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 fight 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, scurvy 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 fight 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;
Let 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 round, 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 if thou beest that valued man, that vertue,
That great obedience teaching all, now stand it.
What I have said forget, my youth was hasty,
And what you said your self forgive, you were angry.
If men could live without their faults, they were gods, Archas.
He weeps, and holds his hands up: to him, Burris.
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 buckl'd,
Then were you sworn for Vertues Cause, for Beauties,
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, speaks too?
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: Gentlemen,
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 thee.
Olymp. Full of thy vertue, and our Prayers attend thee.
Bur. &c. Loaden with Victory, and we to honour thee.
Alin. Come home the Son of Honour,
And I'll serve ye. [Exeunt.
Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.
Enter Duke, Burris, and two Gentlemen.
Duke. No news of Archas yet?
Bur. But now, and't please ye,
A Post came in, Letters he brought none with him,
But this deliver'd: He saw the Armies join,
The game of Blood begun, and by our General,
Who never was acquainted but with Conquest,
So bravely fought, he saw the Tartars shaken,
And there he said he left 'em.
Du. Where's Boroskie?
1 Gent. He's up again, and't please ye.
Bur. Sir, methinks
This News should make ye lightsome, bring joy to ye,
It strikes our hearts with general Comfort. [Exit Duke.
Gone? What should this mean, so suddenly?
He's well?
2 Gent. We see no other.
1 Gent. Would the rest were well too,
That put these starts into him.
Bur. I'll go after him.
2 Gent. 'Twill not be fit, Sir: h'as some secret in him
He would not be disturb'd in: know you any thing
Has crost him since the General went?
Bur. Not any:
If there had been, I am sure I should have found it:
Only I have heard him oft complain for money:
Money he says he wants.
1 Gent. It may be that then.
Bur. To him that has so ma[n]y wayes to raise it,
And those so honest, it cannot be.
Enter Duke and Boroskie.
1 Gent. He comes back,
And Lord Boroskie with him.
Bur. There the game goes,
I fear some new thing hatching.
Duke. Come hither Burris.
Go see my Sister, and commend me to her,
And to my little Mistriss give this Token;
Tell her I'le see her shortly.
Bur. Yes, I shall, Sir. [Ex. Bur. and Gent.
Duke. Wait you without: I would yet try him further.
Bor. 'Twill not be much amiss: has your Grace heard yet
Of what he has done i'th' Field?
Duke. A Post but now
Came in, who saw 'em joyn, and has delivered,
The Enemy gave ground before he parted.
Bor. 'Tis well.
Duke. Come, speak thy mind man: 'tis not for fighting,
A noise of War, I keep thee in my bosom;
Thy ends are nearer to me; from my Childhood
Thou brought'st me up: and like another nature,
Made good all my necessities: speak boldly.
Bor. Sir, what I utter, will be thought but envy
Though I intend, high heaven knows, but your honour,
When vain and empty people shall proclaim me—
Good Sir excuse me.
Duke. Do you fear me for your Enemy?
Speak on your duty.
Bor. Then I must, and dare, Sir:
When he comes home, take heed the Court receive him not,
Take heed he meet not with their loves and praises,
That Glass will shew him ten times greater, Sir,
(And make him strive to make good that proportion,)
Than ere his fortune bred him, he is honourable,
At least I strive to understand him so,
And of a nature, if not this way poyson'd,
Perfect enough, easie, and sweet, but those are soon seduc'd, Sir;
He's a great man, and what that Pill may work,
Prepar'd by general voices of the people,
Is the end of all my Counsel, only this, Sir,
Let him retire a while, there's more hangs by it
Than you know yet: there if he stand a while well,
But till the Souldier cool, whom, for their service
You must pay now most liberally, most freely,
And showre your self into 'em; 'tis the bounty
They follow with their loves, and not the bravery.
Enter two Gent.
Duke. But where's the Money? how now?
2 Gent. Sir, the Colonel,
Son to the Lord Archas, with most happy news
Of the Tartars overthrow, without here
Attends your Graces pleasure.
Bor. Be not seen, Sir,
He's a bold fellow, let me stand his Thunders,
To th' Court he must not come: no blessing here, Sir,
No face of favour, if you love your honour.
Enter Theodore.
Duke. Do what you think is meetest; I'le retire, Sir. [Ex.
Bor. Conduct him in, Sir—welcome noble Colonel.
The. That's much from your Lordship: pray where's the Duke?
Bor. We hear you have beat the Tartar.
The. Is he busie, Sir?
Bor. Have ye taken Olin yet?
The. I would fain speak with him.
Bor. How many men have ye lost?
The. Do's he lye this way?
Bor. I am sure you fought it bravely.
The. I must see him.
Bor. You cannot yet, ye must not, what's your Commission?
