The loyal subject, or, The faithful general a play acted at the Theatre-Royal by Her Majesties servants / the authors, Mr. Beaumont and Mr. Fletcher ; with a preface.

ACT. IV.

Enter Olimpia with a Casket, and Alinda.

Al.

MAdam, the Duke has sent for the two Ladies.

Olim.

I prethee go: I know thy Thoughts are with him. Go, go Alinda, do not mock me more.

I have found thy Heart Wench, do not wrong thy Mistriss, Thy too much loving Mistriss: do not abuse her.

Al.

By your own fair Hands I understand you not.

Ol.

By thy own fair Eyes I understand thee too much, Too far, and build a Faith there thou hast ruind. Go, and enjoy thy Wish, thy Youth, thy Pleasure, Enjoy the Greatness no doubt he has promised, Enjoy the service of all Eyes that see thee, The Glory thou hast aim'd at, and the triumph: Only this last Love I ask, forget thy Mistress.

Al.

O, who has wrong'd me? who has ruin'd me? Poor wretched Girl, what poyson is flung on thee? Excellent Vertue, from whence flows this Anger?

Ol.

Go, ask my Brother, ask the Faith thou gav'st me, Ask all my Favours to thee, ask my Love, Last, thy forgetfulness of Good: then fly me, For we must part Alinda.

Al.

You are weary of me; I must confess, I was never worth your Service, Your bounteous Favours less; but that my Duty, My ready Will, and all I had to serve you— O Heaven thou know'st my Honesty.

Ol.

No more: Take heed, Heaven has a Justice: take this Ring with you, This doting Spell you gave me: too well Alinda, Thou know'st the Vertue in't; too well I feel it: Nay keep that too, it may sometimes remember you, When you are willing to forget who gave it, And to what Vertuous end.

Al.

Must I go from you? Of all the Sorrows sorrow has—must I part with you? Part with my noble Mistress?

Ol.

Or I with thee Wench.

Al.

And part stain'd with Opinion? Farewel Lady, Happy and Blessed Lady, goodness keep you: Thus your poor Servant full of Grief turns from you, For ever full of Grief, for ever from you. I have no being now, no Friends, no Country, I wander Heaven knows whither, Heaven knows how. No Life, now you are lost: only mine innocence, That little left me of my self, goes with me, That's all my Bread and Comfort. I confess Madam, Truly confess, the Duke has often courted me.

Ol.

And powr'd his Soul into thee, won thee.

Al.

Do you think so? Well, time that told this Tale, will tell my truth too, And say you had a faithful, honest Servant:

The business of my Life is now to pray for you, Pray for your Vertuous Loves; Pray for your Children, When Heaven shall make you happy.

Ol.

How she wounds me? Either I am undone, or she must go: take these with you, Some Toys may do you service; and this Money: And when you want, I Love you not so poorly, Not yet Alinda, that I would see you perish. Prethee be good, and let me hear: look on me, I Love those Eyes yet dearly; I have kiss'd thee, And now Ile do't again: farewel Alinda, I am too full to speak more, and too wretched.

Exit.

Al.

You have my Faith, And all the World my Fortune.

Exit.

SCENE II.

Enter Theodore.

The:

I would fain hear What becomes of these two Wenches: And if I can, I will do 'em good.

Enter Gentleman passing over the Stage.

Do you hear my honest Friend? He knows no such Name: What a World of business, Which by Interpretation are meer nothing, These things have here? 'Mass now I think on't better, I wish he be not sent for one of them To some of these By-lodgings: methought I saw A kind of Reference in his Face to Bawdery.

Enter Gentleman with a Gentlewoman passing over the Stage.

He has her, but 'tis none of them: hold fast thief: An excellent touzing Knave. Mistress You are to suffer your penance some half Hour hence now How far a fine Court Custard with Plumbs in it Will prevail with one of these waiting Gentlewomen, They are taken with these soluble things exceedingly; This is some Yeomen oth' Bottles now that has sent for her, That she calls Father: now woe to this Ale incense. By your leave Sir.

Enter a Servant.

Ser.

Well Sir; what's your pleasure with me?

The.

You do not know the way to the Maid's Lodgings?

Ser.

