Fool. Chilax! Chi. Please me well, Fool, And you shall light my pipes. Away to th' temple! But stay the king is here: Sport upon sport, boys. Enter King, Lords, SIPHAX kneeling; CLOE with a veil. King. For what? Sip. For that, Which was heaven's will, should not be mine alone, My marrying with this lady. King. It needs no pardon, For marriage is no sin. Sip. Not in itself, sir; But in presuming too much: Yet, Heaven knows, King. What princess? King. You know he does deserve you, loves you dearly; You know what bloody violence he had used [sir: Upon himself, but that his brother cross'd it; You know the same thoughts still inhabit in him, And covet to take birth: Look on him, lady; The wars have not so far consumed him yet, Cold age disabled him, or sickness sunk him, To be abhorr'd: Look on his honour, sister; That bears no stamp of time, nor wrinkles on it; No sad demolishment, nor death can reach it: Look with the eyes of Heaven, that nightly waken To view the wonders of the glorious Maker, And not the weakness: Look with your virtuous And then clad royally in all his conquests, [eyes; His matchless love hung with a thousand merits, Eternal youth attending, fame and fortune; Time and oblivion vexing at his virtues, Sip. Oh, be not angry, my dread king! your sister. King. My sister! she's i' th' temple, man. Lord. The captain's mad! she's kneeling at the altar. King. I know she is.-With all my heart, good captain, I do forgive ye both: Be unveil'd, lady. [Puts off her veil. Will you have more forgiveness? The man's frantic. Come, let's go bring her out.-God give you joy, Sip. How! Cloe? my old Cloe? [sir. [Exeunt King, Lords. Cloe. Even the same, sir. Looks something musty since her coming over. Make sport at my abuse too! Fool. Oh, 'tis the nature Of us fools to make bold with one another; Chi. Cheer up your princess. Cloe. With whom else should you marry; speak your conscience, Will you transgress the law of arms, that ever Sip. Devils! Cloe. You had my maidenhead, my youth, my Is it not justice, then? Sip. I see it must be; [sweetness; But, by this hand, I'll hang a lock upon thee. Cloe. You shall not need; my honesty shall do it. He shall appear a miracle: Look on our dangers, Look on the public ruin. Calis. Oh, dear brother! King. Fy! let us not, like proud and greedy And my eternal doom, for aught I know, Mem. Those tears are some reward yet : Calis. Take 'em, soldier; They are fruitful ones; lay but a sigh upon 'em, And straight they will conceive to infinites: I told you what you would find 'em. Eum. [Within]. Room before there! A hearse is brought in, upon which POLYDORE is laid, covered, and seemingly dead; EUMENES, POLYBILS, and PELIUS following. King. How now? what's this more drops to Whose body's this? Eum. The noble Polydore: This speaks his death. Mem. My brother dead? [th' ocean? [Shewing a letter. Calis. Oh, goddess! Oh, cruel, cruel Venus! here's my fortune. Mem. Read aloud -Farewell, my follies! Be wise as you are beauteous; love with judgment, Fit for your worth and wearing. Take heed, lady; And carried beyond compass of our actions. Mem. No, not yet.-Thou man, Calis. The goddess grants me this yet, I shall enjoy thee dead: no tomb shall hold thee Love at thy feet shall kneel, his smart bow broken; King. Now I begin to melt too. Mem. Have you enough yet, lady? Room for a gamester! To my fond love, and all those idle fancies, dore ; To give me peace, thou hast eternal glory!— [Offers to kill himself. Polyd. [Rises. ] Hold, for Heaven's sake! Mem. Ha! does he live? Dost thou deceive me? [love, Polyd. Your love, sir. Mem. And you shall have it, even my dearest My first, my noblest love: Take her again, sir; She's yours, your honesty has over-run me. She loves you; lov'st her not?-Excellent princess, Enjoy thy wish; and now, get generals. Polyd. As you love Heaven, love him.-She's only yours, sir. Mem. As you love Heaven, love him.-She's My lord the king—— [only yours, sir. Polyd. He will undo himself, sir, And must without her perish : Who shall protect your kingdom? Mem. Give me hearing, Who shall fight [then? And, after that, belief. Were she my soul, I would resign all freely. 