The. No Gentleman o'th' Chamber here?
Bor. Why, pray ye, Sir?
Am not I fit to entertain your business?
The. I think you are not, Sir; I am sure ye shall not.
I bring no tales, nor flatteries: in my tongue, Sir,
I carry no fork'd stings.
Bor. You keep your bluntness.
The. You are deceiv'd: it keeps me: I had felt else
Some of your plagues ere this: but good Sir trifle not,
I have business to the Duke.
Bor. He's not well, Sir,
And cannot now be spoke withal.
The. Not well, Sir?
How would he ha' been, if we had lost? not well, Sir?
I bring him news to make him well: his enemy
That would have burnt his City here, and your House too,
Your brave gilt house, my Lord, your honours hangings,
Where all your Ancestors, and all their Battels,
Their silk and golden Battels are decipher'd:
That would not only have abus'd your buildings,
Your goodly buildings, Sir, and have drunk dry your butteries,
Purloin'd your Lordships Plate, the Duke bestow'd on you,
For turning handsomly o'th' toe, and trim'd your Virgins,
Trim'd 'em of a new cut, and't like your Lordship,
'Tis ten to one, your Wife too, and the curse is
You had had no remedy against these Rascals,
No Law, and't like your Honour; would have kill'd you too
And roasted ye, and eaten ye, ere this time:
Notable Knaves my Lord, unruly Rascals:
These youths have we ty'd up, put muzzels on 'em,
And par'd their Nails, that honest civil Gentlemen,
And such most noble persons as your self is,
May live in peace, and rule the land with a twine thread.
These news I bring.
Bor. And were they thus deliver'd ye?
The. My Lord, I am no pen-man, nor no Orator,
My tongue was never Oyl'd with Here and't like ye,
There I beseech ye, weigh, I am a Souldier,
And truth I covet only, no fine terms, Sir;
I come not to stand treating here; my business
Is with the Duke, and of such general blessing—
Bor. You have overthrown the enemy, we know it,
And we rejoyce in't; ye have done like honest Subjects,
You have done handsomely and well.
Theo. But well, Sir?
But handsomely and well? what are we juglers?
I'le do all that in cutting up a Capon.
But handsomely and well? does your Lordship take us
For the Dukes Tumblers? we have done bravely, Sir,
Ventur'd our lives like men.
Bor. Then bravely be it.
Theo. And for as brave rewards we look, and graces,
We have sweat and bled for't, Sir.
Bor. And ye may have it,
If you will stay the giving. Men that thank themselves first
For any good they do, take off the lustre,
And blot the benefit.
Theo. Are these the welcomes,
The Bells that ring out our rewards? pray heartily,
Early and late, there may be no more Enemies:
Do my good Lord, pray seriously, and sigh too,
For if there be—
Bor. They must be met, and fought with.
Theo. By whom? by you? they must be met and flatter'd.
Why, what a Devil ail'd ye to do these things?
With what assurance dare ye mock men thus?
You have but single lives, and those I take it
A Sword may find too: why do ye dam the Duke up?
And choak that course of love, that like a River
Should fill our empty veins again with comforts?
But if ye use these knick knacks,
This fast and loose, with faithful men and honest,
You'l be the first will find it.
Enter Archas, Souldiers, Putskey, Ancient, and others.
Boros. You are too untemperate.
Theo. Better be so, and thief too, than unthankful:
Pray use this old man so, and then we are paid all.
The Duke thanks ye for your service, and the Court thanks ye,
And wonderful desirous they are to see ye;
Pray Heaven we have room enough to march for May-games,
Pageants, and Bone-fires for your welcome home, Sir.
Here your most noble friend the Lord Boroskie,
A Gentleman too tender of your credit,
And ever in the Dukes ear, for your good, Sir,
Crazie and sickly, yet to be your servant,
Has leapt into the open air to meet ye.
Bor. The best is, your words wound not, you are welcome home, Sir;
Heartily welcome home, and for your service,
The noble overthrow you gave the Enemy,
The Duke salutes ye too with all his thanks, Sir.
Anc. Sure they will now regard us.
Puts. There's a reason:
But by the changing of the Colonels countenance,
The rolling of his eyes like angry Billows;
I fear the wind's not down yet, Ancient.
Anc. Is the Duke well, Sir?
Boros. Not much unhealthy,
Only a little grudging of an Ague,
Which cannot last: he has heard, which makes him fearful,
And loth as yet to give your worth due welcome,
The sickness hath been somewhat hot i'th' Army,
Which happily may prove more doubt than danger,
And more his fear than fate; yet howsoever,
An honest care—
Arch. Ye say right, and it shall be;
For though upon my life 'tis but a rumor,
A meer opinion, without faith or fear in't;
For Sir, I thank Heaven, we never stood more healthy,
Never more high and lusty; yet to satisfie,
We cannot be too curious, or too careful
Of what concerns his state, we'll draw away, Sir,
And lodge at further distance, and less danger.
