My son! why have I liv'd to see this?
Away with him to death; the air will grow infectious.
Why stay you?
SCENE IX.
Enter Zopiro and Inophilus, with Soldiers.
Ino. Unhand the prince, or else by heav'n he treads
Into his grave that moves a foot to touch him.
Madam, though Plangus' noble self was blind,
And could not see the deep black darkness of
Your hellish actions, his friends had eyes about them.
Was this your love? this your repentance?
This your advice, your counsel? Had I, I must confess,[100]
And these his noble friends, been[101] rul'd by him, ere this
He'd been a sacrifice to your revenge and you.
Why stand you mute, sir? Want you a tongue to justify
Your innocence our swords and we maintain?
And now, my liege, we turn to you, whom we
Have serv'd as truly as e'er subjects did
Any prince alive; and whilst you're worthy, we
Will do so still; but we'll be no man's slaves
Alive, much less be his that is another's,
While this base witch (for so she is) constrains
You to do actions children would blush at,
And wise men laugh at, which will after leave you
Both to repentance and despair. This beggar, whom
T'other day you took up as some lost thing,
Gave your honour to, and in that our safety;
That knew less to be good than devils do,
And hath ills lodged in her that would make hell
Beyond that the furies dwell in,
Banish her hence, send her to some place
Where murders, rapines, or sins yet
Unheard of do inhabit, and where she can
Do us no mischief. Do you betake yourself
To your former virtue, and restore the prince
To those affections you once had for him.
We then perhaps may live to see
Iberia happy.
Eph. Why am I forc'd thus to declare his shame,
Which at the bound strikes me, and's made my own?
You know not how well Plangus can dissemble:
He is an hypocrite, I need not tell you more,
Those three syllables comprehend all ill.
My queen just now 'scaped from his base attempt,
Wherein he would have forc'd her to have damn'd
Herself and him, and dishonoured me.
What meant that armour on, and why so guarded?
Where was a danger threat'ned him? or doth he
Think his conscience could not sting him through it?
I wish, my lords,[102] he might live. But, as nature
That, as he is my son, bids me preserve him;
So honour, which pleads to the king stronger
Than nature can, tells me, for that very reason,
I can less pardon him than something born
A stranger to my blood. But I deserve
To die, as well as he. If he be grown
A burden to the earth, I am so too,
That gave the monster being. Wherefore
Let me be drawn to execution too,
For fathers are guilty of their children's ills.
Ino. Would Plangus then have forc'd Andromana?
Yes, so would Daphne have ravish'd Phœbus!
I'll undertake goats are less salt than she.
But for his armour:—can any man that breathes
One common air with her not need an armour?
Brass walls can't be security enough.
Why speak you not, sir? are you dumb too?
Plan. 'Tis for them to speak are sure to be believ'd,
And not for him that is condemn'd as guilty.
Words can excuse slight faults.
If mine are esteem'd such, that all my actions,
A speaking duty of one-and-twenty years,
Speak not enough to clear me, silence shall.
I've no more to say, therefore, but
To bid you do your duty to the king,
And ask him pardon for this[103] intemperate zeal:
Heav'n knows I wish'd it not, nor would I buy
My safety at one of my father's angry thoughts,
Much less his fears, for those I fall by.
Obey my father, and if ye love me, gentlemen,
Shed not one tear for Plangus.
For I am timely taken from those plagues
This woman's crying sins must bring upon
Iberia, and make you wish that you
Had died as soon and innocent as I.
And. That I was nothing, I confess; that what I am,
I owe to Ephorbas; nay, that the greatness
I am now in tells me it is too high
To be secure, my fears bear witness.
I wish my life would excuse Plangus his; at least
My blood wash off the blackness of his guilt,
Heav'n knows it should not be one minute, ere
He should be restor'd to his former virtues;
But since it cannot be, I'll in and weep—
Not for myself, but him.
[Exit.
Ino. Millions of plagues go with thee. Sir [To Plangus], you shall
Along with us; we will not trust you
Or to the king or her.