A Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. II - Various
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_Enter Pike_.
_Pike_. Are you bouncing? Ile no further. Sure these can be no
Crowkeepers nor birdscarers from the fruite! what rascalls were my
Countrymen to tell me there was no danger!--alas, what's here? 3 of
our soldiers slaine! dead, shott through the very bowells! so, is this
quite dead too? poore wretches, you have payd for your Capon sauce.
3. Oh, oh!
_Pike_. Here's some life in yt yet: what cheare? how is't, my heart of
gold? speake, man, if thou canst; looke this way; I promise thee 'tis an
honest man & a true _Englishman_ that speakes to thee. Thou look'st away
as if thou didst not trust me: I prithee speake to me any thing, Ile
take thy word & thanke the, too. Alas, I feare he's past it; he strives
and cannot speake.--'Tis good to shift this ground; they may be charging
more hidden villany while I stand prating heere.--He breathes still;
come, thou shalt not stay behind for want of leggs or shoulders to beare
thee. If there be surgery in our ships to recover the use of thy tongue,
thou mayst one day acknowledge a man & a Christian in honest _Dicke of
Devonshire_. Come along;--nay now I feare my honesty is betrayd;--a
horseman proudly mounted makes towards me, and 'tis a Don that thinkes
himselfe as brave as _St. Jaques_. What shall I doe? there is no
starting; I must stand th'encounter.--Lye still a while & pray if thou
canst, while I doe my best to save my owne & the litle breath thou hast
left. But I am in that prevented too: his breath's quite gone allready,
and all the Christian duty I have now left for thee is to close thy eyes
with a short prayer: mayst thou be in heaven, Amen.--Now _Don Diego, &
Don Thunderbolt_, or _Don Divell_, I defye thee.
_Enter Don John arm'd. Pike drawes & wrapps
his Cloake about his arme_.
_Jo_. Oh viliaco, diable, _Anglese_!
[_They fight_.
_Pike_. A pox upon thee, _Hispaniola_! Nay, if you be no better in the
Reare then in the Van I shall make no doubt to vanquish, & vanquash you,
too, before we part, my doughty _Don Diego_.
[_He hath him downe, & disarmes him_.
_Jo_. Mercy, _Englishman_, oh spare my life! pardonne moye je vous pre.
_Pike_. And take your goods? is that your meaning, _Don_, it shall be
so; your horse and weapons I will take, but no pilferage. I am no
pocketeer, no diver into slopps: yet you may please to empty them your
selfe, good _Don_, in recompense of the sweet life I give you; you
understand me well. This coyne may passe in _England_: what is your
Donship calld, I pray.
_Jo_. _Don John_, a knight of _Spaine_.
_Pike_. A knight of _Spaine_! and I a Squire of _Tavestock_: well, _Don
John_, I am a little in hast & am unmannerly constreynd to leave your
_Castilian_ on foote, while my _Devonshire_ worship shall teach your
_Spanish_ Jennett an _English_ gallop. A dios, signior.--
_Enter_ 12 _musketiers_.
Oh what a tyde of fortunes spight am I
Now to swim through! beare up yet, Jovyall heart,
And while thou knowest heavenly mercy doe not start.
Once more let me embrace you, signior.
1. I say he is an _Englishman_: lett's shoote him.
2. I say the other is a _Spanyard_ & _Don John_; & we dare not shoote
the one for feare of killing th'other.
_Jo_. Oh hold and spare us both, for we are frends.
1. But by your leave we will part your embraces: so disarme, disarme.
_Jo_. I thanke you, Countrymen; I hope you'le trust my honour with my
armes.
1. Yes, take them signior; but you will yeild the _Englishman_ our
prisoner?
_Jo_. Yes, with a Villaines marke. [_He woundes him_.
1. A villaines mark, indeed! wound a disarmed souldier!
_Jo_. He triumphd in the odds he had of me,
And he shall know that from the _Spanish_ race
Revenge, though nere so bloudy, is not base.
Away with him
A prisoner into th'Citty!
_Pike_. Where you please,
Although your Law's more merciles then Seas.
[_Exeunt_.
(SCENE 5.)
_Enter Don Ferdinando, the Teniente, with
attendants; Bustamente brought in with a Guard_.
