, for there they scorne to shift once a weeke.
Oh horrible!
Bring tortures.
They mocke you.
He shall bee well shod for stroveling I warrant you.
Else stripes and death.
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Up with him.
Victoria yet save him.
Give him more Irons.
More, more.
I am going to live with a farre greater King.
Page [unnumbered]
Vexe him.
Doe more.
Heaven pardon you.
And strengthen him in all his sufferings.
Come, oh come, oh come away, A Quire of Angels for thee stay: A Rome where Diamonds borrow light, Open stands for thee this night. Night, no, no, here is ever day, Come, oh come, oh come, oh come away.
Doe, Ile follow thee.
Is he not yet dispatcht?
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Victory, victory, hell is beaten downe, The Martyr has put on a golden Crowne; Ring Bels of Heaven, him welcome hither, Circle him Angels round together.
Follow.
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She's dead Sir.
Dead?
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The King is strucke with thunder.
Strucke dead by thunder.
We know not, till we call the Lords together▪
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What Lords?
Our selves and others.
We stand on our owne strength.
Deliver to my hand that reverent man.
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Let us consult.
Doe, and doe't quickly.
Sound Drummes and Trumpets.
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How? turn'd Christian?
O blest King, happy day.
Must we forsake our gods then?
To that we all are willing.
With all our hearts.
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All joy and happinesse.