ACT THE FOURTH
SCENE I.—Joppa.
Enter the Merchants of Tharsus, the Master of the Ship and some Sailors, wet from the sea; with them the Governor of Joppa.
Gov. What strange encounters met you on the sea,
That thus your bark is batter'd by the floods,
And you return thus sea-wreck'd as I see?
First Mer. Most mighty Governor, the chance is strange,
The tidings full of wonder and amaze,
Which, better than we, our Master can report.
Gov. Master, discourse us all the accident.
Master. The fair Triones with their glimmering light
Smil'd at the foot of clear Bootes' wain,
And in the north, distinguishing the hours,
The loadstar of our course dispers'd his clear;
When to the seas with blitheful western blasts
We sail'd amain, and let the bowling fly.
Scarce had we gone ten leagues from sight of land,
But, lo, an host of black and sable clouds
'Gan to eclipse Lucina's silver face;
And, with a hurling noise from forth the south,
A gust of wind did rear the billows up.
Then scantled we our sails with speedy hands,
And took our drablers[104] from our bonnets straight,
And severèd our bonnets from the courses:
Our topsails up, we truss our spritsails in;
But vainly strive they that resist the heavens.
For, lo, the waves incense them more and more,
Mounting with hideous roarings from the depth;
Our bark is batter'd by encountering storms,
And well-nigh stemm'd by breaking of the floods.
The steersman, pale and careful, holds his helm,
Wherein the trust of life and safety lay:
Till all at once (a mortal tale to tell)
Our sails were split by Bisa's[105] bitter blast.
Our rudder broke, and we bereft of hope.
There might you see, with pale and ghastly looks,
The dead in thought, and doleful merchants lift
Their eyes and hands unto their country's gods.
The goods we cast in bowels of the sea,
A sacrifice to 'suage proud Neptune's ire.
Only alone a man of Israel,
A passenger, did under hatches lie,
And slept secure, when we for succour pray'd:
Him I awoke, and said, "Why slumberest thou?
Arise, and pray, and call upon thy god;
He will perhaps in pity look on us."
Then cast we lots to know by whose amiss
Our mischief came, according to the guise;
And, lo, the lot did unto Jonas fall,
The Israelite of whom I told you last.
Then question we his country and his name;
Who answer'd us, "I am an Hebrew born,
Who fear the Lord of heaven who made the sea,
And fled from him, for which we all are plagu'd:
So, to assuage the fury of my God,
Take me and cast my carcass in the sea;
Then shall this stormy wind and billow cease."
The heavens they know, the Hebrew's God can tell,
How loath we were to execute his will:
But when no oars nor labour might suffice,
We heav'd the hapless Jonas overboard.
So ceas'd the storm, and calmèd all the sea,
And we by strength of oars recover'd shore.
Gov. A wondrous chance of mighty consequence!
First Mer. Ah, honour'd be the god that wrought the same!
For we have vow'd, that saw his wondrous works,
To cast away profanèd paganism,
And count the Hebrew's god the only god:
To him this offering of the purest gold,
This myrrh and cassia, freely I do yield.
Master. And on his altar's fume these Turkey cloths,
This gossampine[106] and gold, I'll sacrifice.
First Sai. To him my heart and thoughts I will addict.
Then suffer us, most mighty Governor,
Within your temples to do sacrifice.
Gov. You men of Tharsus, follow me.
Who sacrifice unto the God of heaven
Are welcome friends to Joppa's Governor.
[Exeunt. A sacrifice.
Oseas. If warnèd once, the ethnics thus repent,
And at the first their error do lament,
What senseless beasts, devourèd in their sin,
Are they whom long persuasions cannot win!
Beware, ye western cities,—where the word
Is daily preachèd, both at church and board,
Where majesty the gospel doth maintain,
Where preachers, for your good, themselves do pain,—
To dally long and still protract the time;
The Lord is just, and you but dust and slime:
Presume not far, delay not to amend;
Who suffereth long, will punish in the end.
Cast thy account, O London, in this case,
Then judge what cause thou hast to call for grace!
SCENE II.—The Seashore near Nineveh.
Jonas is cast out of the Whale's belly upon the Stage.
Jonas. Lord of the light, thou maker of the world,
Behold, thy hands of mercy rear me up!
Lo, from the hideous bowels of this fish
Thou hast return'd me to the wishèd air!