_Fer_. _Francisco Bustamente_, late Captaine of the Castle,
Stand forth accusd of Treason gainst his Maiesty.
_Bust_. It is a language I not understand
And but that by the rule of loyalty
Unto my king and country I am made
Attendant to the Law, & in this honourd
Presence, the Governour & _Teniente_,
Under whose jurisdiction I hold place,
I would not beare nor heare it.
_Fer_. I'de be glad
You could as easily acquitt your selfe
Of guilt as stand up in your owne defence;
But, _Bustamente_, when it doth appeare
To law & reason, on which law is grounded,
Your great offence in daring to betray
The Spanish honour unto Infamy,
In yeilding up the fort on such slight cause,
You can no lesse then yeild yourselfe most guilty.
_Bust_. Farre be it from your thought, my honourd Lord,
To wrest the hazardous fortune of the warre
Into the bloudyer censure of the Law.
Was it my fault that in the first assault
The Canoniers were slayne, whereby our strength,
Our mayne offensive strength, was quite defeated
And our defensive part so much enfeebled
That possibility to subsist was lost,
Or by resistance to preserve one life?
While there was sparke of hope I did maintayne
The fight with fiery resolution
And (give me leave to speake it) like a Sodier.
_Ten_. To my seeming your resolution
Was forwardest to yeild then to repell;
You had else stood longer out.
_Bust_. We stood the losse of most of our best men,
And of our musketiers no lesse then fifty
Fell by the adverse shott; whose bodyes with their armes
Were cast by my directions downe a well
Because their armes should neyther arme our foes
Nor of our losse the sight give them encouragement.
_Fer_. That pollicy pleades no excuse; you yet
Had men enough, had they bene soldiers,
Fit for a Leaders Justification.
And doe not we know that 6 score at least
Of those base Picaros with which you stuff'd
The fort, to feed, not fight,--unworthy of
The name of _Spanyards_, much lesse of soldiers--
At once ran all away like sheep together,
Having but ore the walls descryde th'approach
Of th'Enemy? Some of the feare-spurrd villaines
Were overturnd by slaughter in their flight,
Others were taken & are sure to find
Our lawes as sharpe as either Sword or Bullet.
For your part, _Bustamente_, for that you have
Done heretofore more for your Countryes love,
You shall not doubt of honourable tryall,
Which in the Court of warre shalbe determind,
At _Sherris_, whitherward you instantly
Shall with a guard be sent.--See't done: away.
_Bust_. The best of my desire is to obey.
[_Exit with a Guard_.
_Enter Don John, Pike (with his face wounded}, a Guard of musketts_.
_Fer_. Whence is that soldier?
1. Of _England_.
_Jo_. Or of hell.
1. It was our chance to come unto the rescue
Of this renowned knight, _Don John_,
Who was his prisoner as he now is ours.
Some few more of his mates we shott & slew
That were (out of their _English_ liquorishness)
Bold to robb orchards of forbidden fruite.
2. It was a fine ambition; they would have thought
Themselves as famous as their Countryman
That putt a girdle[25] round about the world,
Could they have said, at their returne to _England_,
Unto their Sons, "Looke Boyes; this fruite your father
With his adventurous hands in _Spayne_ did gather."
_Fer_. 'Tis a goodly fellow.
1. Had you not better have gone home without Lymons to eate Capons with
your frends then to stay here without Capons to taste Lymons with us
that you call Enemyes?
_Pike_. I could better fast with a noble Enemy then feast with unworthy
frends.
_Fer_. How came he by these woundes?
_Pike_. Not by noble Enemyes: this on my face
By this proud man, yet not more proud then base;
For, when my hands were in a manner bound,
I having given him life, he gave this wound.
_Fer_. 'Twas unadvisd.
_Ten_. The more unmanly done:
And though, _Don John_, by law y'are not accusd,
He being a common Enemy, yet being a man
You in humanity are not excusd.
_Jo_. It was my fury & thirst of revenge.
_Fer_. Reason & manhood had become you better;
Your honour's wounded deeper then his flesh.
Yet we must quitt your person & committ
The _Englishman_ to prison.
_Ten_. To prison with him; but let best care be taken
For the best surgeons, that his wounds be look'd to.
