A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VIII (4th edition) - Various
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QUEEN. Is this the villain, Chester, that defil'd
Sir Eustace Stutville's chaste and beauteous child?
DON. Ay, madam, this is he
That made a wench dance naked in a wood;
And, for she did deny what I desired,
I scourg'd her for her pride, till her fair skin
With stripes was checquer'd like a vintner's grate.[284]
And what was this? A mighty matter, sure!
I have a thousand more than she defil'd,
And cut the squeaking throats of some of them--
I grieve I did not hers.
QUEEN. Punish him, Richard.
A fairer virgin never saw the sun;
A chaster maid was never sworn a nun.
KING. How 'scaped the villain punishment that time?
FITZ. I rent his spurs off, and disgraded him.
CHES. And then he rail'd upon the Queen and me.
Being committed, he his keeper slew,
And to your father fled, who pardon'd him.
RICH. God give his soul a pardon for that sin.
SAL. O, had I heard his name or seen his face,
I had defended Robin from this chance!
Ah, villain! shut those gloomy lights of thine.
Remember'st thou a little son of mine,
Whose nurse at Wilton first thou ravishedst,
And slew'st two maids that did attend on them?
DON. I grant I dash'd the brains out of a brat--
Thine if he were, I care not: had he been
The first-born comfort of a royal king,
And should have yall'd, when Doncaster cried peace,
I would have done by him as then I did.
KING. Soon shall the world be rid of such a wretch.
Let him be hang'd alive in the highway
That joineth to the tower.[285]
DON. Alive or dead (I reck not how I die),
You, them, and these I desperately defy.
ELY. Repent, or never look to be absolv'd;
But die accurs'd, as thou deservest well.
DON. Then give me my desert: curse, one by one!
ELY. First I accurse thee; and if thou persist,
Unto damnation leave thee, wretched man.
DON. What do I care for your damnation?
Am I not doomed to death? what more damnation
Can there ensue your loud and yelling cries?
PRIOR. Yes, devil! hear thy fellow-spirit speak--
Who would repent; O, fain he would repent!--
After this body's bitter punishment,
There is an ever-during endless woe,
A quenchless fire, an unconsuming pain,
Which desperate souls and bodies must endure.
DON. Can you preach this, yet set me on, Sir Prior,
To run into this endless, quenchless fire?
PRIOR. High heavens, show mercy to my many ills!
Never had this been done, but like a fiend
Thou temptedst me with ceaseless devilish thoughts.
Therefore I curse with bitterness of soul
The hour wherein I saw thy baleful eyes.
My eyes I curse for looking on those eyes!
My ears I curse for hearkening to thy tongue!
I curse thy tongue for tempting of mine ears!
Each part I curse, that we call thine or mine;
Thine for enticing mine, mine following thine!
DON. A holy prayer. What collect have we next?
[_This time_ ROBIN _stirs_.
FITZ. My Marian wanteth words, such is her woe;
But old Fitzwater, for his girl and him,
Begs nothing but world's plague for such a foe,
Which causeless harm'd a virtuous nobleman,
A pitier of his griefs, when he felt grief.
Therefore, bethink thee of thy hateful deed,
Thou faithless Prior, and thou this ruthless thief.
PRIOR. Will no man curse me, giving so much cause?
Then, Doncaster, ourselves ourselves accurse,
And let no good betide to thee or me!
[_All the Yeomen_, FRIAR, MUCH, JENNY _cry_.
ALL. Amen, amen! accursed may he be
For murdering Robin, flower of courtesy.
[ROBIN _sits up_.
ROB. H. O, ring not such a peal for Robin's death!
Let sweet forgiveness be my passing bell.
Art thou there, Marian? then fly forth, my breath:
To die within thy arms contents me well.
PRIOR. Keep in, keep in a little while thy soul,
Till I have pour'd my soul forth at thy feet.
ROB. H. I slept not, uncle; I your grief did hear,
Let him forgive thy soul that bought it dear:
Your body's deed I in my death forgive,
And humbly beg the king that you may live.
Stand to your clergy, uncle;[286] save your life,
And lead a better life than you have done.