Yes indeed do I Sir,

The.

But you will not tell me?

Ser.

No indeed will not I, because you doubt it.

Exit.

Enter 2. Servant.

The.

These are fine Gim-cracks: hey, here comes another, A Bottle of Wine in's Hand, I take it. Well met my Friend, is that Wine?

2 Ser.

Yes indeed is it.

The.

Faith I'll drink on't then.

2 Ser.

Ye may, because ye have sworn, SIr.

The.

'Tis very good, I'll drink a great deal now, Sir.

2 Ser.

I cannot help it, Sir.

The.

I'll drink more yet.

2 Ser.

'Tis in your own Hands.

The.

There's your Bottle, I thank you. Pray let me drink again.

2 Ser.

Faith but ye shall not. Now have I sworn, I take it. Fare you well, Sir.

[Exit.

The.

This is the fin'st Place to live in I e'er ente'rd. Here comes a Gentlewoman, and alone; I'll to her. Madam, my Lord my Master —

[Enter Lady.

Lady.

Who's your Lord, Sir?

The.

The Lord Boroskie, Lady.

Lady.

Pray excuse me: Here's something for your Pains: within this hour, Sir, One of the choice young Ladies shall attend him: Pray let it be in that Chamber juts out to the Water; 'Tis private and convenient: Do my humble Service To my honourable good Lord, I beseech you, Sir; If it please you to visit a poor Lady — You carry the 'haviour of a noble Gentleman,

The.

I shall be bold.

Lady.

'Tis a good Aptness in you. I lye here in the Wood-yard, the blew Lodgings, Sir; They call me merrily the Lady of the — Sir; A little I know what belongs to a Gentleman, And if it please you take the Pains.

[Exit.

The.

Dear Lady, take the Pains? Why a Horse would not take the Pains that thou requir'st now, To cleave old Crab tree? One of the choice young Ladies! I would I had let this Bawd go, she has frighted me; I am cruelly afraid of one of my Tribe now; But if they will do, the Devil cannot stop 'em. Why should he have a young Lady? are Women now O' th' Nature of Bottles, to be stopt with Corks? O the thousand little Furies that fly here now! How now, Captain?

Enter Putskie.

Puts.

I come to seek you out, Sir, And all the Town I have travell'd.

The.

What's the News, Man?

Puts.

That, that concerns us all, and very nearly: The Duke this Night holds a great Feast at Court, To which he bids for Guests all his old Counsellors, And all his Favourites: your Father's sent for.

The.

Why he is neither in Coucil, nor in Favour.

Puts.

That's it: have an Eye now, or never, and a quick one, An Eye that must not wink from good-Intelligence. I heard a Bitd sing, they mean him no good Office.

The.

Art sure he sups here?

Enter Ancient.

Puts.

Sure as 'tis Day.

The.

'Tis like then: How now, where hast thou been, Ancient?

Anc.

Measuring the City: I have left my Brooms at the Gate here; By this time the Porter has stole 'em to sweep out Rascals.

The.

Brooms?

An.

I have been crying Brooms all the Town over, And such a Mart I have made, there's no Trade near it. O the young handsome Wenches, how they twitter'd, When they but saw me shake my Ware, and sing too; Come hither Master Broom-man I beseech you; Good Master Broom-man hither, cries another.

The.

Thou art a mad Fellow.

Anc.

They are all as mad as I: they all have Trades now, And roar about the Streets like Bull-beggars.

The.

What Company of Soldiers are there?

Anc.

By this means I have gather'd Above a thousand tall and hardy Soldiers, If need be, Colonel.

The.

That need's come, Ancient, And 'twas discreetly done: go, draw 'em up presently, But without Suspicion: this Night we shall need 'em; Let 'em be near the Court, let Putskie guide 'em; And wait me for Occasion: here I'll stay still.

Puts.

If it fall out we are ready; if not we are scatter'd: I'll wait you at an Inch.

The.

Do, farewell.

Exeunt.

Scene 3.

Enter Duke, Boroskie.

Du.

Are the Soldiers still so mutinous?

Bor.

