Venus. Fierce is the fight, and bloody is the broil.
No sooner had the roaring cannon shot
Spit forth the venom of their firèd paunch,
And with their pellets sent such troops of souls
Down to the bottom of the dark Avern,
As that it cover'd all the Stygian fields;
But, on a sudden, all the men-at-arms,
Which mounted were on lusty coursers' backs,
Did rush together with so great a noise
As that I thought the giants one time more
Did scale the heavens, as erst they did before.
Long time dame Fortune temper'd so her wheel
As that there was no vantage to be seen
On any side, but equal was the gain;
But at the length, so God and Fates decreed,
Alphonsus was the victor of the field,
And Amurack became his prisoner;
Who so remain'd, until his daughter came,
And by her marrying did his pardon frame. [Exit.
SCENE I.—A Battle-field near Naples.
Alarum: Amurack flies, followed by Alphonsus, who takes him prisoner and carries him in. Alarum: as Crocon and Faustus are flying, enter Fausta and Iphigena, with their army, meeting them.
Fausta. You Turkish kings, what sudden flight is this?
What mean the men, which for their valiant prowess
Were dreaded erst clean through the triple world,
Thus cowardly to turn their backs and fly?
What froward fortune happen'd on your side?
I hope your king in safety doth abide?
Cro. Ay, noble madam, Amurack doth live,
And long I hope he shall enjoy his life;
But yet I fear, unless more succour come,
We shall both lose our king and sovereign.
Fausta. How so, King Crocon? dost thou speak in jest,
To prove if Fausta would lament his death?
Or else hath anything hapt him amiss?
Speak quickly, Crocon, what the cause might be,
That thou dost utter forth these words to me.
Cro. Then, worthy Fausta, know that Amurack
Our mighty king, and your approvèd spouse,
Prick'd with desire of everlasting fame,
As he was pressing in the thickest ranks
Of Arragonians, was, with much ado,
At length took prisoner by Alphonsus' hands.
So that, unless you succour soon do bring,
You lose your spouse, and we shall want our king.
Iphi. O hapless hap, O dire and cruel fate!
What injury hath Amurack, my sire,
Done to the gods, which now I know are wroth,
Although unjustly and without a cause?
For well I wot, not any other king,
Which now doth live, or since the world begun
Did sway a sceptre, had a greater care
To please the gods than mighty Amurack:
And for to quite our father's great good-will,
Seek they thus basely all his fame to spill?
Fausta. Iphigena, leave off these woful tunes:
It is not words can cure and case this wound,
But warlike swords; not tears, but sturdy spears.
High Amurack is prisoner to our foes:
What then? Think you that our Amazones,
Join'd with the forces of the Turkish troop,
Are not sufficient for to set him free?
Yes, daughter, yes, I mean not for to sleep
Until he is free, or we him company keep.—
March on, my mates. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—Another Part of the Field.
Alarum: enter Alphonsus in flight, followed by Iphigena.
Iphi. How now, Alphonsus! you which never yet
Could meet your equal in the feats of arms,
How haps it now that in such sudden sort
You fly the presence of a silly maid?
What, have you found mine arm of such a force
As that you think your body over-weak
For to withstand the fury of my blows?
Or do you else disdain to fight with me,
For staining of your high nobility?
Alphon. No, dainty dame, I would not have thee think
That ever thou or any other wight
Shall live to see Alphonsus fly the field
From any king or keisar whosome'er:
First will I die in thickest of my foe,
Before I will disbase mine honour so.
Nor do I scorn, thou goddess, for to stain
My prowess with thee, although it be a shame
For knights to combat with the female sect:[50]
But love, sweet mouse, hath so benumbed my wit,
That, though I would, I must refrain from it.
Iphi. I thought as much when first I came to wars;
Your noble acts were fitter to be writ
Within the tables of Dame Venus' son,
Than in God Mars his warlike registers:
Whenas your lords are hacking helms abroad,
And make their spears to shiver in the air,
Your mind is busied in fond Cupid's toys.
Come on, i' faith, I'll teach you for to know
We came to fight, and not to love, I trow.
Alphon. Nay, virgin, stay. An if thou wilt vouchsafe
To entertain Alphonsus' simple suit,
Thou shalt ere long be monarch of the world:
All christen'd kings, with all your pagan dogs,
Shall bend their knees unto Iphigena;
The Indian soil shall be thine at command,
Where every step thou settest on the ground
Shall be receivèd on the golden mines;
Rich Pactolus,[51] that river of account,
Which doth descend from top of Tmolus Mount,
Shall be thine own, and all the world beside,
If you will grant to be Alphonsus' bride.
Iphi. Alphonsus' bride! nay, villain, do not think
That fame or riches can so rule my thoughts
As for to make me love and fancy him
Whom I do hate, and in such sort despise,
As, if my death could bring to pass his bane,
I would not long from Pluto's port remain.
Alphon. Nay, then, proud peacock, since thou art so stout
As that entreaty will not move thy mind
For to consent to be my wedded spouse,
Thou shalt, in spite of gods and fortune too,
Serve high Alphonsus as a concubine.
Iphi. I'll rather die than ever that shall hap.
Alphon. And thou shalt die unless it come to pass.
[Alphonsus and Iphigena fight. Iphigena flies followed by Alphonsus.
SCENE III.—The Camp of Alphonsus.
Alarum. Enter Alphonsus with his rapier, Albinius, Lælius, Miles, with their Soldiers; Amurack, Fausta, Iphigena, Crocon, and Faustus, all bound, with their hands behind them. Amurack looks angrily on Fausta.
Enter Medea.