PRIOR. O, gentle nephew! O, my brother's son,
Thou dying glory of old Huntington!
Wishest thou life to such a murderous foe?
I will not live, since thou must life forego.
O, happy Warman! blessed in thy end;
Now too-too late thy truth I do commend.
O, nephew, nephew! Doncaster and I
Murder'd poor Warman, for he did deny
To join with us in this black tragedy.
ROB. H. Alas, poor Warman! Friar, Little John,
I told ye both where Warman's body lay,
And of his burial I'll dispose anon.
KING. Is there no law, Lord Ely, to convict
This Prior, that confesses murders thus?
ELY. He is a hallow'd man, and must be tried
And punish'd by the censure of the church.
PRIOR. The church therein doth err: God doth allow
No canon to preserve a murderer's life.
Richard! King Richard! in thy grandsire's days
A law was made, the clergy sworn thereto,
That whatsoever churchman did commit
Treason or murder, or false felony,
Should like a secular be punished.
Treason we did, for sure we did intend
King Richard's poisoning, sovereign of this land.
Murder we did, in working Warman's end
And my dear nephew's by this fatal hand:
And theft we did, for we have robb'd the king,
The state, the nobles, commons, and his men,
Of a true peer, firm pillar, liberal lord.
Fitzwater we have robbed of a kind son,
And Marian's love-joys we have quite undone.
DON. Whoop! what a coil is here with your confession!
PRIOR. I ask but judgment for my foul transgression.
KING. Thy own mouth hath condemn'd thee.
Hence with him!
Hang this man dead, then see him buried;
But let the other hang alive in chains.
DON. I thank you, sir.
[_Exeunt Yeomen_, FRIAR, _Prisoners_, MUCH.
JOHN. Myself will go, my lord,
And see sharp justice done upon these slaves.
ROB. H. O, go not hence, Prince John! a word or two,
Before I die, I fain would say to you.
KING. Robin, we see what we are sad to see--
Death, like a champion, treading down thy life:
Yet in thy end, somewhat to comfort thee,
We freely give to thy betrothed wife,
Beauteous and chaste Matilda, all those lands,
Fallen by thy folly to the Prior's hands,
And by his fault now forfeited to me.
Earl Huntington, she shall thy countess be:
And thy wight yeomen, they shall wend with me
Against the faithless enemies of Christ.
ROB. H. Bring forth a bier, and cover it with green;
That on my deathbed I may here sit down.
[_A bier is brought in. He sits_.
At Robin's burial let no black be seen,
Let no hand give for him a mourning gown;
For in his death his king hath given him life
By this large gift, given to his maiden wife.
Chaste maid Matilda, countess of account,
Chase with thy bright eyes all these clouds of woe
From these fair cheeks; I pray thee, sweet, do so:
Think it is bootless folly to complain
For that which never can be had again.
Queen Elinor, you once were Matilda's foe;
Prince John, you long sought her unlawful love:
Let dying Robin Hood entreat you both
To change those passions: madam, turn your hate
To princely love: Prince John, convert your love
To virtuous passion, chaste and moderate.
O, that your gracious right hands would enfold
Matilda's right hand, prison'd in my palm,
And swear to do what Robin Hood desires!
QUEEN. I swear I will: I will a mother be
To fair Matilda's life and chastity.
JOHN. When John solicits chaste Matilda's ears
With lawless suits, as he hath often done,
Or offers to the altars of her eyes
Lascivious poems, stuff'd with vanities,
He craves to see but short and sour days:
His death be like to Robin's he desires;
His perjured body prove a poison'd prey
For cowled monks and barefoot begging friars.
ROB. H. Enough, enough! Fitzwater, take your child.
My dying frost, which no sun's heat can thaw,
Closes the powers of all my outward parts:
My freezing blood runs back unto my heart,
Where it assists death, which it would resist:
Only my love a little hinders death,
For he beholds her eyes, and cannot smite:
Then go not yet, Matilda, stay awhile.
Friar, make speed, and list my latest will.
MAT. O, let me look for ever in thy eyes,
And lay my warm breath to thy bloodless lips,
If my sight can restrain death's tyrannies,
Or keep life's breath within thy bosom lock'd.
