SCAENA 3.
Enter 2 Captaines.[172]
1 Cap. This is a strange cutting time.
2 Cap. Let 'em cutt deep enough,
They will doe no great cure els. I wonder strangely
They carry such a gentle hand on Leidenberch
That any frends come to him.
1 Cap. 'Has confest much, Beleeve it, and so far they feare him not, They would be els more circumspect.
2 Cap. Pray ye, tell me, Is there no further newes of those are fledd,— I meane those fellow Instruments?
1 Cap. None as yet,—
At least divulgd abroad. But certenly
The wise States are not idle, neither at this time
Do's it concerne their safeties. We shall heare shortly
More of theis monsters.
2 Cap. Let's to dynner, Sir; There we shall heare more newes.
1 Cap. Ile beare ye companie.
[Exeunt.
SCAENA 4.
Enter Barnavelt & Provost.
Bar. And how doth he take his imprisonment, Mr. Provost?
Pro. A litle discontent, and't please your Lordship, And sad as men confind.
Bar. He does not talke much?
Pro. Litle or nothing, Sir.
Bar. Nor wrighte?
Pro. Not any thing, Yet I have charge to give him those free uses.
Bar. Doe you keep him close?
Pro. Not so close, and't like your Lordship, But you may see and speake with him.
Bar. I thanck ye.
Pro. Pray ye give me leave; Ile send him to your Honour. [Exit.
Bar. Now, Barnavelt, thou treadst the subtlest path,
The hardest and the thorniest, most concernes thee,
That ere thy carefull course of life run through:
The Master peece is now a foot, which if it speed
And take but that sure hold I ayme it at,
I make no doubt but once more, like a Comet,
To shine out faire and blaze prodigiously
Even to the ruyn of those men that hate me.
Enter Leidenberch.
—I am sorry for your fortune.
Leid. 'Tis a sad one And full of burthen, but I must learne to beare it. How stands your State?
Bar. Upon a ball of yce That I can neither fix, nor fall with safetie.
Leid. The heavie hand of heaven is now upon us And we exposd, like bruizd and totterd vessells, To merciles and cruell Seas to sinck us.
Bar. Our Indiscreations are our evill fortunes,
And nothing sincks us but [our] want of providence.
O you delt coldly, Sir, and too too poorely,
Not like a man fitt to stem tides of dangers,
When you gave way to the Prince to enter Utrecht.
There was a blow, a full blow at our fortunes;
And that great indiscreation, that mayne blindnes,
In not providing such a constant Captaine,
One of our owne, to commaund the watch, but suffer
The haughtie English to be masters of it,—
This was not well nor fitting such a wisdom,
Not provident.
Leid. I must confes my errour; The beastly coldnes of the drowsy Burgers Put me past all my aymes.
Bar. O, they are sweet Jewells!
He that would put his confidence in Turnops[173]
And pickled Spratts—Come, yet resume your Courage,
Pluck up that leaden hart and looke upon mee;
Modesbargen's fledd, and what we lockt in him
Too far of from their subtle keys to open,
Yf we stand constant now to one another
And in our soules be true.
Leid. That comes too late, Sir, Too late to be redeemd: as I am unfortunate In all that's gone before, in this—
Bar. What?
Leid. O, In this, this last and greatest—
Bar. Speake.
Leid. Most miserable. I have confessd. Now let your eies shoot through me And if there be a killing anger sinck me.
Bar. Confessd!
Leid. 'Tis done: this traitor tongue has don it, This coward tongue.
Bar. Confessd!
Leid. He lookes me blind now.
Bar. How I could cursee thee, foole, despise thee, spurne thee,
But thou art a thing not worthie of mine anger.
A frend! a dog: a whore had byn more secreat,
A common whore a closer Cabinet.
Confest! upon what safety, thou trembling aspyn,
Upon what hope? Is there ought left to buoy us
But our owne confidence? What frends now follow us,
That have the powre to strike of theis misfortunes,
But our owne constant harts? Where were my eies,
My understanding, when I tooke unto me
A fellow of thy falce hart for a frend?
