Duke. Come seat your selves: Lord Archas sit you there.
Ar. 'Tis far above my worth.
Duke. I'le have it so:
Are all things ready?
Bor. All the Guards are set,
The Court Gates are shut.
Duke. Then do as I prescrib'd ye.
Be sure no further.
Bor. I shall well observe ye.
Du. Come bring some wine: here's to my Sister, Gentlemen;
A health, and mirth to all.
Ar. Pray fill it full, Sir.
'Tis a high health to vertue: here Lord Burris,
A maiden health: you are most fit to pledge it,
You have a maiden soul and much I honour it.
Passion o' me, ye are sad man.
Duke. How now, Burris?
Go to, no more of this.
Ar. Take the rowse freely,
'Twill warm your bloud, and make ye fit for jollity.
Your Graces pardon: when we get a cup, Sir,
We old men prate a pace.
Du. Mirth makes a Banquet;
As you love me no more.
Bur. I thank your Grace.
Give me it; Lord Boroskie.
Boros. I have ill brains, Sir.
Bur. Damnable ill, I know it.
Boros. But I'le pledge, Sir,
This vertuous health.
Bur. The more unfit for thy mouth.
Enter two Servants with Cloaks.
Du. Come, bring out Robes, and let my guests look nobly,
Fit for my love and presence: begin downward.
Off with your Cloaks, take new.
Ar. Your grace deals truly,
Like a munificent Prince, with your poor subjects,
Who would not fight for you? what cold dull coward
Durst seek to save his life when you would ask it?
Begin a new health in your new adornments,
The Dukes, the Royal Dukes: ha! what have I got
Sir? ha! the Robe of death?
Du. You have deserv'd it.
Ar. The Livery of the Grave? do you start all from me?
Do I smell of earth already? Sir, look on me,
And like a man; is this your entertainment?
Do you bid your worthiest guests to bloudy Banquets?
Enter a Guard.
A Guard upon me too? this is too foul play
Boy to thy good, thine honour: thou wretched Ruler,
Thou Son of fools and flatterers, Heir of hypocrites,
Am I serv'd in a Hearse that sav'd ye all?
Are ye men or Devils? Do ye gape upon me,
Wider, and swallow all my services?
Entomb them first, my faith next, then my integrity,
And let these struggle with your mangy minds,
Your sear'd, and seal'd up Consciences, till they burst.
Boros. These words are death.
Ar. No those deeds that want rewards, Sirrah,
Those Battels I have fought, those horrid dangers,
Leaner than death, and wilder than destruction,
I have march'd upon, these honour'd wounds, times story,
The bloud I have lost, the youth, the sorrows suffer'd,
These are my death, these that can ne're be recompenced,
These that ye sit a brooding on like Toads,
Sucking from my deserts the sweets and favours,
And render me no pay again but poysons.
Bor. The proud vain Souldier thou hast set—
Ar. Thou lyest.
Now by my little time of life lyest basely,
Malitiously and loudly: how I scorn thee!
If I had swel'd the Souldier, or intended
An act in person, leaning to dishonour,
As ye would fain have forced me, witness Heaven,
Where clearest understanding of all truth is,
(For these are spightful men, and know no piety)
When Olin came, grim Olin, when his marches,
His last Incursions made the City sweat,
And drove before him, as a storm drives Hail,
Such showrs of frosted fears, shook all your heart-strings;
Then when the Volga trembled at his terrour,
And hid his seven curl'd heads, afraid of bruising,
By his arm'd Horses hoofs; had I been false then,
Or blown a treacherous fire into the Souldier,
Had but one spark of villany liv'd within me,
Ye'ad had some shadow for this black about me.
Where was your Souldiership? why went not you out?
And all your right honourable valour with ye?
Why met ye not the Tartar, and defi'd him?
Drew your dead-doing sword, and buckl'd with him?
Shot through his Squadrons like a fiery Meteor?
And as we see a dreadful clap of Thunder
Rend the stiffhearted Oaks, and toss their roots up:
Why did not you so charge him? you were sick then,
You that dare taint my credit slipt to bed then,
Stewing and fainting with the fears ye had,
A whorson shaking fit opprest your Lordship:
Blush Coward, Knave, and all the world hiss at thee.
Du. Exceed not my command. [Exit.
Bor. I shall observe it.
