[SCENE 3.]
Enter Orlando, Reinaldo, Oliver.
Orl. Pray, thee, good coosse, perswade not my beleife;
I cannot stoope[97] the harte of Ganelon.
My crosse unhappye fortune hathe decreed
A never shalbe conquerd; any ells,
Should a but vowe to conquer 50 worlds,
I would beleive a myght doo't: onlye I
Shall never master a dejected slave.
Rei. Indeede tys but your passyon so perswads you.
Oli. Be not fantastyque; that which we perswade
Hathe bothe an eassye and a certayne way,
Nor can it yeild to you a syngle joye
But muche redoobled sweetnes. And behould
Here comes the newe made marquesse.
Enter Richard.
Good sweete lorde,
Give my free speche suer passadge.
… … … … …
0l. Foote! thys newe pyle of honor walks as if A would knocke patts with heaven.
Rich. Tys not unlike Your owne true pryde dothe make you speculous.
Rei. Tys farre shorte of youre sweete harte Ganelons.
Rich. Sir, hees a noble gentyllman.
Oli. A Baboone, A verye windye caske of emptynes.
Rich. I wonder y'are so impudent. My frende
Hath vertues lefte: if you had eyther shame
Or charytie you would accuse your lybells.
But as the ravens which in Arabia live,
Haveinge flowne all the feylde of spyces ore,
Seaze on a stynkinge carkasse, so doe you
Swiftlye leape over a most plentyous vale
Of good examples which grace Ganelon
And fasten on the scandall which was formd
By a lewde treacherous knave to gett rewarde.
Oli. I give your aplycatyon the broade lye.
Rich. And tys thy last foule languadge. [Offer to Drawe.
Orl. Hould! who drawes must be myne enemye.
Rich. I'm easlye chydd from tumulte, but, deare Sir, Tell me in pryvatt howe you dare maynteyne it. [Whisper.
Enter alofte[98] Ganelon.
Gan.—Yonder a stands consultinge with my foes.
Perhapps thys present mynute he reveales
My systers whoredome, or to take away
All feare of my revendge he now contryves
That my sadd deathe may fynishe my disgrace.
Myne eies are dazeld, but it is no wonder,
For in that glassye fellowe I dyserne
The true reflectyon of my fate & feares.
Tys he, tys he; there wants but a good crossbowe[99]
To levell at hys harte nowe. I began
A littill synce to chide my rashe beleife
And so was readye to tourne foole agayne;
But I am nowe deliverd & hencefourthe,
If wisdome or occassyon doe me righte,
I will determine never to mystake.
Heres a full proofe of what my mother spake.
Oli. As I respect myne honor I will meete you.
Rei. Are you agreed?
Oli. Yes, sir.
Orl. Away and shape our purposse.
[Ex. all but Richard.
Rich. Tys put to tryall; but I doe suspecte
Theire whysprynge plotts. Thys equall hazard may
Shadowe the meanynge of some certayne danger,
The rather synce Reinaldo seconds it.
I must see Ganelon & speake theise douts:
This quarrell most concerns hym, for the wronge
And capytall abuse toucht onlye hym.
I gave a constant promyse never more
To vyssytt hym without the emperours leave,
And yet I will adventure. He may guesse
At secrett workings & confyrme my feare.
Thys nighte I will adventure, & obay
As he shall fashyion me to meete or stay.
[Ex.
Actus 5.
[SCENE 1.]
Enter Eldegrade & Didier.
Eld. What, have you vyssyted my greived sonne?
Did. Madam, I have.
Eld. And you are reconcyld? you see hys harte
Is made of meltinge waxe & not of marble.
Faythe, twas a harde parte; you have brought us lowe,
Lowe as the earthe we treade on, but Ile ceasse
Further reitteratyon: synce hees pleasd
To burye all, I wilbe patyent;
You knowe I ever lovd you & you have
Doone me most worthye, honest offyces.
Did. And many more will dedycatt unto you;
My lorde & I am reconcyld at full
And have disburdend all our greivances.
I doe confes I was bewytcht with fate
But will redeeme myne error; synce I knowe
He loves me nowe more then he did before,
I will deserv't so bravely you shall call
And sweare I am a noble instrument.
Eld. You trust hys protestatyons then?
Did. Madam, or ells I were an Infidell.
[Eld.] … … … … …
And I could chyde my love that pytties you.
He dothe dissemble with you; you are lost.
Of myne owne knowlege he hathe layd suche baytts
You cannot live twoe howers. Goe where you will,
He hathe a plott that haunts you. If you can
Fynde for your selfe any preventyon,
Use it with quycke indevor; for I knowe
The thunder speaks that presentlye will splytt you.