Boros. It will be well.
Anc. It will be very scurvy:
I smell it out, it stinks abominably,
Stir it no more.
Boros. The Duke, Sir, would have you too,
For a short day or two, retire to your own house,
Whither himself will come to visit ye,
And give ye thanks.
Arch. I shall attend his pleasure.
Anc. A trick, a lousie trick: so ho, a trick Boys.
Arch. How now, what's that?
Anc. I thought I had found a Hare, Sir,
But 'tis a Fox, an old Fox, shall we hunt him?
Arch. No more such words.
Boros. The Souldier's grown too sawcy,
You must tie him straiter up.
Arch. I do my best, Sir;
But men of free-born minds sometimes will flie out.
Anc. May not we see the Duke?
Boros. Not at this time, Gentlemen,
Your General knows the cause.
Anc. We have no Plague, Sir,
Unless it be in our pay, nor no Pox neither;
Or if we had, I hope that good old Courtier
Will not deny us place there.
Puts. Certain my Lord,
Considering what we are, and what we have done;
If not, what need ye may have, 'twould be better,
A great deal nobler, and taste honester
To use us with more sweetness; men that dig
And lash away their lives at the Carts tail,
Double our comforts; meat, and their Masters thanks too,
When they work well, they have; Men of our quality,
When they do well, and venture for't with valour,
Fight hard, lye hard, feed hard, when they come home, Sir,
And know these are deserving things, things worthy,
Can you then blame 'em if their minds a little
Be stir'd with glory? 'tis a pride becomes 'em,
A little season'd with ambition,
To be respected, reckon'd well, and honour'd
For what they have done: when to come home thus poorly,
And met with such unjointed joy, so looked on,
As if we had done no more but drest a Horse well;
So entertain'd, as if, I thank ye Gentlemen,
Take that to drink, had pow'r to please a Souldier?
Where be the shouts, the Bells rung out, the people?
The Prince himself?
Arch. Peace: I perceive your eye, Sir,
Is fixt upon this Captain for his freedom,
And happily you find his tongue too forward;
As I am Master of the place I carry,
'Tis fit I think so too; but were I this man,
No stronger tie upon me, than the truth
And tongue to tell it, I should speak as he do's,
And think with modesty enough, such Saints
That daily thrust their loves and lives through hazards,
And fearless for their Countries peace, march hourly
Through all the doors of death, and know the darkest,
Should better be canoniz'd for their service:
What labour would these men neglect, what danger
Where honour is, though seated in a Billow,
Rising as high as Heaven, would not these Souldiers,
Like to so many Sea-gods charge up to it?
Do you see these swords? times Sythe was ne'er so sharp, Sir;
Nor ever at one harvest mow'd such handfuls:
Thoughts ne'er so sudden, nor belief so sure
When they are drawn, and were it not sometimes
I swim upon their angers to allay 'em,
And like a calm depress their fell intentions;
They are so deadly sure, nature would suffer—
And whose are all these glories? why, their Princes,
Their Countries, and their Friends? Alas, of all these,
And all the happy ends they bring, the blessings,
They only share the labours: A little joy then,
And outside of a welcome, at an upshot
Would not have done amiss, Sir; but howsoever
Between me and my duty, no crack, Sir,
Shall dare appear: I hope by my example
No discontent in them: without doubt Gentlemen,
The Duke will both look suddenly and truly
On your deserts: Methinks 'twere good they were paid, Sir.
Bor. They shall be immediately; I stay for money;
And any favour else—
Arch. We are all bound to ye;
And so I take my leave, Sir; when the Duke pleases
To make me worthy of his eyes—
Bor. Which will be suddenly,
I know his good thoughts to ye.
Arch. With all duty,
And all humility, I shall attend, Sir.
Bor. Once more you are welcome home: these shall be satisfied.
The. Be sure we be: and handsomly.
Arch. Wait you on me, Sir.
The. And honestly: no jugling.
Arch. Will ye come, Sir? [Exit.
Bor. Pray do not doubt.
The. We are no Boys. [Exit.
Enter a Gent. and 2 or 3 with Mony.
Bor. Well Sir.
Gent. Here's mony from the Duke, and't please your Lordship.
Bor. 'Tis well.
Gent. How sowre the Souldiers look?
Bor. Is't told?
Gent. Yes, and for every company a double pay,
And the Dukes love to all.
Anc. That's worth a Ducket.
Bor. You that be Officers, see it discharg'd then,
Why do not you take it up?
Anc. 'Tis too heavy:
'Body o'me, I have strain'd mine arm.