ROB. H. Away, away!
Forbear, my love; all this is but delay.
FITZ. Come, maiden daughter, from my maiden son,
And give him leave to do what must be done.
ROB. H. First, I bequeath my soul to all souls Sav'our,
And will my body to be buried
At Wakefield, underneath the abbey wall;
And in this order make my funeral.
When I am dead, stretch me upon this bier!
My beads and primer shall my pillow be;
On this side be my bow, my good shafts here;
Upon my breast the cross, and underneath
My trusty sword, thus fasten'd in the sheath.
Let Warman's body at my feet be laid,
Poor Warman, that in my defence did die.
For holy dirges sing me woodmen's songs,
As ye to Wakefield walk with voices shrill.
This for myself. My goods and plate I give
Among my yeomen: them I do bestow
Upon my sovereign Richard. This is all.
My liege, farewell! my love, farewell, farewell!
Farewell, fair Queen, Prince John, and noble lords!
Father Fitzwater, heartily adieu!
Adieu, my yeomen tall. Matilda, close mine eyes.
Friar, farewell! farewell to all!
MAT. O, must my hands with envious death conspire
To shut the morning gates of my life's light!
FITZ. It is a duty and thy love's desire!
I'll help thee, girl, to close up Robin's sight.[287]
KING. Laments are bootless, tears cannot restore
Lost life, Matilda; therefore weep no more:
And since our mirth is turned into moan,
Our merry sport to tragic funeral,
We will prepare our power for Austria,
After Earl Robert's timeless burial.
Fall to your wood-songs, therefore, yeomen bold.
And deck his hearse with flowers, that loved you dear:
Dispose his goods as he hath them dispos'd.
Fitzwater and Matilda, bide you here.
See you the body unto Wakefield borne:
A little we will bear ye company,
But all of us at London 'point to meet:
Thither, Fitzwater, bring Earl Robin's men;
And, Friar, see you come along with them.
FRIAR. Ah, my liege lord! the Friar faints,
And hath no words to make complaints:
But since he must forsake this place,
He will await, and thanks your grace.
_Song.
Weep, weep, ye woodmen, wail,
Your hands with sorrow wring;
Your master Robin Hood lies dead,
Therefore sigh as you sing.
Here lie his primer and his beads,
His bent bow and his arrows keen,
His good sword and his holy cross:
Now cast on flowers fresh and green;
And as they fall, shed tears and say,
Wella, wella-day! wella, wella-day:
Thus cast ye flowers and sing,
And on to Wakefield take your way_.
[_Exeunt_.
FRIAR. Here doth the Friar leave with grievance;
Robin is dead, that graced his entrance,
And being dead, he craves his audience
With this short play they would have patience.[288]
_Enter_ CHESTER.
CHES. Nay, Friar, at the request of thy kind friend,
Let not thy play too soon be at an end.
Though Robin Hood be dead, his yeomen gone,
And that thou think'st there now remains not one
To act another scene or two for thee,
Yet know full well, to please this company,
We mean to end Matilda's tragedy.
FRIAR. Off then, I wish you, with your Kendal green;
Let not sad grief in fresh array be seen.
Matilda's story is replete with tears,
Wrongs, desolations, ruins, deadly fears.
In, and attire ye. Though I tired be,
Yet will I tell my mistress' tragedy.
Apollo's masterdom[289] I invocate,
To whom henceforth my deeds I dedicate;
That of his godhead, 'bove all gods divine,
With his rich spirit he would lighten mine:
That I may sing true lays of trothless deeds,
Which to conceive my heart through sorrow bleeds,
Cheer thee, sad soul, and in a lofty line
Thunder out wrong, compass'd in cloudy tears:
[_Enter in black_.[290]
Show to the eyes, fill the beholders' ears,
With all the lively acts of lustful rage,
Restrain'd by modest tears and chastity's intreats:
And let King John, that ill-part[291] personage,
By suits, devices, practices, and threats,
And when he sees all serveth to no end,
Of chaste Matilda let him make an end.
CHO. We are all fitted, Friar: shall we begin?
FRIAR. Well art thou suited: would my order would
Permit me habit equal to my heart!
