My noblest Edith?
Edith. Nought but your kind prayers
For full effect and speed of my affair.
Mat. They are thine, my Edith, as for me, my own;
For thou well know’st, if blood shed of the best
Should cool and be forgotten, who would fear
To shed blood still? or where, alas, were then
The endless love we owe to worthy men?
Ed. Love of the worthiest ever bless your highness. [Exe.
Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
Enter Rollo with a glass, Aubrey, and Servants.
Rol. I Never studied my glass till now,
It is exceeding well; now leave me; Cousin,
How takes your eye the object?
Aub. I have learn’d
So much Sir of the Courtier, as to say
Your person does become your habit;
But being called unto it by a noble War,
Would grace an armour better.
Rol. You are still
For that great Art of which you are the Master;
Yet I must tell you, that to the encounters
We oft attempt, arm’d only thus, we bring
As troubled blood, fears mixt with flatt’ring hopes,
The danger in the service too as great,
As when we are to charge quite through and through
The body of an Army.
Aub. I’le not argue
How you may rank the dangers, but will die in’t,
The ends which they arrive at, are as distant
In every circumstance, as far as honour
Is from shame and repentance.
Rol. You are sowr?
Aub. I would speak my free thoughts, yet not appear
Nor am I so ambitious of the title
Of one that dares talk any thing that was
Against the torrent of his own opinion,
That I affect to speak ought may offend you:
And therefore gracious Sir, be pleas’d to think
My manners or discretion have inform’d me
That I was born, in all good ends, to serve you:
And not to check at what concerns me not:
I look not with sore eyes on your rich out-side,
Nor rack my thoughts to find out to what purpose
’Tis now employ’d; I wish it may be good,
And that, I hope, offends not for a subject
Towards his Prince in things indifferent;
To use the austereness of a censuring Cato
Is arrogance, not freedom.
Rol. I commend
This temper in you, and will cherish it.
Enter Hamond with Letters.
They come from Rome, Latorch imployed you?
Ham. True Sir.
Rol. I must not now be troubled with a thought
Of any new design; good Aubrey read ’em,
And as they shall direct you, use my power,
Or to reply or execute.
Aub. I will, Sir.
Rol. And Captain bring a squadron of our Guard
To th’ house that late was Baldwins, and there wait me.
Ham. I shall.
Rol. Some two hours hence.
Ham. With my best care.
Rol. Inspire me Love, and be thy deity,
Or scorn’d or fear’d, as now thou favour’st me. [Exit Rollo.
Ham. My stay to do my duty, may be wrongs
Your Lordships privacy.
Aub. Captain, your love
Is ever welcome; I intreat your patience
While I peruse these.
Ham. I attend your pleasure.
Aub. How’s this, a plot on me?
Ham. What is contain’d
In th’ letters that I brought, that thus transports him?
Aub. To be wrought on by Rogues, and have my head
Brought to the Axe by Knaves that cheat for bread?
The Creatures of a Parasite, a slave;
I find you here Latorch, not wonder at it;
But that this honest Captain should be made
His instrument, afflicts me; I’le make trial
Whether his will or weakness made him do it.
Captain you saw the Duke when he commanded
I should do what these letters did direct me,
And I presume you think I’le not neglect
For fear or favour, to remove all dangers
How near soever that man can be to me
From whom they should have birth.
Ham. It is confirm’d.
Aub. Nor would you Captain, I believe, refuse,
Or for respect of thankfulness, or hopes,
To use your sword with fullest confidence
Where he shall bid you strike.
Ham. I never have done.
Aub. Nor will I think —
Ham. I hope it is not question’d.
Aub. The means to have it so, is now propos’d you.
Draw, so, ’tis well, and next cut off my head.
Ham. What means your Lordship?
Aub. ’Tis, Sir, the Dukes pleasure:
My innocence hath made me dangerous,
And I must be remov’d, and you the man
Must act his will.
Ham. I’le be a Traytor first, before I serve it thus.
Aub. It must be done,
And that you may not doubt it, there’s your warrant,
But as you read, remember Hamond, that
I never wrong’d one of your brave profession;
And, though it be not manly, I must grieve
That man of whose love I was most ambitious
Could find no object of his hate but me.
Ham. It is no time to talk now, honour’d Sir,
Be pleas’d to hear thy servant, I am wrong’d,
And cannot, being now to serve the Duke,
Stay to express the manner how; but if
I do not suddenly give you strong proofs,
Your life is dearer to me than my own,
May I live base, and dye so: Sir, your pardon. [Exit Ham.
Aub. I am both waies ruin’d, both waies mark’t for slaughter
On every side, about, behind, before me,
My certain fate is fix’t: were I a Knave now,
I could avoid this: had my actions
But meer relations to their own ends, I could ‘scape now:
Oh honesty! thou elder child of vertue,
Thou seed of Heaven, why to acquire thy goodness
Should malice and distrust stick thorns before us,
And make us swim unto thee, hung with hazards?
But Heaven is got by suffering, not disputing;
Say he knew this before-hand, where am I then?
