ACT THE FIRST
SCENE I.—The Palace of Rasni in Nineveh.
Enter Rasni, with the Kings of Cilicia, Crete and Paphlagonia, from the overthrow of Jeroboam, King of Jerusalem.
Rasni. So pace ye on, triumphant warriors;
Make Venus' leman,[56] arm'd in all his pomp,
Bash at the brightness of your hardy looks;
For you, the viceroys and the cavaliers,
That wait on Rasni's royal mightiness:—
Boast, petty kings, and glory in your fates,
That stars have made your fortunes climb so high,
To give attend on Rasni's excellence.
Am I not he that rules great Nineveh,
Rounded with Lycus' silver-flowing streams?
Whose city-large diametri contains,
Even three days' journey's length from wall to wall;
Two hundred gates carv'd out of burnish'd brass,
As glorious as the portal of the sun;
And, for to deck heaven's battlements with pride,
Six hundred towers that topless touch the clouds.
This city is the footstool of your king;
A hundred lords do honour at my feet;
My sceptre straineth both the parallels:
And now t' enlarge the highness of my power
I have made Judea's monarch flee the field,
And beat proud Jeroboam from his holds,
Winning from Cadiz to Samaria.
Great Jewry's God, that foil'd stout Benhadad,
Could not rebate[57] the strength that Rasni brought;
For be he God in heaven, yet, viceroys, know,
Rasni is god on earth, and none but he.
K. of Cil. If lovely shape, feature by nature's skill
Passing in beauty fair Endymion's,
That Luna wrapt within her snowy breasts,
Or that sweet boy that wrought bright Venus' bane,
Transform'd unto a purple hyacinth;
If beauty nonpareil in excellence,
May make a king match with the gods in gree,[58]
Rasni is god on earth, and none but he.
K. of Crete. If martial looks, wrapt in a cloud of wars,
More fierce than Mavors lighteneth from his eyes,
Sparkling revenge and dire disparagement;
If doughty deeds more haught than any done,
Seal'd with the smile of fortune and of fate,
Matchless to manage lance and curtle-axe;
If such high actions, grac'd with victories,
May make a king match with the gods in gree,
Rasni is god on earth, and none but he.
K. of Paph. If Pallas' wealth—
Rasni. Viceroys, enough; peace, Paphlagon, no more.
See where's my sister, fair Remilia,
Fairer than was the virgin Danaë
That waits on Venus with a golden show;
She that hath stol'n the wealth of Rasni's looks,
And tied his thoughts within her lovely locks,
She that is lov'd, and love unto your king,
See where she comes to gratulate my fame.
Enter Radagon, with Remilia, Alvida, and Ladies, bringing a globe seated on a ship.
Remil. Victorious monarch, second unto Jove
Mars upon earth, and Neptune on the seas,
Whose frown strows all the ocean with a calm,
Whose smile draws Flora to display her pride,
Whose eye holds wanton Venus at a gaze,
Rasni, the regent of great Nineveh;
For thou hast foil'd proud Jeroboam's force,
And, like the mustering breath of Æolus,
That overturns the pines of Lebanon,
Hast scatter'd Jewry and her upstart grooms,
Winning from Cadiz to Samaria;—
Remilia greets thee with a kind salute,
And, for a present to thy mightiness,
Gives thee a globe folded within a ship,
As king on earth and lord of all the seas,
With such a welcome unto Nineveh
As may thy sister's humble love afford.
Rasni. Sister! the title fits not thy degree;
A higher state of honour shall be thine.
The lovely trull that Mercury entrapp'd
Within the curious pleasure of his tongue,
And she that bash'd the sun-god with her eyes,
Fair Semele, the choice of Venus' maids,
Were not so beauteous as Remilia.
Then, sweeting, sister shall not serve the turn,
But Rasni's wife, his leman and his love:
Thou shalt, like Juno, wed thyself to Jove,
And fold me in the riches of thy fair;[59]
Remilia shall be Rasni's paramour.