More than ever. No Law nor Justice frights 'em: all the Town over They play new Pranks and Gambols: no Man's Person, Of what Degree soever, free from Abuses: And durst they do this, (let your Grace consider)

These monstrous, most offensive things, these Villanies, If not set on, and fed? if not by one They honour more than you? and more aw'd by him?

Du.

Happily their own Wants.

Boros.

I offer to supply 'em. And every Hour make Tender of their Moneys: They scorn it, laugh at me that offer it: I fear the next Device will be my Life, Sir; And willingly I'll give it, so they stay there.

Du.

Do you think Lord Archas privy?

Bor.

More than thought, I know it, Sir, I know they durst not do These violent rude things, abuse the State thus, But that they have a Hope by his Ambitions —

Du.

No more; he's sent for?

Bor.

Yes, and will be here sure.

Du.

Let me talk farther with you anon.

Bor.

I'll wait, Sir.

Du.

Did you speak to the Ladies?

Bor.

They'll attend your Grace presently.

Du.

How do you like 'em?

Bor.

My Eyes are too dull Judges. They wait here, Sir.

Exit.

Enter Honora and Viola.

Du.

Be you gone then: Come in, Ladies. Welcome to th' Court, sweet Beauties; now the Court shines, When such true Beams of Beauty strike amongst us: Welcome, welcome, even as your own Joys welcome. How do you like the Court? how seems it to you? Is't not a Place created for all Sweetness? Why were you made such Strangers to this Happiness? Barr'd the Delights this holds? The richest Jewels Set ne'er so well, if they're not worn to wonder, By judging Eyes not set off, lose their Lustre: Your Country Shades are faint; Blasters of Beauty; The Manners like the Place, obscure and heavy; The Rose-buds of your Beauties turn to Cankers, Eaten with inward Thoughts; whilst there you wander. Here, Ladies, here, you were not made for Cloisters, Here is the Sphere you move in: here shine nobly, And by your powerful Influence command all: What a sweet Modesty dwells round about 'em. And like a nipping Morn pulls in their Blossoms?

Hon.

Your Grace speaks cunningly, you do not this, I hope, Sir, to betray us; we are poor Triumphs; Nor can our Loss of Honour add to you, Sir: Great Men, and great Thoughts, seek things great and worthy, Subjects to make 'em live, and not to lose 'em;

Conquests so nobly won, can never perish. We are two simple Maids, untutor'd here, Sir; Two honest Maids, is that a Sin at Court, Sir? Our Breeding is Obedience, but to good things, To vertuous and to fair: what wou'd you win on us? Why do I ask that Question, when I have found you? Your Preamble has pour'd your Heart out to us; You would dishonour us; which in your Translation Here at the Court reads thus; Your Grace would love us, Most dearly love us; stick us up for Mistresses: Most certain, there are thousands of our Sex, Sir, That would be glad of this, and handsome Women, And crowd into this Favour, fair young Women, Excellent Beauties, Sir: When ye have enjoy'd 'em, And suckt those Sweets they have, what Saints are these then? What Worship have they won? what Name, you guess, Sir, What Story added to their time, a sweet one?

Du.

A brave spirited Wench.

Hon.

I'll tell your Grace, And tell you true, you are deceiv'd in us two, Extremely cozen'd, Sir: And yet in my Eye You are the handsom'st Man I ever lookt on, The goodliest Gentleman; take that hope with you; And were I fit to be your Wife (so much I honour you) Trust me I would scratch for you but I would have you I would wooe you then.

Du.

She amazes me: But how am I deceiv'd?

Hon.

O we are too honest, Believe it, Sir, too honest, far too honest, The way that you propound too ignorant, And there is no medling with us; for we are Fools too, Obstinate, peevish Fools. If I would be ill, And had a Wanton's Itch, to kick my Heels up, I would not leap into th' Sun, and do't there, That all the World might see me: an obscure Shade, Sir, Dark as the Deed, there is no trusting Light with it, Nor that that's lighter far, vain-glorious Greatness.

Du.

You will love me as your Friend?

Hon.

I will honour you, As your poor humble Handmaid, serve and pray for you.

Du.

What says my little one; you are not so obstinate? Lord, how she blushes! here are truly fair Souls: Come, you will be my Love?

Viol.