Or say he does [not] know it, where’s my Loyalty?
I know his nature, troubled as the Sea,
And as the Sea devouring when he’s vex’d,
And I know Princes are their own expounders.
Am I afraid of death? of dying nobly?
Of dying in mine innocence uprightly?
Have I met death in all his forms, and fears,
Now on the points of Swords, now pitch’d on Lances?
In fires, and storms of Arrows, Battels, breaches,
And shall I now shrink from him, when he courts me
Smiling and full of sanctity? I’le meet him;
My Loyal hand and heart shall give this to him,
And though it bear beyond what Poets feign
A punishment, duty shall meet that pain;
And my most constant heart to do him good,
Shall check at neither pale affright nor bloud.
Enter Messenger.
Mess. The Dutchess presently would crave your presence.
Aub. I come; and Aubrey now resolve to keep
Thy honour living, though thy body sleep. [Exit.
SCENE II.
Enter Edith, a Boy, and a Banquet set out.
&nbs
p; Edith. Now for a Fathers murther, and thy ruine,
All chastity shall suffer if he raign;
Thou blessed soul, look down, and steel thy Daughter,
Look on the sacrifice she comes to send thee,
And through the bloudy clouds behold my piety,
Take from my cold heart fear, from my sex pity,
And as I wipe these tears off, shed for thee,
So all remembrance may I lose of mercy;
Give me a womans anger bent to bloud,
The wildness of the winds to drown his prayers,
Storm-like may my destruction fall upon him,
My rage like roving billows as they rise,
Pour’d on his soul to sink it, give me flattery,
(For yet my constant soul ne’r knew dissembling)
Flattery the food of Fools, that I may rock him
And lull him in the Down of his desires;
That in the height of all his hopes and wishes,
His Heaven forgot, and all his lusts upon him,
My hand, like thunder from a cloud, may seize him.
I hear him come, go boy, and entertain him.
Enter Rollo.
SONG.
Take, Oh take those lips away
‘That so sweetly were forsworn,
And those eyes, like break of day,
Lights that do mislead the Morn,
But my kisses bring again,
Seals of love, though seal’d in vain.
Hide, Oh hide those hills of Snow,
Which thy frozen blossome bears,
On whose tops the Pinks that grow
Are of those that April wears,
But first set my poor heart free ‘
Bound in those Ivy chains by thee.
Rol. What bright star, taking beauties form upon her,
In all the happy lustre of Heavens glory,
Has drop’d down from the Skye to comfort me?
Wonder of nature, let it not prophane thee
My rude hand touch thy beauty, nor this kiss,
The gentle sacrifice of love and service,
Be offer’d to the honour of thy sweetness.
Edi. My gracious Lord, no deity dwells here,
Nor nothing of that vertue, but obedience,
The servant to your will affects no flattery.
Rol. Can it be flattery to swear those eyes
Are loves eternal lamps he fires all hearts with?
That tongue the smart string to his bow? those sighs
The deadly shafts he sends into our souls?
Oh, look upon me with thy spring of beauty.
Edi. Your grace is full of game.
Rol. By Heaven, my Edith,
Thy Mother fed on Roses when she bred thee.
Ed. And thine on brambles that have prick’d her heart out.
Rol. The sweetness of the Arabian wind still blowing
Upon the treasures of perfumes and spices,
In all their pride and pleasures call thee Mistris.
Edi. Wil’t please you sit Sir?
Rol. So you please sit by me.
Fair gentle maid, there is no speaking to thee,
The excellency that appears upon thee
Tyes up my tongue: pray speak to me.
Edi. Of what Sir?
Rol. Of any thing, any thing is excellent.
Will you take my directions? speak of love then;
Speak of thy fair self Edith; and while thou speak’st,
Let me, thus languishing, give up my self wench.
Edi. H’as a strange cunning tongue, why do you sigh Sir?
How masterly he turns himself to catch me!
Rol. The way to Paradise, my gentle maid,
Is hard and crooked, scarce Repentance finding,
With all her holy helps, the door to enter,
Give me thy hand, what dost thou feel?
Edi. Your tears Sir.
You weep extreamly; strengthen me now justice.
Why are these sorrows Sir?
Rol. Thou’t never love me
If I should tell thee, yet there’s no way left
Ever to purchase this blest Paradise,
But swimming thither in these tears.
Edi. I stagger.
Rol. Are they not drops of blood?
Edi. No.
Rol. They’re for blood then,
For guiltless blood, and they must drop, my Edith,
They must thus drop, till I have drown’d my mischiefs.
Edi. If this be true, I have no strength to touch him.
Rol. I prethee look upon me, turn not from me;
Alas I do confess I’me made of mischiefs,
Begot with all mans miseries upon me;
But see my sorrows, maid, and do not thou,
Whose only sweetest sacrifice is softness,
Whose true condition, tenderness of nature.
Edi. My anger melts, Oh, I shall lose my justice.