For why,[60] if I be Mars for warlike deeds,
And thou bright Venus for thy clear aspect,
Why should not from our loins issue a son
That might be lord of royal sovereignty,
Of twenty worlds, if twenty worlds might be?
What say'st, Remilia, art thou Rasni's wife?
Remil. My heart doth swell with favour of thy thoughts;
The love of Rasni maketh me as proud
As Juno when she wore heaven's diadem.
Thy sister born was for thy wife, my love:
Had I the riches nature locketh up
To deck her darling beauty when she smiles,
Rasni should prank him in the pride of all.
Rasni. Remilia's love is far more richer[61] priz'd
Than Jeroboam's or the world's subdue.
Lordings, I'll have my wedding sumptuous,
Made glorious with the treasures of the world:
I'll fetch from Albia shelves of margarites,[62]
And strip the Indies of their diamonds,
And Tyre shall yield me tribute of her gold,
To make Remilia's wedding glorious.
I'll send for all the damosel queens that live
Within the reach of Rasni's government,
To wait as hand-maids on Remilia,
That her attendant train may pass the troop
That gloried Venus at her wedding-day.
K. of Crete. O my Lord, not sister to thy love!
'Tis incest and too foul a fact for kings;
Nature allows no limits to such lust.
Radag. Presumptuous viceroy, dar'st thou check thy lord,
Or twit him with the laws that nature loves?
Is not great Rasni above nature's reach,
God upon earth, and all his will is law?
K. of Crete. O, flatter not, for hateful is his choice,
And sister's love will blemish all his worth.
Radag. Doth not the brightness of his majesty
Shadow his deeds from being counted faults?
Rasni. Well hast thou answer'd with him, Radagon;
I like thee for thy learnèd sophistry.—
But thou of Crete, that countercheck'st thy king,
Pack hence in exile;—Radagon the crown!—
Be thou vicegerent of his royalty,
And fail me not in what my thoughts may please,
For from a beggar have I brought thee up,
And grac'd thee with the honour of a crown.—
Ye quondam king, what, feed ye on delays?
K. of Crete. Better no king than viceroy under him,
That hath no virtue to maintain his crown. [Exit.
Rasni. Remilia, what fair dames be those that wait
Attendant on thy matchless royalty?
Remil. 'Tis Alvida, the fair wife to the King of Paphlagonia.
Rasni. Trust me, she is a fair:—thou'st, Paphlagon, a jewel,
To fold thee in so bright a sweeting's arms.
Radag. Like you her, my lord?
Rasni. What if I do, Radagon?
Radag. Why, then she is yours, my lord; for marriage
Makes no exception, where Rasni doth command.
K. of Paph. Ill dost thou counsel him to fancy wives.
Radag. Wife or not wife, whatso he likes is his.
Rasni. Well answer'd, Radagon; thou art for me:
Feed thou mine humour, and be still a king.—
Lords, go in triumph of my happy loves,
And, for to feast us after all our broils,
Frolic and revel it in Nineveh.
Whatso'er befitteth your conceited thoughts,
Or good or ill, love or not love, my boys,
In love, or what may satisfy your lust,
Act it, my lords, for no man dare say no.
Divisum imperium cum Jove nunc teneo.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.—A Public Place in Nineveh.
Enter, brought in by an Angel, Oseas, the Prophet, and let down over the stage in a throne.
Angel. Amaze not, man of God, if in the spirit
Thou'rt brought from Jewry unto Nineveh;
So was Elias wrapt within a storm,
And set upon Mount Carmel by the Lord:
For thou hast preach'd long to the stubborn Jews,
Whose flinty hearts have felt no sweet remorse,
But lightly valuing all the threats of God,
Have still perséver'd in their wickedness.
Lo, I have brought thee unto Nineveh,
The rich and royal city of the world,
Pamper'd in wealth, and overgrown with pride,
As Sodom and Gomorrah full of sin.
The Lord looks down, and cannot see one good,
Not one that covets to obey His will;
But wicked all, from cradle to the crutch.