CHO. If you remember, John did take an oath
Never again to seek Matilda's love.
FRIAR. O, what is he, that's sworn affection's slave,
That will not violate all laws, all oaths?
And, being mighty, what will he omit
To compass his intents, though ne'er so ill?--
You must suppose King Richard now is dead,
And John, resistless, is fair England's lord
Who, striving to forget Matilda's love,
Takes to his wife the beauteous Isabel,
Betroth'd to Hugh le Brun, Earl of North-March:[292]
And picking quarrels under show of kin,
Wholly divorces his first queen away.
But yet Matilda still-still troubles him,
And being in the court, so oft he courts her,
That by her noble father, old Fitzwater,
She is remov'd from his lust-tempting eye.
But tides restrain'd o'erswell their bounds with rage:
Her absence adds more fuel to his fire.
In sleep he sees her, and his waking thoughts
Study by day to compass his desire.
CHO. Friar, since now you speak of visions,
It was received by tradition
From those that were right near unto King John,
Of three strange visions that to him appear'd;
And, as I guess, I told you what they were.
FRIAR. With them I will begin. Draw but that veil,
And there King John sits sleeping in his chair.
[_Draw the curtain: the king sits sleeping, his sword
by his side. Enter Austria, before whom cometh Ambition,
and bringing him before the chair, King John in sleep
maketh signs to avoid, and holdeth his own crown fast
with both his hands_.
FRIAR. Ambition, that had ever waited on King John,
Now brings him Austria, easy to be ta'en,
Being wholly tam'd by Richard's warlike hand.
And bids him add that dukedom to his crown:
But he puts by Ambition, and contemns
All other kingdoms but the English crown,
Which he holds fast, as if he would not loose[293].
[_Enter Constance, leading Young Arthur: both
offer to take the crown; but with his foot he
overturneth them: to them cometh Insurrection,
led by the F.K. and L.[294] menacing him, and
leads the child again to the chair; but he only
layeth hand on his sword, and with his foot
overthroweth the child, whom they take up as
dead; and, Insurrection flying, they mournfully
bear in the body_.
FRIAR. The lady and the child that did ascend,
Striving in vain to take the crown from John,
Were Constance and her son the Duke of Britain,
Heir to the elder brother of the king:
Yet he sleeps on, and with a little spurn
The mother and the prince doth overturn.
Again, when Insurrection them assists,
Stirr'd by the French king and the wronged earl,
Whose troth-plight wife King John had ta'en to wife,
He only claps his hand upon his sword,
Mocketh their threatenings, and in their attempts
The harmless prince receives recureless death,
Whom they too late with bootless tears lament.
[_Enter Queen with two Children, borne after her:
she ascends, and seeing no motion, she fetcheth her
children one by one; but seeing yet no motion, she
descendeth, wringing her hands, and departeth. Enter
Matilda in a mourning veil, reading on a book, at whose
coming he starteth, and sitteth upright; as she passeth
by, he smiles, and folds his arms as if he did embrace
her: being gone, he starts suddenly, and speaks_.
KING. Matilda! stay, Matilda, do but speak!
Who's there? Entreat Matilda to come back.
_Enter_ BONVILLE[295].
BON. Who would you have, my lord?
KING. Why, my Lord Bonville, I would have Matilda,
That but even now pass'd by toward the door.
BON. I saw her not, my lord.
KING. Hadst thou a lover's eye,
A gnat, a mote, a shadow thou wouldst spy.
Come, follow me; she cannot be so far,
But I shall overtake her: come away!
[_Exeunt_.
FRIAR. The last appearance shadow'd the fair queen
And her two children, at whose sight King John
Shewed neither sign nor show of passion:
But when the sun came masked in a cloud,
And veiled beauty, join'd with chastity,
Appeared in Matilda's lovely shape,
He starts, he clasps, he wakes, he calls, he seeks
The shadow of that substance he affects.
To her he sues, but she his suit rejects;
To him she sues, but he her suit neglects:
He sues to be her love; she doth despise:
She sues to live a maid, which he denies.
