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. V.

Enter Duke, Burris, and Gentlemen.

Duk.

HOW do's Lord Archas yet?

Bur.

But weak an't please you, Yet all the helps that Art can, are applied to him; His Heart's untouch'd, and whole yet; and no doubt Sir, His Mind being sound, his Body soon will follow.

Duk.

O that base Knave that wrong'd him, without leave too; But I shall find an Hour to give him thanks for't; He's fast I hope?

Bur.

As fast as Irons can keep him: But the most fearful wretch—

Du.

He has a Conscience, A cruel stinging one I warrant him, A loaden one: But what news of the Soldiers? I did not like their parting, 'twas too sullen.

Bur.

That they keep still, and I fear a worse clap: They are drawn out of the Town, and stand in Counsels, Hatching unquiet Thoughts, and cruel Purposes: I went my self unto 'em, talk'd with the Captains, Whom I found fraught with nothing but loud Murmurs, And desperate Curses, sounding these words often Like Trumpets to their Angers: we are ruin'd, Our Services turn'd to Disgraces, Mischiefs, Our brave old General, like one had pilfer'd, Tortur'd and whipt: the Colonel's Eyes like Torches, Blaze every where and fright fair Peace.

Gent.

Yet worse Sir: The News is currant now, they mean to leave you, Leave their Allegiance: and under Olins charge The bloody Enemy march strait against you.

Bur.

I have heard this too, Sir:

Du.

This must be prevented, And suddenly, and warily.

Bur.

'Tis time, Sir, But what to minister, or how?

Du.

Go in with me, And there we'll think upon't: such Blows as these, Equal Defences ask, else they displease.

Exeunt.

Scene 2.

Enter Petesca, and Gentlewoman.

Pet.

Lord, what a Coile has here been with these Soldiers? They are cruel Fellows.

Wo.

And yet methought we found 'em Handsome enough; I'll tell thee true, Petesca, I look'd for other manner of Dealings from 'em, And had prepar'd my self; but where's my Lady?

Pet.

In her old Dumps within; monstrous melancholy; Sure she was mad of this Wench.

Wo.

If she had been a Man, She would have been a great deal madder, I am glad she is shifted.

Pet.

'Twas a wicked thing for me to betray her, And yet I must confess she stood in our Lights.

Enter Alinda:

What young thing's this?

Al.

Good morrow beauteous Gentlewomen: Pray you is the Princess stirring yet?

Wo.

He has her Face.

Pet.

Her very Tongue, and Tone too; her Youth upon him.

Al.

I guess you to be the Princess's Women.

Pet.

Yes, we are, Sir.

Al.

Pray is there not a Gentlewoman waiting on her Grace, You call Alinda?

Pet.

The Devil sure in her shape.

Wo.

I have heard her tell my Lady of a Brother, An only Brother that she had: in Travel —

Pet.

'Mass, I remember that: this may be he too: I would this thing would serve her.

Enter Olimpia.

Wo.

So would I, Wench, We should love him better sure: Sir, here's the Princess, She best can satisfie you.

Al.

How I love that Presence! O blessed Eyes, how nobly shines your Comforts!

Ol.

What Gentleman is that?

Wo.

We know not, Madam: He ask'd us for your Grace: and as we guess it, He is Alinda's Brother.

Ol.

Ha! let me mark him: My Grief has almost blinded me: her Brother! By Venus, he has all her Sweetness upon him: Two silver drops of Dew were never liker.

Al.

Gracious Lady —

Ol.

That pleasant Pipe he has too.

Al.

Being my Happiness to pass by this way, And having, as I understand by Letters, A Sister in your vertuous Service, Madam —

Ol.

O now my Heart, my Heart akes.

Al.

All the Comfort My poor Youth has, all that my Hopes have built me, I thought it my first Duty, my best Service Here to arrive first, humbly to thank your Grace For my poor Sister, humbly to thank your Nobleness, That bounteous Goodness in you.

Ol.

'Tis he certainly.

Al.

That Spring of Favour to her: with my Life, Madam, If any such most happy Means might meet me, To shew my Thankfulness.

Ol.

What have I done, Fool?

Al.

She came a Stranger to your Grace, no Courtier; Nor of that curious Breed befits your Service; Yet one, I dare assure my Soul, that lov'd you Before she saw you; doated on your Vertues; Before she knew those fair Eyes long'd to read 'em. You only had her Prayers, you her Wishes; And that one Hope to be yours once, preserv'd her,

Ol.