Good Sir be good to me, Indeed I'll do the best I can to please you;

I do beseech your Grace: Alas, I fear you.

Du.

What shouldst thou fear?

Hon.

Fie, Sir, this is not noble.

Du.

Why do I stand entreating, where my Power —

Hon.

You have no Power, at least you ought to have none In bad and beastly things: arm'd tnus, I'll die here, Before she suffer wrong.

Du.

Another Archas?

Hon.

His Child, Sir, and his Spirit.

Du.

I'll deal with you then, For here's the Honour to be won: sit down, Sweet, Prithee, Honora, sit.

Hon.

Now ye intreat I will, Sir.

Du.

I do, and will deserve it.

Hon.

That's too much Kindness.

Du.

Prithee look on me.

Hon.

Yes, I love to see you, And could look an Age thus, and admire you: Whilst you are good and temperate, I dare touch you, Kiss your whlte Hand.

Du.

Why not my Lips?

Hon.

I dare, Sir.

Du.

I do not think ye dare.

Ho.

I am no Coward. Do you believe me now? or now? or now, Sir? You make me blush; but sure I mean no ill, Sir: It had been fitrer you had kiss'd me.

Du.

That I'll do too. What hast thou wrought into me?

Hon.

I hope all Goodness: Whilst ye are thus, thus honest, I dare do any thing, Thus hang about your Neck, and thus doat on you; Bless those fair Lights: Hell take me if I durst not — But, good Sir; pardon me. Sister come hither, Come hither, fear not, Wench; come hither, blush not, Come kiss the Prince, the vertuous Prince. the good Prince:

Du.

Thou wilt make me—

Hon.

Sit down, and hug him softly.

Du.

Fie, Honoira, Wanton Honoira; is this the Modesty, The noble Chastity your on-set shew'd me, At first Charge beaten back? Away.

Hon.

Thank you: Upon my Knees I pray, Heaven too may thank you; Ye have deceiv'd me cunningly, yet nobly You have cozen'd me: In all your hopeful Life yet, A Scene of greater Honour you ne'er acted: I knew Fame was a Liar, too long, and loud tongu'd, And now I have found it: O my vertuous Master!

Viol.

My vertuous Master too.

Hon.

Now you are thus,

What shall become of me let Fortune cast for't.

Du.

I'll be that Fortune, if I live, Honoira; Thou hast done a Cure upon me, Counsel could not.

Enter Alinda.

Al.

Here take your Ring, Sir, and whom you mean to ruine, Give it to her next; I have paid for't dearly.

Hon.

A Ring to her?

Du.

Why frowns my fair Alinda? I have forgot both these again.

Aside.

Al.

Stand still, Sir, Ye have that violent killing Fire upon you, Consumes all Honour, Credit, Faith.

Hon.

How's this?

Al.

My Royal Mistress's Favour towards me, Wo-worth you, Sir, you have poison'd, blasted.

Du.

I, Sweet?

Al.

You have taken that unmanly Liberty, Which in a worse Man is vain-glorious feigning, And kill'd my Truth.

Du.

Upon my Life 'tis false, Wench.

Al.

Ladies, Take heed, ye have a cunning Gamester, A handsome, and a high; come stor'd with Antidotes, He has Infections else will fire your Bloods.

Du.

Prithee, Alinda, hear me.

Al.

Words steept in Honey, That will so melt into your Minds, buy Chastity A thousand ways, a thousand Knots to tie you; And when he has bound you his, a thousand Ruins. A poor lost Woman you have made me.

Du.

I'll maintain thee, And nobly too.

Al.

That Gin's too weak to take me: Take heed, take heed, young Ladies; still take heed, Take heed of Promises, take heed of Gifts, Of forced feigned Sorrows, Sighs, take heed.

Du.

By all that's mine, Alinda —

Al.

Swear By your Mischiefs: O whither shall I go?

Du.

Go back again, I'll force her take thee, love thee.

Al.

Fare you well, Sir, I will not curse you; only this dwell with you, When ever you love, a false Belief light on you.

Exit.

Hon.

We'll take our leaves too, Sir.

Du.

Part all the World now, Since she is gone.

Hon.

You are crooked yet, dear Master, And still I fear —

Exeunt.

