SCENE V.
Enter Duke, 2 Posts, Attendants, Gentlemen.
Du.
The Lord General sick now? is this a time
For men to creep into their Beds? What's become, Post,
Of my Lieutenant?
Post.
Beaten, and 't please your Grace,
And all his Forces sparkled.
Enter a Gentleman.
Du.
That's but cold news:
How now, what good news? are the Souldiers ready?
Ge.
Yes Sir, but sight they will not, nor stir from that place
They stand in now, unless they have Lord Archas
To lead 'em out; they rail upon this General,
And sing Songs of him, s••urvy Songs, to worse tunes:
And much they spare not you, Sir: here they swear
They'll stand and see the City burnt, and dance about it,
Unless Lord Archas come before they sight for't:
It must be so, Sir.
Du.
I could wish it so too;
And to that end I have sent Lord Burris to him;
But all I fear will fail; we must dye, Gentlemen,
And one stroke we'll have for't.
Enter Burris.
What bring'st thou, Burris?
Bur.
That I am loth to tell; he will not come, Sir;
I found him at his Prayers, there he tells me,
The Enemy shall take him, fit for Heaven:
I urg'd to him all our dangers, his own worths,
The Countries ruine; nay I kneel'd and pray'd him;
He shook his head, let fall a tear, and pointed
Thus with his finger to the Ground; a Grave
I think he meant; and this was all he answer'd.
Your Grace was much to blame:
Where's the new General?
Du.
He is sick, poor man.
Bur.
He's a poor man indeed, Sir:
Your Grace must needs go to the Souldier.
Du.
They have sent me word
They will not stir, they rail at me,
And all the spight they have—
Shout within.
What shout is that there?
Is the Enemy come so near?
Enter Archas, Olympia, and Alinda.
Olym.
I have brought him, Sir,
At length I have woo'd him thus far.
Du.
Happy Sister,
O blessed Woman!
Olym.
Use him nobly, Brother,
You never had more need: And Gentlemen,
All the best powers ye have, to tongues turn presently,
To winning and perswading tongues: all my art,
Only to bring him hither, I have utter'd;
〈◊〉〈◊〉 it be yours to arm him; And good my Lord,
Though I exceed the limit you allow'd me,
Which was the happiness to bring ye hither,
And not to urge ye farther; yet, see your Country,
Out of your own sweet Spirit now behold it:
Turn ••ound, and look upon the miseries,
On every side the fears; O see the dangers;
We find 'em soonest, therefore hear me first, Sir.
Du.
Next hear your Prince:
You have said you lov'd him, Archas,
And thought your life too little for his service;
Think not your vow too great now, now the time is,
And now you are brought to th' test, touch right now Souldier,
Now shew the manly pureness of thy mettle;
Now 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thou b••••st that valued man, that vertue,
That great ob••dience teaching all, now stand it.
What I have said forget, my youth was hasty,
And what you said your self forgive, you were an••••••.
If men could live without their faults, they were 〈…〉〈…〉
He weeps, and holds his hands up: to him, B••r••••s 〈◊〉〈◊〉
Bur.
You have shew'd the Prince his faults;
And like a good Surgeon you have laid
That to 'em makes 'em smart; he feels it,
Let 'em not fester now, Sir; your own honour,
The bounty of that mind, and your allegiance,
'Gainst which I take it, Heaven gives no Command, Sir,
Nor seals no Vow, can better teach ye now
What ye have to do, than I, or this necessity;
Only this little's left; would ye do nobly,
And in the Eye of Honour truly triumph?
Conquer that mind first, and then men are nothing.
Alin.
Last, a poor Virgin kneels; for loves sake General,
If ever you have lov'd; for her sake, Sir,
For your own honesty, which is a Virgin,
Look up, and pity us, be bold and fortunate,
You are a Knight, a good and noble Souldier,
And when your Spurs were given ye, your Sword buc••••••,
Then were you sworn for Vertues Cause, for Beaut••••s,
For Chastity to strike; strike now, they suffer;
Now draw your Sword, or else you are recreant,
Only a Knight i'th' Heels, i'th' Heart a Coward;
Your first Vow honour made, your last but anger.
〈◊〉〈◊〉
Ar.
How like my vertuous Wife this thing looks, sp••••••s
So would she chide my dulness: fair one, I thank ye.
My gracious Sir, your pardon, next your hand:
Madam, your favour, and your prayers: Gentlem••••,
Your wishes, and your loves: and pretty sweet one,
A favour for your Souldier.
Olymp.
Give him this, Wench.
Alin.
Thus do I tye on Victory.
Arc.
My Armour,
My Horse, my Sword, my tough Staff, and my Fortune,
And Olin now I come to shake thy glory.
Du.
Go, brave and prosperous, our loves go with th••••
Olymp.
Full of thy vertue, and our Prayers attend t••••••.
Bur.
&c. Loaden with Victory, and we to honour thee.
Alin.
Come home the Son of Honour,
And I'll serve ye.
Exeunt.