Enter the KING, PHILARCHUS and his FATHER, DUNSTAN and attendants.
KING.
Father, say on; for now my leisure serves,
And Edgar gives thee leave to tell thy mind;
For I perceive thine eyes are full of tears,
Which shows that many inward passions trouble thee.
If any here have wrong'd thine aged years,
In keeping that from thee that is thy due,
Name but the man, and, as I am England's king,
Thou shalt have all the favour I can show.
FATHER.
Then, virtuous prince, mirror of courtesy,
Whose judgments, and whose laws for government,
And punishing of every foul abuse,
Is like the judgment of great Alexander,
Third of that name, whom some termed the Severe;
Or like Vespasian, Rome's virtuous governor,
Who, for a blow his son did give a swain,
Did straight command that he should lose his hand.
Then, virtuous Edgar, be Vespasian once,
In giving sentence on a graceless child.
Know, virtuous prince, that in my pride of years,
When lustful pleasure prick'd my wanton mind,
Even in the April of my flourishing time,
I was betroth'd and wedded to a wife,
By whom too soon I had that unkind boy,
Whose disobedience to his aged sire
The Lord will plague with torments worse than death.
This disobedient child, nay, base extravagant,[297]
Whom I with care did nourish to this state,
Puff'd with a pride that upstart courtiers use,
And seeing that I was brought to poverty,
He did refuse to know me for his sire;
And when I challenged him by nature's laws
To yield obedience to his father's age,
He told me straight he took it in great scorn
To be begot by one so base as I.
My age, that ill could brook this sharp reply,
Did with this wand, my lord, reach him a blow;
But he, contrary laws of God and men,
Did strike me such a blow in vild disdain,
That with the stroke I fell to earth again.
KING.
Unkind Philarchus, how hast thou misdone,
In wilful disobedience to thy sire!
Art thou grown proud, because I favoured thee?
Why, I can quickly make thee bare again,
And then, I think, being in thy former state,
Thou wilt remember who thy father was.
And, gentle Sophocles, in good time I recount
Thy ancient saying, not so old as true,
For saith [he], He that hath many children,
Shall never be without some mirth,
Nor die without some sorrow; for if they
Be virtuous, he shall have cause to rejoice,
But if vicious, stubborn, or disobedient,
Ever to live in continual sadness.
I am sorry, Philarchus, that my favours
Have made thee insolent: well, I will see now if
My frowns will make thee penitent.
Now, father, see how Nature 'gins to work,
And how salt tears, like drops of pearly[298] dew,
Falls from his eyes, as sorrowing his amiss.
PHILARCHUS.
Most gracious prince, vouchsafe to hear me speak.
I cannot but confess, most gracious sovereign,
That I have err'd in being obstinate
In wilful disobedience to my sire
Wherein I have wrong'd nature and your majesty.
But I am not the first, whom oversight
Hath made forgetful of a father's love.
But father's love shall never be forgot,
If he but deign to pardon my amiss:
But if your wrath will noways be appeased,
Rip up this breast, where is enclos'd that heart,
That bleeds with grief to think on my amiss.
Ah, father! pardon, sweet father, pardon me.
FATHER.
No, graceless imp, degenerate and unkind,
Thou art no son of mine, but tiger's whelp,
That hast been fost'red by some lion's pap:
But as the tall'st ash is cut down, because
It yields no fruit, and an unprofitable cow,
Yielding no milk, is slaughtered, and the idle drone,
Gathering no honey, is contemned;
So ungrateful children, that
Will yield no natural obedience, must be
Cut off, as unfit to bear the name [of] Christians,
Whose lives digress both from reason and humanity.
But as thou hast dealt unnaturally with me,
So I resolve to pull my heart from thee.
Therefore, dread prince, vouchsafe to pity me,
And grant I may have justice on my son.
KING.
Dunstan, how counsellest thou the king in this?
I promise thee, I am sorry for the youth,
Because in heart I ever wish'd him well.
DUNSTAN.
My gracious lord, if I might counsel you,
I would counsel you to judge as he deserves.
He that disdains his father in his want,
And wilfully will disobey his sire,
Deserves, my lord, by God's and nature's laws,
To be rewarded with extremest ills:
Then, as your grace hath 'stablish'd laws for government,
So let offenders feel the penalties.
KING.
Ay, Dunstan; now thou speakest as fits a councillor,
But not as friend to him whom Edgar loves.
Father, what wouldest thou have me do in this?
Thou seest thy son is sorry for his fault,
And I am sure thou would not wish his death,
Because a father's care commands the contrary.
Then, gentle father, let me plead for him,
And be his pledge for shunning wilful ills.
FATHER.
Will Edgar now be found a partial judge,
In pleading pardon for a graceless child?
Is it not true,
That one coal of fire will burn many houses,
And one small brack in finest cloth that is,
Will both disgrace and blemish the whole piece?
So wilful children, spotted with one ill,
Are apt to fall to twenty thousand more;
And therefore, mighty sovereign, leave to speak,
And pass just sentence on Philarchus' life.