Note, then, Oseas, all their grievous sins,
And see the wrath of God that pays revenge;
And when the ripeness of their sin is full,
And thou hast written all their wicked thoughts,
I'll carry thee to Jewry back again,
And seat thee in the great Jerusalem;
There shalt thou publish in her open streets
That God sends down His hateful wrath for sin
On such as never heard His prophets speak:
Much more will He inflict a world of plagues
On such as hear the sweetness of His voice,
And yet obey not what His prophets speak.
Sit thee, Oseas, pondering in the spirit
The mightiness of these fond people's[63] sins.
Oseas. The will of the Lord be done!
[Exit Angel.
Enter Adam[64] and his crew of Ruffians, to go to drink.
Ruffian. Come on, smith, thou shalt be one of the crew, because thou knowest where the best ale in the town is.
Adam. Come on, in faith, my colts; I have left my master striking of a heat, and stole away because I would keep you company.
First Ruf. Why, what, shall we have this paltry smith with us?
Adam. "Paltry smith"! why, you incarnative knave, what are you that you speak petty treason against the smith's trade?
First Ruf. Why, slave, I am a gentleman of Nineveh.
Adam. A gentleman! good sir, I remember you well, and all your progenitors: your father bare office in our town; an honest man he was, and in great discredit in the parish, for they bestowed two squires' livings on him, the one was on working-days, and then he kept the town stage, and on holidays they made him the sexton's man, for he whipped dogs out of the church. Alas, sir, your father,—why, sir, methinks I see the gentleman still: a proper youth he was, faith, aged some forty and ten; his beard rat's colour, half black, half white; his nose was in the highest degree of noses, it was nose autem glorificam,[65] so set with rubies that after his death it should have been nailed up in Copper-smiths-hall for a monument. Well, sir, I was beholding to your good father, for he was the first man that ever instructed me in the mystery of a pot of ale.
Second Ruf. Well said, smith; that crossed him over the thumbs.
First Ruf. Villain, were it not that we go to be merry, my rapier should presently quit[66] thy opproprious terms.
Adam. O Peter, Peter, put up thy sword, I prithee heartily, into thy scabbard; hold in your rapier; for though I have not a long reacher, I have a short hitter.—Nay then, gentlemen, stay me, for my choler begins to rise against him; for mark the words, "a paltry smith"! O horrible sentence! thou hast in these words, I will stand to it, libelled against all the sound horses, whole horses, sore horses, coursers, curtals, jades, cuts, hackneys and mares: whereupon, my friend, in their defence, I give thee this curse,—thou shalt not be worth a horse of thine own this seven year.
First Ruf. I prithee, smith, is your occupation so excellent?
Adam. "A paltry smith"! Why, I'll stand to it, a smith is lord of the four elements; for our iron is made of the earth, our bellows blow out air, our floor holds fire, and our forge water. Nay, sir, we read in the Chronicles that there was a god of our occupation.
First Ruf. Ay, but he was a cuckold.
Adam. That was the reason, sir, he call'd your father cousin. "Paltry smith"! Why, in this one word thou hast defaced their worshipful occupation.
First Ruf. As how?
Adam. Marry, sir, I will stand to it, that a smith in his kind is a physician, a surgeon and a barber. For let a horse take a cold, or be troubled with the bots, and we straight give him a potion or a purgation, in such physical manner that he mends straight: if he have outward diseases, as the spavin, splent, ringbone, windgall or fashion,[67] or, sir, a galled back, we let him blood and clap a plaster to him with a pestilence, that mends him with a very vengeance: now, if his mane grow out of order, and he have any rebellious hairs, we straight to our shears and trim him with what cut it please us, pick his ears and make him neat. Marry, ay, indeed, sir, we are slovens for one thing; we never use musk-balls to wash him with, and the reason is, sir, because he can woo without kissing.
First Ruf. Well, sirrah, leave off these praises of a smith, and bring us to the best ale in the town.
Adam. Now, sir, I have a feat above all the smiths in Nineveh; for, sir, I am a philosopher that can dispute of the nature of ale; for mark you, sir, a pot of ale consists of four parts,—imprimus the ale, the toast, the ginger, and the nutmeg.
