Part 18

B. Q. PAWN. Are you mad? Can lust infatuate a man so hopeful? No patience in your blood? the dog-star reigns, sure: Time and fair temper would have wrought her pliant.[587] I spied a Pawn o' the White House walk near us, And made that noise on purpose to give warning— For mine own turn, which end in all I work for. [_Aside._ B. B. PAWN. Methinks I stand over a powder-vault, And the match now a-kindling: what’s to be done? B. Q. PAWN. Ask the Black Bishop’s counsel; you’re his Pawn; ’Tis his own case, he will defend you mainly; And happily here he comes, with the Black Knight too.

_Enter Black Bishop and Black Knight._

B. BISHOP. O, you’ve made noble work for the White House yonder! This act will fill the adversary’s mouth, And blow the Lutherans' cheeks till they crack again. B. KNIGHT. This will advance the great monarchal business In all parts well, and help the agents forward! What I in seven year labour’d to accomplish, One minute sets back by some codpiece college still. B. B. PAWN. I dwell not, sir, alone in this default, The Black House yields me partners. B. BISHOP. All more cautelous.[588] B. KNIGHT. _Qui caute, caste_; that’s my motto ever; I've travell’d with that word[589] over most kingdoms, And lain safe with all nations; of a leaking bottom, I've been as often toss’d on Venus' seas As trimmer, fresher vessels, when sounder barks Have lain at anchor, that is, kept the door. B. BISHOP. She hath no witness then? B. B. PAWN. None, none. B. KNIGHT. Gross! witness? When went a man of his Society To mischief with a witness? B. BISHOP. I have done’t then: Away upon the wings of speed! take post-horse, Cast thirty leagues of earth behind thee suddenly; Leave letters ante-dated with our House Ten days at least from this. B. KNIGHT. Bishop, I taste thee; Good, strong, episcopal counsel! take a bottle on’t, 'Twill serve thee all thy journey. B. B. PAWN. But, good sir, How for my getting forth unspied? B. BISHOP.[590] There’s check again. B. Q. PAWN. No, I'll help that. B. KNIGHT. Well said, my bouncing Jesuitess! B. Q. PAWN. There lies a secret vault. B. KNIGHT. Away, make haste then! B. B. PAWN. Run for my cabinet of intelligences, For fear they search the house. [_Exit B. Q. Pawn._]— Good Bishop, burn ’em rather; I cannot stand to pick ’em now. B. BISHOP. Begone! The danger’s all in you. [_Exit B. B. Pawn._

_Re-enter Black Queen’s Pawn with cabinet._

B. KNIGHT. Let me see, Queen’s Pawn: How formally hath[591] pack’d up his intelligences! Hath laid them all in truckle-beds, methinks, And, like court-harbingers, hath writ their names In chalk upon their chambers: _Anglica_,— O, this is the English House: what news there, trow?[592] ah, by this light, most of these are bawdy epistles! Time they were burnt indeed! whole bundles of them; Here’s from his daughter Blanch and daughter Bridget, From their safe sanctuary in the White-Friars; These from two tender sisters of Compassion In the bowels of Bloomsbury; These from the nunnery in Drury Lane. A fire, a fire, good Jesuitess, a fire!— What have you there? B. BISHOP. A note, sir, of state policy, And an[593] exceeding safe one. B. KNIGHT. Pray, let’s see it, sir. [_Reads._ _To sell away all the powder in a kingdom, To prevent blowing up_: that’s safe, I'll able[594] it. Here’s a facetious observation now, And fits my humour better; he writes here, Some wives in England will commit adultery, And then send to Rome for a bull for their husbands. B. BISHOP. Have they those shifts? B. KNIGHT. O, there’s no female[s] breathing Sweeter and subtler!—Here, wench, take these papers, Scorch me ’em[595] soundly, burn ’em to French russet, And put ’em in again. B. BISHOP. Why, what’s your mystery? B. KNIGHT. O, sir, ’twill mock the adversary strangely, If e’er the House be search’d: ’twas done in Venice Upon the Jesuitical expulse there, When the Inquisitors came all[596] spectacled To pick out syllables out o' the dung of treason, As children pick out cherry-stones, yet found none But what they made themselves with ends of letters.— Do as I bid you, Pawn. [_Exeunt B. Knight and B. Bishop._ B. Q. PAWN. Fear not: in all, I love roguery too well to let it fall.—