Did. You doe amaze me.
Eld. And like the chaesd Roe stand in that amaze
Tyll the hounds catche you. What I speake
Is to prevent your present tragedye
And to blott murder from my Ganelon.
Be wise. [Ex. Eldegrad.
Did. Am I then noosd! will styll my villanous wytts
Betray me to mysfortune, am I lymed!
What shall I doe? flight will not nowe avayle me.
I knowe hys projects like hys mallyce runns
To everye place of hoped securytie.
I have't: thys key, which I have choycelye kepte
(Longe synce by me most fynelye counterfaytt)
Enters hys chambers & hys cabanett
And everye place retyrd. I am resolvde;
Thoughe I had thousand ways to scape besyde,
Yet I will stay onlye to murther hym.
Within hys lodginge will I hyde me safe,
And when sleepe lulls hym—farwell Ganelon!
He shall not outlive mydnyght: here Ile lye,
And thoughe I followe nexte thys lorde shall dye.
[Hydes hym.
Enter Ganelon.
Gan. My plotts are layd most certayne & no fatte
Can interposse betwixte theym: Didier dyes
And so shall Richarde. O the wearye thoughts
That keepe a daylie senate in my braynes,
Repeat unto me what I loathe to heare,
A frends disloyaltye. Be wysser you
That undertake the greate & hallowed leauge
Of frendlye comforte. Scoole your ryotous bloode
And teache your fancyes Wisdome; be not drawne
With suche a frayle unproffytable thynge
As face or person when you chusse a frende;
Th'are all deceytfull. Would my funerall rytts
Were as I wishe provyded, to dispeirse
A warnynge by my horryble abuse,
And I would dye to morrowe. I lament
That such another pyttied foole as I
Should be amongst the liveinge.—Harke! who knocks?
[Richard knocks.
Aunswere, what are you?
Rich. Open to your frende.
Gan. O my starrs, tys he! can myschiefe thus Come flyinge to my bossome?—Sir, I come To open twoe dores, thys & thy false bossome. [Stabbs hym.
Rich. O y'ave slayne me! tell me, cruell Sir, Why you have doone thys that myne inocent soule May teache repentance to you— [Dies.
Gan. Speake it out.
What, not a worde? dumbe with a littill blowe?
You are growne statlye, are you? tys even so:
You have the trycke of mightie men in courte
To speake at leasure & pretend imployment.
Well, take your tyme; tys not materyall
Whether you speake the resydue behynde
Nowe or at doomes day. If thy comon sence
Be not yet parted from thee, understande
I doe not cursse[100] thee dyinge, because once
I loved thee dearlye; & collect by that
There is no devyll in me nor in hell
That could have flesht me to thys violent deathe,
Hadst thou beene false to all the worlde but me.—
But he is nowe past thynkinge on for that,
And were he buryed all were perfytted.
[Didier stepps out.
Did. What will you say if I become the sexton?
Gan. That after that thou mayst hang thy selfe ithe bellropps. —What makst thou heare?
Did. I will assuer you, Sir, No legge to your wise lordshypp for my life, Thyngs standinge as they doe.
Gan. Verye good, Sir, Y'are wondrous merry.
Did. Can you blame me, Sir, When I may treade upon myne enemye? I am your condemd creature, I am lost.
Gan. … … … … … Howe camst thou hyther?
Did. Why, looke you, Sir, by thys, [Shoes the key.
Thys that Ive kepte as a stronge cordyall
Agaynst your vyllanyes. Nay, behould it well,
For as I live tys counterfayte.
Gan. What a leaden-skulld slave he maks me.— Why, art thou doutfull of me? faythe I love thee.
Did. Yes, as the devyll does freirs holye water.
Come, I doe knowe your practyse gaynst my life,
And ment my selfe t'have easd myne injuryes;
But nowe thys act hathe given you to the lawe
And saved me from all daunger.
Gan. What! that I
Have practysd gaynst thee! tys most damned false.
I doe protest I love thee trulye, fullye.
Come, let us joyne; my contyence says thou didst
But what was good & noble.
Did. Nay, by's lighte,
I make no suyte fort, tys at your free choyce.
If I but chaunce to toule hys passinge bell
And give the parryshe notyce who is dead,
You know what tends the rumor.
Gan. Come, no more;
I faythe I love thee dearelye, trust uppon't;
And to abandon feare on eyther parte,
Give the dead carcasse lodginge in the ground:
We bothe are safe & thys newe frendshypp sounde.
Did. Once more Ile trust you.
Come, then, my burthen, no, my wellcome taske.
Howe prosperous villanye keepes all in awe:
We are saved by that which glutts bothe deathe & lawe.
[Exe. with the dead.