FOOTNOTES:
[449] [MS. and former edit., yonder.]
[450] [So MS. The former edit. printed destruction.]
[451] [Former edit., reads, with the MS., concern'd.]
[452] [So MS. Former edit., gain.]
[453] [This and the next three lines have been lightly struck through in the MS.]
[454] [MS. and former edit., have hide—book; which appears to be nonsense; nor is the text, as amended, satisfactory.]
[455] [The MS. reads nor, with the edition of 1824.]
[456] [MS. and former edit., is his.]
[457] [Former edit., peace.]
[458] [The metre halts much here, in consequence of alterations having been made, and passages scored out, without proper care.]
ACT II.[459], SCENE I.
Enter the Lady OF Govianus with a Servant.
Lady. Who is't would speak with us?
Serv. My lord your father.
Lady. Pray make haste; he waits too long.
Entreat him hither. In despite of all [Exit Servant.
The tyrant's cruelties, we have got the[460] friendship
E'en of the guard that he has plac'd about us,
My lord and I have free access together,
As much as I would ask of liberty;
They'll trust us largely now, and keep sometimes
Three hours from us, a rare courtesy
In jailers' children; some mild news, I hope,
Comes with my father.
Enter Helvetius.
No, his looks are sad;
There is some further tyranny; let it fall!
Our constant sufferings shall amaze it all. [She kneels.
Hel. Rise.
I will not bless thee: thy obedience
Is after custom, as most rich men pray,
Whose saint is only fashion and vainglory;
So 'tis with thee in thy dissembled duty,
There's no religion in't, no reverent love:
Only for fashion and the praise of men.
Lady. Why should you think so, sir?
Hel. Think? I know't and see't.
I'll sooner give my blessing to a drunkard,
Whom the ridiculous power of wine makes humble,
As foolish use makes thee. Base-spirited girl,
That can'st not think above disgrace and beggary,
When glory is set for thee and thy seed,
Advancement for thy father, beside joy
Able to make a latter spring in me
In this my fourscore-summer, and renew me
With a reversion yet of heat and youth!
But the dejection of thy mind and spirit
Makes me (thy father) guilty of a fault
That draws thy birth in question, and e'en wrongs
Thy mother in her ashes, being at peace
With heav'n and man. Had not her life and virtues
Been seals unto her faith, I should think thee now
The work of some hir'd servant, some house-tailor,
And no one part of my endeavour in thee.
Had I neglected greatness; or not rather
Pursu'd ['t] almost to my eternal hazard,
Thou'dst ne'er been a lord's daughter!
Lady. Had I been
A shepherd's, I'd been happier and more peaceful.
Hel. Thy very seed will curse thee in thy age,
When they shall hear the story of thy weakness:
How in thy youth thy fortunes tender'd thee
A kingdom for thy servant, which thou left'st
Basely to serve thyself; what dost thou in this,
But merely cosen thy posterity
Of royalty and succession, and thyself
Of dignity present?
Lady. Sir, your king did well
'Mongst all his nobles to pick out yourself,
And send you with these words: his politic grace
Knew what he did, for well he might imagine
None else should have been heard; they'd had their answer,
Before the question had been half-way through.
But, dearest sir, I owe to you a reverence,
A debt which both begins and ends with life:
Never till then discharg'd, 'tis so long lasting.
Yet could you be more precious than a father,
(Which next a husband is the richest treasure
Mortality can show us) you should pardon me,
And yet confess too that you found me kind
To hear your words, though I withstood your mind.
Hel. Say you so, daughter? Troth, I thank you kindly.
I am in hope to rise well by your means,
Or you to raise yourself; we're both beholding to you.
Well, since I cannot win you, I commend you:
I praise your constancy, and pardon you.
Take Govianus to you, make the most of him,
Pick out your husband there, so you'll but grant me
One light request that follows.
Lady. Heaven forbid else, sir!
Hel. Give me the choosing of your friend, that's all.
Lady. How, sir, my friend?—a light request indeed!
Somewhat too light, sir, either for my wearing
Or your own gravity, an' you look on't well!
Hel. Pish! Talk like a woman, girl, not like a fool!
Thou knowest the end of greatness, and hast wit.
Above the flight of twenty feather'd mistresses,
That glister in the sun of princes' favours.