_Enter Black Knight’s Pawn._

How now, what news with you? B. KT.'S PAWN. The sting of conscience Afflicts me so for that inhuman violence On the White Bishop’s Pawn, it takes away My joy, my rest. B. Q. PAWN. This ’tis to make an eunuch! You made a sport on’t then. B. KT.'S PAWN. Cease aggravation: I come to be absolv’d for’t: where’s my confessor? Why dost thou point to the ground? B. Q. PAWN. ’Cause he went that way. B. KT.'S PAWN. What’s that? B. Q. PAWN. Come, help me in[597] with this cabinet; And after I have sing’d these papers throughly, I'll tell thee a strange story. B. KT.'S PAWN. If’t be sad, ’Tis welcome. B. Q. PAWN. ’Tis not troubled with much mirth, sir. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Fat Bishop[598] and Fat Bishop’s Pawn._

F. BISHOP. Pawn. F. B. PAWN. I attend at your great holiness' service. F. BISHOP. For great, I grant you, but for greatly holy, There the soil alters: fat cathedral bodies Have very often but lean little souls, Much like the lady in the lobster’s head, A great deal of shell and garbage of all colours, But the pure part, that should take wings and mount, Is at last gasp; as if a man should gape, And from his huge bulk let forth a butterfly, Like those big-bellied mountains, which the poet Delivers, that are brought to bed with mouse-flesh. Are my books[599] printed, Pawn, my last invective 'Gainst the Black House? F. B. PAWN. Ready for publication, For I saw perfect books this morning, sir. F. BISHOP. Fetch me a few, which I will instantly Distribute ’mongst the White House. F. B. PAWN. With all speed, sir. [_Exit._ F. BISHOP. ’Tis a most lordly life to rail at ease, Sit, eat and drink[600] upon the fat of one kingdom, And rail upon another with the juice on’t. I've writ this book out of the strength and marrow Of six and thirty dishes at a meal, But most on’t out of cullis[601] of cock-sparrows; 'Twill stick and glue the faster to the adversary, 'Twill slit the throat of their most calvish cause; And yet I ate but little butcher’s meat In the conception. Of all things I commend the White House best For plenty and variety of victuals: When I was one of the Black side profess’d, My flesh fell half a cubit; time to turn When mine own ribs revolted. But to say true, I've no preferment yet that’s suitable To the greatness of my person and my parts: I grant I live at ease, for I am made The master of the beds,[602] the long acre of beds; But there’s no marigolds that shut and open,[603] Flower-gentles, Venus-bath[s], apples of love, Pinks, hyacinths, honeysuckles, daffadowndillies: There was a time I had more such drabs than beds; Now I have more beds than drabs; Yet there’s no eminent trader deals in wholesale, But she and I have clapt a bargain up, Let in at water-gate, for which I've rack’d My tenants' purse-strings that they’ve twang’d again.

_Re-enter Black Bishop and Black Knight._

Yonder Black Knight, the fistula[604] of Europe, Whose disease once I undertook to cure With a High Holborn halter, when he last Vouchsaf’d to peep into my privileg’d lodgings, He saw good store of plate there and rich hangings; He knew I brought none to the White House with me: I have not lost the use of my profession Since I turn’d White-House Bishop.