What follows of this wilfull will and shall,
This no and nay, this quenchless, bootless fire,
This cold affection and this hot desire,
The act itself shall tell; and the poor friar
Your partial favours humbly doth require.
[_Exit_.
ACT II., SCENE I.
_Sound trumpets. Enter_ KING, BONVILLE, SALISBURY, LORDS.[296]
KING. Now I perceive this only was a dream.
Divine Matilda's angel did appear,
Deck'd like a vestal ready for heaven's quire,
And to this earthly trunk will not come near.
Well, let her go: I must, i' faith, I must,
And so I will. Kings' thoughts should be divine;
So are Matilda's, so henceforth shall mine.
OLD AUB. So doing, peace shall wait upon your crown,
And blessing upon blessing shall befall.
KING. It's true, my lord: I know full well there shall.
SAL. Your people will wax proud of such a king,
That of himself is king, lord of his thoughts;
Which by assertion of philosophers
Is held to be the greatest empery.
KING. And they said wisely, noble Aubery.
SAL. Then will Fitzwater, with his gallant troop[297],
Again keep triumph[298] in the English court;
Then will Matilda--
KING. Matilda! what of her?
SAL. Like a bright star adorn the lovely train
Of beauteous ladies which attend the queen,
Whose only beauty equalleth them all.
KING. Like an old fool, whose dim eyes, wanting sight,
Compar'st the sun to common candle light?
SAL. Pardon, my liege, I do confess her fair[299]
Exceeds all these as far as day doth night.
KING. Grossly alluded: night by moon, by stars
By wandering fires, exhaled meteors,
By artificial lights, by eyes of beasts,
And little glow-worms glimpsing in the dark,
Hath somewhere brightness, lightness; and sometime
Under each horizon in all parts clear:
But they at no time nowhere can be said
To be less dark than dungeon darkness is:
Pitch-colour'd, ebon-fac'd, blacker than black,
While her fair eyes give beauty to bright day.
SAL. To hear the queen thus prais'd works my content.
KING. The queen!
O, had I such a thought, I would repent. [_To himself_.
SAL. Further, my lord--
KING. What, shall we further wade?
I fear I shall be tired with this jade.
SAL. The commonwealth will flourish and increase.
KING. Good Salisbury,[300] of those things now hold your peace,
And take the pains to fetch in Isabel.
I have strange tidings sent me out of France,
Which she will take, I know, in as good part,
As I accept her praise. Fetch her, I say.
[_Exit_ SALISBURY.
What, is the old fool gone? now go thy way.
What think'st thou of him, Hubert? tell me, man.
HUB. As of a good old gentleman, my lord,
That speaks but what he thinks, and thinks you think
As he doth; and, I warrant you,
Will not conceal those praises from the queen
Which, as he deems, you utter'd in her praise.
KING. I would have them believe it so, indeed;
But I protest 'tis no part of my creed. [_Aside_.
HUB. I'faith, your grace did Salisbury's years great wrong,
To curtail his good work, that seem'd so long:
He, peradventure, would have brought in more,
After his preface, to rich plenty's store.
Perchance he would have show'd Dame Vanity,
That in your court is suffered hourly;
And bade you punish ruffians with long hair,
New fashions, and such toys. A special care
Has that good man: he turns the statute-book;
About his hall and chambers if you look,
The moral virtues in fair effigy
Are lively painted: moral philosophy
Has not a sentence, be it great or small,
But it is painted on his honour's wall.
_Enter_ QUEEN _and_ SALISBURY.
KING. Peace, peace! he comes: now let's be silent all.
SAL. I tell you, I was proud of his good words.
QUEEN. God hold them, Salisbury, for it's often seen,
A reconciled foe small good affords.
SAL. O, forbear! trust me.
I gage my honour he doth hold you dear.
KING. How cheer you, Isabel? The earl your spouse
Hath sent defiance to the king your husband,
And, like a tried tall soldier, fled his holds
In Marchland, where he knows, despite of him
And all the men that he therein can raise,
King John could have sent dogs enou' to tear
Their ill-arm'd bodies piecemeal, ere his bands
Should with base blood have stain'd their noble hands.