Thou hast discourse in thee fit for a king's fellowship,
A princely carriage and astonishing presence.
What should a husband do with all this goodness?
Alas! one end on't is too much for him,
Nor is it fit a subject should be master
Of such a jewel. Tis in the king's power
To take it for the forfeit; but I come
To bear thee gently to his bed of honours,
All force forgotten. The king commends him to thee
With more than the humility of a servant,
That since thou wilt not yield to be his queen,
Be yet his mistress; he shall be content
With that or nothing—he shall ask no more;
And with what easiness that is perform'd.
Most of you women know, having a husband.
That kindness costs thee nothing, you've that in,
All over and above to your first bargain,
And that's a brave advantage for a woman,
If she be wise, as I suspect not thee.
And having youth and beauty, and a husband,
Thou'st all the wish of woman. Take thy time, then:
Make thy best market.
Lady. Can you assure me, sir,
Whether my father spake this, or some spirit
Of evil-wishing, that has for a time
Hir'd his voice of him to beguile me that way,
Presuming on his power and my obedience?
I'd gladly know, that I might frame an answer
According to the speaker.
Hel. How now, baggage!
Am I in question with thee? Does thy scorn cast
So thick an ignorance before thine eyes,
That I'm forgotten too? Who is't speaks to thee,
But I, thy father?
Enter Govianus, discharging a pistol.
Gov. The more monstrous he! [Helvetius falls.
Art down but with the bare voice of my fury?
Up, ancient sinner! thou'rt but mock'd with death,
I miss'd thee purposely, thank this dear creature.
O, hadst thou been anything beside her father,
I'd made a fearful reparation[461] on thee;
I would have sent thy soul to a darker prison
Than any made of clay, and thy dead body
As a token to the lustful king thy master.
Art thou struck down so soon with the short sound
Of this small earthly instrument, and dost thou
So little fear the eternal noise of hell?
What's she? Does she not bear thy daughter's name?
How stirs thy blood, sir? Is there a dead feeling
Of all things fatherly and honest in thee?
Say, thou couldst be content, for greatness' sake,
To end the last act of thy life in pandrism,
Must it needs follow that unmanly sin
Can work upon the weakness of no woman
But her, whose name and honour natural love
Bids thee preserve more charily than eyesight,
Health, or thy senses? Can promotion's thirst
Make such a father? turn a grave old lord
To a white-headed squire? make him so base
To buy his honours with his daughter's soul
And the perpetual shaming of his blood?
Hast thou the leisure, thou forgetful man,
To think upon advancement at these years?
What wouldst thou do with greatness? dost thou hope
To fray death with't? or hast thou that conceit,
That honour will restore thy youth again?
Thou art but mock'd, old fellow! 'tis not so;
Thy hopes abuse thee, follow thine own business.
And list not to the syren of the world.
Alas! thou hadst more need kneel at an altar
Than to a chair of state,
And search thy conscience for thy sins of youth:
That's work enough for age, it needs no greater.
Thou'rt call'd within, thy very eyes look inward,
To teach thy thoughts the way; and thy affections
But miserable notes that conscience sings,
That cannot truly pray for flattering kings.
Hel. This was well-search'd indeed, and without favouring;
Blessing reward thee! such a wound as mine
Did need a pitiless surgeon. Smart on, soul!
Thou'lt feel the less hereafter. Sir, I thank you,
I ever saw myself in a false glass
Until this friendly hour. With what fair faces
My sins would look on me! but now truth shows 'em,
How loathsome and how monstrous are their forms!
Be you my king and master still! henceforward
My knee shall know no other earthly lord.
Well may I spend this life to do you service,
That sets my soul in her eternal path!
Gov. Rise, rise, Helvetius!
Hel. I'll see both your hands
Set to my pardon first.
Gov. Mine shall bring her's.
Lady. Now, sir, I honour you for your goodness chiefly,
You're my most worthy father, you speak like him;
The first voice was not his; my joy and reverence
Strive which should be most seen; let our hands, sir,
Raise you from earth thus high, and may it prove
[They raise him up.
The first ascent of your immortal rising,
Never to fall again!
Hel. A spring of blessings
Keep ever with thee, and the fruit thy lord's!
Gov. I have lost an enemy, and have found a father. [Exeunt.
Enter Votarius, sadly.
Vot. All's gone; there's nothing but the prodigal left;
I have played away my soul at one short game,
Where e'en the winner loses.