Thy melting mind! foold with a few faire words
Suffer those secreats that concerne thy life,
In the Revealer not to be forgiven too,
To be pluckt from thy childes hart with a promise,
A nod, a smile! thyself and all thy fortunes
Through thy base feare made subject to example!
Nor will the shott stay there, but with full violence
Run through the rancke of frends, disperse and totter
The best and fairest hopes thy fame was built on.
Leid. What have I done, how am I foold and cozend! What shall redeeme me from this Ignoraunce!
Bar. Not any thing thou aymst at, thou art lost: A most unpittied way thou falst.
Leid. Not one hope To bring me of? nothing reservd to cleere me From this cold Ignoraunce?
Bar. But one way left,
But that thy base feare dares not let thee look on;
And that way will I take, though it seeme steepe
And every step stuck with affrights and horrours,
Yet on the end hangs smyling peace and honour,
And I will on.
Leid. Propound and take[174] me with ye.
Bar. Dye uncompelld, and mock their preparations, Their envyes and their Justice.
Leid. Dye?
Bar. Dye willingly,
Dye sodainely and bravely: So will I:
Then let 'em sift our Actions from our ashes.
I looke to-morrow to be drawne before 'em;
And doe you thinck, I, that have satt a Judge
And drawne the thred of life to what length I pleasd,
Will now appeare a Prisoner in the same place?
Tarry for such an ebb? No, Leidenberch:
The narrowest dore of death I would work through first
Ere I turne Slave to stick their gawdy triumphes.
Leid. Dye, did you say? dye wilfully?
Bar. Dye any way,
Dye in a dreame: he that first gave us honours
Allowes us also safe waies to preserve 'em,
To scape the hands of infamy and tirrany.
We may be our owne Justice: he that loses
His Creadit (deere as life) through doubt or faintness
Is guilty of a doble death, his name dies;
He is onely pious that preserves his heire
His honour when he's dead.
Leid. 'Tis no great paine.
Bar. 'Tis nothing:
Imagination onely makes it monstrous.
When we are sick we endure a hundred fitts,
This is but one; a hundred waies of torture,
And cry and howle, weary of all about us,
Our frends, allyes, our children teadious to us,
Even our best health is but still sufferaunce.
One blow, one short peece of an howre dos this,
And this cures all; maintaines no more phisitians,
Restores our memories, and there's the great cure,
Where, if we stay the fatall Sword of Justice,
It moawes the man downe first, and next his fashion,
His living name, his creadit.
Leid. Give me your hand, Sir;
You have put me in a path I will tread strongly;
Redeeme what I have lost, and that so nobely
The world shall yet confes at least I lovd ye.
How much I smile at now theis peoples mallice!
Dispise their subtle ends, laugh at their Justice!
And what a mightie Prince a constant man is!
How he can set his mind aloft, and looke at
The bussings and the busines of the spightfull,
And crosse when ere he please all their close weavings.
Farwell, my last farwell.
Bar. A long farwell, Sir.
Leid. Our bodies are the earthes, that's their dyvorsse: But our immortall names shall twyn togeather.
Bar. Thus tread we backward to our graves;—but faint not.
Leid. Fooles onely fly their peace: thus I pursue it.
[Exeunt.
SCAENA 5.
Enter Grotius & Hogerbeets.
Gro. They have arrested him, Hogerbeets?
Hog. Yes;
That you all know, Grotius, they did at Utrich,
But since they have with more severitie
And scorne of us proceeded. Monsieur Barnavelt
Walkes with a thousand eies and guards upon him,
And has at best a painted libertie;
Th'Appollogie he wroat so poorely raild at,
(For answeard at no part a man can call it)
And all his life and Actions so detracted,
That he, as I am certenly informed,
Lookes every howre for worsse.
Gro. Come, come, they dare not,
Or if they should I will not suffer it;
I that have without dread ever maintaind
The freedom I was borne to, against all
That ever have provoakd me, will not feare
What this old Grave or the new Prince of Orange
Dare undertake beyond this, but will rise up
And if he lay his hands on Barnavelt,
His Court, our Guift, and where the generall States
Our equalls sit ile fry[175] about their eares
And quench it in their blood. What now I speake
Againe ile speake alowd; let who will tell it,
I never will fly from it.