First Ruf. Excellent!
Adam. The ale is a restorative, bread is a binder: mark you, sir, two excellent points in physic; the ginger, O, ware of that! the philosophers have written of the nature of ginger, 'tis expulsitive in two degrees; you shall hear the sentence of Galen,
"It will make a man belch, cough, and fart,
And is a great comfort to the heart,"—
a proper posy, I promise you; but now to the noble virtue of the nutmeg; it is, saith one ballad (I think an English Roman was the author), an underlayer to the brains, for when the ale gives a buffet to the head, O the nutmeg! that keeps him for a while in temper. Thus you see the description of the virtue of a pot of ale; now, sir, to put my physical precepts in practice, follow me: but afore I step any further—
First Ruf. What's the matter now?
Adam. Why, seeing I have provided the ale, who is the purveyor for the wenches? for, masters, take this of me, a cup of ale without a wench, why, alas, 'tis like an egg without salt, or a red-herring without mustard!
First Ruf. Lead us to the ale; we'll have wenches enough, I warrant thee. [Exeunt.
Oseas. Iniquity seeks out companions still,
And mortal men are armèd to do ill.
London, look on, this matter nips thee near:
Leave off thy riot, pride, and sumptuous cheer;
Spend less at board, and spare not at the door,
But aid the infant, and relieve the poor;
Else seeking mercy, being merciless,
Thou be adjudg'd to endless heaviness.
SCENE III.—At the Usurer's.
Enter the Usurer, Thrasybulus, and Alcon.[68]
Usurer. Come on, I am every day troubled with these needy companions: what news with you? what wind brings you hither?
Thras. Sir, I hope, how far soever you make it off, you remember, too well for me, that this is the day wherein I should pay you money that I took up of you alate in a commodity.[69]
Alc. And, sir, sir-reverence of your manhood and gentry, I have brought home such money as you lent me.
Usurer. You, young gentleman, is my money ready?
Thras. Truly, sir, this time was so short, the commodity so bad, and the promise of friends so broken, that I could not provide it against the day; wherefore I am come to entreat you to stand my friend, and to favour me with a longer time, and I will make you sufficient consideration.
Usurer. Is the wind in that door? If thou hast thy money, so it is: I will not defer a day, an hour, a minute, but take the forfeit of the bond.
Thras. I pray you, sir, consider that my loss was great by the commodity I took up: you know, sir, I borrowed of you forty pounds, whereof I had ten pounds in money, and thirty pounds in lute-strings, which when I came to sell again, I could get but five pounds for them, so had I, sir, but fifteen pounds for my forty. In consideration of this ill bargain, I pray you, sir, give me a month longer.
Usurer. I answered thee afore, not a minute; what have I to do how thy bargain proved? I have thy hand set to my book that thou receivedst forty pounds of me in money.
Thras. Ay, sir, it was your device that, to colour the statute, but your conscience knows what I had.
Alc. Friend, thou speakest Hebrew to him when thou talkest to him of conscience; for he hath as much conscience about the forfeit of an obligation, as my blind mare, God bless her, hath over a manger of oats.
Thras. Then there is no favour, sir?
Usurer. Come to-morrow to me, and see how I will use thee.
Thras. No, covetous caterpillar, know that I have made extreme shift rather than I would fall into the hands of such a ravening panther; and therefore here is thy money, and deliver me the recognisance of my lands.
Usurer [aside]. What a spite is this!—hath sped of his crowns! If he had missed but one half hour, what a goodly farm had I gotten for forty pounds! Well, 'tis my cursed fortune. O, have I no shift to make him forfeit his recognisance?
Thras. Come, sir, will you despatch and tell your money? [It strikes four o'clock.
Usurer [aside]. Stay, what is this o'clock? four;—let me see—"to be paid between the hours of three and four in the afternoon": this goes right for me.—You, sir, hear you not the clock, and have you not a counterpane[70] of your obligation? The hour is past, it was to be paid between three and four; and now the clock hath strucken four: I will receive none, I'll stand to the forfeit of the recognisance.