Lo, here, apparent witness of thy power,
The proud leviathan that scours the seas,
And from his nostrils showers out stormy floods,
Whose back resists the tempest of the wind,
Whose presence makes the scaly troops to shake,
With humble stress of his broad-open'd chaps,
Hath lent me harbour in the raging floods!
Thus, though my sin hath drawn me down to death,
Thy mercy hath restorèd me to life.
Bow ye, my knees; and you, my bashful eyes,
Weep so for grief as you to water would.
In trouble, Lord, I callèd unto thee;
Out of the belly of the deepest hell
I cried, and thou didst hear my voice, O God!
'Tis thou hadst cast me down into the deep:
The seas and floods did compass me about;
I thought I had been cast from out thy sight;
The weeds were wrapt about my wretched head;
I went unto the bottom of the hills:
But thou, O Lord my God, hast brought me up!
On thee I thought whenas my soul did faint
My prayers did prease[107] before thy mercy-seat.
Then will I pay my vows unto the Lord,
For why salvation cometh from his throne.
The Angel appears.
Angel. Jonas, arise, get thee to Nineveh,
And preach to them the preachings that I bade;
Haste thee to see the will of heaven perform'd.
[The Angel departs.
Jonas. Jehovah, I am prest[108] to do thy will.—
What coast is this, and where am I arriv'd?
Behold sweet Lycus streaming in his bounds,
Bearing the walls of haughty Nineveh,
Whereas three hundred towers do tempt the heaven.
Fair are thy walls, pride of Assyria;
But, lo, thy sins have piercèd through the clouds!
Here will I enter boldly, since I know
My God commands, whose power no power resists.
[Exit.
Oseas. You prophets, learn by Jonas how to live;
Repent your sins, whilst he doth warning give.
Who knows his master's will, and doth it not,
Shall suffer many stripes, full well I wot.
SCENE III.—The Garden of Rasni's Palace.
Enter Alvida in rich attire, with the King of Cilicia, and her Ladies.
Alvi. Ladies, go sit you down amidst this bower,
And let the eunuchs play you all asleep:
Put garlands made of roses on your heads,
And play the wantons whilst I talk a while.
First Lady. Thou beautiful of all the world, we will.
[Ladies enter the bower.
Alvi. King of Cilicia, kind and courteous,
Like to thyself, because a lovely king,
Come, lay thee down upon thy mistress' knee,
And I will sing and talk of love to thee.
K. of Cil. Most gracious paragon of excellence,
It fits not such an abject prince as I,
To talk with Rasni's paramour and love.
Alvi. To talk, sweet friend! Who would not talk with thee?
O, be not coy! art thou not only fair?
Come, twine thine arms about this snow-white neck,
A love-nest for the great Assyrian king:
Blushing I tell thee, fair Cilician prince,
None but thyself can merit such a grace.
K. of Cil. Madam, I hope you mean not for to mock me.
Alvi. No, king, fair king, my meaning is to yoke thee.
Hear me but sing of love, then by my sighs,
My tears, my glancing looks, my changèd cheer,
Thou shalt perceive how I do hold thee dear.
K. of Cil. Sing, madam, if you please, but love in jest.
Alvi. Nay, I will love, and sigh at every rest.
[Sings.
Beauty, alas, where wast thou born,
Thus to hold thyself in scorn?
Whenas Beauty kiss'd to woo thee,
Thou by Beauty dost undo me:
Heigh-ho, despise me not!
I and thou, in sooth, are one,
Fairer thou, I fairer none:
Wanton thou, and wilt thou, wanton,
Yield a cruel heart to plant on?
Do me right, and do me reason;
Cruelty is cursèd treason:
Heigh-ho, I love! heigh-ho, I love!
Heigh-ho, and yet he eyes me not!
K. of Cil. Madam, your song is passing passionate.
Alvi. And wilt thou not, then, pity my estate?
K. of Cil. Ask love of them who pity may impart.
Alvi. I ask of thee, sweet; thou hast stole my heart.
K. of Cil. Your love is fixèd on a greater king.
Alvi. Tut, women's love it is a fickle thing.
I love my Rasni for his dignity,
I love Cilician king for his sweet eye;
I love my Rasni since he rules the world,
But more I love this kingly little world.
[Embraces him.
How sweet he looks! O, were I Cynthia's fere,[109]
And thou Endymion, I should hold thee dear:
Thus should mine arms be spread about thy neck,
[Embraces his neck.