Hog. What you purpose I will not fly from.
Gro. Back you then to Leyden, Ile keep at Roterdam: there if he fetch me Ile nere repent whatever can fall on me.
[Exeunt.
SCAENA 6.
Enter Leidenberch & Boy.
Boy. Shall I help you to bed, Sir, [Taper, pen & inke: Table.
Leid. No, my Boy, not yet.
Boy. 'Tis late and I grow sleepie.
Leid. Goe to bed then, For I must wryte, my Childe.
Boy. I had rather watch, Sir, If you sitt up, for I know you will wake me.
Leid. Indeed I will not; goe, I have much to doe; Prethee to bed; I will not waken thee.
Boy. Pray, Sir, leave wryting till to morrow.
Leid. Why, Boy?
Boy. You slept but ill last night, and talkd in your sleep, too; Tumbled and tooke no rest.
Leid. I ever doe soe. Good Boy, to bed; my busines is of waight And must not be deferrd: good night, sweet Boy.
Boy. My father was not wont to be so kind To hug me and to kisse me soe.
Leid. Why do'st thou weep?
Boy. I cannot tell, but sure a tendernes,
Whether it be with your kind words unto me
Or what it is, has crept about my hart, Sir,
And such a sodaine heavynes withall, too.
Leid.—Thou bringst fitt mourners for my funerall.
Boy. But why do you weep, father?
Leid. O, my Boy,
Thy teares are dew-drops, sweet as those on roses,
But mine the faint and yron sweatt of sorrow.
Prethee, sweet Child, to bed; good rest dwell with thee,
And heaven returne a blessing: that's my good Boy. [Exit boy.
—How nature rises now and turnes me woman
When most I should be man! Sweet hart, farewell,
Farewell for ever. When we get us children
We then doe give our freedoms up to fortune
And loose that native courage we are borne to.
To dye were nothing,—simply to leave the light;
No more then going to our beds and sleeping;
But to leave all these dearnesses behind us,
These figures of our selves that we call blessings,
Is that which trobles. Can man beget a thing
That shalbe deerer then himself unto him?
—Tush, Leidenberch: thinck what thou art to doe;
Not to play Niobe weeping ore her Children,
Unles that Barnavelt appeere againe
And chide thy dull-cold nature.—He is fast: [Son abed.
Sleepe on, sweet Child, the whilst thy wreatched father
Prepares him to the yron sleepe of death.
Or is death fabled out but terrable
To fright us from it? or rather is there not
Some hid Hesperides, some blessed fruites
Moated about with death. Thou soule of Cato,
And you brave Romaine speritts, famous more
For your true resolutions on yourselves
Then Conquest of the world, behold, and see me
An old man and a gowne man, with as much hast
And gladnes entertaine this steele that meetes me
As ever longing lover did his mistris.
—So, so; yet further; soe.
Boy within. Oh!
Leid. Sure the Boy wakes And I shalbe prevented.
Boy. Now heaven blesse me. O me, O me!
Leid. He dreames and starts with frightings.
I bleed apace but cannot fall: tis here;
This will make wider roome. Sleep, gentle Child,
And do not looke upon thy bloody father,
Nor more remember him then fitts thy fortune.
—Now shoot your spightes, now clap on all your councells;
Here is a constant frend will not betray me.
I, now I faint; mine eies begin to hunt
For that they have lost for ever, this worldes beutie—
O oh, ô oh! my long sleepe now has ceizd me.
Enter Boy.
Boy. I heard him groane and cry; I heard him fall sure.
O, there he lyes in his owne blood! ô father,
O my deare father, dead and bequeathd no blessing!
Why did I goe to bed, why was I heavy?
O, I will never sleep againe. The house there!
You that are verteous rise! you that have fathers!
Ho, Master Provost! ô my deerest father.
Some Surgeons, Surgeons!
Enter Provost & Servts.
Prov. 'Twas the Boyes voice, certaine.
Ser. What bloody sight is this? 'has killd himself: Dead, stone-cold dead; he needs no art of Surgeons.