Thras. Why, sir, I hope you do but jest; why, 'tis but four, and will you for a minute take forfeit of my bond? If it were so, sir, I was here before four.
Usurer. Why didst thou not tender thy money then? if I offer thee injury, take the law of me, complain to the judge: I will receive no money.
Alc. Well, sir, I hope you will stand my good master for my cow. I borrowed thirty shillings on her, and for that I have paid you eighteen-pence a week, and for her meat you have had her milk, and I tell you, sir, she gives a pretty sup: now, sir, here is your money.
Usurer. Hang, beggarly knave! comest to me for a cow? did I not bind her bought and sold for a penny, and was not thy day to have paid yesterday? Thou gettest no cow at my hand.
Alc. No cow, sir! alas, that word "no cow" goes as cold to my heart as a draught of small drink in a frosty morning! "No cow," sir! Why, alas, alas, Master Usurer, what shall become of me, my wife, and my poor child?
Usurer. Thou gettest no cow of me, knave! I cannot stand prating with you; I must be gone.
Ale. Nay, but hear you, Master Usurer: "no cow!" Why, sir, here's your thirty shillings: I have paid you eighteen-pence a week, and therefore there is reason I should have my cow.
Usurer. What pratest thou? have I not answered thee, thy day is broken?
Alc. Why, sir, alas, my cow is a commonwealth to me! for first, sir, she allows me, my wife, and son, for to banquet ourselves withal, butter, cheese, whey, curds, cream, sod-milk, raw-milk, sour-milk, sweet-milk, and butter-milk: besides, sir, she saved me every year a penny in almanacs, for she was as good to me as a prognostication; if she had but set up her tail, and have gallop'd about the mead, my little boy was able to say, "O, father, there will be a storm"; her very tail was a calendar to me: and now to lose my cow! alas, Master Usurer, take pity upon me!
Usurer. I have other matters to talk on; farewell, fellows.
Thras. Why, but, thou covetous churl, wilt thou not receive thy money, and deliver me my recognisance?
Usurer. I'll deliver thee none; if I have wronged thee, seek thy mends at the law. [Exit.
Thras. And so I will, insatiable peasant.
Alc. And, sir, rather than I will put up this word "no cow," I will lay my wife's best gown to pawn. I tell you, sir, when the slave uttered this word "no cow," it struck to my heart, for my wife shall never have one so fit for her turn again; for, indeed, sir, she is a woman that hath her twiddling-strings broke.
Thras. What meanest thou by that, fellow?
Alc. Marry, sir, sir-reverence of your manhood, she breaks wind behind; and indeed, sir, when she sat milking of her cow and let a fart, my other cows would start at the noise, and kick down the milk and away; but this cow, sir, the gentlest cow! my wife might blow whilst[71] she burst: and having such good conditions, shall the Usurer come upon me with "no cow"? Nay, sir, before I pocket up this word "no cow," my wife's gown goes to the lawyer: why, alas, sir, 'tis as ill a word to me as "no crown" to a king!
Thras. Well, fellow, go with me, and I'll help thee to a lawyer.
Alc. Marry, and I will, sir. No cow! well, the world goes hard. [Exeunt.
Oseas. Where hateful usury
Is counted husbandry;
Where merciless men rob the poor,
And the needy are thrust out of door;
Where gain is held for conscience,
And men's pleasure is all on pence;
Where young gentlemen forfeit their lands,
Through riot, into the usurer's hands;
Where poverty is despis'd, and pity banish'd,
And mercy indeed utterly vanish'd:
Where men esteem more of money than of God;
Let that land look to feel his wrathful rod:
For there is no sin more odious in his sight
Than where usury defrauds the poor of his right.
London, take heed, these sins abound in thee;
The poor complain, the widows wrongèd be;
The gentlemen by subtlety are spoil'd;
The ploughmen lose the crop for which they toil'd:
Sin reigns in thee, O London, every hour:
Repent, and tempt not thus the heavenly power.