Thus would I kiss my love at every beck;
[Kisses him.
Thus would I sigh to see thee sweetly sleep,
And if thou wak'dst not soon, thus would I weep;
And thus, and thus, and thus: thus much I love thee.
[Kisses him.
K. of Cil. For all these vows, beshrew me if I prove ye:
My faith unto my king shall not be fals'd.
Alvi. Good Lord, how men are coy when they are crav'd!
K. of Cil. Madam, behold our king approacheth nigh.
Alvi. Thou art Endymion, then, no more: heigh-ho, for him I die!
[Faints, pointing at the King of Cilicia.
Enter Rasni, with his Kings, Lords, and Magi.
Rasni. What ails the centre of my happiness,
Whereon depends the heaven of my delight?
Thine eyes the motors to command my world,
Thy hands the axier[110] to maintain my world,
Thy smiles the prime and spring-tide of my world,
Thy frowns the winter to afflict the world,
Thou queen of me, I king of all the world!
[She rises as out of a trance.
Alvi. Ah feeble eyes, lift up and look on him!
Is Rasni here? then droop no more, poor heart.—
O, how I fainted when I wanted thee!
[Embraces him.
How fain am I, now I may look on thee!
How glorious is my Rasni, how divine!—
Eunuchs, play hymns to praise his deity:
He is my Jove, and I his Juno am.
Rasni. Sun-bright as is the eye of summer's day,
Whenas he suits his pennons all in gold
To woo his Leda in a swan-like shape;
Seemly as Galatea for thy white;
Rose-colour'd, lily, lovely, wanton, kind,
Be thou the labyrinth to tangle love,
Whilst I command the crown from Venus' crest,
And pull Orion's girdle from his loins,
Enchas'd with carbuncles and diamonds,
To beautify fair Alvida, my love.—
Play, eunuchs, sing in honour of her name;
Yet look not, slaves, upon her wooing eyne.
For she is fair Lucina to your king,
But fierce Medusa to your baser eye.
Alvi. What if I slept, where should my pillow be?
Rasni. Within my bosom, nymph, not on my knee:
Sleep, like the smiling purity of heaven,
When mildest wind is loath to blend[111] the peace;
Meanwhile my balm shall from thy breath arise;
And while these closures of thy lamps be shut,
My soul may have his peace from fancy's war.—
This is my Morn, and I her Cephalus:—
Wake not too soon, sweet nymph, my love is won.—
Caitiffs, why stay your strains? why tempt you me?
Enter the Priests of the Sun, with mitres on their heads, carrying fire in their hands.
First Priest. All hail unto th' Assyrian deity!
Rasni. Priests, why presume you to disturb my peace?
First Priest. Rasni, the Destinies disturb thy peace.
Behold, amidst the adyts[112] of our gods,
Our mighty gods, the patrons of our war,
The ghosts of dead men howling walk about,
Crying "Væ, Væ, woe to this city, woe!"
The statues of our gods are thrown down,
And streams of blood our altars do distain.
Alvi. [starting up]. Alas, my lord, what tidings do I hear?
Shall I be slain?
Rasni. Who tempteth Alvida?
Go, break me up the brazen doors of dreams,
And bind me cursèd Morpheus in a chain,
And fetter all the fancies of the night,
Because they do disturb my Alvida.
[A hand from out a cloud threatens with a burning sword.
K. of Cil. Behold, dread prince, a burning sword from heaven,
Which by a threatening arm is brandishèd!
Rasni. What, am I threaten'd, then, amidst my throne?
Sages, you Magi, speak; what meaneth this?
First Magus. These are but clammy exhalations,
Or retrograde conjunctions of the stars,
Or oppositions of the greater lights,
Or radiations finding matter fit,
That in the starry sphere kindled be;
Matters betokening dangers to thy foes,
But peace and honour to my lord the king.
Rasni. Then frolic, viceroys, kings and potentates;
Drive all vain fancies from your feeble minds.
Priests, go and pray, whilst I prepare my feast,
Where Alvida and I, in pearl and gold,
Will quaff unto our nobles richest wine,
In spite of fortune, fate, or destiny. [Exeunt.
Oseas. Woe to the trains of women's foolish lust,
In wedlock-rites that yield but little trust,
That vow to one, yet common be to all!
Take warning, wantons; pride will have a fall.
Woe to the land where warnings profit naught!