Prov. Take of the Boy.
Boy. O let me dwell here ever.
Prov. This was a fatall stroak, to me a heavy,
For my remissnes wilbe loaden with it.
Bring in the Boy; ile to the State instantly;
Examine all the wounds and keep the knives;
The Boy fast too,—may be he knowes some circumstance.
Boy. O that I never knew againe.
Prov. In with it.
[Exeunt.
Actus Quartus.
SCAENA PRIMA.
Enter Captaine[176] and Soldiers.
Cap. Are the Horses left where I appointed 'em, And all the Soldiers ready?
Sold. They are all, Captaine.
Cap. 'Tis well: Modesbargen is abroad, for certaine, Hunting this morning.
Sold. Tis most likely, Sir; For round about the Castle, since the dawning, We have heard the merry noyse of hornes.
Cap. Dispeirce then,
Except some three or foure to watch the Castle
Least he break in againe. What Company
Have ye discoverd that attends him?
Sold. Few, Sir: I do not thinck he has five within the fort now Able to make resistaunce.
Cap. Let 'em be twenty
We are strong enough to fright 'em; and by all meanes
Let those that stay seek by some trick or other
To make the Bridge good, that they draw it not
If he returne upon us.
Sold. With all care, Sir. [Exeunt.—Hornes.
Enter Modes-bargen & Huntsmen[177].
Mod. The doggs have hunted well this dewy morning, And made a merry cry.
1 Hunt. The Hare was rotten[178];
You should have heard els such a rore, and seene 'em
Make all hir dobles out with such neat hunting
And run at such a merry rate togeather,
They should have dapled ore your bay with fome, Sir.
Mod. 'Tis very well, and so well I affect it
That I could wish I had nere hunted after
Any delight but this, nor sought more honour.
This is securely safe, drawes on no danger,
Nor is this Chace crost with malignant envy.
How sweatly do I live and laugh upon
The perrills I have past, the plotts and traynes!
And now (methincks) I dare securely looke on
The steepe and desprat follyes my indiscretion
Like a blind careles foole had allmost cast me on.
Here I stand saffe 'gainst all their strengths and Stratagems:
I was a boy, a foole to follow Barnavelt,
To step into his attempts, to wedd my freedom
To his most dangerous faction, a meere Coxcomb;
But I have scapd their clawes.—Have ye found more game?
Enter 2 Huntesmen[179].
2 Hunt. Beating about to find a new Hare, we discoverd—
Mod. Discoverd what?
2 Hunt. Horsemen, and't please ye, Sir, Scowt round about us, and which way still the doggs went They made up within view.
Mod. Look't they like Soldiers?
2 Hunt. For certaine they are Soldiers; for if theis are eyes I saw their pistolls.
Mod. Many?
2 Hunt. Some half a score, Sir.
Mod. I am betraide: away and raise the Boores up, Bid 'em deale manfully.
1 Hunt. Take a close way home And clap your spurres on roundly.
Mod. No place safe for me! This Prince has long armes, and his kindled anger A thousand eyes—Make hast and raise the Cuntry.
[Exeunt.
Enter Captn & Soldiers.
Cap. This was a narrow scape; he was ith' feild, sure.
Sold. Yes, that was certaine he that ridd of by us, When we stood close ith' brakes.
Cap. A devill take it! How are we cozend! pox of our goodly providence! If he get home or if the Cuntry know it!
Sold. Make haste, he is yet unmand: we may come time enough
To enter with him. Besides there's this advantage:
They that are left behind, instead of helping
A Boores Cart ore the Bridge, loden with hay,
Have crackt the ax-tree with a trick, and there it stands
And choakes the Bridge from drawing.
Cap. There's some hope yet. Away and clap on spurs: he shall scape hardly If none of us salute him. Mounte, mounte.
[Exeunt.
Enter Modesbargen & Huntesmen.
Mod. Hell take this hay! 'tis set on purpose here:
Fire it and draw the Bridge: clap faggotts on't
And fire the Cart and all. No Boores come in yet?
Where be your Musketts, Slaves?
Hunt. We have no powder, Sir.