Ar. Are you gone too? Come weep not honest Burris,
Good loving Lord, no more tears: 'tis not his malice,
This fellows malice, nor the Dukes displeasure,
By bold bad men crowded into his nature,
Can startle me: fortune ne're raz'd this Fort yet:
I am the same, the same man, living, dying;
The same mind to 'em both, I poize thus equal;
Only the jugling way that toll'd me to it,
The Judas way, to kiss me, bid me welcome,
And cut my throat, a little sticks upon me.
Farewel, commend me to his Grace, and tell him,
The world is full of servants, he may have many:
And some I wish him honest: he's undone else:
But such another doating Archas never,
So try'd and touch'd a faith: farewell for ever.
Bur. Be strong my Lord: you must not go thus lightly.
Ar. Now, what's to do? what sayes the Law unto me?
Give me my great offence that speaks me guil[t]y.
Bor. Laying aside a thousand petty matters,
As scorns, and insolencies both from your self and followers,
Which you put first fire to, and these are deadly,
I come to one main cause, which though it carries
A strangeness in the circumstance, it carries death too,
Not to be pardon'd neither: ye have done a sacriledge.
Ar. High Heaven defend me man: how, how Boroskie?
Bor. Ye have took from the Temple those vow'd Arms,
The holy Ornament you hung up there,
No absolution of your vow, no order
From holy Church to give 'em back unto you
After they were purified from War, and rested
From bloud, made clean by ceremony: from the Altar
You snatch'd 'em up again, again ye wore 'em,
Again you stain'd 'em, stain'd your vow, the Church too,
And rob'd it of that right was none of yours, Sir,
For which the Law requires your head, ye know it.
Ar. Those arms I fought in last?
Bor. The same.
Ar. God a mercy,
Thou hast hunted out a notable cause to kill me:
A subtle one: I dye, for saving all you;
Good Sir, remember if you can, the necessity,
The suddenness of time, the state all stood in;
I was entreated to, kneel'd to, and pray'd to,
The Duke himself, the Princes, all the Nobles,
The cries of Infants, Bed-rid Fathers, Virgins;
Prethee find out a better cause, a handsomer,
This will undo thee too: people will spit at thee,
The Devil himself would be asham'd of this cause;
Because my haste made me forget the ceremony,
The present danger every where, must my life satisfie?
Bor. It must, and shall.
Ar. O base ungrateful people,
Have ye no other Swords to cut my throat with
But mine own nobleness? I confess, I took 'em,
The vow not yet absolv'd I hung 'em up with:
Wore 'em, fought in 'em, gilded 'em again
In the fierce Tartars blouds; for you I took 'em,
For your peculiar safety, Lord, for all,
I wore 'em for my Countries health, that groan'd then:
Took from the Temple, to preserve the Temple;
That holy place, and all the sacred monuments,
The reverent shrines of Saints, ador'd and honour'd,
Had been consum'd to ashes, their own sacrifice;
Had I been slack, or staid that absolution,
No Priest had liv'd to give it; my own honour,
Cure of my Country murder me?
Bor. No, no Sir,
I shall force that from ye, will make this cause light too,
Away with him: I shall pluck down that heart, Sir.
Ar. Break it thou mayest; but if it bend, for pity,
Doggs, and Kites eat it: come I am honours Martyr. [Ex.
SCENE VI.
Enter Duke, and Burris.
Du. Exceed my Warrant?
Bur. You know he loves him not.
Du. He dares as well eat death, as do it, eat wild-fire,
Through a few fears I mean to try his goodness,
That I may find him fit, to wear here, Burris;
I know Boroskie hates him, to death hates him,
I know he's a Serpent too, a swoln one, [Noise within.
But I have pull'd his sting out: what noise is that?
The. within. Down with 'em, down with 'em, down with the gates.
Sold. within. Stand, stand, stand.
Puts. within. Fire the Palace before ye.
Bur. Upon my life the Souldier, Sir, the Souldier,
A miserable time is come.
Enter Gentleman.
Gent. Oh save him,
Upon my knees, my hearts knees, save Lord Archas,
We are undone else.
Du. Dares he touch his Body?
Gent. He racks him fearfully, most fearfully.
Du. Away Burris,
Take men, and take him from him; clap him up,
And if I live, I'll find a strange death for him. [Ex. Bur.
Are the Souldiers broke in?
Gent. By this time sure they are, Sir,
They beat the Gates extreamly, beat the people.
Du. Get me a guard about me; make sure the lodgings,
And speak the Souldiers fair.
Gent. Pray Heaven that take, Sir. [Exeunt.