_Pike_. Your care is noble, and I yeild best thankes;
And 'tis but need, I tell your Seignioryes,
For I have one hurt more then you have seene,
As basely given & by a baser person:
A _Flemming_ seeing me led a prisoner
Cryde, "Whither doe you lead that _English_ dog,
Kill, kill him!" cryde hee, "he's no Christian;"
And ran me in the bodie with his halbert
At least four inches deepe.
_Fer_. Poore man, I pitty thee.--But to the prison with him.
_Ten_. And let him be carefully lookt to.
[_Exeunt omnes_.
_Actus Tertius_.
(SCENE 1.)
_Enter Captaine, Hill, Secretary, Jewell_.
_Cap_. Our Generall yet shewd himselfe right noble in offering ransome
for poore Captive _Pike_.
_Sec_. So largely, too, as he did, Captaine.
_Cap_. If any reasonable price would have bene accepted it had bene
given Mr. Secretary, I assure you.
_Jew_. I can testify that at our returne, in our Generalls name & my
owne, I made the large offer to the _Teniente_, who will by no meanes
render him. Sure they hold him for some great noble purchace.
_Sec_. A Barronet at least, one of the lusty blood, Captaine.
_Cap_. Or perhaps, Mr. Secretary, some remarkable Commonwealths man, a
pollitician in Government.
_Sec_. 'Twere a weake state-body that could not spare such members.
Alas, poore _Pike_, I thinke thy pate holds no more pollicy than a
Pollax.
_Hill_. Who is more expert in any quality then he that hath it at his
fingers ends; & if he have more pollicy in his braines then dirt under
his nayles Ile nere give 2 groates for a Calves head. But without all
question he hath done some excellent piece of villany among the Diegoes,
or else they take him for a fatter sheep to kill then he is.
_Cap_. Well, gentlemen, we all can but condole the losse of him; and
though all that we all come hither for be not worth him, yet we must be
content to leave him. The fleete is ready, the wind faire, and we must
expect him no longer.
_Hill_. He was a true _Devonshire_ blade.
_Sec_. My Countryman, sir: therefore would I have given the price of a
hundred of the best Toledoes rather then heare the misse of him at home
complayned by his Wife and Children.
_Jew_. Your tendernes becomes you, sir, but not the time, which wafts us
hence to shun a greater danger.
_Exeunt_.
(SCENE 2.)
_Enter Pike in shackles, nightcap, playsters on his face; a Jaylor_.
_Pike_. The fleete is gone & I have now no hope of liberty; yet I am
well refreshd in the care hath bene taken for my cure. But was ever
_English_ horse thus _Spanish_ bitted & bossd![26]
_Jay_. Sir, the care of your keeper, by whom this ease hath been
procured, requires remuneration.
_Pike_. Here's for you, my frend.
_Jay_. I assure you, the best Surgeons this part of _Spaine_ affoords,
through my care taken of you; & you may thanke me.
_Pike_. What an arrogant rascall's this!--Sir, I thought my thankes
herein had chiefly appertaind to the humanity of the Governour, & that
your especiall care had bene in providing these necessary shackles to
keepe me from running into further danger: these I tooke to be the
strong bonds of your frendship.
_Jay_. Sir, I hope they fitt you as well as if they had bene made for
you. Oh, I am so much your servant that I doe wish 'em stronger for your
sake.
_Pike_. 'Tis overwell as it is, sir.
_Jay_. You are most curteous. [_Exit_.
_Pike_. A precious rogue! If the Jaylors be so pregnant what is the
hangman, troe? By the time my misery hath brought me to climbe to his
acquaintance I shall find a frend to the last gaspe. What's here? a
Lady? are the weomen so cruell here to insult ore Captive wretches.
_Enter Catelyna & Jaylor_.
_Cat_. Is this the English prisoner?
_Jay_. Yes, madam.
_Cat_. Trust me, a goodly person.
_Pike_. She eyes me wistly; sure she comes not to instruct her selfe in
the art of painting by the patternes of my face!
_Cat_. Sir, shall I speake with you?
_Pike_. Yes, Lady, so you will not mock mee.
_Cat_. Indeed I cannot, but must needs acknowledge
Myselfe beholding to you.