Mod. You have sold me, Rogues, betrayd me: fire the Cart, I say, Or heave it into th' Moat.
Hunt. We have not men enough. Will ye goe in? the Cuntry will rise presently, And then you shall see, Sir, how wee'll buckle with 'em.
Mod. I see I am undon: the[180] hay choakes all, I cannot get beside it.
Enter Captaine & Soldiers.
Cap. Stir not a foote,
For he that do's has mett his preist.—Goe, ceize his body,
But hurt him not. You must along with us, Sir:
We have an easie nag will swym away with ye,—
You ghesse the cause, I am sure. When you are ith' saddle once,
Let your Boores loose; we'll show 'em such a baste.
Do not deiect yourself nor rayle at fortune;
They are no helpes: thincke what you have to answeare.
Mod. Captaine, within this Castle in ready coyne I have a thousand ducketts: doe me one curtesie, It shalbe brought out presently.
Cap. What is it? For I have use of money.
Mod. Doe but shoot me, Clap both your Pistolls into me.
Cap. No, I thanck ye,
I know a trick worth ten o'that: ile love ye
And bring ye to those men that love to see ye.
Away, away; and keepe your pistolls spand still:
We may be forced.
Mod. I am undon for ever.
[Exeunt.
SCAENA 2.
Enter Orange, Bredero, Vandort.
Bred. Is't possible he should be so far tempted[181] To kill himself?
Vand. 'Has don it and most desperately,
Nor could strong nature stay his hand,—his owne Child
That slept beside him: which showes him guilty, lords,
More then we suspected.
Or. 'Tis to be feard soe
And therefore, howsoere I movd your lordships
To a mild and sweet proceeding in this busines,
That nothing might be construde in't malitious
And make the world believe our owne ends wrought it,
Now it concernes ye to put on more strictnes
And with seveerer eyes to looke into it:
Ye robb yourselves of your owne rightes els, Justice,
And loose those pious names your Cuntries safeties.
And sodainely this must be don and constantly:
The powrs ye hold els wilbe scornd & laughd at,
And theis unchristian stroakes be laid to your charge.
Bred. Your Grace goes right; but with what generall safetie
(For ther's the mayne point), if we proceed seveerely
May this be don? We all know how much followed
And with what swarmes of love this Mounsieur Barnavelt
Is courted all the Cuntry over. Besides, at Leyden
We heare how Hogerbeets behaves himself,
And how he stirrs the peoples harts against us.
And Grotius has byn heard to say, and openly,
(A man of no meane mark nor to be slighted)
That if we durst imprison Barnavelt
He would fire the Court and State-house, and that Sacrifize
He would make more glorious with your blood and ours, Sir.
Vand. All angers are not armd; the lowdest Channell Runs shallowest, and there betrayes his weaknes: The deep & silent man threatens the danger.
Or. If they had equall powre to man their wills
And hope, to fling their miseries upon us,
I that nere feard an Army in the feild,
A body of most choice and excellent Soldiers
And led by Captaines honourd for experience:
Can I feare them or shake at their poore whispers?
I that have broke the beds of Mutenies
And bowde againe to faire obedience
Those stubborne necks that burst the raynes of order,
Shall I shrinck now and fall, shot with a rumour?
No, my good Lords, those vollyes never fright me;
Yet, not to seeme remisse or sleep secure here,
I have taken order to prevent their angers;
I have sent Patents[182] out for the choicest Companies
Hether to be remov'd: first, Collonell Veres
From Dort; next Sir Charles Morgans, a stowt Company;
And last my Cosens, the Count Ernests Company:
With theis I doubt not to make good our busines;
They shall not find us babes.
Bred. You are nobely provident.
Vand. And now proceed when it please you, and what you thinck fit We shall subscribe to all.
Or. I thanck your Honours. Call in the Captaine of my Guard.
Serv. Hee's here, Sir.
Enter Captaine.
Or. Harck in your eare.
Cap. I shall, Sir.
Or. Doe it wisely And without tumult.
Cap. I observe your Grace.
Or. Now take your rest, my lords: for what care followes Leave it to me.
All. We wish it all succes, Sir.
[Exeunt.