Rol. Do not thou learn to kill with cruelty,
As I have done, to murther with thy eyes,
(Those blessed eyes) as I have done with malice,
When thou hast wounded me to death with scorn,
(As I deserve it Lady) for my true love,
When thou hast loaden me with earth for ever,
Take heed my sorrows, and the stings I suffer;
Take heed my nightly dreams of death and horrour
Pursue thee not: no time shall tell thy griefs then,
Nor shall an hour of joy adde to thy beauties.
Look not upon me as I kill’d thy Father,
As I was smear’d in blood, do not thou hate me,
But thus in whiteness of my wash’t repentance,
In my hearts tears and truth of love to Edith,
In my fair life hereafter.
Edi. He will fool me.
Rol. Oh with thine Angel eyes behold and close me,
Of Heaven we call for mercy and obtain it;
To Justice for our right on Earth and have it;
Of thee I beg for love, save me, and give it.
Edi. Now heaven thy help, or I am gone for ever,
His tongue has turn’d me into melting pity.
Enter Hamond, and Guard.
Ham. Keep the doors safe, and upon pain of death
Let no man enter till I give the word.
Guard. We shall Sir. [Exeunt.
Ham. Here he is in all his pleasure; I have my wish.
Rol. How now? why dost thou stare so?
Edi. A help, I hope.
Rol. What dost thou here? who sent thee?
Ham. My Brother, and the base malicious Office
Thou mad’st me do to Aubrey, pray.
Rol. Pray?
Ham. Pray; pray if thou canst pray, I shall kill thy soul else,
Pray suddenly.
Rol. Thou can’st not be so trayterous.
Ham. It is a Justice; stay Lady;
For I perceive your end; a womans hand
Must not rob me of vengeance.
Edi. ’Tis my glory.
Ham. ’Tis mine, stay, and share with me; by the gods, Rollo,
There is no way to save thy life.
Rol. No?
Ham. No, it is so monstrous, no repentance cures it.
Rol. Why then thou shalt kill her first, and what this blood
Will cast upon thy cursed head.
Ham. Poor Guard Sir.
Edi. Spare not brave Captain.
Rol. Fear, or the Devil has thee.
Ham. Such fear Sir as you gave your honor’d Mother,
When your most vertuous Brother, shield-like, held her;
Such I’le give you, put her away.
Rol. I will not, I will not die so tamely. ‘(on thee?
Ham. Murtherous villain, wilt thou draw seas of blood up.
Edi. Fear not, kill him good Captain, any way dispatch
Him, my body’s honor’d with that sword that through me,
Se
nds his black soul to Hell: Oh, but for one hand.
Ham. Shake him off bravely.
Edi. He’s too strong, strike him.
Ham. Oh, am I with you Sir? now keep you from him,
What, has he got a knife?
Edi. Look to him Captain, for now he will be mischievous.
Ham. Do you smile Sir?
Do’s it so tickle you? have at you once more.
Edi. O bravely thrust; take heed he come not in Sir;
To him again, you give him too much respite.
Rol. Yet will you save my life, and I’le forgive thee,
And give thee all, all honours, all advancements,
Call thee my friend.
Ed. Strike, strike, and hear him not,
His tongue will tempt a Saint.
Rol. Oh for my soul sake.
Edi. Save nothing of him.
Ham. Now for your farewel,
Are you so wary? take you that.
Rol. Thou, that too;
Oh thou hast kill’d me basely, basely, basely.
Edi. The just reward of murther falls upon thee.
How do you Sir? has he not hurt you?
Ham. No, I feel not any thing.
Aub. I charge you let us passe. [within.
Gua. You cannot yet Sir.
Aub. I’le make way then.
Gua. We are sworn to our Captain, and till he give the word.
Enter Sophia, Matilda, Aubrey, Lords and attendants.
Ham. Now let them in there.
Sop. Oh, here he lies,
Sorrow on sorrow seeks me, Oh, in his blood he lyes.
Aub. Had you spoke sooner
This might have been prevented;
Take the Dutchess,
And lead her off, this is no sight for her eyes.
Mat. Oh, bravely done wench.
Edi. There stands the noble doer.
Mat. My honour ever seek thee for thy justice,
Oh ’twas a deed of high and brave adventure,
A justice even for heaven to envy at,
Farewel my sorrows, and my tears take truce,
My wishes are come round: Oh bloody Brother,
Till this hour never beauteous; till thy life,
Like a full sacrifi[c]e for all thy mischiefs,
Flow’d from thee in these rivers, never righteous:
Oh how my eyes are quarri’d with their joys now!
My longing heart even leaping out for lightness!
But dye thy black sins with thee, I forgive thee.
Aub. Who did this deed?
Ham. I, and Fie answer it. [Dies.
Edi. He faints, oh that same cursed knife has kill’d him.
Aub. How?
Edi. He snatch’d it from my hand, for whom I bore it,
And as they grappl’d.
Aub. Justice is ever equal,
Had it not been on him, th’adst dy’d too honest.
Did you know of his death?
Edi. Yes, and rejoyce in’t.
The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman Page 227
