Scaene 5.
Enter two Servants preparing a Banquet.
1. Ser.
Beleeve me fellow here will be lusty drinking.
Many a washt pate in wine I warrant thee.
2 Ser.
I am glad the old Generall's come: upon my conscience
That joy will make half the Court drunk. Hark the Trumpets,
They are comming on; away.
1 Ser.
Wee'll have a rowse too. Exit.
Enter Duke, Archas, Burris, Boroskie, Attend. Gent,
Duk.
Come seat your selves: Lord Archas sit you there.
Ar.
'Tis farre above my worth.
Duke
Ile have it so:
Are all things ready?
Bor.
All the Guards are set,
The Coutt gates shut.
Duk.
Then doe as I prescrib'd yee.
Be sure no further.
Bor.
I shall well observe ye.
Du.
Come bring some wine: here's to my sister gentlemen;
A health, and mirth to all.
Ar.
Pray fill it full sir.
'Tis a high health to vertue: here Lord Burris,
A maiden health: you are most fit to pledge it,
You have a maiden soule, and much I honour it.
Passion o'me, ye are sad man.
Du.
How now Burris.
Goe to, no more of this.
Ar.
Take the rowse freely,
'Twill warme your bloud, and make ye fit for jollity.
Your graces pardon: when we get a cup sir,
We old men prate a pace.
Du.
Mirth makes a banque••;
As you love me no more.
Bur.
I thank your grace.
Give me it; Lord Boroskie.
Boros.
I have ill braines sir.
Bur.
Damnable ill, I know it.
Boros.
But Ile pledge sir
This vertuous health. Enter two Servants with Cloaks.
Bu.
The more unfit for thy mouth.
Du.
Come, bring out Robes, & let my guests look nobly,
Fit for my love, and presence: begin downward.
Off with your cloaks, take new.
Ar.
Your grace deales truely
Like a munificent Prince, with your poor subjects,
Who would not fight for you? what cold dull coward
Durst seek to save his life when you would aske it?
Begin a new health in your new adornments,
The Dukes, the Royall Dukes: ha, what have I got
Sir? ha! the robe of death!
Duke.
You have deserv'd it.
Ar.
The livorie of the grave? do you start all from me?
Doe I smell of earth already? Sir look on me,
And like a man; is this your entertainment?
Doe you bid your worthiest guests to bloudy Banquets.
Enter a Guard.
A Guard upon me too? this is too foule play
Boy to thy good, thine honour; thou wretched Ruler,
Thou sonne of fooles and flatterers, heire of hypocrites,
Am I serv'd in a hearse that sav'd ye all?
Are ye men or devills? doe ye gape upon me,
Wider, and swallow all my services?
Entombe them first, my faith next, then my integritie,
And let these struggle with your mangy mindes,
Your sear'd, and seal'd up consciences, till ye burst.
Boros.
These words are death.
Ar.
No those deeds that want rewards, sirrah,
Those Battells I have fought, those horrid dangers,
Leaner then death, and wilder then destruction,
I have march'd upon, these honour'd wounds, times story,
The bloud I have lost, the youth, the sorrowes suffer'd,
These are my death, these that can ne're be recompenced,
These that ye sit a brooding on like Toads,
Sucking from my deserts the sweets and favours,
And render me no pay againe but poisons.
Bor.
The proud vaine souldier thou hast set—
Ar.
Thou lyest.
Now by my little time of life lyest basely,
Malitiously and loudly: how I scorne thee?
If I had sweld the souldier, or intended
As act in person, leaning to dishonour,
As ye would faine have forced me, witnesse heaven,
Where clearest understanding of all truth is,
(For these are spightfull men, and know no piety)
When Olin came, grim Olin, when his marches,
His last Incursions made the City sweat,
And drove before him, as a storme drives Haile,
Such showrs of frosted fears, shook all your heart-strings;
Then when the Volga trembled at his terrour,
And hid his seven curl'd heads, afraid of bruising,
By his arm'd horses hoofes; had I been false then,
Or blowne a treacherous fire into the souldier,
Had but one sparke of villanie liv'd within me,
Ye'ad had some shadow for this black about me.
Where was your souldiership? why went not you out?
And all your right honourable valour with ye?
Why met ye not the Tartar, and defi'd him?
Drew your dead-doing sword, and buckl'd with him?
Shot through his Squadrons like a fierie Meteor?
And as we see a dreadfull clap of thunder
Rend the stiffe hearted Oakes, and tosse their roots up:
Why did not you so charge him? you were sick then,
You that dare taint my credit slipt to bed then,
Stewing and fainting with the feares ye had,
A whorson shaking fit opprest your Lordship:
Blush Coward knave, and all the world hisse at thee.
Duk.
Exceed not my command. Exit.
Bor.
I shall observe it. Exit.
Ar.
Are you gone too? Come weep not honest Burris,
Good loving Lord, no more teares: 'Tis not his malice,
This fellowes malice, nor the Dukes displeasure,
By bold bad men, crowded into his nature,
Can startle me: fortune ne're raz'd this Fort yet:
I am the same, the same man, living, dying;
The same mind to 'em both, I poize thus equall;
Onely the jugling way that told me to it,
The Judas way, to kisse me, bid me welcome,
And cut my throat, a little sticks upon me.
Farewell, commend me to his grace, and tell him,
The world is full of servants, he may have many:
And some I wish him honest: hee's undone else:
But such another doating Archas never,
So try'd and touch'd a faith: farewell for ever.
Bur.
Be strong my Lord: you must not go thus lightly.
Ar.
Now, what's to doe? what sayes the Law unto me?
Give me my great offence that speaks me guilty,
Bor.
Laying aside a thousand petty matters,