I have done wickedly.

Al.

A little Beauty, Such as a Cottage breeds, she brought along with her; And yet our Country-eyes esteem'd it much too: But for her beauteous Mind, forget, great Lady, I am her Brother, and let me speak a Stranger: Since she was able to beget a Thought, 'twas honest, The daily Study how to fit your Services, Truly to tread that vertuous Path you walk in, So fir'd her honest Soul, we thought her Sainted; I presume she is still the same: I would fain see her; For, Madam, 'tis no little Love I owe her.

Ol.

Sir, such a Maid there was, I had —

Al.

There was, Madam?

Ol.

O my poor Wench: Eyes, I will ever curse you For your Credulity, Alinda.

Al.

That's her Name, Madam,

Ol.

Give me a little leave, Sir, to lament her.

Al.

Is she dead, Lady?

Ol.

Dead, Sir, to my Service. She is gone, pray ask me no farther.

Al.

I obey, Madam: Gone? now must I lament too: said you gone, Madam?

Ol.

Gone, gone for ever.

Al.

That's a cruel Saying: Her Honour too?

Ol.

Prithee look angry on me, And if thou ever lovedst her, spit upon me; Do something like a Brother, like a Friend, And do not only say thou lov'st her —

Al.

You amaze me.

Ol.

I ruin'd her, I wrong'd her, I abus'd her; Poor innocent Soul, I flung her; sweet Alinda, Thou vertuous Maid, my Soul now calls thee vertuous. Why do ye not rail now at me?

Al.

For what, Lady?

Ol.

Call me base treacherous Woman.

Al.

Heaven defend me.

Ol.

Rashly I thought her false, and put her from me, Rashly, and madly I betray'd her Modesty, Put her to wander, Heaven knows where; nay, more, Sir, Stuck a black Brand upon her.

Al.

'Twas not well, Lady.

Ol.

'Twas damnable; she loving me so dearly, Never poor Wench lov'd so: Sir, believe me, 'Twas the most dutious Wench, the best Companion; When I was pleas'd, the happiest, and the gladdest, The modestest sweet Nature dwelt within her: I saw all this, I knew all this, I lov'd it, I doated on it too, and yet I kill'd it: O what have I forsaken? what have I lost?

Al.

Madam, I'll take my leave, since she is wandring, 'Tis fit I know no rest.

Ol.

Will you go too, Sir? I have not wrong'd you yet, if you dare trust me, For yet I love Alinda there, I honour her, I love to look upon those Eyes that speak her, To read that Face again, Modesty keep me, Alinda, in that shape: but why should you trust me, 'Twas I betray'd your Sister, I undid her; And believe me, gentle Youth, 'tis I weep for her: Appoint what Penance you please: but stay then, And see me perform it: ask what Honour this Place Is able to heap on you, or what Wealth: If following me will please you, my Care of you,

Which for your Sister's sake, for your own Goodness —

Al.

Not all the Honour-Earth has, now she's gone, Lady, Not all the Favour; yet if I sought Preferment, Under your bounteous Grace I would only take it. Peace rest upon you: one sad Tear every Day For poor Alinda's sake, 'tis fit you pay.

Exit.

Ol.

A thousand, noble Youth; and when I sleep, Even in my silver Slumbers still I'll weep.

Exit.

Scene 3.

Enter Duke and Gentlemen.

Du.

Have you been with 'em?

Gent.

Yes, an't please your Grace, But no Persuasion serves 'em, nor no Promise, They are fearful angry, and by this time, Sir, Upon their March to the Enemy.

Du.

They must be stopt.

Enter Burris.

Gent.

I, but what Force is able? and what Leader!—

Du.

How now, have you been with Archas?

Bur.

Yes, and't please you, And told him all: he frets like a chaf'd Lyon, And calls for his Arms, and all those honest Courtiers That dare draw Swords.

Du.

Is he able to do any thing?

Bur.

His Mind is well enough; and where his Charge is, Let him be ne'er so sore, 'tis a full Army.

Du.

Who commands the Rebels?

Bur.

The young Colonel, That makes the old Man almost mad: he swears, Sir, He will not spare his Son's Head for the Dukedom.

Du.

Is the Court in Arms?

Bur.