Du.

I am vex'd, And some shall find it.

Exit.

Scene 4.

Enter Archas and a Servant.

Ar.

'Tis strange To me to see the Court, and welcome: O Royal Place, how have I lov'd and serv'd thee? Who lies on this side, know'st thou?

Ser.

The Lord Burris.

Ar.

Thou hast nam'd a Gentleman I stand much bound to. I think he sent the Casket, Sir?

Ser.

The same, Sir.

Ar.

An honest minded Man, a noble Courtier: The Duke made perfect Choice when he took him: Go you home, I shall hit the way Without a Guide now.

Ser.

You may want something, Sir.

Ar.

Only my Horses, Which after Supper let the Groom wait with: I'll have no more Attendance here.

Ser.

Your Will, Sir?

Exit.

Enter Theodore.

The.

You are well met here, Sir.

Ar.

How now, Boy, How do'st thou?

The.

I should ask You that Question: how do you, Sir? How do you feel your self?

Ar.

Why, well and lusty.

The.

What do you here then?

Ar.

Why, I am sent for To Supper with the Duke.

The.

Have you no Meat at home? Or do you long to feed as hunted Deer do, In Doubt and Fear?

Ar.

I have an excellent Stomach, And can I use it better Than among my Friends, Boy? How do the Wenches?

The.

They do well enough, Sir, They know the worst by this time. Pray be rul'd, Sir,

Go home again; and if you have a Supper, Eat it in quiet there: This is no Place for you, Especially at this time, Take my Word for't.

Ar.

May be they'll drink hard; I could have drank my share, Boy. Though I am old, I will not out.

The.

I hope you will. Hark in your Ear: the Court's Too quick of hearing.

Ar.

Not mean me well? Thou art abus'd and cozen'd. Away, away.

The.

To that end, Sir, I tell you. Away, if you love your self.

Ar.

Who dare do these things, That ever heard of Honesty?

The.

Old Gentleman, Take a Fool's Counsel.

Ar.

'Tis a Fool's indeed; A very Fool's: thou hast more of These Flams in thee, these musty Doubts: Is't fit the Duke send for me, And honour me to eat within his Presence, And I, like a tall Fellow, play at bo-peep With his Pleasure?

The.

Take heed Of bo-peep with your Pate, your Pate, Sir; I speak plain Language now.

Ar.

If 'twere not here, Where Reverence bids me hold, I would so swinge thee, thou rude, Unmanner'd Knave; take from his Bounty, His Honour that he gives me, to beget Sawcy and sullen Fears?

The.

You are not mad sure: By this fair Light, I speak But what it whisper'd, And whisper'd for a Truth.

Ar.

A Dog: drunken People, That in their Pot see Visions, And turn States, Mad-men and Children: Prithee do not follow me; I tell thee I am angry: Do not follow me.

The.

I am as angry

As you for your Heart. I and wilful too: go, like a Woodcock, And thrust your Neck ith' noose.

Ar.

Ile kill thee. And thou speak'st but three words more. Do not follow me.

Exit.

The.

A strange old foolish Fellow: I shall hear yet, And if I do not my part hiss at me.

Exit.

SCENE V.

Enter two Servants preparing a Banquet.

1. Ser.

Believe me Fellow here will be lusty drinking. Many a washt Pate in Wine I warrant thee.

2. Serv.

I am glad the old General's come: upon my conscience That joy will make half the Court drunk. Hark the Trumpet, They are coming on; away.

1 Ser.

We'll have a Rowse too.

Exit.

Enter Duke, Archas, Burris, Borosky, attend Gentlemen:

Duk.

Come seat your selves: Lord Archas sit you there,

Ar.

'Tis far above my worth.

Duk.

Ile have it so: Are all things ready?

Bor.

All the Guards are set, The Court Gates shut.

Duk.

Then do as I prescrib'd you. Be sure no further.

Bor.

I shall well observe you.

Duk.

Come bring some Wine: here's to my Sister Gentlemen; A Health, and much to all.

Ar.

Pray fill it full Sir. 'Tis a high Health to Vertue: here Lord Burris, A Maiden Health: you are more fit to pledge it, You have a Maiden Soul, and much I honour it. Passion o' me, you are sad Man.