Pursuing sin, how often did I shun thee!
How swift art thou afoot, beyond man's goodness,
Which has a lazy pace! so was I catch'd—
curse upon the cause; man in these days
Is not content to have his lady honest,
And so rest pleased with her without more toil,
But he must have her try'd, forsooth, and tempted;
And when she proves a quean, then he lies quiet,
Like one that has a watch of curious making,
Thinking to be more cunning than the workman,
Never gives over tampering with the wheels,
'Till either spring be weaken'd, balance bow'd,
Or some wrong pin put in, and so spoils all.
How I could curse myself! most business else
Delights in the despatch, that's the best grace to't,
Only this work of blind repented lust
Hangs shame and sadness on his master's cheek:
Yet wise men take no warning.
Enter Wife.
Nor can I now:
Her very sight strikes my repentance backward.
It cannot stand against her. Chamber-thoughts
And words that have sport in 'em—they're for ladies!
Wife. My best and dearest servant!
Vot. Worthiest mistress.
Enter Leonella.
Madam——
Wife. Who's that? my woman—
Proceed, sir——
Leo. Not if you love your honour, madam,
I came to give you warning my lord's come——
Vot. How!
Wife. My lord?
Leo. Alas! poor vessels, how this tempest tosses 'em,
They're driven both asunder in a twinkling.
Down goes the sails here, and the main-mast yonder,
Here rides a bark with better fortune: yet
I fear no tossing, come what weather will,
I have a trick to hold on water still. [Aside.
Vot. His very name shoots like a fever through me,
Now hot, now cold: which cheek shall I turn toward him,
For fear he should read guiltiness in my looks?
I would he would keep from hence, like a wise man:
'Tis no place for him now; I would not see him
Of any friend alive! it is not fit
We two should come together, we have abus'd
Each other mightily; he used me ill
T'employ me thus, and I have used him worse;
I'm too much even with him——
Enter Anselmus.
Wife. My lov'd and honour'd lord? Most welcome, sir.
Leo. O, there's a kiss! methinks my lord might taste
Dissimulation rank in't, if he had wit.
He takes but of the breath of his friend's life,
A second kiss is hers, but that she keeps
For her first friend: we women have no cunning!
[Aside.
Wife. You parted strangely from me.
Ans. That's forgotten!
Votarius, I make speed to be in thine arms.
Vot. You never 'come too soon, sir.
Ans. How goes business? [Aside.
Vot. Pray, think upon some other subject, sir.
What news at court?
Ans. Pish! answer me. [Aside.
Vot. Alas! sir, would you have me work my wonders,
To strike fire out of ye? y' are a strange lord, sir;
Put me to possible things, and find 'em finish'd
At your return to me; I can say no more. [Aside.
Ans. I see by this thou didst not try her throughly. [Aside.
Vot. How, sir, not throughly! by this light, he lives not,
That could make trial of a woman better. [Aside.
Ans. I fear thou wast too slack. [Aside.
Vot. Good faith, you wrong me, sir.
She never found it so. [Aside.
Ans. Then I've a jewel,
And nothing shall be thought too precious for her.
I may advance my forehead, and breathe[462] purely:
Methinks I see her worth with clear eyes now.
O, when a man's opinion is at peace,
'Tis a fine life to marry! no state's like it. [Aside.
My worthy lady, freely I confess
To thy wrong'd heart my passion had a-late
Put rudeness on me, which I now put off:
I will no more seem so unfashionable
For pleasure and the chamber of a lady.
Wife. I'm glad you're chang'd so well, sir.
[Exeunt Wife and Anselmus.
Vot. Thank himself for't.
Leo. This comes like physic, when the party's dead.
Flows kindness now, when 'tis so ill-deserv'd?
This is the fortune still: well, for this trick
I'll save my husband and his friend a labour:
I'll never marry as long as I am honest,
For commonly queans have the kindest husbands.
[Exit Leonella, manet Votarius.
Vot. I do not like his company now, 'tis irksome:
His eye offends me; methinks it is not kindly,
We two should live together in one house;
And 'tis impossible to remove me hence:
I must not give way first, she is my mistress,
And that's a degree kinder than a wife;
Women are always better to their friends
Than to their husbands, and more true to them;
Then let the worst give place, whom she's least need on—
He that can best be spar'd—and that's her husband.