Who say that nature God's decrees hath wrought;
Who build on fate, and leave the corner-stone,
The God of gods, sweet Christ, the only one.
If such escapes, O London, reign in thee,
Repent, for why each sin shall punish'd be!
Repent, amend, repent, the hour is nigh!
Defer not time! who knows when he shall die?
SCENE IV.—A Public Place in Nineveh.
Enter one clad in Devil's attire.
Devil. Longer lives a merry man than a sad; and because I mean to make myself pleasant this night, I have put myself into this attire, to make a clown afraid that passeth this way: for of late there have appeared many strange apparitions, to the great fear and terror of the citizens.—O, here my young master comes.
Enter Adam and the Smith's Wife.
Adam. Fear not, mistress, I'll bring you safe home: if my master frown, then will I stamp and stare; and if all be not well then, why then to-morrow morn put out mine eyes clean with forty pound.
S. Wife. O, but, Adam, I am afraid to walk so late, because of the spirits that appear in the city.
Adam. What, are you afraid of spirits? Armed as I am, with ale and nutmegs, turn me loose to all the devils in hell.
S. Wife. Alas, Adam, Adam! the devil, the devil!
Adam. The devil, mistress! fly you for your safeguard; [Exit S. Wife.] let me alone; the devil and I will deal well enough, if he have any honesty at all in him: I'll either win him with a smooth tale, or else with a toast and a cup of ale.
Devil [singing].
O, O, O, O, fain would I be,
If that my kingdom fulfill'd I might see!
O, O, O, O!
Adam. Surely this is a merry devil, and I believe he is one of Lucifer's minstrels; hath a sweet voice; now surely, surely, he may sing to a pair of tongs and a bagpipe.
Devil. O, thou art he that I seek for.
Adam. Spritus santus!—Away from me, Satan! I have nothing to do with thee.
Devil. O villain, thou art mine!
Adam. Nominus patrus!—I bless me from thee, and I conjure thee to tell me who thou art!
Devil. I am the spirit of the dead man that was slain in thy company when we were drunk together at the ale.[113]
Adam. By my troth, sir, I cry you mercy; your face is so changed that I had quite forgotten you: well, master devil, we have tossed over many a pot of ale together.
Devil. And therefore must thou go with me to hell.
Adam [aside]. I have a policy to shift him, for I know he comes out of a hot place, and I know myself, the smith and the devil hath a dry tooth in his head: therefore will I leave him asleep and run my way.
Devil. Come, art thou ready?
Adam. Faith, sir, my old friend, and now goodman devil, you know you and I have been tossing many a good cup of ale: your nose is grown very rich: what say you, will you take a pot of ale now at my hands? Hell is like a smith's forge, full of water, and yet ever athirst.
Devil. No ale, villain; spirits cannot drink; come, get upon my back, that I may carry thee.[114]
Adam. You know I am a smith, sir: let me look whether you be well shod or no; for if you want a shoe, a remove, or the clinching of a nail, I am at your command.
Devil. Thou hast never a shoe fit for me.
Adam, Why, sir, we shoe horned beasts, as well as you,—[Aside.] O good Lord! let me sit down and laugh; hath never a cloven foot; a devil, quoth he! I'll use Spritus santus nor Nominus patrus no more to him, I warrant you; I'll do more good upon him with my cudgel: now will I sit me down, and become justice of peace to the devil.
Devil. Come, art thou ready?
Adam. I am ready, and with this cudgel I will conjure thee. [Beats him.
Devil. O, hold thy hand! thou killest me, thou killest me! [Exit.
Adam. Then may I count myself, I think, a tall[115] man, that am able to kill a devil. Now who dare deal with me in the parish? or what wench in Nineveh will not love me, when they say, "There goes he that beat the devil?" [Exit.
SCENE V.—A Public Place near the Usurer's.
Enter Thrasybulus.
Thras. Loath'd is the life that now enforc'd I lead;
But since necessity will have it so,
(Necessity that doth command the gods),
Through every coast and corner now I pry,
To pilfer what I can to buy me meat.
Here have I got a cloak, not over old,
Which will afford some little sustenance:
Now will I to the broking Usurer,
To make exchange of ware for ready coin.
Enter Alcon, Samia, and Clesiphon.
Alc. Wife, bid the trumpets sound, a prize, a prize! mark the posy: I cut this from a new-married wife, by the help of a horn-thumb[116] and a knife,—six shillings, four pence.