Du.

How now Burris. Go to, no more of this.

Ar.

Take the Rowse freely. 'Twill warm your Blood, and make you fit for jollity. Your Graces Pardon: when we get a Cup Sir, We old Men prate a pace.

Du.

Mirth makes a Banquet; As you love me no more.

Bur.

I thank your Grace. Give me it; Lord Borosky.

Boros.

I have ill Brains Sir.

Bur.

Damnable ill, I know it.

Boros.

But Ile pledge Sir This vertuous Health.

Enter a Servant with Mourning Cloak.

Bu.

The more unfit for thy Mouth.

Du.

Come, bring out Robes, and let my guests look nobly, Fit for my Love and Presence: begin downward. Off with your Cloaks, take new.

Ar.

Your Grace deals truly 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 ask it? Begin a new Health in your new Adornments, The Dukes, the Royal Dukes: ah, what have I got Sir? ah! the robe of Death!

Duk.

You have deserv'd it.

Ar.

The Livery of the Grave? do you start all from me? Do I smell of Earth already? Sir look on me, And like a Man; is this your Entertainment? Do you bid your worthiest Guests to bloody Banquets.

Enter a Guard.

A Guard upon me too? this is too foul play Boy to thy good, thine Honour; thou wretched Ruler, Thou Son of Fools and Flatterers, Heirs of Hypocrites, Am I serv'd in a Hearse that sav'd you all? Are you Men or Devils? do you gape upon me, Wider, and swallow all my Services? Entomb them first, my Faith next, then my Integrity, And let these stuggle with your mangy Minds, Your sear'd, and seal'd up Consciences, till you burst.

Boros.

These words are Death.

Ar.

No those Deeds that want rewards, Sirrah, Those Battles 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 Blood I have lost, the Youth, the Sorrows suffer'd, These are my death, these that can n'er be recompenc'd, These that you sit a brooding on like Toads, Sucking from my Deserts the Sweets and Favours, And render me no pay again but Poisons.

Bor.

The proud vain Soldier thou hast set—

Ar.

Thou lyest. Now by my little time of Life lyest basely, Malitiously and loudly: how I scorn thee? If I had sweld the Soldier, or intended An Act in Person, leaning to dishonour, As you would fain have forced me, witness Heaven, Where clearest understanding of all Truth is,

(For these are spightful 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 Storm drives Hail, Such showers of frosted Fears, shook all your Heart-strings; Then when the Volga trembled at his Terror, And hid his seven curl'd Heads, afraid of brusing, By his arm'd Horses Hoofs; had I been false then, Or blown a treacherous fire into the Soldier, Had but one spark of Villany 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 you? Why met you not the Tartar, and defi'd him? Drew your dead doing Sword, and buckl'd with him? Shot through his Squadrons like a fiery Meteor? And as we see a dreadful clap of Thunder Rend the stiff hearted Oaks, and toss 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 Fears you had, A whorson shaking fit opprest your Lordship: Blush Coward knave, and all the World hiss 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 Tears: 'tis not his Malice, This Fellow's Malice, nor the Duke's Displeasure, By bold bad Men, crowded into his Nature, Can startle me: Fortune ne'er raz'd this Fort yet: I am the same, the same Man, living, dying; The same Mind to 'em both, I poize thus equal; Only the Jugling way that told me to it, The Judas way, to kiss me, bid me welcome, And cut my Throat, a little Sticks upon me. Farwel, commend me to his Grace, and tell him, The World is full of Servants, he may have many: And some I wish him honest: he's undone else: But such another doating Archas never, So try'd and touch'd a Faith: farewel for ever.

Bur.

Be strong my Lord: you must not go thus lightly.

Ar.

Now what's to do? what says the Law unto me? Give me my great Offence that speaks me guilty,

Bor.

Laying aside a thousand petty Matters, As Scorns and Insolencies, both from your self and followers, Which you put first fire to, and these are deadly,

I come to one main Cause, which though it carries A Strangeness in the Circumstance, it carries Death too, Not to be pardon'd neither: you have done a Sacrilege.

Ar.

High Heaven defend me Man: how, how Borosky?