I do not like his overboldness with her;
He's too familiar with the face I love.
I fear the sickness of affection;
I feel a grudging on't: I shall grow jealous
E'en of that pleasure which she has by law.
I shall go so near with her;—
Enter Bellarius, passing over the stage.
Ha! what's he!
'Tis Bellarius, my rank enemy;
Mine eye snatch'd so much sight of him. What's his business?
His face half-darkened: stealing through the house
With a whoremaster's pace—I like it not.
This lady will be serv'd, like a great woman,
With more attendants, I perceive, than one.
She has her shift of friends—my enemy one!
Do we both shun each other's company
In all assemblies public, at all meetings,
And drink to one another in one mistress?
My very thought's my poison; 'tis high time
To seek for help. Where is our head physician,
A doctor of my making and that lecher's?
O woman! when thou once leav'st to be good,
Thou car'st not who stands next thee; every sin
Is a companion for thee: for thy once-crack'd honesty
Is like the breaking of whole money:
It never comes to good, but wastes away.
Enter Anselmus.
Ans. Votarius!
Vot. Ha!
Ans. We miss'd you, sir, within.
Vot. I miss'd you more without. Would you had come sooner, sir!
Ans. Why, what's the business I
Vot. You should have seen a fellow,
A common bawdy-house ferret, one Bellarius,
Steal through this room, his whorish barren face
Three quarters muffled: he is somewhere hid
About the house, sir.
Ans. Which way took the villain,
That marriage felon—one that robs the mind
Twenty times worse than any highway-striker,
Speak, which way took he?
Vot. Marry, my lord, I think,—
Let me see, which way wast now? up yon stairs—
Ans. The way to chamb'ring; did not I say still
All thy temptations were too faint and lazy;
Thou didst not play 'em home.
Vot. To tell you true, sir,
I found her yielding, 'ere I left her last,
And wav'ring in her faith.
Ans. Did not I think so?
Vot. That makes me suspect him.
Ans. Why, partial man,
Couldst thou hide this from me, so dearly sought for,
And rather waste thy pity upon her?
Thou'rt not so kind as my heart prais'd thee to me. Hark!
Vot. 'Tis his footing, certain.
Ans. Are you chamber'd?
I'll fetch you from aloft. [Exit Anselmus.
Vot. He takes my work,
And toils to bring me ease: this use I'll make of him;
His care shall watch to keep all strange thieves out,
Whilst I familiarly go in and rob him,
Like one that knows the house.
But how has rashness and my jealousy us'd me!
Out of my vengeance to mine enemy,
Confess'd her yielding: I have lock'd myself
From mine own liberty with that key; revenge
Does no man good, but to his greater harm;
Suspect and malice, like a mingled cup,
Made me soon drunk; I knew not what I spoke;
And that may get me pardon. [Exit.
Enter Anselmus, a dagger in his hand, with Leonella.
Leo. Why, my lord!
Ans. Confess, thou mystical panderess! Run, Votarius,
To the back gate, the guilty slave leap'd out,
And 'scap'd me so; this strumpet lock'd him up
In her own chamber. [Exit Votarius.
Leo. Hold, my lord—I might.
He is my husband, sir!
Ans. O soul of cunning!
Came that arch subtlety from thy lady's counsel
Or thine own sudden craft? Confess to me,
How oft thou hast been a bawd to their close actions,
Or all thy light goes out?
Leo. My lord, believe me—
In truth, I love a man too well myself
To bring him to my mistress.
Ans. Leave thy sporting!
Or my next offer makes thy heart weep blood.
Leo. O, spare that strength, my lord, and I'll reveal
A secret that concerns you; for this does not.
Ans. Back, back, my fury, then!
It shall not touch thy breast; speak freely, what is't?
Leo. Votarius and my lady are false gamesters;
They use foul play, my lord.
Ans. Thou liest.
Leo. Reward me then for altogether; if it prove not so,
I'll never bestow time to ask your pity.
Ans. Votarius and thy lady? 'twill ask days
Ere it be settled in belief. So, rise!
Go, get thee to thy chamber! [Exit.
Leo. A pox on you!
You hind'red me of better business: thank you.
He's fray'd a secret from me; would he were whipp'd!
Faith, from a woman a thing's quickly slipp'd. [Exit.