_Pike_. This I must beare; I will doe soe & call't my sweet affliction.
_Cat_. Will you heare me, sir? I am the Lady--
_Pike_. Yes, I doe heare you say you are the Lady; but let me tell you,
madam, that Ladyes, though they should have tenderest sence of honour &
all vertuous goodnesse, & so resemble Goddesses as well in soule as
feature, doe often prove dissemblers & in their seemely breasts beare
cruelty & mischiefe. If you be one of those, oh, be converted; returne
from whence you came & know 'tis irreligious, nay divelish to tread &
triumph over misery.
_Cat_. How well he speakes, yet in the sence bewraying
A sence distracted: sure his captivity,
His wounds, & hard entreaty make him franticke!
Pray heare me, sir, & in two words Ile tell you
Enough to win beleeife: I am the Lady
Of the Knight vanquished by you, _Don John_.
_Pike_. Y'have said enough, indeed: pitty of heaven,
What new invented cruelty is this!
Was't not enough that by his ruthlesse basenes
I had these wounds inflicted, but I must
Be tortured with his wifes uniust reioycings!
'Twas well his politicke feare, which durst not come
To glory in his handy worke himselfe,
Could send your priviledg'd Ladyship.
_Cat_. Indeed, you much mistake me; as I live,
As I hope mercy & for after life,
I come for nothing but to offer thankes
Unto your goodnes, by whose manly temper
My lord and husband reassum'd his life;
And aske your Christian pardon for the wrong
Which by your suffering now pleads him guilty.
Good sir, let no mistrust of my iust purpose
Crosse your affection: did you know my love
To honour and to honest actions,
You would not then reiect my gratulations.
And since that deeds doe best declare our meaning,
I pray accept of this,
This money and these clothes and my request
Unto your keeper for best meats and wines
That are agreable to your health and taste.
And, honest frend, thou knowst and darest, I hope,
Believe me I will see thee payd for all.
_Jay_. Yes, my good Lady.--Loe you, sir, you see
Still how my care provides your good: you may
Suppose the Governours humanity
Takes care for you in this, too.
_Pike_. Excellent Ladye I doe now beleive
Virtue and weomen are growne frends againe.
_Enter Don John_.
_Jo_. What magicall Illusion's this? 'tis she!
Confusion seize your charitable blindnesse!
Are you a prison visiter for this,
To cherish my dishonour for your merit?
_Cat_. My lord, I hope my Charity workes for your honour,
Releiving him whose mercy spard your life.
_Jo_. But that I'me subiect to the law & know
My blowes are mortall, I would strike thee dead.
Ignoble & degenerate from Spanish bloud,
Darst thou maintaine this to be charity?
Thy strumpett itch & treason to my bed
Thou seekst to act in cherishing this villaine.
_Cat_. Saints be my witnesses you doe me wrong!
_Jo_. Thou robbst my honour.
_Pike_. You wound her honour and you robb yourselfe,
And me and all good Christians, by this outrage.
_Jo_. Doe you prate, sir?
_Pike_. Sir, I may speake; my tongue's unshackled yet,
And, were my hands and feete so, on free ground
I would mayntayne the honour of this Lady
Against an Hoast of such ignoble husbands.
_Jo_. You are condemnd allready by the Law
I make no doubt; and therefore speake your pleasure.
--And here come those fore whom my rage is silent.
_Enter Ferdinando, Teniente, Guard_.
_Fer_. Deliver up your prisoner to the _Teniente_.
I need not, sir, instruct you in your place
To beare him with a guard as is appointed
Unto the publicke tryall held at _Sherrys_.
_Ten_. It shalbe done.
_Fer_. How long hath he bene your prisoner?
_Jay_. 18 days.
_Fer_. You & the Surgeons out of the Kings pay
Ile see dischargd.--You have, according to the Order,
Conveyd already _Bustamente_ thither
To yeild account for yeilding up the Castle?
_Ten_. 'Tis done, my Lord.
_Fer_. _Don John_, you likewise in his Maiesties name
Stand chargd to make your personall appearance
To give in evidence against this prisoner.
_Jo_. I shall be ready there, my Lord.
_Pike_. To _Sherrys_? they say the best sackes there.
I meane to take one draught of dying comfort.