As fast as they can bustle, Every Man mad to go now: inspir'd strangely, As if they were to force the Enemy. I beseech your Grace to give me leave.

Du.

Pray go, Sir, And look to the old Man well; take up all fairly, And let no Blood be spilt; take general Pardons, And quench this Fury with fair Peace.

Bur.

I shall, Sir, Or seal it with my Service; they are Villains; The Court is up: good Sir, go strengthen 'em, Your Royal Sight will make 'em scorn all Dangers; The General needs no Proof.

Du.

Come, let's go view 'em.

Exeunt.

SCENE 4.

Enter Theodore, Putskie, Ancient, Soldiers, with Drums and Colours.

The.

'Tis known we are up, and marching: no ••ubmission, No Promise of base Peace can cure our Maladies, We have suffer'd beyond all Repair of Honour: Your valiant old Man's whipt; whipt, Gentlemen, Whipt like a Slave: that Flesh that never trembled, Nor shrunk one Sinew at a thousand Charges; That noble Body rib'd in Arms, the Enemy So often shook at, and then shunn'd like Thunder, That Body's torn with Lashes.

Anc.

Let's turn Head.

Put.

Turn nothing, Gentlemen, let's march on fairly, Unless they charge us.

The.

Think still of his Abuses, And keep your Angers.

Anc.

He was whipt like a Top, I never saw a Whore so lac'd: Court School butter? Is this their Diet? I'll dress 'em one running Banquet: What Oracle can alter us? Did not we see him? See him we lov'd?

The.

And though we did obey him, Forc'd by his Reverence for that time, is't fit, Gentlemen? My noble Friends, is't fit we Men, and Soldiers, Live to endure this, and look on too?

Put.

Forward: They may call back the Sun as soon, stay Time, Prescribe a Law to Death, as we endure this.

The.

They will make you all fair Promises.

Anc.

We care not.

The.

Use all their Arts upon you.

Anc.

Hang all their Arts.

Put.

And happily they'll bring him with 'em.

Anc.

March apace then, He is old and cannot overtake us.

Put.

Say he do.

Anc.

We'll run away with him: they shall never see him more: The Truth is, we'll hear nothing, stop at nothing, Consider nothing but our way; believe nothing, Not though they say their Prayers: be content with nothing, But the knocking our their Brains: and last, do nothing, But ban 'em and curse 'em, till we come to kill 'em.

The.

Remove them forwards bravely; keep your Minds whole, And the next time we face 'em, shall be fatal.

Exeunt.

SCENE V.

Enter Archas, Duke, Burris, Gentlemen, and Soldiers.

Ar.

Peace to your Grace; take rest, they are before us.

Gent.

They are, Sir, and upon the March.

[Ex. Du.

Ar.

Lord Burris, Take you those Horse and coast 'em: upon the first Advantage, If they will not slack their March, charge 'em up roundly, By that time I'll come in.

Bur.

I'll do it truly.

[Exit.

Gent.

How do you feel your self, Sir?

Ar.

Well, I thank you; A little weak, but Anger shall supply that. You will all stand bravely to it?

All.

Whilst we have Lives, Sir.

Ar.

You speak like Gentlemen; I'll make the Knaves know, The proudest and the strongest hearted Rebel, They have a Law to live in, and they shall have; Beat up a-pace, by this time he is upon 'em, And Sword, but hold me now, thou shalt play ever.

[Ex.

Enter Drums beating, Theodore, Putskie, Ancient, and their Soldiers.

The.

Stand, stand, stand close and sure; The Horse will charge us.

[Enter Bur. and 1 or 2 Soldiers.

Anc.

Let 'em come on, we have Provender fit for 'em.

Put.

Here comes Lord Burris, Sir, I think to parley.

The.

You are welcome, noble Sir, I hope to our part.

Bur.

No, valiant Colonel, I am come to chide you, To pity you; to kill you, if these fail me; Fie, what Dishonour seek you? What black Infamy! Why do you draw out thus? draw all Shame with you? Are these fit Cares in Subjects? I command you Lay down your Arms again, move in that Peace, That fair Obedience you were bred in.

Put.

Charge us? We come not here to argue.

The.

Charge up bravely, And hotly too, we have hot Spleens to meet you, Hot as the Shames are offer'd us

[Enter Arch. Gent. and Sold.

Bur.