And whither is this worshipful good earl
(This first love, old love, new love, if you will)
Gone, thinks your ladyship? forsooth, good man,
To Normandy; and there he stirs up coals,
And urgeth strong aid for confederates
Who, as he says, are treacherously disposed.
QUEEN. If he do so, the greater is his sin.
Poor man. I have no interest in him.
KING. But he hath had in you, as it should seem,
Else would he not make sonnets of your brow,
Your eye, your lip, your hand, your thigh.
A plague upon him! how came he so nigh?
Nay, now you have the curs'd quean's counterfeit:
Through rage you shake, because you cannot rave.
But answer me: why should the bedlam slave
Entitle a whole poem to your kiss,
Calling it cherry, ruby, this and this?
I tell you, I am jealous of your love,
Which makes me break into this passion.
Here's the kind noble Aubery de Vere
Knows what I speak is true.
My lord, my lord! I do appeal to you,
Are these things to be borne?
SAL. No, by the rood:
These love-rhymes are the tokens of small good.
HUB. Why, my good lord, was never poetry
Offer'd unto a lady's patronage?
SAL. Yes, but not taken[301].
HUB. Yes, and taken too.
Though moody[302] slaves, whose balladising rhymes
With words unpolish'd show their brutish thoughts,
Naming their maukins[303] in each lustful line,
Let no celestial beauty look awry,
When well-writ poems, couching her rich praise,
Are offer'd to her unstain'd, virtuous eye:
For poetry's high-sprighted sons will raise
True beauty to all wish'd eternity.
Therefore, my lord, your age is much to blame
To think a taken poem lady's shame.
SAL. You see the king, that's better read than you,
And far more wrong'd than I, takes it not well.
KING. Yes, but I do: I think not Isabel
The worse for any writing of Le Brun's.[304]
SAL. Will you ha' the truth, my lord, I think so too;
And though I be an old man, by my sword,
My arm shall justify my constant word.
QUEEN. After a long storm in a troublous sea,
The pilot is no gladder of a calm,
Than Isabel to see the vexed looks
Of her lov'd lord chang'd into sweet aspects.
KING. I will not tell thee what a world of foes
For thy love (dear love) rise against my life.
Matilda's love, few swords will fight for thee. [_To himself_.
I will not number up the many woes
That shall be multiplied: strife upon strife
Will follow; but to shun ensuing ills,
I'll take such pledges as shall please me ask
Of each proud baron dwelling in the realm.
Bruce, kinsman and the deputy to March,
Hath a high-minded lady to his wife,
An able son for arms, and a less boy,
That is the comfort of his father's life.
Madam, I know you love the lady well,
And of her wealth you may be bold to build[305],
By sending you four hundred white milch kine,
And ten like-colour'd bulls to serve that herd;
So fair, that every cow did Ioe seem,
And every bull Europa's ravisher.
To friend myself with such a subject's truth,
Thus I command: you and Earl Salisbury
Shall, with what speed conveniently ye may,
Hie ye to Guildford: there the lady lies,
And her sons too, as I am told by spies.
All that she hath, I know, she calleth yours;
All that she hath I gladly would call mine,
If she abuse ye; if she use ye well,
For ever be what she retains her own.
Only go by, as queens in progress do,
And send me word how she receiveth you.
QUEEN. Well, I avouch, she will, before I go:
Far be it John should prove Lord Bruce's foe.
Come, noble Salisbury, I long to be at Guildford.
SAL. In such a business, madam, so do I.
[_Exeunt_.
KING. Go on, good stales[306]: now Guildford is mine own! [_Aside_.]
Hubert, I charge you take an hundred horse,
And follow unto Guildford castle-gates.
The queen pretend you come to tend upon,
Sent carefully from us: when you are in,
Boldly demand the lady for her sons,
For pledges of her husband's faith and hers:
Whom when ye have, upon the castle seize,
And keep it to our use, until we come.
Meanwhile let me alone with Hugh your son,
To work a wonder, if no prodigy;
But whatsoe'er, it shall attempted be.
HUB. Even that which to your majesty
May seem contentful, thereto I agree.
KING. Go then to Guildford, and a victor be, [_Exit_ HUBERT.
Mowbray, our masque: are you and Chester ready?