_Cat_. I hope you'le not deny my company
To waite on you to _Sherris_?
_Jo_. No, you shall goe to see your frend there totter.[27]
_Pike_. I have a suite, my Lord; to see an _Englishman_,
A merchant, prisoner here, before I goe.
_Fer_. Call him; that done, you know your charge.
[_Exit Jaylor_.
_Ten_. And shall performe it.
[_Ex. Fer., John, Catalina_.
_Enter Jaylor & Woodrow_.
_Pike_. Oh, Mr. _Woodrow_, I must now take leave
Of prison fellowship with you. Your fortunes
May call you into _England_, after payment
Of some few money debts; but I am calld
Unto a further tryall: my debt is life,
Which if they take not by extortion,
I meane by tortures, I shall gladly pay it.
_Wo_. I have heard, & thought you by what I had heard
Free from feares passion: still continue soe,
Depending on heavens mercy.
_Pike_. You doe instruct me well; but, worthy Countryman,
Once more let me give you this to remember,
And tis my last request:--that when your better stars
Shall guide you into _England_, youle be pleasd
To take my Country _Devonshire_ in your way;
Wheir you may find in _Taverstoke_ (whom I left)
My wife & children, wretched in my misfortunes.
Commend me to them, tell them & my frends
That if I be, as I suspect I shalbe,
At _Sherris_ putt to death, I dyed a Christian soldier,
No way, I hope, offending my iust King
Nor my religion, but the _Spanish_ lawes.
[_Exeunt_.
(SCENE 3.)
_Enter Don Pedro, reading a Letter, & Manuell_.
_Man_. Dear sir, let me have power to recall
Your graver thoughts out of this violent storme
Of passion that thus oerwhelmes your mind.
Remember what you are, and with what strength,
What more then manly strength, you have outworne
Dangers of Battaile, when your warlike lookes
Have outfac'd horrour.
_Pedro_. Oh, my son, my son,
Horrour it selfe upon the wings of Death,
Stretcht to the uttermost expansion
Over the wounded body of an Army,
Could never carry an aspect like this,
This murthering spectacle, this field of paper
Stucke all with Basiliskes eyes. Read but this word,
'The ravisht _Eleonora_!'--does't not seeme
Like a full cloud of bloud ready to burst
And fall upon our heads?
_Man_. Indeed you take too deepe a sence of it.
_Pedro_. What? when I see this meteor hanging ore it?
This prodigy in figure of a man,
Clad all in flames, with an Inscription
Blazing on's head, 'Henrico the Ravisher!'
_Man_. Good sir, avoid this passion.
_Pedro_. In battailes I have lost, and seene the falls
Of many a right good soldier; but they fell
Like blessed grayne that shott up into honour.
But in this leud exploit I lose a son
And thou a brother, my _Emanuell_,
And our whole house the glory of her name:
Her beauteous name that never was distayned,
Is by this beastly fact made odious.
_Man_. I pray, sir, be your selfe and let your Judgement
Entertaine reason: From whom came this Letter?
_Pedro_. From the sad plaintiffe, _Eleonora_.
_Man_. Good;
And by the common poast: you every weeke
Receiving letters from your noble frendes
Yet none of their papers can tell any such tidings.
_Pedro_. All this may be too, sir.
_Man_. Why is her father silent? has she no kindred,
No frend, no gentleman of note, no servant
Whom she may trust to bring by word of mouth
Her dismall story.
_Pedro_. No, perhaps she would not
Text up his name in proclamations.
_Man_. Some villaine hath filld up a Cup of poyson
T'infect the whole house of the _Guzman_ family;
And you are greedyest first to take it downe.
_Pedro_. That villaine is thy brother.
_Man_. Were you a stranger
Armd in the middle of a great Battalion
And thus should dare to taxe him, I would wave
My weapon ore my head to waft you forth
To single combatt: if you would not come,
Had I as many lives as I have hayres,[28]
I'de shoot 'em all away to force my passage
Through such an hoast untill I met the Traytour
To my dear brother.--Pray, doe not thinke so, sir.
_Pedro_. Not? when it shall be said one of our name
(Oh heaven could I but say he were not my son!)
Was so dishonorable,
So sacrilegious to defile a Temple
Of such a beauty & goodnes as she was!