Look behind you, Do you see that old Man? do you know him, Soldiers?

Put.

Your Father, Sir, believe me —

Bur.

You know his Marches, You have seen his Executions: is it yet Peace?

The.

We'll die here first.

Bur.

Farewel: You'll hear on's presently.

Ar.

Stay, Burris: this is too poor, too beggarly a Body To bear the Honour of a Charge from me, A sort of tatter'd Rebels; go provide Gallouses; You are troubled with hot Heads, I'll cool you presently: These look like Men that were my Soldiers Now I behold 'em nearly, and more narrowly, My honest Friends: where got they these fair Figures? Where did they steal these Shapes?

Bur.

They are struck already.

Ar.

Do you see that Fellow there; that goodly Rebel? He looks as like a Captain I lov'd tenderly; A Fellow of a Faith indeed.

Bur.

He has sham'd him.

Ar.

And that that bears the Colours there, most certain So like an Ancient of mine own, a brave Fellow, A loving and obedient, that believe me, Burris, I am amaz'd and troubled: and were it not I know the general Goodness of my People, The Duty, and the Truth, the stedfast Honesty, And am assur'd they would as soon turn Devils As Rebels to Allegiance, for mine Honour.

Bu.

Here needs no Wars.

Put.

I pray forgive us, Sir.

Anc.

Good General forgive us, or use your Sword, Your Words are double Death.

All.

Good noble General.

Bur.

Pray, Sir, be merciful.

Ar.

Weep out your shames first, You make me Fool for Company: Fie, Soldiers, My Soldiers too, and play these Tricks. What's he there? Sure I have seen his Face too; yes, most certain I have a Son, but I hope he is not here now, Would much resemble this Man, wondrous near him, Just of his height and making too; you seem a Leader.

The.

Good Sir, do not shame me more: I know your Anger, And less than Death I look not for.

Ar.

You shall be my Charge, Sir, it seems you want Foes, When you would make your Friends your Enemies: A running Blood you have, but I shall cure you.

Bur.

Good Sir —

Ar.

No more, good Lord: beat forward, Soldiers: And you, march in the Rear, you have lost your Places.

[Exeunt:

SCENE VI.

Enter Duke, Olimpia, Honoira, Viola.

Du.

You shall not be thus sullen still, with me, Sister, You do the most unnobly to be angry; For as I have a Soul, I never touch'd her, I never yet knew one unchast Thought in her: I must confess I lov'd her; as who would not? I must confess I doated on her strangely, I offer'd, all; yet so strong was her Honour, So fortify'd as fair, no Hope could reach her; And whilst the World beheld this, and confirm'd it, Why would you be so jealous?

Ol.

Good Sir pardon me, I feel sufficiently my Follies Penance, And am asham'd, that Shame a thousand Sorrows Feed on continually. Would I had never seen her, Or with a clearer Judgment look'd upon her: She was too good for me, so heavenly good, Sir, Nothing but Heaven can love that Soul sufficiently, Where I shall see her once again.

[Enter Burris.

Du.

No more Tears, If she be within the Dukedom, we'll recover her: Welcome, Lord Burris, fair News I hope.

Bu.

Most fair, Sir, Without one Drop of Blood these Wars are ended, The Soldier cool'd again, indeed asham'd, Sir, And all his Anger ended.

Du.

Where's Lord Archas?

Bur.

Not far off, Sir: with him his valiant Son, Head of this Fire, but now a Prisoner; And if by your sweet Mercy not prevented, I fear some fatal Stroke.

[Drums.

Enter Archas, Theodore, Gentlemen, Soldiers.

Du.

I hear the Drums beat, Welcome, my worthy Friend.

Ar.

Stand where you are, Sir, Even as you love your Country, move not forward, Nor plead for Peace till I have done a Justice, A Justice on this Villain; none of mine now, A Justice on this Rebel.

Hon.

O my Brother.

Ar.

This fatal Firebrand —

Du.

Forget not, old Man, He is thy Son of thine own Blood.

Ar.

In these Veins

No treachery e'er harbour'd yet, no mutiny, I ne'er gave life to lewd and headstrong Rebels.

Duk.

'Tis his first Fault.

Ar.

Not of a thousand Sir, Or were it so, it is a Fault so mighty. So strong against the Nature of all Mercy, His Mother were she living, would not weep for him; He dare not say he would live.

The.