_Re-enter Fat Bishop’s Pawn with books._

B. KNIGHT. Look, more books yet! Yond greasy turncoat gormandising prelate Doth work our House more mischief by his scripts, His fat and fulsome volumes, than the whole Body of th' adverse party. B. BISHOP. O, it were A masterpiece of serpent subtlety To fetch him o' this side again! B. KNIGHT. And then damn him Into the bag for ever, or expose him Against the adverse part, which now he feeds upon; And that would double-damn him. My revenge Hath prompted me already: I'll confound him On both sides for the physic he prescrib’d,[605] And the base surgeon he provided[606] for me. I'll tell thee what a most uncatholic jest[607] He put upon me once when my pain tortur’d me: He told me he had found a present cure for me, Which I grew proud on, and observ’d him seriously; What think you ’t was? being execution-day, He shew’d the hangman to me out at window, The common hangman! B. BISHOP. O, insufferable! B. KNIGHT. I'll make him the balloon-ball[608] of the churches, And both the sides shall toss him: he looks like one, A thing swell’d up with mingled drink and urine, And will bound well from one side to another. Come, you shall write; our second bishop absent,[609] (Which hath yet no employment in the game, Perhaps nor ever shall; it may be won Without his motion, it rests most in ours,) He shall be flatter’d with _sede vacante_; Make him believe he comes into his place, And that will fetch him with a vengeance to us; For I know powder is not more ambitious When the match meets it, than his mind, for mounting; As covetous and lecherous—— B. BISHOP. No more now, sir;

_Enter on one side, White King, White Queen, White Knight, White Duke, White Bishop, White King’s Pawn, and White Bishop’s Pawn; on the other, Black King, Black Queen, Black Duke, and Black Knight’s Pawn._

Both the sides fill. W. KING. This hath been look’d for long. F. BISHOP. The stronger sting it shoots into the blood Of the Black adversary: I'm asham’d now I was theirs ever; what a lump was I When I was led in ignorance and blindness![610] I must confess,[611] I've all my lifetime play’d the fool till now. B. KNIGHT. And now he plays two parts, the fool and knave. F. BISHOP. There is my recantation in the last leaf, Writ, like a Ciceronian, in pure Latin. W. BISHOP.[612] Pure honesty, the plainer Latin serves then. B. KNIGHT. Plague on those pestilent pamphlets! those are they That wound our cause to th' heart. B. BISHOP. Here comes more anger.

_Enter White Queen’s Pawn._

B. KNIGHT. But we come well provided for this storm. W. QUEEN. Is this my Pawn, she that should guard our person, Or some pale figure of dejection Her shape usurping? Sorrow and affrightment Have[613] prevail’d strangely with her. W. Q. PAWN. King of integrity, Queen of the same, and all the House, professors Of noble candour, uncorrupted justice, And truth of heart, through my alone discovery— My life and honour wondrously preserv’d— I bring into your knowledge with my sufferings, Fearful affrightments, and heart-killing terrors:[614] The great incendiary of Christendom, The absolut’st abuser of true sanctity, Fair peace, and holy order, can be found In any part o' th' universal globe; Who, making meek devotion keep the door,— His lips being full of holy zeal at first,— Would have committed a foul rape upon me. W. QUEEN. Hah! W. KING. A rape? that’s foul indeed; the very sound To our ear fouler than th' offence itself To some kings of the earth. W. Q. PAWN. Sir, to proceed,— Gladly I offer’d life to preserve honour, Which would not be accepted without both, The chief of his ill aim being at mine honour; Till heaven was pleas’d, by some unlook’d-for accident, To give me courage to redeem myself. W. KING. When we find desperate sins in ill men’s companies, We place a charitable sorrow there, But custom, and their leprous inclination, Quit[615] us of wonder,[616] for our expectation Is answer’d in their lives; but to find sin, Yea, and a masterpiece of darkness, shelter’d Under a robe of sanctity, is able To draw all wonder to that monster only, And leave created monsters unadmir’d. The pride of him that took first fall for pride Is to be angel-shap’d, and imitate The form from whence he fell; but this offender, Far baser than sin’s master, fix’d by vow To holy order, which is angels' method, Takes pride to use that shape to be a devil. It grieves me that my knowledge must be tainted With his infected name: O, rather with thy finger point him out! W. Q. PAWN. The place which he should fill is void, my lord, His guilt hath scar’d[617] him,—the Black Bishop’s Pawn. B. BISHOP. Hah! mine? my Pawn? the glory of his[618] order, The prime and president zealot of the earth? Impudent Pawn, for thy sake at this minute Modesty suffers, all that’s virtuous blushes, And truth’s self, like the sun vex’d with a mist, Looks red with anger. W. BISHOP. Be not you drunk with rage too. B. BISHOP.[619] Sober sincerity, nor you [with] a cup Spic’d with hypocrisy. W. KNIGHT. You name there, Bishop, But your own Christmas-bowl, your morning’s draught, Next your episcopal heart all the twelve days, Which smack you cannot leave all the year after.[620] B. KNIGHT. A shrewd retort! Has made our Bishop smell of burning too: Would I stood further off! were’t no impeachment To my honour or[621] the game, would they’d play faster! [_Aside._