'Tis all love Calis. I see they are so brave, and noble both, I know not which to look on. Polyd. Choose discreetly, And Virtue guide you! There all the world, in one Stands at the mark. Mem. There all man's honesty, The sweetness of all youth. Calis. Oh, gods! Mem. My armour!. [man, By all the gods, she's yours!-My arms, I say! And, I beseech your grace, give me employment: That shall be now my mistress, there my courtship. King. You shall have anything. Mem. Virtuous lady, Remember me, your servant now.-Young man, gentle ! I should have slubber'd thee, and stain'd thy Your hand, your band, sir! [beauty. HERE lies the doubt now; let our plays be good, But 'tis the nobler way to check the will. SCENE I.-Moscow. A Street. Enter THEODORE and PUTSKIE. He that begot, and bred the soldier, Why he sits shaking of his arms, like autumn, Theod. Captain, your friend's preferr'd; the The tongue of war for ever tied within us princess has her; Who, I assure myself, will use her nobly. A pretty sweet one 'tis, indeed. Puts. Well bred, sir, I do deliver that upon my credit, And of an honest stock. Theod. It seems so, captain, And no doubt will do well. Puts. Thanks to your care, sir. But tell me, noble colonel, why this habit [all, Theod. It must be so. Captain, you are a stranger, But of a small time here a soldier, Yet that time shews you a right good and great Deserved of this man too; highly deserved too : Had they been less, they had been safer, Putskie, And sooner reach'd regard. Puts. There you struck sure, sir. Theod. Did I never tell thee of a vow he made, Some years before the old duke died? Puts. I have heard you Speak often of that vow; but how it was, Theod. I'll tell thee then, and then thou wilt find the reason. The last great muster, ('twas before you served here,) Before the last duke's death, whose honour'd bones Now rest in peace, this young prince had the ordering (To crown his father's hopes) of all the army: The good duke blush'd, and call'd unto my father, errors!" My sire obey'd, and did so; with all duty And, by my father's hand"-the rest his eyes spoke. [anger To which my father answer'd, somewhat moved Full of my father's danger. Puts. He has raised a young man, Theod. Believe it, a brave gentleman, I have seen a better face, and a straighter body; And yet she is a pretty gentlewoman. Olym. What thinkest thou, Petesca? Pet. Alas, madam, I have no skill; she has a black eye, Which is of the least too, and the dullest water: And when her mouth was made, for certain, madam, Nature intended her a right good stomach. Olym. She has a good hand. Gent. 'Tis good enough to hold fast, And strong enough to strangle the neck of a lute Olym. What think you of her colour? Pet. If it be her own, 'Tis good black blood; right weather-proof, I warrant it. Gent. What a strange pace she has got! Pet. And what a manly body! methinks she looks As though she'd pitch the bar, or go to buffets. Gent. Yet her behaviour's utterly against it, For methinks she is too bashful. Olym. Is that hurtful? Gent. Even equal to too bold: either of 'em, madam, May do her injury when time shall serve her. Olym. You discourse learnedly. Call in the wench.[Exit Gentlewoman. What envious fools are you! Is the rule general, That women can speak handsomely of none, But those they are bred withal? Pet. Scarce well of those, madam, If they believe they may outshine 'em any way: Our natures are like oil, compound us with any thing, Yet still we strive to swim o' th' top. Suppose there were here now, Now in this court of Moscow, a stranger-princess, Olym. I would think she might deserve it. I know you are a woman and so humour'd. I'll tell you, madam; I could then get more gowns on you, More caps and feathers, more scarfs, and more silk stockings, With rocking you asleep with nightly railings I could wear out. By this hand, you would scratch her eyes out. Olym. Thou art deceived, fool. Now let your own eyes mock you. Enter Gentlewoman and Young ARCHAS, disguised as a woman, bearing the name of ALINDA, Come hither, girl.-Hang me, an she be not a handsome one! Pet. I fear 'twill prove indeed so. Olym. Did you e'er serve yet In any place of worth? Y. Arch. No, royal lady. Pet. Hold up your head; fy! Olym. Let her alone; stand from her. Y. Arch. It shall be now, Of all the blessings my poor youth has pray'd for The greatest and the happiest to serve you; And, might my promise carry but that credit |