Samia. The better luck ours: but what have we here, cast apparel? Come away, man, the Usurer is near: this is dead ware, let it not bide on our hands.
Thras. [aside]. Here are my partners in my poverty,
Enforc'd to seek their fortunes as I do:
Alas, that few men should possess the wealth,
And many souls be forc'd to beg or steal!—
Alcon, well met.
Alc. Fellow beggar, whither now?
Thras. To the Usurer, to get gold on commodity.
Alc. And I to the same place, to get a vent for my villainy. See where the old crust comes: let us salute him.
Enter Usurer.
God-speed, sir: may a man abuse your patience upon a pawn?
Usurer. Friend, let me see it.
Alc. Ecce signum! a fair doublet and hose, new-bought out of the pilferer's shop,—a handsome cloak.
Usurer. How were they gotten?
Thras. How catch the fishermen fish? Master, take them as you think them worth: we leave all to your conscience.
Usurer. Honest men, toward men, good men, my friends, like to prove good members, use me, command me; I will maintain your credits. There's money: now spend not your time in idleness; bring me commodity; I have crowns for you: there is two shillings for thee, and six shillings for thee. [Gives money.
Alc. A bargain.—Now, Samia, have at it for a new smock!—Come, let us to the spring of the best liquor: whilst this lasts, tril-lill!
Usurer. Good fellows, proper fellows, my companions, farewell: I have a pot for you.
Samia [aside]. If he could spare it.
Enter Jonas.
Jonas. Repent, ye men of Nineveh, repent!
The day of horror and of torment comes;
When greedy hearts shall glutted be with fire,
Whenas corruptions veil'd shall be unmask'd,
When briberies shall be repaid with bane,
When whoredoms shall be recompens'd in hell,
When riot shall with vigour be rewarded,
Whenas neglect of truth, contempt of God,
Disdain of poor men, fatherless and sick,
Shall be rewarded with a bitter plague.
Repent, ye men of Nineveh, repent!
The Lord hath spoke, and I do cry it out;
There are as yet but forty days remaining,
And then shall Nineveh be overthrown:
Repent, ye men of Nineveh, repent!
There are as yet but forty days remaining,
And then shall Nineveh be overthrown. [Exit.
Usurer. Confus'd in thought, O, whither shall I wend?
[Exit.
Thras. My conscience cries that I have done amiss.
[Exit.
Alc. O God of heaven, gainst thee have I offended!
Samia. Asham'd of my misdeeds, where shall I hide me?
Cles. Father, methinks this word "repent" is good:
He that punisheth disobedience
Doth hold a scourge for every privy fault.
[Exit with Alcon and Samia.
Oseas. Look, London, look; with inward eyes behold
What lessons the events do here unfold.
Sin grown to pride, to misery is thrall:
The warning-bell is rung, beware to fall.
Ye worldly men, whom wealth doth lift on high,
Beware and fear, for worldly men must die.
The time shall come, where least suspect remains,
The sword shall light upon the wisest brains;
The head that deems to overtop the sky,
Shall perish in his human policy.
Lo, I have said, when I have said the truth,
When will is law, when folly guideth youth,
When show of zeal is prank'd in robes of zeal,
When ministers powl[117] the pride of commonweal,
When law is made a labyrinth of strife,
When honour yields him friend to wicked life,
When princes hear by others' ears their folly,
When usury is most accounted holy,
If these shall hap, as would to God they might not,
The plague is near: I speak, although I write not.
Enter the Angel.
Angel. Oseas.
Oseas. Lord?
Angel. Now hath thine eyes perus'd these heinous sins,
Hateful unto the mighty Lord of hosts.
The time is come, their sins are waxen ripe,
And though the Lord forewarns, yet they repent not;
Custom of sin hath harden'd all their hearts.
Now comes revenge, armèd with mighty plagues,
To punish all that live in Nineveh;
For God is just, as he is merciful,
And doubtless plagues all such as scorn repent.
Thou shalt not see the desolation
That falls unto these cursèd Ninevites,
But shalt return to great Jerusalem,
And preach unto the people of thy God
What mighty plagues are incident to sin,
Unless repentance mitigate His ire:
Rapt in the spirit, as thou wert hither brought,
I'll seat thee in Judaea's provinces.
Fear not, Oseas, then to preach the word.
Oseas. The will of the Lord be done!
[Oseas is taken away by the Angel.