Bor.

You have took from the Temple those vow'd Arms, The holy Ornament you hung up there, No absolution of your Vow, no order From Holy Church to give 'em back unto you After they were purified from War, and rested From Blood, made clean by Ceremony: from the Alta You snatch'd 'em up again, again you wore 'em, Again you stain'd 'em, stain'd your Vow, the Church too, And rob'd it of that right was none of yours Sir, For which the Law requires your Head, you know it.

Ar.

Those Arms I fought in last?

Bor.

The same.

Ar.

God a Mercy, Thou hast hunted out a notable Cause to kill me: A Subtle one: I dye, for saving all you; Good Sir remember if you can, the Necessity, The suddainness of Time, the Stage all stood in; I was entreated to, kneel'd to, and pray'd to, The Duke himself, the Princes, all the Nobles, The cries of Infants, bedrid Fathers, Virgins; Prethee find out a better Cause, a handsomer, This will undo thee too: People will spit at thee, The Devil himself would be asham'd of this Cause; Because my haste made me forget the Ceremony; The present danger every where, must my life satisfie?

Bor.

It must and shall.

Ar.

O base ungrateful People, Have you no other Sword to cut my Throat with But mine own nobleness? I confess, I took 'em, The Vow not yet absolv'd, I hung em up with: Wore 'em, fought in 'em, gilded 'em again In the fierce Tartars Blood; for you I took 'em, For your peculiar safety, Lord, for all, I wore 'em for my Countries Health, that gron'd then: Took from the Temple, to preserve the Temple, That Holy Place, and all the Sacred Monuments, The reverent shrines of Saints, ador'd and honour'd, Had been consum'd to Ashes, their own Sacrifice, Had I been slack, or staid that Absolution, No Priest had liv'd to give it; my own Honour Cure of my Country murder me?

Bor.

No, no Sir, I shall force that from you, will make this cause light too,

Away with him: I shall pluck down that Heart Sir.

Ar.

Break it thou may'st; but if it bend, for pity; Dogs and Kites eat it: come, I am Honours Martyr.

Exit.

SCENE VI.

Enter Duke and Burris.

Du.

Exceed my Warrant?

Bur.

You know he loves him not.

Du.

He dares as well meet Death as do it, eat Wildfire; Through a few Fears I mean to try his goodness, That I may find him fit to wear, here Burris; I know Borosky hates him, to Death hates him, I know he's a Serpent too, a swoln one

Noise within.

But I have pull'd his Sting out; what noise is that?

The.

Within.

Down with 'em, down with the Gates.

Sold.

Within.

Stand, stand, stand.

Puts.

Within.

Fire the Palace before ye.

Bur.

Upon my Life the Soldier, Sir, the Soldier, A miserable time is come.

Enter Gent.

Gent.

O save him, Upon my Knees, my hearts Knees, save Lord Archas, We are undone else.

Du.

Dares he touch his Body?

Gent.

He racks him fearfully, most fearfully.

Du.

Away Burris, Take Men, and take him from him; clap him up, And if I live, I'll find a strange Death for him:

Ex. Bur.

Are the Soldiers broke in?

Gent.

By this time sure they, are Sir, They beat the Gates extreamly, beat the People.

Du.

Get me a Guard about me: make sure the Lodgings, And speak the Soldiers fair.

Gent.

Pray Heaven that take Sir.

Exit.

Enter Putsky, Ancient, Soldiers with Torches.

Put.

Give us the General, we'll fire the Court else, Render him safe and well,

An.

Do not fire the Cellar, There's excellent Wine in't, Captain, and though it be cold weather, I do not love it mull'd: bring out the General, We'll light you, such a Bonfire else; where are you? Speak, or we'll toss your Turrets, peep out of your Hives We'll smoak you else: is not that a Nose there? Put out that Nose again, and if thou dar'st But blow it before us: now he creeps out on's Burrough.

Puts.

Give us the General.

Enter Gent.

Gent.

Yes, Gentlemen;

Or any thing you can desire.

Anc.

You Musk-cat Cordevan-skin, we will not take your answer.

Put.

Where is the Duke? speak suddenly and send him hither.

Anc.

Or we'll so fry your Buttocks.