White Knight, there is acknowledg’d from our House A reverence to you, and a respect To that lov’d Duke stands next you: with the favour Of the White King and th' aforenam’d respected, I combat with this cause. If with all speed,— Waste not one syllable, unfortunate Pawn, Of what I speak,—thou dost not plead distraction, A plea which will but faintly take thee off neither From this leviathan-scandal that lies rolling Upon the crystal waters of devotion; Or, what may quit[622] thee more, though enough nothing, Fall down and foam, and by that pang discover The vexing spirit of falsehood strong within thee, Make thyself ready for perdition; There’s no remove[623] in all the game to ’scape it; This Pawn or this, the Bishop or myself, Will take thee in the end, play how thou canst. W. Q. PAWN. Spite of sin’s glorious ostentation, And all loud threats, those thunder-cracks of pride, Ushering a storm of malice; House of impudence, Craft[624] and equivocation, my true cause Shall keep the path it treads in. B. KNIGHT. I play thus then: Now in the hearing of this high assembly Bring forth the time of this attempt’s conception. W. Q. PAWN. Conception? O, how tenderly you handle it! W. BISHOP. It seems, Black Knight, you are afraid to touch it. B. KNIGHT. Well, its eruption: will she have it so then, Or you, White Bishop, for her? the more unclean,[625] Vild,[626] and more[627] impious that you urge the strain to, The greater will her shame’s heap shew i' th' end, And the wrong’d meek man’s glory.—The time, Pawn? W. Q. PAWN. Yesterday’s[628] cursed evening. B. KNIGHT. O the treasure Of my revenge! I cannot spend all on thee, Ruin[629] to spare for all thy kindred too: For honour’s sake call in more slanderers; I have such plentiful confusion, I know not how to waste it. I'll be nobler yet, And put her to her own House.—King of meekness, Take the cause to thee, for our hand’s too heavy; Our proofs will fall upon her like a tower, And grind her bones to powder. W. Q. PAWN. What new engine Has the devil rais’d in him now? B. KNIGHT. Is it he, And that the time? stand firm now to your scandal, Pray, do not shift your slander. W. Q. PAWN. Shift your treacheries; They’ve worn one suit too long. B. KNIGHT. That holy man, So wrongfully accus’d by this lost Pawn, Hath not been seen these ten days in these parts. W. KING.[630] How? B. KNIGHT. Nay, at this instant thirty leagues from hence. W. Q. PAWN. Fathomless falsehood! will it ’scape unblasted? W. KING.[631] Can you make this appear? B. KNIGHT. Light is not clearer; By his own letters, most impartial monarch. W. KG.'S PAWN.[632] How wrongfully may sacred virtue suffer, sir! B. KNIGHT. Bishop, we have a treasure of that false heart. W. KING.[633] Step forth, and reach those proofs. [_Exit B. Kt.'s Pawn, who presently returns with papers._ W. Q. PAWN. Amazement covers me! Can I be so forsaken of a cause So strong[634] in truth and equity? will virtue Send me no aid in this hard time of friendship? B. KNIGHT. There’s an infallible staff and a red hat Reserv’d for you. W. KG.'S PAWN.[635] O, sir endear’d![636] B. KNIGHT. A staff That will not easily break; you may trust to’t; And such a one had your corruption need of; There’s a state-fig for you now. W. KING.