_Man_. As beauteous is my brother in his soule
As she can be.
_Pedro_. Why dost thou take his part so?
_Man_. Because no dropp of honour falls from him
But I bleed with it. Why doe I take his part?
My sight is not so precious as my brother:
If there be any goodnes in one man
He's Lord of that; his vertues are full seas
Which cast up to the shoares of the base world
All bodyes throwne into them: he's no drunkard;
I thinke he nere swore oath; to him a woman
Was worse than any scorpion, till he cast
His eye on _Eleonora_: and therefore, sir,
I hope it is not so.
_Pedro_. Was not she so?
_Man_. I doe not say, sir, that she was not so,
Yet women are strange creatures; but my hope
Is that my brother was not so ignoble.
Good sir, be not too credulous on a Letter:
Who knowes but it was forgd, sent by some foe,
As the most vertuous ever have the most?
I know my Brother lov'd her honour so
As wealth of kingdoms could not him entice
To violate it or his faith to her.
Perhapps it is some queint devise of theirs
To hast your journey homeward out of _France_,
To terminate their long-desired marriage.
_Pedro_. The language of her letter speakes no such comfort,
But I will hasten home; &, for you are
So confident as not to thinke his honour
Any way toucht, your good hopes be your guide
Auspiciously to find it to your wish.
Therefore my counsaile is you post before,
And, if you find that such a wrong be done,
Let such provision instantly be
Betwixt you made to hide it from the world
By giving her due nuptiall satisfaction,
That I may heare no noise of't at my comming.
Oh, to preserve the Reputation
Of noble ancestry that nere bore stayne,
Who would not passe through fire or dive the mayne?
[_Exeunt_.
(SCENE 4.)
_Enter Fernando & Eleonora_.
_Fer_. Cease, Eleonora, cease these needles plaints,
Less usefull than thy helpe of hands was at
The deed of darkness,--oh, the blackest deed
That ever overclouded[29] my felicity!
To speake, or weepe thy sorrow, but allayes
And quenches anger, which we must now cherish
To further iust revenge. How I could wish
But to call backe the strength of Twenty yeares!
_Ele_. That I might be in that unborne againe, sir.
_Fer_. No, _Eleonora_, that I were so ennabled
With my owne hands to worke out thy wronge
Upon that wretch, that villaine, oh, that Ravisher!
But, though my hands are palsyed with rage,
The Law yet weares a sword in our defence.
_Enter Henrico_.
_Ele_. Away, my Lord & Father! see the monster
Approaching towards you! who knowes but now
He purposeth an assassinate on your life,
As he did lately on my Virgin honour?
_Fer_. Fury, keepe off me!
_Hen_. What life, what honour meane you? _Eleonora_,
What is the matter? Who hath lost anything?
_Ele_. Thou impudent as impious, I have lost--
_Hen_. Doe you call me names?
_Ele_. The solace of my life, for which--
_Hen_. A fine new name for a maydenhead!
_Ele_. May all the curses of all iniured weomen
Fall on thy head!
_Hen_. Would not the curses of all good ones serve?
So many might perhaps be borne: but, pray,
Tell me what moves you thus? Why stand you soe
Aloofe, my Lord? I doe not love to bee
Usd like a stranger: welcome's all I looke for.
_Fer_. What boldnesse beyond madnesse gives him languadge!
Nothing but well-bred stuffe! canst see my daughter
And not be strooke with horrour of thy shame
To th' very heart? Is't not enough, thou Traytour,
To my poore Girles dishonour to abuse her,
But thou canst yett putt on a divells visour
To face thy fact & glory in her woe?
_Hen_. I would I were acquainted with your honours meaning all
this while.
_Fer_. The forreine Enemy which came to the Citty
And twice dancd on the Sea before it, waving
Flaggs of defyance & of fury to it,
Were nor before nor now this second time
So cruell as thou. For when they first were here
Now well nigh 40 yeares since, & marched through
The very heart of this place, trampled on
The bosomes of our stoutest soldiers,
The weomen yet were safe, Ladyes were free
And that by the especial command
Of the then noble Generall: & now being safe
From common danger of our enemyes,
Thou lyon-like hast broake in on a Lambe
And preyd upon her.