Gent.

Good sweet Gentlemen —

Anc.

We are neither good, nor sweet, we are Soldiers And you Miscreants that abuse the General, Give fire my Boys 'tis a dark Evening, Let's light 'em to their Lodgings.

Enter Olimpia, Honora, Viola, Theodore, Women.

Hon.

Good Brother be not fierce.

The.

I will not hurt her, Fear not sweet Lady.

Ol.

May do what you please Sir, I have a Sorrow that exceeds all yours, And more, contemns all danger.

Enter Duke above.

The.

Where is the Duke?

Du.

He's here; what would you Soldiers? wherefore troop ye Like mutinous Mad-men thus?

The.

Give me my Father.

Put.

Anc. Give us our General.

The.

Set him here before us, You see the Pledge we have got; you see these Torches; All shall to Ashes, as I live, immediately, A thousand lives for one.

Du.

But hear me?

Put.

No, we come not to dispute.

Enter Archas and Bur.

The.

By Heaven I swear he's rackt and whipt.

Hon.

O my poor Father!

Put.

Burn, kill and burn.

Ar.

Hold, hold I say: hold Soldiers, On your Allegiance hold.

The.

We must not.

Ar.

Hold: I swear by Heaven he is a barbarous Traitor stirs first, A Villan, and a Stranger to Obedience, Never my Soldier more, nor Friend to honour: Why did you use your old Man thus? thus cruelly Torture his poor weak Body? I ever lov'd you.

Du.

Forget me in these wrongs, most noble Archas.

Ar.

I have blame enough for all my hurts: weep no more Sir, A Satisfaction for a thousand Sorrows: I do believe you innocent, a good Man, And Heaven forgive that naughty thing that wrong'd me. Why look you wild my Friends? why stare you on me? I charge you as you are Men, my Men, my Lovers,

As you are honest faithful Men, fair Soldiers, Let down your Anger: Is not this our Soveraign, The Head of Mercy and of Law? who dares then, But Rebels scorning Law, appear thus violent? Is this a place for Swords? for threatning Fires? The Reverence of this House dares any touch, But with obedient Knees, and pious Duties? Are not we all his Subjects? all sworn to him? Has not he power to punish our Offences? And not we daily fall into 'em? assure your selves I did offend and highly, grievously, This good sweet Prince I offended, my Life forfeited, Which yet his Mercy, and his old Love met with, And only let me feel his light Rod this way: You are to thank him for your General, Pray for his Life, and Fortune: sweat your Bloods for him. You are Offenders too, daily Offenders, Proud Insolencies dwell in your Hearts, and you do 'em, Do 'em against his Peace, his Law, his Person; You see he only Sorrows for your Sins, And where his Power might persecute, forgives you: For shame put up your Swords, for honesty, For orders sake and whose you are, my Soldiers, Be not so rude.

The.

They have drawn Blood from you Sir.

Ar.

That was the Blood rebel'd, the naughty Blood, The proud provoking Blood; 'tis well 'tis out Boy; Give you example first; draw out, and orderly.

Hon.

Good Brother do

Ar.

Honest and high Example, As thou wilt have my Blessing follow thee, Inherit all mine Honours: thank you Theodore, My worthy Son.

The.

If harm come, thank your self Sir; I must obey you.

Exit.

Ar.

Captain, you know the way now: A good Man, and a valiant; you were ever, Inclin'd to honest things: I thank you Captain.

Ex. Soul.

Souldiers, I thank you all: and love me still, But do not love me so to lose Allegiance, Love that above your lives: once more I thank you.

Du.

Bring him to rest, and let our Cares wait on him; Thou excellent old Man, thou top of honour, Where Justice and Obedience only build, Thou stock of Vertue, how am I bound to love thee? In all thy noble ways to follow thee?

Bur.

Rememember him that vext him Sir,

Du.

Remember! When I forget that Villany, and to pay him For all his mischiefs, may all good thoughts forget me

Ar.

I am very sore,

Du.

Bring him to bed with ease Gentlemen, For every strip Ile drop a tear to wash 'em, And in my sad Repentance—

Ar.

'Tis too much, I have a Life yet left to gain that Love Sir.

Exeunt.