[637] Behold all, How they cohere in one! I always held A charity so good to holiness Profess’d, that[638] I ever believ’d rather Th' accuser false than the professor vicious. B. KNIGHT. A charity, like all your virtues else, Gracious and glorious. W. KING. Where settles the offence, Let the fault’s punishment be deriv’d from thence: We leave her to your censure. B. KNIGHT. Most just majesty! [_Exeunt W. King, W. Queen, W. Bishop, and W. Kg.'s Pawn; F. Bishop and F. B. Pawn._ W. Q. PAWN. Calamity of virtue! my Queen leave me too! Am I cast off as th' olive casts her flower? Poor friendless innocence, art thou left[639] a prey To the devourer? W. KNIGHT. No, thou art not lost, Let ’em put on their bloodiest resolutions, If the fair policy I aim at prospers.— Thy counsel, noble Duke! W. DUKE. For that work cheerfully. W. KNIGHT. A man for speed now! W. B. PAWN. Let it be my honour, sir; Make me that flight,[640] that owes her my life’s service. [_Exeunt W. Knight, W. Duke, and W. B. Pawn._ B. KNIGHT. Was not this brought about well for our honours? B. BISHOP. Pish, that Galician brain can work out wonders. B. KNIGHT. Let’s use her as, upon the like discovery, A maid was us’d at Venice; every one Be ready with a penance.—Begin, majesty.— Vessel of foolish scandal, take thy freight: Had there been in that cabinet of niceness[641] Half the virginities of the earth lock’d up, And all swept at one cast by the dexterity Of a Jesuitical gamester, ’t had not valued The least part of that general worth thou’st tainted. B. KING.[642] First, I enjoin thee to a three days' fast for’t. B. QUEEN. You’re too penurious, sir; I'll make it four. B. BISHOP. I to a twelve hours' kneeling at one time. B. KNIGHT. And in a room fill’d all with Aretine’s pictures, More than the twice-twelve labours of luxury:[643] Thou shalt not see so much as the chaste pommel Of Lucrece' dagger peeping; nay, I'll punish thee For a discoverer, I'll torment thy modesty. B. DUKE. After that four days' fast, to th' Inquisition-house, Strengthen’d with bread and water for worse penance. B. KNIGHT. Why, well said, duke of our House, nobly aggravated! W. Q. PAWN. Virtue, to shew her influence more strong, Fits me with patience mightier than my wrong. [_Exeunt._

ACT III. SCENE I.

_Field between the two Houses._

_Enter Fat Bishop._

F. BISHOP. I know my pen draws blood of the Black House, There’s ne’er a book I write but their cause bleeds; It hath lost many an ounce of reputation Since I came of this side; I strike deep in, And leave the orifex gushing where I come. But where’s my advancement all this while I've gap’d for? I'd have some round preferment, corpulent dignity, That bears some breadth and compass in the gift on’t: I am persuaded that this flesh would fill The biggest chair ecclesiastical, If it were put to trial. To be made master of an hospital Is but a kind of diseas’d bed-rid[644] honour; Or dean of the poor alms-knights that wear badges:[645] There’s but two lazy, beggarly preferments In the White Kingdom, and I've got ’em both: My merit doth begin to be crop-sick For want of other titles.[646]

_Enter Black Knight._

B. KNIGHT. O, here walks His fulsome holiness: now for the master-trick T' undo him everlastingly, that’s put home, And make him hang in hell most seriously That jested with a halter upon me. [_Aside._ F. BISHOP. The Black Knight! I must look to my play then. [_Aside._ B. KNIGHT. I bring fair greetings to your reverend virtues From Cardinal Paulus, your most princely kinsman. [_Gives a letter._