Bor. Do ye scorn it?
Anc. Has your Lor[d]ship any dice about ye? sit round Gentlemen,
And come on seven for my share.
Put. Do you think Sir,
This is the end we fight? can this durt draw us
To such a stupid tameness, that our service
Neglected, and look'd lamely on, and skew'd at
With a few honourable words, and this, is righted?
Have not we eyes and ears, to hear and see Sir,
And minds to understand the slights we carry?
I come home old, and full of hurts, men look on me
As if I had got 'em from a whore, and shun me;
I tell my griefs, and fear my wants, I am answer'd,
Alas 'tis pity! pray dine with me on Sunday:
These are the sores we are sick of, the minds maladies,
And can this cure 'em? you should have us'd us nobly,
And for our doing well, as well proclaim'd us
To the worlds eye, have shew'd and sainted us,
Then ye had paid us bravely: then we had shin'd Sir,
Not in this gilded stuff but in our glory:
You may take back your mony.
Gent. This I fear'd still.
Bor. Consider better Gentlemen.
Anc. Thank your Lordship:
And now I'le put on my considering cap:
My Lord, that I am no Courtier, you may guess it
By having no sute to you for this mony:
For though I want, I want not this, nor shall not,
Whilst you want that civility to rank it
With those rights we expected; mony grows Sir,
And men must gather it, all is not put in one purse.
And that I am no Carter, I could never whistle yet:
But that I am a Souldier, and a Gentleman,
And a fine Gentleman, and't like your honour,
And a most pleasant companion: all you that are witty,
Come list to my ditty: come set in boyes,
With your Lordships patience. [Song.
How do you like my Song, my Lord?
Bor. Even as I like your self, but 'twould be a great deal better,
You would prove a great deal wiser, and take this mony,
In your own phrase I speak now Sir, and 'tis very well
You have learn'd to sing; for since you prove so liberal,
To refuse such means as this, maintain your voice still,
'Twill prove your best friend.
Anc. 'Tis a singing age Sir,
A merry moon here now: I'le follow it:
Fidling, and fooling now, gains more than fighting.
Bor. What is't you blench at? what would you ask? speak freely.
Sol. And so we dare: a triumph for the General,
Put. And then an honour special to his vertue.
Anc. That we may be prefer'd that have serv'd for it,
And cram'd up into favour like the worshipful,
At least upon the Cities charge made drunk
For one whole year; we have done 'em ten years service;
That we may enjoy our lechery without grudging,
And mine, or thine be nothing, all things equal,
And catch as catch may, be proclaim'd: that when we borrow,
And have no will to pay again, no Law
Lay hold upon us, nor no Court controule us.
Bor. Some of these may come to pass; the Duke may do 'em,
And no doubt will: the General will find too,
And so will you, if you but stay with patience: I have no power.
Put. Nor will: come fellow Souldiers.
Bor. Pray be not so distrustfull.
Put. There are waies yet,
And honest waies; we are not brought up Statues.
Anc. If your Lordship
Have any silk stockings, that have holes i'th' heels,
Or ever an honourable Cassock that wants buttons,
I could have cur'd such maladies: your Lordships custome
And my good Ladies, if the bones want setting
In her old bodies—
Bor. This is disobedience.
Anc. Eight pence a day, and hard Eggs.
Put. Troop off Gentlemen,
Some Coin we have, whilst this lasts, or our credits,
We'l never sell our Generals worth for six-pence.
Ye are beholding to us.
Anc. Fare ye well Sir,
And buy a pipe with that: do ye see this skarf Sir?
By this hand I'le cry Brooms in't, birchen Brooms Sir,
Before I eat one bit from your benevolence.
Now to our old occupations again.
By your leave Lord. [Exeunt.
Bor. You will bite when ye are sharper; take up the mony.
This love I must remove, this fondness to him,
This tenderness of heart; I have lost my way else.
There is no sending man, they will not take it,
They are yet too full of pillage,
They'l dance for't ere't be long:
Come, bring it after.
Enter Duke.
Duke. How now, refus'd their mony?
Bor. Very bravely,
And stand upon such terms 'tis terrible.
Duke. Where's Archas?
Bor. He's retir'd Sir, to his house,
According to your pleasure, full of dutie
To outward shew: but what within—
Duke. Refuse it?
Bor. Most confidently: 'tis not your revenues
Can feed the[m] Sir, and yet they have found a General
That knows no ebbe of bountie: there they eat Sir,
And loath your invitations.
Duke. 'Tis not possible,
He's poor as they.
Bor. You'l find it otherwise.
Pray make your journey thither presently,
And as ye goe I'le open ye a wonder.
Good Sir this morning.
Duke. Follow me, I'le doe it. [Exeunt.