I must not Sir, Whilst you say it is not fit: your Grace's mercy Not to my life apply'd, but to my fault Sir, The World's forgiveness next; last, on my Knees Sir, I humbly beg, Do not take from me yet the Name of Father, Strike me a thousand Blows, but let me dye yours.

Ar.

He moves my Heart: I must be suddain with him, I shall grow faint else, in my Execution; Come, come Sir, you have seen Death; now meet him bravely.

Du.

Hold, hold I say, a little hold, consider Thou hast no more Sons, Archas, to inherit thee:

Ar.

Yes Sir, I have another, and a Nobler: No Treason shall inherit me: young Archas A Boy, as sweet as young, my Brother breeds him, My noble Brother Brisky, breeds him nobly, Him let your favour find: give him your honour.

Enter Putsky (alias Brisky) an d Alinda (alias Archas.)

Put.

Thou hast no Child left Ar chas, none to inherit thee If thou strik'st that stroke now: behold young Archas; Behold thy Brother here, thou bloody Brother, As bloody to this Sacrifice as thou art: Heave up thy Sword, and mine's heav'd up: strike Archas, And I'll strke too, as suddenly, as deadly: Have Mercy, and I'll have Mercy: The Duke gives it, Look upon all these, how they weep it from thee, Choose quickly, and begin.

Du.

On your Obedience, On your Allegiance save him.

Ar.

Take him to you,

[Sold. shout.

And sirrah, be an honest Man, you have reason: I thank ye worthy Brother; welcome Child, Mine one sweet Child.

Du.

Why was this Boy concealed thus?

Put.

Your Grace's Pardon: Fearing the Vow you made against my Brother And that your Anger would not only light On him, but find out all his Family,

This Young Boy, to preserve from after danger, Like a young Wench, hither I brought; my self In the Habit of an ordinary Captain Disguis'd, got Entertainment, and serv'd here That I might still be ready to all Fortunes: The Boy your Grace took, nobly entertain'd him, But thought a Girl, Alinda, Madam.

Ol.

Stand away, And let me look upon him.

Du.

My young Mistriss? This is a strange Metamorphosis, Alinda,

Al.

Your Graces humble Servant.

Du.

Come hither Sister: I dare yet scarce believe mine Eyes? how they view one another? Dost thou not love this Boy well?

Ol.

I should lye else, Trust me, extreamly lye Sir.

Du.

Didst thou never wish Olimpia, It might be thus?

Ol.

A thousand times.

Du.

Here take him: Nay, do not blush: I do not jest; kiss sweetly: Boy, you kiss faintly Boy; Heaven give you Comfort: Teach him, he'll quickly learn: there's two Hearts eas'd now.

Ar.

You do me too much honour Sir.

Duk.

No Archas, But all I can, I will; can you love me? speak truly.

Hon.

Yes Sir, dearly.

Du.

Come hither Viola, can you Love this Man?

Viol.

I'll do the best I can Sir.

Duk.

Seal it Burris: We'll all to Church together instantly: And then a Vie for Boys; stay, bring Borosky.

Enter Borosky

I had almost forgot that lump of Mischief. There Archas, take the Enemy to honour, The Knave to worth: do with him what thou wilt.

Ar.

Then to my Sword again; you to your Prayers; Wash off your Villanies, you feel the Burthen.

Bor.

Forgive me 'ere I die, most honest Archas; 'Tis too much honour that I perish thus; O strike my Faults to kill them that no Memory, No black and blasted Infamy hereafter—

Ar.

Come, are you ready?

Bor.

Yes.

Ar.

And truly penitent, to make your way straight?

Bor.

Thus I wash off my Sins

Ar.

Stand up, and live then, And live an honest Man; I scorn Mens ruine: Take him again. Sir, try him: and believe This thing will be a perfect Man.

Du.

I take him.

Bor.

And when I fail those Hopes, Heaven's Hopes fail me.

Duk.

You are old: no more Wars Father: Theodore take you the Charge, be General.

The.

All good Bless you.

Duk.

And my good Father, you dwell in my Bosom, From you rise all my good Thoughts: when I would think And examine Time for one that's fairly Noble, And the same Man through all the straights of Vertue, Upon this Silver Book I'll look, and read him. Now forward merrily to Hymens Rights, To Joys and Revels, Sports, and he that can Most honour Archas, is the noblest Man.

Exeunt.